#sub!Joel Miller

[pedge-page]

Mother Who Provides

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: based off this lovely ask for sub Joel wanting to breastfeed and get jerked off, and hella Mommy kink!

Warnings: Sub!Joel, Mommy kink, breastfeeding, lactation, praise, love biting, assisted m masturbation, male orgasm, cum eating, little belly stuffing because this bitch just loves his Mommy's milk sm

18 + ONLY

- - - -

The first time Joel watched you breastfeed your newborn baby had him feeling all kinds of—different inside. You weren’t totally aware of it at first, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Every time you got up to go feed the little one, he was always within the same room, or meandering in the hall pretending to carry the laundry, or just finding an excuse to sit across from you and watch. 

He thought it was just an awe—here’s the woman of his dreams who just single handedly grew a whole human being in her belly, then pushed it out all by herself after 13 hours of labor, and now is nurturing his child from her own body. You were like a miracle who just kept giving. 

His cock getting hard was just the excitement of how amazing women were. That’s it.

But you had started to notice other things that were strange in his behavior. One time you had gotten up at 3am to feed the baby, Joel still asleep by your side. When you had finished and crawled back in to bed, reaching out for the warm security of his body, he wasn’t there. You groggily waddled down to the kitchen to find your husband chugging a gallon of whole milk like a fish out of water. His eyes fell upon you,  the way you yawned, dressed in a dissheveled night gown and asked if he’s ok, unaware that you were rubbing your sore breasts in your palm. He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, predatory eyes wide as he stares at your chest, ready to pounce on you like a wolf.

You knew pretty well right then what his little “problem” was. 

From then on, you intentionally were seeking him out in tighter shirts so he could see your bouncing swollen breasts more clearly, leaning over in front of him more often, or just straight up asking if he could give you a tits massage. Complaining about how “sore” they felt, or not wanting your milk to go to waste since the baby couldn’t drink it all even after having an entire freezer full. 

You feint a sigh. “Maybe I should donate it…”

“NO!” He shouts a little louder than he intended. “I mean… uh.” He coughs, unable to think of a reasonable excuse.

“Yeah? Who else is going to drink it, Joel?” You taunt. Joel was a tough man, but admitting things that he wanted was difficult to force out of him.

“I—I mean we—we could—“ he shook his head and went to sit on the couch. “Sorry, I mean. That’s a great idea. You should do that. Be nice for other moms.”

Joel wrings his hands together and looks away, clearing his throat.

You stride over to him and straddle his hips, his pupils going big with shock. You sit up on your knees with him caged under you, your breasts level with his nose as you rub your fingers through his brown curly hair. “Is that what you want?”

You can see the way his eyes are trained forward, looking at the swollen nipples poking through your tank top. He swallows heavily and licks his lips, hands resting on your waist, fighting the urge to bite.

“No…” he whispers softly.

“No? Is there someone else who should get Mommy’s milk?” You tease.

He closes his eyes, a low growl rumbling in his throat. 

“Speak, baby boy.”

“M-Me,” he says, head tilted up to you as he nuzzles the scruff of his cheek into your chest. You cup his head to firmly press his face harder, his nose gliding along the cleavage as he inhales your scent sharply. His hands creep up along your sides before grasping the droopy fat of the underside of your breasts, making you gasp.

You don’t even need to sit down on him fully to feel the tent poking your clit as you hover over him. He squeezes your tits roughly before wrapping his teeth around a nipple and tugging gently, releasing it with a satisfying bounce back in to place. The result was a slight damp spot around the peak where a drip of your milk seeped out. 

And Joel Miller fucking whimpers for the first time in his life.

You hum in delight. “Can you ask Mommy nicely?”

He doesn’t hesitate: “Please, can I have Mommy’s milk?”

Holy fuck, you’re a sucker for your man.

-

Now a half hour later, Joel is still greedily suckling at your tit as if being starved his whole life. You’re sitting on the couch  while cradling Joel’s head in your lap, having him lying down on his back in the perfect position for the milk in your breasts to just flow right into his hungry mouth.

His eyes are closed, jaw working open as his lips suction tightly, gulping your sweetness. You stroke the greying hairs on his cheek, feeling the way he hums contently vibrate against your skin.

He feels safe like this, in such a vulnerable position. The idea of protecting you, being on guard, defensive, all of that stress melts away while being swaddled by you. He can let go of worry, of anxiety, taking deep breaths and feeding soothingly under the gently, nurturing embrace of his beautiful, life-giving wife.

You had palmed his hard-on the entire time, not releasing it quite yet until you were satisfied with how full his tummy had grown. You could even hear the little sloshes of bubbles in his stomach as it filled with new nutrients. He’d let out a tiny whimper, milk caught in his throat when you’d squeeze around his base possessively before returning to your palming. His precum smears along his thigh and shorts. 

“You’re so hungry, baby,” you coo, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “This whole time you just wanted a taste of Mama’s milk, hmm?”

He nods absentmindedly, refusing to let go of your golden titty. 

Unsatisfied with his response, you grip his hair and yank his head down, his lips detaching and falling away from your breast. He lets out a needy whine and stares at you. “Y-yes Mommy. Wanted your milk. Please can I have some more?”

You giggle and nod. His tongue darks out to lick the little drips that had trickles down before attaching back to your nipple and suckling happily.

You pull his throbbing length out though the hole in his boxers. “Gimme a little spit,” you command softly.

Joel sits his head up, cheeks full of milk. You put your hand out in front of his lips as he release the creamy substance into your palm. Your newly silkened hand finds its way back to wrap around his base before stroking him. 

“Ohhhhh f-fuck Mommy!” he groans, eyes closed and leaning back against your thigh. But the sensation was too good, hips bucking up that he had to force his chin back up to continue watching. Your fingers expertly curled around his mushroom tip with each pass, the assistance of the milk acting as a lubricant. He licked his upper lick, his leg twitching with how hot it felt. You lean forward a bit and push your tit closer to his lips again. His eyes dart to you, tongue sticking out to capture your nipple again before resuming his impatient guzzling.

“Naughty, boy, getting all hard when drinking from Mommy’s tit.” You swirl his slit with the tip of your nail, his steady flow of precut oozing out and mixing with the milk. You feel his throat flex with each stutter, his mind reeling in and out of sanity, fists balled at his sides to avoid taking control. Joel’s lips were a sin everywhere else on your body, and this moment was no different. They were full, pouty, and his lower lip juts out enough to be able to easily catch your nipple and hold on with each insatiable gulp.

“Maybe I should bottle it up and let you bring it to work with you. Can share your special bottle with the other boys,” you laugh.

Joel growls angrily, browns crunched as he bites your nipple possessive. 

You hiss out in pain, fisting his curls once again. “Ow! Bite me again and you’re done,” you warn. His face relaxes, eyes staring up at you with sorrow as you resume your pace pumping his shaft.

“Ah-m srorry—Momm-ee,” he mumbles against the fat of your breasts, soothing over his bite mark with his warm wet tongue. 

You sigh deeply. The weight on your chest is almost fully lifted now that Joel has swallowed so much of the milk that had built up.

Your baby was just so little right now, there was only so much he could fill in his tiny body, leaving you aching, heavy, and swollen all day and night. But your full grown 5’11 200 pound hunk of a husband? He could drink for HOURS and drain you completely so that fresh milk can replenish your system just for your baby. 

“Maybe we should make your feeding a regular thing too. Would you like that?” You hum. You increase the speed of your hand, now jerking his cock violently.

“Ahh—ah! Ye-oh fuck, fuck Mommy—yes, yes I want it!”

“Yeah? You wanna be full of Momma’s milk all the time? Bet you wanna cum too. Taking such good care of me, I think you deserve a reward.”

He swallows another big load before his panting forces him away, creamy liquid spilling over his cheeks. “Ah—ugh-ugh oh fuck, fuck yeah! Wanna cum, wanna cum on Mommy’s hand, please! Please, keep tuggin’ my dick just like that, Fuck! FUCK yes Mommy!”

His mouth falls open, breath caught in his throat as you feel his hips raising off the couch slightly. You take the opportunity to lean forward and shove as much of your tits in his mouth as you can, suffocating him. His eyes roll back as the first of his cum spews up into the air, followed up big spurts rapidly shooting as you violently work his cock.

“Shhhh, that’s it, that’s my good boy, keep cumming all over Mommy’s hand, such a good boy. Don’t forget keep drinking your special milk. Mommy made it just for you.” You bite your lip at the idea of motherhood just falling so easily over you.

His whole body shutters, moaning and sucking around your breasts, unsure what to do with himself as he keeps cumming in your hand. His dick pulses the last of his spent, dribbling globs of sticky, thick semen all over your fingers and his full stomach. He quivers from the overstimulation, suppressing a burp. 

You remove your hand, caressing the heft of his bulging stomach just as he takes a deep breath through his nose, calming his breathing. He opens his eyes to see you licking the glorious mess of his cum off of your palm, each finger dipping in to your sinful mouth and sucking his spend clean. 

“Fuuucckkkk, that’s hot. Eatin my cream when I drink yours.” His eyes are positively drunk off of you. He babbles quickly: “Wanna keep ya milkin’ every year. Kids or not. These tits are mine. Keep me stuffed full of ya sweet cream, Momma. Never need to buy dairy again. Just drink it straight from the tap.”

You grab his hands down by his side and bring them up to your tits, guiding him to rub your sore breasts gently. “Gotta work them up to get more in you.”

Joel doesn’t argue, taking over the movement and squeezing your breast like icing bag, bringing your nipple back down to his lips as he milks more of your love into his mouth.

- - - -

Permanent taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg

[sweetercalypso]

What Takes the Edge Off || Joel Miller

Word Count: 2.0k

Summary: Now that Joel is living in Jackson, he’s picked up a few bad habits. When he comes home smelling like cigarettes, you punish him for his choice of vices

Notes: smoking, lap sitting, hair pulling, semi-public sex, grinding over clothes, edging, dom reader, sub(ish) Joel, no reader pronouns; smoking is gross unless you’re hot <3

joel miller masterlist main masterlist

Joel’s problem started with a crushed pack of Camels he’d found just a few short months after settling down in Jackson.

Truthfully, his problem had started when he was nineteen and naïve about the habit he was forming with the hand-rolled cigarettes stashed in his glovebox. They’d belonged to Tommy before Joel had quickly confiscated them with a lengthy lecture about the dangers of smoking.

Tommy was still a kid, but Joel was old enough to choose his own vices.

Everyone in Texas smoked; pipes, cigars, cigarettes – it was all commonplace in the rural heat of the South. Even after the world fell apart, there were plenty of people in QZs willing to trade a week’s worth of ration cards for a single carton of cigarettes, a stale taste of the life they’d left behind.

Joel had been more than happy to meet their demand, only occasionally skimming a few from his and Tess’s supplies. He didn’t crave the relief of nicotine any more than he craved a bottle of old whiskey or a quick, drunken fuck – it was just a way to cope with the life he’d been given.

Living in Jackson is different. The air is cleaner, the streets aren’t littered with soggy cigarette butts, and the weight of Joel’s bad habits has finally caught up to him.

The first pack he found, he’d shared with Tommy. The pair stood outside a crumbling house on their patrol route and chain-smoked what was left in the half-crushed box, reminiscing about the time Tommy stole an imported cigar from their father’s nightstand and had gotten sick from the first puff. Twenty years since they’d seen home, their Southern upbringing still kept them from smoking indoors.

The smell of tobacco had worn off by the time they returned to the city gates, and you were none the wiser about their indulgence. Even when you threw your arms around Joel and buried your face in his chest, you’d greeted him like nothing was out of the ordinary.

A couple days after he’d finished the first pack, Joel realized how much he enjoyed smoking. He found himself missing the bitter taste in his mouth, fingers twitching at his sides like he’s flicking loose ashes from a phantom burning tip.

There’d been a gun in his hand for as long as he could remember, and now that his days are spent in protected leisure, Joel feels like a crucial piece of himself is missing.

He’s constantly searching for the sleek steel of a pistol, the pressure of a trigger responding to his unabating command. The weight of a cigarette balanced between his fingers had eased the grief of being still.

A sealed pack of Marlboro’s was Joel’s next find, left behind on a coffee table in a house just beyond his normal patrol route. His habit had never been routine enough to pick a favorite brand, but the familiar red and white emblem is a welcomed sight, a promise of earthy tobacco and a good, slow burn.

The matchbook in his pocket is a heavy burden on Joel’s conscience as he picks up the cigarettes and quietly slips them into his supply bag. This time, he isn’t sharing with Tommy or anyone else who feels they have a claim over a portion of his findings.

Jackson might be a commune, but just this once, Joel’s nicotine-fueled prerogative trumps his commitment to sacrifice.

He waits until he’s past the city gates to unwrap the crisp plastic and slide the first cigarette out of the pack. It’s nearly midnight when he returns his horse to the stable and begins the short walk home, unlit cigarette dangling between his teeth as he attempts to light a match under the warm embrace of the streetlamps.

The initial thrum of nicotine flooding his lungs is bittersweet, a slight burn that dulls his senses with each deep breath. He walks with his cigarette pulled up to his mouth, the weak orange glow of lit tobacco burning a crude effigy into the shadows of his face.

You’re sitting on the porch when he rounds the corner, lazed in a rocking chair that Joel had built the previous summer – his attempt at adjusting to the slow life.

When he realizes that you’re still awake, he flicks the half-finished cigarette onto the ground and crushes it with the toe of his boot, waving a hand to clear the lazy smoke lingering in the air. He grumbles under his breath and pulls the front of his jacket to his nose to gauge how long it would take the smell of tobacco to fade, but he realizes too late that the sickly-sweet aroma is already woven into the material – still clinging to his breath.

He makes his way up the sidewalk with a guilty look on his face and a hand tucked in his pocket, thumb rubbing soothingly over the side of the cigarette pack as if the feel of the box was enough to bring him relief.

It wasn’t that he expected to be chastised for his nasty habit – you knew better than anyone that Joel preferred to take care of himself. But he distinctly remembers a conversation you’d shared some time ago about old-world vices and your distaste for smoking.

He didn’t think it was worth mentioning his habit at the time; smoking was a luxury he doubted he’d ever have again, so why ruin his image of calloused self-restraint?

The sound of the porch steps creaking under Joel’s boots grabs your attention from whatever book you’d been reading, now abandoned face-down on the arm of the rocking chair as you turn to greet him.

“You’re home,” you drawl, the tired lilt in your voice betraying your content expression.

His chin dips in a bashful acknowledgement, tucked to his chest as he leans down to press a kiss to the side of your face. He still isn’t used to having someone waiting up for him; the thought only adds to the weight of his self-reproach.

“How was patrol?” you ask as Joel pulls away, though your eyes rake over him with another question in mind.

Before he can answer, you reach out and grab the front of his jacket, bringing the material to your nose to confirm what Joel already knew. “You smell like smoke.”

He swallows the sandpaper feeling in his mouth and shrugs. “Got a little cold out tonight, we stopped to make a fire on our way back.”

He cringes internally at his halfhearted attempt at avoiding the matter, but it doesn’t seem to deter you from putting the pieces together anyway.

“No,” you interject, brows pulled together in confusion. “You smell like cigarettes.”

He’s silent for a moment, unable to think of an honest way out of this conversation. “Huh.”

“Joel,” you drawl, standing and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. A teasing grin pulls at the corners of your mouth, a scandalized amusement that makes his cheeks burn. “Have you been smoking?”

Your fingers weave through the dark curls at the nape of his neck, tugging softly until his head rolls back.

His eyes flutter shut and he shudders as he pulls the offending pack from his pocket. “Found ‘em on patrol,” he pants, his free hand gently squeezing your hip. “People leave all sorts of useful things behind when the world’s endin’.”

You offer only a simpering tsk in response, not quite the reaction Joel was expecting.

The night air is silent beyond the quiet lull of Jackson and the floorboards shifting under your feet as you shuffle closer together, sharing an intimate moment in the dim light seeping through the front room windows. Joel’s hands are a firm presence on your waist, separated from your skin by only the thin flannel shirt you’d stolen from his closet. 

Eventually, you pull away, ushering him into the seat you’d abandoned upon his arrival. He drops into the rocking chair with a grunt and drags you into his lap.

“Missed you, baby” he murmurs, admiring the way you fit perfectly into the hollow of his frame, the way you balance yourself overtop him with practiced ease.

He knows he should be more concerned about your indifferent reaction, more worried about the possibility of someone walking by. But his sensibility is swept away by the heave of your chest and the little sound you make when his hand presses against the base of your spine.

Your hips drag slowly over his and for a moment, Joel thinks you’ve forgotten about the cigarettes. Or maybe you won’t mind his indulgence as long as he makes up for it. The warmth of your body pressed against his makes Joel ache for more, ready to offer an apology with more than just his words.

Just as he leans in to press his mouth to yours, you pull away far enough that he misses.

“Ah-” you stop him with a raised hand, fingertips pressed to his pouted lips. “You can kiss me when you don’t smell like cigarettes.”

The warm, hazy feeling is suddenly ripped from the air. Joel’s head jerks back in a look of disbelief, mouth hung open and brows pulled together as if he’d been scorned. “You’re serious?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, running a hand over his chest to soothe his trampled ego. “Can’t stand the smell, baby. You know that.”

The rocking chair dips forward as Joel drops his head onto your shoulder with a groan. “That’s just cruel.”

“It’s not cruel,” you laugh, pushing back the mess of curls falling into his face. “When you come home from patrol, I wanna taste you, not smoke.”

Your hips stir over his once again and Joel swears under his breath. His cock twitches in interest and he begrudgingly accepts the torment of your slow pace. This isn’t the time to take charge and chase his high; he’ll let you take the reins until you decide that he’s forgiven.

He picks his head up to glance around the empty streets, assuring himself that there’s no one here to witness his weak-willed acquiescence.

“I wanna touch you, make you feel good,” you continue, ghosting your fingers over the front of his jeans. “But how can I do that when all I can think about is those nasty cigarettes? Hmm?”

Your hands travel back to his chest, but your hips continue to roll over his, trapping his stiff cock beneath the comfortable pressure of your thighs. His eyes flutter shut once more as he leans back into his seat and lets you have your fun.

It doesn’t take long for Joel to near his end, subtly bucking his own hips to help himself along. He’s right there, right at the edge of his release, knuckles turning white as his grip tightens on the arm rests and—

The weight in his lap is gone, replaced with an empty chill that makes Joel’s hips stutter. His eyes snap open as he struggles to focus in his blissed-out state, but a hand on his shoulder brings him back to reality.

You’re standing in front of him now, no longer providing the friction that’d been fueling the fire in his belly. “Sorry, baby. You don’t get off that easy.”

He groans when you crawl back into his lap and you’re flooded with a sense of empowerment. It shouldn’t feel this good to see Joel suffer. You know it’s not fair to tease him like this, but maybe he deserves a little punishment.

“Maybe if you hadn’t been smoking, I’d let you enjoy this. Let you use your mouth to make me come, let you fuck me the way you want to.”

Joel stays silent, obedient. He swallows around shallow gasps of air that make his chest rise and fall with the labor of his breaths, thighs tensing as he struggles not to chase that feeling dangling just out of reach.

“I could do this all night,” you note, settling your weight in his lap again, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And I think you’d let me.”

[hier--soir]

be good

no outbreak joel miller x f!reader

pairing: sub!joel miller x dom!f!reader summary: joel was never really the submissive type. until he met you, and realised he'd do whatever you asked of him. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] no outbreak au, established relationship, strangers at a bar role play, dom!reader, sub!joel, dirty talk, joel miller is desperate, face sitting cunnilingus, f!masturbation, save a horse ride a cowboy, size kink, praise kink, light choking, mean!reader, pet names used for joel [honey, baby, sugar], orgasm denial, reader talks joel through it, 90% porn 10% plot lmao. word count: 7.6k masterlist a/n: folks i've been gagging for something with joel just being so good for his partner and [begrudgingly] doing whatever she tells him too... and then i listened to 'sex with me' by rihanna and got even more inspired so here we go. [i swear i will post something soon with an actual plot jfc]

He’d been watching you all night.

Pip’s Bar was busy. Though it wasn’t your usual haunt, it was one of the more popular spots in Austin, and on a Saturday night it was absolutely teeming with people. Strangers lined the bar, drinking and talking and trying fruitlessly to chase down two overworked bar tenders. A mass of bodies gyrated and swayed in the middle of the room, moving to the fast rhythm of a bassline that shook the rickety old floorboards. You were lost in the midst of it, dancing alone and yet connected to the foreign bodies that crowded you from every angle, suffocating you until you were slick with sweat and sticky from spilt alcohol. Swallowed whole by the writhing, heaving pack of dancers, your every breath and movement synced with theirs.

And he’d been watching you, all night.

He’d arrived at Pip’s not long after you. And since then, he had hardly moved from the same spot across the room. He leant against the wall, one hand gripping a glass and the other propped on his hip. He looked bored, uninterested in everything happening around him, and yet every time you glanced his way those eyes were already burning a hole into your skin. The truth was that he’d never had much patience for the whole thing, but you trusted he enjoyed it just as much as you did. Knew he’d do whatever you asked him to, even if it included going to a bar and pretending you were strangers. Even when it meant him watching you dance all night, rubbing yourself against strangers, and pretending you didn’t know him until one of you finally broke.  

Your arms stretched high above your head, hips swaying from side to side as you muttered the lyrics of the song underneath your breath. Once again, you glanced back in his direction while you danced. You allowed your torso to sway with the movements of your hips, hands dropping to rest lacklustre by your sides. You offered him a quick smile, but his face hardly moved, body rigid. He lifted the glass to his mouth, playing coy, and you chuckled under your breath, closing your eyes and revelling in the heavy bass that vibrated through your body. When you opened them again he was gone, the wall where he’d once stood now devoid of his presence. You didn’t give it much thought, until suddenly a pair of hands were on your waist, pulling you back against a solid body. A gasp of soft surprise exhaled from your mouth, and you felt the hands squeeze gently. When you turned around, there was already a sly smile was painted across your lips.

The dim lighting in the bar did him no justice; casting too many shadows across his strong jawline, his straight aquiline nose, hiding the perfect shade of his dark pink lips.

He stared down at you with a simmering intensity as you pressed your chest against his. The room was hot, and sweat beaded along your hairline, but it didn’t stop you from dancing slowly against him, gliding your curves against his body, maintaining eye contact all the while.

A faded denim button up covered his chest, the thin material doing nothing to disguise the toned, strong body beneath it. The fabric was slightly coarse, and it was rough against the thin mesh of your shirt. You always loved waiting to see what he would wear, how he would dress up for you. Tonight’s shirt was new, something he’d bought specifically for the occasion, and you loved it. Your nipples hardened a little, and you smirked as he snaked an arm around your waist to press his palm to the spot in between your shoulder blades, holding you against him.

“What’s your name?” you asked over the music, noting the way his eyes drifted to your mouth when you spoke. God, he was so easy.

“Joel.” Those deep, brown eyes bore into your own, drinking in the details of your face as his hips moved slowly against yours. He was always antsy to get this part over and done with, but he played along for you.

“Are you single?” you asked, revelling in the way his mouth went to respond before his brain could catch up. The beginning of the word no formed on his lips, and you almost grinned at how loyal he was, even when you wanted him to lie.

“Yes,” he said.

“You’ve been watching me all night, Joel.”

You reached up to fix his collar where part of it had been turned up. He didn’t respond immediately, mulling his thoughts over in his head, contemplating what he thought you might want to hear.

“It’s okay,” you spoke again when you sensed he was overthinking it, allowing your hand to glide down his shoulder and over the firm muscles of his upper arm. “I liked it.”

“And your name?” he asked, almost shouting to be heard over the music. You smirked at the deep bellow of his voice; at the way it gave the pumping music a run for its money. The thick, Texan drawl of it always managed to spark a fire in your belly.

When you told him, he repeated your name slowly, as if it were foreign to him; rolling it around in his mouth, tasting out the syllables on his tongue. The hand on your back held strong, and you could almost feel the individual tips of his fingertips leaving indents in your skin.

A gyrating body jostled into you from the side suddenly, and you stumbled forward. Joel tightened his grip on you, keeping the both of you standing up right. You flashed him a grateful smile, and your eyes dipped to stare at his mouth. The urge to kiss him was strong, but you held yourself back, knowing the payoff would be worth it if you could just hold off a little longer.

You didn’t waste much time though. “What brings you to Pip’s? Y’here to meet someone?”  

A spark of desire flashed through his eyes, and his grip tightened inconceivably. Your body thrummed with excitement as you gained the upper hand so successfully, and so quickly. Joel cleared his throat, face relaxing back into a neutral expression.

“Didn’t want to come here at all,” he spoke plainly, glancing down to where your chests rubbed together. His eyes trailed over your torso, the mesh fabric of your shirt allowing him a full view of your breasts, clad in a thin lace bra. “Brother dragged me along.”

You hummed, almost grinning at the mention of Tommy, who would blush beet red if he knew what the two of you were doing at Pip’s. You opened your mouth to speak again, but he beat you to it.

“Did you?” he asked quickly. “Come here lookin’ for someone?”

You quirked an eyebrow and shook your head once. “No, I didn’t.” Bold faced lie.

His left hand rested on your hip, and he squeezed your waist once, holding your midriff solidly against his own. You could feel his heart beating, a rapid badoom badoom badoom that knocked rhythmically against your sternum. You draped an arm around the back of his neck, gripping the collar of his shirt.

“But maybe I could be persuaded,” you spoke slowly, testing the waters. “If you’re good.”

His eyes darkened a shade at your wording, and a soft exhale rushed out of his mouth, breezing against your face. His lips were a hairsbreadth away from touching yours, but he hesitated, eyes flickering back up to yours, as if asking for permission. Perfect.

You kissed him gently at first, slotting your lips against his and moving tentatively, exploring him as if it were the first time. His hold on you stiffened as he pressed back, running his tongue eagerly along the seam of your mouth. Your hand drifted from his collar to his hair and you gripped it softly, tugging on the wavy curls. Joel was taller than you, and yet he was crouching somewhat, so that your mouths would be level. Simplifying things for you; always so eager for the game to end. He struggled with it – the standing across the room, watching you, waiting for you to invite him over with a smile. But after an hour of dancing, you were willing to let him have it.

You parted your lips and allowed him to swipe his tongue greedily into your mouth. He tasted like whiskey and mint and soda water. It burnt your mouth, and inspired a dull ache in your abdomen. He gained confidence, kissing you harder, deeper, and so you sunk your teeth into his bottom lip. Not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make him pause. A warning.

You pulled away. “Have you been drinking, Joel?”

His chest rose and fell quickly. Lips swollen and red. You could feel him pressing against your stomach, already half-hard from just a little kiss. Poor baby, so desperate.

“Only had two.” His voice was stilted. “I drove here.”

“Good,” you nodded, gripping his hand and leading him out of the throng of dancing bodies.

“Good?” Joel shouted back, eyebrows raised.

“Good that your car is here,” you clarified. “Means you can drive us back to my place.”

Joel walked through your apartment like he’d never been there a day in his life, and you adored him for it.

He rested on the edge of your bed, nursing a cold beer that you’d swiped from the fridge for him. He stuck out in your bedroom, but you suppose he always had. The queen-sized bed looked like a double with him on it, his broad frame taking up most of the mattress. And the contrast between your floral wallpaper and his dark, masculine figure was so stark that you almost giggled as you watched him from across the room. His eyes felt heavy on you, following you wherever you moved, lest he miss a single thing. They raked over your figure, basking in the bare flesh you had on show, monitoring your hands as you removed your jewellery and discarded it. It caused a prickling heat to rise across your skin, and you liked it – the way he seemed so eager, so uncontained.

“What’re you doin’ all the way over there?” Joel asked. His fingers were long, wrapping around the entirety of the beer bottle, making it look miniscule in his grip.

You bent to take off your shoes. “I’m admiring you.”

His lips pursed, beer bottle pausing in the air halfway to his lips. When he spoke, his voice was deeper somehow. “Well, you should come over here.”

“Would you like that?” you straightened up, smiling sweetly.

“Yes,” he responded. His voice was measured, quiet. But you could tell he was frustrated by your relaxed demeanour. It was always the way it went. Joel was so impatient. He knew what was going to happen, knew what awaited him, and he couldn’t fucking stand the tension build up.

“Maybe if you’re good,” you winked, padding over to where he sat. You stood over him, knees brushing against knees.

“I can be good,” he spoke gruffly, depositing his beer bottle on the ground with a gentle clink.

“Is that so?” you asked softly, pulse quickening. He nodded, wiping his palms on his jeans before splaying them on the bed beside him. A slick heat had formed in your underwear, the near-ruined material sticking uncomfortably to your skin. “You’re gonna do what I want? Whatever I ask of you?”

You could see the way his jeans tightened over his crotch, cock clearly straining against the rough material at your words. He swallowed, nodding again. Slowly, so slow it was painful, you leant forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. His scent filled your nostrils and you inhaled it deeply, sighing against his mouth as everything that was Joel Miller invaded your senses. Your tongue flicked against his mouth and then you were dragging it past his lips, over his teeth, rolling it against his own tongue. A warm, heavy hand gripped the waistband of your pants and long fingers fumbled with the button, but you pulled back, tutting as you shoved his hands away from you. He looked dejected, wet lips parted as he frowned up at you.

“Take your clothes off,” you ordered softly, and he grunted, but did as you asked. “And then lay on the bed.”

Making quick work of it, he stripped out of his shirt and jeans, tossing them haphazardly into the corner of the room. Finally, he tugged his briefs down, before laying back on the mattress.

Splayed on the bed, not a single inch of Joel Miller was left to the imagination. His body sunk into the soft blankets on the bed, and his cock stood at painful attention. It gave you pause, as he stared at you, and you stared at his cock. He was big—bigger than most guys you’d slept with in the past—and he knew it too. Had always been proud of the fact. His tip was ruddy and swollen, with a small pearl of pre-come resting on his slit, taunting you. A thick, pulsing vein travelled down the side of him. You thought about how he would taste, in that moment. How heavy he would be on your tongue, how your jaw would ache, and you’d struggle to breathe as his tip glided against the back of your throat. You were salivating just thinking about it.

“You like what you see?”

You simply took your clothes off in response. Taking your time, you dragged your shirt over your head before peeling your trousers off, underwear following it and landing in a pile on the floor until you stood naked as the day you were born. Joel watched closely, dark eyes monitoring your hands as you removed layer after layer. His gaze dipped to the spot between your thighs, and you saw his cock twitch.

You straddled his thighs, resting just above his knees and taking care not to make contact with his length. As soon as you settled above him his hands rested naturally on your waist, gripping and kneading the flesh beneath his palms. You decided to allow it, just for a moment, as your gaze travelled down his chest and the dark smattering of hair there, past his happy trail, all the way to where he wanted you the most.

His hips shifted on the mattress, cock bobbing against the soft flesh of his tummy and leaving a shiny smear where the tip brushed his skin.

“So handsome,” you traced your fingers over his stomach. “You’ve got such a pretty cock, Joel.”

“Yeah?” he grunted, eyes trained on your hands as they wandered toward his hips. The power you felt in moments like this were unmatched. With this broad, strong man laying beneath you, completely at your mercy, hanging on the precipice of your every word. Even if he struggled to admit it, even when it seemed like he was using all of his will power to let you have your fun, you both knew that you were in charge. And it was invigorating.

“Yes,” you implored, your heart warming at the way his chest seemed to puff with pride at your words.

Your fingertip traced alone his hipbone and he shivered at the featherlight touch, goosebumps breaking out across his skin. “So pretty and thick. I love it like that, you know? When it’s so big that it hurts at first. No matter how wet I am, there’s still that sting.” You dug your nails into the soft of his upper thigh to emphasise your point. He didn’t respond, eyes darkening as he watched you.

“So big that it fills me up until it’s like I can’t breathe, and I’m so cock drunk that I can’t focus on anything except you and how deep you are.” You placed your spare hand on your lower stomach, splaying your fingers. “When I can feel it here.”

Joel’s breathing had started to labour, chest rattling as heavy exhales drifted through parted lips. His hands dragged from your waist to the crease where your thigh met your hips, and his grip was bruising. You knew he loved it when you talked like that, knew it drove him crazy. And you couldn’t deny it made a fresh wave of heat roll through your stomach to think about him stretching you out just right.

“And I love this,” you continued softly, dragging your fingers from his thigh to graze the moustache that rested above his top lip. He smirked at that, tongue darting out to swipe at your fingers. Your stomach tensed at the feeling of the wet muscle touching you, pussy fluttering around nothing, devastatingly empty. 

Joel whispered your name against the palm of your hand. Smiling, you traced the tip of your index over his lips before pressing down, watching it slide easily into his mouth. He closed his lips around the digit immediately, grazing his teeth over it before sucking gently.

“Oh, you’ve got such a pretty mouth,” you said. “You gonna show me what you can do with it?”

He moaned around the digit, strong hands pulling your hips forward so you were edging your way up his torso.

“Mmh,” you hummed lowly, dragging your soaked finger from his mouth. You tapped it once against his left hand and gave him a sly smile. “But none of this, okay? I don’t want to feel your hands on me, not for a second. Do you understand?”

Joel’s brow furrowed, eyes dimming as he slowly pried his fingers away from your flesh, lowering his hands to rest in the sheets.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be?” he asked softly, tongue swiping out to wet his lower lip.

You nodded, using your knees to shift further up his chest until you were hovering just above his collarbones. Joel’s eyes darted between your thighs, and a soft sigh left his lips as he gazed at the way your lips had parted ever so slightly, giving him a glimpse of your glistening core. When you paused there for a moment too long, he looked back up to your face, expression almost begging you to movepleasejustmovejustalittlebitcloser.

So you put him out of his misery; rested your knees on either side of his head before lowering your aching cunt to meet his mouth.

Joel groaned in relief as his nose buried itself in your hair, tongue darting out to swipe between your soaked folds. You gasped in delight, rutting yourself against him in encouragement. The coarse hairs of his moustache scraped against your clit and you whined at the sensation, reaching up to rest your hands atop the headboard.

Joel licked a firm stripe up your core with the flat of his tongue, and your shoulders tensed as he set to work. He wasted no time setting a hard and fast pace, letting out messy groans as his tongue rubbed firm circles around your clit. You exhaled heavily, teeth biting down on your lower lip. He dragged his tongue to your entrance and dipped it inside you, so quickly that you flinched, before he was back to rubbing your clit, swiping the tip of his tongue back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. He was so overzealous, so hungry for it; exhaling hot air against you while he lathed sloppy kisses against your pussy.

“Hey,” you rasped, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. Joel didn’t let up, simply flicking his tongue across your clit again. You jolted, tightening your grip in his hair and inching your hips away from his face. “Hey.”

His eyes flashed open, lips parting as his mouth tried to follow you when you pulled away.

“Wha—?” he couldn’t finish his sentence as you took his bottom lip between your thumb and index finger, squeezing it once.

“Slow down,” you said firmly. His cheeks flushed. “Moving that fast, a girl might start to think you’re trying to get it over with as quick as possible.”

Joel shook his head in a daze, mumbling a meagre apology against your fingers. Those big browns gazed up at you, wide and sad, reminiscent of a Labrador being told off for eating his dinner too fast. You pressed back down over his face, murmuring a gentle reminder for him to go slow.

He was soft then. Meticulous. Calculated. Every lick, every suck, every graze of teeth, was thought out and purposeful. You could feel more slick oozing out of you as his tongue massaged the flesh between your clit and your entrance.

“That’s it,” you praised breathlessly. “That’s perfect, doing—ohh—doing so well for me.”

Within minutes he had you on the edge, holding the headboard in a white-knuckle grip and grinding down against his mouth as breathy moans fell from your lips. It was reverent, the way he ate you out like it was his favourite thing to do in the world. And as liquid fire began to twist in your stomach, and your thighs burned with the intensity of holding yourself up above him, you could swear you felt him moving. Sparing a glance over your shoulder, you bit down on your lip to stifle the whimper that threatened to escape you at the sight of him.

The muscles of his long tanned legs were tense, the soft flesh of his hips flexing as he thrusted upward subconsciously, his leaking cock desperately seeking for contact but being rewarded with nothing but the humid air of your bedroom.  

You thought about how easy it would be to turn around. To lean down and take him in your mouth. To slide your lips over his head; to taste his salt while his tongue glided through your folds. Just the thought had you careening over the edge, body jerking as you gasped and sighed and grinded the swollen mess of yourself down against his face. Joel moaned gratefully, dark eyes flicking open to watch you as you came. You could feel him everywhere; his facial hair scraping against your twitching inner thighs as his nose bumped against your clit and his tongue lapped at your entrance, sucking and swallowing down everything you had to offer until you were gasping and prying yourself away.

On shaking legs, you made your way back down his body. As you moved, you rubbed your pussy against his torso, smearing a shimmering trail of your slick across his skin. Joel let out a brief, wrecked moan, stomach tensing as you passed over it and then lifted yourself up. His pink tongue darted out to swipe at his lips, savouring the glistening remnants of your taste. Resting on your knees, you hovered above him, smiling breathlessly.

“Fuck.” You admired the sight, pouting your lips out teasingly. “Made such a mess on you, I’m sorry, baby.”

“Jesus.” His voice was pained. “S’perfect.”  

“And it’s all for you,” you hummed, trailing a finger absentmindedly over his collarbone. “You looked so pretty like that. All messy haired and fucked out while I rode your face. So good for me, I’m tempted to let you go down on me all night.”

“I want to,” Joel exhaled heavily. A soft blush had risen across his chest, and he glowed under the shower of praise. “Think about it all the time.”

“Is that right?” you asked demurely.

“S’right,” he mumbled. “Think about the way you taste. About spreading you out and spending hours with my head between your thighs.”

The words were so hot they almost made you forget about the game you were playing.

You looked down, brain shifting gears and mouth going dry at the sight of your puffy lips hovering so beautifully close to the tip of his cock. He was so hard it looked painful. Stiff and pulsing, the vein down the side of his length visibly throbbed. Pre-come dripped down his length, pooling at the base of him.

“Oh, honey,” you cooed, and Joel looked down, groaning at the sight of you so close to where he was just aching. With a soft gasp, you noticed yourself begin to drip. “Look at that.”

Together, you watched a strand of your slick drip out of you, and land directly on the tip of his cock. Joel’s entire body jolted, and a pitiful moan escaped his mouth at the first stimulation he’d received all night. On instinct, his hands rushed forward and gripped your hips, stomach tensed as he thrusted upward into the air. You could see it in his eyes, the burning desire to grab you and pull you close, roll on top of you and just split you open. But this was your night, and you were the one calling the shots.

You tutted softly. “I said, hands off. Don’t make me tie them to the bed,” you clipped. He cursed, hands dropping immediately. “Mmh, you’ll do whatever I tell you to, won’t you?”

He whispered your name hoarsely, lips shifting below his wet moustache.

You ignored him, smiling at the way his cock twitched whenever you spoke. “So needy, so fucking desperate for me to touch you.”

“Yes,” he admit to it through gritted teeth. “God, fuckin’—please. Anything, I’ll do anything. Need to feel you, please baby, I need it.”

You hummed quietly, pondering as you gazed down at the sweaty mess of a man beneath you. “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls, huh handsome?”

His lips parted, harsh exhales rushing past chapped lips. “Only you,” he said firmly.

The corner of your mouth twitched up and you gave an approving nod, admiring the sincere gleam in his eye.

“Good boy,” you murmured. He groaned softly, eyes almost closing at the words. “But I’ve decided I don’t think I’ll use my mouth on you tonight. Or my hands, for that matter.”

Joel frowned, lips curling into a deep grimace as he twisted the sheets in his fists.

“Because,” you continued. “All I want your cock to feel, all night, is my cunt. Nothing else. Do you understand?” 

His jaw slackened and then he was nodding, muttering yeahokayyesyes.

“Yes what, Joel?”

“Please,” his voice cracked.

A wide grin spread easily across your face as you shuffled down the bed, settling your knees on either side of his waist.

“You such a tease,” he groused under his breath.

“Uh-huh,” you chuckled darkly. “And we both know you love it.” He stayed silent, knowing you were right, and watched as you splayed a hand across his stomach, using his body for leverage as you—finally—pressed your folds against his cock. Joel’s stomach tightened as you glided along his length, spreading your slick from his head to his base.

“Can I…?” he trailed off, eyes darting from your face and to where the two of you were touching. You nodded once, unable to look away as he reached down to grip himself, strong fingers wrapping around his length and squeezing once while he notched his tip at your entrance. The lingering sensitivity from your previous orgasm had you shuddering at the contact, walls contracting at the thought of him finally being inside of you.

You pushed his hand away swiftly, placing it back onto the bed. A harsh gasp ripped from your throat as you sunk down on him, gravity taking away any chance for your body to adjust to him slowly. The stretch stung a little, and your mouth hung open, spilling breathy whines.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard Joel exhale, voice ragged.  The muscle in his jaw moved underneath his skin, the muscles in his arms straining as he focused all of his willpower on not fucking touching you. 

“Fuck,” you whimpered. “Y-you’re so deep, stretching me out so good, just how I like it.” You tightened around him and a deep groan tumbled from Joel’s mouth, lids fluttering as his eyes all but rolled back into his head. You wiped the sweat off his forehead and cupped his cheek in your palm.

“Talk to me, honey,” you ran the pad of your thumb across his cheekbone. “Tell me how it feels.”

He grunted, heady brown eyes opening to peer up at you. His hips flexed beneath you and you bit your lip to stop from crying out at the way his cock shifted inside you. Slowly, knees painful from the pressure, you lifted almost entirely off him, before sinking back down. And then you did it again, and again, setting a deliberately unhurried pace and never once taking your eyes off his face.

The room already smelt like sex, a heady mixture of sweat and come, and a warm fog settled over your mind as the moment enveloped you.

You rotated your hips in a circle and delighted in the way he slammed the palm of his hand down onto the bed, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip. His eyes were half-shut, vision drifting to the ceiling as his head sunk into the pillow behind him. Within a second your hand tightened on his face, fingertips pressing gently into either side of his jaw, angling his face back towards you. His eyes flashed open, fully alert now.

“Look at me,” you whispered. “Wanna see those pretty eyes on me while I fuck you.”

He groaned at the words, pushing himself up into a seated position so your chests were almost touching. The new angle made you moan, and you loved the way the softest part of your stomachs brushed against each other every time you lowered your hips against his. Maintaining your hold on his face, you knocked your forehead lightly against his, nudging his nose with yours.

“Come on,” you urged, speeding up the rhythm just a little. “Tell me, baby, I—fuck—I wanna hear you. Do you feel good?”

“Yes,” he choked out. His voice was rough and wanton with need, and he wet his lips quickly upon hearing it. He almost looked shy, with his flushed cheeks and pouted swollen lips.

You hummed, hand drifting from his cheek to hover over his neck. Joel stiffened, nose pressing against your cheek as his head dropped forward doggedly. You let your fingertips graze the side of his neck, thumb brushing over his Adam’s apple.

“Is this what you want?” you murmured.

“Yes,” he repeated against your skin and you grinned, applying soft pressure on either side of his neck.

He moaned a low, tortured sound in response, and you leaned back to watch his mouth hang open as the sensation heightened everything he was feeling. With your free hand you stretched down to take one of his off the bed, and placed it firmly on the plush globe of your ass cheek. Joel’s eyes shot open in surprise, hand tightening instinctively.

He squeezed, gripping the flesh so tight it had you gasping, taking full advantage of the new freedom he’d been afforded. He used his hold to push you up and down faster, quickening the pace of your hips. And every time he bottomed out, he held you down on him for a second longer than you’d planned to allow, ensuring you felt every inch of him, every ridge and vein as he throbbed inside you, pressing against the deepest part of your core. You could already feel bruises forming where the tips of his calloused fingers squeezed you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Until you began to notice the signs, that is – the way his jaw slackened and his eyes glazed over. Relaxing your grip on his neck, you instead stroked your fingers along the skin there, feeling his thrumming pulse; listening to his hoarse laboured breaths; watching the way the rise and fall of his chest had rapidly increased. His cock twitched inside you.

“C’mon,” you whispered. “Tell me.”

“M’so fuckin’ close,” he garbled out mindlessly.

“Yeah?”

 “Y’feel so good,” he gasped, words slurring together. “Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, s’like you were made f’me.”

“Mmm, I know,” you hummed, dropping your hand to press down over his stomach. The muscles contracted under your fingers, tensing over and over again as you moved along his cock. “But you can’t come yet, Joel.”

His eyes snapped to your face, lips silently forming your name.

“I mean it,” you warned in a low voice, hips never ceasing their movement. “I’m not done with you.”

“You can fuck me again,” he shook his head. His face all but crumpled, pupils blown so wide that his eyes were almost entirely black. “Can fuck me as many times as you want, do whatever you want with me.”

You grinned breathlessly. “I know.”

“Please,” his voice cracked, abdomen tensing as you sunk down on him with a particularly heavy thrust. A high-pitched moan left your lips as you grinded your clit against the coarse hair at his base. “M’so close, darlin’.”

“No, Joel,” you admonished quickly, tone clearly too condescending for his liking.

Anger flashed across his face. Sharp and fast, but impossible to miss.

“Fuck you,” he hissed. You clenched around him without meaning to, the fire in your abdomen burning hotter as you watched his patience wane.

Swallowing down a moan, you gave him a measured look, and stopped moving entirely, relaxing your thighs against his.

“That’s not very nice,” you ground out. Joel’s expression loosened, panic glinting in his eyes. “What ever happened to southern hospitality, huh sugar? Do you think you deserve anything if that’s how you’re going to talk to me?” Not waiting for a response, you lifted your hips up, and his cock began to slide out of you painfully slow.

“No, no,” his hands lifted off the bed, hovering warily in the air over your thighs. “Wait, m’sorry, fuck—”

You ignored him, lifting up until you were completely separated. You gasped in unison at the loss, and you fought against the voice in your head that told you to just forget it – to end the entire charade. But you held strong.

“Is that any way to speak to a woman?” you teased, resting your ass on the meat of his thighs. The corners of his mouth were downturned, eyebrows furrowed as he stared despondently at you, face the picture definition of frustration. His length hung heavy in between you, glistening with a thin layer of slick and pre-come.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated softly, and your stomach twisted at the earnestness in his eyes. He meant it, and you knew that. Your sweet, kind, loving man… so quick to temper. And forgiving him too fast would be just setting a bad example.  

“You know I can do this without you,” you lied dolefully, stroking a hand along the damp skin of your own thigh. “You’re nothing special, y’can’t do anything I couldn’t do just as well to myself.”

His frown deepened at your words, hurt flashing across his features. But he knew better than to speak in that moment – knew better than to dig himself into an even deeper hole by trying to argue.

“I want you to watch me,” you ordered sternly, fingers stroking thoughtfully through the coarse hair on your mound. “And if you touch me, or yourself, I won’t make you come tonight. Not even once. If you want to touch yourself so badly, be my guest, but you’ll be finishing yourself off.”

Dark eyes flashed down, jaw flexing as he watched your fingers dip to slide between your folds. You let out an exaggerated sound, gaze trained on the way his eyes devoured your movements. You spotted the muscle in his bicep tightening and loosening intermittently, and noticed that he was gripping the bedsheets so tight that you almost worried they would tear.

Moving carefully, you trailed a finger to the apex of your core and began to run circles over your clit, humming genuinely as the pleasure that had been building inside of you was reignited.

It used to make you shy, the way you touched yourself. The way your brain would run hazy with pleasure, and your hands would take on a mind of their own, grazing over your body as you shivered beneath your own touch. But now? It made you feel fucking formidable. The way you squeezed your breasts, made yourself gasp as you pinched and rolled your nipples. To rub a hand over your lower stomach and press against the soft flesh there, putting pressure on all the nerves underneath the skin to stimulate your g-spot. You were greedy, never stinging away or pulling back from what you knew felt good. It was intoxicating, knowing every intricate part of what made your own body tick. And you knew for a fact that it was like a drug to Joel to see you touch yourself. 

His dark eyes glared at your fingers, awestruck as he watched your movements, tongue swiping greedily over his lips as if in an attempt to taste you again. And when you moaned, he did too, soft groans slipping past his lips and hands fisting in the bedsheets as he watched your fingers disappear inside yourself over and over again.

“That’s it,” Joel said roughly. “Add another finger for me, wanna see you stretch yourse—.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, refusing to do as he asked. He grunted, lips pursing closed. “You like watching me like this? Seeing how I touch myself?” He moaned his assent, raking a hand through his unruly curls.

You were already so high strung, so pent up, that it didn’t take long for you to bring yourself to the precipice. And as you approached to your end, expression contorting in pleasure, Joel’s eyes dragged upward to focus on your face instead of your pussy. Devastated, his eyes flicked once back down to your slick fingers, unsure of what he wanted to see more, before steadfastly holding eye contact with you. And as the high washed over you in sharp, twitching waves, he held your gaze, eyes raking across your features and delighting in the way your jaw hung open in a stupor. 

You rode the waves of your pleasure for a moment, only the stopping the ministrations of your soaked fingers when your clit began to burn with oversensitivity. Your eyes slowly flicked open to find Joel’s gaze still trained on your face, although his expression was lax now. His lips formed a small, somewhat dazed smile, and you felt heat rise in your neck at the way he stared at you. All lust forgotten for a moment, he simply watched.  

“What’re you lookin’ at?” you teased softly, your own mouth lilting into a grin.

“I’m admirin’ you,” he repeated your words from earlier in the night, and you huffed out a short laugh.

“You were so good, Joel,” you responded kindly, leaning forward on trembling legs to cup his face. “So patient, let me fuck myself on top of you and didn’t try to touch me once. Did everything I asked, just like you said you would.”

“Of course,” he murmured, turning to press a chaste kiss to the inside of your palm. “I’m sorry.”

Confusion flitted through you, and then you relaxed, remembering the way he had cursed at you. “It’s okay, honey. Why don’t you c’mere?”

Still smiling, he pushed back into a seated position, this time pressing his chest flush to yours. You looped an arm around his neck, toying with the short curls at the base of his neck as he lined himself back up to your entrance. Once he was in position, he gave you a quick look to check in, and in response you simply sunk your hips over him, letting him fill you to the brim once more. He sighed in relief, forehead pressing against yours.

Tilting your chin forward, you dragged your lips lightly across his, kissing him for the first time in what felt like hours.

“Where do you want to touch me?” you asked.

“Everywhere,” he breathed into your mouth.

Your fingers tightened on the back of his neck, tongue trailing lazily along the seam of his lips. “Then touch me, baby.”

His hands were on you in a second. Calloused palms running over the skin of your back, your shoulders, your hips, fingers gripping flesh for leverage as he began to fuck up into you. He had always been an attentive lover, with a keen eye for attention to detail. And it was never as apparent as when he was touching you. Because as he held you against his chest, dragging you harshly over his cock, he did everything just the way you liked it - the way you did it when you were touching yourself.

His palm pushed on your lower stomach, applying pressure there to intensify the feeling against your g-spot. And when your hands drifted to touch your breasts, his hands came up to cover yours, and you squeezed them together until he brushed your hands away to twist and play with one of your nipples, mouth dropping to flick his tongue against the other.  

It was intoxicating. Both of you so drunk on the feeling of each other, of finally throwing out the pretence and just being together, that you found yourself hurtling towards the edge faster than ever.

As if he read your mind, Joel’s mouth left your breast, face pulling back to watch you, saying “I’m not gonna last.”

“It’s okay,” you panted heavily. “You can—I want you to come.”

“Need to feel you,” he frowned, shaking his head dizzily. “Want to feel you come around me, please.”

“I will,” you swore. “Come on, give it to me.”

“It’s yours,” he whimpered, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you to him. “Fuckin’ take it, it’s yours.”

His hips begun to falter in their movement, and you picked up the slack with ease, rotating your hips against him to maintain the pace he’d set. His cock jumped inside of you in quick, jerking movements, and as soon as you felt his hot release inside you, your own orgasm hit like a freight train, walls pulsing around him, sucking him in as deep as you could take him. Your vision blacked out for a second, the intensity of multiple orgasms finally catching up to you and making you almost lightheaded. Extended moans and laboured breaths mingled in the air, forming a raucous symphony as you rode out your highs. Sweat beaded across his temples and dripped down the hard lines of his face. Your lower half shook with the intensity of it, thighs bracketed firmly against the outside of his hips. Joel sung your name, wet lips pressing the word into the flesh of your neck and repeating it there, embedding it into your sweat-soaked skin like it was all he knew how to say anymore.

“Fuuck,” he dragged out once your hips stopped moving, his teeth nipping gently against your pulse point.  

“Oh honey,” you murmured, head lolling forward to peck his forehead. “Don’t tell me you’re throwing in the towel? I seem to remember you saying something about how I could fuck you again, and do whatever I want with you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” his shoulders shook as he laughed quietly, keeping his face hidden in the crook of your neck. “Give me a damn minute.”

Although you could feel his length softening inside of you, and a mix of both of your come was steadily seeping out past his girth to make a mess of your thighs, you didn’t move just yet. And Joel seemed more than content to stay put, his strong arms enveloping your body almost entirely as he held you against his chest, breaths slowly beginning to even out. You shifted your head to the side to peer at his face, smiling when you saw that his eyes had indeed fallen shut.

“Lay down,” you encouraged quietly, letting out a quiet huff of surprise when he simply fell backwards into the mattress, dragging you down with him. Adjusting your legs to rest more comfortably on either side of him, you laid your head against his collarbone, pressing soft kisses to the burning skin of his chest.

“Just a minute,” he mumbled in assurance, although his eyes stayed closed and his breaths deepened.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly. “Can I get you some water? Something to eat?”

He hummed; eyes cracking open to peer blearily at you. “Water sounds about right.” You nodded, moving to get up from the bed, but he held you down, palm solid on your lower back. “Not just yet though,” he added quickly. “Just stay with me for a minute.”

“Okay baby,” you kissed his collarbone, allowing him a few more minutes of rest before you forced him to drink a litre of water and allow you to clean him up. His fingers mindlessly traced a pattern onto the skin of your back, stirring goosebumps across your flesh.

Slowly, a smirk slid across your face and you tilted your chin up to gaze at him once more. “Just saying though—you should probably get out of here before my boyfriend gets home. He’s pretty quick to anger, and I have a feeling he’d kill you if he found out what we just did.”

Joel groaned loudly, hand reaching up to press over your mouth and muffle your laughter. “Jesus, do you ever stop talking?”

[millerscoffee]

heat lightning

6.5k | sub!joel miller x f!reader

gif credit: @jdmorganz

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: NO OUTBREAK. established relationship, no age gap – up to you for joel's age but he has creaky knees so..., sub!joel, bratty!joel??, mommy kink, rope kink, dom/sub dirty talk, joel whimperin' n whinin', gagging, choking, slapping, spitting, edging (m receiving), oral (f receiving - face riding), piv (unprotected), praise kink (good boy, etc.), pet names (pet, baby boy, honey, etc.), a touch of humiliation/degradation kink (spoiler: a moment of cock shaming – every body is a lovely body!), size kink (he still got that thang tho), we walk by breeding ave., sickly sweet aftercare, lingerie. dude if i missed it - it's probably in here! no use of y/n

A/N: thank u to the sweet anon (u know who u are) who requested this almost a month ago. i hope it was worth the wait! love youuuuu!!! ♡

Joel liked having his way.  Shocking.

This concept drew you to him, not only because you enjoyed being told what to do (every now and then), but even more that you wanted to challenge why he needed things to be his way in the first place.

You’ve been with Joel long enough now to know the mix of events that made him who he was.  Nights and days where he felt insecure for exposing all there was to him, but he was willing to fish it out of him to you.

Only to you.

Tonight wasn’t unlike a handful of nights the two of you shared since being together and unraveling Joel’s vulnerability.  It was beautiful, and in moments of softness, it was easy to reflect on how far he’d come.  But, right now?  You’re a little preoccupied.

---

It started earlier tonight.  Joel refused to wear contacts for the fourth time in a week, and forgot his glasses just as much.

And guess who had to remind him?  You!  Of course!  Every. Single. Time.

To wear his glasses, or put his contacts in.  But the week was busy at work – Tommy gone off again.  Or at least, this was his excuse.  More and more excuses poured throughout the week until it was a mere grunt at your suggestion.

Your knuckles blanching until you just gave up entirely. “Ah, fuck,” you hear from the kitchen, the view of Joel rubbing his eyes not long after the sound.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel,” words are sharp and you clench your teeth.  It catches Joel off guard at first, his head shooting up to meet your cold stare.  And before he can make an attempt to straighten you out, you stand up – rushing to the kitchen.  “I tell you this at least twice a fucking week.  ‘Joel, wear your glasses.  Joel, have you put your contacts in today?’  you know why your eyes hurt so fucking much?  Because you don’t listen to me, and I’m sick of it.”

“You know it’s been a rough week,” Joel’s tyrannical now, his jaw setting – ticking forward.

“Oh, I’m sorry – did I give you permission to speak?” you raise an eyebrow waiting for a reaction, but instead you witness the shift of his hips and the drop of his gaze.

He feels the energetic shift as much as you do, and seems into it.  The hitch in his breath gave him away.

“No, ma’am.”

“Bedroom.  Now.  Swear to god, if you make me repeat myself.”

So he goes and you follow.  And you bring a dining chair with you.

Placing it down, you go to the closet to grab some clothes before turning your heel to face a man whose cock shouldn’t be so fucking hard from getting your last nerve.

“I’m going to change, and you are going to sit on this chair.  Naked.  Do I need to repeat myself?”

Joel beseeches you silently with his dark stare and a steadfast shake of his head, “No, ma’am.”

You don’t respond because you don’t have to and usher yourself to the bathroom – door shuts behind you and you slip into something more dominating.

---

“Darlin’, it’s a little tight,”  Joel rattles now, his strength to hold back waning.  The rope that curled around the strong arches of his wrists tug harshly as it found tautness from behind the chair.

His wrists and ankles tied with knots that Joel taught you how to tie long ago.

The chair at the foot of the bed.

Feet planted firmly on the ground, you peer over him, changed into laced lingerie with leather accents. Red.  Cinched at the waist, your tits bloom out from the cups — daring to spill but never do.  You feel sexy, and you feel in control.  And fuck, you look so good.  Joel knows it, the way he sops you up just by his eyes.

He’s shorter than you like this, but his body still takes up so much space, and it’s intoxicating to observe Joel in such a submissive position in his sturdy frame.

“Is Darlin’ my name?” voice flat, you prop yourself up on the edge of the chair – tilting your head to scan over his body.  You take your time with each part of him.  Because his wrists are tied, yes, but you look down at the rest of him, completely stripped for you.  His hips jolt involuntarily, pathetically really, all from your words and you really watch between his legs.  The head of his cock pulsing with blush, weeping against his stomach and thigh as it arches.  And he twitches at your gaze.

“Oh, he likes that,” you remark condescendingly, and on any other day you’d be eager to wrap your lips around him.  To suck him until his toes curled and your name slipped through the air from his rough, but blissed out voice.  But tonight was about taking the lead, teaching a lesson.  Taking him how you wanted because you could.  And maybe because you loved him and wanted him to experience – to just experience without the expectation of being in command.

“Now, tell me,” you start, teasing the tops of your fingernails grazing the length of his thigh slowly – humming in approval, his body shuddering, his grunts fill the air, “what’s my name, Joel?”

“M-mommy,” the word scorches his cheeks, causing him to bite into his bottom lip and his eyes squeeze shut, precum beading to the tip.  His head hangs in unbearable arousal, chin lifting to catch your eyes.  The soft brown of his eyes, full of desire and willingness to do anything for you.  Anything… except doing what he’s told when he’s stubborn.  Your core aches when you squeeze your thighs together for relief, but you don’t falter.

“Mommy!” a fake gasp, you lean over to pat him on the cheek before smacking the skin ten percent harder, “That’s right!  Good boy!”

And that wrecks him, sends his hips flying off the seat as much as he can, but you’re quick to shove them down.  “Ah, ah, ah.  Not so fast, Mommy’s not done with you yet,” your fingers curl under his chin, coaxing him to look at you.

“How can you make me feel good, pet?  Let’s use our words,” you lean down enough for him to see your tits pushed together like this and the look on his face– god, you’d bottle it.  His brows wilted upwards, lips parting, and they’re so wet, so inviting, you want to kiss them for hours.  The right toy for you to use in pursuit of getting yourself off.

“I—I c’n use my mouth.  I wanna.  Wanna be good t’ya, mama,” and he’s almost begging.  He’s so close, you can tell he’s trying.  It’s just that, he’s distracted–  wants to devour you whole without having to ask, not like this.  He’s still not used to saying the things you so easily offer him on any other day.

“You wanna be good to me,” you repeat mockingly, tongue darting to one side of your cheek, “That’s too bad.  We’re not doing that yet, you still need to learn your lesson.  Gotta make sure you know who’s in charge, don’t we, darlin’?”

You don’t let him answer before you sit back at the edge of the bed, your legs spread as they relax against the mattress.  You watch Joel, how his head won’t look at you directly – not even if he wants to.  He feels too shy, too ashamed for not listening to you, and honestly you’re sick of it because you look fucking hot.

So you clap your hand at his chin lightly, “Miller.  Right here.”

Joel’s jaw clenches, and those deep eyes take their precious time to rake their gaze over you.

“Is that how you act when a gorgeous lady’s in front of you?”

Joel lifts his brows first, then his eyes, “No, baby– I’m sorr–”

“Not my name.”

You see Joel’s mandible flutter again in frustration now because yes, you’re grinding his gears, but the vulnerability makes him uncomfortable, and he grits out, “No, mommy.  I’m. Sorry.”

“You’re on thin fucking ice Joel,” your arms cross over your chest, leaning forward to make eye contact, and though it makes your tits raise, your body language says it all: last chance.

That seems to make him reroute his stubbornnesses because he’s back to open expressions and spread thighs – thick as his cock that weeps pitifully against his abdomen and thigh.

“Yes, ma’am.”

If you were to admit it to yourself, you’re distracted.  His cock looks so good, throbbing like that – bobbing with each twitch as his balls tighten along with it and he’s so perfectly thick your mouth waters, but it is not about making his ego feel good tonight.  Not yet, anyway.  He must understand this behaviour is unacceptable.  Just when you think about caving, you’re reminded of how fucking obstinate he’s been and you get annoyed – dominant, all over again.

“Here’s how tonight's gonna go.  I’m gonna touch myself, use your mouth, and if you’re good, I’ll ride your pathetic excuse of a cock.  Sound good?”  you flash a sardonic grin cutting him off when his mouth opens, “Good!  Now shut the fuck up.”

It shouldn’t make him hard and it shouldn’t make slick gather between your legs, but of course it does because you’re both insatiable when it comes to each other.  Fueling a fire that can’t be tamed anyway, you unfurl in front of him – one palm against the lush duvet while the other trails in front of you, through the lace of your panties.  You squeeze your thighs together again, spreading your mess and there’s a wicked grin on your face because you know he knows just how it feels to have those thighs squeezing around his head.  To make that messy pussy of yours glide over his features.  And the damp fabric emits subtle sloshes from just how turned on you are by this.  You love the opportunity to have the upperhand.

Joel, he looks rabid, eyes unable to move from your core while the sweetest sounds fall out of your mouth.  Like a hypnotising trick from the circling of your clothed folds – a magician’s secret.  His stare is so animalistic you almost want to egg him on like a dog: this what you want, boy?  But you’ve got him right where you want him, and you don’t want to take him anywhere else.

“It feels good, Joel,” you confirm with no pornographic moans.  Rather a solid melody to your tone.  Grounded in your power.  You want Joel to know you can make yourself feel good without him, despite it being very much because of him.  “Better than you can make me feel.”

And Joel can’t take it anymore – he can’t stand it when you lie to him.  He’s seen you with him.  How you blossom under his touch until your thighs are shaking all on their own.  Seen drool spill from the corners of your mouth as you take and take and take from him, slurred praises floating from your needy throat.

“That ain’t fuckin’ true,” he growls like a caged animal, hips squirming into the chair, and you stop pleasing yourself – wrist frozen as the pressure on your clit becomes lighter, eyes narrow.

“Did I let you fucking speak?”  Question rhetorical, you slip your scanty panties off and wad them up before prying his mouth open and shoving them, crotch-side first, inside to mute any more rebukes.  The taste of your sex coats his tongue and his moans are muffled, eyes roll back for a fleeting moment – as if he forgot what he was even saying to begin with.  His wrists slightly turning colour from the resistance against the rope.  Hog heaven, you can hear the southern phrase drawl from his lips without the words.

“And what?  You think you can make me feel better than I can?  You really think that?” Joel finally smartens up when he realises you’re naked from the waist down and can see the slick against the seams of your thighs while your legs are apart – how turned on you are by keeping him on a line, and god the air is thick.  His eyelids droop to the sound of your voice, the scent and taste of you overcoming him as a piteous nod is given to you.  Poor baby.

It should irk you, the fact that he believes he knows your body better than you do, but it rakes the coals instead.  It’s in that he’s so eager to show you how he can get you there – makes you curious, your pussy tingles in anticipation, pulse rises.

“If I let you go, are you going to be compliant?  Because if you think you’re in control, you’re wrong and I need to know you’ll be a good boy for me.  Will you be a good boy for mommy if I tell you what to do?”

The strained pleas from the fabric and emphatic nods give you reason to follow through with your promise.  And he looks like he means it, like you’ve worn him down to submit to you fully without restraint.  You can tell he’s in pain from how hard he is.  Like he’s being edged without even touching him.  His hands must be numb, his body could tremble at the slightest touch.

It’s enough for you to waltz behind him.  You loosen the rope, ghosting your hands over the other typically warm set and despite them being tingly – he can still feel you.  His breath hitches, the slopes of his shoulders are so gorgeous from behind.  The muscles of his back taut as they flex, their silent entreat for relief.  “It’s okay,” you whisper, now that you can’t see him, you feel more inclined to be forgiving.

The arousal is a constant build between the two of you.  When you let his wrists loose, he doesn’t move.  Just rolls his knuckles into fists, bringing blood and oxygen back to the extremities.  He’s good on his word, and makes that known when you untie his ankles.  He’s giving it up to you – totally conceding, and moreover adores this side of you.  He knows he’s the only one you could ever be this assertive with because the relationship you have creates room for it.  Both of you feel safe.  His teeth tighten around your panties when you come back around to him, and you cup your small hand, comparatively, to the side of Joel’s neck.

“You good little thing.  Got mama so proud,” pushing his curls back, you pull the spit-soaked garment from between his teeth and he’s beaming, nudging his cheek against your touch hungrily.  “Go lie on the bed, honey.”

His joints creak from age when he does, having sat there for what felt like an eternity but he does exactly as you say: nothing more, nothing less.  Hums softly to himself at the feeling of being able to lie flat on his back because it feels so good, and in the brief moment it’s there without a role – your adoration for him, the gentle quirks that make him so delectable.  He deserves to sit back like this, to let his brain just take rather than supply.

However impatient he may be in the process of submission.

“You are doing so well, Joel.  I know you have a pristine mouth too, don’t you?  Are you gonna show me your tongue?”  Getting onto the bed, you walk on your knees as this newly obedient Joel sticks out his tongue flat for you to float over.  Your throat dries at that, how perfect he can be for you like this.  A smirk comes over your features, “Much better with your tongue out than running it all the time,” and you swear you see Joel’s teeth creep up in a similar smile, but you’re busy straddling his waist with your ass facing his chest to notice.

His strong nose bumps against your clit when you bracket his head.  Sipping the air abrasively, your body seizes at the sensation.  Clearly more sensitive than your confident words let on, but that’s just the thing – you are confident and extremely horny and you can admit it.  So you give in, purring deliciously when you lower over his mouth until you’re sitting completely on his face.

“Love using this mouth for my cunt,” fingers tangle through the strands of his hair and you use it to roll your hips frantically, yet methodically, against the heat of his wet mouth.  His tongue hits your folds succinctly, on purpose, and even though you haven’t allowed him to touch you, his movements are so precise it’s as if he’s rolling your hips for you.

“Fuck, you’re swimming in it now,” you groan, neck thrown back before leaning your neck over to the side to watch his eyes flutter shut – the slight shake of his achy jaw, the sweat at the top of his hairline.  He’s putting in the work to take it, even when he feels like giving up.

The squelching of your juices has you in your own trance, and though you would wait for his cock to give into the prickling at the pit of your belly, you decide to go give in to what you want in the moment – to orgasm right here, right now.  All over Joel’s face.

Pulling the top of your pubic bone, your clit exposes to the plush of lips beneath you.  “Suck.”  The instruction is simple compared to the stir of fireworks that he sets off inside you.  Because he does what you say, and how you say it, instantly.  Joel’s eyes roll back alongside his muffled, but satisfied moans that vibrate against the bundle of nerves he’s taking his time to satisfy.  Wet suction sounds fill the room when the air breaks off, his tongue swirling right underneath the hood of you and you break out in a sweat from how impossibly good he is at this.

“Y-you’re so good for mommy,” you sound wrecked, Joel looks up at you when he catches just how gone you are.  Loving to see you take what you want from him, using his mouth to pleasure yourself.  You rock deeply, your hands knead over your lace-covered tits and when you look down at him again, he can’t keep his eyes off of you.  Eating you like he worships you, and you’re certain he does.

But using him meant not warning him when you were close.

So it comes as no surprise, the influx of low, masculine, ached groans from beneath you when your body responds to its pleasure.  Your fingernails dig into your fists as you shudder and moan above him, the lightning rising from your core to your limbs in a matter of seconds – and in waves.  You lean forward, catching yourself at the headboard and let out a slight chuckle at the comedown.  The two of you surfacing in between this power dynamic.  “Shit.”

That’s short lived under your ruling, however, and you slide off of him – getting your bearings.  Joel stays still, his mouth vivid pink to match his cheeks, beard and lips sheened with your slick.  The look in his eye shows his constraint, his need for something and when you pluck your gaze down his body.  His beautiful cock straining against his abdomen, a pool of precum greets you.

“This?”  You raise both eyebrows, pointing between his legs, “This needs touchin’?”

“Please,” fuck, he sounds ruined – consumed with lust and need for anything you can give him.  He’s really begging now, not the bullshit he tried to deliver you in the beginning.

“Okay, baby,” you coo, “You’re so good for me, gonna make you feel so good.”  When you finally, finally acknowledge his cock, his abdomen jolts though you barely touch his sides.  You laugh through your nose briefly, “That bad, darlin’?”  His head sways ‘yes’ against the pillow before saying it, and you waste no more time in your pursuit to obliterate him now.

So you straddle him.  Right at his waist, angling above where his twitching cock lies.  You can feel the heat radiate off the both of you.  Your core pulsing from your orgasm, wet from slick and spit.  You have some wits about you now that you came, and it aids you in authorising the next step – the step that has every nerve at the edge of its seat for Joel.

Joel’s body.  The taut skin, the hair down his arms and across the landscape of his chest down his middle.  Your own body fills with anticipation when you anchor your hips further down until your folds are greeted by the underside of his length and it’s unhurried when you both shudder in response.

“Sh-shit, shit, darlin’–mama,” he inhales sharply, those words transitioning to whimpers when you glide your hips over his cock back and forth with intention – applying more pressure with each pass.

“Yeah, you like that?”

Joel’s tongue skates over his bottom lip as he nods frantically, and you still yourself.

“Nuh uh.  Words, tell me.  Need to hear you say it, Joel.”

“F-feels so good, honey.  Feels like my kinda paradise.”

Or at least that’s what you are pretty sure you hear.  It’s rushed from his feverish breaths, but he’s doing his best.  Wants to make an impression that he is committed to giving in.  It’s when his eyes slip shut do you lean your body over him, tilting his chin, you wrap one hand around his throat though it doesn’t quite reach around to completion.

“You beautiful man. Keep your eyes on me, yeah?”

Joel blinks them open to see your hooded eyes above him, unable to hide just how in awe he is.

“Y’look gorgeous, mama,” and shit– you feel your cunt clench around the absence of him at that.  At how candid and altruistic his words are in the moment.

“You’re one to talk,” you run the tops of your fingers against his beard, hips languid.  “Stay right here.  My good boy.  M’gonna take this big fucking cock.  That’s right, isn’t it?  Make you know for certain who it belongs to.”

And he loves hearing you talk about him like this.  Looks so serene as you sit upright, peeling the rest of your layers off until you’re both naked and he looks like he desperately wants to touch you, but you give him a stern look – not yet.  Not until I take you myself.

Reaching behind, you press the head of his cock at your entrance and hiss at the instant stretch.  Not working yourself up with his fingers shows when you envelop him like this, and you can feel him digging his heels into the bed from just how you feel around the head of him.

“M-Mommy!”

The sound of him whining is symphonic to your ears.

“Shhhh, you can take it.”  The role reversal makes you shiver, your wet sex moving down a little more before you pull up, popping off of him completely and his hips stammer trying to follow you, but he soon realises the edge you’re bringing him to.

He’s greeted with your sinister smile.

“What, honey?”  You lean over him, forcing his chin up, you deliver a slap to his cheek before sliding down his cock again – working him up and down, then off again.

His bottom lip trembles and puffs.  He’s losing his cool, hands ghosting your hips because he knows better than to touch you like this.  Not when he’s so close to getting what he wants.  The heat, the fucking heat from them – you shake.

“P-p, mama, mmngh,” his whimpers put you in a daze.  How he feels so good he can’t even form a proper sentence.  Your free hand claws at his chest while the other at your front edges him – rocking against the underside of him again.  Minutes feel like hours when you rile him up like this, and you know you look a mess too.  Fucked out, nipples peaked and you catch his gaze on them – his hunger for you extends through the room leaving heat on your skin as it radiates, the energy bouncing off from this tantric experience.  The eye contact is insane: Joel’s pupils dilated, eager against the constant spasm of his cock against your messy folds.

All humidity, sweat, and sex make their presence irrevocably known.

You’re slipping.

But you muster one last discipline, leaning down so your tits graze against his chest.  You brush your nose against his, insisting his precum spreads against your entrance.  He grunts, teeth together, hips grinding as best as he can without breeding you into your submission.  And fuck, you’d almost allow it.

Almost.

 “Should’ve worn your fucking glasses.”  You whisper against his lips, your clit brushing against the coarse hairs of his lower abdomen, and it’s exactly then does he spill over his breaking point.

“I’ll wear them, I’ll wear them!” And, fuck, Joel sounds pained – he sounds sorry, and he sounds desperate.  “Please!  Please just let me come, mama.  I wanna paint ya up so good, honey.  P-please, mama!  I’ll get fuckin’ lasik – please, just lemme in that perfect pussy!”

That’s the green light.

Placing him back inside, your hips grind on him shallowly.  Both hands tighten around his throat, albeit a bit looser than the one fist he’d have around your neck – but it seems to do the trick and you buzz in satisfaction before a choked moan fills your lungs: the sound he’s been craving.  Your body giving in, doing what it does.  It’s nature, after all, giving into these feelings.  “Fucking take this cunt.  Fill mommy up, yeah?  You wanna make me a real mama, baby?  C’mon, let go for me.  You can let go, you can move.”

It’s a lightswitch.  It’s flipping a breaker, giving Joel such permission.

You yelp when he tosses you off of him.  Onto your back, he’s on his knees within a blink – gripping your thighs, he pries you apart before his cock spears inside you with little remorse, and “Oh-my god – your cock!” you scream.  It’s exactly what you need now.  You nod through knitted brows, praises fill the space between you.  You take his chin between your thumb and pointer, one arm around his shoulders you pry his lips apart to transfer spit right inside his mouth.  Your tongue glides over his and he drinks straight from the source.  You can feel his Adam's apple wobble as it swallows what you’re giving him underneath the pad of your thumb.  “That’s it, that’s a good boy,” you mutter sloppily from the rutting of his deviant hips.

Gravity’s against you when you spit in his mouth again, getting some of it on your chin and nose, but fuck, you don’t care.  You want it filthy like this with your head half off the bed, his fingers plucking your nipples as it ripples pleasure down your center.  “I’m doin’ okay, mama?  This whatcha need?”  This sly fucker.  “S-s’perfect!”  The requirement of reassurance fastens you in the leadership role you assumed in the beginning, and you���re so fucking thrilled Joel’s your partner.  How he can deliver you mindblowing thrusts, yet still look at you through his lashes like he’s the softest motherfucker on the planet.  A gleam of pride in his eyes and at the corner of his lips when he hears your juices be tapped in a fast tempo by his heavy balls.  Like giving you pleasure is the pearl he longs to hold for dear life itself in his capable hands.

Of course, he circles your clit for good measure.  Of course he would.  Little shit.  It works like a charm.

He knows your body, said it himself.  How it operates, how to take you there.  And you’re panting, hips lift to be greeted by his thrusts all the way to the base of your stomach – achieving the spongy spot only Joel can reach.

You feel it happen like a coiling, a buildup of thin air and then all at once: immense pleasure.  It snaps, your body convulsing around his cock, core fluttering as your moans get higher, and you think he’d slow down, but it makes him work harder.  You try to keep your eyes on him, but it’s just no use, he’s too good at his job.  “F-fuckin’, mmngh,” you can’t get out much else, but you’re soaking his cock – what else could possibly be said?  Your tits bounce to his thrusts and you can tell this is it for him.  He’s been so proficient at keeping it together all this time.  Your eyes pop open then, lips wet, you tug for him to come closer.  You don’t fucking care that his sweat sticks to your shoulder when he buries his forehead against your neck.

Joel keeps his whimpers close to your ear.  His moans of your name, his passion for this feeling – all of it, right against you.  Like a secret, like a prayer and you’re the divine goddess in every moment of reverence.

“Can’t last,” he drawls, a coherent sentence flows through him for a moment and you nod, mouth brushing against the red of his neck.  “Give it to me, Joel.”  Lips dance at his pulsepoint as the contact bounces from his thrusts, and you can hear his heart thud from outside his body.  It floods you, the sawing of his cock inside, the swelling sensation against your walls.  Tugging his hair, you pull him back just enough to see his faded eyes, “Give me every drop, baby boy.  Come for mommy.”

His lips attempt to make contact with yours, but really all he can do is breathe heavily into your mouth and it’s dizzying, being each other’s oxygen.  “S-s… so p-perf–,” he tries, he really tries in making the words connect, but even his core feels shaky from his forearms on either side of your head.  You snake your hands around his throat once more, and that’s fucking it.

Joel’s sounds are a mix of the low grunts you know, tailending with particular whimpers that leave you moaning back to him like a call to each other.  Holy fuck, you’ve never heard him make that sound before.  And he’s good on his promise – coating your inside sticky with his substance, your own vibrational tone is low in your throat as you hum in approval.  Until he rides it out.  Until his pleasure turns sensitive and his hips come to an end.

“Oh, baby,” you praise, delicate hands leaving his throat, you pet his back – warm and masculine and rippled with muscles that he attained from his work.  He’s out of breath, and you both laugh at it, pressing tender kisses to his nose and lips.

“Might fuckin’ die at this rate.”

“Well, at least we had a good run.”

It feels empty when Joel pulls out of you, his lanky body shakes the bed when he gracefully thwacks onto the mattress beside you.

“Mmmng.”

A flawless response.  Mmmng, indeed.

You stretch your arms overhead, facilitating a yawn in the process.

And you don’t ignore the way it feels to have his cum spill out of you.  Hot and sticky and where it’s meant to be.

“Stay there,” you whisper, rolling onto your side, “You did so good.  I’m so proud of you, baby.”  You even speak differently now – tender and light, peppering kisses all over his tired face in satisfaction.  Slipping up to your feet, you go to the adjoined bathroom and run the bath.  Putting a couple of drops of your favourite essential oil to make the sensual experience last in the afterglow.  You peek your head out from the bathroom door when it’s ready and give him a gentle look of compassion.  “It’s ready.”

Joel grunts when he propels all of his upper body strength to sit up in one go.  You can’t get enough of him.  The way he looks – sleepy and fucked, arms thick and shoulders broad.  You have both earned this bath, even if it’s crowded.  He sinks in, and you get in front of him, and honestly you both close your eyes for a long while.  Exhausted, used.  He wraps his arms around the front of your shoulders, and it’s regulatory to your nervous system.

“I really am sorry,” he finally gruffs, wide palms cater to your shoulders as you melt and sink into the bathwater with him.  “This week’s been… it don’t matter.  You tell me ‘bout my eyes all the time, and I never listen.  I will, I promise.  I didn’t mean t’make your life harder.”

You frown at the last bit, turning in the water so your chest is against his.  Drops spill out the tub when you do.

“You never make my life harder, Joel.”

“Seems like it,” and you can tell he’s not saying it to play the victim.  He’s vulnerable and feels safe enough to share this shame with you.  “Seems like I end up fuckin’ somethin’ up.”

No.  You won’t be having any of that.

Taking his cheeks between your hands, you shake your head in tandem with your words.  “Not even close, do you understand?”  Sternly, you keep his eyes poured into yours.  “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.  I mean it.  You make everyday brighter.  Even when you’re a royal pain in my ass.”

You both join in with laughter before you rest your warmed cheek to the hairs on his chest.  “I swear.”

Joel’s throat vibrates to the tune of your last words, and fingers comb through your hair, leaving you both to flutter your eyes shut in the all-too-small bathtub.

“Okay, I believe you.  But only ‘cuz I’m a pain in your ass.” 

You take in his warmth, so much as sniffing at his words, and it feels good to be connected like this after those moments of taking matters into your own hands.  It feels good for both of you to be unarmed to each other without consequence.

When it's time for you to get out, you dry off before holding out a towel to wrap around him and you lean up, pressing your lips to his – both naked and comfortable.  Basking in the aftermath – the scene you two created in the bedroom you transition into.  Your eyes scan over the bed: the unkept version of sheets, pillows haphazardly thrown together and you individually slip your clothes on.  It feels nice to have a soft fabric cloak over your skin, his t-shirt fitting easily from the worn material.  Joel takes your hand in one of his, the dining chair in the other.  You look back at the room before flipping the light off.  At least for a moment, you’re both pretty tired and will work around the mess soon.

Then there's the kitchen.  Where it started.  But you don’t feel the same aggravation creep up as it did before.  Instead, Joel wraps his arms protectively around you when you rise to your tiptoes to grab a couple of mugs from the cupboard.  It feels like slipping into a warm pool, and you never want to leave.  He is more enchanting than the tub could ever be.

“Hot liquid for my man?”

“Y’could just say tea, I ain’t gonna gag, you know?”

You snicker, turning the kettle on and closing your eyes as his chin tucks at the crease of your neck, not so sure he means it.  Coffee?  Yes.  A blend of chamomile and lavender?  You weren’t so sure.  But he doesn't turn his nose up when you press the teabag to him, so you sneak a kiss and you plop one bag in each cup.

“I dunno, you might gag,” a knowing smirk grows at the side of your cheek that Joel’s at and you mercifully knock temples, as if your brain waves could send each other the memories you have from tonight.  Everything primal and raw, all for the both of you.

“No more gaggin’ tonight,” there’s a laugh in Joel’s words and you scratch his beard idly as you pour your hot drinks when it’s time.  “That’s alright, baby boy.  Mama can handle a little bit of gagging if it means you’re taking.”

“You better watch it,” smile behind his voice, his nose nudges the edge of your jaw and a shudder draws out a small purr from deep in your chest – especially because you know there’s not an ounce of a menacing tone behind the threat.

“I’m not doing anything,” the grin transfers to your face and you turn to face him, arms wrapping around his shoulders because you can and he pulls you up until your feet leave the ground.  It’s a stretch that feels good, your heart’s content.

“Yeah, you’re just so good.  You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be bad unlike us common folk.”

And that makes your cheeks rush with blood because you know it’s only a matter of time before the tables turn.  Before you’re caught doing something Joel has told you thousands of times to do or don’t, and he has you in some precarious position to drive you back to the version of your best self.

Still, it’s funny, and you nose against the column of his neck – all sweat still mixed with the bathwater and something so innately, masculinely, Joel Miller.  “Not too good, just clever.  I get away with a lot more than you think, old man.”

“Easy.”  His tone shifts all too easily into a warning, his hips pinning you to the edge of the countertop.  Your eyes widen before you press your index finger to his lips, shushing him.

“Relax,” you pet his shoulders, before leaning up to kiss his eyelids, “I like that you’re an old, senile man I can swindle.”

“Goddamn, you’re at record time in attempting to prove just how misbehaved y’really are.”

Finishing the tea, you hand his mug off with a nonchalant shrug.

“I learn from the best, I guess.”

You wait a beat.

“So… lasik, huh?”

Joel practically chokes on his beverage.  “Uhhh…,”

“Great!  I’ll book the appointment tomorrow!”

You won’t (probably), but the look on his face is priceless.

“Yeah, yeah.”  That makes Joel smile eventually, his rough hand cupping the side of your face before planting a dichotomously tender kiss to your forehead, and you are steadfast to reciprocate the affection.

The only thing that matters, anyway.

No matter all the hardships, the restless nights.  It’s this.  It’s delivering Joel to his knees as he worships you, then securing him with a warm cup of liquids in the form of tea, bath, the undulating nature of your arms in their energetic vibrations when they find his frame.

You would take care of him.  You would catch him.

Like how rivers bend and rush to oceans:

Everything leads back to him.

taglist: @cool-iguana @livingdeadmaria @sinfulrock @jasminedragoon @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @scarletthefierce @pedritoferg - comment to be added, and please let me know if i missed you!

[urmomsgnocchi]

18+ minors dni i stg sub!joel miller (taste of switch!joel in the end) x fem! reader

little drabble bc all I can think of today is using joel miller like a toy it's very bad!!

bf!Joel Miller's competitive ass losing a bet with you and your prize is to have your way with him until he taps out

warnings: overstim (unrealistic standards for ppl with penises. will we ever really know how many times joel came? 😔), joel calls you mama 2 times get over it <3, good boy!joel miller, bondage but very light, unprotected piv sex (not mentioned but also condoms are not mentioned), tiniest bit of oral m!recieving, riding <3, now that I think abt it consensual free-use/somno kinda?? for like 2 seconds??

joel isn't a gambler by any means, but he trusts his luck now and again. so when flirting during game night leads to a bet on who would win the most of the games you'd set out for the night, he'd thought he had it in the bag....

hours later he's tied to the bed frame by the silky straps you keep in the box under your bed, whining and panting as you ride him through his second orgasm of the night. your touch hasn't left his body since your little game started

a water break in between, little check ins reminding him that he can tap out whenever he wants but he's gotten competitive again, he won't let you win.

he's a big strong man he can handle a few orgasms? you'll tire out first right?

hours and hours pass and Joels blissed out and pussy drunk, tears shining on his cheeks and throat raw from all the whines, moans, screams, he barely remembers letting out. he can't tell how long you've been at it or how many times you've pulled pure bliss out of his body, all he knows is that he's wet, whether it's from your pussy once again soaking his lap, from your mouth that's kissed and kitten licked every inch of his skin, from his own cum that's dripped down from you onto his thighs and bedsheets, or from the cooling sweat that's trickling down his forehead and neck.

he feels you tighten around him as he vaguely recognizes your moans through the fog of his last orgasm. your body chokes him tight as you reach your peak once again and his body starts to shake. he mumbles out what's meant to be "thank you mama" but comes out more like choked gasps and shuddered breaths as he feels himself twitch inside you. you climb off him and trace the last little dribbles he has left with your tongue. he jolts at the feeling, his body pulling taut as he tugs on the ties still securing him to the bed posts and lets out the most pathetic little strained whines in protest.

"all right baby I think I'll tap out for you huh?" you speak down to him from your position between his twitching thighs, "think maybe you took as much as you can" your finger gently tracing down his now soft but still weeping cock.

a weak whimper in response "please baby. m'done"

"did so good for me though my sweet boy" you untie his arms and let him curl into your side, stroking his hair as his body finally slows it's shuddering.

you wake up hours later to joel's cock, firm and warm, sliding in and out the apex of your thighs, his voice hot, wrecked, and alive in your ear,

"mornin sunshine," his arms snake around your waist and hip to pull you up where he wants you "didn't think I gave up did ya? just needed a breather, now let's see how much you can take mama..."

[corazondebeskar-reads]

to know that you're mine

Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 732

Summary: Joel Miller is a pussy eating king with a praise kink. That's it, that's the fic.

Warnings: d/s undertones, sub!Joel Miller if you squint, they’re exploring their dynamics okay?, use of ma'am, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m-self), this is so soft idk what's gotten into me, praise kink, cuddling

originally written for kinktober 2023, inspired by the prompts from @absurdthirst

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Joel’s on his knees on the ugly yellow carpet of your bedroom. He’s still dressed, but his boots are dutifully lined up at the door. He had come home riled up about something or other, not that he bothered to tell you first. He had scooped you up from the couch and carried you to the bed, depositing you at the end and making quick work of your pants and panties.

He certainly doesn’t seem to be willing to talk about it soon. His face is buried in your pussy, now, troubles of the day easing with each moan he drags from you.

Your hand tangles in his hair and pulls, hips rising to meet his eager mouth. When you tug, he moans against your cunt. You’re bucking uncontrollably now, torn between wanting to cum and wanting to drag it out for the exquisite ache.

He makes the decision for you, though not on purpose. You finally hear it over the wet sounds of his worship. The hand balancing him against the bed has shifted down, and he’s working away with sharp, abrupt tugs on his cock.

You cum so hard you black out for a moment, and he swears, grinning in the filth.

“F-fuck, baby, are you getting yourself off?”

Joel blushes. “S’that fine? I won’t cum, I’ll wait so I can still fuck you.”

“Is that fine?” you say. “Of course, it’s fine. It’s so fucking hot. You like eating my cunt so much you can’t help yourself?”

He looks away.

“No, baby, please. I love it. I want you to get off, please.”

He ducks back down to suck on your clit, and the distraction works. It’s a few moments before you realize he’s got both hands back on you.

You tug on his hair again, yanking him away.

He groans a protest but stops when he sees the way you’re watching him, something fond but hungry.

“Baby. I said I want you to touch yourself for me,” you say.

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawls. It plays casual, but you know he sees the way your cunt clenches around nothing at his words.

He spits in his hand and starts slowly stroking himself, before using his other hand to part you and lick inside.

You scratch your nails over his scalp before clutching again when he pushes two fingers into you and laps at your clit.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” you moan. “You look so fuckin' good down there.”

You’re not sure if he hears you. He’s pumping his cock in time with the strokes of his fingers, and when he peers up at you, his eyes are glazed over.

“You want to cum like that, or do you want to fuck me?” you ask.

“Please,” he says into your cunt, barely stopping to answer.

“Please what, baby?” You run your fingers through his hair.

“Don’t make me stop, please.”

The words alone might have brought you over the edge, but he punctuates the sentence by sticking his tongue in alongside his fingers, and you cum. You accidentally pull hard on his hair, but he whimpers and pushes in deeper, the bridge of his nose against your clit, and it sets you off into a smooth, rolling second orgasm.

“C’mon baby,” you croon. “Cum for me.”

And he does. He half-suffocates himself, sucking on your clit as he spills all over his hand and the end of the bed. You cum again, hard, and pull him into you, trapped in place by your legs.

You tug again until he looks up at you, panting, soaked in you. “Get up here.”

He climbs up, and you grab for his hand, licking him clean.

He shudders, watching with parted lips. He looks dazed and peaceful, brow lax, shoulders slumped. You suspect that if he wasn't so tired, there might have been a round two.

He lets you shuffle him around so he's lying down, his head on your tits. You run one hand through his hair and rub the other up and down his spine.

“Joel,” you murmur after a few minutes.

His eyes are closed, but he hums in acknowledgment.

“Thank you, baby.” You press a kiss to the top of his head, and he lurches up to kiss you back, cupping your cheek in one hand.

He pulls away, and his lip quirks up in one corner. “No, thank you, ma’am.”

*title from "#1 Crush" by Garbage

[qveerthe0ry]

My first WIP Wednesday on this blog!

Anyone want Joel not being able to handle afab!reader riding him? And some whimpering, perhaps? Maybe a bit of sub!Joel undertones?

18+, mdni

“Baby,” he whimpers.

“Thought you wanted my pussy? Don’t you like it, Joel?”

You lift up until he nearly falls out of you, and then slam back down, throwing your head back at how deep he reaches at this angle.

His fingers grip your hips even tighter, bruising and stinging. His breath whistles violently through his nostrils, stuttered and heavy.

“Like it too much, darlin’, please.”

You spare him for a second, grinding down in his lap, swiveling your hips to help him simmer down.

His grip loosens the tiniest bit, and you watch his jaw clench and unclench as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“You can take it, can’t you? For me?”

You pout and rock your hips and feel his chest expand with a shuttery gasp right under your palm.

“Sweet christ, the mouth on you tonight.”

His tongue pokes out to wet his red, bitten lips. When his eyes open up, they’re all pupil, black and glossy and shining. Your cunt flutters around him at the sight of him so far gone, undone because of you.

[https-cyber-slxt]

Joel Miller SFW & NSFW HCs

I'm replaying Tlou and my obsession for this man has grown 😫

SFW

Hesitant when he first met you

But after learning about your relationship with Tess, he slowly started trusting you more

Heavy back talker, you swear at him, he'll swear back

But also very sweet, if he were to loose you too, it'll be the death of him

Taught you how to play guitar

Very, very overprotective

Let's you rest your head on his shoulder while taking breaks

*Accidentally* held hands with you while walking on the rooftops

You didn't mind though

"Darlin'/Sweetheart" 🛐

Also, a great cook, I mean he was a dad so 🤷‍♀️

NSFW

Certified DILF

Man's likes his shit rough

This man is loud, like really loud

Bondage, BONDAGE 🗣️

Has a love-hate relationship with edging

Live Laugh Love Overstimulation

Definitely into riding your strap

Face-fucking is a yes as well

Doesn't mind semi-public sex, the thought of getting caught turns him on way too much

Gets hard from just your touch alone, especially if it's in front of someone

Moans ✅ Whimpers ✅

Miss/Master

A/N: Smashing my head against the wall rn

[seventeenpins]

wanna be felled by you, held by you

pairing: Joel Miller x nonbinary!Reader

word count: 4.7k

summary: Joel has always issues with relinquishing control. Time in the safety and community of Jackson has changed him, though, and he wants to give all his control to you, let you pull him apart.

content/warnings: established relationship, non-binary transmasculine reader, no implied age gap, Joel is uncircumcised, vaguely implied past Joel x Reader x Tess polycule, Joel calls you sir & daddy, you call Joel a good boy, sub!joel, cock sucking, titty fucking (reader has breasts big enough to partake in such), face sitting, piv, a smidge of dysphoria alluded to, crying, everyone's bi, one (1) smack to the face, it's literally just 4.3k of smut with 400 words of domesticity, slight bit of bloodthirstiness (but just as love as consumption)

a/n: title from NFWMB by Hozier. There's a lot of fic out there with helpless naive reader (which is fucking excellent, don't get me wrong), but I wanted to write something where you and Joel are on par with one another. Also, wanted to say--this is written as one character's experience as a nonbinary person. I'm nonbinary, but in no way want to suggest that the way I've written this is necessarily a universal nonbinary experience. Pls be kind 💜 Would love to know if y'all like this and would read more nb reader fics!!

✨check out my masterlist for other fics 😚✨

The first time Joel asked you to blindfold him and fuck him rough, you thought he was joking.

You laughed and stroked his cheek, "That would be fun," you admitted, teasing, "Be careful what you wish for, baby."

He rolled his eyes and kissed you, and the day went on, uneventful.

The thought weighed on you. It would be fun, but this was Joel Miller talking. He was, arguably, something of a control freak. Insistent on shouldering burdens not only his own, but of all the people he loved. You'd never seen him willingly give up an ounce of control, and the few unwilling times it'd happened, he would drive himself nearly to death trying to seem unaffected by injury. He'd carry on as he insisted he must, even when his bones were broken or he was bleeding out. Even when you, or Ellie, or, Tess (back in the day) were patching up cuts or setting bones, he'd grumble and insist he was fine, only shutting up when he quite literally passed out from the pain or blood loss. He was as stubborn as he was devoted, and he was a devoted man.

So the idea of Joel relinquishing even a crumb of control seemed outlandish. You were a better shot than him. A faster runner, too. But he was so self-possessed. You were certain, too, it was part of the reason he was such a good fuck. He payed attention to every detail, noticed every one of your gasps and whines, at this point able to get you off faster than you could get yourself off. His fingers knew right where to press, his tongue licking and sucking at you, teeth biting at nipples, grip bruising you so deliciously. He could fuck you for hours and leave you stumbling, spent and sated.

That said, it'd be a lie to say it was an unappealing thought to turn the tables on him.

You'd love to pull him apart piece by piece, if he would ever let you.

Joel was off patrolling today, due back any time, and you were making dinner. You were thankful for the ingredients available in Jackson and swore to make good use of them, every single time.

You'd roasted butternut squash with garlic and sage, scooped out the flesh, and mixed it with spinach and cheese. Then, carefully piped it back into the squash skins and roasted it again.

It was decadent, and a favorite of yours. Rich and creamy and everything you loved about autumn flavors.

Right as you were turning the oven on to broil, you heard the latch click and heavy footsteps crossed the threshold.

"Supper's nearly ready," you call, and you hear a soft grumble from across the room as he stomped off his boots and hung up his coat.

Joel slides up behind you, arms circling around your stomach, chin resting on your shoulder.

"Hey baby," you greet, turning your head to place a kiss on the curve of his nose. "Good day?"

"Hmm," he grunts, noncommittal, "Better now that I'm home with you. Dinner smells great."

"Just a few more minutes left. Letting the cheese get bubbly."

"Mmm," he groaned, "Is this that squash thing?"

"Yep."

"Ellie home?"

"Nah. Out for the night, I think."

"So I get you all to myself?" He shoots you a cheeky grin.

"Don't distract me, Miller," you snort, "You will not cause me to burn dinner again, so help me God."

"Distract you?" He says in mock offense as he walks over to the fridge, "I would never distract you, baby."

He pulls out two beers and pops the tops, handing one to you. You clink with him and both take a swig. Jackson beer was something else. After years of nothing even slightly palatable, it was a luxury you swore you would never take for granted again.

Your timer buzzes and you pull the roasting pan out of the oven as Joel sets the table.

Dinner is pleasant. Joel's famished from patrol and he wolfs down his first serving at a speed that might have rivalled Ellie's, back when you were all travelling together. He finishes his first beer, and then a second, and when he reaches for the whiskey, you raise an eyebrow at him.

"You're really putting that away," you frown, and he winces, sheepish.

"I-" He starts, and stumbles, hesitating.

"You okay, Joel?" You ask.

He nods, and grins, and it's a funny grin because if you didn't know better you'd think he was nervous.

"I'm a bit nervous," he says, and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Why you nervous baby? Did something go bad on patrol?"

"No, I-"

"You trying to propose?" you tease, "Wait, no--you're cheating on me?"

"Oh shut up," he rolls his eyes and laughs. "Nothin' so serious."

"So-?" you press, "What is it then?"

He pours a finger of whiskey and takes a sip, and it's calculated. Calming. That bit of control, again, he needs to put off.

"You remember the other week, what I said?"

"My back hurts?" you suggest.

"Smartass," he snorts.

"My knees hurt."

"Jesus. No, the other thing."

You try and take account of whatever it might be, but nothing's coming to you.

"I have no clue what you're talking about, Joel."

He takes a deep breath and looks at you dead in the eye. Determined.

"I know you thought I was joking, but I wasn't joking," he says, "I want you to blindfold me. Fuck me rough. Let me... lose myself in you. Use me."

There's a moment of silence.

"You sure, Joel?" you ask, not wanting to sound too eager. "Cos I'm happy to do it, I just know that... well. If I were to expect anyone would like to be blindfolded, you're not at the top of my list."

"Oh really? And who's at the top of your list."

"Well, I bet Tommy would--"

Joel cuts you off with a sputtering cough as his whiskey goes down wrong. "Let's not talk about my brother right now."

"I remember Tess used to," you recall, and Joel nods. Shrugs.

"I guess I just- I've never seen you out of control. You sure you can do that for me?"

Joel ponders and nods. "I can be good for you," he insists.

"Okay, then," you tell him, "When do you wanna do this?"

"Well," he grins, and runs a hand down your arm, "Like you said, we'll be alone tonight."

"Joel Miller, you absolute freak," you tease and he grumbles.

You ponder for a moment before nodding. "Okay, baby, let's get showered and then we can start. I'm covered in cooking sweat, and I think you might still have a bit of clicker gunk on you."

He brushes at a chunk of something in his hair and grimaces. "I'll take care of dishes later. Let's go, baby."

Shower sex wasn't really your thing; there was always less friction than you'd expect, and one person would hog the water while the other was standing, freezing in the extraneous spray. It was easy to slip, and the angle was never quite right.

You did, however, love shower foreplay.

You let Joel run his hands across your back, spreading suds up and down you, rubbing at the sore impressions where your binder had cut into you throughout the day. You loved feeling his body, slick from the wet with coarse curls of hair across his entire chest, trailing down his torso, his belly, into the thick thatch between his legs. More than anything, though, you loved feeling his cock hardening against your leg as he massaged conditioner into your scalp, before you could turn around and return the favor.

Once you were both clean, you made your way to the bedroom.

Thankful that you'd changed the sheets this morning, you were thrilled that the bed was made with your favorite linen sheets. A little luxury that you could bask in, sensation that always delivered.

"You ready, Joel?" you ask, and he nods.

"Let's do it."

From the box under the bed, you pull out the blindfold. A makeshift piece that was once a sleeping mask, cut and stitched to have long, tying ends that could be pulled taught and prevent any light getting in. The two of you didn't use it often, and you'd been the only one to ever wear it, but it helped that it was a familiar thing.

"Sit," you tell him, and he backs up on to the bed. You take a moment to look him up and down, drink him in. You want him to see how you're looking at him. At all of him. From his freshly washed feet to his heavy, half-hard cock, to the damp curls of his salt-and-pepper hair, you want him to know exactly what it is you see. A man. A partner. A whole fucking meal.

You hold the blindfold up to him and wrap it around his head, crossing the ends over front and back again before giving it a little tug.

"Can you see anything?" you ask, and his face twitches a little as he tests it.

"No," he confirms, "Can't see a thing."

"Okay," you tell him, "Good boy."

He lets out a sharp, surprised exhale and you immediately see how his cock stiffens at your words.

"Oh, you like that, huh?" you ask, and he nods.

"Use your words, Joel," you tell him and he scrambles to obey.

"Yes, yes, sir, I like that."

"Mmm," you hum in affirmation, "Glad to hear it."

You start torturously slow, directing him as needed.

"Lay back," you tell him, "All the way on the bed," and he does, inching his way up.

"Arms up, too," you command, "You don't get to touch me without my say-so, got it?"

He lets out a grumble but nods.

"I'm gonna take my time with you," you tell him, and now you're making your way up the bed, close to straddling him, but not letting an inch of your skin press against his hard cock.

You know that the warmth of your cunt is radiating heat towards him, and that he can feel it as his hips unconsciously buck up towards you, focused enough that he still doesn't dare touch you, but not by much. You feel yourself start to get wet at the sight of him laid bare before you. It's times like these that you're awe-struck. So in love with this man you want to slice him open and bury yourself in the sticky wet viscera. Eat his guts. Kill for him. Die for him. Consume every part of him and let him consume you.

You lean over his body and press kisses to every silvered scar you can find. From his forehead, to the old bullet wound on his arm. Down his chest, his belly. The gouge you and Ellie had had to stitch up years ago, ugly and pink and perfect; a testament to his endurance.

Every press of your lips to his skin and Joel is gasping. You know he's feeling it--the thing you like most about being blindfolded is not knowing where sensation will occur next. Not being able to anticipate a touch here, a bite there, the way his hands grip your body. The surprise is part of the allure, and with every kiss you place on his bare skin, he lets out another shuddering breath.

"You're doing good for me," you praise, and you swear you can see him blush, his cheeks reddening beneath the blindfold.

You start slowly, dragging your calloused fingertips from the swell of his thighs, up his torso to his nipples, pinching them a little, delighting in the way he shudders at the sensation. You avoid his cock, but every time you run your fingers along his inner thighs, he would rut up towards you in a mortifying involuntary motion.

He was so eager. He was so fucking perfect. Exactly what you needed. You were so grateful, every day, that you'd made it this far when it had often felt impossible that you might live another day.

"Gonna let me play with you the way I want to?" you ask, and he nods, vigorous.

"So good for me," you tell him, "So good. Hard for me, ready for me to use, huh?"

"Yes," he agreed, "Use me, please."

You rub your drooling pussy against his length, getting it wet and slick. Then, you take his cock in your hand.

He wasn't expecting it and he's shuddering at the sensation. "It's so much," he whispers, awed.

Joel thrusts into your hand as you start pumping along his length in earnest. Your thumb swipes over his slit, and then slides down, gripping with your forefinger as you apply pressure to the base of his shaft, You watch as the blood vessels swell, your hands working as a pseudo-cock ring, and Joel whimpers and pants against the sensation.

"Look at how fat your cock is for me," you praise, "I can't wait to sit on this."

Joel's inhale sounds ragged and worn, and he exhales something close to a sob.

"Feel so good, honey," he tells you, "Fuck, your hands feel so good around me."

"You like this, huh, Joel?" you ask, and you know it's true. He's so hard, rubbing against you as he gives you all his faith, all his trust.

"Yes, Christ, yes!-" he gasps.

You give him a few more strokes and then lower yourself over him, holding your breasts tight together, letting his hard cock press up between them.

Your breasts weren't your favorite thing, God knows if top surgery were a safe option in this world you'd probably opt for it, but apart from an occasional dysphoric spell, you'd more or less made peace with that part of yourself. You knew, too, how Joel loved feeling the plush of your breasts against his skin, and when you were comfortable, you were happy to make the most of them.

The second you slid his cock between your heavy breasts, Joel lets out a strangled groan. "God, yes baby," he heaves, and without thinking, reaches to grab at you, clutching your shoulder with one hand and burying his hand in your hair with the other.

You immediately stop and draw back, delivering a firm smack to his jaw. Not enough to hurt, just enough to startle, and he reels back, throwing his head back onto the pillow.

"The fuck did I say, hmm?" you ask, and he lets out a breath.

"I'm sorry baby, sorry sir-"

"You know what you did wrong?"

"Touched you-" his breathing is heavy, labored in the most beautiful, raw way. "Touched you without your permission."

"That's right," you tell him. You drag your fingertips through his hair, along his scalp, down his neck and across his chest. He shudders and his hips buck up towards nothing, involuntary.

"You gonna be good for me now?" you ask him and he nods, vigorous.

"I'll be good for you," he hisses, "You're so good to me, fuck, thank you, thank you-!"

You lean back down, pressing your breasts together again. Fisting his cock and stroking it, watching him squirm. You press down again, letting him fuck up between your tits.

"Don't move," you warn him when you see his fingers start to twitch, "Keep those hands above your head and let me make you feel good."

"Yes sir-"

"Good boy."

He groans, and you start to move. Pressing your breasts tighter together, swallowing his length entirely, gliding up and down. You feel the slick of his tip starting to weep precum, smell the delicious tang of it.

With your free hand, you swipe a thumb over his head, delighting in the way he squirms and ruts against you.

You lick the slickness off your thumb and moan. "Taste so good, baby," you tell him, "You wanna try it?"

"Oh fuck, yes, please," he whines.

You swipe your thumb over his slit again and bring it up to his mouth, still sliding your breasts up and down his length.

"Open up," you direct, prodding at the side of his mouth. He does, opens his mouth with a shuddering breath, tongue glistening and ready. You press your thumb against his tongue and he licks and sucks at it greedily.

"Look at you," you tell him, "Licking up your own cum like a good boy, huh? So fucking good for me."

"Thank you sir," he hums, and you give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'm gonna suck your cock now, Joel," you tell him, "And then I'm gonna ride you. And I'm gonna get myself off at least three times on you before you get to come. You got that?"

"Jesus Christ," he groans, "Yes-! Can I-" he cuts himself off.

"What?" you ask.

"Can I eat your pussy?" he asks.

You grin. "Ooh, look at you," you tell him, "Taking the initiative, huh? What a good boy you are. But you gotta be patient for me."

You scoot back on the bed and let a string of saliva drip from your mouth onto the head of his cock. He immediately shudders and fucks his hips up towards the air.

"Blindfold still blocking everything, yeah?" you ask.

"Yeah," he confirms, "Can't see a thing."

"Good," you say, and then without an ounce of warning, you grip his cock, stroking down, pulling his foreskin back and plunging the hot wet gash of your mouth down and around his entire length, nose pressing into the sweaty curls at his base.

The shout he lets out is delicious. Loud and strangled, half an exclamation, half a curse–"Fuck baby, Jesus fuckin' Christ that mouth feels so fucking good. I don't fuckin' deserve you, don't deserve how fuckin' perfect you are, how good you make me feel-"

You bob your head up and down, swallowing him deep and then pulling back, making sure to swirl your tongue along his head.

"So damn good," he gasps, and his words are stilted and broken.

You keep going, for maybe a minute, maybe an hour. The sensation is too much and he's panting and gasping. "I can't-" he cries, "you're gonna make me come, please-"

You pull off immediately, and he hisses at the loss of your lips around him, and then moans into your mouth when you lean in to lick against his tongue, letting him taste every bit of his own musk.

"You're doing good, baby," you praise, loving the way he shudders in response. "Now hold still, I'm gonna ride that cock."

You straddle his hips, swipe your cunt along his length, feeling the way he shakes and twitches against you. You're wet, so damn turned on, soaking, trailing your slick along him as you rut up against him. Then, you fist his cock and, excruciatingly slowly, sink down onto him.

The broken wail that escapes his lips is delicious, ragged and beautiful.

You bounce up and down, watching with pleasure as Joel's fingers twitch, like he's trying so hard not to reach for you, grab for you like he usually does.

You rock along his length, sliding up and down, nearly unseating him from you before sinking back down. You find the right angle for his cock head to press just right against that sweet spot and feel your legs start to shake.

"I can feel it," he grunts, teeth bared, "Feel you getting close."

"Think you deserve to feel me come around you?" You ask, and you can feel it approach. "Think you can feel me come all over this dick and you won't come yourself?"

"Yes, sir," he cries out, "I'll be so good for you. Won't come till you let me."

"Good boy," you stroke his cheek and rub your thumb over your clit in punishing circles, feel your pussy start to clench.

"Gonna ride this out," you tell him, and feel yourself tip over the edge with a broken gasp. Your walls throb around him, pulsing tightly, and Joel looks absolutely pained as you slam yourself down him over and over, practically choking his cock with your tightness.

You're heaving and half-overstimulated but the way he looks wrecked is so beautiful you need more.

"Think you can handle another one?" You ask and he splutters a gasp.

"Already?" he breathes.

You keep your thumb pressing circles round your clit as you keep riding.

"Already." You agree. You've barely finished riding through the aftershocks but you're so wound up, you know you can get yourself there quickly.

"Fuck," Joel whines, "Oh god, oh god-"

You feel yourself start to tip over the edge again and Joel's face is screwed up in concentration, doing his absolute best not to bust in you before he has your permission. His cheeks and chest are flushed, sweat dripping down his temple, soaking into the blindfold. He breathes ragged, heaving breaths and the sight before you makes you come all that much harder.

"God, you feel so fucking good, baby," you tell him, and your pussy's still clenching around him, your slick gushing around him, drenching his thighs.

You pull off of him and he chokes at the loss of contact.

"Gotta taste us now, baby. Clean this pussy up. When you're done, I'll let you come."

He nods, eager, and opens his mouth, his tongue waiting to taste you.

"Need you down the bed," you tell him, and he scoots down, tongue still out. You climb up his body, straddling his stomach and his chest, trailing slick all up his torso, before resting your knees on either side of his face and slowly lowering down.

He's so dedicated, the moment he feels your heat near him you can see the way his mouth waters, his tongue darting out to find your folds. He licks you deep and long, groaning at the taste.

"How do we taste?" you ask, and his exhale is shaky and rough.

"Never tasted anythin' this good in my life." He tells you, wrecked. "We taste so fuckin' good together. Could drink ya all day long."

"We might have to try that," you ponder, "But for now, I just need you to give me one more. Can you do that? One more, baby boy?"

"Fuck, yes sir." He nods his head vigorously and reaches his neck up to press his lips back to your dripping cunt.

"Yeah, that's it. Nice long strokes now, yeah? You gotta swallow every drop of me baby, every drop of this pussy juice I can give you."

He grunts an affirming noise and does as you ask. Long licks from taint to clit. Deep, hot, laving wetness, making you jerk and mewl, riding his face like he was made to take it. Maybe he was.

"When it's good and clean," you instruct, "I need you to focus on this clit, yeah? That's it, baby, point your tongue. Press hard. I've already come twice and I'm nearly numb– Need that extra bit of sensation if you're gonna get me off right, and I know you will get me off right if you wanna come tonight."

Every sound he makes is akin to a whine, a gasp, a sob. He buries his face deep, at one point nearly reaching up to grab your thighs and pull you closer, but he realizes his mistake before he starts to touch you.

"Good boy remembering the rules," you praise, and you grab him by the wrists, holding them against the bed, above his head. You sink lower, letting yourself nearly suffocate him, but he doesn't mind. He loves it. Growls into your pussy and eats you till tears are pooling in his eyes and your legs are trembling so hard you're worried any extra sensation might topple you over. It's building quick and fast and so fucking nice.

"Joel, I-" you stumble, nearly unable to speak. Overwhelmed. "I think I'm gonna come again." You say, and you feel the rumble of his affirmation against you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes just like that, you eat pussy so fucking good, I'm gonna, I'm gonna-"

You come with a scream, thighs smothering him, hips rocking against his chin, his tongue, his nose. The scratch of his patchy beard feels incredible against your soft skin and you fuck his face hard, less careful than ever before about how you sink into him.

Catching your breath, sated, you pull yourself up and off Joel, licking his face clean of your cum as you allow him to catch his breath.

"Done so good for me," you tell him, "You ready to come now too?"

"Yes-" he cries, still gasping for breath, "Yes, sir."

"Can't believe we've never done this before," you praise, "You're a natural. Just gotta give up a little control like a good boy, let daddy make you feel good."

He shudders and twitches, groaning at the name you've given yourself.

You turn your attention back to his cock and nearly gasp. It looks red and angry with need, precum catching at his foreskin before overflowing, streaming down his length.

"Where do you want to come?" you ask him, giving him this one concession.

"Huh?" he asks, clearly surprised.

"In me?" you suggest, "On me? Pick a hole. Pick a body part. It's yours."

"Jesus," he groans, and thinks. "Your mouth," he decides, "Wanna come in that sweet mouth."

"It's yours."

You seat yourself at the end of the bed and give him a few kitten licks, loving the way he hisses as you clean the arousal off of him. "You can come for me whenever you want, now, baby," you tell him. "Did so good, I think you deserve it."

"Thank you," he cries, "Fuck, thank you baby."

You pull his foreskin back again and wrap your lips around his throbbing head, loving the taste of the tangy musk of the nectar spilling from him. You don't go down far, just around the head and back again, just a little. Sucking hard. Licking. Drinking him in. He shudders and gasps and cries and you're pretty sure he's weeping at this point, his hips bucking up, pressing his cock deeper and deeper down your throat.

You let him. He's certainly earned it by now.

In a few moments, his thrusts get erratic, and you run your teeth gently along the pulsing veins, marveling at the beautiful, intricate web of life that rushes through him, red and hot and so close to the surface. Blood pumping so fast and thick.

"I'm comin'-" he chokes, and suddenly, hot sputtering bursts of cum filling your mouth, coming and coming and coming till it's dripping out the sides of your lips and dripping down your chin.

You keep a hand around the base of his cock, jacking him gently till you're sure everything he has to give is in you. Running a hand up his body, you delight in the harsh, heavy breaths he gasps out.

Groping around his head, you pull at the blindfold, tugging gently till it's pulled above his eyes. He scrunches them closed for a moment, readjusting to the lit room, before looking at you, jaw dropped.

You're sitting before him, totally bare, skin sticky with sweat, thighs glistening, and his cum in your mouth, except for where it's dripped down your chin and breasts. You open your mouth to show him, just for a moment, and then swallow, delighting in the way he groans at the sight. Then you wipe your chin with the back of your hand, lick it up, and pull him up towards you so you can kiss him properly.

He grabs you by the back of the head and pulls you in, hungry and sated at the same time.

"That was so good, honey," he tells you, "So fucking good."

You give him a gentle kiss to his forehead, enjoying the sensation of your sweaty, sticky bodies pressed against one another. His tears, unimpeded now, are streaming down his cheeks but he's grinning like a maniac.

"Never thought you'd let someone fuck you blindfolded like that," you tell him and he snorts.

"Me neither," he admits, "But- I trust you. And I'm workin' on it. On bein'- vulnerable."

"I liked it."

"Me too."

"So, can I tie you up next time?"

Joel snorts. "We'll see. Might need at least a week to recover from this one."

"We'll see," you agree, smirking. "We will see."

[pedge-page]

Will we get any more Sub Himbo!Joel? I miss him and his neediness…. :(

 Over the Edge

Sub!Himbo!Joel x F!Reader

Summary: Sometimes Joel gets so caught up in making you feel good, he forget how to make himself feel good too.

Warnings: Sub!Himbo!Joel, Softish Dom reader, face fucking , oral F! Receiving, tongue fucking, edging, orgasm denial, naked Joel on his knees, squirting, hands free ejaculation, male masturbation, Mommy kink

18+ ONLY

- - - - 

Joel’s got the fluffiest hair.

 It’s so rich and lusciously thick, curls bouncing back into place each time you run your hand through their soft strands. Frames his face so perfectly.

He looks so good on his knees too. 

“You gettin’ your daily nutrients from Mommy’s pussy, huh baby?” You ask with a grin.

Joels mouth is latched between your spread legs, his pretty eyes peering up at you from below as you grind your pussy into his tongue. He hums in response. 

Naked and kneeling on the floor, his erect cock sticking straight against his belly with little jolts, Joel Miller falls into a state of hypnosis. He strokes along your smooth thighs and calves, the breath of his nose fanning against your folds. When he digs lower, the tip of his snout nudges your beady clit. His beard scratches along your skin, but it burns . Based on the way you sigh and roll your hips against his face harder, he can tell you like that. Mommy likes that, and he’s eager to do it more.

“Touch your cock, big boy.”

He doesn’t wait. His right beefy hand immediately fisting over his sensitive length. He grumbles into your mound, almost pulling away to gasp. Your hand quickly grips his hair and pushes him back into your cunt, making sure he keeps slurping like he’s supposed to. 

“You fisting your poor dick? Just like Mommy does it.”

He nods, gulping down the juices that were pooling in your mouth. His body quivers from pleasure, sticky beads of precum that had been oozing from his tip now generously coating him as he pumps himself.

His taste buds and dick feel so good right now, he feels himself rising off his feet. Euphoria building so quickly that his whole being is shaking and wiggling. His hand wraps around your ass to keep his jaw pressed to your sweet pussy.

“Good boy,” you whisper. You don’t even need to remind him. He’s learned now from punishment what happens when he takes his lips off, though some part of you suspected he liked the punishments.

You can tell he’s working himself near orgasm: nostrils flaring with quick breaths, tongue that is buried inside your walls going slack. Even his eyes faze in and out of focus. His whole arm working his cock like a mad man ready to burst his load—

“Off,” you command plainly.

He immediately removes his hand from his cock, whimpering into your pussy lips. His poor dick pulses angrily. Beat red and slapping his belly from denial. Joel’s mind is fighting the instinct to keep going, to deny himself his orgasm the way you demand it.

“That’s my good boy. Mommy’s good big boy,” you coo, rubbing his cottony head with affection. He breathes in your scent and closes his eyes in agreement. Stomach clenching and unclenching, he wills his body to calm down from the edge until he’s ready to eat you out at full speed again.

Again you make him touch himself, and he knows to pull away from his angry length when he’s close. The noises from his throat get more needy each time. They vibrate onto your numb as he rolls his tongue and sucks on it like a tootsie pop. Watching him shift on his knees uncomfortably, he tries to rub the ache in his balls with his heels if possible. But he knows nothing is going to feel as good as cumming when you let him. 

He’s waiting for it. Waiting for your praise and command to release, knowing he’s been such a good boy this whole time. Your approval is the single greatest pleasure of his life now, the thing that he looks forward to each day when you play with him like this.

Finally, a small alarm goes off in the kitchen.

You smirk. “Hear that baby? You did it!” 

Joel humps the air excitedly. It’s been a hour of edging and he hasn’t cum yet. His cock and balls hurt like hell, swollen and throbbing aggressively, but fuck he actually made it. In the past, he used to immediately blow his load the second he put his face between your legs and just sniffed your arousal. Its been a long time since then, and neither he nor you couldn’t be prouder.

“Tongue out.” You stick yours out for him to see.

He follows suit, tilting his head back so you can see its pink muscles flex. There’s a slight grin on his cheeks, knowing you’re going to take over. And all he has to do is sit back let you use him until you’re satisfied.

You lean back a little further, gripping the back of his head with your fists. The tug on his hair pains his skull, but it’s nothing compared to the way his tongue slips inside your entrance. You throw your head back and moan, beginning to fuck his tongue with fast ruts of your hips. 

It’s long and gummy, curls up in just the right places. He sits back on his haunches as you fuck yourself on it. His lips are stained with your succulent juices, and he feels trickles of it sliding down from the tip that’s plunged deep inside your walls down to the back of his throat, struggling to swallow. He really wants to eat your cunt all the time. It’s the best time of day, whether you ride his face, or shove him against your pussy and fuck him like this. 

“FUck—Joel—Such a good fuck toy—getting Mommy’s sweet nectar. Gonna make you big and strong. FUuuuccckkkkk—shit— Letting Mommy fuck your tongue. Nothing but a dumb little whore for Mommy’s pussy, huh sweetie?”

A strained grunt huffs from his esophagus and you laugh. You push your entire snatch against his face, suffocating him and rolling your hips as deep as they can go. You don’t care that he can’t breathe. Nosed stuffed against your pelvis with your thighs atop his shoulders. His tongue is such a good fuck, almost as good as a normal sized cock. The further it goes into you, the wider it gets, stretching your hole. You bite your lips as you feel the wire in your belly begin to tighten. 

You don’t care that Joel is tapping your thighs, begging for air. Fuck his needs. Not when he looks so good, red cheeks puffed against your legs, eyes bulging with love and fear. You fuck him harder, leaving no room to pull out of you.

“Nobody knows you get all your vitamins and minerals straight from your Mommy’s pussy. You drink every last drop, yeah? Get you all drunk before we go to the bar tonight. I bet not even Tommy knows you eat pussy on your knees like this. My little pussy-eating slut.”

He needs you to cum. Needs it like air and water, food and shelter. Life is better when you're cumming down his throat, or on his cock, fingers, any bit of him that makes you feel good, makes him feel heavenly. He'd let you put him in a collar and walk around town naked on his hands and knees if it means you'd smile down upon him and shower him with your praise.

Finding the right angle, his nose perfectly nudges your clit perfectly. You yelp and begin to cum, moaning loudly so he knows what a good fucking boy he is. So good in fact, that you squirt into his mouth without warning, and his dick almost explodes from excitement on its own had he not gripped his fist to stop it. 

Joel knows to swallow your juices. Flooding his mouth with squirt after squirt that he can barely gulp quick enough, yet he always manages to in the end. Never wasting a delicious drop. Joel lives for your squirts, knowing it doesn’t happen often. You’re on your tiptoes, practically hunched over his head for support as you hold on to that beautiful high that only Joel Miller knows how to bring you. 

Once the last roll of your orgasm subsides, you pull away just as Joel cough and gasps for air. He smiles lazily up, swollen lips and bushy beard dripping with your arousal. You push his face back in again, smearing your dripping cunt against his cheek, over his nose again and then to the other side. He just grins, letting you defile him with his favorite fucking pussy in the whole world all over his face. 

You even push him down further, letting your lips part along the bridge of his nose. It’s strong and big, literally the perfect fucking face to ride every feature. Sliding up and down, Joel giggles as your twitching clit humps his forehead, at the same time your slit rolls down to the tip of his nose, poking into your hole briefly.

“Such a pretty face for a pretty boy,” you tease, stroking his cheeks. “You enjoy your meal today?”

“Yes Mommy.” His voice is wrecked, throat probably still clogged up with your release.

“You wanna cum now?”

“Y-Yes Mommy. Please? I’ve been g-good.”

“Get on top of me.” You take his hand so he stands and follows you to the bed. Carefully lying down, he crawls over top you, keeping the same close distance the entire time. His hands positioned on either of your sides as you roll your top up, exposing your naked chest. A pathetic whine escapes his lips, his eyes trailing down to your body.

“Touch yourself.”

Joel brings a shaky hand to his cock and begins jerking himself off. His speed increases, quickly working up his denied state. He’s so close, biting so hard in to his tongue that he almost draws blood. His whole body is on fire, all focus on the thick member that is getting beat between his legs. It bobs painfully, fat shlickshlickshlick sounds filling the room along with his groans.

He rasps desperately, squeezing his eyes shut. Face scrunched up in deep, frustrated concentration, shiny with sweat. He keeps licking his lips to savor your juices, hoping it will get him there. But nothing is working. He’s been on edge the entire time and now when he can finally cum, when you finally tell him how good he’s been, how much hard work he’s done, he cant fucking do it. What if you scold him? What if there’s something wrong with him? What if you think he doesn’t love you?

Finally, he whimpers, letting go of his unsatisfied weeping cock and falling forward onto your breasts. “I cant— it hurts—I cant do it,” he breathes out in defeat. He feels horrible; heart shattering because there’s this block inside him, and he can’t give you his cum, his love, to show you how much he appreciates letting him eat you out. What the fuck is wrong with him???

You feel his shoulders sagging as you rub his head. “Shhhhhh, it’s okay.” You kiss his forehead, cradling his cheeks so he looks up to you. “Sit up f’me,” you say in a soft, calm voice.

Joel sits back on his ass as you straddle his lap. You’re careful to avoid touching his dick, just holding his face as he stares deeply back and forth between your eyes. You kiss his lids with soft pecks, his lashes brushing against your chin. “You’re okay,” you repeat reassuringly. Placing your hand on his chest, he takes a deep breath in and then pushes it out. His heartbeat is erratic but slowly starts to dissipate as you hold him close. All the tense muscles in his arms and back unwind under the careful trace of your palms soothing over his skin. Joel sits back and remains motionless, letting you shower him with soft, loving touches until all but his dick is relaxed.

The moment your knuckles just barely graze the veins against his fat cock, your nails brushing along the tip, thick ropes shoot out from the slit. He gasps just as you seal your lips around his, and Joel keeps cumming, untouched, as white ribbons paint his and your thighs. His brain clears of all worry and thoughts, except the one that tells him how you always know what he needs, and you’ll always give it to him. And he shouldn’t be worried about anything when he’s in your adoring arms, wrapped up in your embrace like his whole world keeping him grounded. His member throbs violently with each pulse of his seed, until finally dribbling down to little blobs. 

“That’s my good boy.” There’s no hint of anger. Just love. Just everything he needs and nothing more.  Nothing less.

 You suck along his lower lip before releasing. Joel breathes out a long sigh, closing his eyes and falling back against the bed in blissful peace. 

You carefully lie down next to him, resting his head on your breasts . Kissing the top of his head, you brush along his arm once more, feeling him drift to sleep.

You don’t expect the dreamy words that slip from his lips, and possibly unaware that he was thinking aloud:

“I love you.”

He’s softly snoring against you before you can even process it.

- - - -

more Sub!Himbo!Joel: Safe, Closer , Statement, Mine is Mine

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

[yorkshirewench]

Check out this wonderful fic! I’m not the biggest fan of sub!Joel even though I do read it occasionally, however this one is a real gem. 💎

I think one of the things I like best about it, is that it’s the start of a Dom/sub relationship when neither side really expect it and it all happens really organically.

Both Reader and Joel react instinctively and there’s incredible potential, you can imagine so much more for them after reading it.

Reader is so understanding and gentle with Joel, I just love her.

I’ve left a comment for the author on AO3. If you read and enjoy this fic, please try to leave a comment too. I’m hoping they one day feel inspired to write more. ❤️

[poeticpascal]

I’ve finally got an idea that I’m actually inspired to write. But I’m scared it’s an idea no one will want to read lmao 😭. Basically a sub!Joel x dom!reader where she’s pretty nasty to him, but there would be a happy ending. Basically just a reverse of a lot of the mean!Joel fics out there. What do we think??

[urmomsgnocchi]

another day of checking the sub! logan howlett and sub! joel miller tags and finding no new fics

let my baby boys be my baby boys

[slowdivinqs]

I’ve read every sub! Joel fic i can find. SOS!! does anyone know any more on ao3 or something?

[lotusbxtch]

I knew Javi P was a whiner but sub!JOEL being a whiner?? Delicious. So. Fucking. DELICIOUS. Bravo @mountainsandmayhem !

Do Your Worst, Little Dove

Little Dove Masterlist

Pairing: Sub!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Summary: Joel lets you take charge for once.

Word Count: 7.2K

CW: Submissive Joel, spitting, oral (male receiving), toys, anal play, light bondage, praise kink, slight degradation kink, Joel is having the best time while simultaneously having the worst time

AN: I don’t know what came over me with this one, but like….I think I might be a dom? Thank you @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69 and @joelmillerisapunk for dealing with me yelling about this. Love you all

Joel lets out a hiss as you tighten the leather cuff around his wrist. The metal buckle rubs roughly against the smooth black leather as you bind his arms to the headboard. He balls his fists and the veins in his forearms start to pop below the skin. You step to the end of the bed and admire your handy work. He looks fucking hot - in just his unbuttoned jeans, arms stretched above his head, wrists bound together and tethered to the bed.

“Are you sure about this, Joel?” You ask timidly, even though you’re jumping for joy on the inside at the chance to play with him for once.

He lifts his head off the bed to look at you, “Yes, baby. If you want to try being in charge, I’ll sub for you.”

You bounce on the balls of your feet and smile sweetly at him, “ok good.”

You walk towards your closet, and his head falls back to the bed, turning to rest his cheek on the mattress as he watches you. “Because I’ve been thinking,” you say, your back towards him as you slide open your closet door, “well, I’ve been thinking about what kind of domme I am.”

“That right?” Joel says as you dig through one of the drawers, looking for the sexy little outfit you bought for tonight.

“Mmmhmm and I don’t think I’m a whips and leather type - ah, there you are,” you hide the lingerie from Joel’s view and sneak into the bathroom to change, with a quick glance at Joel you notice his cock already getting hard behind his jeans.

You undress before sliding on a pair of baby blue lacy panties. They have little yellow and pink flowers embroidered on them, that are paired with a matching corset that plunges deep between your breasts. It hugs you in all the right places and you know Joel is going to lose his mind.

“Little Dove? You coming back?” He calls from the bedroom. You smirk at yourself in the mirror. He’s needy for you for once, and that’s a very powerful feeling.

You slip on your white silk dressing gown and head back to the bedroom. “That’s another thing I was thinking of. What are you going to call me? Because I am certainly not your Little Dove in this scene.”

You climb up and straddle him, careful to not let him see what’s underneath your silky cover up. Leaning forward and bracing yourself with your hands beside his head, you brush your lips against his, pulling back when he tries to kiss you.

He lets out a deep groan as you grind down on him. “I think you should call me ‘goddess’ while we do this. Do you think you can do that?”

His breathing is already starting to get ragged and jumpy. “Yes, my goddess,” he says deeply. The baritone of his voice fills your body, a wave of arousal flooding you.

“As I was saying,” you sit back up and start to slowly pull the tie of your dressing gown, “I don’t think I’m the whips and leather type of domme. I might inflict a little pain today, baby. But overall -“ your dressing gown slips off your shoulders, pooling around you and Joel’s hips.

His eyes widen and he pulls on the restraints, so badly wanting to touch your body that’s wrapped in a delicate blue lace as you continue to talk to him, “Overall I just want to take care of you. Please you.”

“So fuckin’ pretty, Little Dove,” he hums. You pinch his nipple roughly and he hisses, “Goddess. Sorry. Fuck,” he says through gritted teeth, “Look s’beautiful, my goddess.”

You kiss his nipple better, then continue up his chest to that sensitive spot below his ear and whisper “Good boy” before sitting back up. Joel is surprised but how those two little words go straight to his cock. As you grind your pussy down you feel him grow fully hard. “You’re going to need a safe word, baby.”

Joel raises one eyebrow at you, “Everything we talked about was pretty tame. I think I’ll be ok.”

You hop off him and make your way to the foot of the bed, grabbing his jeans by the hem and pulling them down his legs. The denim makes a scratching noise against your soft bedding, until he’s left in just his tight black boxers.

“Roll over, baby.” You say sweetly, deciding that your domme personality is going to look and sound nice, but she certainly doesn’t appreciate Joel dismissing what she’s capable of. You watch his broad body roll as you walk to stand along the side of the bed. As he settles onto his stomach you continue, “Did I hear a little attitude? Saying you don’t need a safe word?”

You scrape your nails gently up his leg, starting at his ankle, swirling your fingers as you move up to the hem of his underwear. “No, goddess,” he says with a moan.

“Well, it certainly sounded like it, as punishment that’s one denied orgasm.”

He huffs out a breath. “Yes, my goddess.”

You roll the band of his underwear down so it sits just below his muscular ass cheeks. You bend over to place some lingering kisses along his round cheeks. He relaxes into the mattress, melting under your touch. He shuts his eyes, humming at the sensation. With his hands above his head like this, he has to rest his forehead on the mattress, he’s blind to what you’re doing which just heightens the feeling of your lips.

“I want you to thank me when I deny you that orgasm, Joel. Can you remember that?”

“Yes, my goddess.” He whispers. He’s so relaxed that you almost feel bad grabbing your new paddle from under the bed. It’s a pretty, soft pink leather paddle with Good Boy cut into it. You can’t wait to see his skin pink up around the letters.

You trail the soft leather of the small paddle up his one leg. “I got you a little present today, baby boy,” you say, voice a little more stern but still sweet. “Do you know what it is?”

You trace the outer globe of his ass, over his lower back and down to the other hip. “No,” he whispers, the paddle now moving down his other leg.

“Did you want to guess?” You say, watching his body twitches in anticipation when you pull it away from his skin.

“Felt like leather. Maybe a paddle?” He guesses.

You bring the paddle down on his right ass cheek, not hard, but enough to have him suck in a sharp breath. You strike again in the same spot, harder this time and he pulls on his restraints, gasping a little.

“Sssshhh. You’re ok baby,” you rub his right cheek, the word showing very faintly across his ass. You feel yourself getting wetter, if you do this a few more times you’re sure your panties will be ruined. For good measure, you strike him two more times in quick succession. The hits are a little softer but you know from being Joel’s sub that those often sting the most. He moans and gasps, he’s only held to the bed by his hands, he could easily roll away. But something inside of him is telling him to stay, learn what it’s really like to be on the other side, but also prove to himself that he can do this.

‘Good Boy’ is now almost tattooed across his right cheek. The word written on his tanned skin, the stinging pink skin around it acting like a neon sign. You use the other side of the paddle to rub his cheek. His body jolts with the soft contact - he’s on edge, not sure what you’re going to do next and not expecting gentleness. “Fuck, goddess. That hurt.”

“I know, Joel. That’s the point.” You kiss the tender skin of his cheek a few times before continuing. “I’m proud of you. And you should see your ass right now. Proudly displaying what a good boy you are for me.”

You roll his underwear band back up and he lets out an impatient groan. “What’s that sound for?”

Joel huffs out a breath, “Nothing, my goddess. I’m sorry.”

You click your tongue at him, “You are so impatient. This big strong man of mine, already whining for me to touch his cock.” You straddle his lower back, lean your body down into him and grip his hair tightly, pulling his neck back. He lets out a pained moan as you lick a line up his cheek before whispering into his ear, “I’m just getting started little one.”

You release his hair, his forehead landing softly on the mattress. “On your back,” you bark, swinging your leg around and standing at the side of the bed again. You slowly open the bedside drawer where Joel keeps all the toys and accessories that he loves to tease you with.

“Do you still think you don’t need a safe word?”

Joel winces as his sore cheek hits the mattress. “Goddess, if I survived watching you build that goddamn ikea bookcase. I can survive anything.”

You smirk and bite your cheek stopping the laugh from escaping. Every so often Joel Miller, a man of few words, makes a joke that you are never expecting. “Maybe your safe word should be Allan key.” You retort.

“Yes, goddess,” he says with a wink.

You shuffle some things around in the drawer before finding what you’re looking for - the beginner metal pinwheel. While it looks intimidating, it’s not as sharp as the one Joel now uses on you.

“We are going to play a little game, baby boy,” you start, placing the pinwheel in the band of your underwear and walking to the foot of the bed. “I am going to set a timer for one minute intervals. I’m going to play with your cock for one minute, then use the pinwheel on your body for the next minute. Is that ok with you?”

Joel’s breathing is coming in faster, goosebumps have spread across his body as he stares up at the ceiling. “Y-yes,” he sputters as you slide his boxers down his legs. “Please touch me, my goddess.”

“Oh Joel,” you say his name slowly and sweetly. “Joel…Joel…Joel. You’re not in charge, sweet boy. I think this means we are now at two denied orgasms.”

He groans quietly towards the ceiling. You grab your phone and open your interval timer, setting it upright on the nightstand so Joel can see it. “Since you seem to have no patience, I’m going to start with the pinwheel. If you’re about to come at any moment, you need to tell me. Now say ‘yes, goddess’ and thank me.”

Joel’s bound hands clench into fists, eyes glazing over as your finger hovers over the start button. “Yes, my goddess. Thank you.”

You tap the screen, your matte black manicured fingernail clicking against the screen protector and then bring the pinwheel to the smooth skin of the inside of his forearm, running it to his elbow slowly. Goosebumps spread along his skin, it amazes you to see the response from this side. A simple act, that’s tender and trusting. You could cause him pain with just the simple flick or flex of the wrist, and he knows that. As his eyes close and a steady hum vibrates in his chest, you smile at your beautiful partner. He’s so handsome. So soft. So yours.

The trail of your pinwheel continues down his bicep and onto his strong chest. You roll just below his collarbone to the other shoulder. As a quiet beep of the timer goes off. Another minute starts counting down automatically and you drop the pinwheel on his chest before grabbing his already rock hard cock in your hand. Stroking him up and down gently.

“Fuck, goddess. Fuck,” he’s already breathing heavily, eyes squeezed tightly. You squeeze tighter, stroking all the way up, milking a bead of pre cum from the tip. You can’t fight the urge, lapping up the cum with the tip of your warm tongue. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.”

You can tell he’s already on the edge, which is exactly where you want him. You suck the needy red tip of his cock into your mouth and flatten your tongue, circling along the sensitive ridge along the bottom. He lets out a growling moan which quickly turns into a whine of protest as the timer beeps. “No. Please.”

“Shhh,” you hush him gently as you roll over his chest with the wheel, adding a bit more pressure this time. Trailing across his strong pecs, the tanned skin left dimpled behind the spokes of the pinwheel. “You look so beautiful right now, Joel Miller. Lying here so still for me. Such a good boy.”

A little smile crosses Joel’s face at your praise. The love between the two of you seems to fill the air, making the room feel small and shut off from the rest of the world. You trail the wheel down his sternum and then diagonally towards one hip. “Spread your legs for me, baby.”

His cock is so hard, swaying a little with the movement of his legs. He gasps as the sharp spokes trace down the soft crease between his leg and groin, following the inside of his thighs. Praise leaves your lips as you worship your man.

So handsome….Being so good for me….Letting me play with you…I want to worship you the way you do me.

The moment the timer goes off you don’t waste any time, forcing his dick down your throat until you gag. You hold there, breathing through your nose.

“Oh fuck, that’s gonna -“ his voice is thick with need. “Fuck fuck fuck. Please, goddess. I’m. Oh please. I’m gonna….”

You pull off him quickly and he cries out in protest. “No. No. Hnnng. No,” you’ve never heard him whine like this and you swear the power you’re currently holding over him could make you come right now.

“What do you say, baby?”

A thin sheen of sweat starts to break out across his body. “T-thank you. My, fuck, my goddess.”

The timer goes off again, “One more time of each, then we’ll move on to something else.”

You go all out this time. Short rolls of the wheel, using lots of pressure, along the most sensitive spots. Bottom of his foot, the inside of his thigh, the thick pubic hair at the base of his cock, his inner bicep. Each roll sends sharp jolts through his body, and he moans, groans or gasps with each one. His cock twitches as the pain settles into warm, sparkling pleasure.

By the time the minute is almost over Joel’s face is furrowed with a mix of pleasure, pain and anticipation. His curls have grown out a little and one sticks to his forehead.

The timer beeps and you repeat your previous actions. Forcing his thick, hard cock down your throat, saliva pooling in your cheeks and landing on this pelvis as you fight from gagging.

“Goddess. Oh fuck. Please let me!”

You start to bob up and down his slick cock, sliding him in and out of your mouth from base to tip, a hand coming to fondle and massage his heavy balls. He lets out a satisfied moan as you slow your mouth, swirling and twirling your tongue along his shaft and head.

“You taste so good, baby boy,” you moan before slowly sliding him all the way to the back of your throat. You moan as he hits the back, and he tenses up and squirms.

“No. I’m gonna cum. Please.”

You release him with a pop and watch his dick turn an angry shade of red. It matches the blush that’s creeping his neck from his chest.

“Fuck you,” he growls and pulls at the restraints.

You raise an eyebrow, “You’re pathetic. Swearing and crying after only a few minutes. Roll over.”

“No. No. I’m sorry.”

You grab a fist full of hair and get within a hair from his face. “I said to roll over. Speaking to me like that warrants a punishment.”

He whimpers at the pain in his scalp, mouth open and reaching for yours. Hoping he can break you down with his soft velvety lips. You release his hair and give him a stern look, a look he’s never seen you give and hopes he’s never on the receiving end of again and rolls over.

“On your knees and spread your legs,” you bark as you grab your paddle again. He looks so good with his round little ass in the air, legs spread so you can see his stiff cock and heavy balls. You can’t help yourself, reaching between his legs to massage his balls. His back arches, pushing his ass towards you, and you bite down on one of his cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry,” he moans and mumbles into the pillows.

“Good boy,” you coo, trailing your fingernails along his balls in light, languid movements. Goosebumps break out across his body when you begin running the smooth part of the paddle along the back of his strong thighs and over his tooth indented ass cheek.

You climb in between his legs, keeping yourself far enough away that he can feel your heat but all that’s touching him is the soft leather of your baby pink paddle.

“You don’t like this very much do you, Joel?”

He shakes his head and moans a ‘mm-mmm’ into the pillows.

“Tell me what you want,” you say, laying a small smack across his ass.

“I want to touch you, goddess.” He says through a shaky voice.

You strike his ass harder this time. The thwack filled the room along with his chorus of whines.

“You can do better than that. You and your filthy mouth. Tell me,” You hit him again a bit more softly and then rub the word ‘good boy’ that’s already forming with your hand. “What do you want?”

“I w-want,” he flinches as you remove your hand and then melts as you wrap your hand around his cock and stroke slowly up and down, “thank you…I want to lay you down. Remove that sexy lingerie slowly, oh fuck, that feels good, I want to kiss your body. Taste your skin. Play with your nipples.”

You pick up the pace of your hand and his legs start to shake underneath him. “Keep talking, baby.”

“Please don’t stop. Fuck. Yes. I-I wanna taste your beautiful pink pussy. Feel the soft folds with my tongue.”

The paddle meets his cheek again as you stroke him and he lets out a high pitched whine that neither of you knew he was capable of before he says. “Shit. Again. Please. Do that again.”

You’re in charge here, but you do as he asks. Two quick, hard snaps of the paddle before you drop your body to lick along the bottom of his cock.

“I’m gonna come,” he says in a quick and scared tone. You pull away as his cock gets redder, right on the edge. It almost looks painful. But all the times he’s made you cry from his edging, it only feels fair. “Oh god. Please.”

You move up the bed, reaching cuffs that are binding his wrists to the bed frame. Undoing the restraints you say, “I’m trusting you to stay submissive with these off, ok?”

“I’ll do anything,” he says in a weak voice.

“Lay on your back,” you whisper after undoing him. When you see his face, he looks completely wrecked and frustrated. Tears line his eyes, his breathing is ragged and quick. You smirk at him, “What else do you want to do?”

“I want to eat you until you gush all over my face,” you drop your bra to the ground and you can see him almost pushing himself into the mattress to stop from grabbing you. “And, fill you with my fingers. See you break out in sweat as you come over and over again.”

You slide your panties down your legs, you’re so wet that Joel can see them soaked through in the middle. “Fuck, goddess. You’re so wet.”

“Do you want to taste it?” You ask, dragging a finger through your slit and holding it up to him.

He fists the sheet, “Yes. Please.”

You slip your finger between your lips to suck off your arousal. Your eyes flutter closed and you moan at your flavour. Joel groans as you straddle his chest backwards, slipping your legs under his arms, sliding back so he has a view of your needy, glistening pussy.

You sit up slightly and look over your shoulder at his face. He licks his lips, swallowing hard, practically salivating over the sight of you. “What will you give me if I reward you with my pussy?”

“Anything, baby. Please. I need to taste you. Feel you. Please.” You’ve never heard him beg like this before, the desperation and want in his voice causes the walls of your pussy to clench around nothing. It’s an oddly powerful feeling of being wanted so badly that he’s almost brought to tears.

“Prove to me that you can be a good boy,” you say, voice steady and commanding. “Keep your hands to yourself, and maybe I’ll reward you.”

His brow furrows in, frustration with a hint of admiration crossing his face before you turn back, taking his hard cock in your hand and stroking gently from the base to the tip. Joel’s hands fist the sheets to stop himself from touching you, your pussy rests on his hard chest, ass in the air as you tease him.

“Goddess,” he whimpers. “Fuck. Please.”

“Be good,” you tut, your tongue teasing the swollen red head lightly.

“Please!” He huffs, slamming his eyes shut and trying to slow his breathing.

This is torture. He somehow hates and loves this. He hates that he’s being denied the orgasm that’s teetering on the edge. Hates that he’s broken out in a sheen of sweat. Hates that it feels so good that it hurts. But fuck does he love seeing how confident and proud you look. And he loves that he can see how wet the control is making you.

He’s lost in his thoughts for a moment, fighting the urge to grab you, flip you under him and spank you for teasing him; which he very easily could do. Instead, he takes a few breaths as you suck on the lip of his dick like a lolly pop. He groans, chest vibrating against your pussy and you instinctively start grinding his chest.

Joel’s eyes pop open to watch you grind his sternum. You swirl your tongue around the head of cock a few times and everything becomes too much for him. You surround him with yourself and your sex. All he can see is your tight asshole and shiny wet pussy. All he can feel is your soft skin along his abdomen and your warm wet tongue teasing him. All he can hear is your tiny little moans and gasps of pleasure and the occasional squelching of your mouth along his dick.

“Baby, fuuuuck. I’m -“ Before he can come you remove your hand and lips from his cock. It twitches as a little bit of come leaks from the top. “Goddess. Please. Please!”

You ignore his cries, grinding harder into his chest. “Mmmm, Joel. You feel so good.”

“Please. I can’t, I need it. Please,” he continues his weak begging.

You glance over your shoulder, seeing him almost on the edge of tears. He’s so frustrated, cheeks turning pink, more sweat forming along his forehead.

“Spit,” you say darkly, raising one eyebrow.

“W-what?” He sputters, eyes locking with yours.

“Spit on my pussy, get it nice and wet so I can come on your chest.” Joel’s eyes dart to your pussy and then back to you before he smiles at you.

“You have no idea how fucking hot you are right now,” he squeezes his cheeks together, gathering saliva. “You sure about this, Little Dove?”

The hand resting on the inside of his tight swats him hard and he lets out a deep painful groan. “Don’t fucking call me that. Spit, Miller.”

You watch as his head lifts from the bed, inching as close as he can to your pussy. You raise slightly as he spits, the warm saliva hitting your folds and his chest. You waste no time, spreading yourself open with your fingers and sitting back down on Joel’s chest. You don’t touch his cock as you ride him.

“Talk to me,” you moan, alternating your hips from a forward and backward rocking motion into little circles.

“You look so beautiful, goddess,” he says deeply, chest rumbling with every word. “So sexy as you use me. Take what you want. What you need. So fuckin proud of you, baby girl.”

A fresh slick of arousal coats his chest, you’re so close. You drop your head to rest on the crevice of his thigh. “Don’t stop,” you moan, slowing your hips but pushing down harder.

“You like when I talk? Can you feel it vibrating on your perfect little clit. You’re so wet, so beautiful,” you feel his spit again and you whine out. Pain pulses through Joel’s fingers with how tightly he’s gripping the bed sheets. Fighting against every urge and instinct to grab you and touch you. “Fuck, goddess. I want you. You are so perfect. So beautiful. So good.”

“I’m gonna come,” you moan, burying your face against his pelvis.

“Show me, goddess. Show me what I do to you,” he says roughly. He could come just from watching you as the movement of your hips starts to falter. He swears he stops breathing as his eyes focus on your cunt fluttering and clenching in front of him. The soft, baby pink folds quiver as your slick leaks from the tight hole he loves so much. You cry out, a chain of swears, moans and his name leaving your lips. His cock is aching for attention, saliva pooling in his mouth at the thought of tasting you, licking up your honey and feasting on his favourite meal. He’s made you cum countless times, felt your pussy strangle his fingers and milk his cock, but he’s never watched it from this angle, it’s intoxicating, euphoric, a whole new feeling of nirvana that he didn't know existed. “Fuuuuck, so gorgeous, baby.”

You slump down onto Joel. Weak and satisfied, as you catch your breath and try to stop your legs from trembling.

After a few minutes of silence, Joel’s soft whispering voice fills the air, “Goddess? Please let me touch you now so I can care for you.”

You open your eyes, his cock is still hard and an angry shade of red in front of you. “You were so good for me, baby boy,” you say softly, placing light and lingering kisses along the top of his thigh and hip bone.

“Let me keep being good. Let me care for you. Make love to you. Worship your body from head to toe. Please, goddess.”

“Don’t you dare move,” you say roughly. All the things he’s saying sound wonderful, and you’ll let him do all those things eventually, but you never get to hear him beg like this and you’re not going to give in so quickly. He said to do your worst after all.

You adjust yourself to be sitting up slightly and cup his heavy balls in one hand. He hisses at the contact, you know exactly how it feels to not be able to see what the next move is and you’re sure Joel’s eyes are slammed shut, trying to predict, but not being able to anticipate your next move.

You let a trail of warm saliva fall from your mouth, letting it land on the tip of cock. “Please,” he whines behind you.

“Shhh, you’re ok,” you coo, lowering your face to his dick, your tongue trailing a light circle around the sensitive ridge of the head. You revel in the pathetic little gasps he makes as you swirl around him again and again.

“Baby boy,” you wrap your free hand around the base of his cock, “I’m going to suck your perfect dick now, but you need to tell me when you’re about to come. I’m not done playing with you yet.”

“Fuck - Jesus, goddess. I don’t know if I can do this,” he huffs.

You release his balls and slap the inside of his thigh again. He hisses as the red hot pain settles on the meat of his muscular thigh. “You will. Or I’ll get the paddle again.”

The power has definitely gone to your head. You love it when Joel is commanding and dominating, but it’s intoxicating having him all supple and yours to do whatever you want with.

“Sorry, goddess. Sorry,” his thick cock leaps as you grab his balls again. Without warning you take him all the way in your mouth, the tip pressing against the back of your throat. You relax your jaw and throat, breathing through your nose and just hold there, warming him with just your mouth.

He turns into an absolutely writhing, whining mess within seconds. “I need to touch you. Please. Fuckfuckfuck that’s so good. Please. Let me touch you.”

You choke out an ‘uh uh’, and the vibrations of your throat have him tense up beneath you. “Oh god. Goddess. Fuuuuck. Please move. Please suck me.”

You slurp up his dick and release the tip with a lewd, wet pop. “Joel Miller,” you say mockingly, “I never would have taken you for such a whiner when the tables are turned.”

“Just let me touch you and then I’ll be quiet. Please.”

You peek over your shoulder at him, one eyebrow raised teasingly, “I could just gag you.”

Joel’s eyes widen and he audibly swallows. “No, no, please. I’m sorry. I’ll try to stop.”

You spin back to face his cock and say, “That’s my good boy,” before sliding him to the back of your throat again.

A mixture of your drool and his pre come starts to gather on the coarse hairs along the base of him, you use the wetness to lubricate his balls as you fondle and cradle them. His breathing is quick and uneven, you can tell he’s fighting his body’s natural urge to come and his new found need to whine.

You pull off of him with a gag and a cough, you play it up a little since you know how much he likes to hear you gag when he’s in charge. He stays true to his word and he’s quiet, just a small moan leaving his throat before you start to suckle on the tip of his swollen cock. You lap up the salty pre cum, swallowing him down, he really is your favourite taste.

“Mmm, taste so good baby boy,” you hum between licks. As Joel relaxes underneath you you have a very devious idea. You keep up the languid strokes of your tongue over his cock, waiting for him to tell you he’s going to come so you can stop. You suck him further into your mouth and almost immediately as your lips close around him he jerks.

“Fuck. I’m gonna come. I’m sorry,” you pull back quickly and he grunts.

“Not yet baby,” you whisper as you climb off him. Spinning to face him and sitting on your heels you say, “Remember that tiny vibrating plug we used to use when we first started experimenting with anal? Do you think you could take that?”

Joel’s eyes squint as if to test if you’re joking or not. When your facial expression doesn’t falter he says, “Oh, you’re serious?”

“You can say no, Joel.” You mumble.

“No. Well yes. I mean, I’m not saying no,” he stays lying about how you’ve told him, eyes searching yours. “Let me see it again.”

You jump excitedly off the bed and pull the small pink plug out from the bedside table, along with the cleaning wipes and the lube. You turn back to see your perfect man led on his back, his cock still stiff as nails and glistening with your saliva. You fight that soft, submissive side of yourself that feels bad for leaving him like that.

“Lemme see it, gorgeous girl,” he says, looking over at you with hooded eyes like he’s drunk off your mouth. You hold it up for him, it’s not much bigger than his thumb. “Ok, goddess. For you, I’ll do it. Just….use lots of lube.”

You smile at him and laugh softly, “Of course, baby boy. I only want to make you feel good. So here’s the plan. Come stand here and bend over the bed. I’ll slowly work this in, once it’s in I’m going to turn it on low. Then you’ll sit, leaning against the headboard and I’ll ride that big gorgeous cock until we both cum. Deal?”

Joel has never heard you be so dominant and direct with what you want. It’s usually him bossing you around, he’s overcome with pride listening to his sweet Little Dove demand something just for her once. “I love you so much, baby.” He coos as he slips off the bed and bends over in front of you.

You wipe the toy clean then flick the cap of the lube open, the clicking of the plastic cap that changed your life is about to change Joel’s. The cool slippery liquid drizzles down his ass, he jolts at the coolness, goosebumps breaking out over his back and firm cheeks. “Sorry, baby,” you whisper, gathering the lube on your fingers and swirling it around his asshole. You feel it quiver at your touch and Joel takes a steadying breath.

“Nice and slow,” you soothe, teasing him with more pressure. Joel's broad body relaxes into the mattress. “Good boy. Just relax. Play with yourself for me. I’m going to switch to the plug now, just to get it nice and slippery.”

Joel snakes his hand between his body and the mattress, as he wraps his fist around his cock you circle the toy along his slippery, puckered hole. You watch it quiver and relax under your touch so you apply a bit more pressure the tip of it disappears inside of him. A euphoric moan tumbles past Joel’s lips.

“Oh god goddess, more, please.” He mumbles.

“Ok, baby,” you whisper, your free hand lightly tracing up and down his spine. You push the plug in more, Joel’s body jolts and he cries out. “Pleasure or pain, Joel?”

His breathing shakes as he moans, “Pleasure. Oh fuck. It’s so good, baby. Fuuuuck.”

One person shouldn’t hold this much power over a man who could probably kill someone with his bare hands if provoked. You never in a thousand years thought would go for this, and never in a million years thought he would love it this much.

“More, more,” he hiccups into the sheets.

You push the toy deeper, “Good boy. Almost all the way in.” Your hand caresses over the smooth globe of his ass. “Doin’ so well, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

With a final little push of your thumb, the toy slips all the way in. “Good job,” you praise, kissing at his lower back. His body goes completely slack below you. “How are you feeling?”

Joel moans into the mattress. “Good. It’s so much pressure. But good pressure. Fuck, I should have let you be in charge sooner.”

You stand, then drag your nails up the back of his thighs and up and over his ass as you say. “That’s my sweet baby boy, now get your perfect little ass back on the bed so I can fuck you.”

He gingerly crawls up onto the bed, you watch him carefully, a thin layer of sweat coats his forehead and chest. You prop some pillows against the headboard. He locks eyes with you as he sits, whimpering at the pressure of his body weight on the plug.

You grab the small remote in your hand and then straddle Joel’s wide thighs, your chest pressed against his. His cock is so hard between your bodies, the vein that travels underneath it is pulsing. You wrap your dainty hand around the base.

“Spit, Joel,” you command.

He doesn’t hesitate, spitting down the tip of his cock, it beads and rolls down the sides, and you work your hand up and down him slowly, spreading the wetness. “Again, baby.”

He obeys, his breathing ragged and uneven as you spread the saliva again. “Now that your perfect cock is all sloppy I’m going to bury you inside of me. Then I’m going to push this little button,” you hold the remote out in front of him, “And you’re not gonna cum until I say. Right?”

“Yes, oh god, y-yes goddess,” his head falls back to rest on the headboard, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

You lift, using your hand to guide him to your entrance. You slowly sink onto his length, gasping at the familiar sting of the stretch as he fills you. Joel lets out a content and whispered, “fuuuuuuck.”

“Feels s’good when you’re inside me,” you mumble into his neck. “I’m gonna turn it on now, Joel. Are you ready?”

“Yes. I’m ready,” he wraps his arms around you tightly, you’re not sure if it’s fueled by pleasure or the anticipation of what’s to come, but when you push the tiny button he squeezes tighter, his entire body quivering underneath you. “Oh god. Baby, I c-can’t, fuck.”

You pull back to look at his face. “Do you need me to stop?” Your voice is soft and full of concern.

“No, god no. I can’t last. I, fuck, please start moving. Please.” He buries his face in your neck as he whimpers, fully confirming your earlier thoughts. No one should have this much power in their hands. “Please, goddess.”

You start rocking your hips back and forth, he’s so fucking sexy like this and even though you’ve already cum once, you’re painfully turned on seeing your man turn into a puddle at your touches. “That’s it, big boy. Just hold on a little bit longer for me. Fuck, I’m so close.”

His dull fingernails dig into your sides as he tries to hold off. Every movement you make pulls a groan from him. “Call me a good girl, please Joel. I’m gonna cum.”

His voice is thick and syrupy as he says, “Please, my goddess. Cum for me. Be my good girl. Let me feel you milk me.”

“Hnnnng - yes!” You cry out as heat spreads through every nerve ending of your body. “Cum with me.”

Joel’s hands guide your hips, helping you fuck into him harder. His cock grows larger inside you. “Kiss me,” he whines.

You press your lips to him as the heat snaps and your orgasms wash over you. You are a mess of tongue and teeth as his dick twitches inside of you, painting your walls with warm ropes of cum. You can feel it filling you, feel the walls of your pussy clenching hard around him. Everything in the room except Joel fades away. You and Joel, always.

Your orgasm crests and you peel away from Joel’s lips to watch him. He’s completely blissed out. Eyes hooded and glazed over, sweaty glistening across his whole body. As you come down you slow your hips, his hands take over, rocking you back and forth.

“Good boy,” you hum. “Just take what you need.” You can feel his cum leaking out from you, landing in the coarse hairs at the base of his cock.

“I’m - I think I’m gonna,” his hands grip you so tightly that you’re sure you’ll have the same bruises you always seem to get when you and Joel fuck.

You card your hands through his hair, pushing back his sweaty curls. “I’m here, baby. Just relax. Let it happen. You’re ok.”

His head falls back, eyes fluttering closed as he cums again with a deep, satisfied groan.

“Turn it off. Allan key. Shit, baby.”

You quickly shut the vibrating plug off and wrap your arms around Joel’s neck, pulling him in closely. You shush him softly as he tries to catch his breath, his softening cock still buried inside of you.

“Are you okay, baby?” You ask after a few silent moments.

His breathing begins to steady. “Kiss me.”

You pull back and press your lips to his. He deepens the kiss, slow languid strokes of his tongue against yours. You feel content to just sit here straddling Joel, lazily making out forever. You let him take the lead, giving him whatever he needs after an intense night. It feels like you’ve been kissing for hours when Joel pulls back.

“Thank you,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours.

“Anything for you, my love,” you smile at him. “Do you need help getting that out?”

His chocolate brown eyes wash over you. “No, maybe. Fuck, I don’t know. What do I do?”

You can’t help but giggle at his slight panic. “Just kinda push into it and pull a little bit. That’s all I do. But I’ll have to get off of you first.”

His nose drags against yours, “Not yet.”

Joel kisses your jaw and then your shoulder before curling into your neck again. You trail your fingers along his upper back, lazy uneven patterns and swirls. He hums contentedly into your skin. “I don’t think I can go back to having sex without this thing,” he admits sheepishly.

“That good?”

“Yes, Little Dove,” murmurs, “You are that good.”

You smile to yourself before he pulls back and you two work in tandem to slide off his soft cock, cum drips from your pussy, landing on him and the bed as you lay on the bed beside him. He stands on shaky legs and goes to the bathroom. You hear a pained grunt and then water running. He comes back with the cleaned toy in one hand, tucking it back in the bedside drawer, and a towel in the other hand that he uses to clean you off.

“I should be the one taking care of you, Joel.”

He laughs quietly, “I can’t help it, Little Dove. You looked so gorgeous tonight. I’m so proud of you for how talkative and dominant you were.”

You flip the sheets open and you both crawl in, his large body wrapping around yours, both of you relaxing into one another at the same time. Breathing syncing into a comfortable pace. These are the moments that you live for. As fun as exploring your kinky side is together, there’s an anchor between you and him that keeps you tied together.

“I love you,” he mumbles into your hairline, kissing you softly.

You press your face deeper into his chest, surrounding yourself with his scent. “I love you, too.”