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joelsdagger · 7 hours

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MIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

this was absolutely beautiful. i love them and their girls AND CLARA OH MY HEART she is a brave little bug. my goodness this was such a delight and so lovely to read, it warmed my heart. i'll read anything and everything you share with us mimi, it's always so so special.

lastly these were my favorite parts;

His hand instinctively slides over your tummy, his favourite place: chest pressed to your bare back, wedding band against your warm skin as he holds you.

w-wedding band......oh my god.

He plays with your wedding band absentmindedly as you lounge against his legs, digesting his words. “One day at a time, mama. You’re doin’ just fine,” Joel murmurs, and you look through your lashes at him, chewing your lip. He gazes at you imploringly, and you shrug, start to laugh. “If you say so.” “I know so.”

joel miller is a man who always praises his girl and it will never fail to make me weak.

thank you dearest, sweetest mimi!!!!!!

you’re gonna go far (joel miller x f!reader)

we ain’t angry at you, love, we’ll be waiting for you, love. and we’ll all be here forever. 📻✨

summary: your daughter needs her father — he’s never let her down before. and hell, if he’s about to start now.

warnings: age gap (sixteen years), no outbreak, fluff, husband!joel, insecure parenting, smutty happenings, cursing, alcohol, timelines all over the place, one (1) tiny mention of daddy kink, allusions to unprotected piv, mentions of babymaking & pregnancy, 18+ mdni.

notes: this has been languishing in my drafts for months now, so here it is! nothing special, just proclaiming my love for joel miller the father <3 i also promised a plushy-sized surprise for @hellishjoel all that time ago, and here it is! sorry it took so long 🥹

thank you, as ever, to my @macfrog for your eyes on this. i couldn’t do this without you. also, to @frannyzooey, who helped me navigate the trickier parts to get right! i love you.

“Joel.”

He groans, stretches out languidly in his sleep.

His hand instinctively slides over your tummy, his favourite place: chest pressed to your bare back, wedding band against your warm skin as he holds you.

It can’t be time for him to get up yet.

“Joel,” comes your voice again, more insistent this time. He feels you reach back and tap his hip, sheets pooled round your bodies.

“Phone.”

Joel blinks one eye open wearily. His iPhone flashes obnoxiously from the nightstand, rattling the smooth wood as it vibrates.

11:45pm.

A number he doesn’t recognise flits across the screen. A slight frisson of anxiety settles in his stomach, jolting him awake.

“Hello?” Joel answers cautiously, settling back into the pillows with the phone crooked under his ear.

“Dad?” comes a timid voice, whispering from the other end.

“Clara? Are you okay, honey?”

At the sound of your daughter’s name, you turn to face him, eyebrow raised uneasily.

“‘m fine,” she admits, and Joel waits for the inevitable whimper that he knows will come from his seven-year-old. He can picture her bottom lip trembling, and his heart wants to break for her.

“Baby?” he pushes, certain he knows what’s coming.

“Can you come get me, please? From Madison’s? I can’t sleep, daddy. I tried, but—” she sniffles, and Joel soothes her.

“Ssssh, baby. It’s okay, you don’t need to explain it to me. Is Madison’s mom there?” he asks, and listens for Clara’s quiet uhuh.

“Pass me over to her, honey. Jus’ wanna confirm everything, that’s all. I’ll be twenty minutes,” he assures her.

“She okay?” you ask when he’s done with the call, flicking the beside lamp on, both of you wincing at the sudden intrusion.

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep. Wants me to go ‘n get her,” Joel chuckles, hand squeezing your calf fondly.

He watches your features draw tight with anxiety, the way they do so often when it comes to the daughter you share.

“You think you could try to see if she’s alright? Y’know, with school and everything?”

Joel’s eyebrow raises, prompting you to continue.

“I just worry she’s not settled. I don’t want her being bullied, but I don’t want to be overbearing—”you start, pulling at your bottom lip with your teeth.

“Hey, hey,” Joel hushes, moving to hold your face in his hands. “Sweetheart, I’ll talk to her. I promise,” he adds, before kissing you gently.

“I mean, I don’t think she’ll tell me anythin’, but I’ll give it a shot anyway.”

He presses his lips to your forehead, thumb stroking across your skin.

“You’re forgetting she’s a daddy’s girl, Joel,” you tease quietly, pushing at his chest.

“Makes two of ya, then,” he smirks, eyebrow raised.

You roll your eyes; slide back beneath the covers, breathing a little easier. He knows you’re anxious about Clara, you both are.

But it’s not his first rodeo.

Nineteen years separate his daughters, but Joel relishes fatherhood and all the trials and tribulations that come with it, knows he will for the rest of his life. Lessons learned and repeated, a cycle he’s grateful for. Both kids so different, but their hearts the same.

“Drive careful,” you mumble, after he’s pulled on sweatpants and an old shirt.

“Always.”

He switches the lamp off again and bends to kiss the tip of your nose, ignoring the creaky protests of his knees. The house is quiet as he moves through it soundlessly; photos of the women in his life grinning at him as he heads downstairs.

Sarah: freshly graduated from college, working as an accountant in Houston. The earliest years of being her dad were the hardest; getting to know her, raise her, round her out. But holy shit, was it worth it; even through the hardship of doing it alone.

His beautiful baby girl.

He thinks of her, now, making a note to call her tomorrow. Sarah still has a room here, Clara gazing at her with starstruck eyes whenever she visits.

Joel rummages through the chipped trinket dish by the front door, searching for his truck keys. Typical family detritus litters the space around him; individual declarations that show love is well-known and nurtured in those four walls.

His work boots lie abandoned in a heap, your sneakers and sandals stored away neatly, Clara’s favourite plushie left behind on the tabletop: Grogu’s big eyes watching him make ready to leave.

Joel sticks the toy carefully in the crook of his arm, sliding his own battered sneakers on as he scrubs his free hand over his face. Cicadas sing as he makes his way to his truck, moonlight casting silver shadows over the front lawn as he deposits his green friend in the front seat beside him.

“Alright, pal,” Joel yawns, turning on the ignition. “It’s time to go.”

There’s no traffic, and Joel finds himself thinking of a time he’d been here before: on the same stretch of road, years earlier. Sarah had called him from a friend’s house; said that some of the girls had teased her for being a tomboy with unwashed ketchup stains on her shirt, and Joel remembers the burning shame sticking to him like slime.

Trying to make it as the sole parent, and failing at it.

Working all the hours he could, roping in a young Tommy to take care of Sarah when he couldn’t, going without so she could have more. When he’d picked Sarah up that night, though, she wasn’t upset. She just wanted her dad, asking if Joel could stop for pizza for them to share on the way home.

The memory makes him smile. Sarah’s toothy grin told him everything he needed to know, soothed away all his doubts.

He was enough.

Joel grew confident in his abilities, watching his baby stretch up and out into the arms of happiness and security in herself, chasing her college dreams.

Then, you came along.

Joel had been feeling the stretch of the long days without his daughter to fill in the gaps, his not-so-little brother moved out to his own apartment. He felt unsure about the stage in his life he was settling into, had been pondering it one day when he got home with a smaller grocery haul than he was used to.

He hadn’t noticed the moving truck next door, but he’d noticed you.

The Adler’s eldest niece, he found out later. Denim cut-offs and a snug baby tee, smile bright enough to light up the neighbourhood. You were fresh from a bad breakup, younger than him by sixteen years. You’d moved in with Danny and Connie for a new start, looking for some stability in your life.

It happened faster and more perfectly than he ever could’ve predicted.

Joel was asked to remodel the kitchen, and he couldn’t turn the Adlers down. You made him lunch, hung around him whilst he worked; asked questions that would’ve been irritating, had it been anyone else.

You told him you’d never really settled; not at home, not at college. Always searching for something else, something more. Never feeling like you fitted in.

“Seems like you’re doin’ a fine job of that here, sweetheart.”

That smile: so captivating, entrancing, striking Joel dumb every time he saw it.

“You think so?”

“Neighbourhood wouldn’t be the same without ya.”

He loved the way you looked down at your feet, like you couldn’t believe what he was saying. He wanted you to know: wanted to show you, push you down into his sheets and make you certain of it.

You’re so fucking sweet.

He caved one day; too tempted by the soft curves of your body and the lingering glances he felt from you whilst he worked.

He asked you on a date, feeling like a fool, fumbling his words and carding a nervous hand through his hair. His earlier bravado deserted him - surely he was being foolish. A beautiful, young butterfly like you?

Joel didn’t have much to offer, he knew that: a bad back from too many years on site, not a lot of spare cash, weekends spent woodworking, a slow, steady way of living.

But he had to try, and to his delight: you said yes.

You were waiting for him that night on his doorstep, pretty sundress floating round your thighs. The bodice lifted your breasts towards him, smooth skin dewy along your collarbones, eyes bright with excitement.

Goddamn. An absolute dream.

Joel knew he was late — fuckin’ Tommy, getting the wrong size for the headers — but you laughed his apology off, said you’d wait for him to take a shower.

He offered you a beer in his kitchen, joined you for one after he’d towelled off. One beer turned into two, into three, into a slow kiss that became something deeper: wandering hands, breathy groans, forgotten insecurities.

“We’ll miss our reservation,” Joel gasped, when your lips left his to take a breath.

“I don’t give a fuck,” you giggled, eagerly pulling his shirt over his head, sliding your panties down your calves. Hearing you curse spurred him on, filth falling from that sweet mouth.

Joel wanted to hear it again, pull it from you as many times as you’d let him.

You didn’t even make it upstairs.

You both collapsed naked on his couch, and Joel held you there till dawn broke, the skies pink and rosy.

You’d hardly been apart since.

He was insatiable for you.

You kept him laughing, made him feel younger. Joel wanted to be with you, around you, inside you, as much as he could. He’d never have called it a missing piece as such, but he felt whole. For the first time in his life.

You’d done that for him, without even trying.

Joel Miller was only human. He had a feeling you, however, were not.

You were married after two years. Joel watched you love Sarah like she was your own, despite you not even being a decade older. The two of you were thick as thieves whenever she was home, and Joel remembers the tears of joy when you told her she had a baby sister on the way.

Joel’s younger daughter was the light of his life: unexpected, but loved unconditionally. Everyone who knew Clara doted on her - she had a face you couldn’t help but fall in love with.

Yours.

Joel knocks on the door as quietly as he can.

Madison’s mom is endlessly kind, waving away Joel’s sympathetic smile. His daughter’s shoulders droop as they head back to the truck, holding Grogu close as she leans her head against the window.

“Y’okay, bug?”

Clara sighs, scrunches her brow in frustration. The streetlights illuminate tear tracks on her cheeks, Joel’s heart shattering a little to see it.

He knows he can’t keep her this close forever.

He remembers when Sarah stopped needing him for grazed knees and scary dreams; came to him to help assemble her bed frame instead, to check the tyre pressure on her car.

He feels grateful to be able to do it all again, even if it hurts him to see his daughter like this.

“They’ll all think I’m a baby,” Clara confesses, screwing her fist up to wipe her eyes. Joel tuts quietly as he spins the wheel, wishing he could gather her in his arms.

“What makes you say that?”

Another drawn-out sigh, wobbling bottom lip, downcast gaze.

“‘Cuz I wanted to come home,” she sniffs. “I - I missed you, and mommy. The sheets smelled all different, and I didn’t like it.”

Joel reaches out a hand, his daughter wrapping her smaller one in his. He squeezes tight, feels his own heartbeat thrumming right back at him.

“But that’s okay, baby. Y’know what? I actually think you’ve been really brave.”

Clara plays with Grogu’s ears, making a dissatisfied noise that tells Joel she doesn’t believe him. At all.

Tough gig, kids.

“Takin’ yourself out of a situation - or place - where you don’t feel comfy or happy is very brave, sweetheart. You might not think so, but grown-ups do it all the time.”

She releases his hand, turns to look at him. Joel flashes her a smile, happy to see one in return. Not quite her trademark toothy grin, but he’ll take what he can get.

“You remember Sarah’s boyfriend, Jake? How we don’t see him now? That’s because he wasn’t makin’ your sister happy anymore,” he tells her, Clara silent as she digests his words.

“She was brave and made a decision, one that sure as hell wasn’t easy. We all liked him, right? But Sarah had to do what was best for her, just like you did tonight,” he tickles her under the chin, hears her giggling.

“‘s there anythin’ else, baby? Anything on your mind, like school or your friends?” he prompts gently, and is met with silence, knowing his daughter is thinking it through.

“Can I call Sarah? I want to tell her I’ve been brave. And if she’ll come over and help me finish my Lego,” she adds, crisis averted, face set with fierce determination.

She reminds Joel of you when she does that.

“In the morning, bug, we’ll call her. ‘s gettin’ late now, and we need to get you in bed. Mom’s waitin’ up to give you a hug,” he tells her, pulling round the bend to the cul-de-sac they call home.

Clara nods, yawns gratefully. Joel already knows he’ll be shaken awake before 7am, mobile stolen so Clara can call her big sister. Sarah’s her hero - always has been, always will be.

Nothing makes him happier.

An hour later, and you close the bedroom door behind you. Joel’s in bed with a book, propped up against the pillows, soft lamplight spilling out across the room.

“She okay?”

“Out for the count,” you smile, hanging your robe up on the hook he made. “She told me what you said — that she’s brave, about Sarah. Nothing seems to be bothering her about school, either, from what I can tell.”

“Told ya. She’ll come to you if she needs you, baby. I promise,” Joel smiles. You sit down by his side, reach out to take his hand. He brushes his thumbs across your knuckles, lifts it towards him and kisses your palm.

“I know I’m overreacting. It’s just, you get to know ‘em - or think you have - one day, and by the next week, they’ve changed. Our little person.. Always growing, having new interests, new fears.”

He nods sympathetically.

“Sometimes I feel like I can’t keep up, y’know?”

“I know,” Joel agrees, because he does know, hates to see you doubt yourself.

“It’s not just you. Hell, parenting doesn’t come with a manual. It’s one of the scariest things you can do, and everybody’s wingin’ it.”

He plays with your wedding band absentmindedly as you lounge against his legs, digesting his words.

“One day at a time, mama. You’re doin’ just fine,” Joel murmurs, and you look through your lashes at him, chewing your lip. He gazes at you imploringly, and you shrug, start to laugh.

“If you say so.”

“I know so.”

He opens his arms, beckons you towards him.

“C’mere. I’ll prove it.”

Your eyes roll again, but nevertheless: you slip your panties down your thighs, just like the very first time, and toss them in the hamper, grinning shyly.

He helps you to sit astride him, hands planted firmly on your ass. “I ever tell you you’re the best daddy?” you whisper, bending to press your lips to his. Joel anchors you to him, thumbs rubbing circles across your flesh, inching beneath your nightgown.

You start to rock your hips slowly against his belly and the coarse hair that lives there. Joel feels you on his skin: already so slick and soft for him; groaning as he slides the thin straps of your dress down your arms.

“It’s all teamwork, sweetheart,” he tells you between kisses, welcoming your tongue in his mouth. He squeezes and pinches you softly, fingers eager for any skin he can find, claim as his own. You’re so goddamn responsive to his touch: tugging at his hair, nails drawn across his chest.

“What if I said I wanted another, one day? Another baby?”

Joel stills for a moment, peering up at you. Your chest is heaving; breasts spilling out over the flimsy material, lips bitten, eyes narrow and full of longing. You’re still grinding against him, all worked up - he knows you can feel it, feel what you do to him.

You’re incredible.

Joel flips you over as you squeak in surprise, pulling the dress over and off your head so you’re finally bare beneath him. He searches your face, kisses you softly. He remembers your first pregnancy: how beautiful you were, round with what the two of you created.

“I’d say.. Okay. I’d say, let’s try.”

You wrap your legs round his waist, work to push his boxers off together. Joel pins your hands above you in one of his, teeth scraping in the column of your throat, dragging the scruff on his jaw between your breasts, just the way you like.

He teases you, touches you till you’re ready; breathless and downright impatient for him. Before long, Joel’s sliding into the warm, wet heart of you — his wife, his forever.

#now im gonna go cry myself to sleep #the wedding band mention took me the fuck OUT #i'm yearning so bad again its so joelver for me #noelle's recs

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joelsdagger · 1 day

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Play Stupid Games

Summary - Who woulda thought you could make Joel come by playing with his nipples? NOT ME!! (3.6k words)

Tags - implied age gap as Joel calls reader kiddo, Joel Miller Nipple Worship, almost sub!joel, for like 8 seconds max, sub to softdom!joel, unprotected Piv, nipple orgasm, premature ejaculation, come eating, thigh riding, fingering, Joel talks you through it. A/N - this ended up being something between a drabble and a fic. I don’t know what this is. God spoke to me and I listened.

Thank you thank you thank you @noxturnalpascal for cleaning this mess up, thank you @beefrobeefcal @tightjeansjavi and @joelsgreys for the encouragement I needed to finish this!

Joel’s sheets are scratchy yet soft, his walls are illuminated by the flickering light of his burning candles. Joel’s naked under his blankets, your naked body tangled up with his. Your head rests on his chest and you draw lazy patterns with your fingers on his soft, pillowy tummy as Joel reads Stephen King’s The Shining to you, turning the pages when he asks you to. This is your evening routine with him, and you’ll never tire of it. Sex first, then a shared shower, where Joel washes your hair and you wash his. He dries you off, then you go back to bed to snuggle and read a book together. You giggle at the way he always wears his glasses too far down his nose, and he lightly drags his nails along your scalp. His clean and masculine scent takes over your senses and that low, gravelly tone of his voice as he reads aloud to you usually puts you to sleep in no more than twenty minutes.

“Turn the page for me, hon,” Joel asks.

You’re not so tired tonight. You’re watching Joel’s chest rise and fall, lost in your own world and not really paying attention to his reading. Instead, you’re watching his skin erupt in goosebumps as you trace his chest, toying with his sparse chest hair, lightly teasing his nipples, they’re a dark sort of mauve-brown color. Joel’s breath hitches as they pebble beneath your touch.

He bounces his book lightly on the crown of your head. “You with me?”

“Mhm,” you hum, “Of course.”

“Mm,” Joel mumbles, not convinced. And he’s right to not believe you. You’re grinding against his thigh subtly, but not subtle enough for Joel to not notice. He smirks as you reach between his thighs, first cupping his balls and then playing with his cock, feeling him begin to thicken in your palm. “Ohh,” Joel grins, “That’s why you’re not listening.”

“I’m listening,” you reply, stroking his cock. It’s always such a satisfying feeling, running your thumb along the thickness of his head, feeling him twitch and grow harder.

“Are ya? What’s happening right now?”

“Wendy…”

“Wrong,” he interrupts, “Try again.”

“Jack–”

“Danny,” Joel corrects, “What’s Danny doin’?” You don’t know the answer to that question, of course you don’t. Because you’re too distracted by what’s happening in your hand. “Exactly,” Joel says. He sets his book down on his stomach, the pages split to mark his place. He reaches under the covers and wraps his hand around your wrist, halting your movements. “You wore me out tonight, kiddo. I don’t have it in me to go again.”

It’s true, you did wear Joel out. It had been a few days since you’d last had him, and you were missing him dearly. Joel was gone all day, and you’d watched all three Indiana Jones movies, which didn’t help your case in the least. Fuck it, you might even be ovulating. You’re not exactly keeping track. Whoops.

You practically tackled him when he walked through the door. Dinner was made and the table set, but it remained untouched as you let Joel know just how much you missed him. Scrambling to unbuckle his belt, you walked him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the couch and he sat down. You wasted no time shimmying off your pants and pulling his own halfway down his thighs. He guided you to straddle his lap, his already rock-hard cock held loosely between his fingers.

Usually he’ll tease you a bit, make you beg and ache and cry for it as he drags his tip through your folds, toy with your clit for a moment before notching himself at your entrance. Today, upon realizing the severity of your need for him, he pulled your hips down on his cock, burying himself in you entirely. He let you adjust to him, feel the stretch and the ache of him inside you. No fingers to warm you up, no tongue, he simply gave all of himself to you.

Once adjusted, he began to roll his hips, grunting in your ear as you moaned sweetly in his own. That patch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit, how his thick cock hit all of your sweetest spots with each of his deep, sloppy, and quick thrusts. He was relentless, just how you needed him. As he fucked you, he slid his hands up the softness of your tummy and your rib cage, then cupped your breasts, flicking and twisting your nipples with his fingertips.

Per your wishes, Joel had brought you to the edge and pushed you over it multiple times by the time it was all said and done. You came on his cock once and begged him to let you come once more, and then one more time after that before he finally let himself go. By the time you’d finished, the sun had gone down and dinner had gottencold. It could’ve been hours, and Joel was spent. He could hardly keep his eyes open in the shower, swaying back and forth as he flirted with the idea of falling asleep under the warm water running down his shoulders.

“I’ll do all the work, Joel,” you offer as you squeeze his cock. “I just need you for a second.”

“Charming. You lied to me twice just now,” Joel smirks, turning his head to look down at where your head rests on his shoulder. “Didn’t you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Oh, sure. You just need me for a second, huh? Can I time it?” You bite your cheek to hide your sheepish smile. You see his point, but you weren’t lying, just slightly misrepresenting the truth. “Yeah, and you know what else is a load of bullshit? I’ll do all the work, Joel,” he mocks, putting on his best girl voice and batting his eyelashes.

You’re definitely not lying about that, though. “It’s true,” you argue, “I’ll–”

“Yeah, right. You ain’t done a lick of hard work in your life. You got me in the palm of your hand and you don’t gotta lift a damn finger to get what you want. Do you?”

You’re not answering that. Instead, holding up your pinkie finger, you swear to Joel, “I promise, I’ll do it all.”

Joel eyes you suspiciously before holding up his pinkie finger as well. You link fingers, kiss your thumb as he kisses his own, then smush them together. “S’a deal now, my darlin’.”

Joel first takes off his glasses, then dog-ears the page of his book to mark his place in the story before he sets both down on his nightstand. He raises his hands in the air as if he’s surrendering to you. You pull down the blankets and straddle him, your already wet pussy grinding against his now fully-hardened cock. You smile mischievously, biting your bottom lip as you pin his wrists to the bed on either side of his head. “Goddamn,” he drawls, “Am I nothin’ but a piece of meat to ya?”

“Mhm,” you reply, kissing his cheek and then his lips.

Joel smiles against your lips, “Alright, sweet girl. Show me what you got,” he mumbles. You pull back and Joel waits patiently, his wrists still pinned under your palm as you decide what you’re gonna do to him. You start first by grinding yourself against his member, garnering an amused smile from him as his tip catches against your clit and you moan. “Very nice,” he praises, “Gimme some more.”

Still grinding on his cock, you kiss his lips again, then down his jaw, down his neck, biting and sucking as you do so. “No marks,” he warns, squeezing your ass.

“I know, Joel,” you whisper, continuing your trail of kisses down his chest, down his tummy and back up again. You line yourself up with his cock and sink down on him, experimentally licking a nipple at the same time. Joel shivers. You do it again, this time gently teasing his other nipple with your fingers.

“What are you doin’, kiddo,” Joel murmurs quietly.

“Nothing, Joel.”

“I think you’re lyin’ again. Think you’re causin’ trouble.”

“I’m taking care of you.”

“I don’t, fuck, I don’t know–” you hum against him, sending vibrations through his skin. You’re grinding on him as you do so, rubbing your clit against that patch of hair at the base of his cock, taking in all of him - the feeling of him inside you, how you’re pulsing around him. His smell, his warm and thick body underneath yours. He’s breathing heavily, little whimpers escaping his mouth as he squeezes your ass and your sides, his fingertips digging into your skin so hard it hurts. He seems almost desperate.

“Don’t know what, Joel?”

“I don’t - fuck, ohh god, please, please–” Holy fuck, he’s begging, and you didn’t even know he could do that. You’re not sure what he’s begging for - more, less, go, stop. “Why’re you teasin’ me like this, sweetheart, why’re–”

“I’m not doing anything, Joel,” you smile against his skin. You’re trying it all out now, with one of his nipples you’re using your fingers to twist and tease him, feeling him jolt and tremble with your touch. With your mouth, you’re using your tongue - tracing the outline of his areola, swirling your tongue in a spiral to reach his sensitive bud. And then you switch, using your tongue on the nipple previously occupied by your teasing fingertips.

“Bullshit. You’re—fuuuuuck,” Joel lets out a long groan, his cock twitching inside of you as he squirms underneath you. “I can feel you smirkin’.You’re testin’ my patience. You need, I need, Christ–you’re startin’ something you’re not gonna like finishing.”

He’s warning you that this might be a mistake, but this only fuels your fire. It’s always you who’s squirming and crying and whimpering, begging for god knows what as Joel grins above you, torturing your clit and promising you that it’ll all be okay, that you’re not gonna break.

You’ve got him reduced to a mess, he’s moaning and whimpering, breathing heavily with his eyes squeezed shut, his brows knit together. You can feel in his touch that he’s conflicted, squeezing you tighter yet itching to push you away. His skin is tingling, his balls tightening as you clench around him, still grinding yourself ever so slightly on his pelvis. You’re making a sloppy mess of his chest with your mouth, all spit covered as you circle his nipples with the tip of your tongue, rolling the bud gently and carefully between your teeth. It’s torturously pleasurable when you begin to suck and nip at his nipples and Joel thinks he’s gonna–

“Fuck, Christ, oh my god, oh my god, mmm-ohhhh.”

He’s spilling into you, surprising both you and himself. He comes loudly and desperately, all needy whimpers and cries as he pulses inside you, painting your insides with his warm, sticky spend. Grabbing you and holding you tight, his grip easing as his breaths begin to even and he eventually goes still. You rest on his chest, feeling him leak out of you. When you finally sit up to admire your work, Joel’s got his eyes closed, his cheeks are rosy. A few tears running down his face and when you wipe them away, he opens his eyes.

“You look proud of yourself,” he tells you. His tone is pointed yet quiet, like he’s bashful. “Learned a new trick, huh.”

“I did,” you smile. He’s gone soft inside of you and you get up off of him, but Joel pulls you back down. “Nuh-uh. Where do you think you’re going?”

“Just to the–”

“Sit back down. I ain’t finished with you,” Here it comes. You anticipated Joel getting revenge in some way or another, but you’re not sure how he plans to. Maybe he’ll lay you on your back, lick you until you cry the way you did to him. He might bring you to the edge over and over and over again, yet never push you past it. Or he’ll make you come until your legs twitch and shake uncontrollably, and you’re a sweaty, sobbing mess of overstimulation. He’s done it all before and you know he’s not opposed to doing it again. “You’re gonna hold up your end of the bargain. Do some hard work for once in your life.”

You begin to protest, “I already did.”

“That don’t count. You cheated and found a loophole. You wanted me, so you’re gonna have me,” You’re not sure what he means or what he wants from you. You thought you did already have him. “Get on your knees, kiddo,” Joel says, slapping his bare thigh. When you pause, Joel nudges you and guides you to straddle his thigh. “Like this,” he says.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out,” Joel drawls, “I gave you a hint already.”

He’s placed you on his thigh. He says you wanted him, so you’re gonna have him. But you’ve made him come already, so that means–

“I can’t do that.”

“You started this, you’re comin’ one way or another,” he says. “You’re not getting up until you do it. You’d best get to it.”

His tone is serious, but you’re sure this has to be some sort of game. He watches you, how you furrow your brows in confusion. Joel sits up and adjusts a few pillows behind himself, spreads his legs further apart and holds your ass cheeks in his big, strong hands. “Rock your hips f’me.”

Slowly, you rock your hips on his thigh. You can’t feel much except for the mess you’re making on his leg, your arousal and his spend. It’s all awkward - the clunky and graceless rolling of your hips, the quietness in the room as Joel watches you intently. You shift your thighs, holding on to one of Joel’s hips and one of his shoulders as you rock your hips, trying to feel anything at all. You do - just for a second, maybe. “Keep goin’,” he tells you while drawing lazy patterns on your thigh, but you’re not sure that you can keep going. The expectant look on Joel’s face has you feeling uncomfortable. Not the bad kind of we need to stop this now uncomfortable, but just sort of puzzled. Joel could have tortured you with his teasing and he probably would have gotten a better result. He seems to know this, so he begins to guide your hips again. You’re not sure how he does it, but he finds the perfect angle and he knows this when you moan for him, squeezing his shoulders tight. “Like that,” he instructs.

You do your best to mimic the action, but it’s just not happening. He must’ve been flexing his thigh, or the way he moved your hips is a way that you can’t replicate without help for some reason. Frustrated, you slump down onto his chest. “I can’t do it.”

“You’re gonna have to,” Joel coos.

You shake your head, “No, no. I want–just fuck me. I want you inside me, I can’t come without you inside me.”

“Yeah, I know you want me inside ya. Can’t do nothin’ about that on account of what you did to me, now can I?”

You whine and groan in irritation. “Then I need you to do the w–” you press your lips in a thin line. Oops.

“Work,” Joel adds for you, finishing your sentence. “S’that what I’m hearin’? You need me to do the work?” You nod your head, it’s worth a shot. Maybe. “Not gonna happen, hon. We shook on it.” You pout, whining and groaning again. Joel strokes the skin of your back, “Oh, I know, I know,” he coos, feigning sympathy. “Let this be a lesson to ya then, kiddo. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.”

“Joel,” you protest.

“Joel,” he mocks. “Come on, get up. Get to work.” Joel pushes you back, forcing you to sit back up on his thigh. Generously, he helps you find that movement once more. Where your hips tilt at just the right angle and you can feel the pressure of his thick thigh against your clit. “Right there,” you gasp, holding his hand on your hip. “Nuh-uh,” Joel shakes his head and pulls his arms back, crossing them on his tummy.

It’s okay. You’re gonna figure this out. You brace yourself on Joel’s shoulders as you search for that sweet spot on your own. Within a couple of minutes, you think you find it. You’re alternating between feeling good, better, worse, then to worse, good, and better. At moments it’s great, and then it just…disappears. And at this point, you’re exhausted. It’s been god knows how long since you even found yourself on Joel’s lap in the first place. You groan, resigning yourself to defeat. You’re about to get off of Joel’s thigh when he grabs your bicep. “Aw, come on kiddo. You givin’ up that easy?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, your tone saying all that you’re feeling. Dejection, frustration, disappointment.

Joel shakes his head, “M’not lettin’ ya.”

“Joel–”

“Deep breath in and out for me,” he instructs, and you roll your eyes. He repeats himself, “Deep breath. In. And. Out. Do it now.” And so, not wanting to make this any worse for yourself and just wanting to get it over and done with, you close your eyes. You breathe in deeply, letting your tummy expand with his instruction, then exhale your breath fully. “You need to settle down,” he says as you continue your breaths. “S’it. Nice an’ slow.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “It’s just hard.”

“Know it’s hard. What’d we talk about though, hm? Hard work, right?” you nod your head, “Yeah,” Joel says, “I know. You’re gonna work for it, sweet girl. I’ve been spoilin’ ya.” A few more deep breaths, and Joel speaks again, “M’not gonna do it for you, but I’ll walk you through it if you’d like.”

“Yes,” you beg, your eyes flying open. “Please. Help me.”

“Least you’ve still got your manners,” Joel smiles. He reaches for your knees then, spreading them wide. “Tilt your hips forward, sweetheart, and rock ‘em on me,” he tells you. “What feels good? Back and forth, left and right?”

“Back and forth.”

“Then do it.”

And so you do it, just like you’ve been doing this whole goddamn time. Joel watches in your face that you’re not quite there yet, but he encourages you anyway. “That’s it, you’re gettin’ it. Tilt down a bit.”

You’re rocking your hips on his thigh, grinding against him, and with his advice it finally, finally feels good. “Fuck,” you moan.

“Again,” he instructs, “Keep goin’.”

You grind on him, this time with more intent. Faster and harder, having found that sweet feeling that’s beginning to build in the pit of your stomach, you savor it.

“Good girl,” Joel praises. And then as if to reward you for your hard work, Joel reaches between your thighs and finds your clit with his middle and ring fingers, giving you something extra to enjoy. He’s circling your clit as you move your hips, and when that feeling in your stomach begins to build, you ride him more intensely, chasing after that high you so desperately need, that you’ve worked so hard for.

“Need it–need you, Joel, don’t stop, don’t–”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. Take your time, kiddo, I’m right here.”

“You’re here,” you nod, your brows furrowed together and you’re almost unable to speak, too focused on the prospect of release.

Your velvety folds soaked in Joel’s come and your own arousal. “I’m– fuck, Joel, I’m close,” you moan.

“I know you are, keep goin’,” Joel coos, “You’re right there, just let it happen. Gimme a good one, sweetheart,” You feel your orgasm building to a new edge when you hear him say, “Come for me.”

All it takes is that one command, laced with Joel’s encouragement, and you’re sent tumbling over the edge. Your long-awaited orgasm begins at your core and travels through you, washing over you with pulsing waves of pleasure. “Joel,” you moan breathless and needy, writhing on top of him. You feel it everywhere, in your spine and down your thighs. Your clit twitching, your walls pulsing around nothing as you ride him.

“That’s it, kiddo, there it is. Good girl,” Joel coos. “Did so good.”

With a soft moan, you fall limp next to Joel, steadying your breath.

A moment passes. “Finish the job,” he whispers.

“What are you talking about?”

“You made your mess on me, so you’re gonna clean it up. Part of the deal, sweetheart,” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on his thigh, then swipes his middle two fingers through the mess and pushes it between your lips, “You know what to do. Lick it up,” he instructs.

It’s not lost on him, the hypocrisy of having you clean up a mess that he had you make. But like he asked, you do it. You’ll do it every time he asks. He holds your hair back as you lick the mess from his thigh, savoring that slightly salty, masculine flavor he knows you love. “Such a good girl. You ready to go to sleep?”

“No,” you yawn, and Joel puts on his glasses again, opens the book back up and reads you the story. You’re sleeping on his chest in minutes.

If you enjoyed, please please please reblog, leave me a comment, or send me an ask. Your words go a long way and keep me motivated to write 🩷

Forgot to add cat pics!!! I add these at the end of my fics now

#tbr #LETS GO

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