#beefro answers

[beefrobeefcal]

OKAY okay I just think...pegging Frankie thoughts here. His favorite positions are missionary (he's a sweetie) and doggy style for the following reasons.

Missionary because it's intimate, he can hold you close and keep his face in the crook of your neck as you take him apart nice and slow. Feeling his hips, pressing your thumbs into his sides a little bit for leverage and to revel in the plush of his middle...

And hittin' it from the back!!! Using his love handles to manhandle him around in bed, hunching over his back as he takes all of you ... Feeling the way his belly hangs and soothing it lightly as you speed up inside of him. Taking his hand in your own and pressing it over his gut, asking if he can feel you, and he swears that he can—sidenote, Frankie definitely has a size kink.

AND! Pressing down between the blades of his shoulders, forcing Frankie down onto the bed so he's face down-ass up. He snivels and moans into the pillow, biting at the fabric as he unintentionally ruts into the sheets on every thrust until he cums.

Aaaand scene. Sorry I have many thots.

To Nonnie, Love Beefro

I… I didn't know I needed this, Nonnie… thank you 🥵🫠🥩

Smuttiest regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

--------<3---------

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Frankie one shot

The Catfish & The Mouse: Frankie Gets Notched Down a Peg

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary: Frankie joins in on an age old tradition for Mouse's Birthday.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 1,521

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, pegging, birthday cake getting burned, lube, butt stuff

Author's Notes: Thank you to @romanarose for instilling the THOT in our hearts & minds, and to my lovely Beta Fish @neverwheremoonchild for doing what they do best 💜

--------<3---------

“I wanna… I wanna peg you.”

Frankie’s face read ‘huh?’ as he looked at you, pinned underneath him.

“That’s what you want for your birthday?”

“Yes.”, you grinned bashfully.

Frankie had tacked you on your bed upon returning home from work, demanding to know what you wanted for your birthday this year as he tickled and playfully bit you. Even though your birthday was over two months away, he liked to be prepared.

Need less to say, your answer stunned him, leaving his heavy weight pinning you to the bed.

“Is… that okay?”, you finally broke the silence timidly. You’d done the research and neither you nor Frankie were strangers to each other’s back doors, but this was new territory for the both of you.

“Didn’t know my princess was so kinky…”, he responded in a low growl before resuming his tickles and bites.

*****

Thankfully this year, your birthday landed on a Friday, and you were able to take the day off. Frankie wasn’t but that didn’t mean he hadn’t booked you for an all-day package with Hannah at your favourite spa. He said he wanted you to be relaxed and feel good, ensuring you’d be ready for the night’s main event. Hannah was acting like she had no clue what ‘event’ he was referring to, but you suspected a surprise party at the bar you frequented.

The spa was amazing. By the time you and Hannah poured yourselves into Will’s SUV, you felt like goo. Between the facials, manicures, pedicures, massages, mud baths, and champagne, neither of you would have been fit to drive yourselves home.

You waved Will and Hannah goodbye as Hannah screeched “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOUSE!” out the window, and walked up the steps to your house. As you unlocked your front door, you thought it weird that neither of them teased or hinted at a big night, but maybe they were getting better at hiding things.

Walking into your home, you could smell something burning. You rushed into the kitchen and found Frankie pulling out a cake pan with the charred remains of what was possibly cake. He looked up and gave you a sheepish smile.

“Happy birthday, baby!”, he chuckled.

“Oh honey…”, you sighed with a laugh. You walked up to him and looked in the pan, then placed a kiss on his cheek. “You’re too sweet.”

“I tried one of your ‘from scratch’ recipes, and… let’s just say that it’s probably for the best it burnt.”

You both started laughing and Frankie tossed the burnt, and likely wrecked, cake pan into the back yard to cool.

*****

After giving you your presents, Frankie led you into the bedroom. Last year, he led you into the room to show you the new vanity he built you, with Benny’s help, in your ensuite for your birthday, and the year before, the new bed frame and matching bed side tables. You wondered what new furniture would be waiting for you this time, and when he opened the door and stood back, you saw… nothing new.

You looked up at him confused and he nodded towards the bed, and you looked at it. A pretty, pink box with a purple ribbon.

“Frankie… you’re spoiling me!”, you giddily chirped as you skipped over to the box and opened it.

You moved the tissue paper out of the way, and before you sat a bright violet harness and a neon pink dildo, with a pink bottle of lube.

Frankie came up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and kissing your neck.

“Thought you’d wanna look pretty wile you fuck me, princess.”

*****

Frankie helped you get into the harness, all while you both giggled and kissed each other. Once you were strapped in, you kissed him, pushing him back onto the bed, stroking his rock-hard cock slowly.

He grunted into your mouth, breaking the kiss.

“Fuck… princess… how… h-how do you want me?”, he panted, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

Your eyes went dark. It was so very rare that Frankie gave up the dominant role in your love making, and this was truly the first time he was giving it up without you asking. He was yours to do with what you wish. You’d watched a few pornos with strap ons, and while the idea of fucking him missionary was definitely appealing, for your first time, you figured that doggy style would be more approachable. That, and when he fucked you like that, you loved how much control he had over you.

“On your knees.”

He smiled and huffed a nervous laugh and rolled over as you put a towel underneath him, just in case.

“You ready, baby?”. You cooed, reading under him, giving his heavy belly a squeeze before gripping his cock and pumping.

“Yeah… yes, fuck, yes.”, he sputtered breathily.

“Okay, baby… safe word?” Your tone was that of a kindergarten teacher, as you squeezed some of the hot pink lube onto your middle and index fingers.

“P…Paul Simon.”, he grunted as you pressed your finger to his tight muscle.

“Paul Simon.”, you cooed back with a smile, working your finger into him. “I like that.”

He grunted, precome beading at his tip and his hips bucked slightly into your hand. You worked your middle finger in and his elbows shook as he panted and let out small whines.

“Relax… Frankie baby, relax… I got you…”

You felt him start to give in and relax under your touch.

“There you go… feel good, baby?... tell me how good it feels…”

“So… so fuckin’ good… ahhh… so g-ah!... so good… fuck, prin-princess…”

“You ready, baby?... or you need my fingers still?”

“Ready… fuck… I’m ready.”, he stammered as his eye lids fluttered under his tented brows, and he nodded.

You pulled your fingers out and lubed up your tip and length, then gently pushed the tip into his hole. The whine that came from his mouth made cunt drool and clench on nothing.

“Oh Frankie… you like this?... yeah, baby?”, you cooed, pressing into him further.

His shaking arms finally gave out and he was now propped up on his knees and elbows as you began to pump in and out of him slowly. Franke whined and moaned, and you gripped his chubby waist, his love handles, and began to fuck him fast and hard.

“Oh… oh fuck… fuck… fuck… Jesus Christ… princess… Mouse… baby… oh god… oh fuck!”

You set your pace, keeping your focus on him and the noises he made, making sure none of them sounded like his safe word. You slid one of your hands up and on his back between his shoulder blades and pushed him down gently. He obeyed your touch and his cheek pressed into the mattress as he moaned his praise and filth.

“You feel me, baby?... up in your guts?”, you growl as your hand moved from his back to his front and slid down, pressing into his belly. His hand came up to yours and gripped it as he panted.

“So fuckin’ deep… keep… keep goin’… please… please Mouse… oh fuck…”

 He released your hand and you again moved it to hold his cock. What you found made you let out a whimper: it was painfully hard and pressed against his belly firmly. You barely touched the tip and he let out a high-pitched whine and a shudder ripped through his body.

You gripped and pumped his cock as you thrusted into him over and over.  Frankie’s eyes rolled back, and his mouth opened slack, and his cock shot hot ribbons out all over the towel below followed by a loud, low moan erupting from him.

You gripped his cock, offering a few more pumps and thrusts before he whined, “Paul Simon… Paul fuckin Simon!”

You immediately let go of him and withdrew your strap on and he collapsed on the bed, panting heavily.

Crawling beside him and cupping his face, you asked worriedly, “Baby? Frankie? Did I hurt you?”

“No… no, Mouse…”, he panted with a lazy grin. “Just… just over sensitive…”

“Oh, thank god!”, you breathed, laying beside him and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He chuckled and turned slightly, pulling your front to his, still breathing heavily and sweating. His belly was covered in his come, and now so were you.

So much for putting a towel down. You thought to yourself, smiling.

You peppered kisses over his sweaty brow and cheek, and he smiled and sighed with exhaustion.

“Did so good for me, Frankie… love you so much.”, you praised between kisses.

His eyes opened and he looked at you from under heavy lids with a goofy grin on his face.

“I’m guess this was the ‘main event’ you were referring to? Not a party?”, you laughed.

He didn’t answer, he just kept that same look on his face as his hand slithered down your side and then slipped between your legs, feeling wet you were.

“Happy birthday, princess.”, he grinned as he pushed to onto your back and slid down your body, kissing and sucking along the way.

--------<3---------

TAGLIST:

@theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @blackfemalenerd @toxicanonymity @southernbe @starkeydaviss @patti7dc

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #frankie morales #triple frontier #you ask beefro answers #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #chubby frankie rights !!!!! #beefro answers #beefro is sweating #pegging a p-boy #🥩

[beefros-non-peepaw-bin]

Okay, I don't know if anyone has mention this yet but Oscar as Richard in The Letter room

There's material there I promise

Especially when he kept going back to the fridge to have another bite of whatever he just put in there

I... I have some research to do... good god that man. who's lucky hand is that?

Thank you, Takos. I am feeling... inspired.

Yours in sin,

Beefro👌🥩💜

#you asked beefro answered #you ask beefro answers #thot tank #non-peepaw content #oscar isaac #oscar isaac chubby #🥩

[saradika-graphics]

howdy! love your dividers!

Do you have any food theme ones?

If not, pls don't worry! Love your work & wanted to let you know!

Beefro 👌🥩💜

hi beefro! here's a couple food-themed ones you might like!

— Cherries

— Citrus

— Pancakes / Waffles

— Peaches

— Pizza/Spaghetti

(and thank you so much!!)

#type: requests #type: answers #beefro

[lean-ground-beefro]

Hold up! Wait a damn minute!

How the hell did I not know this blog existed?! BEEFRO!!!

Imma eat all this up! I love you so much. 😭😅

it’s a new addition to the Bistro, Pamy!

And as you can see, it’s pretty bare around here… contribute to the THOT TANK today and let’s change that!

Thank you for coming to leaner side of the menu 👌💜

Beefro 👌🥦💜

#you asked beefro answered #🥦 #thot tank #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #Beefro’s lean menu

[romana-after-dark]

🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨ 🫶

HIIIIIIII

Right now I got a few on repeat.

Rooms on Fire, Stevie Nicks

Peaceful, easy Feeling, The Eagles.

Nothing Compares 2 U, Chris Cornell's cover

Boys of Summer, Don Henley

For you, BUT SPECICIALLY THE LIVE FROM HAMMERSMITH ODEON 1973 (8 minute version) Bruce Springsteen

#romana answers asks #Beefro tag

[toxicanonymity]

WIP Wednesday

Ty for the tags @iamasaddie @beefrobeefcal @milla-frenchy @romanarose @gracieispunk and anyone else because I'm not getting all my tags.

Long ago I posted a WIP snippet of vampire Joel talking to a librarian, and I've axed that version in favor of a librarian with more personality/potential.

He sighs and opens it. Her message just says “Joel,” then a picture comes through. His stomach drops. It’s his search history. About taking care of adult human women and keeping them from running away. She must have taken it darkly. She would.

“God damnit,” he quietly curses himself. Of course he didn’t clear it. He didn’t even log off. God, he's an idiot. She's typing. Joel's heart is racing. She stops, then starts again, and he presses the heels of his palms into his temples. What now? Should he call her? She wouldn't tell anyone, but – Her message comes through with a woosh: “this is what librarians are for”

“Ha," he scoffs with the slightest smile. He shakes his head and turns the lock screen off without answering. He’s cautiously relieved, but a little worried too - He's seen her at her worst. God, he hopes that was her worst. What does she want?

Another message comes in: “let me help you"

-----------

Tiktoks for those unfamiliar with misty Quigley

Ty @dark-scape for helping name her 🙏

Lately I've posted riskier teasers bc I love to know people might react. guess this is kinda my test kitchen now. I'm a Beefro fangirl. Beefro is a genius.

np tags @noxturnalpascal @beskarandblasters @jupiter-soups @gasolinerainbowpuddles and anyone who wants. sorry if you already went!

#wip wednesday #vampire!joel #misty quigley #joel miller x reader #dark!joel miller #technically #but in a wholesome babygirl way 😭

[beefrobeefcal]

BB! Happy Thanksgiving to you and all the residents of the Great White North who celebrate!

In honor of the holiday (and its Stateside equivalent coming next month), what are the Chubby!Boys' favorite Thanksgiving Day foods? I just KNOW my sweet Frankie can't get enough of Mouse's homemade pie. (And no, that is not a euphemism for 😺...unless the THOTS want it to be.)

To Nonnie, Love Beefro

That's a good looking question, Nonnie!

Thank-you-for-being-a-friend regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

Chubby!Frankie 🍲

Our first P-boy is a sucker for the whole spread, but his need for sides is his downfall. Mashed potatos, green beans, brussells sprouts, candied yams, dinner rolls, stuffing... if it is accompanying the main, he's gonna have his absolute fill of them.

Chubby!Joel 🍗

Joel's a carnivore. He didn't survive this long by not appreciating his proteins, and now that he's thriving in Jackson, he'll show his thanks the best way he knows how: whether it's turkey or ham on the table, he'll destroy what ever shirt he's wearing's buttons on that alone.

Chubby!Dave 🍰

This man is a midnight snack-cake sneaky snacker... so you would be right in guessing that dessert is his favourite part. Pies, whipped cream, ice cream, cakes, tarts, cookies - desserts are one of the few things Dave will let his freak flag fly for then put himself into a sugar coma on the kitchen floor.

Chubby!Peña 🍾

Javier's favourite part of any celebratory meal is the alcohol. Hooch of any kind is appropriate and allows him to really let loose and consume everything his host (because you know he can't cook worth shit) has on the table. A drunk Javier will become a very full Javier.

Chubby!Dieter 🥳

If there's a celebration and there's food, Dieter is already happy. Doesn't matter what it is. The Bistro's resident Dionysus' favourite part of Thanksgving... is Thanksgiving. If he can create mayhem (and maybe an orgy), he's set. Just let him sit back - naked - and stuff himself stupid as everyone has a good time.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #you ask beefro answers #you asked beefro answered #THOT TANK #beefro answers #chubby!frankie #chubby!javier pena #chubby!joel miller #chubby!dave york #chubby!dieter bravo #🥩

[beefrobeefcal]

Interesting! 🐈🐟+🐁=🏇

Looks like Frankie’s gotta empty tank while playin’ pony with Mouse.

Does that mean Mouse packed snacks for the ride? 🤔

Ride-it-just-lose-control regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #frankie morales #triple frontier #you ask beefro answers #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #chubby frankie rights !!!!! #beefro answers #beefro’s bistro #🥩

[beefrobeefcal]

Oooo y’all are thirsty af for a chubby, pissy Peña

Already Friendos: we have our roster! (in order of appearance)

Thank you to our lovely @harryleatherfit for their collaborating skills + thirsty THOTS

Chubby!Javier Peña

Oh, so you think you have the upper hand when you point out his belly? Think it's a good idea to poke it and tease him for it? Think he'll take it in good humor and let you off the hook? Think again...

2. Chubby!Dieter Bravo

You know how much he enjoys his snacks after a good toke, but he really didn't anticipate the effects the munchies would have on his waistline or his self-esteem... or the drug-laced kitkat's effects on his libido...

3. Chubby!Dave York

You've noticed his cloths are fitting quite snug, but you have no idea why until you catch him red-handed in the pantry, enjoying the treats you hide there. But he's the one who doles out punishments, not you...

Again, these gents will join the Beefro's Bistro menu after we meet Chubby!Joel (& maybe Chubby!JaviG??? We'll see what's good).

Get ready for some good ol'fashioned P-Boy Tummy Time™️, babies!

Hello-Christ-I'm-'bout'-to-sin-again regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #chubby!javier pena #chubby!dieter bravo #chubby!dave york #chubby!p-boys #beefro's bistro #beefro answers #🥩

[beefrobeefcal]

Congratulations! 🍕🍾✨

This IS a nifty corner of the Internet and one of my FAVORITES! This achievement is awesome. And you deserve so, so many more! You deserve the world my friend. I also want to compliment you on your branding, top notch, from your emojis to the way you answer asks and address us. LOVE everything about your blog but especially you and your stories 🥩💙🥩💙🥩

THANK YOU! 💐

Toxy - I'm weak in the knees!

Beefro is about to be real, y'all.

@toxicanonymity - this right here made me get emotional. Thank you very much for this, Toxy. You're one of the writers I admire, and I'm very appreciative of your e-friendo status. 💜

I genuinely got this blog going because I wanted to be a small part of this amazing group, and I had no the intentions of writing anything (set your phasers to THANKS when you see @harryleatherfit for that). I just wanted to admire some extremely talented folks who happen to share a similar interest. Before this, I was not a writer - I was someone who could write. Believe me, there is a difference.

The fact that you called it branding warms my little media/marketing heart; I want your interaction with me to remind you that this is a fun place to daydream. You're important + your THOTS are valid - even if you're generously contributing them anonymously in the THOT TANK. 😭🥹😘🫠💜

I think we all know what it's like to stand outside the circle of cool kids and want to be a part of it, I certainly do. I'm grateful that Beefro's Bistro has become a safe place for those who have a raw-doggin' love of Pedro Pascal mixed with - let's just say it - the taboo appreciation for tummies. And we're all the cool kids here!

If the internet were not a place for anonymity and we all lived on the same continent, we'd have a sleepover at my house once a month and gigglesnort over our THOTS and eat frozen pizzas while watching Triple Frontier in my den. 💜💜💜

And-I-eeee-I-will-always-love-you-ooooooahhhhh regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

#pedro pascal #beefro is thankful #beefro is blessed #beefro's bistro #beefro answers #thot tank #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #chubby pedro rights !!! #chubby pedro pascal #you ask beefro answers #you asked beefro answered #🥩

[beefrobeefcal]

Congratulations on your 100 followers!!

I really appreciate your page and writing. I've always had a kink/preference/THING for tummies, and I've always carried some shame about it. I've tried to "train myself out of it" again and again in the past to no avail. To find a place where tummy love--specifically with the characters of the hottest actor on the planet-- isn't just accepted, but celebrated, by at LEAST a hundred other people, is amazing 💖🥰

Cheers to you and what you've created! And thank you for graciously receiving my feral Thots 😅

Rebby, you got me right in the gosh darn feels!

Thank you, lovely @rebel-held. Are we the same person? I have spent so long hiding my appreciation of a good tummy, but I couldn't hold back when I started seeing others talking about Mr. Pascal + his love of frozen pizzas. 🍕🍴💜

We're 100+ strong and even if the Bistro doesn't grow beyond that, I think we have a pretty nifty little corner of the internet carved out for our selves. 💜🥩💜🥩💜🥩💜🥩💜

Thank you, Rebby! and know it is NEVER a chore to receive your generous contributions to the THOT TANK - we all benefit GREATLY from your THOTS 🥵🥵🫠🫠🥵🥵

All-my-lovin'-I-will-give-to-you regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #chubby pedro pascal #pedro pacal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal tummy #chubby pedro rights !!! #beefro answers #you asked beefro answered #you ask beefro answers #beefro's bistro #🥩

[beefrobeefcal]

JUST SAYING HELLO, thank you for doing God's work 🖤🖤🖤

Hello Toxy!

If this is god’s work then I’m a heckin’ saint 😈👌🔥 and you’re right there with me, baby!

This is the 2nd time I’ve receive this gif! I’ll have to bust it out when Joel is ready to bust his belly outta dat flannel… oh hell yeah

Hungry-for-love-and-it’s-feeding-time regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

#you asked beefro answered #you ask beefro answers #chubby!joel miller #incoming game #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #chubby pedro rights !!! #chubby joel rights !!! #thot tank #beefro answers #beefro’s bistro #🥩

[beefrobeefcal]

OMG CONGRATULATIONS BEEFRO🖤🖤🖤 you’re writing is so wonderful and you deserve all the followers and love that you get, you’re definitely in my top 3 on writers on tumblr

-Love Deathy🖤

Deathy - you marvelous wonder!

Thank you Thank you Thank you! Your love + support + THOTS give me LIFE!

I am humbled with your sweetness, @deathsholywaterr . Please keep being you 💜🥩💜🥩💜🥩💜🥩💜🥩💜

This-sass-on-my-screen-I-feel-so-complete regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #chubby pedro pascal #pedro pascal tummy #you ask beefro answers #you asked beefro answered #beefro answers #beefro's bistro #🥩

[beefrobeefcal]

the BEEF | #1: Joel Miller

Summary: no-outbreak AU, Joel has a headache and that headache wants his attention. [based on a prompt THOT up in collaboration with @strang3lov3]

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,833

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, angry fools who want to play hide the sausage, angry joel, shovel violence against a truck, monster cock, age gap (joel is in his 50's, reader is younger), p in the v (unwrapped), rough dresser sex,

Author's Notes: welcome to the BEEF. Each P-boy has a thorn in their side that has to be dealt with. Thank you to @covetyou for inspiring the idea, and thank you @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3, @rebel-held & @bitchesuntitled for their brains and eyes.

and thank you to every friendo in the Bistro - it's all for you, babies.

Joel Miller was your street’s cranky asshole. No one dared throw a party or hold a garage sale without letting him know first. No one dared let their grass get over a certain length and the whole neighbourhood breathed a sigh of relief when he would go out of a town and not see the kids scribble with chalk on the sidewalks in the summer. He never called the cops; no, instead he showed up and berated whoever was hosting an event or engaging in an activity he found offensive. And he was intimidating. He wasn’t the tallest, but he was built like a brick shithouse. You’d lived on the block for almost nine years, and in that time, Joel had gone from being a broad, sturdy single father to a single, empty nester who lived off HungryMan frozen meals. He was a big man with linebacker shoulders and a meaty chest stacked on top of a boulderous belly. His plaid button up shirts always looked like they were holding on for dear life to avoid his temper.

And you were utterly in love with him.

Before the most recent snowfall, you’d been in your room on your bed with the window open a crack to let in some fresh air. Right below your window was Joel’s front porch, and as soon as you heard his door fly open, you grabbed your vibrator and listened.

“Get off my lawn!”, you heard him bellow at who ever had dared to approach his house.

You smiled to yourself and turned on your purple silicon friend and shoved it in your underwear.

As Joel berated the hapless victim of his temper, you nudged yourself closer to the edge. As you did, you cared less about the volume of your cries and let your noises out at top volume. By the time you came, Joel was standing on his porch with his mouth agape, staring at your bedroom window and the offending party walked away with a look of disgust.

*****

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

You watched as your snow shovel slipped out of your hands and hit your Joel’s truck. The one with the vanity plate ‘SM 9000’ that you had no clue what it meant. You could only sit back and watch as it fell and gouged in the paint job on Joel’s 1989 Dodge Ram pickup, your panties grew damp as you heard his front door open and slam against his house.

You turned around, raising your hands, trying to look like you were de-escalating the situation. “Joel, I-“

“The fuck’re you think you’re doin’?!”, he bellowed, stomping towards you.

As he yelled and flew into a tantrum over your shovel’s sins, you couldn’t help the stupid, lovesick half grin blooming on your face.

“… and you ain’t got no respect for no one’s property and…”, he stopped, took a breath, and looked you over, face twisting in a confused rage as he tried to figure out why you were looking at him as if he were a can of tuna and you were a cat watching him being pulled open ever so gently.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!”, he yelled, stepping forward, trying to scare you to no avail. He huffed and stomped his foot, trying to snap you out of whatever trance you were in.

You sighed and tilted your head, loving the attention he was finally bestowing on you, not caring that your reaction was essentially dumping gasoline on a house fire.

“Fuckin’ disrespectful shit…”, he snarled as he grabbed your arm and dragged you towards his house.

“Joel? What’re you doing? Where we going?”, you asked with a big dumb grin on your face then wincing at the harsh grip he had on your elbow. Your boots slipped and skidded on the icy walkway and you tripped heading up the stairs.

“Fuckin’ clumsy dumbass…”, he grumbled, shoving you through his front door and slamming it behind you both.

You looked around his entry way, noting the ugly wallpaper and the stale cigarette smell lingering. You crinkled your nose, and he turned around, his frown deepening into a scowl.

“Boots off!”, he barked, harshly motioning to your feet.

You didn’t miss a beat and toed them off quickly, kicking them into the wall. His jaw clenched as he watched the dirty snow clumps slide slowly down, leaving wet patches on his yellow-turned-brown floral wallpaper.

His eyes snapped up to yours, expecting an apologetic look. Instead, he was met with…

“Why the fuck you lookin’ at me like a love sick puppy?”

Joel was enraged. You didn’t run away or beg for forgiveness. No. You stood in his entry way, kicking your boots and making a mess, looking like he was David Cassidy or Patrick Swayze. You smiled back softly and that was the last straw for him.

“WHAT IN THE FRESH HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

You could have cum right there. Joel Miller was yelling right in your face. You’d gotten off by listening to him lose his shit at anyone trying to fundraiser or collect donations who had dared knock on his door but having a front row seat to a live performance was better than you could have ever imagined.

Joel watched your lips part and your brows twitch as they furrowed and your head tilt back slightly. He heard your breath hitch between his furious growling breaths, and his eyes slid down your parka-clad frame and he swore he saw your thighs clench.

His eyes went wide as he realized the effect he was having on you.

“You fuckin’ dirty little shit…”

The whimper he received in response made his cock twitch in his WalMart Levi’s. He sucked in a harsh breath and swallowed hard. He hadn’t had a woman look at him like that since he went to the strip club with his brother for his bachelor party, and he knew she was looking for a hefty tip. But you – the only thing he could think of is that you were trying to find a way to get out of paying for the damage your shovel caused. There was no waythat you were actually interested in him in that way. No. No woman had wanted to fuck him since before his daughter, Sarah, had been in junior high. He was a fat old asshole and you… you weren’t.

“Joel…”

Your soft voice pulled him back and the frown he carried all but left his face, being replaced with eyebrows to his hairline and his mouth open in confusion and shock.

“Joel, I… I’m sorry about your truck.”

You grabbed the zipper to your parka and pulled down, opening it to reveal your great aunt’s knitted sweater with a loon on it. Joel’s widened eyes swept over you and his brows furrowed.

“The hell you up to?”, he croaked, trying to sound intimidating.

“It’s warm in here”, you respond, tossing your parka on to, but missing completely, the stair banister.

His mind was racing. You actually seemed to be coming on to him as you stepped closer in your mismatched socks. You looked up at him through your lashes while your hands slowly slid up your legging-clad thighs and up to the hem of your sweater. He watched as you pulled it over your head slowly, getting it stuck for a moment, revealing a worn out white t-shirt with a faded image of a marshmallow peep and the slogan ‘Holla At My Peeps!’. He took another step back and you tossed your sweater at him, and he stumbled back, falling onto his recliner.

“Jesus, woman!”, he hollered, ripping your sweater off his head just in time to see you standing above him.

“You know how hot you are?”, you asked, leaning forward over him.

He froze. He must be dead. Or asleep. Or maybe he slipped when he stormed out the door to yell at you and hit his head. Or maybe he was drunk. Maybe he took a NyQuil tablet instead of the Omega 3-6-9 fish oil pills.

“The hell is wrong with you?”, he sputtered out, looking at you wide-eyed.

You didn’t answer. You only leaned forward, nudging your nose against his and letting out a breathy giggle. He tried to speak again, but his words got lost in the high pitch grunt he let out when your knee came up and nestled in between his thighs, pushing against the considerable bulge that had developed.

His hand involuntarily gripped your wrist that was supported on his arm rest, and he sucked in a deep breath.

“I know exactly what you need, Joel Miller.”, you cooed, tongue jutting out and licking your teeth, trying to sound seductive. “You need a good fuck.”

His mouth hung open in shock. You grinned wildly and kissed the tip of his nose before nipping at his bottom lip and tugging it between your teeth.

Joel let out a groan and closed his eyes, the hand on your wrist moving to your t-shirt’s hem and slipped underneath it. You nudged your knee against his crotch again and kissed him, tasting no-name waffles and burnt coffee.

The kiss seemed to break something in Joel. This wasn’t a dream, or an antihistamine induced hallucination or a concussion - this was real. You, his hot, young, stupid neighbour was crawling onto his lap and shoving your tongue down his throat.

He grunted lowly and pushed you back, looking up at you with dark eyes. You tried moving forward again, but his hand held you back.

A whine emanated from your throat, and he shook his head. “I’m not fucking you-“

You scoffed and he shushed you.

“Oh, hush and lemme finish, you loony shit!”, he huffed. “I was sayin’ that I'm not gonna fuck you in this chair; it barely holds my weight and if you’re gonna be bouncin’ on me, this fuckin’ thing’ll screw the pooch.”

You shrugged your shoulders, irritated. “Okay, fine. Then where?”

“My bed, you nimrod!”, he snapped with a scowl, then grinned. “Got a nice mattress with good lumbar support.”

*****

You had followed Joel to his room and were pleasantly… let down. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the beige walls and the picture of a horse above his non-exciting bed were not what you had thought he would have. What surprised you was the essential oil diffuser plugged in on his bedside table, giving the air a fresh lavender smell.

The fact that the rest of his house looked like a rejected concept for an early nineties sitcom and his bedroom looked like a bed and breakfast that had no theme, for some reason, made you want him more. This man and his lack of consistency. You needed him in you now.

Grabbing his arm and turning him around, you pulled him into a desperate kiss; teeth and tongues, fighting for real estate in each other’s mouths.

“Get naked, sugar.”, he grunted as he broke the kiss with a lopsided grin. He unsnapped his shirt, revealing a grey, stained undershirt, its ribbing pulled tight and stretched over his belly while his mouth and surrounding patchy facial hair glistened with your saliva.

While he wasn’t being that polite, he wasn’t being mean. That was a problem. Even with how mundane he’d revealed himself to be, it wasn’t enough. The residual dampness that made your panties stick to your core was a result of him yelling at you out front, and that goodwill your pussy had shown was slowly drying up.

Joel’s hands began to make quick work of his belt and stretch denim jeans, but he noticed you not moving to do the same.

His hand flapped at you in an urging motion, “Make with the no clothes. Can’t fuck you with them on.”

His eyes narrowed as he noted your lack of movement, and he paused. You began to see signs that Joel was getting mad, and your mind flipped through every situation you’d witnessed him lose his shit in.  What was it that would set him off quick? You weren’t about to throw a block party in his room, nor were you a religious group knocking at his door early on a Saturday. Then it clicked.

A devious grin broke out slowly on your face as you sat on his Temperpedic mattress and crossed your arms.

“Make me.”

“You indignant little shit…”, he growled, clenching his fist.

A flutter in your lower belly. More.

“Come on. Make me.”

“You fuckin’ tease… Fuck you!” His eyes were filling with fire.

An almost painful need bloomed in your core. More!

“Fuck me yourself, coward.”

He sputtered and guffawed, eyes wide in rage.

“You fuckin’ shit! Bangin’ up my truck and actin’ like a needy Jezabel just to fuckin’ tease me like this!”

You could have cum right there, between the iron grip on your wrist and his loud belittling.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that erupted, and he snarled. He grabbed your hand and yanked you up off the bed. You truly thought his back was bad enough that the effort of getting you up alone would be too much, but he shoved you against his dresser, then slamming his weight into your back. You whined, feeling your pussy clenching on nothing.

“You’re such a shit!”, he grunted, grabbing your elasticized waistband, and yanking your leggings and panties down on one side while your hand went to the other; the two of you awkwardly working towards removing your barrier.

When they were low enough on your legs to step out of, you clumsily did so, then tried to turn around to help Joel. He wasn’t fast enough, swearing under his breath as your hands lifted his belly to access his strained button fly. His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting like a dog on a window while a steak was being grilled just on the other side.

You pushed his jeans down around his hips and they pooled around his ankles. He kicked them off and bit down on the crux of your neck and shoulder as your hand cupped and felt up his hard cock.

Jesus. Oh fuck.

Joel was hung. Like unreasonably so. You’d had your fair share of men slamming their pork steeples into your wet cunt, but none of them could even hold a candle to the monstrosity that sat heavy and covered in satin in your hand. You planted your hand on his chest and pushed him back, needing to get a peek at what Joel was packing. You immediately looked down, seeing the Wile E. Coyote faux-satin boxers protruding out in an impressive, and frankly intimidating, bulge.

“Oh shit...”, you breathed out, contemplating on whether you truly needed to do any serious sitting for the next week, or if you could maybe just get away with laying down at work.

His hand snapped to your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eye, and he gave you a dark smile, “Showed up to a gun fight with a knife, sugar?”

You didn’t have time to respond because Joel shoved his hand between your legs and harshly began rubbing your clit.

Your eyes fluttered and rolled back. Joel watched, an approving sneer on his face.

“’S fucked up … you like this?”

“uh…. Uh-huh…”

“You’re a lunatic…”

You smiled lazily. “You’re fingering a lunatic… w-what’s that say about you?”

He paused then huffed out, “That I’m fingering a lunatic, you moron.”

You let out a throaty laugh that bleeds into a moan as Joel shoves two thick fingers into your hole, slowly dragging them out before plunging them back in.

“You’re a sick little shit… you seducin’ and teasin’ an old man, an’gettin’ me all wound up… Neighbourhood headache… that’s you. Fuckin’ shit up and walkin’ away with a smile on her dumb face.”

“’M close… don’t…. don’t stop…”

His fingers kept the slow languid pace going as he leaned in and harshly whispered, “Unlike you, sugar, I don’t like to leave people disappointed.”

His eyes never left you, watching your every move. Every involuntary twitch and shudder, every flutter of your eyelids and breath leave your parted lips. He could feel it around his fingers and see it on your face that you were feeling everything intensely and now that he had you like this, he wasn’t going to let you go without making sure you weren’t going to pull this shit again.

Joel was many things, but a man who could let things go was not one of them. He was tired of hearing you cream and cry on whatever silicon thing you were shoving into yourself through your bedroom window as he lost his shit on someone; tired of seeing you make eyes at him while you sat in your front yard as he grumbled at a neighbour for the state of their lawn. He was still furious at you for once letting your hand - your soft, sweet, tender hand - linger on his when handing him his mail that was accidentally delivered to your home, forcing him to sit in his shitty recliner and try to finish with his calloused, rough, and hard hand. He never came.

You were going to pay for that. He’d promised himself that for almost five years and now here you were, on your way to being a muppet with how his hand played in your pussy. Joel’s time had come.

You came, moaning, on his hand as he watched, his fingers still moving in and out of you, and his thumb took up the task of tending to your twitching clit. Your face twisted and you cried out, trying to push his hand away.

Your tongue felt thick in your mouth and a moan seeped out. As you rode the wave, he yanked his hand out and grabbed your arm, throwing you onto the bed.

“Goddammit, you’re such a pretty shit.”, he grumbled, reaching for your ankle, and tugging your ass to the edge of the bed. You tried sitting up on your elbows, but he shoved you back down with his body weight.

His weight. Good god, he felt heavier and better than you ever thought he could as he pressed you down into the mattress.

But he got up off you, trying to wrangle your ankles and pull your exposed pussy to just the right spot to save his back from being strained. You tried sitting up again, wanting to have some sort of control over the situation, but Joel growled and grabbed your hips, and, in an impressive feat, flipped you onto your front all while grumbling about what a pain in the ass you were.

“Can’t even fuckin’ be considerate enough to stay put…”

You heard him spit then grunt, figuring he was priming that fucking meat wagon between his legs, and you let out an impatient huff.

“Knock that shit off!”, he snapped, flicking you on your ass cheek. “You just came, nimrod. You can fuckin’ wait!”

“Yeah… but I wanna cum again!”, you whined out with a smile, trying to not laugh at how irritated he was with you.

“I bet you do… but you’re on my time, and I am a patient man, sugar.”, he crooned lowly, snaking his hand up your back and to your hip. You squirmed a bit, but his hold kept you planted in place, and his other hand held his cock as he nudged it against your opening.

The smile on your face dropped as his huge member pushed in; your mouth opened, and out came a gasp followed by a choked moan.

“That’s it… Jesus Murphy…  not even fuckin’ your throat and I got you to shut your mouth…”

Yes, you knew Joel was huge. But it was just an abstract concept up until that moment. Now that he was shoving his massive dick into you, you felt like the universe’s mysteries were now clearly laid out. You knew what religion was right, who shot JFK, how they made the moon landing look real…

Nothing in life would ever surprise you again because you were being split open by this grumpy, fat man. You were being ruined by Joel Miller.

He grunted as he pulled back and then slammed into you.

“Tight little snatch, sugar… takin’ me like a champ.”

You couldn’t respond. Your brain had melted and left your skull empty, and you were unable to do anything but breathe loudly and moan, “S’too big… too big…”

Joel snickered and grunted, snapping his hips and shoving himself deep. You wriggled and squirmed, simultaneously needing him stop and to fuck you harder. Your head began to feel faint, and your core squeezed him, forcing a groan out of him.

He began to snap his hips faster, panting and grunting like the fat kid in gym class being forced to run a mile. You whined and squirmed, trying to get your knees under your body to be able to push back against him, to get him deeper, but he grabbed your calf and bit your leg right above your sock with a growl then groaned, “Stay… stay put… don’t move… jus’lemme… lemme finish…”

You let out a yelp than melted into a moan, throwing yourself into another orgasm. Joel’s thrusts became hurried and more erratic. The high-pitched whine that ripped out of Joel sounded like a dog begging for table scraps as he shot his load into you.

He collapsed onto your back, both of you panting. After what felt like hours but in reality, was only about 30 seconds, Joel had gone quiet. You nudged him, hoping to god he didn’t die from a pussy-induced heart attack. He grunted and struggled to push himself up off you, then flopped on the bed next to you. You rolled over onto your back and looked at him. His cheeks were flushed, and his brows furrowed; his wispy salt and pepper hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes were closed. He was still breathing heavily through his mouth. You smiled, feeling a fulfillment you hadn’t since you’d convinced your parents that it was your sister who broke the CD-ROM drive in the family computer even though it was really you. Cuddling into his, your fingers drew heart shapes in his sweat coated chest hair.

Now that he’d fucked you, you wanted to clear the air as it were, and make sure he wasn’t going to make you pay for any damage to his truck. “So…”

Joel grunted in response, one eye opening and looking at you.

“I was just wondering… what’s your licence plate mean?”

He sighed and closed his eye again. He said the meaning quietly and at first you weren’t sure you heard him right.

“What?”

His cheeks flushed a little harder and he rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a huff.

“ShagMaster 9000.”

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[beefrobeefcal]

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Joel Miller & his Darlin' One Shot: A Trouble Shared is a Trouble Halved Summary: You and Joel navigate settling down in Jackson as a couple with its ups and downs. (Post Outbreak)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,900

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, fingering (f receiving), talk of eating, weight gain, oral (f receiving), angst, established relationship growing pains, argument

Author's Notes: Am I back? Maybe baby! I'm delighted to finally do what was asked of me in a poll and I thank you all for your love and patience.

Thanks be to @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3, and @notjustjavierpena for their eyes, thots, and brains. And thank you to @noxturnalpascal for the THOT that gave life to this fic so very long ago.

“Eatin’ like it's your last day on earth, Miller...”, you teased with a wry smile as you walked past him in the dining hall.

“Shut it...”, he grumbled, a bit of pink flushing his cheeks. He took another bite of gravy-flooded mashed potatoes.

“What helping’s this? Third? Fourth?”

Joel looked at you, exasperated. “The fuck? Can't a man enjoy his girl’s cookin’ without the third degree?”

You smiled at him, loving how much of a rise you were getting. It had been a few months since you and Joel had your first encounter, and while nothing was made official, more often than not, you’d find yourself entwined with Joel in your bed at night. His heavy, full stomach pressed against your back as you both slept peacefully. While you enjoyed your time together, you were beginning to feel something was lacking, hence your teasing.

The cold glare he gave immediately dampened the playful banter between you. You felt a twist in your mood and sour heat in your stomach.

He shook his turkey leg at you, giving you a scolding look, and warned, “You better knock that shit off, Darlin’... or so help me, I’m not gonna - .”

“Not gonna what?”, you asked, getting closer, and you voice dropped down to a cool whisper only he could hear. “Not gonna fuck me? Pretty sure haven’t been doing that lately anyway, so what’d be the difference, huh?”

He sat back with wide eyes and his mouth open in shock, and his full belly sat rounded out on his lap. You stood up, brow raised, and arms crossed.

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?!”

Joel was affectionate, but usually too tired, full or both to do anything but let you ride him. And not to say you didn't enjoy it, but it was starting to feel a bit one sided. He hadn’t done anything beyond finger you a bit to get you ready and then sweet talk you into being on top again. He’d apologize and praise you, but you wanted more. Especially now that there was more to him.

His eating habits had really started to impact his physique; his jawline was softer, his arms and thighs were thicker, but his stomach was truly the star of the show. He’d made do with the clothes he had for as long as he could, but at the rate he was eating and the limited physical activity he’d been doing, he had to trade labor and time for new shirts and pants that would fit him. And on nights when he ate like this, you swore you could hear the seams praying to their polyester gods for mercy.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“Coulda fooled me!”, he snapped, louder than he meant. “Seems to do the trick and make you whine and mewl like a beaten dog almost every night!”

You felt your face get hot as a few heads in the dining hall turned towards you. He sighed and his eyes softened as he saw your face fall a bit. But you held firm, pulling your mouth into a scowl.

“Not every night, nowhere near it. And I’m the one doing the work. I’m the one fuckin’ you!”, you hissed.

Before giving him a chance to say anything else, you quickly turned and went back into the kitchen.

*****

After storming out of the dining hall, you’d spent the rest of your shift cleaning the entire kitchen, probably to a degree it hadn’t been since its installation. You’d scrubbed and polished every surface with enough fury in your eyes that no one dared step in. It wasn’t until you heard the jukebox turn off and see the lights in the dining hall dim that you realized you’d been at this for a few hours.

As you leaned back against the counter, head down and thinking over how your and Joel’s interaction had escalated like that, you heard a small voice say your name. You looked up and saw Sally, one of the other kitchen attendants.

“Sorry - don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m tryin’ to close up and Joel won’t leave. Says he’s not leavin’ without’cha.”

You scoffed out a ‘for fuck’s sake’ then walked to the swinging doors, only to see Joel, still seated where he was before, leaning back in his chair and picking his teeth with a toothpick. His eyes met yours, and you knew just from the look he was giving, he had a lot more to say.

“Joel, go home. Need to close up and can’t if you’re here.”

He looked behind you at Sally and gave her a small wave. “I’ll help her close up, Sally. You run on home. We got this.”

“Joel!”, you hissed.

“Go on now, Sally.”

His tone left little room for Sally to argue, and she muttered a ‘good night’ as she passed by you then Joel as head made her way out the door.  You sighed, clenching your jaw, feeling the frustration and anger that you’d just weeded down in your cleaning frenzy begin to rise again. Joel watched Sally leave, then turned back to you, smug look on his face, made all the smugger as he noted your irritation.

“Darlin’, cut that shit out and come’ere.”, he crooned with a small grin, hilding his hand out to you.

You glared at him, not moving from your position.

He kept his hand out and raised his eyebrows and let out a huff. “Don’t make this old man beg, baby…”

“I think this old man has a lot more ground to cover than just beggin’.”, you responded cooly, crossing your arms across your chest. Before Joel could answer, you turned and went back to the kitchen to finish your duties.

You figured there was a 50 / 50 chance of Joel following you in, so as the door swung open and his heavy footsteps lumbered towards you, you knew he was at least picking up slightly on the passive aggressive breadcrumbs you’d dropped. You kept your back to him, drying cutlery and putting them into their respective bins.

“Darlin’…”

Joel’s voice was set low in a growl, leaving you unable to tell whether he was angry or aroused. You jumped as his hand grazed your lower back and settled on your waist, giving you a small squeeze.

“You wan’me to beg?”, he huskily growled into the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss to your skin.

“I gotta finish closin’ up, Joel.”, you stated, keeping your voice as even and unaffected as you could muster.

Joel let out a frustrated sigh-turned-grunt and let you go, stepping back. He leaned back against the wooden shelf behind him, the wood creaking in objection to his weight.

“Fuck, you’re being-“, he started, before letting out a huff. “What has gotten into you?”

Turning around, you were met with something you didn’t anticipate – a dark, sullen, glaring Joel, eyes burning into you.

“Joel-“, you groaned, before he cut you off.

“Don’t fuckin’ Joel me.”, he snapped. “You got a lot of fuckin’ nerve. You know what you said in front of the people eatin’ their food out there? You said I wasn’t fuckin’ you right. And then, I sit here like a goddamned fool, waitin’ for you to finish so we can talk, and you turn your back on me.”

“Joel, I need t-“

“Shut up! I ain’t done talkin’!”

You close your mouth and swallow hard. While you’d seen him get mad before, Joel had never directed it towards you before, and lord almighty, it sucked.

“You think I’m a fuckin’ mind reader? Think I’m gonna know you’re not happy?”, he asked, sounding loud and desperate, as he stood up and stalked towards you.

As he looked down at you, realization of how much bigger he was, in height and weight, came over you.

“I have said someth-“, you tried to argue, but his large hand grabbing yours and tugging you against him stopped you.

“Don’t interrupt me!”, he barked. “You aint said shit! And now you – fuck! No. You know what? Ain’t worth it!”

His eyes glowered down into yours and you in turn felt your eyes begin to sting with tears at the loss of contact. This was the most emotionally charged you’d seen Joel, and you wanted that same energy and passion when he fucked you, not use it to berate you for needing him to give you the same time and attention he showered on the food you cooked for the whole community. You could feel your face getting hot from the anger that was boiling in you over how overlooked you felt, even if it wasn’t entirely true. You were in a heated, frenzied spiral and reason and rationale had abandoned you.

Before you could snap back and tell him how worth it you actually were, Joel’s eyes softened; he let out a deep breath and let go of your arm and stepped back.

“I’ll… I’ll see you at home.”, Joel muttered before he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

You stood silently and watched him leave, feeling your heart break and immolate in your rib cage and hot tears fall down your face. It hit you hard just how hurt you both were.

*****

The house was dark when you walked in the front door. Joel had left no lights on, and you knew Ellie would be at Dina’s house for the night. The only hint you had to deduce that Joel was in fact home was the dim light you saw through his bedroom window as you approached the house. You hung your coat and tucked your boots on the shelf before quietly ascending the stairs to go to your room.

As you tiptoed in the hallways, you passed Joel’s bedroom door and heard him moving around his room. You could see his shadow from the light slipping under his doorway and felt your stomach curdle and sour, your mind jumping to rash conclusions about what he could be doing in there.

Was he packing to move out and get away from you?

Was he trying to clean up to remove your smell?

Was he collecting your things that you’d left in his room so he could hand them to you and tell you to get out?

As the thoughts rippled through your brain, you knew Joel was more methodical than that. He wouldn’t just leave or make you leave like that… would he?

You stepped forward, forgetting about that floorboard. The creak that sang out made both you and Joel’s shadow stop. You kept still for a moment, but the shadow didn’t move either. You were suddenly thrust back into your childhood; the times you were trying to sneak down into the kitchen to grab a snack or watch a blue movie on cable television without your parents catching you.

That fucking floorboard.

The shadow moved slightly, signaling Joel was getting closer to the door, and you moved quickly to your room, no longer caring how much noise you made. As you reached to grab your door handle, you heard Joel’s door pull open.

“Darlin’?”

Your hand clasped the knob, and you closed your eyes, hearing his voice.

“Yeah, Joel?”

You were surprised how soft and calm your voice sounded; it was a stark contrast to the overwhelming, post-anger, anxiety-ridden mess that was your mind.

“Turn around and look at me, Baby.”

“M’tired, Joel… Just gonna go to bed and – “

“I said turn around.”

It wasn’t a request. His tone was gentle, but you could feel it in your bones that this was a command - a soft one, but a command none the less. Your skin prickled in a wave of goosebumps, up your body, culminating at the base of your neck.

Joel must have been able to see the effect he had on you, because the voice he used to speak almost melted the flesh from your bones.

“Darlin’, you’re gonna turn around and look at me. Now.”

You turned around and looked at him. His broad and hefty silhouette stood ominously in his doorway, backlit by the soft glow from his bedroom.

“You comin’ to bed?”, Joel said quietly, but there was an edge to his tone that made your skin once again pebble.

You narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at his question, then shook your head subtly.

“No, Joel. I figured we’d take the night an-“

“And what?”, he snapped, stepping out into the hallway and towards you.

When you didn’t answer, he took another few steps and growled in a lower tone, “And what?!”

Your eyes went wide as he got closer, and your fight or flight kicked in. Taking a step back, you hit your bedroom door, and stumbled through your words. “I… I-I thought… I figured that you’d wanna-“

“That I’d wanna what?”, he snarled, stepping close and his full belly pressed you further into your door.

“Th-that you’d… you’d wanna be… alone to-tonight…”

Joel’s hand came up and he grabbed your chin, forcing your face square to his. “And why d’you think that?”

“Because… because we fought-“

“And you think that gives you the right to not sleep in my bed?”

You were stunned; you had no answer for him, and you also hadn’t ever been this turned on by him with out him already being knuckle deep in your pussy. You swallowed hard and stared back at him. This was a feeling you couldn’t place; it felt like you were slipping under a spell that Joel was casting.

The only response you could finally give was a headshake, and Joel returned it with a curt nod and slight grin.

“Good girl.”, he purred and released your chin.

You followed Joel back into his room, and stood awkwardly as he closed the door. You’d been in his room countless times, and you’d never felt this out of place. You jumped when he put his hands on your hips from behind and pulled you back, the curve of your spine being the perfect angle for his heavy belly to fit against.

“You feel like I’m not takin’ care of you, Darlin’?”, he huskily mewled into your ear before nipping it.

“Joel, I’m sor-“

“Stop.”, he said, abruptly stopping you from finishing your apology.

“We’re past that, Darlin’. Both said things we needed to say, even if we said’em not so nicely.”

You could hear the small smile in his voice and couldn’t help the one that tugged at your mouth slightly. A whisper soft sound came out of you with a sigh. 

But then his tone dipped down, and as he rasped into your ear; one of his hands on your hip slipped to your front as he cupped your denim clad mound.

“You got my attention, baby. You feelin’ needy?”

Your mouth opened, and our flew a feather-light choked whimper. He gripped you roughly and pulled you snug against him, enough so that you could feel his thick and hard cock press against your ass.

“That why you had an attitude with me today? Needed me to fuck you? Fix that ache in your needy pussy?”

You breathed his name out as your brows furrowed and your eyes clenches closed. “Joel…” Your hand snapped on top of his over your crotch, forcing him to apply more pressure and squeeze.

“Need me to remind you that you’re mine?”, he growled before biting the crux of your neck and shoulder.

You nodded, breathing rapidly, then you let out a squeal as he shook your hand off his, then turned and shoved you against the wall. He got close and his hands made quick work in opening and shoving down your jeans. His eyes snapped up to yours and his hand dove between your legs.

“Fuck, baby…”, he sighed, eyes rolling back as he felt how wet you were. “My poor girl’s floodin’ the basement and it’s’all my fault.”

You grabbed his wrist, stabilizing yourself, and let whining pants out with each breath as his middle finger began to dip in an out of your hole. The tip of his thumb gently circled you’re aching clit.

“Yeah… I know I been neglectin’ you, baby girl… but not ‘cause of nothin’ you did… no, baby… you’re just keepin’ me too well fed and I’m fit to be tied by the time we get home… if I could fuck you the way you deserve every night…”

“Oh fuck… Joel, I need y –“

“But you always lettin’ me get away with being lazy an’watchin’ your perfect tits bounce while you fuck this fat old man…”, he rasped, his lids heavy as he watched your face contort in need. “Jesus, Darlin’, you got e’ry right to be cross with me…”

As much as you loved his voice, you needed more. Fisting his shirt, you pulled his face to yours and sucked him into a desperate and messy kiss, teeth and tongues colliding, and it was sharp and splitting. You didn’t need gentle – you needed him.

He finally pulled back, breathing heavily, same as you, and a grin tugged at his parted lips.

“Oh, Darlin’…”, he cooed, finger and thumb still working your cunt in tandem. He leaned in, ghosting his mouth over yours and asked in a voice so soft, you could have cried. “I need you to know how bad you got me, baby… tell me what I can do to prove it.”

Emboldened by his lust-blown eyes with heavy lids looking at you desperately, you put your hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle push down. A smile pulled at one side of his mouth, instantly understanding your silent request. He stepped back and groaned as he lowered himself down, joints cracking as he got on one knee, and he looked up as he pulled your jeans down further then helped you step out, one leg at a time. As he de-robed your second leg, he lifted it over his shoulder, and he scooted forward, and your eyes stayed trained on him, catching every detail, every twitch of his face as he breathed huskily and inhaled your scent. You watched his eyes flutter and roll back, like you were a buffet of fine cuisine, and he was a starved man. He pressed his nose in your crux and nudged in further, panting and swearing under his breath as he let your aroma and essence envelope him.

He took his time, as if he was making sure to catch every flavour, every note of your taste and smell, almost punishing himself for allowing you to feel unappreciated. His hands reached behind and pulled your hips forward into his face and you whimpered out a gasp as your shoulders planted against the wall behind you being the only thing keeping you upright.

“Joel…”, you breathed out, swallowing, trying to alleviate the dry mouth your open mouth breathing had caused. “Joel, please…”

He groaned into your warmth and opened his mouth, finally letting himself have a taste. His tongue licked out between your folds, starting slowly, but began to increase in intensity as he realized this was his favourite thing to savour. He grunted and panted as he lapped at you, his grip that held you so firmly to his face hurting you in the absolute best way possible.

Your fingers pulled his hair, aiding in keeping your core tightly affixed to his gaping maw, and you rocked your hip, mewling and crying out, begging him for more. Joel was in no position to deny you want you needed, not only because of the iron-clad connection currently created by both of your individual efforts, but he was eating his favourite thing. He’d denied you both for so long, he would happily suffocate between your thighs before ever taking a proper breath again if it paid the price of his sin. The noises he made as he ate and licked and devoured you sounded obscene - he sounded like a starved and feral dog, gnawing at a cut of meat tossed to him out of pity. You’re sure that if you saw his eyes, they’d be a black abyss like a shark’s as it bit down on its next meal.

The sounds he was ripping and peeling out of you were music to his ears, championing him further, pushing him harder to make you give him more of those delicious noises. He was rocking his hips in time with his mouth and tongue, letting his throbbing cock rut against the inside of his jean’s rough zipper. Between that, your taste and your fingers pulling his scalp taught with hair, he was in pure ecstasy.

He brought his hand attached to the shoulder your leg was propped up on and pushed two thick fingers into your core and began to pump them in and out - again, in time with his own hips’ rhythm. The white-hot burning coil that Joel had been slowly winding with his mouth finally sprung loose and snapped. You arched your back, silently screaming out as your body went rigid, and vaguely heard Joel growl. He continued to suck hard on your twitching and swollen clit and punched his fingers up into you as your rode out your orgasm. You heard liquid hitting the wood floor before you heard Joel let out a series of high-pitched groans.

His fingers slowed and his mouth was panting hot, quick breaths on your aching core. You looked down at him, chest heaving, to see him shakily pull his fingers from you and shove them in his mouth. Joel was a beautiful and carnal sight: breathing hard in grunts as he sucked his fingers clean. The act looked primitive, like he’d accessed his baser instincts, and he was satisfying a basic human need, a millennia in the making.

“Joel.”, you croaked, and he looked up at you with blurred eyes that slowly began to focus. He slowly pulled himself up, heaving his heavy belly. You helped him come back to his fully height and he leaned into you, pressing his forehead to yours. You could smell yourself on him as he kissed you softly before resuming your connection through foreheads.

“That was…”

“Yeah… fuck yeah… taste so good.”

“I wanna return the fav-“

Your hand cupped what you thought would be his hard cock, but stopped when you felt him softening and his jeans were warm and damp. You pulled your head back and looked at him, prompting a huffed laugh from Joel, pink flushing up his neck to his cheeks.

“You’re my favourite meal, Darlin’. You got me hooked.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

He pulled you away from the wall and onto the bed. He laid back and groaned as his spine relaxed. His full belly domed above him, moving gently up and down with each breath and you sat up, giving it a rub.

“You ate well tonight…”, you cooed, unbuckling his belt and opening his jean to access the mess he made.

He chuckled, supporting his head on an arm as he watched you with a grin. “Couldn’t help it… you serve food too good to not destroy myself on it, Darlin’.”

You shot him a look as you peeled back his damp and sticky underwear.

“Like I said, Darlin’…  you serve up a good meal.”

beef's glossary: The term "blue movie" is an old-fashioned slang term used to describe pornographic films, usually of the low budget variety.

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #chubby!joel miller #chubby!joel #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #chubby joe #chubby pedro rights !!! #chubby pedro pascal #fat belly #pedro pascal tummy nation #beefro's bistro #beefro is sweating #you asked beefro answered #🥩

[beefrobeefcal]

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Joel Miller One Shot

Please welcome Joel Miller to Beefro's Bistro!

a Joel Miller & his Darlin' One Shot: The Way into a Man's Heart

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You've been traveling companions and now that you're in Jackson, Joel's getting comfortable. (Post Outbreak)

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 3,650

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, fingering (f receiving), p in the v - unwrapped (don't be silly, cover you willy, kids!), talk of eating, belly praise, self esteem, weight gain, flannel shirt button popping

Author's Notes: FINALLY! The long awaited addition to the Menu is here! I wrote the majority of this listening to Hozier's new album so please forgive my non-fluffy heart if there are traces of fluff. Thank you to the Nonnie who submitted the illuminating THOT!

Major thanks to @harryleatherfit for their support, and to all those on the TAGLIST - this one's for you, babes 💜 The THOT TANK is always open, Friendos

--------<3----------

They found you in an abandoned apartment building somewhere in the Midwest, and after being cooped up together – surviving – for few days, it was settled that the duo had become a trio. Joel came across as a gruff and emotionless man and while he made you feel supremely unwelcome at first, he grew to at least give you the impression that he tolerated you for Ellie. For the next several months, it was just the three of you, trekking through the ruins of America.

The three of you finally found Joel’s brother and were tentatively welcomed into Jackson. It had taken some time for you, Joel, and Ellie to find your bearings after you’d arrived being that, for the first time in a while, you were expected to act in a civil manner towards others in proximity instead of defending yourselves and fighting for resources.

You and Joel were not a couple. He had never shown any interest towards you beyond your uncanny fishing ability, while you tried to not think of him as anything more than muscle and reinforcement in your travelling party. You were attracted to him, and you did your damnedest to squash any and all thoughts of him being more than a survival companion. This was made worse for you as Ellie would not even discuss the idea of you not being under the same roof in Jackson as she and Joel. Maria and Tommy had set the three of you up in a 3-bedroom home across from them, and you did your best to find a homey-rhythm as a trio.

While you and Ellie had taken to this new life with a relative ease, Joel was almost fighting it. Ellie let her curiosity run wild and you tried to find a social group, but Joel fought back. He didn’t engage with anyone that weren’t a select few outside of sideways glares and grunts in responses to hellos. He declined to get new clothing and outright refused to sleep in a bed until Ellie threatened to spill his deep, dark secrets to you that she had learned through his sleep talking. Even with food, now that there wasn’t a food scarcity or a worry about the next meal, he still refused to stray from his food rationing way of eating. He didn’t go to the mess hall to eat, opting instead for keeping to himself in the house, picking away at whatever was on hand in the pantry.

That was, until you had been assigned kitchen duty due to your skills from working as a teenage line cook in a diner, pre-apocalypse. You’d brought some food home from the mess hall one evening, and Joel picked at it, grumbling that it was decent and wouldn’t be opposed to you bringing home more.

So, you did. And he began to actually sit at the table and eat, but he didn’t come to the mess hall until the following week when you’d told him you were making a beef brisket buffet on the Friday night. While he’d shown more enthusiasm than you had ever seen before (he raised his eyebrows), you were very surprised that night when the hall went quiet as he entered with Ellie at his side.

Your supervisor was so shocked that he showed up, he suggested you sit with him since more than likely no one else would. Ellie took off immediately to sit with kids her own age from school, and that had led you to sitting at a small table in the corner with Joel, watching him eat. And good god, did he eat.

His first serving disappeared before you could even begin yours, and he was back with his second helping with an actual – albeit small – grin on his face.

“I have never seen you look so… happy…”, you mused with a smile at him.

“Never had reason to be… but this is good… haven’t had food like this in… fuck… years.”, he grunted while shovelling food in his mouth.

He looked up at you and gave you a brief smile as he chewed before going back to eating and your heart skipped a beat. That was the kindest he had ever been to you, and you felt those walls you’d built up around those thoughts and feelings you had for him shake.

You’d finished your food and stood up to return your dirty dishes, but as you went to walk away, he called your name.

“Hey Darlin’… uh, mind getting me another helping?”, he asked with a full mouth.

You nodded with a dumb grin at the new nickname, dumped off your dishes, and returned with another plate for Joel.

****

Three months later, the food he was allowing himself was starting to make an impact on his waistline. Never shying from second or third helpings, whether in the mess hall or at home, his tummy was more pronounced whether it was full or not.

You did your best to keep yourself in check, to not let yourself daydream about how that belly might feel under your fingers, or let your mind get carried away listening to the noises he made as he soothed his bloated middle. He would occasionally offer you little grins or a head nod, something he only recently began since being in Jackson, and you assumed he was being polite now that death wasn’t around every corner; this was just his true nature coming out. You figured your time living under one roof was coming to an end, given that you, he and Ellie were safe, and you didn’t need to keep such close quarters while you built your lives back up.

Ellie was spending more time with other kids and less at the house, while Joel continued to patrol and work in the carpentry shop, and you worked away in the community kitchen. When you and Joel were home alone, he kept a respectful distance from you. If there were moments your bodies could touch, like when you did dishes after dinner or he needed help carrying firewood in the house, he generally made a point of not getting too close and stepping back from you and looking away. You took the hint and figured the conversation of your moving into a place of your own was on its way.

*****

One Saturday evening, Joel had really outdone himself on the pork carnitas in the mess hall. You noticed he shifted in discomfort and discreetly had his hand on his lap. It took you a moment, but you finally realized he was unbuckling his belt and opened his pants. You averted your eyes to not embarrass him, but not before you saw that his belly was pushing out on to his lap. Joel Miller was having his fill, damned be his pants.

After he announced he was done, his green flannel shirt was pulled so tight across his middle that you swore you could hear the seams creaking and there were spaces between each of his buttons, exposing his undershirt.

The walk back to your house was relatively quiet, save for Joel’s grunting and huffing every other step from the strain of his full belly.

“Fuck me… I made a real hog outta m’self tonight…”, he groaned as you walked next to him. “Sorry you gotta see me like this, Darlin’.”

You could hear the embarrassment in his voice, and you felt bad for him. His belly, while full and bloated and bigger than you’d ever seen on him, was still smaller compared to some of the other Jackson men’s stomachs, but you knew if he kept this up, he’d be matching them in no time.

“Oh Joel… knock it off… I take it as a compliment. You actually smiled tonight… nothing to be sorry for.”, you responded in a matter-of-fact voice. “You enjoyed yourself.”

He scoffed, as you reached your porch, and opened the door. You helped him into the house, then closed the front door, both of you kicking off your boots.

“Good god… when the hell d’we get all these damn stairs?”, he groaned as he got to the bottom of the stairwell leading to the bedrooms on the second floor.

“Come sit on the couch… you’re not making it up the stairs anytime soon, Joel.”

You patted the back of the couch, then headed to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. “You want anything else?”, you called to him.

You heard him bark a laugh. “D’you see me right now? You think I could get anymore in’ere?”

You heard him sit heavily on the couch followed by him grunting “Dammit!”.

Walking in, you saw Joel sitting back, knees apart, and his favourite shirt unbuttoned to his chest, his undershirt riding up and exposing a strip of his belly and showed his pants were pushed open by his stuffed middle.

“What happened?”, you asked, walking back in with a glass of water for you both.

“Damn fuckin’… Jesus…”, he muttered, his cheeks blushing in deep scarlet. He noted you were still looking at him for answer. “My fuckin’ buttons popped. Wrecked my favourite shirt.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Joel, the hardened, battle-scarred killer who shot first and asked questions later, was blushing.

“It’s a good look on you.”, you teased as you sat in the chair next to the couch, leaning back and feeling emboldened by his vulnerability.

“What is?”, he sheepishly looked up at you.

“A big dinner.”, you smirked as you took a drink of you water, eyes on his.

He stared at you a moment then down to his round stomach, and he huffed a laugh and smiled to himself. You sat in a comfortable silence for a moment before he spoke.

“Didn’t know you could cook like that, Darlin’. Probably a good thing I didn’t know till we got here, too… couldn’t outrun shit with this full gut…”, he said, eyes still cast down and hand on his belly.

“Thank you.” It was your turn to blush, and before you could stop yourself, you said quietly, “Didn’t know you’d look so good like that.”

Realization hit both you and Joel about what you’d said, and you wanted to crawl in a hole as you saw his eyes go wide.

“Joel… oh my god… I am so…”, you started, covering your face and you didn’t see the grin that grew across Joel’s face and the look in his eyes as he watched you.

“I’m just findin’ all sorts’a things ‘bout you lately, darlin’...”, he teased in a low voice. “And here I thought you weren’t interested… and leavin’ me hanging.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you swallowed hard before you had the nerve to look up at him. His brown eyes were dark and looked hungry? He trailed his stare up and down your body as you sat and subtly licked his lips.

“Joel… I…”, you stuttered, paused, then finally asked, “Wait… what did you say?”

He gave you a lopsided grin and sat back with a smug face and stated, “I swear, darlin’, I thought you weren’t interested.”

You just looked back at him with wide eyes while his smug demeanor shifted into a gentler and warmer gaze. He smiled and patted the seat next to him.

“Come over here, baby.”, he spoke softly.

You stood slowly and his eyes never left yours and he raised his hand to take yours as you sat next to him sideways to face him fully. His hand went to your waist, his thumb stroking you.

“You drunk or something?”, you questioned teasingly with a smile.

He sighed a small laugh, his eyes again trailing up and down your body. “Nope, darlin’. Just felt like it was ‘bout time I was honest since I’m learnin’ so much ‘bout you lately.” He sucked in a breath and licked his lips again when his eyes watched your chest move with your breathing. “You look good, darlin’. Real fuckin’ good.”

His eyes moved up to yours and you could see the want, the need you held back for so long, burning in his eyes. You moved forward, your hand cupping his face.

“So do you, Joel.”, you breathed as you kissed him.

You heard him sigh into the kiss and push into it, his grip on your waist tightened, fisting your shirt and pulling you closer. You instinctively ran your hand over his taught, full belly and he shivered as you did, his grip trying to pull you onto his lap now.

“Get up, baby… can’t bend that way right now… get on me…”, he instructed you in a breathy tone as you moved to staddle his lap. 

Your smaller frame was now right up against his swollen belly as you frantically made out on the couch.

“God damn… fuckin’ hell, darlin’… if weren’t so damned full, I’d do this properly in bed upstairs…”, he panted as you moved your kisses to his jaw and neck and began to rock your hips. His hands grabbed your hips and pulled them down to put more friction on his denim-clad cock. “Make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

He roughly jammed his hand between the two of you, cupping your heat as he began to make lude promises in whispers as you whimpered kisses along his neck.

“That’s right, darlin’… makin’ those pretty sounds… bet your pussy tastes better than your cookin’… how many nights I fucked my fist wishin’ it were your mouth…. Never thought you’d want an old fat fucker like me….”

You finally worked up the ability to push yourself back from him, and you looked down at his dark, blown-out pupils and his parted, panting lips, knowing you looked the same, while his hand stilled on your jeaned heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you, Darlin’?”, he breathed out, eyes pinned to yours.

You nodded as your hands moved to his shoulders and you pressed your mouth to his. He deepened the kiss for a moment, the pushed you up gently.

“Darlin’…”, his voice needy and almost desperate. “Baby, take your pants off…”

You stood up and removed your shirt and jeans, leaving you in your bra and panties. Joel huffed as he moved himself up off the couch, dropping his already open jeans, the grabbed your arm pulling you towards him.

“So fuckin’ pretty…”, he smiled before kissing you.

His arms wrapped around you and your hands went to his hair and around his shoulder. Unlike the previous kisses that were hasty and desperate, this one was slow, methodical, and carried over a year’s worth of unspoken emotions that neither of you were brave enough to put words to.

Joel pulled back first and softly smiled at you before he said is voice far too soft for the words he spoke.

“I’m gonna fuck you into this couch, Darlin’.”

His mouth is back on yours, hungry. Teeth and fervor, clashing between you. All that soft, gentle kissing was gone, Joel had given into what ever primal urges you had unearthed in him. You moan into his mouth as his hand grips your hair, pulling your head back.

“Joel… please…”, you begged breathlessly. “Take it... take me…”

He smiled darkly at you and pushed you face down over the arm of the couch, his hands going to the waist of your panties. He paused as if waiting for confirmation that you wanted this. You nodded and gave a strangled “uh-huh” and he pulled them down.

Joel let out a noise that you can only think was one from a starving man looking at a banquet feast. He dragged his thick finger through your slick folds, making you squirm and whimper.

“Oh, baby, you’re so fuckin’ pretty… bet your tight little cunt’s just waitin’… your pussy’s droolin’ for me, Darlin’... I’m gonna wreck you for any other man… wanna bury myself in your tight little cunt… so fucking pretty, baby.”

“Joel, please… fuck me… please… don’t tease!”, you cried out, unable to get any further friction from his fingers given the way you were splayed out on the couch arm.

“That’s right, baby… gonna take care of you, Darlin’… gonna make you feel good… patience, baby…gotta work you open for me.”

He removed his fingers and spit on them before he pumped one into your cunt, his thumb gently rubbing your neglected and throbbing clit. His finger was thick, and you could only imagine how big his cock was; you’d once got a quick glance at the outline before Jackson and if that was any indication, he was doing you a favour getting you primed and ready for him. He pulled back and added another finger after a moment, picking up his pace and you cried out and called his name as you gripped the couch cushion.

“So tight, Darlin’… tell me how bad you needed this, baby… tell me… tell me you need me.”

“I-I need this… Joel… need you, Joel… so bad… wanted this for so long… oh god… yes… there… right there, Joel… please, oh fuck!... Joel... Joel… keep going!”, you panted with a whine.

He pushed a third finger in, and you cried out and clawed at the couch cushion.

“Shhh, baby… come on, Darlin’… need to fuck you after this and I gotta get you open for me… need it to feel good for you… doing so good… I can feel it…. you’re close, Darlin’… let go for me, baby… come on.”

You could feel your orgasm building up, and when he curled his fingers and hit that sweet spot buried deep in your cunt, you came, crying out like a beaten dog.

“There you go… that’s it, Darlin’… sing for me, baby.”

He worked you through your orgasm, and when you felt like you could breathe normally, you tried to push yourself up. Joel’s hand rubbed in between your shoulder, and he gently pushed you back down.

“Darlin’, I’m too full to fuck you the way I outta… but you look to fucking good to pass up… you gonna let me have you here, baby?”. His tone was pleading and needy, but gruff, while his harsh, calloused hands gently rubbed you on you back where he pushed you down.

His words and the way he said them had your insides turn to mush and you could feel another gush of arousal slip from your puffy cunt.

“Please…”, was all your fuck-drunk brain could muster in a pathetic, breathy whine.

“Too good to me, Darlin’… too fuckin’ good to this fat old man.”, he groaned as he pushed his aching, hard cock into your tight, slippery cunt.

The feeling was too much. For a moment, you thought it wasn’t going to work, but he soothed you. He kept pushing himself in slowly, offering words of praise while his fingers dug into your hips.

“Takin’ me so good, Darlin’… that’s it, honey… so good… feel so fuckin’ good…”

He pushed in as far as his length could go and his tip kissed your cervix. Your lungs felt like they couldn’t fill with air you were so full, and you needed him to do something.

“You gotta relax, baby… I can’t move shit unless you relax…”

“Joel… please move… need you to move… so full… move, please…”, you whined, trying to catch your feet on the floor so you could push back into him.

He panted a chuckle and began to move, slowly at first, then increased his hip’s speed and intensity until he was ramming into you. The couch was squeaking on the wood floors from Joel’s weight repeatedly being forced against it. The couch’s rough material was rubbing harshly against your hip bones, but it was worth it for the sweet sting of Joel splitting you open as his heavy, full belly hitting your ass cheeks.

“Oh god… Joel… yes… yes… k-keep going… yes… fuck…”, you panted, tears in your eyes.

“So good… baby… you gotta come… come on, baby… you’re close, Darlin’… come on…”

The white-hot burn of your second climax crept down your spine and built up as his finger went to your clit, rubbing circles, pushing you over the edge. Your vision went blurry for a moment your body went rigid, your mouth open and high-pitched pants and moans escaped from it.

Joel’s hips sputtered as your climax pushed him to his own release. He let out a few deep, guttural grunts as he thrusted a few more times, spilling his hot seed into you.

He tried to not collapse onto you as he pulled out. He stumbled back into the armchair as you pushed yourself up off the couch’s arm.

“Fuck, Darlin’… wish you could stay bent over like that… sucha pretty sight…”, he huffed in a laugh as you got up. He patted his leg. “Come’ere, baby…”

You clumsily moved over to him and held your hands out. “No… up, Joel… Ellie could walk in the door at any moment and the last thing she needs to see is you stuffed to the gills with your dick out in the living room.”

“Sucha fuckin’ mouth on you!”, Joel grinned, and moved his hands to yours. “Better get a move on… let’s go to bed.”

You collected your abandoned clothing that was strewn throughout the living room and got Joel upstairs into his bedroom. You went to your room to clean yourself up and change, and there was a knock at the door. Upon opening it, Joel saw you and pushed his way in, closing it behind him.

He pulled you close to him, his belly pressed against your middle. You touched his face softly, gently running your fingers through his scruffy facial hair.

He smiled and kissed you tenderly and said softly against your mouth, “I got you, Darlin’… tell me you’ve got me… please…”

“I got you, Joel.” --------<3----------

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #chubby!joel miller #chubby!joel #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #chubby joe #chubby pedro rights !!! #chubby pedro pascal #fat belly #pedro pascal tummy nation #beefro's bistro #beefro is sweating #you asked beefro answered #🥩