#the last of us gif

[freelancearsonist]

the mark they saw on my collarbone

➔ post-outbreak Joel Miller x afab!Reader // series masterlist

➔ 4.4k words

➔ Joel’s instincts kick in when he runs into an omega in trouble along a smuggling route.

➔ Rated MA // a/b/o dynamics and the associated gender politics (alpha!joel and omega!reader), heavy dom/sub dynamics, unprotected piv sex, creampie, fingering, oral (reader receiving), biting/marking, blood, size kink, joel calls reader little one/little thing, mention of reader being food-insecure, alpha!tommy and alpha!tess are here briefly. takes place one year post-outbreak.

➔ this reader insert character: has female anatomy, no pronouns used, is generally able-bodied, is mentioned to be smaller/shorter than joel and can fit into his jacket, is otherwise a blank slate.

Tess’s face perks up halfway over a fallen tree–she stops in her tracks to tilt her nose into the wind. “You smell that?”

Of course Joel smells it. His senses were alerted to it about half a mile ago; he’s always had the better nose. He’s been trying to ignore it, however. There’s no point to giving into temptation in this shattered world, no matter how sweet the scent.

“Whew,” Tommy huffs, wrinkling his nose at the heavy pheromones that now drift around the trio. “Whoever it is, they’re closer than comfortable.”

“Smells like they’re in trouble,” Tess posits–always the thoughtful one. Always wanting to have faith in humanity, no matter how many reasons the last year has given her to lose hope. “That’s an omega. If not in full out heat, then damn near close to it.”

“Ain’t no way there’s an omega out on their own in these woods,” Joel growls. “It’s a trap.”

Tess shoots him a look–worried, stern. “What if it’s not?”

“It is.” He doesn’t even entertain the idea. There’s no way anything is left untainted in this world.

But with every step forward, the scent gets stronger and Joel’s resolve grows weaker. Your scent is so sweet. It reminds him of springtime in Austin, the little yellow sour grass buds and picnics in the park with…

The scar on his temple gives a single little throb, and he forces himself to focus up. They’ve got a clear destination, a contact to meet outside the Atlanta QZ. He needs to keep his head in the game and out of the past. Dwelling on that, on what the world was merely a year ago, is fucking pointless. No matter how much he hopes, how much he dreams, how much he begs and pleads to a god he never really believed in to begin with, nothing brings her back.

The scent makes his stomach churn the stronger it gets. It’s not like any omega he’s ever known before. They’ve all been… a little bitter. Or maybe his ex just left a tainted trace in his nose, spoiled it for everyone else. He’s never needed a partner to feel complete, anyway. Being a father is what gives him purpose. Gave him purpose.

He pushes that train of thought from mind, sets his jaw, and marches on.

The funny thing is, they’ve spent a lot of time in these woods–Tess, Tommy, and him. For as close to the QZ as it is, they’ve never met a single other soul in these parts.

That’s why, when Joel senses your pheromones only getting stronger as they forge on, he thinks about saying something. They’re headed straight towards you, into what must be a trap. The Atlanta QZ doesn’t take omegas; there’s no reason one should be so close. If he was smart, he’d make sure that the group avoids you at all costs. But there’s a deep, primal part of him that forces him to keep his mouth shut just as he’s about to open it and suggest rerouting their journey. He wants to investigate, to find out if you’re really as sweet as you smell.

He can tell Tommy and Tess are thinking along the same lines, and it makes his teeth grit together, eyes pinched in frustration. There’s an underlying possessiveness in every further stride he takes, eyes boring into the backs of his pack members’ heads while he takes position at the rear of the group.

This is why people used to say that alphas couldn’t work together, he realizes. Not that it’s ever been an issue for him before–but he’s never smelled an omega he’s wanted so much before, either. Tommy was always the tail-chaser, before everything went to shit; he was constantly getting himself into trouble, and Joel would constantly bail him out. And Tess… he’s never met an alpha quite like her. He’s never seen her with an omega, either; never bothered asking if she had one before the outbreak. But she’s compassionate, if a bit tough. She doesn’t seem like the main threat right now.

This is what he’s always hated about these god-forsaken roles. He watches Tommy’s pace pick up a little, sees the younger Miller’s nose tilt ever-so-slightly to the wind, and in this moment he sees his own brother as a threat. That’s something that should never have had to happen. But a pack of three, and all alphas… it was bound to happen sooner or later. Maybe they’ve all been fooling themselves.

It’s been great for them thus far, being able to use each other when necessary without fear of repercussions, but there also hasn’t been an omega in the picture yet. Now, with heavy pheromones swirling invisibly between the three of them, a subtle and silent struggle for dominance starts to rear its ugly head.

The scent only grows stronger, and it makes Joel worry. It’s heady, damn near overwhelming. Joel’s never witnessed an omega so close to heat without actually being in heat. The pull of your pheromones is dangerous–it’ll draw in every alpha within a range of miles, maybe even some from the QZ with how close you are. The range will only grow once your heat actually breaks out. The pack is heading directly towards the source of great danger, and all three of them know it. Even still, all three of them are powerless to stop it.

Joel spots you first. You’re nestled under a tree, sound asleep, half-camouflaged by a blanket of orange and brown leaves. You’re gorgeous, there’s no other way to describe you, and with your pheromones flooding his senses it’s nearly impossible for him to hold back from approaching you.

He reaches out a quick hand and grabs his brother’s arm just as he’s about to step towards you.

“Don’t,” Joel growls from deep in his chest. His eyes dart around quickly, searching every inch of autumn foliage for some sign of the trap this must be. They’ve heard about this exact kind of trap before, and Joel mentally curses himself for falling right into it despite knowing better.

Hardly any unmarked omegas survived outbreak day. Many of the few that did were captured by large groups of malicious betas and put into traps, their heats used to lure in alphas who were then exterminated en masse. Joel and his pack have been lucky not to encounter such a trap yet, but everyone’s luck runs out eventually.

They stand, they watch you, and they wait for the other boot to drop.

But it doesn’t. You sleep peacefully, albeit squirming a little bit, and no one else comes. There’s nothing but the sound of birds chirping in the distance and wind rustling the bare branches of the trees overhead.

All of a sudden, you wake. Your entire body jolts, nostrils flaring at the heavy and suddenly overwhelming scent of alpha. Your beautiful eyes widen with fear, and Joel sees you're about to make a break for it.

Without thinking, he steps forward and holds a hand out in front of him–a sign of goodwill. “Easy, omega. We ain’t gonna hurtcha.”

Your chest heaves with panting breaths, but you don’t move yet. You’re smart, he thinks. You know you can’t outrun all three of them.

“You’re in a spot a’trouble,” Joel continues, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible as he takes another tiny step closer to you. “Could smell your heat comin’ on from miles away. What’s a li’l thing like you doin’ out in the woods all alone?”

“Going to the QZ.” There’s a firmness behind your tone–how brave you are, he thinks. And how stupid. 

“Where you comin’ from?” He asks–prying, but gently.

You look apprehensive, but you answer anyway. “Tennessee.”

“Didn’t do your research, did you sweetheart?” He grumbles as gently as he can. “Atlanta don’t take omegas. You go there, ‘specially in the state you’re in, you’ll be shot on sight.”

He can almost see the gears turning in your head, albeit slowly given your state; you’re wondering if he’s really telling the truth, if you can really trust him. You’re wondering why he hasn’t leaped at you yet.

You gulp and plant your hands in the dirt at your sides as if you’re getting ready to stand, but you don’t move yet.

Tommy takes a quick step forward, and Joel sees the way you flinch at the sharp crack of a twig underneath the younger Miller’s boot.

“Joel–”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, a little harsher than he means to. “Don’t you fuckin’ move, Tommy. I mean it.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” you whisper, hardly louder than the breeze. And then he sees it–the first pang of heat, your face screwing up in pain and your body squirming uncomfortably on the forest floor. You try not to show it, but Joel catches it anyway. Your heat is here, and his instincts take over.

“Fuck off,” he snarls, stepping firmly between Tommy and you. Tess steps forward, mouth agape in some mixture of shock and confusion, and Joel swivels his burning gaze to her. “Both of you. Fuck off. Go on ahead to Atlanta, I’ll meet up with you there.”

Tess doesn’t look affected, just concerned. “Joel, what the–”

“Go!” He roars. There’s no room for argument, even though Tommy opens his mouth like he might try. In the end, they know there’s no winning. Not right now, not with Joel’s pheromones rising and his eyes so dark. They hesitate just a moment, slowly back away, and then finally admit defeat and vanish into the trees.

Once they’re gone, you don’t try to hide your pain as much. A whimper escapes your lips as you squeeze your thighs together and all pretense falls away.

“You okay, little one?” He drops to his knees beside you so he can give you a better look. It’s clear that the road you’ve traveled has not been easy on you–he’s amazed you’ve survived as long as you have all on your own. You’re disheveled and dirty, maybe even worse off than he is. You look like you haven’t eaten in days, and the simple t-shirt covering you isn’t nearly warm enough to protect you from the chill riding in on the late autumn breeze.

Joel’s quick to rip his jacket off and drape it around your trembling shoulders–he feels a strange surge of pride when you quickly pull the fabric tightly around you and nuzzle your face into the collar for a deep inhale of his scent.

“Talk to me, omega.” His voice is deep, demanding. “You doin’ okay? What can I do to help?”

“Alpha…” Your voice is so quiet, and all he wants is to take you into his arms. But now of all times is not the time to be hasty. As much as he wants you, he refuses to take advantage of you.

“It hurts, alpha,” you continue quietly.

“I know, baby.” The sweet ting of southern accent in his voice seeps into your very veins and warms you from head to toe with each rapid thump of your heart. “How can I help?”

You reach a shaky hand towards him and he meets you halfway, marveling at how small your hand is compared to his paw. He never really considered himself a big guy until this moment, seeing you so small and helpless beside him. Clearly it’s affecting you too–he sees the way your thighs clench tightly together the second he touches you.

“I trust you,” you murmur so sweetly.

For a moment, he considers running. He’s done horrible things with the hands that now hold you so gently. He’s not one to be trusted. He’ll only end up hurting you.

“Your scent’s gonna draw more alphas in, baby,” he coos deeply. “There’s a whole QZ fullav’em just a couple miles away. It ain’t safe to be out in the open like this.”

But there’s no logic or reason left in your gaze–you nuzzle your face into his neck so you can inhale his scent straight from the source, and Joel knows there’s only one way this ends without some worse alpha coming along and hurting or killing you.

“Need you, alpha,” you plead as shiny tears fill your pretty eyes. “Please, it hurts so bad.”

Joel wonders if this is your first heat–it sure seems like it. You’ve probably been on suppressants since the day you presented. Every bone in his body screams for you; screams to take your pain away, to soothe you with his own body, to make you his.

He’s never felt so much like an alpha as he does in this moment, when your heat gets the better of you and you fuze your mouth to his in a searing kiss.

Joel actually moans into your mouth. It’s deep and a little louder than he means to be, caught off guard by the suddenness of the kiss but even more by how sweet you taste. Your scent didn’t do you justice, really. He’s never gotten addicted to someone from their kiss alone before, and yet just as suddenly as it started he needs more. He needs to devour you whole, to claim every inch of you until there’s nothing left for anyone else. Even as he licks into your mouth and easily takes control of your mouth with his tongue, he knows this is going to end badly. He also knows that he doesn’t care.

“Sweet little thing,” he coos as he tugs you to straddle his lap. You can feel the insistent press of his hardening bulge against your core, and you grind down so hard he hisses. “Easy baby, I gotcha.”

“Alpha, please…”

“Gotta have some patience, omega,” he tells you firmly. “I’ll take care’a ya, but I gotta getcha ready first. Don’t wanna hurtcha.”

You kind of want it to hurt, you kind of want him to burn himself into your very soul, but you don’t say as much out loud. You probably couldn’t form the words anyway–all that comes from your mouth is a needy little whimper.

“Hush, omega, you’re okay,” he whispers into your ear as he lays you back against the fallen leaves, one hand carefully cushioning your head while the other pulls your thigh open so he can slot himself between your legs. “M’gonna make it all better, just gotta be good f’me.”

“Alpha…” You feel the first ounce of relief as he drags your jeans and underwear down your legs in one smooth motion. Your burning skin is met with cool air and it feels incredible. Nearly as incredible as the sensation of his kisses tracing down your body, even through the fabric of your t-shirt that he leaves in place because he doesn’t want you getting cold no matter how much it feels like you might spontaneously combust if you don’t feel him inside you soon.

“You’re gonna be good for me, arentcha?” He hums against the hem of your t-shirt, just above where you so desperately need him.

“Yes, alpha,” you breathe as politely as you can manage.

His lips latch onto your clit as soon as the words have left your mouth. He knows exactly what you need–none of that torturous rapid flicking that you’ve experienced in the past but firm, honest-to-god, get-the-job-done suction.

He slips a finger into your dripping entrance and it’s honestly amazing that you don’t come right on the spot. Just that one thick finger is a stretch–it makes you arch your hips up off the ground, desperate to get away from the onslaught of pleasure and yet simultaneously wanting more.

“I know, sweetie,” he coos against your clit, slowly curling his finger until he finds the spot that makes your thighs tremble. “Feels good, doesn’it?”

“Y-yes, oh my–”

He throws all pretense out the window and adds two more fingers, filling you to your breaking point. You shatter without warning as he increases the pressure on your clit, thighs quivering and hips bucking pathetically as your warmth coats his chin. Your entire body wracks as he works you through it, fingers curling against your g-spot as his lips mercifully release your clit with an obscene pop.

“That’s right, baby,” he coos proudly. “So good f’me.”

You’re panting as you come down, satisfied for one beautiful moment even as he pulls his fingers from you so he can kiss his way back up to your mouth.

He slots between your legs so he can lick into your mouth again, and the taste of your own pleasure on his tongue makes everything come crashing back down. Your cunt clenches hard around nothing, and you groan out in pain and need for him.

He grunts when your legs lock around his sturdy waist, feet pressing into his ass to grind his heavy, jean-clad cock into your soaked folds. He moans from the very pit of his stomach, surprised at the sudden movement–and then he presses even harder, grinding himself so firmly against your cunt that you swear you can feel the outline of his mushroom head even through the layers of clothing he still wears.

“Tell me you want this, omega,” he pants into your ear, still pressed so tightly to you as he reaches down to tug his belt open. “Tell me to fuck you.”

“Please, alpha.” You’re trying so hard not to sound whiny, but you’re failing miserably. “Please fuck me.”

Joel simply adores how sweetly you ask for what you need. God, he doesn’t even know your name, but it’s taking everything in him not to claim you for the rest of eternity.

Would that really be so bad? Clearly you’re a survivor if you’ve made it this far, and as an omega no less. You could be a valuable addition to the pack.

But really, it’s the thought of having you as a home to come back to that gets him tugging his cock out of his jeans to the symphony of your quiet moans and pleas. He thinks about having a lovingly-crafted nest and the sweetest, tightest cunt he’s ever known waiting for him at the end of a long day, and it takes everything in him not to blow his load right then and there.

He knows he doesn’t deserve this, but he’s willing to be selfish anyway. Just this once.

“Holy shit,” you gasp when you look down and see the firm length of him, barely contained in his big hand. He’s thick and weeping precum, tip stained a dark maroon from sitting in his jeans untouched this long. He’s nothing like the betas you entertained yourself with before the outbreak–you’ve never even really seen an alpha’s cock in person, and certainly none this large.

He must see the apprehension in your gaze, because he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger so he can raise your face to meet his dark, brooding eyes. “You tell me if it hurts, okay? Don’t wanna hurt you, wanna help you feel better.”

You don’t know why, but you trust him. So you nod, and you tug him into a deep kiss.

The first press of him into your waiting core has your mouth dropping open, head pressing back into the hand that cups the back of your head. He keeps you pressed so firmly against his entire body as he inches in. He’s so attentive, pulling back to watch your face for any sign of discomfort as he rocks his hips, pushing an inch deeper with every shallow thrust until the base of him settles as tightly against you as he can.

He doesn’t find anything in your expression other than pure euphoria.

He kisses you, breathless and messy, as he wills himself to stay still while fully sheathed in your tight heat. Damn it all, he’s fighting so hard for control. He’s never had someone squeeze him so perfectly, so warmly. Your cunt is pure, unadulterated heaven.

“A-alpha,” you whine once you’re ready, but he can’t move. Not yet. You’re his omega, he needs to take care of you, and he’s far too close to spilling himself deep inside your cunt and pressing even deeper so his knot can take root. He could never live with himself if he disappointed you like that.

“Please, alpha,” you try again, and the unrelenting need is what does him in. You need him, not just anyone. No one else could satisfy you how he does–he’s sure of it.

With the first true thrust of his hips, a wave of pheromones rushes over his senses. He basks in the scent of you, nearly high on it, and then the danger of this comes crashing back to him.

He thrusts deep, makes your toes curl and your chest heave, and he asks a weighted question as the pace continues. “This your first heat?”

You nod your head, barely even able to process his words. “R-ran out of s-suppressants.”

Fuck. He knew it. You don’t even seem to realize the danger, the calling card that you’re putting on display for every alpha within a ten mile radius. It’s a miracle that no one has shown up–everyone in Atlanta is probably wise to the trap scheme, luckily. But luck runs out eventually, and someone’s going to end up taking a chance for your delectable scent.

“Others’re gonna smell you, omega,” he growls as he grinds deep. “Ain’t safe to be unmarked out here. They’ll come f’ya.”

The pleasure is unbearable–toe-curling, blood-boiling, thigh-quaking. All you can do is sob and whine as his big cock fucks into you and hits exactly the right spot with every thrust.

“Gotta mark ya,” he continues quietly. “Only way to keep you safe, baby.”

You come out of your reverie a little bit at that; but deep down, you know he’s right. The only way you’ve been able to survive so long was a stockpile of suppressants you were lucky enough to get your hands on. But they’re gone, and with them your chances of surviving much longer. Unless you let this stranger mark you–the most intimate gesture possible.

“Okay,” you breathe against his neck. “Mark me.”

Your cunt clenches unbearably tight around his shaft as his teeth dig sharply into the base of your neck. Your taste floods his mouth, heady and warm–in combination with your legs locked around his waist, he can’t stop it. He’s coming before he can warn you, hot ropes of seed coating every inch of you, seemingly endless. And then, without thinking, he presses that little bit deeper so his knot can fill you to your limit.

You sob at the sensation, nails digging into his shirt-clad back in a feeble attempt to tamp down the overload of pleasure at the sudden stretch of his thick knot in your tight cunt.

“Fuckfuckfuck–” he growls into your bitten neck, grinding himself as deep as he can as his cock pulses within your tight walls. “Oh fuck omega, I’m sorry–”

You hush him to the best of your breathless ability as your hands smooth through his sweaty brown hair and down over his shoulders. “It’s okay. It’s okay, alpha. You made it so much better.”

There’s a long moment of silence, Joel’s mind swirling with so many thoughts that he can’t focus on a single one. You coax him through it silently, hands smoothing over the fabric of his shirt as your breathing slowly comes.

You’ve never felt so full, so complete. His scent surrounds you and fills you; nothing has ever felt quite so right.

You realize vaguely that he’s licking the blood from the teeth marks on your neck, and you think now’s as good a time as any to give him your name.

He looks up at you, confused for a moment, and then a warm laugh bubbles from his throat. God, he can’t remember the last time he actually laughed. What are you doing to him?

“Joel Miller,” he introduces himself back. “M’sorry, I shoulda started with that.”

His arms are getting shaky from supporting his weight above you, so he grabs firmly onto your waist and rolls smoothly onto his back with you rested snugly against his chest.

“M’sorry,” he repeats again as he feels his swollen knot pulse within you at the slight movement of your hips. “I meant to pull out, I–”

“I wanted it,” you tell him. “I wouldn’t let you. I’m sorry too.”

He gulps, nods once as a hand idly comes up to cradle your head. “I’ve got a guy in the QZ. He can get us a pill. But we’ve gotta be more careful next time.”

“Next time?”

“That was just the first round, baby,” he explains quietly. “Heats can last days, even a week. You’ll need a lot more care ‘fore it’s over.”

“Oh.” You feel so dumb, getting your education from someone whose knot is currently swollen inside you.

“We’ll get a pill,” he promises. “And I’ll pull out next time.”

“You’re… not leaving?” You’ve tried so hard not to have any false pretenses about this. You figured from the get go that he’d leave as soon as his knot went down and you’d never see him again.

He sighs heavily and runs a hand over the patchy brown hair on his chin. “Look, I… you met the rest’a my pack earlier, sorta. There’s just the three of us. We’re not good people, but… we’ll keep you safe. And you seem like you’re able to earn your keep.”

“I am,” you’re quick to assert.

“And I’ve marked you,” he adds. “Can’t just leave ya out here to fend for yourself. You’re my omega now.”

You don’t know why, but the words make your heart flutter.

You and Joel catch up to Tommy and Tess at the edge of the QZ, just in time for the meeting with their contact. Joel had explained to you on the way that it was an old acquaintance, a guy they’d met in Texas shortly after the outbreak who they’d worked with for a few months before he joined up with FEDRA. Now he sneaks supplies out to them in exchange for rarities from the other QZs.

That’s what the pack does, Joel had explained. They’re smugglers–they distribute things illegally between all the different continental quarantine zones.

Tommy and Tess see the two of you coming, and they’re instantly on guard. It only gets worse when Tommy recognizes the brown leather jacket wrapped tightly around your torso to shield you from the breeze.

“Joel.”

Joel tries to ignore Tommy’s call, but there’s not much he can do.

“Joel, what the fuck’ve you done?”

Joel supposes Tommy’s outrage is justified, but he shields you from it anyway. Truth be told, he doesn’t rightly know just what he’s gotten himself into with you.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #alpha! joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #cece writes #series: maroon

[jpbpxma]

pour some sugar on in me;

content warnings/tags: very nsfw, contains smut, breeding kink, pre/no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, age gap (as you want it).

It originally started off as a scare. You both got drunk after a New Year's party and ended up having a passionate night of sex- without protection, leading you to think you've gotten pregnant. Although it's been a year and a half since you got married, it had been a mutual agreement that kids were not in your future plans; Joel, thinking he might be too old for it and you, just not wanting that type of burden/responsibility in your life. However, when you found out you were not, in fact, pregnant, Joel found himself oddly disappointed and told you about it. "I dunno, it just felt nice to think of having a little one running around, being all cute 'n all," he had said. Surprising yourself, you agreed with him. So you decided to officially to start trying. And now, he couldn't get enough.

He's never been able to have sex with you raw like this before so every chance he could get, he found himself getting worked up and ended up taking you right then and there, no matter where you were or what time is was. Whether it's right when you woke up in the morning, when you were in the shower, when you were in the car, in the kitchen, and even a few times when you were in public. Not that you were complaining, you were enjoying it as much as Joel was. You loved the feeling of intimacy and you were constantly in a state of post-orgasm bliss.

"Hey, what you up to? " You hear Joel say from behind you, shuffling closer to put his arms around your shoulders and rest his chin on your head. "Finishing this dreadful assignment, why? " You question him, raising an eyebrow. "No reason, you're just looking really sexy right now," he hums as he places a kiss on the top of your head. "Joel, I'm literally in an oversized sweater and pajamas," you deadpan, even though you felt butterflies at his words. Ignoring you, he massages your shoulders under your sweater, his touch as electrifying to you as it was the first time. When you involuntarily let out a soft moan at a particularly sensitive spot, he reaches over to close your laptop and spins your chair around.

"Okay, that's it. You're coming with me," he announces. Before you realize what's happening, he has you in his arms, carrying you over his shoulder to your bedroom. He smacks your ass hard, making you yelp, before throwing you down on the bed. "You're crazy," you laugh out. "Uh yeah, crazy for you, baby," he counters, clearly proud of his comeback. God, he was such a dad already. He chuckles when you roll your eyes, taking his shirt and shorts off in the process. Now that you were in bed and after seeing those delicious arms, thighs, just everything of his on display, you were definitely getting in the mood too.

You run your fingers up his soft tummy, getting up to kiss along the little hairs that lead down his happy trail, smirking when you feel him let out a shaky breath. You pull down his boxers, his already stiff cock springing free, hitting his stomach. Licking your lips, you get closer to take him in your mouth when he pulls you back by the hair to meet his eyes. "Maybe another time, baby girl, right now I need to be inside you," he says impatiently, pushing you back into the bed before taking your pajamas and panties off.

Climbing on top of you, he cages you in his arms, kissing you fervently. You kiss back with the same intensity, your hands on either side of his face to hold him in place. He pulls away from the kiss, pressing one more peck to your lips before lifting himself up to slide between your spread legs. You can feel every ridge and vein of his length as he pushes into you- you could never get used to how much more pleasurable it felt uninhibited by a condom. "Oh my-" he grunts in a low voice, you know it feels worlds better for him too, "Fuck, you feel so good, baby." You squeeze around him at the compliment, biting your lip to muffle your moans.

"Joel, please, move already," you whine desperately. He takes your ankle and hooks your leg over his shoulder, shifting closer and pushing in to bottom out completely. You watch, enraptured, as he pulls out to the tip, and slams back into you. You cry out, gripping the bedsheets tightly as he smirks, pleased with your reaction. He sets a fast pace right off the bat, hips working into overdrive as he fucks you the way he knew both of you liked.

The only sounds resonating through the room were the sounds of skin slapping and the moans and groans you were both letting out. At this angle, he connects with your clit with each thrust. You wiggle your hips just a little and he hits it square on and that's when you really scream. "Oh fuck, you like it that much? " Joel asks earnestly. The corner of his mouth lifts smugly when you nod frantically, slowing down a bit to make his thrusts hit your sweet spot more accurately.

You're beside yourself with pleasure, he knew exactly how to get you to your peak and in the most ecstasy-filled way possible. He could tell you were close by the sounds you were making, lowering himself down, still slamming just as hard into you. He messily kisses your neck, your jaw, then moves up to nibble on your earlobe, whispering, "Want me to fill you to the brim with my cum and then fuck it all back into you again? Want to get pregnant with my children? Be my good little baby maker, hm? You'd like that, wouldn't you? "

His words combined with his thrusting send you careening over the edge and you convulse without warning, orgasm washing over you as you grip his shoulders for support. You clench around him involuntarily and he's so caught off guard by your sudden orgasm that he's sent over the edge into his, too. You feel his cum, hot inside you, pumping into you with every thrust. Joel is still deep inside of you as he finishes, his hands caressing all up and down your body.

"Well shit, we're really good at this, aren't we? " You nod, still out of breath and voice lost from all the screaming. He snorts at your inability to reply verbally but hums and bites along your neck as he nestles himself deeper into you and gathers you in his arms. "My beautiful girl, I don't think we're going to have any problem having kids." You couldn't help but smile. You didn't think you are, either.

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[theetherealbloom]

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM - CH.4

Chapter 4: ​​Scandal Does Funny Things To Pride, But Brings Lovers Closer

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking Around, FLUFF, LOTS OF SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Oral Male Receiving, Penetration Kissing, Barely any plot, NOT A SLOW BURN AT ALL, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content, Size Kink, Reader is “smaller” than Joel but no further descriptions, Breeding Kink, PWP (wrap it up), Body worship, declaring their love for each other, 

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: I wrote this in two days and I’m lowkey unsure if this all makes sense LMAO. So here we are, at the final chapter… tf am I gonna do now… (*stares at all the unfinished series rewrites*) well… damn. See you at the epilogue. 

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

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Joel doesn't think you both slept a wink that first week, the two of you creeping around in the dead of night and again in the pre-dawn light. You were over at Joel's place every morning, right after your dad left for work. He still thinks you're in your own bed every night, only helping Joel out part-time during the day.

But in between when he leaves for work and when he gets home for dinner, you're right where you belong – by Joel's side. Or, in most cases, bouncing your fine ass on the end of his thick, throbbing cock until you're screaming his name into a pillow.

It's not as if you haven't tried to tell your dad the truth. Joel has, too. But it cuts him up to keep anything from his oldest friend, especially when he sees your dad on such a high. Telling him the reality of the situation would surely ruin him.

Even though Joel knows it's the right thing to do, the thought of shattering your father's newfound joy and confidence is almost too much to bear. He's seen the way your dad's face lights up when he talks about the success of his business, all thanks to Joel's intervention.

Your dad is even making noise about setting up a workshop on the East Coast, making Joel's original idea sound like his own. But if it makes him happy, Joel's happy. Because of all that, you and Joel made a pact – if your dad asks either of you directly if you're anything more than just friends, you'll tell him the truth. But he's been so busy that neither of you have actually seen much of him at all.

As uneasy as it makes Joel, keeping the both of you a secret just a little longer seems like the easiest way to avoid making waves. Or so Joel thought. It's been two weeks to the day, and Joel doesn't think you or him have ever been happier your whole lives, except for the sneaking around past your dad bit.

But your dad is no dummy. And Joel can see now that he should have just come out with it, long before helping him get his business into first gear. You both guess that you two got lazy.

It happens right after another one of your father's dinners on a Friday night. He's insisted Joel, Tommy, and Sarah come over, and he'll cook for all of you. But come eleven o'clock, when Tommy and Sarah go home, and then midnight, you and Joel are giving each other guarded glances. And your dad takes on the air of a man who has something to say.

"I should probably head to bed," you say, about to excuse yourself, but your dad asks you to sit.

"You don't have to pretend anymore, honey," your dad says calmly, shaking his head and laughing to himself. But it's not a happy laugh – it's a wounded, ironic kind of grimace he wears as his eyes settle on Joel's.

"And you, Joel? I suppose you're beat after spending the day with my daughter 'helping you out' around the house, huh?" your dad says cuttingly, but he regains his composure quickly.

"I guess I have somethin' to tell you," Joel croaks, trying to swallow but feeling his mouth dry as dirt.

"I guess we both have something to tell you," you add, making Joel jump when your hand slips into his, and you rest them both on the table.

Your dad takes in a sharp breath, steadying himself, and Joel has to say, he's being a fucking man about it. "So go ahead," he murmurs.

"Tell me all about it," he says before raising his hand quickly. "No. Don't tell me all about it. I don't need to know the sordid details... Just tell me when all this started, Joel. You too, hon'," he asks, looking over to you, his eyes filling up with tears before either of you even says a word.

"How could you?" he sniffs bitterly, looking every bit as hurt and betrayed as Joel thought he might, but he's not angry. Not angry at all. Just hurt that you two have been fooling around behind his back and keeping secrets.

You feel upset too and lower your head in shame, but Joel, for one, feels better now that he knows. The burden of the lie has been removed, and he's ready to face the consequences, whatever they may be.

Joel takes a deep breath, his hand tightening around yours. "I've been in love with her since the day she graduated," he tells your father, his voice steady and unwavering.

"Things moved quicker than I thought, and it wasn't until we both knew how much we were in love that it meant hurting you if you knew," Joel explains, not making excuses, but trying to help your dad understand.

Your father is silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "So. You coming all the way out here, for good. All that was just a way to get to her?" he asks, his tone laced with a hint of accusation.

"Don't twist it to make it look like that," Joel retorts, but your dad isn't entirely wrong.

"I meant what I said about helping you, and I still do," Joel reminds him, his voice firm.

"I can give her more than any man half my age, too. Give her a life..." Joel trails off, his words hanging in the air.

The tension in the room is palpable as your dad's anger flares, his words sharp and cutting. "What? Give her a life her father couldn't? She's my fucking daughter, Joel. Who the fuck asked you to help yourself, huh?" he demands, his frustration evident. But you interject, your own voice rising in defense.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Dad. I'm an adult. And I know you've provided for me, always made sure I have everything I need," you assert, your tone firm and unwavering.

"But do you think a woman like me is ever gonna have a guy like Joel just breeze into town, sweep me off my feet, and then let him go?" you challenge defiantly. "Getting eight bucks an hour tutoring part-time and living with my Dad into my old age isn’t the kind of life I had planned for myself."

Joel admires your fire, proud of you for speaking your mind. The air crackles with tension, but at least everyone is having their fair say. Despite the burning bridge, the honesty in the room feels like a weight lifted off your shoulders.

For your dad to take the news without his fists flying, Joel realizes he's matured more gracefully than he would have given him credit for. The pulse of the moment slows, the truth out in the open. No more hiding, but decisions loom ahead that may not be easy.

Your father reflects, a nostalgic air settling around him. "I knew that day of your graduation, sweetheart. And I know you better than you think, Joel," he says, his gaze shifting between the two of you. "I just didn't want to believe it."

"I love her," Joel declares, his voice unwavering. "I'm having his baby, Dad," you begin, the revelation causing a moment of shock between both your dad and Joel, before your laughter breaks the tension.

“You should have seen your faces.” You chuckle a little.

"Honestly, I want to have his kids, Dad. I want us to be together forever. I want to take care of Sarah. House, kids... the whole nine yards," you chime in, relief evident in your voice.

Your father's response is unexpected, a mix of emotions playing across his face. "I know you do, sweetie," he comforts you, a smile creasing his face. "You wanna be the mom you never had. And I guess I just didn't wanna lose the little girl I raised all on my own."

As your father prepares to leave, the moment's weight settles over you all. "I just need time, Joel," he finally says. "Time to get used to all this... Time to get used to not having her around."

The nuclear fallout you both expected never came, not in the way you expected. The night ends with a sense of understanding and acceptance, your father's blessing a silent promise of support and love.

Walking home next door, the weight of the evening hangs heavy in the air. In the quiet of your shared bed, you find solace in Joel's arms, the raw emotion of the moment bringing you closer than ever before. You are crying in his embrace, the tears flowing freely as the tension and relief of the confrontation with your father wash over you.

But it feels just as good to Joel, this shared vulnerability. Sharing the not-so-great times as well as the good times – this is what being with someone is truly all about. The good thing is that you don't have to keep anything secret anymore, and better still, you both have your dad's blessing.

Probably the most important thing for Joel, because without his best friend and the woman he loves, where would he be?

"We good?" you sniffle, rubbing your puffy eyes as you look up at Joel. He lifts your face from his chest, holding you close.

"Oh, we're better than good, darlin'," he smiles back at you. "We're perfect," he tells you, stroking your hair as you lie silent for a long time.

"I love you," you eventually murmur, drifting into a dreamless sleep with a little smile playing on your lips.

"And I love you more," he promises you, kissing your forehead goodnight. He's already waiting for the morning so he can tell you the same again, his heart swelling with the knowledge that you are his, and he is yours, without the need for secrecy or shame.

The weight of the evening has lifted, replaced by a sense of relief and contentment. No longer do you have to tiptoe around, hiding your love and affection. Your father's blessing, though not without its reservations, is a testament to the depth of your connection and the trust he has in Joel to care for you.

As you sleep peacefully in Joel's arms, he can't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude. This woman, this life, is more than he ever dared to dream of. With your father's acceptance, the path ahead is clearer, and Joel is determined to cherish every moment, to build a future that will make you both proud.

As you stir from the depths of slumber, the remnants of a dream linger, tantalizing and vivid. Joel's image flickers in your mind, a hunger burning behind your eyelids, a relentless craving that claws at your senses.

With a slow, drowsy blink, reality floods back, engulfing you in a haze of sensation. Heat coils low in your belly, radiating outward as awareness seeps into every pore. And then you feel it—the intoxicating pressure between your thighs, a languid caress that sends sparks shooting up your spine.

Your gaze drifts downward, heart pounding in your chest as you take in the sight before you. Joel lies beneath the duvet, his form obscured yet unmistakable in the dim light. His rugged features are softened by the shadows, the scruff of his beard grazing your skin like a promise unspoken.

A shiver courses through you as his tongue dances over your slick folds, igniting a firestorm of need that threatens to consume you whole. Your back arches involuntarily, a breathy sigh escaping your lips as pleasure blossoms deep within.

"Joel... fuck..." you moan, the words torn from your throat in a desperate plea for more. His head emerges from beneath the covers, lips glistening with your essence, eyes smoldering with untamed desire.

"You gotta be quiet, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice thick with a southern drawl that sends shivers cascading down your spine. "Might wake the whole house up. Can you do that for me, be a good girl?"

Your heart pounds in your chest, pulse racing as his words wash over you like a wave crashing against the shore. With a nod, you bite down on your lip, a silent promise of compliance as you surrender to the whirlwind of sensation engulfing you.

As Joel's tongue delves deeper, tracing patterns of ecstasy along your sensitive flesh, your senses spiral out of control. Every flick, every swirl sends shockwaves of pleasure cascading through your body, igniting a fierce inferno that threatens to consume you whole.

"Fuck, Joel," you whimper, fingers tangling in the sheets as you surrender to the heady rush of sensation. His touch is electric, setting your nerve endings ablaze with a fervor unlike anything you've ever known.

With a low growl, Joel's lips capture yours in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a passionate dance of desire. His hands roam over your trembling form, tracing the curves of your body with reverent exploration.

"You taste like heaven, darlin'," he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot against your ear. "Gonna make you scream my name until the whole damn house knows who you belong to."

A shudder wracks your body at his words, desire pooling low in your belly as you succumb to the primal urge driving you both. With a wordless plea, you arch into his touch, craving more of him with every fiber of your being.

Joel's fingers slip between your thighs, finding you slick and ready for him. With a wicked grin, he teases your entrance, circling your clit with agonizing slowness before plunging deep inside you with a single, relentless thrust.

"Fuck, yes," you cry out, the words torn from your lips in a breathless plea for more. Joel's pace quickens, each thrust driving you higher and higher until you're teetering on the edge of oblivion.

In the soft glow of morning light streaming through the window, you find yourself tangled in Joel's embrace, limbs intertwined in a mess of sheets and limbs. His chest rises and falls with each breath, the rhythmic cadence a comforting lullaby as you revel in the aftermath of your shared passion.

With a tender sigh, Joel presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle against your feverish skin. "God, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I could spend eternity right here, just like this."

You feel the heat stain your cheeks at his words, warmth flooding your veins at the intensity of his gaze. "I feel the same way," you whisper, fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. "Being with you like this... it's like coming home."

Joel's lips curve into a tender smile, his eyes alight with adoration as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "You're my home, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice a soft rasp that sends shivers dancing down your spine. "And I'll do anything to make sure you feel safe and loved, always."

His words linger in the air, a comforting blanket enveloping you. In Joel's embrace, you discover a sense of peace, a haven amidst life's storms. Here, in this quiet moment, you realize that with Joel beside you, and you're so excited and can't wait to see what happens next.

As the morning sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the breakfast table, you took a deep breath and shared the news with Sarah and Tommy. The revelation of your relationship with Joel and your decision to stay with them while your dad was away for the week hung in the air, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

Sarah's eyes lit up with joy, her enthusiasm palpable as she practically bounced in her seat, devouring her scrambled eggs with gusto. Tommy, ever the observant one, shot you both a sly look that made your cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

You knew you needed to work on being quieter, but it was a challenge when Joel had a way of taking you to heights of pleasure that left you gasping and moaning, unable to contain the sounds of ecstasy that escaped your lips.

The dynamic between the four of you shifted subtly, a new energy crackling in the air as the unspoken tension of your newfound relationship with Joel lingered between bites of toast and sips of coffee. Sarah's infectious excitement was contagious, her chatter filling the room with a sense of camaraderie and shared secrets.

Tommy's knowing glances added a layer of intrigue to the morning, his playful smirk hinting at a deeper understanding of the dynamics at play. You couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at the thought of Joel's touch, his presence a magnetic pull that left you yearning for more, even in the most mundane moments.

As the morning unfolded, the anticipation of the week ahead hung in the air, a mix of uncertainty and excitement swirling around the breakfast table. The unspoken promise of stolen moments and whispered confessions added a layer of tension to the morning routine, turning the mundane into something charged with possibility.

With each passing minute, the weight of your decision to stay with Sarah and Tommy while your dad was away settled over you, a mix of nerves and anticipation building in the pit of your stomach.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape, you found yourself in the midst of a perfect evening with Joel. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze created a soothing backdrop to your shared moment.

Joel's hand in yours felt like a perfect fit, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. The two of you had decided to take a leisurely stroll through the nearby park, the soft grass underfoot adding to the sense of intimacy that enveloped you both.

As you walked side by side, the conversation flowed effortlessly between you, a mix of playful banter and heartfelt confessions that deepened the connection between you. Joel's laughter was like music to your ears, his Texan drawl adding a touch of charm to every word he spoke.

"You know, darlin', I can't get enough of these little moments with you," Joel said, his gaze warm and adoring. "It's like the rest of the world just fades away when I'm with you."

You felt a blush creep across your cheeks, your heart fluttering at his words. "I feel the same way, Joel. Being here with you, it's like everything else just falls away."

The setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a romantic glow over the scene. You couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, his features bathed in the warm light, his eyes reflecting the beauty of the moment.

As you reached a secluded spot by a tranquil pond, Joel's gaze met yours, a silent understanding passing between you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, his touch sending a surge of desire through you. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of shared intimacy.

"I can't get enough of you," Joel murmured, his voice low and husky. "Every moment with you feels like a dream."

You melted into his embrace, the heat of his body searing through you. The air crackled with tension, desire simmering just beneath the surface as you lost yourselves in each other.

The soft rustle of the wind in the trees provided a gentle soundtrack to your shared moment, heightening the sense of intimacy between you. In that perfect moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of Joel's touch, you felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you.

As the evening drew to a close, the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, casting a magical spell over the night. With Joel by your side, you felt like anything was possible, the future stretching out before you like a blank canvas waiting to be painted with the colors of your love.

The stars had begun to twinkle in the darkening sky, lending an enchanted quality to the night. As you and Joel continued your leisurely stroll through the park, hand-in-hand, you couldn't help but be filled with a sense of wonder and possibility.

As if reading your thoughts, Joel squeezed your hand gently, his dimpled smile lighting up his features. "What's got you smiling like that, darlin'?" he asked, his affectionate nickname for you causing a flutter in your heart.

"I don't know," you replied honestly. "I just feel so... happy."

Joel's smile widened at your words. "Me too. Being here with you feels like magic."

You walked in comfortable silence for a while, taking in the sights and sounds around you. The chirping of crickets, the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze, the distant hum of traffic - it all blended together to create a peaceful symphony that added to the romantic atmosphere.

As you reached a small clearing by a pond, Joel guided you towards a bench tucked away under a weeping willow tree. Sitting down beside him, you leaned against his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you.

"This is perfect," he said softly, gazing out at the tranquil water. "Just being here with you under this beautiful sky."

The next few days were a whirlwind of stolen glances and heated touches, the air thick with unspoken desire and anticipation. Every stolen moment with Joel left you breathless, your skin tingling with the promise of what was to come. The thought of your father's imminent return lingered in the back of your mind, but in Joel's arms, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of shared intimacy.

One evening, as you stood side by side in the cozy kitchen, the scent of simmering spices filling the air, Joel's presence was a magnetic pull you couldn't resist. Without warning, he pulled you into his arms, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that left you dizzy with need.

"I've been craving this all day, darlin'," Joel murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin.

A soft giggle escaped your lips, your fingers trailing down the strong lines of his jaw. "You certainly know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?"

Joel's eyes gleamed with mischief, a wicked grin playing on his lips. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what I have in store for you. I'm just gettin’ started."

Before you could respond, Joel scooped you up in his arms, a playful glint in his eyes as he carried you towards the bedroom. Your heart raced with excitement, your arms wrapping around his neck as he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body pressing against yours in a deliciously intimate embrace.

The room was bathed in a soft, golden light, the air heavy with the promise of passion and desire. Joel's touch ignited a fire within you, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that mirrored your own. Every caress, every kiss, sent a jolt of electricity through you, building the tension between you to a fever pitch.

Joel's breath was hot against your skin, his body moving in time with the rhythm of your own desires. He pulled away for a moment, gazing into your eyes, the only source of light in the room casting shadows across his face. "I love you," he whispered, his voice husky with need.

You couldn't respond, lost in the intensity of the moment. Your heart pounded in your chest, matching the throbbing pulse of desire between your legs. With a low growl, Joel moved his lips to yours once more, his tongue probing your mouth with a fierce hunger.

The sound of your labored breaths, mingling with the low growls of desire that escaped his lips. The air grew heavy with anticipation, charged by the electricity that crackled between you. His fingers traced the sensitive skin at the apex of your thighs, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your veins.

The heat radiating from his body, the primal energy pulsing between you. As he pulled you closer, your muscles tensed in anticipation, every cell in your body yearning for the connection.

His lips met yours in a searing kiss, their tongues dancing together in a frenzied tango of need. You could taste the sweetness of desire on his lips, the tang of salt from your tears of pleasure. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory.

You couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement as he spoke those words. You wanted nothing more than to take him into your mouth, venturing into the world of pleasure and sin that awaited you. You opened your mouth, allowing your tongue to dart out and wet your lips in anticipation, his eyes never leaving yours.

He guided his erection towards your mouth, the velvety head brushing against your lips. You opened wider, welcoming his invasion. His eyes darkened, and he groaned as you enveloped the entirety of his shaft in your warm embrace. You began to suck gently, the rhythmic motion of your head creating a wet, slurpy sound as your lips and tongue massaged him.

As he thrust deeper into your mouth, you struggled to breathe, your lungs involuntarily attempting to escape the suffocating embrace of his thick, pulsating member. Yet, you remained steadfast, determined to please him, to satiate his carnal desires.

His animalistic groans echoed in your ears, as though the very walls of the room had begun to quiver in response to his euphoric release. You could feel his veins, now bulging with the ferocity of his climax, vibrate against your sensitive lips and tongue, heightening the already intense sensations coursing through your body.

You could feel his heart pounding wildly, the rhythm syncing with the beats of your own. The room was filled with his scent, musk and sweat, a potent mix that drove you on. Your tongue swirled around his hard length, savoring the taste of him.

His hands gave your head a gentle squeeze, urging you on. His pleasure was your reward, the way his breath hitched and his hips thrust harder. You moved your head in time with his, sucking him deep, keeping a steady rhythm as his release approached.

The sudden tightening of his body spoke of his climax, and you knew you had to continue. Your lips glided up and down his shaft, focusing all your attention on the growing flutters within him.

Finally, he groaned, his release a hot, salty flood that filled your mouth. You swallowed quickly, eager to please him, the taste lingering on your tongue like the first bite of a ripe peach. He pulled away, breathless and flushed, his eyes locked on yours in a silent communion of satisfaction.

“You’re turn, darlin’,” Joel says, his eyes dark and his voice deep as midnight. You feel him grab your hips and begins to devour you, kissing every inch of skin and grabbing your body with an almost primal hunger. The air around you seems to grow thick with desire as you cling to him, your breath catching in your throat. He slides his hands up under your shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine, and you can't help but arch into his touch, moaning softly.

Joel's lips trail down your neck, and you suck in a sharp breath as his teeth gently scrape against your delicate skin. A warm flush spreads across your body, and you feel yourself growing bolder, more willing with each passing moment. He bites down gently, leaving a mark that matches the one he gave you days ago, and you shudder with pleasure.

His lips explore every part of your body, getting closer and closer to your core. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his desire for you palpable in his every touch. The pace quickens as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently, a possession claim of sorts. Your breath hitches, your heart pounding in your chest, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

His hands, strong and calloused, graze the soft skin at the nape of your neck, expertly unfastening the delicate clasp of your dress. It falls to the ground, pooling around your ankles, leaving you exposed in just a lace-edged bra and matching underwear. 

Simultaneously, his hands slide beneath your underwear, his fingers exploring, tracing patterns and leaving trails of fire on your skin. He pauses, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze fierce and unyielding. In that moment, you feel a connection, a bond that transcends physical desire. It's more than just lust; it's passion, raw and unbridled.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, skin against skin, and moans of pleasure, creating a symphony of desire that drowns out any other noise.

The air is heavy with the scent of sweat and musk, a heady mixture that serves to heighten the sensual atmosphere. The lingering scent of scented candles adds a touch of sweetness to the mix.

You can't take it anymore. The anticipation, the desire, it's all too much. Your body is on fire, begging for release. And Joel knows it.

"Fuck, Joel, please," you whine, your hips grinding against his in desperation.

He chuckles darkly, his lips grazing against your neck. "Alright, baby," he murmurs, and before you know it, he has entered you.

His cock slides into your weeping hole with ease; you're slick and wet from both arousal and anticipation. You gasp at the feeling of him filling you up completely, every inch of him stretching you in all the right ways.

Joel's movements are slow and deliberate at first, as if savoring every moment. But soon enough, the pace quickens as he pounds into you with a primal need. 

Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, each thrust sending shivers of pleasure through you.

Moans and gasps escape your lips uncontrollably as Joel hits all the right spots within you. Every touch feels like electricity coursing through your veins; every kiss like a fire burning between you two.

Your fingers grip onto his back desperately as he brings you closer to the edge. Your moans become louder and more frantic as your body tenses with impending release.

With one final thrust, Joel pushes both of you over the edge into pure ecstasy. Your bodies tremble together as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. You cling onto each other tightly as powerful orgasms rock through your bodies.

As you come down from your high, Joel pulls out of you gently and collapses beside you on the bed. Your breathing is heavy and labored as both of your hearts beat in sync.

Joel pulls a blanket over both of your naked bodies before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close to him. You snuggle into his chest contentedly, feeling more satisfied and loved than you ever have before.

The sunlight streams in through the window, casting a warm glow over your tangled bodies. You stir, slowly coming to consciousness as the events of last night flood back to you.

Your eyes flutter open and you find yourself staring into Joel's deep brown gaze. He smiles at you, his fingers still tracing soothing patterns on your skin.

"I love you," he says, his words soft and sincere. 

The sound of his voice is filled with love and emotion, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You smile and snuggle closer to him, basking in the warmth of his love. It's a feeling like no other, one that fills you with happiness and contentment.

As you lay there together in peaceful silence, memories of how the two of you came to be fill your mind. And it was the best decision either of you had ever made.

"I can't imagine my life without you," Joel whispers, breaking the silence between you two.

Tears prick at your eyes at his words. You feel overwhelmed with emotion - gratefulness for having someone like him in your life and overwhelming love for him.

"I feel the same way," you reply honestly, turning to look into his eyes once again. "I never want to lose you."

Joel leans in and kisses you gently, sealing his promise with actions rather than words. And as your lips move against each other's in a sweet embrace, all doubts fade away.

This is real and true love; a connection that goes beyond physical attraction or fleeting emotions.

It was a connection that defied reason and logic, a force that could not be contained or explained. It was a love that knew no boundaries and bloomed in every corner of their being, the sweetest melody that echoed in their hearts with every beat.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader series #joel miller x reader tlou #joel miller x original character #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x y/n #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #the last of us rewrite #the last of us

[jillsandwhichs]

Got called zionist / genocide supporter pretty recently because I enjoy the video game series, The Last of Us. So enjoy this rant!

If you like a video game series, such as The Last of Us and you enjoy the story, gameplay, characters, locations, enemies, atmosphere, horror, action & etc, then that is great! You are allowed to enjoy whatever it is you like! But I've been seeing people claim you're a zionist/genocide supporter if you like them because Neil Drunkman said some untasteful things as to what inspired him to create the games.

Listen closely, and I mean listen, NO 👏🏻 ONE 👏🏻 PLAYS 👏🏻 TLOU 👏🏻 FOR 👏🏻 THE 👏🏻 REASONINGS 👏🏻 NEIL 👏🏻 STATED 👏🏻.

Throwing out accusations that someone is a zionist/supports genocide is absolutely disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourselves if you believe that. People this days... 🤦🏻‍♀️

#the last of us #tlou #ellie williams #joel miller #tlou2 #abby anderson #dina woodward #tlou game #resident evil #jill valentine #chris redfield #valenfield #tumblr fyp

[jodielandons]

STORM REID accepts the Emmy for Guest Actress in a Drama Series for The Last of Us at the 75th Creative Arts Emmy Awards

#storm reid #emmys 2024 #tloucastedit #tlou #the last of us #tlou hbo #femalestunning #femaledaily #femalegifsource #userwocs #userzonez #tusermimi #dailywoc #wocedit #pocedit #flawlessbeautyqueens #cinemapix #emmys #my gifs

[ayo-edebiri]

PEDRO PASCAL for Actors on Actors (2023)

#ppascaledit #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #actors on actors #byaurore #userallisyn #tlounetwork #userbbelcher #nessa007 #noalook #tuserrobin #tuserrachel #tuserpris #the last of us #tuserlyn #tusercora #usersugar #tusernicky #tuserpolly #userconstance

[stevenrogered]

Nick Offerman wins Best Supporting Performance in a New Scripted Series at the Spirit Awards for "The Last of Us."

#nick offerman #nickoffermanedit #tlou #tlouedit #the last of us #spirit awards #mystuff #mine: awards #1k #5k

[a7estrellas]

#🥺

PEDRO PASCAL & BELLA RAMSEY attends the Los Angeles FYC Event for the HBO Original Series' "The Last of Us"

#pedro pascal #bella ramsey #appearances #the last of us #hbo the last of us #pedropascaledit #ppascaledit #tlouhboedit #tloucastedit #underbetelgeuse #my heart!!!

[figmentof]

I used to hate the world and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong, because there was one person worth saving. That’s what I did. I saved him.

#The Last of Us #thelastofusedit #tlouedit #thelastofushboedit #tloudaily #tlounetwork #Bill x Frank #Bill and Frank #BillFrank #figmentofedit #happy national Bill and Frank day 😭 #6k

[believeripley]

Just Tommy Miller enjoying watching his nieces give his brother shit.

#pedro pascal #bella ramsey #joel ellie #joel miller #the last of us #tlou #ellie williams #tlou spoilers #nico parker #sarah miller #tommy miller #gabriel luna #the last of us hbo

[pedrohub]

Pedro Pascal Characters + 🛐

#the mandalorian #the unbearable weight of massive talent #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedropascaledit #ppascaledit #userconstance #tuserpolly #usermandie #useraurore #userallisyn #arthurpendragonns #gifs #ours #cora #the mandalorion spoilers

[trashcora]

the holy trinity of Joel Miller yelling 😌

☞ requested by anonymous

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #tlou #ppascaledit #pedropascaledit #tlouhboedit #tlounetwork #hbotlou #xuserannie #tusermarissa #userfanni #tusernicky #tuserpolly #userconstance #usermandie #useraurore #userallisyn #arthurpendragonns #*edits

[ayo-edebiri]

Congratulations The Last Of Us for their Emmys 2023 nominations!!

#the last of us #tlouedit #byaurore #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #userbbelcher #tlounetwork #userallisyn #tuserrachel #tuserrobin #tuserlyn #userchelsea #useranimusvox #tuserpolly #nessa007 #noalook #usersavana #usersugar #emmys #emmys 2023 #this took forever i'm gonna take a nap <3

[kiwisbell]

Honey-Do [joel miller]

It’s Sunday, chore day, and Joel has a honey-do list item of his own: get his girl pregnant.

my masterlist!

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags and warnings: pre-outbreak joel, married!joel, pure fluff and smut, slight au, body worship, some cock worship, handyman!joel, malewife!joel, joel “my wife doesn’t lift a finger in this home” miller, vague daddy undertones, overstimulation, joel miller is a munch, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected PIV (wrap it up unless you’re joel), creampie, breeding kink, actual breeding, talks of pregnancy, pregnancy kink, domestic bliss, joel’s love language being acts of service and by that i mean putting a baby in his wife, competence kink

word count: ~ 10k (someone stop me)

read on ao3!

a/n: hello, lovelies!! i received this ask ages ago and the idea inevitably snowballed because who is self-control?? does she go to a different school? anyway, this fic is pure plotless domestic fluff and domestic smut (is that a thing? yes!), so i really hope you all enjoy! pre-outbreak joel is very special to me xoxo

HONEY-DO

Your shared bedroom looks out over the eastern sunrise. A mutually-assured vigil, keeping one another safe—and timely. 

In the mornings, the golden light spills through the break in the curtains. It will peek slowly inside and gently warm your body awake, testing the limits of its power. When you roll over and make a soft groan of protest in your sleep, seeking more warmth, the little strip of sunlight will widen, directing you. You will find the body next to yours, nuzzling close, your nose bumping his bare chest, and settle happily against it. In return, his body will seek yours, symbiotic exchange, a greedy arm pulling you closer.

In frustration, the sun grumbles it way higher in the sky, shining brighter and spreading wider.

It takes a couple tries to get it right: to shine in just the right way to make you blink rapidly awake, squinting in the glow. You gradually come to life, your lungs sucking in the first deep breath of morning air, your naked body stretching like a cat in the sunspot. Dust hovers lazily in the air, heralding a Sunday occupied by chores. The room is still, silent, and kissed by morning rays. Peaceful.

You examine him in the light: tanned skin sparkling gold, plush lips slightly parted, broad chest rising and falling. His hair is pleasantly tousled from sleep. There are patches of silver beginning to thread through his dark brown beard, and in your self-sustaining state of affection, you gently put your lips to one of the patches of skin where hair does not grow. 

Your persistence grows with every second he refuses to wake. It may be a bit petulant, your lips smattering soft kisses across his jaw, beneath his ear, down to his neck and all its veins, but it begins to work. He stirs, groaning softly, turning onto his side and wrapping both arms around your waist. He does all of this without opening his eyes, resting his head on your belly and nuzzling against you as if he could get any closer—sated, for now, his body knowing nothing but the pull toward you. 

You comb your fingers through his messy hair and listen to him breathe while he listens to your heartbeat. 

“It’s ten,” you whisper.

“Hmph,” he says against your belly. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet; if you didn’t know his breathing patterns like they were mapped out in the lines of your palms, you would think he’s still sleeping. 

“We slept in,” you point out. 

Joel gently bumps his forehead into your stomach as if he were banging his head against a wall. “Shit,” he grumbles. 

You laugh as his moustache tickles your skin. “Do you want to get up now?”

Another grunt, accompanied by a shake of his head. Big, strong arms pull you closer. 

“I’ll make you breakfast,” you coo, stroking his hair away from his face. “Eggs… bacon… coffee…”

Joel presses his lips to your belly. “Don’t go takin’ my job, now,” he says, his voice groggy with disuse. “No girl of mine’s gonna run around gettin’ her own damn coffee.”

“Hmm. Means you have to move, Romeo.” 

This earns a playful smack to the side of your thigh, his big, callused hand kneading your flesh while he wakes himself up with mouthfuls of your scent—linen and vanilla—and gulps down the sunlight glowing on your skin. 

“Never mind,” you sigh, dreamy and complacent under his attention. 

His eyes finally crack open, peering up at you, honey-brown pools touched by the golden light. He rests his chin on your belly and keeps his arms wrapped around your hips. His fingers trace shapes up and down your lower back. “You got a honey-do list?” he asks with a crooked grin.

Your tongue wets your bottom lip. “That depends. Can I get you to mow the lawn without a shirt on?”

“What do I get if I do?” he teases, his hand moving to your hip, contouring his hand to the shape of you. 

You lift a brow, easing your legs apart underneath his body, letting him feel the warmth between your thighs. Like a moth to the goddamn flame, his eyes wide and eager, Joel crawls down your body with his mouth on your belly. Pausing just above your naked cunt, he blows cool air onto your clit and watches you squirm. 

“After,” you gasp. “After chores, honey. We’ll never get up if we start now.”

“Don’t think I can make my woman come in good time?” he challenges, his palms keeping your thighs spread. Your pretty pussy glistens before his eyes, better than any fuckin’ breakfast. He begins to salivate.

Your head falls back into the pillows. “I never said that.”

Joel isn’t listening anymore. He kneads your thighs as he peers at you above your belly, your tits, to the curve of your jaw as you lie comfortably. Good. His baby ain’t about to get herself worked up on a Sunday morning. 

He lowers his face just enough to let you feel his lashes tickling your lower belly, and you giggle his name, the sound pure adrenaline to his blood. You're so soft and supple under his fingers, moulding to his touch, letting him take care of you. You may be in charge of him, but this is where he takes control. 

He presses a soft kiss to your clit and you sigh, your head turning toward the direction of the sun. It warms your face while your husband slides his tongue through your wet slit, lazily and sleepily, as though he's operating on instinct alone. Gathering up your wetness on his tongue, he groans, his fingers dimpling your thighs. 

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he murmurs. “Fuckin’ made for me.”

“Oh, God,” you whisper, your eyes fluttering. “Baby…”

That sweet little whine is poison. He cannot do anything but continue to drink you down, flicking his tongue against your clit. He's a sucker and he's always been. Your pretty fuckin’ smile from across the bar that first night; your tight black dress and the too-sweet cocktail you smooth-talked him into ordering that had his adenoids prickling; your instinct for sensing others’ troubles and your uncanny ability to make them feel like they have none at all. He never stood a chance. 

He knows for a goddamn fact every man in the bar that night wanted to do to you what Joel is doing now: lapping up your juices with his tongue, spit mingling with arousal, warming his body between your thighs under the watch of the mid-morning sun. But he got you. Joel. He bought you a drink and he took you on a date. He got to taste your pretty pussy and he got to sit you on his dick—after the second date, that is. 

He's the one who gets to wake up with you, share matching gold bands around your fingers, kiss you freely. As far as he's concerned, he's the luckiest guy on the fuckin’ planet. 

He feels particularly green when your back arches, your lips parting around his name, relishing in the feeling of his mouth on your clit. You're unashamed to take pleasure, never shy about telling him Oh, fuck, yes! Right there, honey! Joel, yes, that feels so good, baby. 

Joel preens with pride. His hot tongue glides over your clit, smooth and wet, easily coaxing you to a languid high. The golden spotlight through the curtains shines on you. You're the starlet and he's the adoring fan. From the first day, he knew he'd do anything to make you notice him. 

“This wasn’t your first bar fight, was it?”

Plucking pieces of glass out of his bloodied knuckles, you looked up through your lashes at Joel, who had been staring at you since you sat him down in the bathroom. Okay—a little longer than that. 

He shook his head. 

You just smiled at him and gently shook your head. About as much reproach as he would get. “This might sting. Just hold on tight if you need to.” 

“Like the sound of that,” he said quietly, and if you heard, you didn't comment. You guided his hand under the warm water and washed the rest of the blood from his knuckles, gently smoothing the pads of your fingers over his rough worker’s hands. Capable, you thought, idly watching the blood swirl into the drain. He barely winced when you put his hand under. 

“Wanna tell me why you did it?” you asked him, your tone soothing and sweet. 

Joel shrugged. Big, broad shoulders. Humbly strong, until someone made him show it. “Ain't manly to touch a woman like that.”

You lifted your brows. “But it's manly to beat the shit out of the guy who touched her?”

Joel studied your face. Cherry-red lip gloss. Gently flushed cheeks from a healthy couple drinks. The instinctual rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, the lighting shifting gently over your collarbones. It was fascinating just to watch you breathe. Even cleaning his bloody knuckles, you slowly circled the pad of your thumb over the back of his hand, like an innate urge to comfort. Your eyes had an old wisdom to them; a particular gleam a person gained when they were familiar with the hardships life had to offer. 

He wanted to ask you. He wanted to know everything. He wanted to do more than beat up some asshole who thought he could get away with pinching your ass. 

But he would earn it. A real man earned what he got. 

“Didn’t beat the shit out of him. Just roughed him up,” he says. 

He watched you bite down on a smile. “You're a little twisted, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, eyes flicking to your dewy lips, coated with that gloss. “Think so?”

“Yeah.” You licked your bottom lip and he wondered if you tasted like cherries. “But I'm going to ask you on a date anyway.”

Your fingers curl in Joel’s messy hair, making him groan into your pussy. “Oh, baby,” you gasp, cracking your heavy eyes open to watch him lap at you, practically petting his hair away from his face as his big brown eyes remain fixed to yours. 

He purrs, suckling your clit between his lips, his eyes eagerly drinking in the sight of your flushed, tightening body. Making you come is one thing. Watching it is another. Your back arches and your fingers pull on his hair. Scalp prickling, Joel grips your thighs tighter. He’d let you peel away pounds of his flesh if it made you happy. He’d go eagerly to the grave knowing he had put some good into the world, put some light in your eyes. 

“Joel, I’m… I’m coming—ah!” you cry, your thighs squeezing his head, your sensitive clit pulsing under his tongue as your pussy contracts around itself, seeking something nice and big to grasp onto. His cock is aching, his hips grinding idly against the mattress for relief, his head fuzzy from the pleasure of making you feel good. Your body slowly melts into the bed, your limbs twitching as the tension in your muscles loosens, your lips parted permanently around his name. 

Eyes drooping and teary, you try to find him between your thighs, gently stroking his hair away from his face as it begins to fall into his big brown eyes. “Need a haircut,” you croak.

Joel hums, his head listing to the side, using your soft thigh as a pillow. He nips you playfully, your skin a golden path he intends to follow to the end. His hands caress your hips, helping you come down to Earth. You admire the delectable convex slope of his nose, the way it curves deliciously against your skin when he kisses, bites, inhales. He’s freckled and indented with the signifiers of a lived-in life; a good life. His is a likeness you could trace with your eyes closed. 

It’s eleven o’clock, and your stomach begins to grumble. 

Joel chuckles, pressing a long kiss to your belly. “Gettin’ up now,” he says. “Promise.”

He pulls on a pair of sweatpants, tucking his hard cock away to be dealt with later. Padding down the stairs, Joel is quick to tend to your needs, putting on a fresh pot of coffee. After so long together, his mind operates on autopilot, steering him from the cupboard to the refrigerator and back to the steaming pot, occupied with the menial task of making a good cup. The gentle clinking scrape of the spoon as he stirs your milk into the cup wakes him up until he feels practically revitalised. He keeps his coffee black.

He hears the soft tread of your feet behind him, feels the warmth of your body as you crowd his space, smiles at the way you smooth your palms over the planes of his muscled back in unadulterated admiration. His shoulders are wide, tapering down to the soft belly you’ve nurtured through years of cooking. He’s sturdy and strong and all yours. The sight of him always makes you a bit giddy. 

“So handsome,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your face between his shoulder blades. The buffed claws of his woodsy pine scent hook into the spaces between your ribs. 

Joel lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the wedding band on your finger, the engagement ring above it. “Sit down, baby. Coffee’s ready.”

You grin against his back, nudging your nose into his tanned skin. “Mmm. That sounds good. But I wanna stay here. ‘s nice and warm.” 

“Girl of my dreams,” Joel murmurs, reaching around his back and patting your ass. “C’mon, I’ll keep you warm.”

You grumble your way to the little circular table in the kitchen, tucked into the alcove at the front window. It’s a souvenir from your parents' garage sale when they decided to sell their home and move to Austin. As a girl, you’d draw, scratch, and paint on that table, endlessly entertaining yourself by marking things up. Even now, there are remnants of your childhood in the worn grooves and chipped varnish. It fits nicely into your home, perfectly suited to two. It could even fit one more. 

You ruminate as you watch Joel carry two mugs to the table. He knows which cup is your favourite: green ceramic decorated with tiny flowers, perfectly contoured to the shape and size of your hands, warming your palms just nicely between sips. Joel’s mug shows its age: white but slightly yellowed from years of use, bigger than yours. The steam of the coffee gently curls into the air, a dance of silvery ribbons in lock-step. They twist together as you purse your lips and blow. The rich, smooth caramel hue of your coffee contrasts the tar-black of Joel’s. 

Since you dragged yourself out of bed on shaky legs, you shrugged on the navy T-shirt he tossed aside last night to give his greedy wife access to his chest. You'd carved some decent marks into his skin, now that you're properly looking: tiny bruises sharpening to purple, faint pinkish scratch marks that you don't remember making. 

“Baby, I don’t mind,” he says, watching you scan his chest with a frown creasing your brow. 

“But it looks painful, honey. You should let me—”

“You don’t gotta do anything,” says Joel, “‘cept come over here.”

Your brows lift coyly, your body sliding out of the chair and into his lap, legs bracketing his strong thighs. His hand finds a home on your lower back, bunching the hem of his shirt up to find your ass bare, your wet cunt sitting nice and pretty on his hard cock. You gasp when the generous length meets your puffy clit with heavy pressure. “Joel…” 

Your voice is a mere whimper, a soft little plea for more, or for mercy. Joel’s always had better restraint than you. 

“Warmer now?” he asks, like a real arrogant asshole, slipping his hand under the shirt on your body and splaying his fingers over your ribcage, thumb grazing the underside of your breast. 

You do feel warmer, crushed up against him like this. You reach behind you and grab your coffee mug, taking a small sip. Your other hand winds around his neck and scratches the tousled hair at the nape of his neck. Joel hums, leaning close, nuzzling his face between your tits. 

“Gimme the list,” he says, voice muffled. 

You keep on stroking his hair and drinking your coffee between list items. “Mow the lawn. Clean out the eavestrough. Fix the sink.”

“Hmm, easy work,” he says, his other hand sliding up and down your back. It makes you melt into him even more, giving him the chance to tease a nipple between his teeth through the fabric of your shirt. You huff, wiggling your hips, but he's a brick wall. He does not budge. “Gimme yours, baby.”

You recall the items on your own list. “Vacuum the house. Go for groceries. Touch up the paint on the front door. Do the laundry. Cook dinner. Cut your hair,” you add with a playful smile. 

Joel frowns against your chest, pulling back to look up into your eyes like a grumpy, needy dog. “You put all that down for yourself?”

You try to placate him with a kiss on his nose. “You work so hard, sweetie. I could use some hard labour once in a while.”

Joel shakes his head. “You aren’t doin’ all that by yourself.”

“No?” You lift your brows. “Wanna buy it off me, Mr. Miller?”

“I’ll win ‘em from you,” he says, tilting his head back to kiss your jaw. “Name the price.”

You bite your lip and chase his mouth, plush and soft under that dark moustache. “I’ll think on that. Meantime, you can get to work on that lawn while I watch from the comfort of the front porch. That sound fair?”

Joel’s old Southern values rear up every now and then, imparted by his mother and his father’s mother before. Putting in an honest day’s work will make his wife comfortable and happy. He doesn't want you lifting a finger around this home if he's perfectly capable of doing the job himself. He works with his hands all day, gets dirty and sweaty. You shouldn't have to—not when you work so damn hard every other day of the week. 

Joel nips your chin. “Fine. But I ain’t gonna forget that I owe you.”

“Wouldn't dream of it, baby.”

Joel finishes his coffee, but you take your time with yours, changing into a short blue sundress while Joel, regrettably, puts a pair of jeans and a shirt on. Curling your legs up on the porch swing, you watch your man start the lawnmower, enthralled by the rippling of his back muscles with every pull. You know that some of it’s for show—knowing you're watching makes him want to impress you. Sometimes, he's still the man with the teenaged crush on the girl, doing everything he can and going out of his way to make you smile. It works. 

He’s methodical: making lines up and down the lawn, shearing away the too-long blades of grass under the motor. As sweat begins to bloom under his collar and his brow, he wipes his forehead with his forearm and you lick your lips, saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of running your tongue all over his strong, naked body. Jesus. You finish off your coffee and force your eyes away from your husband for a moment. It isn't too hot from where you sit on the wraparound porch, but your chest feels sticky. 

You rush inside to fill up a glass of water for him, hastily scrubbing your mug clean and putting it back in the cupboard. Maybe you should be occupying yourself with your chores today; you worry nothing will get done if you continue to watch him work in the Texas sun. 

He’s just finishing when you shoulder your way back outside, his neck glistening with sweat and golden noon-hour light, warm and tempting. You set the glass on the railing and wait for him to come your way, squeezing your thighs together as your eyes trail up and down his body. 

He's always been a capable man, broad and tall—so good at his job that he was offered a promotion after a few months. But it isn't just his strength or his doggedness when it comes to getting his work done. It's the way he’s so eager to finish things, to check off the items on your list, to please you. He frowns at the idea of you doing too much work. He parades you around town with a puffed-up chest, as if to announce, This is my wife. I’m her husband and I’m fucking proud. He takes your pleasure so seriously that it feels like a competitive sport—always outdoing himself, always striving for more. He loves selflessly, and yet he loves just selfishly enough to make sure the world knows you're his. 

He’ll be a good daddy.  

You glance down at your belly and let yourself picture it: swollen and round, ballooning big enough to fit a new life inside. You imagine smoothing your hand over a growing bump, Joel’s warm palms feeling the undulating kicks of a little baby inside, half of him and half of you. You picture back aches and swelling feet and insatiable cravings and expended energy. And not a part of it deters you. Not a speck of your willpower wavers, the way it would have mere months ago. 

Something has changed. It may have been gradual and it may have been sudden. But it's new, all the same. It’s been this way since a week ago, when you looked in your nightstand at your little pink pill organiser labelled by weekday, and decided: No more.

Watching Joel make his way back to you, shielding his eyes from the light, you idly place your hand on your belly. Something new. A welcome change, you think, to have someone new sitting at our little table. 

Joel climbs up the steps to the porch and gulps down the glass of water. “Thank you, baby,” he says, wiping his mouth. Your lips part as if to taste the air around him, to chew, to savour, relishing the richness. 

Your pupils expand, taking in more of him, and Joel notices, placing a rough hand over yours where it rests on your belly. “You’re lost in thought, honey. Wanna tell me what's in that pretty head?”

“Just…” Your tongue wets your bottom lip. “Thank you for doing that. I know it's a big job.”

“Ain’t nothin’,” says Joel, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Got any idea how I can win those chores off you?”

Hands grasping your hips, sliding over your sweat-slick spine, saccharine noises slipping from your throat onto your tongue and out into the open air. Fingers imprinting permanent fixtures into your ribs. The heady weight of his big, fat cock wrenching you open, as it always does, slow until it isn't anymore. Desperation kicking in, a switch flipped, pummeling and brutal and unforgiving. Uncompromising. Hips pressed flush to your ass, nothing spilling out. Not a drop. 

Everything sealed in tight as promises are exchanged as whispers in the dark. 

“I want you to put a baby in me.”

All right. You could have been more delicate about it. Not precisely how you wanted to approach the topic, but it seems to get the job done. 

Looking down at you, Joel slowly lowers the empty glass, mouth opening as he searches for words. “What?”

There’s no point in shyness or hesitation. You know your body, your mind, your heart. You thread your fingers through Joel’s and let them stay connected over your stomach. “I want you to give me a baby, Joel Miller,” you say softly, your gaze locked to his. “That's my price.”

Joel swallows thickly, his mouth still gaping. “I heard you,” he rasps. “Just… you… you mean it?”

You try not to melt over the tone of his voice: low, bordering on desperate, wanting. There’s hunger in the sound of it. “We’ve talked about it,” you offer, conciliatory. “Lots of times.”

“Yeah, we have.” Joel steps closer, his eyes dipping from your eyes to your mouth, your throat and collarbones, to your belly. His hand flexes. “You gotta be sure. You gotta know it's what you want.”

You cup his face and give him your best smile. It's the sort of smile he remembers from the very first night you met. The sort of person who is unashamed to show their joy on their face. “Honey, I want it all with you.” Your fingers squeeze his. “We’ve waited so long and I don’t want to wait anymore.”

His ears are ringing. All Joel can do is sweep you into his arms and grin into your throat, his hand firm on the back of your head, curling around a fistful of hair. “Girl of my fuckin’ dreams,” he mumbles against your skin. “I’ll make you a momma. Give you just what you want. Everything you want.”

As you close your eyes and open your ears to his ramblings, your erratic heartbeat settles. Serenity finds the pair of you, locked together on your front porch, and the next part of your life begins. 

“Don’t think this gets us out of doing chores,” you tease. 

“You aren’t gonna lift a goddamn finger,” says Joel fiercely, his lips still littering kisses all over your neck. “You’re havin’ a baby.”

“Honey, I’m not pregnant yet,” you laugh. “I don't need to get all lazy right away.”

“Yeah, you do, and you will. I’m gonna make you the laziest momma in Texas,” says Joel, smiling into your throat, the scratch of his moustache making you dizzy with laughter. “Gonna look so fuckin’ beautiful with a baby in you. Gonna glow like a goddamn firefly. Shit, we need to paint the spare room. I need to build a crib, get time off work—”

“Joel,” you coo, scratching your nails up and down the back of his neck. “We’ll have time to do all of that.”

He pulls back to look down at you, eyes so buttery-soft in the shade of the porch that you impulsively reach for his cheek and run your fingers through his patchy beard. “What’s next on my list?” he asks, holding you around the waist. 

You tap your fingers gently against his cheek as you recite each item over again. Joel’s arms tighten, pulling you closer, pupils widening. 

“And then what?” he says gruffly.  

You beam, and he's so fucking in love that he may keel over, doubled by the intensity of his affection. “And then, you're going to take me to bed and put a baby in me.”

This phenomenon should be studied: how quickly Joel Miller speeds through his chores when he has enough incentive. The anticipation of bending you over on the mattress and wringing every drop of cum from his balls until your stomach swells drives each flick of his hand as he touches up the forest-green paint on the front door, weathered slightly by morning sunlight over the years. The image of his hips pressed flushed to you as he grinds deep, spilling his cum into your womb and forcing it to take, motivates every turn of the steering wheel as he drives you to the grocery store in his clunky Chevy. 

He’ll need to drive to Benny’s, get the suspension fixed up; no way in hell he's going to let his pregnant wife sit on the old bench of a bumpy pickup truck, not with the speed bumps dotting the neighbourhood. At least there's a good preschool nearby. He pictures taking his baby to school and he preemptively feels the inevitable first swoop of dread into his gut knowing he'll have to watch his little girl disappear behind those doors. He knows, somehow, that it’ll be a girl. There's not a doubt in his mind. 

“What are you thinkin’ about?” you ask him, playing with his fingers as he holds your thigh. Joel is a great driver; he steers so easily, one palm sliding smoothly over the wheel, his eyes alert and his speed under control. It’s a little sexy, and it makes you antsy from where you sit on the bench. Sure, there are chores to do and there’s dinner to make, but it’s getting harder to push your innate needs to the back of your mind. You don't know if you can wait all day to get him inside you. 

“Names,” he says. “Got lots of ideas.”

“Yeah? Fire away.” 

“Well, I like Eleanor. Good, strong, classic name, y’know? Little wordy, maybe. Then there's Mary, Marie, Hannah, and I can tell you don't like any of ‘em,” he finishes with a laugh, squeezing your thigh. Your silence has always been a tell.

“They're very sweet names,” you concede, “but they don't feel like my baby.” 

Joel’s hand slides up to your belly and warms you beneath your dress. “Maybe we’ll feel it,” he says, “when we make her.”

“Think it’ll happen on the first try?” you wonder aloud, watching the scenery whiz by outside. It's a sunny, temperate day for Austin. You think about taking your baby for a walk, lounging lazily in a stroller while you say words that fall on deaf ears, but will resonate in due time nonetheless. You think about a little girl that will cling hard to her daddy’s leg when she gets scared of the storms outside, the way you did when you were little. You think about long nights shushing your sweet baby girl to sleep, about those same nights spent nestled into Joel’s body, the three of you dozing idly on the sofa. A unit. 

“If it doesn’t, I’ll just have to try again.” You watch his fingers creep back down between your legs and snap the waistband of your panties. 

You smack his hand. “If you keep playin’, Mr. Miller, you're gonna have to take me right here, in this truck. You want to give your wife a bad back?”

Joel grunts, patting your thigh. “Dirty play.”

“That's what I thought.”

Back at home, Joel vacuums the house while you manage, some-fuckin’-how, to convince him to let you do the laundry. He fishes debris and runoff out of the eavestrough, then gets down on his bad knees to tighten the plumbing underneath the sink. 

“Let me help, sweetie. At least hand you a wrench or something. You'll hurt your back again.”

“I got it,” he grunts from under the sink. “Just a loose pipe. I’m peachy.”

You just sigh and let him carry on, the stubborn bastard. When he stands, the job done, he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, and you get a generous glimpse of his belly, the trail of dark hair directing your gaze down, down—

“Joel?” you squeak, wringing your hands together. 

He drops the shirt back over his abdomen and steps closer. “Yeah, baby?”

“Are you, um… Are you hungry?” 

He understands the particular glint in your eye, the telltale widening of your pupils, the hollow of your throat dipping as you swallow, your lashes fluttering gently. Blood surges down to his cock and it begins to fill out his jeans at the thought of taking what he's waited for all day. “No,” he says, licking his bottom lip. You eye every minute movement with meticulous precision. “Think dinner can wait.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” you say, crowding him and tugging at the hem of his shirt. He watches you prowl slowly toward him, gaze locked to the heady pull of your eyes. His cock twitches with a vested interest in the body now pressed up against him. Joel cannot look away from the siren now calling him to sea. 

“That so?” he rasps, bunching the fabric of your dress so it rides up your hip and gives him a good look at your panties. “You dressed up all pretty today. For me?”

You're as coy as a flirtatious schoolgirl, trailing your fingers up and down his muscled bicep. “Always for you.”

“That’s right, baby. You like me lots, don't you?”

“Mmm, I do,” you purr, your hand sliding up his abdomen to his chest, admiring the hard planes of his strong body. “So handsome, strong, generous…” You get lost in your exploration, eyes dipping to his throat, your lips instinctively seeking the delectable vein that pulses with every beat of his heart. “Such a good man. Gonna be such a good daddy.”

Joel’s breath shudders out of him when he feels your soft, warm mouth on his neck, indulging in the taste of him. “Jesus,” he croaks, gripping your hips hard. “Jesus, honey, you gotta go easy on me. Lemme take it slow—”

—or I swear to God, I’ll blow a load in my jeans. 

“You wanna undress me?” you say, like a real fucking tease, pulling away and tugging playfully at the straps of your dress. Joel’s nostrils flare, and he’s walking you back into the wall, cupping the back of your head to protect it, and slanting his mouth over yours. 

He’s salty with the sweat that drips from his temples and he still smells of fresh-cut grass. He’s all Joel, all yours, the first gulp of air you breathe in when you wake and the last sigh you exhale before you sleep. 

You moan into his mouth as he parts your lips and dips his tongue between them to taste yours. You taste like mint and coffee and he clutches you tighter, wrinkling the fabric of your pretty little dress in his fist. The sunlight filters through the windows, intrusive, bleeding into the moment as if taking a snapshot. Joel kisses you so deeply that your throat feels stained with the gasps of breath you exchange. 

You're sweet enough that it makes him ache, bending your back to fit you to him, craving more. Closeness is not enough—he needs possession. 

Joel’s kisses are bruising, unforgiving, merciless, but they are also slow, careful. He isn't sloppy; he does precisely what must be done to get you riled. And when he breaks away, his forehead resting against yours, you tug his hair with a pitiful whine. 

“I wasn't done,” you tell him. 

Joel pouts, mocking. Fingers pull at the straps of your dress until you're watching it pool at your feet. His big hands find your tits immediately, squeezing out all his frustrations, tweaking your nipples and lowering his mouth to your throat. 

Your fingers curl into his hair, glueing him to you while he marks your throat, sucking blood to the surface, retribution for the hickeys all over his chest. His warm palms explore your tits the way he likes, and you curve into him, giving him all the access he wants. “Joel, honey—”

Your voice is nectar, warmth from a fire on the Fourth of July, the stomach-cramping laughter around the flame. Joel groans, blindly searching for your hand with his face still nuzzled in your throat, sucking a particularly aggressive bruise that you’ll scold him for later. But he threads his fingers through yours and feels the cool kiss of your twin wedding bands, and your sweet, wispy sighs have him grinding absently against your thigh. You don't have half the mind to get mad at him for a goddamn thing. 

He pulls away with a great yank of his self-restraint, still holding your hand. “C’mon, baby.”

You follow dutifully, staring up at your husband with the same moony eyes you gave him on your wedding day. The third stair creaks a bit, the way it always does. The bedroom door is first on the left, and it's a good fucking thing, because Joel can't wait any longer. 

He walks you to the edge of the bed, stalking, a predator on prey, focused solely on his task. “Goddamn beautiful,” he says to himself, scanning your mostly-naked body and feeling his eyes droop in arousal. 

“Think so?” Your hand drops between your bodies and palms his erection over his jeans. “Yeah, you really think so.”

His nostrils flare. “Sit.”

You lower yourself onto the mattress, primly placing your hands on your thighs and straightening your spine. Joel hums appreciatively, approaching you and slotting himself between your legs. There's a dark wet spot pooling in your panties. “Sweet thing. So needy all fuckin’ day.”

“So were you” is your retort, packing little punch due to the way you push your tits toward him like a fucking whore. 

Joel presses his big, warm hand to your sternum. “Remember what you said to me the first time I got you in bed?”

“‘Let’s go again’?”

“The other thing.”

“'Let me suck your dick’?”

“Try again, baby.”

“‘Wrong hole’?”

Joel snorts, shaking his head. “Goddamn smartass,” he mutters. “Told me you wanted me from that first night. Told me you woulda let me fuck you against that bathroom mirror.”

His hand begins to move, rolling your nipple between his fingers like a cigarette, playing with you the way he likes. “Said you’d let me do whatever I wanted,” Joel says quietly, not meeting your eyes, transfixed by the way your body seeks the touch he gives you. “That still true?”

“I meant it then, and I mean it now,” you tell him, pulling your lip between your teeth. “I’m yours, Joel Miller.”

He tilts his head slightly, satisfied. “You got somethin’ you wanna ask me?”

You hook a finger in his belt loop. “Can you get naked now?”

He laughs, guiding your hand to the buckle on his belt. “Go on. Do what you wanna do, baby.”

He belongs to you. He’s yours to mould the way you want. 

Your fingers do away with his belt, whipping it out of the loops and hanging it around your neck. Joel’s hands flex at his sides as you toy with the hem of his shirt, bringing it slowly up his torso with your palms flat to his tanned skin. 

You imagine you're sculpting him like clay, bringing your hands over the contours and admiring the work when all is done. It’s the artist’s pride of finishing the work and none of the self-reproach when something comes out wrong, because it’s Joel, and wrong becomes negligible. 

You bring the shirt over his head with his assistance, lifting his arms for you, tossing the thing aside with little care. His eyes haven't once wavered from you. Next are his jeans, the scrape of his zipper and the delectable anticipation of hooking your fingers in the waistband and guiding them slowly down his hips. 

His cock springs forward, thick and heavy and so hard it must ache, as you shuck his jeans down with his boxers. He grunts above you, his cock bobbing at the sight of your pretty lips parting. But you don’t take him into your mouth. You grasp the base of his cock and gently nuzzle your cheek against his length. Something like a strangled whimper leaves his throat. 

“Baby,” he chokes. 

“Yes, honey?” you say sweetly, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Jesus,” he says through his teeth. “You’re so fuckin' sexy. Fuck.”

You hum, slowly stroking your hand up and down as your tongue darts out to lick his balls. Joel’s hips stutter, his hand flying out to catch himself on the bedpost. “Goddamn. Jesus—”

Your coy smile knocks him askew, your lips pursing as you spit on the head of his cock, spreading your own saliva around the tip with your thumb. “I just wanna thank you”—a soft kiss to the tip has a rumbling groan crawling out of his throat—“for everything you do for me. I just want you to know how much I love you.”

Joel exhales hard, struggling to remember how breathing works when he's got his wife playing with his cock like it's your favourite toy. “How much do you love me?” he demands. 

You wrap your fingers around the head of his cock and twist your hand up and down his shaft in a couple slow strokes. You're driving him fucking crazy. His vision is whiting out. 

“I love you,” you purr, licking a broad stripe up the underside of his length. Joel’s chest is heaving with the effort of holding back. “Love you so much. Love you enough to make you a daddy.”

Joel caves, threading his fingers through your hair at the nape of your neck and stroking his thumb along your jaw. “Fuck, baby. Please…”

“Do you love me?” Batting your lashes, you scatter measured kisses from his tip to the base, teasingly licking his balls. 

“Christ, I—” His hips jut forward instinctively. “I love you. Fuckin’ love you, baby.”

You flick your tongue against his slit and relish his groan, revelling in the sight of his flushed chest, his pink cheeks, the sweat on his brow. His jaw is tense, his nostrils flaring. He’s trying not to take control. 

You slap his cock twice on your tongue and finally take it past your lips, sealing your mouth over the head. Joel moans, white-knuckling the bedpost, his other hand now stroking your hair. You fondle his balls in your free hand while the other grips him at the base, and he’s going to come embarrassingly soon if you keep looking up at him this way. 

Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock while your lips seal tight, greedily suckling at his tip. Oversensitive, skin prickling with salty sweat, Joel practically breathes through his teeth. “Gonna kill me,” he manages. “You’re gonna kill me, honey.”

“Mmmm,” you reply, happily taking him deeper, his length sliding along the warm wetness of your tongue. Joel’s fingers tighten in your hair. 

“Fuuuuck. You love this cock.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Love takin' me into your mouth like a little slut.”

“Mmmmph,” you agree, pushing your tits out. 

His hand drifts down to the belt hanging around your neck and he wraps his fist around both ends, tugging so you’re forced to take him deeper. You splutter, breathing hard through your nose, your arousal dripping onto the mattress. 

The sloppy sounds of your mouth working his cock send his head spinning. Drool dribbles from the corners of your lips, your eyes squeezing black tears from dewy lashes. And when you take him down your throat, the sound of your choked moan leaves Joel with little choice but to pull out before he comes. 

You whine, squeezing your thighs together. He swipes his thumb underneath your eye and shows you the black smudge from your mascara. “Doesn't take much to get you cryin’. You like me that much?”

You bite your bottom lip and beam up at him. “Did I do okay?”

Your faux-innocence makes his dick twitch in your face, and you flick your tongue out to lick at the tip once more. Joel grunts, grasping his belt and tossing it away. 

“‘Did I do okay,’” he murmurs, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. “Got no idea after all these years. No idea what you do to me.”

“I just wanna take care of my man. He works so hard, you know, keeping me safe and happy.” You run your hand over his soft belly, the trail of hair that leads down to his cock. “He’s always liked to give me things.”

Joel backs you farther up the bed and crawls over your body, lowering his head to bury his face in your throat. You smell fresh and sweet as vanilla, and when he playfully bites into your skin, your saplike laugh has him grinding helplessly against your thigh. 

He loves to give—always has. It’s all he knows. It took a long while for you to get him to unlearn some of his blind selflessness, to let you take control sometimes and care for him instead. Your Joel provides; he does not take. And the prospect of getting to give his wife a baby is turning him to putty in your hands. By the time he gets to work, he’ll be dead-set on his task, hard-pressed to pull out of you. He’ll want to get the job done on his first try, refusing to see you upset if the test comes back negative, but the id will still scratch and claw for another chance to fill you up. 

Joel sucks a hickey into your neck and soothes the mark with his tongue, the slow, soft pleasure compounded by the way his warm body covers you, your fingers carding through his locks. 

Your voice oozes, honeyed, down his spine. “I love you, Joel.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and crushes his nose in your throat, his hand smoothing down your hair. “I love you.”

“You want to make a baby?”

He rears back slightly, his nose bumping against yours. “Yeah. I really fuckin’ do.”

You grin, lacing your fingers together at the back of his neck. “Will you fuck me? Please?”

Joel brushes his thumb across your chin. “Use your words.”

“I want to be a mom, Joel.” You give him a long, gooey stare, eyes warm and soft as running water. A look like that will make a man give you the goddamn galaxy. 

He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. “I know, baby. I’ll help you. Hands and knees, now.”

The gentle direction moulds your body to the shape of the words. You go easily, your back arching as you rest your weight on your forearms and spread your thighs. The bed dips behind you as Joel settles in, his hands grasping your ass and making you jump. 

Your body trembles with excitement. You’re going to be a mom. He's going to get you pregnant. You feel dizzy, bending deeper at the hips and shaking your ass at him, deluded with your own arousal. 

But Joel doesn't fuck you right away. No, he bumps up against the backs of your thighs, warm hands branding your skin, and rubs two fingers over the wet spot darkening your panties. 

“I do this to you?” he says smugly. 

“You know damn well—”

“Wanna hear you say it.” The no-nonsense command triggers a submissive response. “Who did this to you?”

Your body melts against him, presenting your pussy to him like a needy whore. “You, Joel. It’s you, baby. Only you.”

Your babbling makes him squeeze handfuls of your ass, spreading your asscheeks apart to get a good glimpse of the way your pussy drools into your panties. Shuffling backward and lowering himself to his knees on the floor, Joel’s tongue darts out and licks you through your underwear. 

“Ohh, fuck!” you gasp. “Joel…”

He hums, tasting your tang through the fabric and finding your puffy clit, sucking gently. You cry out, your fingers grasping the sheets, and Joel moves your panties aside to slather his spit all over your dripping pussy. The languorous movements of his tongue are indulgent, achingly slow; he loves the taste of you as much as you enjoy having his mouth on your cunt. 

“Oh my God, Joel… fuck, honey, please—!”

Your thighs are trembling as you struggle to hold yourself up, the strokes of his tongue turning your muscles to soup. He stops to take your panties off, guiding them off your legs, and by now, you're so wet that your juices glisten halfway down your thighs. Joel dives back in and licks up the rivulets of arousal from your skin, all the way back up to your weeping hole. 

“So goddamn sweet,” he grumbles, kneading your ass in his hands as he flicks his tongue over your clit a few more times. 

“Joel, I’m…” You’re drooling, grinding pathetically into his face, already close to an orgasm, and he isn't fucking letting up. 

He wants you as wet and needy as possible, his own cock leaking onto the bedsheets at the prospect of sliding into your creamy pussy. 

Your cheeks burn and your muscles lock as Joel makes out with your pussy, his tongue laving over your pearl in slow, aching circles. He drowns in the pleasure of making you feel good. He soaks himself in kerosene and lights the match. 

“Oh, fuck!” Your thighs shake around his head and your toes curl, ears ringing with the force of your high. Grasping feebly at the bedsheets, you try not to list, but Joel isn’t fucking stopping, cleaning you up with his tongue like you're a piece of goddamn pie. 

His fingers dig into your ass, rapacious as his mouth, and you climb high to a space that transcends the sky, feeling nothing but the linen underneath and the man above, softly kissing your poor, used clit. 

He doesn’t let up until you reach back and gently shove his head away, grasping his damp curls. “Baby, let me rest,” you gasp, “just for a second.”

Regretfully, he pulls away, pressing a kiss to each knob of your spine, dragging his nose up your back. “‘m so fuckin’ lucky,” he murmurs against your skin. 

“Lucky you didn’t kill me.” You laugh breathlessly, your hips already sore from keeping your ass in the air. 

“Makin’ sure you’re ready,” he says innocently, sliding his thick fingers through your slit. You gasp, trying to escape his grasp despite yourself. He just clicks his tongue in reproach. “Nuh-uh, baby. You're gonna stay right here, let me make it good for you. Hmm? Wanna feel good?”

You nod your head frantically. “Yeah, yeah, I do. Wanna be good.”

“Mmm, now, you know that ain't your job tonight,” he says in a mock scold. In the meantime, his fingers soak themselves in your wetness. “Don't think you're ready for me yet.”

“No! No, I’m ready,” you pant, grinding against his erection. Joel grunts, holding your hip in place. “Baby, please, I’m ready for you. Need you so badly.”

“Shhh, sweetheart. I'll give you what you need. Just be patient.” Hands smooth over your ass, between your thighs, and then two fingers are teasing your hole. Joel tilts his head to watch the way he spreads your folds wide. “Gonna fill this up.”

A strangled noise spills from your mouth, your cheeks burning hot at the way he exposes you so tenderly. “Please,” you croak, hiding your face in the crook of your elbow. 

He grasps himself and teases the already-wet head of his cock over your pussy, spurting precum onto your hole. “You want a baby?” he asks, low and dark. You luxuriate in the velvet-soft tone. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want a baby,” you whisper, “please. Please give me a baby.”

He readies himself at your tight cunt and the excitement briefly overcomes him, forcing his hips forward and pushing past the wet, gummy seal of your pussy. You gasp, held in place by his hand on your hip. 

“What. Do. You. Want?”

“I want to make you a daddy!” you sob. “I want to have your baby and make you a daddy.”

“You want to be a momma?” he says through his teeth, tunnel vision narrowing his focus to the way he slowly guides himself into you, wrenching you open. At this angle, with how wet you are, the glide is delicious, white-hot, his balls heavy with the need to empty inside you. “That it? Want everyone to know who put a fuckin’ baby in you?”

Your husband is so fucking big, so strong, and the way he pins your body down feels close to primal. “Yes! Yes, Daddy, yes! I want to be a momma. Please give me a baby.”

The words put a chisel to his self-restraint and crack down. He’s gone, baring his teeth, pulling your hips toward him and impaling you on his cock, relishing the give of your tight walls and the way he sits snug against your cervix. You mewl, reaching back to find a purchase on his hip. “Joel, fuck…”

He establishes a punishing pace, driving your body farther up the bed with every thrust. “That’s it,” he groans, sliding his palm up your spine. “Gonna look so goddamn beautiful with a baby in you. You were fuckin’ made to take this cock.”

Your moan is syrupy and pitched low, your cheek buried in the mattress, letting him fill you up again, again, again—

“I’ll get you fuckin’ pregnant,” continues Joel, panting through his words, sweat beading on his brow as he runs his hands over your skin. “Stuff you so goddamn full you'll always feel me.”

“Uhhh!” you moan, fisting the sheets, your body practically folded in half to accommodate your husband’s huge body, his thick cock.

Joel wants this, too—has for a long time. It’s hard not to notice the little details. He places his hand on your belly when he isn't even paying attention, his lips finding the soft skin there when he first wakes in the morning. You knew he would have dropped everything to give you a baby the second you demanded it, but you realise you may have underestimated his need. 

Joel is growling like a dog, sweat dripping from his temples and back pinching with effort as he holds your body close, glueing you to him, his cock reaching deep, deliberate, mind going numb, intent the only tangible feeling he can grasp onto. Intent and the white-hot drag of his cock against your walls. 

You’re going to grow swollen and round with his baby. He will watch your tits grow heavy, your belly bulge, your cheeks take on a ruddy, dewy glow, the telltale mark of his success, his devotion. He’ll wake up every morning wrapped in the scent of your body, your hormones, his palm finding sanctuary on your soft, warm belly. He’ll bury his face in your throat and you’ll smile and the sun will warm the golden spot where a new life grows. 

Fuck, he’ll never let you do laundry again. You could hurt your back. 

Your head spins at the wet slap of his balls against your clit, the obscene squelch of your pussy around his impressive length, the way he grabs at you. He’s greedy, hands mapping each rib, each vertebrae, every curve and contour that makes you. 

Your pussy sucks him in, just as needy, breathless moans and squeals punching out of your throat as you croak out pleas: Joel, baby, please. I want a baby so badly. Wanna have your baby. Please, please, fill me up! And Joel listens, his palm sliding around your waist and down your belly, rubbing your sensitive clit with two fingers. 

A real man gives his wife everything she wants. 

He moans at the feeling of your cunt squeezing him, his fingers wet and insistent against your little clit, coaxing you toward your climax. “C’mon,” he grunts, “come for me, baby. Fuckin’ choke me. Wanna feel it. Come and I’ll give you the baby you want so goddamn bad. C’mon, baby.”

His words seep into your bloodstream, an uncontrollable tremor racking your body, your arms giving out as he bends over you and sinks his teeth into your shoulder. “Ohhhh, God! Oh my—!” 

Joel’s hands squeeze your tits, his entire body covering yours, a warm, protective blanket, slick with sweat and heart thundering against your back. His lips are on your skin, feverishly kissing and nipping. You can’t breathe, can’t move, and it feels so fucking good. You soak his cock, muscles seizing, pinned down by his strong body. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groans. “That’s it, baby. Goddamn, keep on squeezin’ me like that. Not gonna leave this tight pussy until you're fuckin’ pregnant.”

“Joelllll,” you whine, your orgasm prolonged by his words, his unrelenting thrusts, the jolt of his balls slapping your clit. “Want it so bad. Wanna give you a baby. Come inside me, please. Please give me your cum, oh, God—”

The broken sound of your voice, weak and raspy, goes straight to his dick, and his balls are pulling up, his head bombarded with the smell of sex, perfume, linen, you. He rests his forehead between your shoulder blades as you milk his cock, turning his thrusts sloppy and desperate. He needs to come. He needs to make it real. 

Your orgasm leaves you pliant and loose in his arms, and he fondles your tits, squeezing them hard in his hands as he pictures them growing, swelling heavy with milk he’ll feed your baby. His baby. Idly, you moan, letting him use your body to get off, his teeth grazing your neck. 

“Gonna come. Gonna fuckin’ fill you up, give you a baby. Gonna—Jesus, goddamn—”

Maybe it's the pent-up frustration of not having come all day. Maybe it's a renewed sense of purpose, knowing he's got a job to do, keeping every drop safe inside you. Maybe it's the sheer fucking excitement of getting to give his wife what he's wanted to put in you for so long. But when he comes, hips flush to your ass, he comes so much, for so long, that the rapid rush of blood from his cock back up to his head has him nearly keeling. 

Kissing your cervix, the head of his cock spurts rope after rope of hot cum inside you, and you mewl, your back arching to deepen the angle, luxuriate in the liquid warmth. Joel isn’t so loud now, not so cocky. He’s reduced to strained groans and whimpers as your body depletes him, greedily taking every drop of cum he has to offer. 

It feels like minutes before it finally stops, but with your ass up in the air, none of his cum spills out. Your hips are sore, your ass bruises from his hands, your tits still sitting warmly in his hands. The cool kiss of his wedding band soothes the too-hot press of his body on top of yours, your doubly-slick skin meeting indecently. His lips are on the back of your neck and he thrusts shallowly, wringing the last of his cum from the tip until he's wholly empty and bordering on oversensitive. 

You're the first to speak, your throat clogged with drool and some of your own tears. 

“Thank fuck I was at the bar that night.”

Joel’s laugh scrapes down your spine along with his beard as he drags himself upright, knowing he’s crushing you. “Never would've had to patch me up”

“Mmm, you're sexy when you're mad,” you point out, your thighs twitching as he carefully guides you onto your side, back to his chest, his cock still acting as a plug for his cum. You’re deliciously full, and you hum happily at the feeling of his warm belly against you, his big arms cradling you close. 

“Shouldn't enable violence,” he grumbles. His lashes flutter against your shoulder. 

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please.”

He chuckles. “You feel okay?”

“I feel good,” you muse, running your fingers along his forearm, the prominent veins under his skin. “I feel excited.”

His grin curves against your skin, the scratch of his moustache sending a shiver up your spine. Outside, the sun begins to dip, and your twin golden rings glimmer in the fiery light. 

“Me, too,” he whispers, and you lace your fingers through his, squeezing, both of you practically giddy. 

There’s a lull, and for a moment, you think he’s fallen asleep. The sun creeps behind a home across the street, and its watch ends for another day. 

“Hey, Joel?”

His mouth meets your throat in a sleepy kiss. “Yeah, baby?”

“I like the name Sarah.”

THE END.

tags: @cavillscurls @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @cupofjoel @northernbluess @tieronecrush @joelmillers-whore @bastardmandennis - thank you all so so much for showing excitement for this fic!! kisses for you all 🫶

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #pre outbreak!joel #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader

[joeldjarin]

me and the joel miller girlies

#pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #tlou #tlou hbo #joel miller fic #joel miller hbo #dbf joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller hbo x you #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller pedro pascal #my post

[thelightofday]

NEED TO KNOW

pairing: dbf!joel miller x afab!reader (no use of y/n) (no outbreak)

warnings: cursing, drinking, age gap (reader is 23, joel is late 40’s) porn w a lil plot, fingering, oral sex (fm recieving), unprotected sex (p in v) (wrap it up folks), choking, lots of pet names, dom!joel, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, soft!joel, this shit is filthy sorry y’all.

word count: around 3.5k

a/n: this is my first joel smut sooo pls enjoy and feedback is always appreciated.

18+ minors DNI! any blank/ageless blogs will be blocked!

THE FIRST TIME Joel Miller realized how bad he had it for you was on a Saturday night.

A very typical Saturday night. You were his neighbor. His best friend's daughter. You'd practically grown up with Joel as a second father. He was a single dad, and so was your dad. The two of them had a special bond, and every Saturday night they would sit in Joel's garage— which was more of a man cave, actually— drinking and listening to music. Talking and raising hell. Drowning their sorrows in beer and liquor. You were quite a bit older than Joel’s daughter, Sarah. Freshly 23. You were a staple in the Miller household, often babysitting when Joel was working late. You all often spent holidays together, had family game nights, and spent plenty of summer days in the backyard by Joel's pool when you had the chance. You were absolutely off limits, and that was obvious. Maybe that's why he wanted you so bad.

Joel had made his way back into the kitchen to grab more beers from the fridge, only glancing up when he saw movement outside of a nearby window. There you stood in your bedroom. The curtains were open, allowing anyone passing by to see exactly what he was seeing. He nearly dropped the beers in his hand as his eyes raked hungrily over your body. You stood infront of a mirror, facing away from him and admiring yourself in a baby pink lingerie set you'd bought earlier that day. Joel's mouth went dry as he stood still, blinking. For just a second, he felt like he was dreaming. Imagining how soft your skin was, how reactive you would be, how you would taste. "Fuckin' christ." He muttered, pulling his eyes from the inappropriate scene. Joel mentally chastised himself as he twitched in the confines of his jeans, unable to unsee the images flooding his brain.

It was bound to be a long night.

THE SECOND TIME Joel Miller realized how bad he had it for you was over a month later. It was the fourth of July, and celebrations were in full swing. Everyone had gathered at Joel's, like always. It was your typical hot dogs and hamburgers kinda lunch, ofcourse with a bunch of sides and desserts brought by other guests.  You had made your way inside to grab a forgotten bowl of fruit that sat in the fridge. Joel turned the corner, his eyes meeting the curve of your ass as you bent over to grab the bowl. God, why couldn't he fucking escape this. He looked away just as you turned around, hearing someone behind you.

"Shit, you scared me." You chirped, sitting the bowl down on the counter.

"Sorry, baby." Joel didn't think twice about the pet name as it fell from his lips. It wasn't the first time he'd called you that— but this time it felt different for both of you. You tried to ignore the pale blush you felt rising on your cheeks. He noticed.

"What did you come inside for?" You asked, looking at him.

"Aluminum foil." He stated, grabbing it out of the pantry and turning back to you. Fuck, you were glowing. You looked pretty everyday in Joel's opinion, but the little sundress you had on today was playing games with him. "Need anything else?"

You shook your head, smiling softly.

"You look real pretty today, hun." Joel said randomly as he opened the door for you. You almost tripped over your own feet. "Just wanted to tell ya."

THE THIRD TIME Joel Miller realized how bad he had it for you was the final strike. He'd spent two months drooling over his best friend's daughter, which he felt like a total ass about. Work had been busy lately and thankfully, it had been a while since he'd seen you. It was what he needed. He needed to focus on something that was practical. Something that wouldn't get him in trouble.

Saturday night had rolled around once again, but this time your father was out of town visiting your grandmother. So, Joel sat at home relaxing, a beer in his hand. Sarah was at a friend’s house so the house was extra quiet tonight. You, on the other hand, were anything but relaxed. Between your tears and the torrential downpour outside, it was hard to see the road as you pulled into the neighborhood. Knowing your dad was gone, you pulled into the driveway and got out of the car, heels in hand as you headed straight for Joel's front porch. You sniffled, squinting your eyes as the cold rain met your skin. In mere seconds, you were practically soaked. It was the cherry on top of the fucking sundae.

You knocked a few times, flinching when a loud crack of thunder sounded. Joel appeared a few moments later, his demeanor immediately changing when he saw your expression. Your cheeks were stained with mascara, eyes puffy, hair wet. He pulled you inside, taking the heels from your hand and sitting them down by the door. "What in the world, honey?" He questioned, watching tears well up in your eyes again. "Hey, hey— S'okay. Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?"

Joel knew you were with a guy that night—Out on a date with a boy you'd been seeing for about a month now. Your father had brought him up a few times, very displeased with the male. He'd stood you up once but you'd given him a second chance. Things had gone fairly well after that until tonight.

You shook your head at Joel's question, clinging onto him. "He's just an ass." You whimpered. Joel was mad, his face growing redder by the minute. It was a typical emotional response for him.

"I'm sorry, sweet girl." He cooed, head resting on top of your own as he pulled you into a hug, hand running along your back. "I'll gladly beat his ass if given the chance, just say the word." You let out a small, pathetic sounding laugh at his words.

Joel was quick to pull you under his wing, leading you upstairs to his room and offering you a change of clothes before he started the shower for you.

"You take your time." He said, voice calm. "I'll be downstairs. You come down whenever you're ready and we'll watch a movie or something. Sound good?"

You nodded, watching him close the bathroom door behind him.

For the first time that evening you looked into the mirror, immediately cringing at the sight. No man was worth any of this. You felt pathetic, embarrassed even— upset that you'd dragged Joel into your problems.

Joel, on the other hand, could care less. He had always been the type to take care of people. It was second nature. Plus, it was you.

He sat downstairs, aimlessly flipping through the TV channels for a while before choosing a random movie. You were upstairs for a half hour before you graced him with your presence again. "Feel better?" He asked, a part of him dying at the sight of his shirt on you. You nodded, starting to ramble about how sorry you were for ruining his night. "Uh uh—" He was quick to cut you off. "None of that."

Joel patted the spot beside him on the couch and tossed his arm up on the frame of the furniture. You flopped down, sighing. "Got you a beer— But if you don't want one s’fine."

"I'll take it." You chuckled, taking it from his hand. You popped the top of the can and immediately took a sip of the cold liquid.

"Y'wanna talk about what happened tonight?"

"No, not really." He nodded at your response, understanding. "Sorry."

"Stop apologizing." Joel patted your leg in a quick attempt to comfort you.

"Sorry." You teased, chuckling.

Maybe it was the shitty night you'd had, or the way Joel smelled like fucking sandalwood and pine, or the way his rough, calloused hand felt against the skin of your leg— but you were absolutely aching. You'd always found Joel attractive, but there had never been any reason to believe that he felt the same about you. He was a quiet, mysterious man for the most part, but you felt like you knew him well. Maybe there were parts of him you just couldn't read. Nevertheless, you'd reached a breaking point. Unbeknownst to you, so had he.

You admired his side profile as he stared toward the tv. Lacking courage, you were unsure of your next move— but you knew it required more alcohol.

Joel watched as you stood up, heading for his kitchen. "Want another beer?" You called to him.

He smiled. "Yeah, sure— thanks."

As the night crept on, you found the buzz you had been craving. The buzz that melts your worries away, and never fails to give you a confidence you never knew you had. It started with longing stares, ones that Joel started to pick up on but chose to ignore. Then the sweet sound of your giggling whenever he said something funny. Then the touching. The innocent hand on his leg that he was definitely overthinking. The way you'd seemingly inched closer and closer to his side until his arm was lazily slung over your shoulder. You started to imagine what his lips would feel like against your own. How his rough hands would feel wrapped around your neck. Joel immediately noticed the way you shifted, thighs rubbing together.

Fuck, he was in for it.

Your skin was burning and he hadn't even looked your way. This needed to stop, you thought.

It wasn't until you went to stand up to take a trip to the bathroom to gather yourself that Joel made his move. Fingers wrapped around your wrist, prohibiting you from walking away from him. He stayed silent, watching your head whip back and eyes meet his own.

"Tell me you don't want me to touch you." His words nearly stole the breath from your lungs and single-handedly made your pulse skyrocket.

You swallowed, mouth entirely too dry. "Joel- I" The words left your lips in a pathetic stutter. "Please."

His beautiful eyes bore into your own, keeping an intense eye contact as his large hands moved to your hips, easily pulling you into his lap.

"This is so wrong." He muttered, lips nearing your own. "Jus' can't bring myself to stop wanting it."

You leaned into him, hands moving to his sides as your lips met. Finally. Everything was warm and fuzzy and felt too much like a dream. A hand traveled up and down your clothed back before starting to slide under the soft fabric, meeting your warm skin for the first time. His tongue ran along yours, the familar taste of beer lingering. You whined into his mouth.

The moment you rolled your hips against his own was the exact moment Joel knew he was done for. There was no way he could stop this. Himself. Feeling how hard he was in his jeans already only spurred you on.

"Such a needy little girl." His voice was deep and teasing, enough to make you dizzy as you clung onto him. "What would your dad think about this, huh?"

"Joel, please—" He'd never get enough of your whining for him.

"Wanted to ruin you for so long, baby. That what you want?" He hummed. "Y'Gonna be a good girl for me?"

You nodded profusely, gripping onto his flannel shirt. His lips stayed near yours as large, warm hands slid up your sides, urging goosebumps to rise on your skin. You swore you were about to pass out.

"Such a talkative little thing before, what happened mama?" Joel was fully hard now, straining against the confines of his jeans. You were bound to be the death of him. "Cat got your tongue?"

You smiled a little, moving forward to kiss him again.

"You gonna touch me, old man? Or just gonna tease?"

Joel chuckled, catching you off guard as a large hand moved up to wrap around your neck. You blinked, letting out a small gasp.

"Y'gonna listen and do exactly as I say? Or you just gonna be a fucking brat?"

You offered him a devilish grin as he laid you back on the couch, releasing his grip on your neck afterward. His tshirt was bunched up around your ribs now and you watched, heart pounding, as he pulled off the sweatpants you had on— which were also his. Joel's eyes fell on the lace panties that hugged your curves and he calmly ran his thumbs along your hipbones. As much as he loved them, the panties had to go, and took their rightful spot on the floor.

"Such a pretty little fuckin' pussy." He knelt down on the floor, pulling you to the edge of the couch. Slowly, he drug two fingers along your folds, effectively making you squirm. He inserted a finger experimentally, his tongue starting to lap at your clit at the same time. Your eyes were clamped shut and lips parted, hands gripping at the couch cushions.

"Fuck—" Your cry was music to Joel's ears as he slowly pumped a long finger in and out.

"That good, baby?" The older man cooed.

"Yes, fuck yes— oh my goddd."

"M' gonna fuckin' ruin this tight little cunt."

Your legs trembled, small whimpers falling from your lips continuously, along with Joel's name. He hummed against your core, urging your head to fall back and a long whine to leave you. Joel obviously had a lot of experience when it came to this. Much more than any guy you'd been with before. This was fucking unreal.

With every thrust of his finger and movement of his tongue, you were sent spirialing further and further into the abyss. If you weren't enjoying yourself so much you'd probably be embarrassed about how fast you'd gotten close.

"Y'gonna cum for me, sweet baby? I feel you."

"Shit" You cried, tears forming at the sides of your eyes. "Joel, m'gonna cum, fuck—"

"Fuckin' cum." He muttered, his words a command that sent you over the edge into a head-spinning, white hot orgasm. You clawed at the couch, back arching ever so slightly off of the cushion. Joel held you tight as you tensed up, tongue still working against you until you were begging him to stop.

"Please please please" You sounded pathetic, fucked out— better than Joel had ever imagined. And he had imagined this a lot.

"Fuckin' hell." He growled, pulling his shirt over his head in a quick motion before reaching for his belt. Your smaller hand moved up, pushing his away. He stepped closer, looking down at you. "Quit with the damn doe eyes. G'na fuckin be the death of me." You giggled, fingers working to unbuckle his belt, then unbutton his jeans.

“Wanna taste you.” Your voice was soft as you sat eye-fucking the man.

"Next time." He huffed, watching you tug at his jeans. "M'not gonna last if you do that."

Your heart couldn't help but skip a beat at the idea of doing this again. At the fact that Joel wanted to do it again. His words were a promise that you surely wouldn't forget anytime soon.

Your hands were cool, a contrast to his burning skin. His jeans pooled at his ankles as he stood still, letting you work at his briefs. The way you were biting your lip was barely noticeable as you ran your palm along his length through the thin material. God, he was fucking huge. He groaned, reaching a hand out to cup the side of your face.

He stepped away for a moment, kicking off his jeans and underwear. You laid there sporting a very content expression, which he thought was so damn adorable. He too was very content. His large hands urged your legs open again, palms pressing to the back of your thighs as he ran himself along your soaked entrance.

"Y'gonna take all of this cock like a good girl?" Your chest rose and fell, breathing rapid as you watched him.

"Yes Joel, please." You begged, squirming.

"Please what?"

"Please, daddy— please." Your words were just gasoline to the fire, spurring Joel on.

"You're bad." He chuckled, shaking his head. He kept a tight grip on your legs as he pressed into you, the head sliding in with a burning stretch. Your eyes fluttered shut, face contorted in pain.

"Good girl, you can take it— just breathe."

"So fuckin' big, daddy." You whimpered, walls gripping him as he bottomed out. Joel let out a shaky breath, stilling to let you adjust. He mumbled something to himself that you didn't pick up on as you slid your hands up his sides then to his biceps. "Move, please."

He listened, pulling himself back and almost completely out before quickly thrusting back into you, earning a sweet sounding cry from you.

"Such a tight little cunt, taking me so fuckin well." Joel breathed, reaching down to toy with your clit as he picked up a pace that had you seeing stars. Your nails dug little crescent moons into his bicep where you gripped onto him, head lulling back— unable to form a coherent word at this point. Joel watched you in absolute awe. "My good girl, y'gonna cum on this cock?" You whimpered, feeling his hand wrap around the back of your neck and lift your head up. "Lemme see those pretty eyes— there we go." His eyes met your own and he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

"M'gon— Joel— I-"

"I know, baby."

In a swift movement he had pressed his palms to the back of your thighs and pushed your legs into your chest, hitting a deeper part of you that he hadn't before. You were a mess, calling out to him, words tangled with long whines. His hips snapping against your own was a sound you'd never forget, one that was filling the small living room and dancing with the sound of rain falling against the window.  Every thrust sent you further and further into oblivion.

"Cum for me, mama— So good, honey."

The coil finally snapped, and you were silent for a moment, falling headfirst over the edge. The silence was followed by some of the most beautiful sounds Joel had ever heard in his life. An animalistic scream left your swollen lips as you tightened around him, milking him for all his worth. A string of curses left his mouth as he continued to fuck into you, your walls fluttering around him.

"M'fuck— Where d'ya want me sugar—"

"P-Please fill me up daddy." You held onto him, wrapping your arms around his torso as you heard him groan at your response.

"Yeah, want me to fuck you full of my cum baby? Fuckin' give you a baby- You'd like that wouldn't you?"

Joel held your head up, admiring the faces you were making. You looked so fucked out that it was driving him insane. Tears brimmed in your eyes, lips were swollen and pink, brows furrowed.

"Want it Joel— want it so bad, please."

Without another thought, Joel hit you with one particularly hard thrust and stilled, letting out a groan that echoed throughout the room, filling your overstimulated senses. You felt his warmth pour into you, filling you perfectly. It was a feeling you never wanted to forget. The sounds of combined heavy breathing were all that remained as you both stared at each other.

Suddenly you understood those stupid forbidden fruit scenarios. You didn't give a shit how wrong any of this was. This was how you wanted it to be. You wanted Joel.

He blinked a few times, letting go of his grip on you.

"You alright?" He asked, noticing you were deep in thought.

You simply nodded, reaching for the back of his neck and pulling him into a sweet kiss. He was still buried in you, slowly growing soft. When you pulled away, Joel gently pulled himself from you and headed for a nearby bathroom. You laid still, listening to the faucet turn on. He returned seconds later with a damp rag, lovingly cleaning you up as you both remained silent.

Joel dissapeared again afterward, and you made quick effort to slide your panties back on, followed by his shirt from earlier. You were giddy— floating. You couldn't seem to wipe the corny ass smile from your face. He rounded the corner again a few seconds later, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

It might sound dramatic but in that moment you had silently swore off any man under 40.

"Daddy can't know about this, y'know." Joel's voice was deep and intoxicating, a small smile appearing on his lips as he looked down at you.

"Yeah, no shit Miller."

"C'mon. We're getting in bed." He reached down, gripping your ass and easily lifting you up. You chuckled, wrapping your legs around him. "Better hope I actually let you get some sleep tonight."

sooo, no joel taglist as of now but if anyone is interested please let me know. —j 💌

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #dbf!joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #TLOU #tlou smut #dbf!joel smut #pedro pascal smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfic