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cinnxmxngxrl · 3 days ago

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Dr. Miller’s Check Up♡

Dark!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Joel’s Masterlist

“Jesus, sweets… you’re squeezin’ the life outta me. Can’t do a proper exam if this cunt keeps suckin’ my fingers in like that.”

Summary: Joel Miller comes up with a brilliant plan… pretending to be a doctor just to get close to you and have full access to your body.

WC: 7k

Tags/Warnings: smut, minors DNI, dub-con, dark!joel, pervy old man!joel, gaslighting, manipulation, gullible!reader, stalk-ish behavior, unprotected piv, fingering, oral (f!receiving), breast exam, creampie, mentions of breast cancer and std’s.

Before reading, please make sure you’ve read the warnings and are okay with them. Also, keep in mind that this includes a bunch of medical misinformation due to Joel making up bullshit, so please don’t take any of it as factual, except for the fact that it’s important to do breast self-exams!!

When you first heard a man talking about Jackson, your initial reaction was: he must be out of his mind. There was no way a sustainable community still existed, one that welcomed strangers instead of killing them over two cans of peaches and a half-loaded rifle. A place with warm beds, hot showers, and real meals? It sounded like a fairytale, not something meant for the world you lived in. But then you arrived, just a week ago alongside your brother, and it turned out the rumors weren’t a cruel lie after all, Jackson was real.

It didn’t just exist, but it felt like a dream. One so delicate, so impossibly good, you were afraid to blink, terrified that if you did, it would all disappear… just a figment of your desperate imagination. People were kind and friendly in Jackson, the kids ran through the streets laughing, throwing snowballs like there wasn’t a brutal world just beyond the gates. It was organized, there was a functioning hospital with real doctors, engineers kept the hydroelectric plant running. There was a school with teachers. It was the closest thing you’d seen to the old world in a long, long time, and it scared the hell out of you.

Your brother had settled in just fine, it only took him two days to make friends, join the patrols, and prove himself useful around town. But for you… it wasn’t so easy. You were still waiting for the dream to break, waiting to wake up and find the walls torn open, overrun by infected. Waiting for a bigger, meaner group to find Jackson, and if you were lucky, they’d just kill everyone quickly.

Maria, the woman who seemed to run things around Jackson, had told you when you first arrived to stop by the hospital, get yourself checked up. After all, being out on the road for so long could do a number on your health, but the truth was, you’d barely left the house since you got here.

Joel was doing what he did every day, minding his own damn business. Patrol had taken a toll on his body, and now Tommy was on his case about getting the new houses built by the end of the week, which wouldn’t be such a problem if he wasn’t stuck working with people who’d never held a hammer in their damn lives.

But that’s when he saw you, crossing the gates of Jackson, and Jesus Christ, it had been a goddamn long time since he’d felt like this about anyone… Since he’d felt like a man. You looked a little roughed up, like you’d been on the road too long, worn down by it, but even then, your beauty was undeniable. Those piercing eyes, that mouth with lips that looked like they were made to be kissed, sucked, bitten. And your thighs, your hips… they didn’t look too soft or meaty, you looked like you hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks, but still, they looked just right, made to be held, to be grabbed, to feel them tight under him while he fucked the breath out of you.

Joel also noticed the guy standing next to you, tall, broad-shouldered, always keeping a close eye on you. He’d suddenly dropped whatever argument he was having with Tommy, his attention fixed on you both. One day, he said low and discreet, “Saw we got a few new folks in town.” Tommy nodded. “Found ’em on the road. Seem like good people. Just a guy and his younger sister.”

So that man wasn’t your boyfriend… good. That was better for Joel, easier to swallow. As the days passed, his obsession only grew, he saw your brother around town, always hanging with a group of other guys, but you… you were nowhere to be seen. Every evening, Joel would walk past your house, hoping for just a glimpse of you through the window, but the curtains were always drawn tight. It was clear you were struggling to settle in. Maria only confirmed his worries. “I’m worried about the girl,” she said once. “Told her to go see the doctor for a check-up, but she hasn’t been yet.”

Joel felt like an evil genius when the idea popped into his head. And yeah, maybe some people wouldn’t think it was the right thing to do, but God knew he was a lonely man, he’d been one for a long time, and he was so fucking done handling his own horniness by stroking his cock alone in bed every night thinking of you.

So what if he had to lie a little to get close to you? What if he had to make up a story, just a little one, so you’d finally look at him the way he needed? So you’d smile, so you’d let him in, so you’d let him touch you like he wanted. After all, there weren’t good people anymore in this world, sometimes you had to be a little shady to get what you wanted, and all Joel wanted was you, so really, who could judge a man for following his impulses and doing what he needed to do?

Joel spent the next few days scheming. He tracked your brother’s patrol shifts, searching for the perfect moment when you’d be alone at home, just you, no interruptions. He even managed to sneak a few medical supplies into a worn leather suitcase from the hospital, just typical stuff: a stethoscope, a thermometer, small details to make his act look real, convincing. Every piece carefully chosen, every step planned.

You woke up from the nap on the couch you were taking, groggy and disoriented, the muffled sound of sturdy knocking pulling you from sleep. You rubbed your eyes, and padded slowly to the door. On the other side stood a man in his mid-fifties, you’d guess. With salt-and-pepper hair brushing back from his temples and a beard peppered with white, his weathered face lined with the kind of creases that only came from a hard life. He looked rugged, capable… and completely unfamiliar.

“Afternoon,” he said, offering a big, polite smile that was all teeth.

“Afternoon,” you replied, your voice sounded a little shaky from the unexpected visit from a man you’d never seen before. “May I help you?”

“’M Doctor Miller,” he said, extending a calloused hand. You hesitated, just for a second, but then took it, his grip firm but not rough. “You’ve had us a little worried. Been expectin’ you at the clinic for a check-up.”

So that’s what this was about. You exhaled softly, relief mixing with irritation, you’d been avoiding that particular appointment, the last thing you wanted was to strip down under fluorescent lights and let strangers poke and prod you under the guise of care. Still… you didn’t know how to say no without sounding ungrateful, the people here had been kind since you arrived.

“I… didn’t think it was mandatory,” you said, voice soft but careful.

“It ain’t,” Joel replied, eyes narrowing just slightly like he was trying to read something behind your expression. “But when folks don’t show, we get concerned. S’not about rules. It’s about makin’ sure you’re all right.”

“I’ll… I’ll stop by soon. I promise.”

He gave you that same too-big smile, tilting his head slightly. “Oh, but sweets… ’m already here, ain’t I? So why don’t we kill two birds with one stone ‘nd go ahead with the check-up?” Before you could form an excuse, he stepped forward and crossed the threshold of your doorway.

“I-I don’t know. I really appreciate it, Dr. Miller, but—” You weren’t sure, you weren’t exactly comfortable, no matter how kind he looked… or how handsome he was.

“Nonsense, sweets.” His voice dropped its warmth, sounding colder now. He was already setting the leather case down on your coffee table, glancing around like he owned the place. “You can’t keep postponin’ your health. Check-ups are important, yeah?”

He stood in front of your couch, and made a subtle gesture with his hand for you to sit down. Something about the way he carried himself made it feel less like a suggestion and more like an order. You hesitated, but then slowly, you stepped toward the couch and sat, still unsure, but reasoning with yourself. Why not? A check-up wouldn’t hurt, and Dr. Miller seemed… nice enough. He’d gone out of his way to come see you, hadn’t he? It’d be rude to just turn him away. The people of Jackson had been nothing but kind and helpful since you arrived. You told yourself this was no different.

“Sit down, yeah?” he said, voice softer again now, almost coaxing. He knelt in front of the coffee table and opened the leather suitcase. From inside, he pulled a small flashlight and turned it on.

He leaned closer, almost too close, you could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips and chin as he reached up, his fingers rough but gentle, and took hold of your jaw with one large hand.

“Follow the light f’me, sweets,” he murmured, his voice was low, almost a purr. “Gotta check those reflexes.”

The flashlight flicked from side to side, you followed it with your eyes, but even in that brief movement, you couldn’t ignore the fact that his stare was hungry, like he was memorizing every inch of it.

“You’ve got beautiful eyes,” he murmured, and a smirk crept onto his lips as he caught the blush blooming across your cheeks. “Very good reflexes too,” he added with a playful tone, gently pinching your cheek between his fingers before letting go.

He turned back to his suitcase, taking his time as he reached for the next item. “Alright,” he drawled, pulling out a small digital thermometer and holding it between two fingers like it was something far more intimate. “Open those pretty lips f’me now… yeeeaah, jus’like that. Thaaassit.”

As he slowly guided the thermometer into your mouth, his breath hitched. He prayed you wouldn’t notice the way his body betrayed him… the thick, pulsing erection straining against the front of his jeans. Because fuck, watching your plush lips part obediently, the way they wrapped around the slim shaft of plastic… it was too easy to imagine you taking something else between them.

His jaw tensed as he tried not to groan, all he could think about now was your mouth stretched wide around his cock, those soft lips soaked with spit, your eyes looking up at him while he gripped your hair tight and pushed deeper until you were gagging on the weight of his length, until tears blurred those beautiful eyes he’d just praised.

God, looking down at you like that, so sweet, so trusting, sitting pretty on the couch while he held the thermometer between your lips… it did things to him. You looked up at him with those wide, innocent eyes, completely unaware of the filth running rampant in his head, it was almost too much.

The thermometer beeped. “Ninety-eight degrees,” he muttered, pretending to check the screen while he offered you another one of those charming smiles. “Healthy as a horse.”

He reached back into his bag and pulled out the stethoscope next. His hand went straight to the hem of your shirt without hesitation. “Gonna need to undo this… just a few buttons, alright?” he said casually, but he didn’t wait for a yes, his fingers were already working through the first three buttons before you could even react.

And there it was that little peek of your black bra beneath the open fabric. Joel saw it instantly, he noticed the way it hugged your chest, the contrast of the fabric against your skin. He hummed low under his breath, satisfied, his gaze lingering just a second too long before he cleared his throat.

“Now this might be a lil’ cold, sweets. Be brave f’me,” he said as he pressed the cold metal of the stethoscope right against the swell of your chest.“Take a big breath f’me now.” He added.

You obeyed without question, slowly filling your lungs with air and holding it, your chest rising beautifully beneath that open shirt, the curve of your breasts subtly shifting beneath the black lace of your bra. Joel’s eyes were locked onto the bare skin exposed to him, transfixed by every breath, every tiny movement. The way your chest expanded, the soft bounce as you exhaled… fuck, it was too much. The thick line of his cock strained hard against his zipper, throbbing, aching, desperate for release. The image burned into his mind, how you’d feel wrapped around him, warm and wet, completely unaware of just how badly he wanted to ruin you.

“Is everything okay, Dr. Miller?” you asked, your voice denoted innocent concern.

Joel blinked once, dragging his gaze back up to your face. “Mhm,” he hummed, retrieving the stethoscope and slipping it back into his bag. “Lungs are sound. You’re a mighty healthy young lady.”

“Is that it, then?” you asked softly.

He shook his head, giving you that easy, charming smile again. “’Fraid not, sweets. Got a few questions for you next. Just routine, nothin’ to worry about. That okay with you?”

You gave a little nod, and he settled in just a bit closer, his eyes still shamelessly dragging over every inch of you, already imagining the answers he wanted to hear.

“Aight then,” he said, voice casual as he clicked a pen in his hand. “You been feelin’ any pain lately? Anythin’ that don’t feel quite right?”

You shook your head. “No… I’m feeling fine.”

“Good. That’s good.” He gave a small nod, as if he was just ticking boxes in his mind. Then, with the same steady tone, he asked, “What about your cycle? Your period?”

Your eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by the bluntness of it. Joel didn’t miss it, of course he didn’t, his lips curled faintly as he added quickly, “No need to be shy now, sweets. ‘M a professional. This here’s a safe, confidential space. Just me ‘nd you.”

You swallowed, shifting a little on the couch. “M-my period is… it’s fine.” You weren’t used to talking about something so personal with someone you barely knew, especially not a man, but you reminded yourself: he’s a doctor, he’s just doing his job.

“All good? No cramps? You regular?” he continued, his tone was calm, but his gaze stayed fixed on you, studying every twitch of discomfort like it fascinated him.

“Y-yes. It’s all good,” you said again, forcing a smile.

He tilted his head slightly, then asked, “‘Nd what stage you in right now?”

“S-stage?”

“Yeah, sweets. Are you bleedin’? Or ovulatin’, maybe?”

You hesitated, feeling your cheeks warming. “I-I think I’m ovulating.”

Joel made a low hum, almost like a sound of approval. His smile deepened, more to himself than to you. “Ovulatin’, huh?” he repeated. “That’s good. That’s real good.”

You weren’t quite sure why he sounded so pleased. “Why’s that?” you asked pulling your brows together.

Joel chuckled, as if you being clueless amused him. “Oh, sweets, you been doin’ your breast checks, right?”

“Breast checks?” you repeated, blinking in confusion.

“Yeah. Self-exams,” he said, almost fatherly. “Touchin’ your breasts, feelin’ around for lumps, any changes in texture or size. ’S important. Breast cancer’s no joke, sweets. Ain’t somethin’ to ignore.”

“B-breast cancer?” The words hit like cold water. You’d never even considered it, not with everything else going on when you had do survive day by day in the outside world, who had time to think about that?

But Joel was already nodding. “Don’tcha worry, now. We can do it together. I’ll show you how, ’s quick.” His hands moved without hesitation, reaching for the rest of the buttons on your shirt, fingers working with practiced ease.

“D-Dr. Miller… I’m not sure—” You shifted back instinctively, trying to bring your arms up between you, but he was already loosening the fabric.

“Shhh, ’s alright.” His tone was coaxing. “You trust me, don’tcha? This is for your health. I’ve done this with plenty o’patients before.”

Before you could fully register it, before you could think clearly enough to say no, he’d slipped the shirt from your shoulders, exposing your bra-clad chest to the cool air and his heavy gaze. You felt yous cheeks getting even more red, but he didn't even noticed, his eyes were too focused on your bra.

He hummed pleasingly "Bra's gonna have to go too for the exam." His colloused rough hands made their way to your back, easily uncalsping your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

Joel’s mouth nearly watered at the sight of your chest, the swell of your breasts exposed made his breath catch. It’d been so long since he’d last seen a pair of tits in the flesh, not a still image on old paper from a magazine, not some fading memory… this was living, breathing flesh. He watched the way they rose and fell with each nervous breath, how the cool air had already coaxed your nipples into stiff peaks.

“D-Do they look alright, Dr. Miller?” you asked timidly.

He took a slow breath through his nose. “Oh yeah,” he murmured. “Lookin’ real healthy, sweets. Real fine pair you’ve got.”

A flicker of heat bloomed in your stomach, twisting with something that felt like shame, or was it confusion? Was this how a check-up usually went? It didn’t sound right, but you couldn’t be sure, pre-outbreak medicine was a fuzzy memory now for you, you were too little to remember that. Still, he was kind, gentle… professional, right? And he looked so sure of what he was doing.

“Course, I can’t be certain just by lookin’,” he added smoothly, already reaching out again. “Gotta feel em too for any lumps, any irregularities. Standard procedure.”

And before the words even settled in the air, his hands were on you. One cupped each breast, his palms were warm against your skin. It wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t delicate either, his grip was firm, practiced, like he knew exactly what he wanted. His thumbs pressed into the softness, spreading and pushing your breasts together, letting them bounce gently in his hands as he worked them like something meant to be studied and enjoyed.

“Won’tcha look at that,” he muttered, more to himself than you. “Fit perfect in my hands… just how they should.” He gave them another squeeze, his eyes locked on the movement like he was hypnotized. “You feelin’ this, sweets? This is what you’re s’posed to do, press, roll, check for anythin’ outta place. But you? You’re all soft… tender. Just right.”

You sat still beneath him, wide-eyed and warm all over, letting him explore as he pleased. Joel couldn’t believe how goddamn pretty you looked so obedient and flushed, letting him handle you without protest, it lit something hot in his gut. His thumbs circled slowly over your nipples, making them stiffened up under his touch, and when you gasped softly, lips parting just a little, he didn’t hesitate, he leaned in, pinching one sensitive peak between his fingers with a soft pull.

“Attagirl,” he whispered, watching your reaction. “Sensitive there, huh?”

“D-Dr. Miller!” you gasped, startled by the sudden sharp tug of his fingers.

“I know, I know, sweets,” Joel drawled, his was deep and soothing. “I know they’re sensitive… that’s why I gotta check ’em real thorough. Nipples tell me a lot, y’know? All part of makin’ sure you’re healthy.”

He didn’t wait for you to argue, just kept rolling the tight peaks between his fingers, pinching a little harder now, just enough to make your breath hitch. His touch was rougher this time, greedy almost, thumbs rubbing over your soft buds until they ached under the attention. Then, he leaned down without warning, his tongue flicking out to taste you, it was just a tease at first, a quick lap over one nipple, watching your reaction like he was testing your limits. But when you didn’t pull back, just sat there flushed and breathing harder, he took it as permission, and so he latched on fully, mouth wrapping around your nipple and sucking gently, then a little harder, the wet heat of his tongue drawing a tremble from deep inside you.

You whimpered when he bit, just a little, a flash of teeth against tender skin that had you clenching your thighs. He didn’t stop, just switched to the other breast like he couldn’t stand to leave it unattended, devouring you slowly with lips and tongue working your tits with unspoken hunger, like he was savoring every second.

“D-Dr. Miller… is this… is this part of the exam?” you managed to whisper, both confused and aroused at the same time.

Joel pulled back with his lips wet “‘Course it is, sweets,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over the nipple he’d just kissed. “Gotta check sensitivity… tongue’s perfect for that. You’re doin’ so good f’me. Lemme finish takin’ care of you, yeah?”

You gave a small, shaky nod, but you couldn’t ignore the way your panties clung to you now, they were damp, sticky where your swollen cunt pressed into the fabric, heat pooling deep in your core. It was humiliating, getting turned on during something that was supposed to be a routine procedure, but the way Joel had sucked on your breast, the heat of his mouth, the scrape of his teeth, the pressure of his tongue… it had left you aching for more. He caught it, of course he did, he saw he way your thighs had started to press together, your hips shifting ever so slightly like you were trying to find relief without giving yourself away.

“Aw, what’s this?” Joel murmured, his tone still coated in that false professionalism, but you could hear the edge of amusement bleeding through. “You gettin’ a little worked up, sweets?”

“I–I—It’s not… not what it looks like,” you stammered, mortified.

Joel let out a quiet and low chuckle. “Relax. It’s a completely normal biological response,” he said smoothly, his hand giving your tits one last slow, deliberate squeeze before pulling away. “Some nerves get stimulated, hormones get movin’… happens all the time. ’M a professional, remember?”

You swallowed hard, nodding again, though your eyes had dropped to the floor, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. You crossed your arms quickly, hugging yourself, trying to hide your bare chest.

“Your tits,” Joel said, standing tall again. “They’re perfect. Healthy as can be.”

“G-good,” you whispered, curling in on yourself slightly, the warmth between your legs now less shameful and more unbearable, your body betraying you no matter how hard you tried to stay composed.

“Although…” Joel’s voice lowered, taking on a more serious edge. “There’s somethin’ else I’m a little concerned about.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “What is it?”

He looked at you with that same calm authority. “Are you sexually active?”

“W–what?” you echoed, feeling your heart skipping a beat.

“Sexually active, sweets,” he repeated, his voice was steady. “Are you havin’ sex? Anyone been inside you recently?” His hand reached forward, not rough, but firm, pulling your arms away from where you were shielding your chest. “Is someone fuckin’ that sweet little pussy?”

You gasped, that word… pussy… coming from a doctor, from him, it sounded so filthy. Was that even a question doctors asked? Was that relevant? But if Dr. Miller was asking, there had to be a reason, right?

He watched you hesitate. “Answer me.”

“N-no,” you whispered. “Not… not lately.”

“But you’ve done it before, haven’t you?” he asked softly. “Or is that cunt still untouched?”

“I–I’ve done it before,” you murmured, eyes falling to the floor, humiliated by the question, and more humiliated by how your body responded to it.

Joel nodded slowly. “There’s no shame in it. ‘M not asking to be inappropriate.” His thumb brushed lightly over your forearm, almost in a reassuring way. “But I need to know. These things matter, sweets. You could be carrying a sexually transmitted disease, ’nd not know it.”

“I… I don’t think I do,” you murmured, your voice felt so small. “I feel fine.”

Joel tilted his head slightly. “STDs can be silent, sweets. You’d be surprised how many go undetected until they’ve already caused damage. You’d never know unless someone checked.”

You hesitated. “I–I’ve only been with one person. And… it was a while ago. I think I’m okay.”

His hand gently squeezed your knee, grounding you, but also making it impossible to forget how close he was. “Sweets,” he said, his voice dropping, sounding more firm but not unkind, “’M the professional here. Lemme be the one to make that call.”

Your throat went dry. “H-how do you… check for that?”

Joel gave you a slow, almost reassuring smile. “Gotta do a full inspection.” He didn’t blink. “So here’s what we’ll do, why don’t you go ahead and lie back f’me, alright? ’Nd slip those panties down nice and slow.”

You still felt unsure, it was all happening too fast, your mind was struggling to catch up. A doctor, in your home, talking about breast cancer, about STDs, asking intimate questions, sucking your breasts, and now telling you to undress…

Joel’s voice cut through your daze. “‘S alright,” he murmured, already reaching for the button of your jeans. “Lemme help you out.”

You didn’t stop him, your body stayed soft and still, as his rough fingers popped the button open and dragged the denim down your thighs. His eyes never left you, he was watching the way your skin revealed itself to him inch by inch. He paused when you were left in just your panties, Joel wasn’t an impatient man, he’d always believed in the value of taking one’s time, especially when the reward was worth it. But it had been too long since he’d seen a cunt in real life, and he’d been thinking about yours since you stepped in Jackson. With one fluid motion, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugged them down, they slipped past your knees, down your calves, finally pooling around your ankles.

“Go on,” he said softly, coaxing your thighs apart with a firm hand. “Open up a lil f’me, sweets. Gotta make sure I can see what I’m workin’ with.”

Your breath caught as his hands guided your legs apart, wide enough that the cool air hit your most sensitive skin, leaving you exposed, completely bare before him.

Joel let out a slow exhale, his voice dropping to a quiet rumble. “Damn, now that’s a sight worth waitin’ for.”

You looked so goddamn tempting, it knocked the breath right out of him. Joel had never been this turned on before, hell, not even when he was a teenager and just hearing the word “tits” would’ve had him pitching a tent. But this? This was on a whole other level. The way your cheeks were flushed pink, your chest rising and falling fast, your tits full and heaving, and that bare, glistening pussy between your thighs… so puffy, wet, and begging for attention.

He cleared his throat, trying to keep the strain out of his voice. “Everythin’s lookin’ good… at first glance,” he muttered. “But now comes the physical exam.”

“P-physical?” you echoed, already breathless.

“Mhm,” he hummed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Can’t exactly rule out infections without gettin’ my hands a little dirty, now can I?”

You gasped when his fingers brushed over your cunt, just barely, nothing but a whisper of touch, but it lit you up like electricity. You had to bite your lip to swallow the moan threatening to spill out. Joel’s fingertips ghosted along your folds, parting them with precise movements, spreading you open like he had all the time in the world. You were soaked, the slick was gathering thick between your thighs. He didn’t need to warm you up, your body had done that all on its own, eager and responsive, so he slipped one thick finger in, feeling your heat wrap tight around him, your walls fluttering like they were grateful to be touched.

“Goddamn,” he whispered, his eyes locked on how your pussy swallowed his finger as he started to move it in and out, testing how easily you took him. “You’re already clenchin’ round me like you don’t wanna let go.”

“D-Dr. Miller!” you gasped, trying and failing not to let the moan slip from your throat.

“Shhh,” he soothed you with amusement. “Workin’, sweets. Gotta make sure this pretty pussy’s in good shape.”

His finger moved in slow circles deep inside you, the pad of his finger stroking your inner walls like he was mapping every soft ridge, and then without warning, he pushed a second finger in. You were tight but soaking, your slick making it effortless for him to stretch you open. You whimpered at the fullness, and then cried out when he curled those fingers just right, finding that spongy, sensitive spot that made your hips jerk.

“There it is,” he muttered with a dark chuckle. “Jesus, sweets… you’re squeezin’ the life outta me. Can’t do a proper exam if this cunt keeps suckin’ my fingers in like that.”

His filthy words only made it worse, your walls clenched again, fluttering helplessly around him. You felt so exposed, so overwhelmed, the heat kept rising to your face as shame and arousal tangled deep in your belly.

“D-Do I… do I have anything wrong?” you managed to ask, the concern still clinging to you even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch.

Joel didn’t answer at first, he just started pumping his fingers in and out, in a steady rhythm, always hitting that spot every time he pushed back in.

“Everythin’ looks good so far,” Joel said, voice rough as he lazily thrust his fingers one last time before slipping them out. “Your pussy’s soft… warm like it should be. ’nd gettin’ slick all on her own. That’s a real good sign, sweets. You gonna make some lucky bastard very happy one day with a cunt like this.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, torn between the throb of pleasure building in your core and the burning embarrassment climbing up your neck.

He didn’t stop. “Don’t find pussy like this every day… so fuckin’ tight. Hell, like a goddamn fist. This thing’s easily a ten outta ten…” He let the silence hang, just long enough to make you wonder… and then. “…Although.”

Your eyes opened slowly. “…W-What, Dr. Miller?”

He met your gaze, steady and unreadable. “Well,” he said casually, “I’d have to taste it to be sure.”

Your breath hitched. “Taste…?”

“Mhm.” He nodded like it was nothing, like this was just protocol. “A proper taste. With my tongue. Gotta make sure there’s no off smell, no odd flavor. That can be a sign of infection, y’know? Might not show up on the surface.”

You hesitated, feeling your mind buzzing, but Joel just waited, calm and unbothered, like a man who’d already made the decision for you. And… he was the doctor, not you, he’d gone to med school for this, he knew what he was doing. So you nodded, small and uncertain, but enough for him to proceed.

Joel didn’t waste another second, he dipped his head down, and the first thing you felt was the hot, humid drag of his breath ghosting over your soaked cunt. Then the slick heat of his tongue, starting at your entrance and slowly gliding up your slit until it flicked your clit with a hungry swipe. He groaned into you like he was the one being touched, one lick wasn’t nearly enough, he dove back in, tongue flattening against your folds before he began lapping at your pussy with filthy enthusiasm, no hesitation, no shame, just desperate, starved need. He slurped and sucked, swallowing every bit of slick you gave him, like he was trying to get drunk on it.

“Dr… Dr. Miller—i-is it okay?” you asked, your voice sounding breathless and shaky.

He pulled back, his chin was wet with you. “Oh, sweets…” he rasped. “This pussy? Ain’t no fuckin’ 10 outta 10.”

Your stomach dropped. “N-no? What’s wrong? Did you find something?”

Joel’s lips curled into a wicked grin. “This pussy’s a goddamn 20 outta 10. Addictive as hell. Got one little taste and now I can’t stop.” He punctuated it with a filthy, teasing suck to your clit, making you cry out and jolt in place. “You think you’re ready for another test, sweets?” he asked.

You nodded before you could stop yourself. “W-what kind of test?”

“Well…” he drawled, kissing your inner thigh. “I gotta check the sensitivity of those nerve endings real good. Make sure everythin’s workin’ the way it should. I’m gonna eat this pretty pussy til you give me a proper orgasm. That sound alright?”

“An-an orgasm?” you repeated, your voice trembling. “A-Are you sure, Dr. Miller? I don’t think that’s—”

“Yes, sweets,” he interrupted firmly. “An orgasm. What’s wrong? Don’t trust me now?”

“N-no! I trust you, I do…” you rushed to say, feeling your cheeks burning. “It’s just… I’ve never heard of this kind of exam before…”

Joel gave you a slow, almost patronizing smile. “I know, sweets. That’s ‘cause most doctors wouldn’t even know what to do with a pussy like this. But I promise you, it’s very standard practice in my hands.” He licked his lips. “Now… can I continue?”

You gave him a small, shaky nod. That was all he needed, he dove right back in. His tongue found your clit instantly, giving it a slow, languid lick before sealing his lips around it and sucking hard. Your spine arched off the couch, a desperate cry catching in your throat, but he didn’t let up, he alternated between torturously slow flicks of his tongue and rough, greedy pulls that had your hips jerking, your thighs shaking around his head.

“Oh—oh, Dr. Miller, that’s—oh God!” you gasped, shame burning hot in your cheeks as your body betrayed you, letting your hips rock up into his mouth, your cunt soaking his tongue with every hungry stroke.

“That’s it, sweets,” he murmured against your dripping heat. “Let it all go f’me. This pussy tastes like heaven… be a good girl and give Dr. Miller that orgasm.”

He fucked you with his tongue in deep strokes, his nose pressed to your clit as he devoured you like a man on a mission. His tongue pushed in and out of your soaked hole while his mouth kept working, messily and hungrily, until your thighs were trembling around his head. A few more filthy sucks on your swollen clit and it hit you, your orgasm ripped through you like a lightning strike, so intense it made your toes curl.

Joel finally pulled back, his salt-and-pepper beard glistening with your slick, and he licked his bottom lip like he was savoring the last drops of something too good to let it go to waste.

“H-how’d I do on the exam?” you asked in a shaky breath, your chest still rising and falling from the intensity of your climax.

He smirked. “You passed with flyin’ colors. Those nerve endings are real sharp, sweets. And you… you look like a fuckin’ angel when you cum.”

You would’ve blushed if your face wasn’t already burning. Embarrassment swelled in your chest, and instinctively you tried to close your legs.

“Ah-ah.” Joel’s voice dropped. “Did I say you could close your legs? Don’t be shy now. Exam ain’t over yet.”

“Th-there’s more?” you asked. What else could there be? He’d already fingered you, tasted you, made you cum…

“Oh yeah, sweets,” he drawled. “See, elasticity’s just as important. I know you could take my fingers, and they’re pretty damn thick, if I do say so, but I need to know for sure you can handle somethin’ longer and thicker. That’s crucial.”

“W-what do you mean by… longer and thicker?” your voice was barely a whisper, part of you knowing the answer.

Joel just chuckled, as his fingers moved to undo his belt. The sound of the buckle clinking made your heart skip, and your eyes dropped, his pants were already stained with pre-cum, a big, dark, sticky patch from how much he’d been leaking and creaming just from tasting and playing with your soaked pussy.

“Need to make sure you can take cock, sweets,” he said. “Real cock. Not some sad little inch from a boy who don’t know what to do with it.”

Joel let his pants drop to the floor, and the second you saw what he’d been hiding, your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes widened, lips parting in stunned silence as you took in the sheer size of him. Calling him big would be the understatement of the century, that thing between his legs was massive. His cock stood proud and thick, his shaft decorated with pulsing veins and his tip was flushed angry red, glistening with arousal like it had been waiting for this moment for too long.

He spit into his hand, then wrapped his fist around his cock and gave it a few lazy strokes, the wet sound making your thighs clench. “You ready for it, sweets?” he asked like a warning and a promise all in one. “You’re in for one hell of a stretch.”

“Dr. Miller… I-I don’t know…” you stammered, glancing between his cock and your own trembling body. “It’s too big. I don’t think I can…”

“Hey.” His voice was gentler now, but still rough around the edges. “Don’t be scared. Pussy’s made to stretch. ’Nd yours?” He gave himself another pump. “Yours was fuckin’ built to take this cock. I’ll make it fit. You just relax ’nd let me show you.”

Before you could get another word out, Joel had already lined the fat, swollen head of his cock up to your entrance. He didn’t even have to push, your pussy was practically sucking him in, but when he did press forward, a broken little cry slipped from your lips. His tip breached you, forcing your slick heat to stretch wide around the thick crown. It burned with a delicious, overwhelming sting that lit up your nerves and had your body twitching as it tried to adjust to the impossible stretch of him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweets,” Joel groaned, his voice sounding ragged. “Ain’t never felt anythin’ this tight. This pussy’s one of a fuckin’ kind.”

He was in heaven, his cock finally buried in something warm, wet, real. After too many lonely nights and too many empty fists, this was paradise, and it was too good to hold back. With a low growl, he gave one rough thrust, burying all of himself inside you in one deep, punishing stroke, balls flush against your ass as he bottomed out.

“Dr. Miller! F-fuck!” you whimpered, your eyes went wide and teary as you tried to breathe through the sheer fullness, your pussy pulsing around every thick, twitching inch of him.

Joel might’ve meant to give you a second to adjust, hell, he swore he would, but the moment he felt your cunt gripping him like a vice, all thoughts of patience went out the window, his brain short-circuited. He pulled out nearly to the tip, then slammed back in with a grunt, hips snapping forward hard. Then again and again, each thrust was more aggressive, more desperate than the last, his cock punching deep into your slick heat like it was the only thing that had ever mattered.

“F-fuck, sweets,” he gasped, barely holding himself together. “You feel too fuckin’ good. Oh, what the hell are you doin’ to me?”

“D-Dr. Miller—f-feels so—so good,” you whimpered, your voice trembling with every sharp plunge of his hips.

“Ohhh yeah,” Joel groaned. “This pussy’s got a damn good grip… stretchin’ out real nice f’me. That’s it. That’s how a good pussy’s meant to be… tight, warm, and takin’ it.”

His heavy balls, slick and wet from the mess leaking out of you, were smacking against your ass, the sound was obscene and echoing around the room, a wet rhythm that matched the ragged moans pouring from both your mouths.

“Yeah, sweets?” Joel rasped, panting hard above you. “You feel that? Feel me deep? Tell Dr. Miller exactly how his cock’s makin’ you feel.”

You could barely breathe, barely think, but you managed through moans and gasps to reply. “F-feels deep… l-like in my belly… and—and I’m so full, s-so full…”

Joel grabbed hold of your legs, his big hands lifting them high and folding them over his broad shoulders, the new angle had him driving deeper, and your breath hitched at the overwhelming stretch. “You feel me deeper now, huh?” he growled.

You nodded frantically, gasping as one of his hands moved to your belly, pressing against the firm bulge of his cock slamming into you. The extra pressure he was applying made you cry out, your back arching as pleasure ricocheted through your entire body. And he nearly lost his mind when he saw the outline forming in your tummy, his cock visibly stretching you from the inside, he couldn’t get enough of the way your body molded around him, squeezing him tight, holding him like you never wanted to let go.

“Look at that,” Joel rasped. “See where I am? That’s me, right up against your fuckin’ cervix, sweets. Deep in this perfect little body.”

You were too cock-drunk to respond, your mind was hazy with nothing but him. Joel’s cock was battering some spot inside you that had your legs trembling, your toes curling, your brain going static from the pleasure.

“Hey,” Joel grunted, slamming in harder to yank you back from the edge. “Focus. Last test now. You need to gimme one more orgasm. Need to feel this pussy clench up tight with my cock this time. Gotta make sure you’re really healthy.”

You nodded, unable to do anything else, Joel’s fingers dropped between your thighs, finding your soaked clit, he rubbed rough, fast circles matching the steady, brutal rhythm of his thrusts and it didn’t take long, you broke with a scream as your orgasm tore through you, your cunt pulsing around him, milking his cock with desperate, needy squeezes.

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, tipping his head back. “Just like that. That’s what I needed.”

Joel growled feral, like something barely human. His hands locked onto your hips with bruising strength, fingers digging into your flesh as he slammed up into you with punishing force. You cried out, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, maybe a little from pain, but mostly from the sheer overwhelm of it, of him, of the way he was wrecking your pussy with every desperate thrust. He was chasing his release, starving for it, and with the way your cunt kept fluttering around him, hot and soaked and gripping him like it didn’t want to let go, he didn’t stand a chance.

At this point, the head of his cock was pounding deep against your cervix, bruising it with every merciless thrust “Shhh,” he cooed. “I know ’s a lot, but you can take it, sweets. You’re doin’ fuckin’ amazin’ in this test.”

“Ah… ah!!! Dr. Miller!” you sobbed.

His fingers brushed the tears from your cheek, gentle for a quick moment, before his hips slammed into you harder than before, like he wasn’t letting you go for anything.

“Just a lil more, ’m almost there,” he groaned. “Last part of the test is seein’ how this sweet pussy can take a big load. ’S very important.” He moaned, “Oh goddamn, you’re cuttin’ off my cock’s blood flow, sweets.”

You squirmed beneath him, your body instinctively clenching around his as he kept pounding with a fierce, almost violent intensity.“Fuck-fuck, gonna cum—”

He drove in one final time, burying himself balls deep, cock twitching as he came hard, like he hadn’t had a proper release in years. You gasped at the feeling of the thick, molten ropes of cum spilling inside you, coating your walls and filling you up to the brim. You whimpered as he slowly pulled out, he was watching in a daze as his cum spilled from your used and abused hole in lazy drips, wetting the couch beneath you.

“Look at that,” he said watching your hole flutter around nothing. “Pretty pussy’s tryin’ to keep it all in, yeah, that’s real fuckin’ good, sweets. Means your body’s workin’ just right. Strong breedin’ instincts, just the way it should be.”

“S-So… how was the test, Dr. Miller?” you asked through a dazed smile.

Joel looked down at you with dark, satisfied eyes. “Oh, you exceeded, sweets,” he said, giving your thigh a possessive squeeze. “But just to be thorough… I’ll need to schedule a follow-up next week.”

A/N: I was totally on a roll writing this, it ended up longer than I thought it would cause I just couldn’t stop writing, barely got any sleep last night cause I stayed up all night to finish it, I already had most of it planned out in my head and I was so motivated I couldn’t stop until it was done😭 I could definitely spend more time polishing it, but honestly? I proof-read it once and I kinda like how it turned out, so I decided to just drop it like this.

It’s my first time writing something a little more on the dark-ish side, so I really hope you all enjoy it!! And if you do, your comments, reblogs, and likes make me extra happy. Thank you so much for all the support🩷🩷

dividers by: @/haecunt

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whimsicalwritersstuff · 5 days ago

Note

please please PLEASE more hyperspermia with joel. maybe a longer fic where he just keeps filling reader over and over and over and talking sooo filthy. maybe sprinkle in some mean joel… 😔

(need this man #raw)

One more

Parings: mean!joel miller x fem!reader

Content warnings: explicit content 18+, overstimulation, breeding kink, hyperspermia, degradation (calling reader 'milkslut', 'cumdump'), praise kink, cock bulge/belly bulge, cum inflation/swollen belly, hair pulling and slapping, possessive and mean!joel, choking (consensual), dirty talk, use of pet names 'babygirl' and 'sweetheart, excessive cum play, potential physical exhaustion/weakness of reader.

Word count: 1000

Your body's already trembling neath him, the sheets ruined, soaked with sweat and slick and cum, but dosent stop.

He can't.

He needs it.

Needs you. Like this.

He mutters something under his breath, something low and filthy and before gripping your hip, hauling you up onto your side. You're pliant, twitching, a gasp trapped in your throat as he rolls you, presses his chest to your back and sinks back inside your slick, aching cunt.

Slow. Deep. Possessive.

"Fuck- joel-"

"Shh. Shh, baby. I know."

His voice is all gravel and heat, right at your ear as he presses his palmdown over your belly. "Just one. Just need one."

But it's never just one with him.

He drives in again. And again.

Thick and hard and dripping wet, dragging the mess of himself lit of you, only to bury it back in with a bruising slap of skin. You're so full, streched wide and trembling as he fucks his cum deeper and deeper inside. "So fuckin' tight," Joel grits out, sweat dripping from his jaw onto your shouler. "You feel that, sweetheart? That's all me. All that mess dripping down your thighs. Fuckin- look at you." He fists your hair and makes you lift your head just enough to see the bulge in your stomach, his cock, thick and swollen, pushing up against the swell in your belly as he pistons inside you.

"Milkslut," He growls.

"That what you wanted? That why you were beggin' earlier, grindin' all needy on meoke some dumb little bitch in heat?"

You whimper, tears spilling. It's too much- but you crave every second of it. "Uh-huh," He smirks, breathing hot filth into your skin.

"You like being red, don't you? Like gettin' filled up, leaking all over the fuckin' sheets like a messy little whore." His voice drops, darker now. The pace is brutal. The sound of your soaked pussy clapping against his hips is loud in the room,arched only by your stuttering moans.

"Mine"

A hard thrust.

"Mine"

Another.

"Say it."

You can't even form the word, not when he's gripping your throat, not when your brain's short circuited from the pleasure, your cunt spasming around him from the fourth orgasm he's wrung our of you in the last hour.

He doesn't care.

"Say it."

"Y-Yours, Joel- oh fuck, I'm yours-"

"That's right, baby."

He slaps your ass, watching it jiggle. Watching you take it.

"Good fuckin' girl, such a good little cum dump for me. Gonna fuck a baby into you, keep you swollen all the fuckin' time."

You clench.

That breaks him.

His thrusts go sloppy as he empties into you again, groaning loud, hips grinding into the mess between your thighs, making sure mome of it leaks out. "Goddamn - take it, sweetheart. Don't spill a drop. You hear me?" Your thighs are shaking. His seed is leaking. And Joel just laughs, low and mean.

"Better get used to this, darlin'. 'Cause I ain't pullin' out ever again."

~~~

You've already lost count.

Maybe it was the third time he came- maybe the fifth. It's impossible to know anymore with how long he's kept you pinned, stuffed full of his cock, held there like a ragdoll while he fucks you into the mattress. His chest is slick with sweat, body heavy and burning against your back as he thrusts up into you, rutting slow and deep. Every movement makes your cunt squelch loud, messy, soaked in his cum and slick and spit and who the fuck knows what else.

"You hear that?"

Joel bites your earlobe as he pushes in to the hilt.

"You fucking hear that, baby? That's me pourin' into you again"

And he is.

You feel it.

Another thick gush floods you as he groans, hips grinding in tight, desperate circles, pumping rope after rope of heat so deep it makes your eyes flutter back. The pressure builds in your belly, a warmth that spreads slow, growing fuller, heavier, deeper.

"Shit- fuck," You whimper, voice shaking. "Its- joel- it's too much, I can't-"

"You can, sweetheart. You will."

He smirks into your neck, teeth grazing skin. "This cunt's made to take it. My messy little milkslut."

Your belly's swollen now, soft and rounded where his cock bulges up through your skin. His hand spreads wide over it, pressing down just enough to feel himself from the inside. "Fuckin' look at this," Be growls, voice dropping filth.

"Can feel my cock through your tummy. You're so fuckin' full, babygirl. Stuffed to the brim and still takin' it. "

He pulls back just an inch only to ram in again.

A squirt of cum spills from between your thighs. It's not the first time. Wont be the last.

"There it is. Can't even hold it anymore."

He watches it leak down your ass, pooling beneath you on the sheets.

"Made my own little cumdump. Look at that mess. So greedy for it. "

Another thrust. You sob into the pillow, overstimulated and burning. Your thighs are shaking, soaked with slick and sweat and his endless release.

"Gotta keep fuckin' it back in"

He shoves deeper, groaning.

"I ain't done. Not 'till I plug you ful. 'till there's no room left in that little pussy of yours."

You're whimpering, clawing weakly at the sheets.

"Say it," He grits out, slapping your plump red ass.

"Say what you are."

"I'm- I'm your- your milkslut," You gasp, breath hitching.

"Fuck Joel- I'm your filthy little milkslut-"

"Good fuckin' girl."

Another load floods you. Thick, hot, endless. Your belly streches a little more beneath his hand and Joel moans sl deep it rumbles against your back. "That's it. Take it. Take every last fuckin' drop." When he finally stops moving, cock still twitching inside you, you feel it. The sheer weight of him isndid. How soaked you are, how ruined.

But Joel just keeps you there. Plugged full, your cunt fluttering weakly around him.

You're shaking.

He laughs softly and strokes your belly.

"Gonna knock you up real good this time, babygirl."

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kiss-me-muchoo · 2 days ago

Text

NEED TO BITE HIS ARMS AND THEN BEG HIM TO GRAB AND HOLD MY HIPS WITH THOSE ARMS AND THEN ASK HIM TO CHOP ONIONS AND MUSHROOMS FOR OUR DINNER WITH THOSE ARMS

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters

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paulyenvol6 · 2 days ago

Text

All Mine, All Yours

Based on this request. I haven't really written much about switch!Joel before, but I had so much fun with this request and I hope you're gonna like it too. Enjoy :)

Contains: smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, nipple play, handjob, powerplay, dom/sub dynamics, switch!Joel, switch!reader, fight for control, dry humping, cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, begging, hair pulling, established relationship, soft!Joel, nicknames like baby/sweetheart

Wordcount: 7,620

Masterlist

You basically danced through the door.

Heart light, fluttering almost as you pressed the bag, the perfect, beautiful bag of your dreams against your chest.

"Joel?" you shouted, fingertips prickling and blood throbbing with adrenaline. Butterflies were swirling in your stomach and it felt the same way it did whenever Joel locked eyes with you, only that this time it wasn't love that had awakened them, but this amazing purchase. Well, maybe it was also the anticipation of seeing Joel.

If only you knew where he was…

"Joel?" you asked again while opening the kitchen door and now you finally received an answer.

"Yes, baby. In 'ere," his southern drawl echoed against the walls and your broad smile intensified. Light-footed, you trotted across the floor and then twirled through the kitchen straight into Joel's arms, who was just leaning over the couch to adjust some pillows.

"Baby," he chuckled as you pressed yourself against his chest, arms instinctively draping around your back.

"Everythin' alright?"

"More than alright, Joel. Look at this!"

You lifted the sultry-colored leather bag, dangling it in front of his face and excitedly biting down on your bottom lip.

"I found this baby at Martha's. It was love at first sight and I was so obsessed with her, I couldn't stop looking at her and Martha saw it as well and offered me to trade."

The joy your face radiated was contagious, your boyfriend smiling as he looked between you and the leather bag.

"That's so amazing, sweetheart, I'm so happy for you."

He kissed your cheek before brushing with his thumb over the sumptuous fabric.

"What did you trade it for?"

You pursed your lips, lashes fluttering as you looked up to him, face drawn apologetically.

"You're not gonna like it, baby."

Joel raised a single eyebrow. "C'mon. You can tell me."

You sighed and twisted your lips.

"I traded my boots…. I know it's not ideal and I – I'm gonna get new ones, I swear, but… I just couldn't resist. I'm sorry – "

That was the moment when Joel cut you off, pressing his lips on yours to shut you up. Then he withdrew just an inch or two and cradled your head in his large palm.

"Don't ya apologize. You definitely have to get new boots for the winter, but we can take care of that. Tommy can surely get you a new pair. And we can trade the jacket that I got for my birthday. I have two anyways. I'm just happy you're happy. You know I love nothin' more than seein' you smile… And that 'lil smile was already worth it."

His forehead touched yours and he closed his eyes while you felt like you were drowning with love for this man. It was almost too cheesy what he was saying, but nonetheless his words had the desired effects. You were melting in his arms.

"Thank you. I am happy. It's the most beautiful bag I've ever seen in my life. I'm gonna wear it all the time from now on and I – I can't believe Martha was so kind. I thought – I thought she wouldn't trade a bag like that."

Joel kissed you again, more demanding now as he sucked on your bottom lip.

"It's gonna go amazing with your black dress," he whispered against your mouth, hot breath tingling on your chin and his beard stubble scraping over your skin.

"Which one?"

"The short one. With the red buttons."

You grinned, connecting your hand with the side of his face.

"Yeah, you're right."

"It's my favorite one, you know baby? Love the way your body looks in it," Joel growled, his grip on your cheek tightening while his other hand moved to your waist.

"I know," you smirked again and couldn't help but shiver at the way Joel didn't make any effort to hide his boundless lust for you. You were a sucker for this kind of behavior. Nothing got you off more than seeing the person you desired both metaphorically and literally on their knees for you. Completely at your mercy and almost uncontrolled with their need to touch and kiss you. When they worshipped every inch of your body like it was holy and a priviledge to just get near you. And fortunately, Joel was exactly the kind of guy to give you this. Being with him meant feeling like he had waited all his life to meet you, like he would burn the world down just for a simple glimpse from you.

"Sit down," you breathed against his lips, gently nibbling and biting as he didn't immediately react.

"Joel," you repeated and softly pushed against his chest. God he felt so firm and strong beneath you, which made your knees all wobbly.

"Yeah baby, just…" he started, but then stopped midsentence as he took a step back. The back of his knees touched the edge of the couch and a last push against his stomach was all it took to make him sit down. Without any hesitation you climbed onto his lap, knees trapping him underneath you and your arms wrapping around the back of his neck.

"Mhmm baby you know what you want, ain't that right?" he grunted in your ear, palming your waist and sending little shock waves through your chest as his hands dragged upwards until they reached the swell of your breasts.

"I do. And there's nothin' you can do about it. 'Cause I know you will do as I tell you."

You kissed his nose and then trailed a line from his ear along his jawline, leaving a wet trace. You had begun to rock your core against him, your pussy clenching around nothing as you felt him grow underneath you. It was the perfect stimulation, the perfect pressure on your clit and hearing his ragged breath only motivated you further.

"Will I, pea?" he murmured, groping your left breast, which elicited a gasp in you.

You knew what this was. You knew that Joel was waiting for the right moment to take over and take control and as much as you loved it on certain days, you wouldn't give up that easily today. Perhaps it was the high you were on right now or just your ovulating body, but you were in the mood for a little battle of dominance. It was tempting to just lay back and let your sweet, sexy boyfriend take care of you, but seeing him suffer and hearing his little moans were a turn on as well and you sometimes felt like you didn't get to see it as often as you liked to.

Therefore you grabbed a handful of his dark greyish locks and held on tightly, testingly and maybe even warningly tugging as if to tell him how this was going to go tonight. You simultaneously pushed yourself closer to him, straddling his lap and hovering right above his crotch.

"Yeah, you will. 'Cause we both now what you want. And you're gonna get it, I promise, but only if you'll be good."

You saw a sparkle in his eyes, a light glint, which made you think that you had maybe already won the fight. At least he didn't reply, but looked up to you under his lashes. His lips were slightly parted, breath hitched and broken as he glared at you, his dick clearly twitching as you lowered youself on him.

"Look at me, Joel. Eyes are up 'ere. Keep 'em on me while I make you feel good or I'll stop."

Your voice didn't sound as confident and unbothered as you had planned it in your head, but your boyfriend seemed to realise that you had the upper hand right now. He locked eyes with you, not even flinching when your clothed pussy came in contact with him, dry humping him in slow and teasing circles that weren't enough for you either, but it was worth his pantings. Yet, Joel didn't stay completely still. He still had his hands on your chest, kneading your flesh through the fabric of your t shirt and rejoicing when he realised that you were not wearing a bra. It was perfect for twisting your nipples between two fingers, pinching and rolling them just enough to cause you a little bit of pain and make sure he had your attention.

"Fuck…," you moaned, eyes rolling back and your motions on his lap getting unsteadier.

"Yeah, baby… Let it happen, you know you just wanna give in. You wanna let me take over. Your body wants it."

He had hummed those last words, the effects of the way his dick rubbed over your core visible, but he tried everything right now to keep it hidden. At least until he had won this battle.

"Shut up or I'm gonna put your mouth to work," you managed to say under breath, cheeks blushing with a telling pink.

"Oh I would love that. I truly would. I would love to taste your pussy 'n' have 'er drippin' for me but we both know you're afraid of that. You're scared you're gonna lose control 'n' stop havin' the upper hand."

Joel suddenly leaned forward and pushed your shirt up in the same moment, which allowed him to press a open-mouthed kiss right on top of your stiff nipple. You sharply inhaled, chest involuntarily arching against him.

"Oh god. Oh, fuck, Joel."

You wanted to slap yourself. Not only because you were angry at yourself and wanted to punish yourself for being so cock-dumb and responsive to his touch, but also to ground yourself. Make yourself snap back to reality, so you could take matters into your own hands again and continue where he had interrupted you. You wanted to roll your hips against his bulge again, feel him throb underneath you until he was just about to burst and begged you with his puppy eyes. But god, did this feel good. His wet mouth pressing kisses around your nipple while his large hand traced the outline of your other breast. It was so warm and slick, so comfortable and messy – just the way you liked it…

Suddenly you shrieked as Joel let go off your nipples and wrapped two arms around you, standing up with you clinging to his body.

"What are you doin'," you said, pinching your eyes shut at how weak and needy your voice sounded.

He secured his hold on you, putting one hand under your butt and the other around your shoulder and then effortlessly, like he barely felt your weight, carried you to the bedroom.

"Need more space for what I'm gonna do to ya," Joel smirked, seemingly oblivious to what his hoarse voice was doing to you. You softly moaned and kissed his neck just to do anything. You were tired of fighting back and refusing to give in to his touch, so what if you were just going to let go? Let him take over and allow you to feel the most amazing and enthralling kinds of pleasure? You knew how good this man was and how well he knew your body. But at the same time, you were yearning for his pleasure-drawn face, the way he would pinch the nose of his bridge while you were giving him head.

In the end you decided to delay the decision and for now let him bring you to the bedroom. Then you could choose whether you wanted to continue your fight for dominance or let yourself go. Joel carried you through the bedroom door and then dropped you onto the bed. Not roughly, not aggressively, but like you were made of glass and would break if he tossed you. You hated it. Not because you didn't enjoy his gentle hands holding you so carefully and tenderly, but you knew why he was doing it. He wanted you to feel so comfortable that you forgot all about your initial plans for tonight. He knew what buttons to push, when to clench a possessive hand around your arm and when to affectionately brush a strand of hair behind your ear. You should love the way he knew his way around your body and you really did, but in moments like this you hated the way he took advantage of it. Because it was working.

You gave him your biggest doe eyes as you lay on your back, watching him take off his shirt in one swift motion before throwing it behind him. You licked your lips at the sight of his toned body, shoulders broad, and chest so strong, you just wanted to lean yourself against him and let him not only hold you, but all the weight on your heart, all the pain you had ever experienced in your life. Not that there was a lot of pain left now that you had settled down with Joel in Jackson, but meeting him hadn't just made everything that had happened to you in your past disappear with a snap of your fingers. He had made it better, sure, but even he couldn't make you forget about the life you had before Joel had stepped into your life. He could make it so much more bearable, though.

"C'mere," you smirked, gesturing with your finger for him to approach. But he shook his head, as if to say that he knew exactly what you were trying to do. Regaining the upper hand.

Maybe that was why Joel hesitated and took all the time in the world as he headed to the dresser, grabbing the glass of water that was on top of it and taking a large sip. This was a power game, a battle of who was able to last longer and right now you feared that he was winning it. Joel watched you over the edge of the glass and you swore you could see the grin he wore in his eyes. Then he slammed it back down, wiped over his mouth and approached you with forceful, deliberate large steps. He was heading to the bed on his terms now and not because you had told him to.

"You like to watch, huh?" he whispered once he was standing next to the bed, hand reaching down to cup your chin. "Couldn't keep your eyes off me. Did you enjoy the show, sweetheart?"

You sat up a little on the bed, your eyes roaming his bare upper body, stopping at his hairy chest.

"I did. You look so pretty strippin' for me. Who could blame me?"

You had felt confident saying those words, but a single glance up to him made the blood in your veins quiver. God he looked so gorgeous. His lips were stiff, eyes dark and chin high like he didn't accept any rebuttals, no matter what he said. You couldn't help it as your lashes fluttered, your stomach flooded with hot pressure. You needed him so badly, preferable between your legs where he would lap up the mess he had created with just his voice and if it meant letting him take control, perhaps it would be worth it…

Joel didn't give you enough time to finish your thoughts because now he was sitting down on the edge of the bed, still towering over you, but closer to you. His hand around your chin was firm, even when you were squirming in his grip and flashed your eyes at him.

"You're gonna give me somethin' now? Or do I have to? You could almost believe that you're scared of this pussy," you hissed, in a flash of inspiration reaching for his dick, but Joel slammed a hand on top of yours the moment you touched him through his jeans.

You wriggled, trying to create any kind of friction just so he would be distracted enough for you to have your comeback and luckily it worked. For a moment at least. You seized the opportunity to escape from his grasp, swinging your leg over his lap and climbing on top of him while wearing a triumphant grin. You could feel him shift underneath you and then exhale through his teeth as you started to rock yourself against his hard dick again.

"Baby…," he made, gripping your hips tightly to control your movements, but you slapped his hands away.

"Shhh…," you hushed him, grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him. "You just enjoy it, pretty boy. You just take it and let me make the both of us feel good… I know you can do that, right?"

Joel seemingly fought with himself, face twisted with indecision, but lucky for him, you wouldn't leave him a choice. You just had to keep him close, wrap him around your little finger and work the two of you up until you had taken his mind was off your little game. Until all he could think about was the way your body felt against him, how you touched him.

You picked up the pace, softly moaning at the pressure on your clit. It wasn't a lot – there were several layers of thick clothing separating your most sensitive spot from Joel's manhood, but the slight tease, the barely tangible friction kept you on the edge, ready and eager for more. But first you had to take care of Joel and make sure you had him on the tip of his toes.

"Baby," he whispered again, eyes closing as your hand came in contact with his bugle. You palmed him through his jeans, watching him fall apart underneath you and then found the opening of his belt. It was a swift and deft motion, which almost surprised you, considering your hands were so shaky. But then his belt was off, carelessly thrown on the floor and all you had to do until you had him bare in front of you, was pull down the zipper of his pants. You kept your lips pressed to his while blindly opening his jeans and then immediately grabbed his hard dick, which caused Joel to deeply growl against your mouth.

"Mhmm yes…," you commented, smugly grinning and tugging at his jeans in order to undress him further. Joel fortunately offered his help and lifted his hips so you could take his jeans off along with his boxers, but you couldn't wait until he had kicked them off his feet. You just wrapped a hand around his thick girth the moment you laid eyes on it and almost started to drool at the angry red tip. This man was suffering, leaking and twitching for you like no man had ever before and you adored it. He wanted you badly and he wasn't just telling you so, but his body gave it all away. And in this moment you swore that nothing could ever give you more confidence about yourself than his heated gaze skimming over your body like he wanted to remember each inch. Giving you his perfect brown deer eyes, staring up to you so deliciously.

"Like what you're seein', baby?" he grunted, attempting to grab your thigh again to push you closer, but you were prepared and just slid with your hand up his shaft, eliciting a low moan in him.

"Jesus, baby… You don't even – know what you're doin' to me."

"Oh I have a pretty strong idea, handsome," you smiled evily, brushing with your thumb over his tip. It felt so hard and stiff under your finger, leaking and burning with the desire to bury itself inside of you. But he had to have a little more patience.

You briefly thought about going down on him, the glistening of his precum surely made it tempting. But kneeling in front of him would mean that he got to move again, perhaps even use the moment of physical dominance to pull you up, throw you onto the bed and disturb your plans. And you had him right where you wanted him right now. Therefore, it was decided. You would delay it to another night. It was his own fault after all – him putting up a fight over dominance had led to this very moment and although you regretted not being able to feel him twitch at the back of your throat, this game was more important to you right now.

"You want me to ride it? Mhm? Want me to put it in my pussy and ride it until you fall apart? Until you won't say anything but my name?"

Joel sharply gasped, chest heaving rapidly, but fingers gripping the bedsheets to release the pressure buidling up in his stomach.

"You better shut up and focus on whatever you tryin' to do there."

You gritted your teeth, although you obviously knew that he was playing unbothered while he clearly wasn't unaffected by your hand around his dick. He was much too hard for that. His cheeks were too red and his forehead too sweaty. You tightened your grip, increasing the pressure with which you stroked up and down his dick. He felt warm and heavy in your hand, the texture smooth and a little velvetry. But what you loved most about his dick were the veins that were entwining his shafe – because you knew how beautifully they scratched over your walls when he was inside you.

"Jesus, baby," he hissed through clenched teeth, the vein on his temple prominent. He was restraining himself, fighting not to break, but you would get him there, you were sure. You wanted him to beg for you, plead with you to let him cum in your hand like a pathetic teenage boy.

"I know. I know you wanna cum an' you can, you know?" you whispered, combing through his hair before travelling down his thick neck.

"Just let go, Joel… Be good for me, I know you want to so badly…"

You were already expecting him to burst, hand clenching hard to push him over the edge, which was why you shrieked in surprise when you were suddenly flipped over.

This bastard.

He had thrown you onto your back, now hovered over you with a smug smile that you wanted to slap out of his face and trapped you beneath him, unbothered by the way you flared your nostrils.

"You asshole," you hissed, hands taking hold of his broad shoulders, but Joel just laughed at you.

"Aww my pretty girl… There's no use playin' it cool. Once I start with you, you're gonna do exactly as I say. And you're gonna like every second of it."

You didn't doubt that, truly.

Joel knew his way about your body better than yourself, you thought at times, but still, you were mad for the way power had slipped out of your hand just like that.

You narrowed your gaze, chin up high as he kissed along your jawline, one hand firm around your waist and the other on your cheek. Skillful fingers unlaced the buttons of your shirt and took it off faster than you were able to blink and then your eyes rounded as his lips made contact with your stiff nipples.

"Joel…," you involuntarily whined, but instantly regretted it.

It just felt too good. The bed was so comfortable and soft underneath you and you could just sink down into the cushions and let him do all the work. And his heated gaze, the sparkle in his eyes that lit up every time you moaned his name…

"I know babygirl… I know what you need. And if you stopped fightin' it, I'd give you the most divine pleasure. No need to try 'n' get on top, I got you."

God, he knew what he was doing. His hands grabbed your breasts, kneading and massaging like he wanted to carve the memory of their shape into his palms, your nipples hard between his lips when he sucked on them. You were a moaning mess, squirming and writhing under the weight of his body and you weren't even sure yourself if you were doing it because of the sensation or because you were still fighting for the upper hand.

You were just about to complain that you needed more, when Joel's hands dropped to the waistband of your jeans. Perhaps he could actually read your thoughts.

He opened the button, pulled down the zipper and then yanked them down your legs with one forceful tug, but let them dangle around your knees. That was the moment you met his gaze and based on the curl of his lips, you knew that you must look pathetic. Eyes glossy, hair sticking to your forehead and lips swollen from the way you bit down on them. You couldn't supress the 'Please' and hoped that it at least was so quiet that Joel couldn't tell what exactly you had said. His lips just formed a playful pout, then he lifted the corner of his mouth like he was thinking and spit on his index and ring finger.

His eyes were on you at all times while he brought his hand between your thighs, blindly finding your clothed clit and rubbing you in soft circles. That was the moment you officially felt that you had lost because your facade dropped, the crease between your eyebrows deepening and your lips parting. And he enjoyed every second of it.

"Yeah babygirl… I knew you could be good. Just feel it, stay still and keep that pretty mouth shut and just enjoy what I give ya. You know I'm so good to my pretty baby."

"Joel," you whimpered, reaching for his chest and regretting that he didn't wear a shirt you could cling to.

You spread your legs wider for him, welcoming his touch on your throbbing clit and feeling yourself drown in a dense, hazy cloud of sheer pleasure. Fighting with him for control, using all your strength to crawl on top of him was difficult. But this wasn't. This was just taking, letting him do as he saw fit and trusting that he knew exactly what you needed. Soon your underwear that had already been damp before Joel had taken off your jeans, was absolutely drenched with your arousal. The cotton was sticking to your cunt and a big dark patch was visible right below your leaking hole. You were relieved when he hooked his fingers into your panties and pulled them down for them to join your jeans around your bent knees.

"Look at that…," Joel murmured, scratching over the corner of his mouth like he was studying what hid between your legs.

"Please Joel. Please I – I need it."

"What was that?" he pretended to be surprised, lifting his eyebrows as you twisted your face in frustration. He was going to make you repeat it and then mock you with it for the rest of the night.

It was to your surprise that he didn't.

Joel just briefly caressed the side of your face, brushing over your burning skin and softening at the way you arched off the bed to get closer to him. Then he kissed the tip of your nose and made his way down your body, slow and teasing and eager at the same time. It was as though he was trying to savour every moment, be precise and slow in the way he kissed and licked your skin, but couldn't hold back because his own desires were too overwhelming. This combination was intoxicating, absolutely captivating. You felt the sensation in the way your belly clenched the way it always did when you were close to orgasming. Which was remarkable, considering Joel had barely touched you yet. You felt light-headed, your skin buzzing and prickling where your boyfriend's lips touched you and when he had finally reached your mound – remains of spit on your chest and stomach – you inhaled sharply.

He kissed you like it was meant to show you how much he had waited for this very moment. It was just your mound, but he made it feel like he hadn't seen your pussy in months or years and had missed every inch of your body.

"Joel," you said, voice airy and thin while your hands grabbed as many locks as you could reach.

"I know," was all he said and you had a feeling he actually did know.

And then he dived between your legs like he wanted to be suffocated by your pussy. Mouth pressing hard against your clit, tongue quickly swirling around the little bundle and greedy hands opening you up wider for him. His hard grip on the inside of your thighs would surely leave marks, but in this moment you couldn't have cared less.

"Fuck… Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," you cried out, toes curling and heels pressing into the bed. A blissful, warm liquid poured in your thighs as the thumping in your chest intensified.

Joel looked up to you, brow wrinkling and eyes flashing as he took in your fucked-out face. With deft and deliberate precision, he drew random patterns over your clit, sometimes going faster, then slower again – always keeping you on the edge of the seat and intensifiying the pleasure whenever you were about to complain and wriggle.

At first, you didn't even notice the two fingers prodding your entrance. You were too hooked on the way his rough, warm tongue lapped at your clit to sense his fingers trailing along the inside of your thighs until they slowly tapped against your hole as if to demand entrance. You hummed, lashes fluttering and hands tugging at Joel's locks as he worked two fingers inside of your quivering cunt. Any other day you might have felt embarrassed by the way you sucked him in, pussy so soaking wet that it produced a smacking sound. You unconsciously started to roll your hips against his face, riding him and trying to regain control over what was happening, but Joel set an end to it with his bruising grip on your hips.

"Stay still, baby. Or I'm gonna stop."

His voice was unwavering and sounded like he didn't expect an answer from you and although you were sure he was just as captivated as you were, you didn't want to risk anything. So you pressed your lips together, legs shaking and your core yearning for more pressure, but you held back and hoped that he would make it worth it.

Joel continued his meal like he was a man starved, lapping and slurping up every drop of your sweet juices until his beard was glistening. His stubble created wonderful friction as well – always a thin line between the most thrilling kind of pain and pure pleasure. Soon your skin was red and itchy, but you didn't mind, couldn't mind. Joel had such a wonderful way of putting your mind elsewhere.

"You taste so good, sweetheart, you know that? And it's all fuckin' mine. Every inch, every drop, every moan… S'all made for me. No one's ever gonna touch this pussy except for me, ain't that right?"

He draggingly guided his tongue through your folds, stopping at your clit to blow some warm air over it.

"Say it. Say whose pussy this is and who gets to touch 'er."

"It's yours, Joel," you whined, surprised by how little effort it had cost you to make yourself say those words. To make yourself give in to him. "S'all yours. You're the only one I want."

He grinned, eyes skimming over your swollen slit and then he leaned in to continue to suck on your pearl while his fingers inside you moved in circles. He was massaging your walls, pushing up against the sensitive and most hidden part of your body while gifting you immense pleasure with his tongue and it was no wonder you were already so close. So close, you felt that if he continued like that, it would be minutes, seconds maybe until you would orgasm, but you couldn't give in. At least that was what a voice inside your head was telling you all of a sudden.

Don't give in. Don't give him the satisfaction of cumming so fast on his fingers and tongue. Seize control and make him beg.

You inhaled greedily, stuffy air filling your lungs, which gave you the opportunity to speak up.

"F-Fuck me," you managed to stutter, hands pulling at his hair to make him look up to you. "Fuck me, Joel."

It was your easiest shot. If he was to enter you with his dick, you might be able to set the pace. Joel lost his mind every time he worked himself inside you for the first time and that might be the moment for you to lead.

"I want you to cum before I do," he replied, the movement of his lips against your clit sending shock waves through your core. He didn't slow down, if anything he picked up the pace with which he kitten-licked your clit and hell, you didn't have the strength to speak up again. How could you, if his fingers felt so good being snug inside you. If his mouth worshipped your bundle of nerves, kissing and showering it with love.

And so you came all over his face, knees buckling and hips lifting off the bed to press yourself closer against him. Joel dragged his tongue through your slit, collecting your wetness and savouring it in his mouth like it was something holy.

"Oh my fucking – " you managed to bring out before squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back. Your neck was flexed, every vein and tendon visible and your legs trembling as wave and wave of pure, hot tension rolled through your body. In the end all that was left of you was your pliant, slack body, clinging to the bedsheets.

"That's it, honey…," Joel just whispered, soothingly stroking up your thigh to settle his hand on top of your stomach.

"The most beautiful fuckin' thing I've ever seen," he added, pressing his lips to your hip bone and then crawling up to lay on top of you. He had licked up every ounce of your arousal and now his lips and beard were sticky and wet.

"Look at me, babygirl. Gimme those pretty eyes."

He brought a finger under your chin, carefully adjusting you so he could take a look at your pleasure-drawn face.

"You know that you make the sweetest noises when I fuck you with my fingers? So goddamn perfect, sweetheart. Just wanna spend the rest of my life between those legs… Jesus, you're a dream."

He leaned in to kiss your forehead, lips loosely brushing over your temple before moving the hair out of your face with his big hands. Slowly, you began to regain your powers, sight clearing up and the pounding of your heart calming. Still, you didn't feel as strong as you sounded as you whispered the following words.

"Will you fuck me now finally?"

Joel sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and just grinned.

"You're a greedy 'lil thing."

"And you're an exhausted old man."

You ran a hand down his front until you could grab his dick, eyes flashing as you felt him twitch in your grasp.

"You're not that much younger."

You ignored the comment and stroked him while making sure you kept eye contact.

"I wanna be on top," you whispered against his lips, already wrapping a leg around his hips so you might be able to flip the two of you over.

"I'm sure you do…"

You frowned, chewing on the inside of your cheek, which made him chuckle lowly.

"Ask me real nice and I'll think about it."

Joel suddenly removed your hand from his length and pumped his dick while aligning himself with your entrance.

"Please," you begged, although your stomach twisted.

"Was that enough already…?"

"Please, Joel. I'll make the both of us feel good."

He wryly grinned, but then finally gave in, rolling off you, lying down next to you and guiding you to straddle his center. You smiled like you had achieved this on your own, grabbing his broad shoulders for leverage. Then you reached for his cock again and brought his tip to your hole with your heart beating like thunder. Your pussy ached for him, clenched and fluttered around nothing and just the thought of feeling him stretch you was enough for you to break into sweat. Yet you tried to overplay it with a quiet scoff, blaring your teeth when he flinched in your hand.

"Pathetic, isn't it? You're pratically dripping for me."

Joel inhaled through his teeth, running a hand through his hair to tame the mess.

"Baby, Don't tease. Fuck, don't," he muttered. All of his initial cockiness was gone after just one of your strokes up his dick.

"Oh now it's me that's gotta play by the rules?"

You smugly smirked, painfully slowly dragging his tip through your folds, stopping at your clit for some extra stimulation.

"I didn't – fuck… I didn't tease you like this."

"Shhh. Just look at me. If you're good, I'll reward you."

And then you slowly guided his tip to your entrance, but you were yet to let him enter you. You just tapped it against your pussy, going in tight circles that made Joel fall apart underneath you.

"Baby, fuck… Please, I – god, you're – please."

"Say it again. Tell me how much you want it. Tell me how much you want me to ride this dick."

Joel's head dropped forward, brow coming to rest on your shoulders while he choked on his own breath.

"I need it. Please, fuck, I need it so bad. Please, I – I'll do as you say. Just please."

You laughed out loudly, grabbing the side of his face and tilting his head to look into his eyes.

"You beg so sweetly, pretty boy. You think it's enough?"

You knew how cruel you were being, but you couldn't stop yourself. Not after the way he had taken the reins so brutally earlier.

"Jesus, c'mon… I need you, please. I'll be good. I swear."

You sank down on him at his last word, eliciting a low growl in him. You were soaking wet and properly opened up from the time he had spent between your legs, so you had absolutely no problems taking him in one go. The two of you gasped out simultaneously, eyes wide at the way he filled you so wonderfully. Once you had lowered yourself all the way down and he had disappeared inside you, the sensation was so overwhelming that your head swam and you suddenly felt dizzy. But Joel seemed almost worse. He cussed under breath, shaky fingers gripping your hips to ground himself.

"Oh god… Oh baby, yes. You feel so good 'round me."

His hoarse voice made you snap back to reality and you slowly moved your hips in circles, still getting used to his size. A quiet whimper left his throat, one that only motivated you further to make him go insane, so you picked up the pace and rolled your hips like you had learned to do over time, fucking Joel. You knew what he liked, what made him feral and what made his balls pulsate. You knew the way he lost his mind when you changed the angle and how sensitive his skin right below his jawline was. How he jerked when you clenched around him, how he enjoyed the slight sting that was created when you pulled at his roots and how much he loved seeing your chest in front of his eyes while you rode him. And you were more than ready to make him lose his mind.

His cock was filling you so well that you actually had problems focusing on moving steadily yourself, but with your hands on his broad shoulder to support yourself, you managed to keep a pretty constant tempo. And yet your forehead was soon covered with sweat, the salty drops running down your temple and of course Joel noticed it too.

"You need some help there, angel?" he cockily asked, leaning back against the wall as if to show him how comfortable it was for him.

"I think you need someone to fill that bratty mouth of yours," you hissed and glid two fingers into his mouth without a warning. He sucked on them, twirling his tongue around the digits like he wanted to clean them, but the mischievous sparkle in his eyes still didn't vanish and it irritated you.

Before you could say another word, Joel suddenly lifted his hips and drove himself upward, fucking into you. And – destroy your rhythm.

You cursed, brow furrowing and eyes dangerously darkening. And this motherfucker just grinned like he didn't know why you were mad.

"You like to disobey me, mhm?" you purred, taking his wrist and pinning them down on the bed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, hands wriggling under your grip, but you remained unwavering. You gave him another glance, suspiciously watching him through small slits before picking up the pace again and riding his dick that was already throbbing inside of you. He would cum soon, so you didn't understand why he was making it harder for the both of you. Why still trying to gain the upper hand when you were happy to make the two of you orgasm? By now you had brought a hand between your legs to rub at your clit and you knew you were close too. Maybe he had learned his lessons now, you thought, becoming more confident with the way you moved until Joel did it again and this time you almost choked on your own breath.

"Joel," you gasped, lips parted and cheeks flush. Instead of answering he moved again, delivering slow, but deep thrusts into your pussy from below.

"Ah fuck," you whimpered, eyes closing involuntarily. "Joel, you – "

The unfinished sentence lingered in the heated, thin air. You could literally smell the desire off of each other and it was a mixture of sweat and animalistic, primal desire. You were too weak to even notice when Joel freed his hands and brought them to your butt to hold you still while filling your cunt over and over. Your thighs were burning by now, muscles tense and aching from the way you were holding yourself up on top of him, but of course you would never tell Joel. For now you were accepting what he gave you, not that you would have been able to bring up the strength to stop him when he was making you feel so good.

"Touch yourself, babygirl," he breathed, pushing you closer to his center, which changed the angle in a way that made you cry out.

"Yeah I know. I know, honey, you're so close, aren't ya? C'mon let me take care of it."

With these words, he flipped the two of you over again, grinning as your hair was spread out on the pillow. He didn't waste any time pounding your pussy - perhaps he was afraid you would put on another show if he gave you time to realize he had taken over again.

"Now, now," he commented the way your pussy greedily sucked him in, your walls gripping him so firmly, the blood in his veins began to thump. His fingers added more pleasure, rubbing lazy, but precise circles over your clit as he chased his high.

"I want you to cum for me. Cum around my cock, milk him, c'mon."

He pulsated deep inside of you, thrusting in you forcefully until the world stopped for a moment for the both of you. You saw stars and only managed to press out a quiet "You little asshole," before waves of sweet, divine pleasure rolled over you.

The muscles in your lower belly and thighs contradicted, pulsing and twitching as he rode your orgasm out, but then stayed snug inside you while he filled you with his cum. Your face was burning as the high faded, hair sticking to your forehead and lashes fluttering. Your whole body felt numb, limbs pliantly lying to your side and chest heaving.

"Oh my god," you whispered.

It truly had been magical. Joel was always able to give you heavenly moments when he made you cum, but tonight had been something special. Not only had the two of you cum almost at the same time, but it had also been especially intense. You sighed deeply and smiled at the feeling of fresh air filling your lungs. Someone really needed to open a window in here, though.

"You alright?" Joel suddenly asked.

He had dropped his head to your collarbone, eyes shut, but he wore a satisfied smirk.

"Yes. You?"

"Yes."

You tangled your hands in his hair, which stood up in all directions. It felt slightly damp, but you didn't care.

"Did you like it?" Joel then wanted to know and you felt your heart clench, stomach jittering.

"Of course I did," you chuckled, pressing his head closer to your chest. "Did you see how I just came? Did you enjoy it?"

You broadly grinned, stroking up and down the back of his head while fully savouring the weight of his body on top of you.

"Yeah. I love you, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know that. And I love you too. More than anyone or anything else in this world, baby."

His eyelids fluttered briefly as if he wanted to open them, but then changed his mind at the last second.

"Promise?"

Joel's hands tightened around you, pulling you closer to him almost desperately, even though there was no more space left. Not even the thinnest layer of paper could fit between you two.

"I promise."

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xx-kris-sin-26-xx · 1 day ago

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For fck sake daddy chill 🥵🤤💕

#he turned 50 and all filter just melted away lmao

#daddy pascal #daddy pedro #pedro pascal daddy #daddy chill #pedropascaledit #pedrohub #dilfgifs #pedro pascal smut #gorgeous man

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sturniluvr · 8 months ago

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your camera roll dating Pedro Pascal

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jillsandwhichs · 4 days ago

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Summer Lovin'

Chapter 14 to Joel Miller x Reader smutshot collection

Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Driving home in Joel's truck after a cookout with Tommy and Maria, you two don't even make it halfway home before realizing the second you two walk through your front door, your hands will be all over one another

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Married

WC: 2.7k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Making out, Dirty talk, Oral (You receive), Unprotected P in V, Missionary, Doggy style, Couch sex, Spanking, You both finish, Joel pulls out

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

"Well that was fun, huh?" You said happily to your husband, grabbing the seat belt strap and pulling it over your frame, clicking the end of it into the lock. Joel nodded, sticking the key into the ignition of the truck and starting it up, the rumbling sound of his old beauty roaring as the engine came to life once again. "It was." He replied to you, putting one hand on the steering wheel, his other naturally going to your thigh as you sat in the passenger seat beside him, no center console to divide the two of you.

On the radio, a song by Johnny Cash began to play. Considering Joel never changes the station, you aren't surprised one bit. It isn't a bother either being it's turned down quite a bit, only being faintly heard as Joel slowly but surely but his foot to the gas pedal, pulling out of Tommy & Maria's driveway.

The evening was nice, real nice. You all spent it at their place, grilling and hanging out. It was very much needed, just a day off with the four of you and some extra friends and family. You spent the whole night attached to Joel's hip, being all lovey dovey and physically affectionate with him. It was lovely, especially due to the fact he's been off at work a lot more than usual, putting in the extra hours to earn more money for the two of you, being that you're willingly unemployed, which is how Joel prefers it.

Reaching the dirt road just off the side of their house, Joel turned around it, the sound of the noisy blinker being heard as he did so. The sunset is finally occurring, looking absolutely stunning. It is a deep orange, almost a red, and it is set just to the side of your window, deliberately making it's way down and allowing the bright moon to uplift itself into the night sky.

Therefore, the night is still young.

Gandering over to glance at your husband, you began to speak, making silly small talk. "Those steaks were delicious, I mean, wow, I forget that Tommy can really cook." You expressed your gratitude towards your brother-in-law. Joel snickered and gave you another nod, "Where you think he learned that from too?" His southern accent showing as he became cocky. You snorted and smiled at him, "Oh I know dear."

Joel taught Tommy a lot of what he knows now. He's a tough brother, a good one. You loving hearing stories about their youth and how they got on by without their parents really being present. They had quite the upbringing.

"Although," Joel began, his voice deep and his tone somewhat annoyed, "I dunno who that fucker was that kept eyeing you down but if there's one thing I do know," he then peeped over at you, "I wanted to knock them goddamn teeth out of his thick skull." Oh jealous Joel; You like. You know exactly who he is talking about. "The guy that was wearing the red flannel? Yeah, Maria said he was a friend of hers... He was a bit of a creep." "A "bit" is not even close."

You love how overprotective Joel is. He's always been vocal about it too. About how you're his and no one else's and that, he'd kill any man who so dares tries to mess with you or your guy's relationship. Makes you feel secure and honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

Leering to yourself in secret, you reached your right hand over to the arm in which his hand was on your thigh and rubbed it, comforting him. "Oh baby," you hummed to your husband, "That no good hillbilly looking man has nothing on you." You then leaned down and pressed a kiss to his arm, resting your head on it. In the moment, you hadn't noticed but that really eased him up. He was calm in seconds.

"Yeah well, I mean it. You're mine." Joel stated. You shook your head up and down then unbuckled yourself swiftly, scooching yourself over to be closer to him - it's not as if any police are around to see you unbuckled. Resting your head on his shoulder and taking his hand in yours, you sighed deeply. "All yours Joel." That's what he likes to hear. You enjoy this talk as much as he does, if not more. "Good." He then quickly planted a kiss on your head before going back to focusing on the road ahead.

As Joel drove you two home, he entered another dirt road that had fields on either side of it. Living out in the country, this is really all of the scenery you're going to get. You don't mind it, you find beauty in it rather easily. Another fine thing to look at is Joel. He looks so handsome, especially today. Wearing his blue t shirt that's a bit worn out with his stained work jeans, you love it. You like his casual look. Plus, the ways his arms are shown off in this shirt makes you feel all sorts of ways.

"You look so good, you know that?" You hummed out to your husband, kissing his arm again and trailing your finger tips up and down it. "You are handsome." You said softly. Joel breathed in a sharp breath, trying his best to focus on his driving but clearly, he was having difficulties with that, having you on his mind and all, especially now. "And I love how possessive you get, you getting all jealous and whatnot is my favorite." It really does.

Joel then suddenly hit the brakes and you bit your lower lip, having a feeling in your stomach that you're about to get questioned. "What is it you're up to?" Your husband questioned you. Bingo. You smiled with your teeth and shrugged. "What is it you think I'm up to?" "I think you're lookin' to get fucked, what's what I'm thinkin'." Joel scoffed and looked at you, his eyes locked with yours. Oh, you love when Joel gets like this, all serious yet playful at the same time.

You then brought your hand from his arm onto his thigh, slowly drifting it towards his inner thigh and crotch area. "Well," you made a sarcastic, snidy tone apparent before you continued, "I think you should speed this truck on him so you can make me feel so good." You were real close to his ear, then biting the lobe of it for a moment before giggling and pulling away. Joel then pushed his foot on the gas and grunted, "Yeah, just you wait."

The literal minute the two of you entered your shared house just outside of town, Joel shut the front door and grabbed your sides, pushing you up against the hallway wall before kissing you deeply, his lips meshing with yours in a needy kiss. You cackled into the kiss, encasing your arms around his neck area and pulling him deeper into the kiss, opening your mouth for a split moment and giving Joel that sweet chance to use his tongue on you.

His tongue moved with yours sensually, causing you to moan into the kiss, which only further turned Joel on. Pressing his manhood up against you, you felt how hard he was through his jeans. You could just imagine how tight they felt around him.

"Go get your little ass on that couch, now." You squealed at his words and moved up off of the wall and turned, heading towards the couch. As you did, Joel patted your ass, earning a squeak out of you as you plopped down on the couch. Watching him with lustful eyes, you witnessed one of the best sights of all - Joel taking off his shirt. He tossed it on the floor, showing off his dad-bod, mixed with a fit build. You swear there is nothing sexier in the world.

Joel then climbed over top of you on the couch and kissed you again, his smile able to felt into the kiss. Oh Joel and his smirks, they kill you. They make you feel some type of way. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you caressed them as your guy's madeout intensified. You felt Joel's hand trail down your body and between your legs, reaching for your panties underneath your dress. You are wearing a sundress, which is something Joel absolutely adores on you.

With one hand, Joel peeled your underwear off, dragging them down your shaved legs until they reached your ankles. Then, you kicked them off yourself. With the same hand, Joel traced his finger between your folds and nodded, "So wet for me. Good." He said in a deep, Southern voice. You felt your face heat up when he said such things; Even after all of this time, Joel can manage to make you literally blush.

Stopping his kisses on your lips, he instead began to traverse down your body with his lips. He touched you all over with them - your cheeks, jawline, neck, cleavage, stomach over top your dress and finally, your inner thighs. Once he reached that area, his kisses began slower and more passionate, even turning into bites at some point. If there's one thing about Joel, he loves going down on you.

You are the sweetest thing he ever done tasted.

Just then, Joel tucked his head underneath your dress before licking his lips, then, focusing on your soaked pussy. You let out a moan that hosted nothing but desire within it as a long swipe of Joel's tongue was felt being dragged between your pussy lips. You immediately dug your recently manicured nails into the brown fabricated couch you two are on.

The noises that could be heard coming from him and your cunt were ones that, oddly enough, turned you on. Knowing that Joel enjoys eating you out so much brings you immense arousal.

Closing your eyes, you focused on the feeling. Joel's arms being wrapped around your thighs as they practically crushed his head and his tongue slurping up all of your wentess as he repeatedly lapped and suckled at your womanhood, oh, you could revel in this for eternity. "Just like that Joel." You sighed out deeply, biting your lip as your orgasm built up more and more.

His nails dug into your thighs as he picked up the pace of his tongue, continously sucking on your clit down, and occasionally swirling his tongue on and around it. Your back arched in response to the pleasure, and Joel was quick to pull you down, stopping you from moving too much. "It feels so good, God, I can't even..." That's right, you can't even. You can't even finish a sentence at this point.

With only a few more licks on your clit, you were clearly done for. Joel could feel your legs twitching and just by your moans at that, he could tell you were, and that's why he stopped.

"What!? Wait, no-" You began to whine but Joel shook his head and removed his belt swiftly. "Shh baby, don't worry," he threw it on the ground, then undid his jeans, pulling them down his thighs. "Gonna make you feel real good." He nodded before grabbing his throbbing and aching cock, jerking it a couple of times before matching it to your hole, sinking himself into the tightness of it deeply, causing you both to release noises of pleasure.

This is what you needed. All night, you had your eyes on Joel and your mind full of horny thoughts. Finally, acting out on them is just what you two needed most.

Joel settled himself inside of you. "So fuckin' tight, yous already squeezin' me." Your husband grunted out to you as he began to move into you, all while having you in missionary on your guy's couch. You moaned loudly, whispering his name under your breath as he didn't waste much time, fucking into you, hard. "What's that baby?" His tone was teasing, which sort of annoyed you. "Speak up babygirl, can't hear ya." He held onto your thighs, squeezing them as he fucked you.

Rolling your eyes at him, Joel made an "Oh?" Aloud before reaching one hand up and grasping your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Do I gotta fuck that little attitude outta you? Cuz you know I will." You do. You licked your lips and nodded, loving his dirty talk. "Bad girl." His pace then picked up once again, along with the roughness in which he thrustsd into you.

While still using one hand to grip your face, his other went to your breasts, popping one of them out through the V-neck part of your dress, revealing it. He smirked and squeezed it, rolling his finger over your nipple as well, causing it to harden. Having Joel not only fuck you, hold your face, engage in dirty talk and play with your tits, you couldn't imagine you'd be able to last much longer, and nor could he.

"Mmm, kiss me." You moaned out. Joel smiled, "Gladly, my girl." He then leaned in and kissed you, his hands moving to hold onto the arm of the couch as he railed you roughly.

After a few more thrusts and a final deep kiss, Joel inched away from you and chuckled, something clearly conjuring up in his head. "What?" You grunted out, your mouth opened up, faint noises exiting from your throat. He smirked, "Nothin', just this." He then pulled out of you for a second, upsetting you but quickly changing that as he helped you onto your knees, putting you in doggy style on the couch.

You giggled, then squealed as Joel swatted you on the ass before sliding himself back into you, picking up where he left off. "Oh yeah." He grunted, biting his lower lip as he thrusted himself into you, fast. With one hand on your hip and his other bringing slaps down to your rear, you knew you'd be finishing at any given moment. As for him, it's the same way. You can tell Joel is inching closer and closer to his climax.

"Harder baby... Harder..." You managed to splur out, which made Joel attentive. Listening, his hips moved faster and his hand continuously switching squeezing and spanking you, which you simply couldn't get enough of - neither of you could. "Oh fuck." You sighed out, keeping your head down on the arm of the couch in your own arms. It feels amazing. Way too good. Your stomach is warm, and it's only getting hotter.

"You're so fuckin' tight... You gonna cum for me babygirl?" Joel cooed out to you, slapping your ass again, the sound roaming around the room. You moaned out a yes, and that was enough for Joel to spank you once more, which pushed you over the edge.

As you came around him, Joel groaned aloud and let go of your hips, dropping his hands to the side as he himself pulled out of you and nutted all over your lower back side, his white semen seeping off of your arched back. "Oh God." Joel muttered, "Fuck." He laughed, causing you to titter too.

That sex was immaculate.

Joel reached over on the coffee table and snagged a few tissues, wiping your back off before rolling the paper thin towels up and dropping them on the table before helping you back into a sitting position. You giggled and moved the hair from your face, it being a bit sweaty and red. Joel gandered at you and smirked. "My girl," he leaned over and kissed your cheek, "You sure know how to make a man feel good." "Ha," you nodded tiredly, "I try." You laughed.

Then, Joel stood up and picked you up, earning a squeak out of you as he patted your bum once more, making his way to your guy's bedroom so the two of you can cuddle and get some much needed rest.

#the last of us #tlou #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #joel miller x you #pedro pascal x you #smut #the last of us smut #tumblr fyp

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notjustjavierpena · 3 days ago

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imagine javi comes home grumpy and tired from work, and you decide to make his night a little bit better. by cooking his favorite meal and giving him some good head

Good Enough

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Hi anon! Did you know it has been nearly two months? Well, Hubby has been asleep in my mind but he is finally back. I wrote this over the weekend. Enjoy!

Summary: You turn Javi’s day around, knowing what he needs. Some TLC!

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, humor, fluff, life with kids, reader is pregnant, hurt/comfort, banter, kisses!!, cuddling, devotion, blowjob, come swallowing, dirty talk, praise kink, whimpering javier needs its own warning

Word count: 4.7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67874396

Good Enough

You know something is wrong when you receive a text from Javier during his lunch hours. He isn’t much of a texter, never has been, except for those first few months when you started dating back in the day and he frantically tried to make himself interesting and available. With defeat, he had admitted that he hates the T9 system, pressing ‘7’ four times just to get a goddamn S, so now texts between you consist mostly of grocery lists, funny things that the kids do, and perhaps a risky one-liner or two.

You are lounging on the couch with the remote in hand, half-watching TV, distracted by the way your screen lights up. You think through the possible scenarios, but you shopped for dinner yesterday, the oldest kids are at school, Sebastian is coloring in the living room, and it has been a regular morning without much flirtation.

“Let’s see what Daddy’s rambling about,” you say out loud to Sebastian, unlocking your phone after your eyebrows have risen into your hair at the sight of four unread messages.

Hubby [11:42 AM]: tell me why milton got the project instead of me today

Hubby [11:42 AM]: Ive been doing the work for three fucking months and this pendejo (loser) gets to be in charge because he wears a necktie better?

Hubby [11:42 AM]: i feel like shit baby i hope he chokes on his dryass sandwiches

Hubby [11:43 AM]: didn’t even get to kiss you this morning and that’s probably the whole fucking problem

You stare at the screen for a moment, rereading the way he called you ‘baby’ like he needs some tender loving care that he doesn’t quite know how to ask for when he’s downtown at the university. You can feel yourself starting to miss him, can feel yourself yearn to make him feel good.

“Jesus, Sebby,” you huff out a small laugh in disbelief as you read it a fourth time. You look at your son, your snickers making your pregnant belly jump a little. Sebastian doesn’t put down the crayon to look at you, too concerned about making the sky orange by nearly snapping the coloring pencil in half from the pressure, “Daddy used a whole bunch of adult words in this.”

You ponder a reply just long enough for those three dots that indicate another text is going to pop up at the bottom. You quickly write something back, halting the next rapid-fire texts, not because Javier will have a tantrum if you don’t, but rather because it is clear what kind of day he is having, and you want to be the one who turns things around for him.

You [11:45 AM]: If Milton ever cured his sandwiches of being dry, he’d have a permanent mustard stain on his necktie.

Hubby [11:45 AM]: u are an evil woman

Hubby [11:45 AM]: i love you

You [11:46 AM]: I know ;) Let me kiss it all better when you come home.

Satisfaction rushes through you at the image of him snorting a laugh, his shoulders slumping in relief as he reads your message. You miss your grumpy husband even more now. You call for Sebastian, watching your babbling toddler waddle excitedly towards you and tumbling into your arms with a huge, delighted grin at getting your attention. You kiss his chubby cheeks, earning yourself a high-pitched giggle, and can’t help thinking that Javier always makes beautiful, tiny clones.

“Do you miss Daddy as much as I?” You ask him in a soft, dreamy sigh when you’ve dragged him into your lap. He smiles a near-toothless smile, reaching for the straps on your dress with a clumsy hand. You press your nose into his fine hair and inhale the familiar smell of baby, doubting if Javier could ever top this one, “Hmhm, of course, you do.”

You sit there for a while, blowing raspberries on Sebastian’s round cheeks while he rests against the twins in your belly. You think about how he must feel right now, unappreciated, inferior, and overlooked, and ponder what to do about his horrible mood. You decide that you will have his favorite food ready for dinner. After all, he’s told you many stories of his mother preaching that good food fixes nearly everything.

That and something else that isn’t appropriate to think about in the company of your son, something that is ignited in your lower half as you think about the kiss that you owe him. You’ll give him that and more.

You look at the time on your phone, suddenly realizing that you need to get a move on if you want dinner to be ready on time. You get up from the couch with a grunt, Sebastian on your hip.

“Your Dad’s pissed off, Sebby,” you say in a serious manner, but the playfulness shines through when you can’t help the smile that spreads on your face. Sebastian grins back, “But don’t worry. I’ve got plans.”

—

You make a call that day, but it isn’t for Javier. Instead, you dial Chucho with a special request. His smile is evident from his tone, able to be heard in the way he says your name.

Later, you place Sebastian in his carrier, strap him to your back, and head out with a grocery list. The day passes quickly with shopping for dinner and packed lunches, conversations with a 1-year-old, and picking up the kids from school.

By dinner time, the house smells of browned beef, toasted herbs, and the classic mix of sautéed garlic and onion that makes people curiously ask what you are cooking because it smells heavenly.

On top of it, you’re slow-cooking everything, which means that you have time to make flour tortillas from scratch. It is an easy way to gather the kids around an activity, so when Javier steps inside the house and drops his bag with a relieved sigh, the whole dining table has been turned into a tortilla-making station. A mess, really.

No one notices him at first, too busy flattening out small pieces of dough or clapping hands together until flour explodes like fireworks before falling like snow. He tiptoes towards the kitchen, catching a glimpse of you all in silence.

There are specks of bread flour in your hair, dried tortilla dough on your forehead from where you have tried to brush your hair away, and a look of concentration on your face as you try to keep control of the chaos by giving guidance over everyone’s excitement.

Sebastian is making toy car tracks in a finished tortilla that Inés has stolen from Lucas’ already impressive stack. On her side of the dining table, she has her own stack of finished tortillas, but in a totally different shape than the traditional round ones.

You gather finished products or flatten out the ones still too thick, occasionally pressing your hand into a surprising kick from the twins. You don’t even hear him either, giggling lovingly as you pull a piece of sticky dough from Seb’s mouth in an echo of ews from his siblings.

“What’s going on here?” He announces his presence with a grin but, you can see the tiredness in his eyes.

“Daddy!” Inés registers him immediately. She tenses up in excitement before she leaps off her seat and runs to him, bending her knees to spring into his arms. He catches her with a grunt, settling her on his hip.

“Papá! Look what I made!” Lucas joins and holds up a perfectly round tortilla with both hands. He grins and runs to him too afterwards, sporting a missing front tooth that he proudly announced he was missing last week.

“You’ve been busy for dinner,” Javier ruffles his son’s hair as he hugs his side. Your husband smiles at you with all the love he has for this moment, telling you paragraph-long sonnets of affection without even saying anything. He looks calmer already, like the tension is slowly seeping out of him until his shoulders come down completely.

“Alright, monitos (little monkeys), let mamá and the babies come through,” you cut through the noise of their eager voices. You step forward to place your palms flat on his chest, scratching slightly as you lean in for the long-awaited kiss.

It’s soft, sweet, and slow, a kiss that drags on a little longer than usual because you both have so much to make up for after the rushing during everyone’s morning ritual. Javier kisses you a second time the moment you try to draw back, hands cupping your waist, and you let him with a surprised snicker. It elicits a loud ’bleurgh’ from your kids, their feet shuffling back to the table where your youngest squeaks happily at seeing them again.

“This is what I get for throwing a tantrum, huh?” He jokes after you finally pull away, but there's guilt of having complained when he gets to come home to this, and his colleague probably doesn’t.

“Tantrum? This is just what you get for coming home to us,” you tease, but you still mean it. On days like these, Javier needs to know that he doesn’t have to do anything to earn the comfort of home, that if he feels unappreciated at work, he only needs to enter through the front door to know that life will stop moving without him here; the place where everyone is always happy to see him.

He visibly softens, rewards you with another longing kiss, sliding his hands around your body until they rest on your lower back. The sound of your kids fades into the background, butterflies roaming around in your chest.

It takes a few more heartbeats before you part. He looks at you, at the tortilla factory, and then at you again for comedic value, “So what’re you making exactly?”

“Carne guisada,” you reply and turn to follow his gaze. Inés is making a flower shape, and Lucas is picking up Seb’s truck after he has dropped it on the table from his highchair, “I called your dad for the recipe.”

Javier’s brows shoot up, “Mom’s?”

“Mhm, and there’s dessert if you’re good,” you reply in a whisper as if it is nothing, leaving him with the same shocked expression to go check on the pot that has been sitting on low heat for an hour. It is bordering on perfection at this point, needing just a little more time for you to be able to cook the tortillas on a skillet pan next to it.

Javier regains his composure shortly thereafter. He finally walks to say hello to Seb, who flaps his arms excitedly when he is picked up from his high chair. Javier sits by the dining table with his second son in his lap. Life’s good, you think to yourself as he asks the kids about their day.

—

The second Javier takes his first bite, scooping some of the meat onto a wonky tortilla, his eyes widen slightly, and he lets out a surprised hum.

He chews for barely a second before he takes another bite that makes his eyes roll back into his skull, arms dropping to his side as he slouches back into his chair and groans exaggeratedly. You know this move, know that he does it to make the kids laugh, and sure enough, tiny giggles fill the air as they parrot him by digging into their dinner.

“I can’t believe Pops gave you the secret ingredient. It tastes just like hers,” Javier says in playful exasperation after everyone has started to eat.

Inés wolfs down her plate. Lucas tries to copy his father. You help Sebastian tear his tortilla into much smaller chunks, placing them all over the meat and rice on his plate. He curiously grabs whatever he can, gripping his dinner with force, and eating until his face is covered in sauce.

“I could charm myself to his credit card number,” you tease, wiping sauce from Sebastian’s face with a napkin. You make faces at him as he grins at you, smacking his palms on the table.

“You probably could,” Javier admits softly and reaches for his glasses of water, speaking around the rim, “He is under your spell too.”

“Mom’s a witch!” Inés exclaims excitedly, proud of her joke. Javier chokes on his water, and you snort, but mostly, both of you are just thankful that the word didn’t start with a B.

However, Lucas looks horrified and nearly drops his tortilla, “You can’t say that! That’s mean!”

“It’s not mean,” Inés retorts matter-of-factly and picks a piece of onion that she thinks is too big off her plate, “They have cats and I want a cat.”

“Only girls who eat their dinner get to be witches,” Javier reaches to tap her plate, “And I know for a fact that this witch is still hungry.”

As Inés starts eating with her hands again, Lucas wipes his fingers on his napkin, “Mom, can I have a fork?”

“Sure, mijo (my son),” you say softly and suppress a small smile, “You don’t like your fingers getting sticky?”

“No, thank you,” he pushes his chair away from the table. You caress his back as he passes you. He steps through to the kitchen, rummages through the utensil drawer, and returns a moment later.

“Witches are only real in movies,” he argues after sitting down again as if he’s thought about it the whole way, “You can’t just become one.”

Inés is smug with conviction as she holds her glass with both hands, nearly forgetting not to talk while she drinks, “Luke is just scared because I am hexing him first.”

“Mom!” Lucas complains, and Sebastian reacts to the word with a squeal.

“Inés, no hexing your brother at the dinner table,” Javier takes over just when you’re about to say something, giving you a breather after having dealt with them all afternoon. The frown line on Javier’s forehead has faded away since he came home earlier.

You lean back and watch with a soft expression of gratitude, letting your palm repeatedly skim over the rounding of your pregnant belly.

—

Close to ten, you step through to the bedroom after a soothing hot bath that Javier told you to take when one of the twins got the hiccups in your stomach. He had completely taken over the winding-down routine; bathed the kids, helped Inés brush her teeth at the back, cuddled and tucked them in, read Buenas Noches, Luna, and kissed the tops of their heads.

You emerge wrapped in a towel, skin still warm and damp, and find him sitting on the edge of the bed, undoing his wristwatch. He looks tired and ready for bed after the hassle of today, but he’s still only taken off his jeans.

“You’re still dressed,” you point out. You pass him to get to the dresser and ruffle his hair affectionately.

He gives you a tiny smile, reaches for his tie after placing the watch next to himself, “Wanted to see you before I fell asleep.”

You guide your hand over the many fabrics and eventually pick out a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. You turn to face him again, dressing as fast as your body allows and steadying yourself against the furniture, “You okay after today? You were grumpy.”

“You should have seen me at the office, mi amor (my love). I was ready to call them fucking idiots to their faces,” Javier snorts a laugh, but he’s clearly still not over it, “Sorry, but it just pissed me off.”

You walk to stand between his knees and lay your hands on his slumped shoulders, massaging the tension in them absentmindedly while you speak gently, “It’s okay. You can vent, if you need to.”

He looks up at you briefly before he leans forward to rest his forehead against your chest. He sighs, but it is not only from defeat; there’s some contentment in it too, “I was the goddamn sheriff of Laredo for ten years and now I have to get used to not being the boss, living with the fact that other people make stupid fucking decisions, and… I don’t know, maybe I did too when I was in charge, but I would have never let someone like Milton take all the goddamn credit after jumping onto the project last minute. Makes me feel like a failure.”

You lean down to kiss his hair multiple times, forearms on his shoulders, “You’re not a failure, Javi. The project is one of many. You’re still a rookie at the university, and that’s okay. You’ll get your turn.”

He tilts his head backwards until he is staring into your eyes, the hurt of it all evident in his tired gaze, his bruised ego. He is grieving, but it is the loss of the part of himself that was sharp, authoritative, and most importantly, respected.

“It’s not just about the project, mi vida (my life). It’s like… I know what I’m talking about. I know how to teach but I still feel like a cop playing dress-up, like they’re just waiting for me to slip up so they can say I never belonged in the first place,” he almost looks pleading, like he needs your words and kisses as a balm to his hurt pride, “I’m just the loser guy who used to chase loser guys across rooftops and now uses true crime to get undergrads to care about criminal theory.”

“That’s ridiculous, Javi, baby,” you coo softly like he’s a kid who has scraped his knees. You peck his lips but draw back with a smirk, “You’re so much more than just a loser.”

“Ha-ha,” he deadpans and pouts.

“You’re a husband, a father, a friend… a son, but with that, we could argue if you’re a good one,” you kiss his face with each title. A peck to his cheek, to his jawline, the corner of his mouth. It’s the kiss to his lips that makes his hands slide to your hips as it develops into something more, something grateful and hungry. He holds you close afterwards, heavy against your chest as you cradle him gently.

“You always know how to fix me,” he says softly.

“Yes, if you were broken, I would, but you’re not,” you reply with the same kind of softness, and he responds by kissing you again, words failing him.

There’s a million thank yous in the way that he kisses you, a million I love yous too. He skims his hands up your arms to cup your face while you work at the buttons of his shirt, quickly undoing them so you can get the collar away from his neck.

You kiss him featherlight right by where his pulse beats beneath the skin, spoiling him, making him shudder in your arms with a moan. He reaches downwards again, starts pulling at the hem of your top, but you have other plans. Plans of getting him out of his head, treating him, showing him devotion.

You stop him by moving out of reach, slowly sinking to your knees in front of him and sighing as soon as your knees hit the floor. You’ve been cooking all afternoon with a baby on your arm, so this position is your reward. That and getting to spoil your husband, wrap your lips around his cock, and hear him whine.

Javier says your name, “You don’t have to.”

“I know,” you kiss the part of his thighs that are exposed below his briefs, “But I want to give you something that Milton definitely doesn’t get to have.”

“What?” He furrows his brow, still on the brink of another attempt at getting you up from the floor, but you have already spotted how he is half-hard from merely getting his neck kissed.

You look up at him, grinning mischievously with a stare that means nothing but sex, “Me.”

“Oh fuck,” he groans, composure slipping away as he slowly gives in. He reaches back to rest on his hands, leaning back a little to scoot towards the edge of the bed.

“And besides,” you continue, hands sliding up his broad thighs until they tense beneath your touch, “I bet dryass Milton doesn’t get head from his wife.”

“That poor fucker,” he chuckles breathlessly in reply, voice strained as you drag his briefs down, “Probably only for his birthday out of pity.”

“If ever,” you say smugly. You tug a little harder at the elastic until it nearly snaps, and he gets the hint, lifts his hips so you can undress him. He’s not just semi-hard anymore, his cock standing at full attention from the anticipation of what is about to happen as it bounces free.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him so needy for you, the thought of teasing him in the beginning disappearing quickly. Not because he wouldn’t be able to take it, but because you can’t wait to feel the weight of him in your mouth.

“Listen to me, baby,” you say with your eyes locked on his. You lick your fingers before you wrap your hand around his girth, stroking him a few times before squeezing gently. Javier moans, but he doesn’t look away; you have his attention, “You are worth ten Miltons, okay? And if they can’t see that, that’s not your fault.”

“O-okay,” he groans, mouth falling open in an o-shape when you nose along the length of him, “Jesus.”

“You’re smart, funny, sexy, a damn good dad, and you make me come so fucking hard,” you repeat the act of kissing him after each label but this time, it’s your warm lips that finds all the sensitive spots along the underside of his dick, “Who else can brag about that?”

It feels so good that he starts leaking at the tip, a bead of precome trailing down along one of the veins that you catch with your tongue on your way up again. When you’re at the head, you kiss it with love, but then take it into your mouth without hesitation.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” his head tips back at the feel, his hips twitching, his fingers curling into the sheets, “Didn’t think this was gonna be my end of the day. You are filthy.”

You release him with a pop, still working him with your hand to keep him right where he is. You smile up at him through your lashes, the way his neck muscles flex at the loss of warm, wet heat.

“You taste so good, baby,” you praise with a needy moan, brushing your lips along the skin not covered by your hand. You kiss his length open-mouthed and hot, “Wanna have you in my mouth all day. You always make me feel so good, wanna return the favor.”

“Yeah?” He pants softly, mouth dropped slightly open, and his eyes fluttering closed. He may not look at you, but his hand finds your hair, sliding through it until he can grip it without being harsh.

“Yeah,” you reply, swirling your tongue around the head afterwards, teasing the slit that’s still drooling with precome before you swallow him down again.

You go deeper this time, all the way down to where your fist sits until he reaches the far back of your throat, sliding into the tight space there. Expertly, you breathe deeply through your nose to keep going and block out the signs of your jaw starting to ache.

He dares look down at you again, but the sight makes him twitch in your mouth, making you gag slightly on his length. He huffs out an apologetic laugh, “Fuck, I’m sorry. You just look so sexy right now, I can’t even think.”

You hum as a thank you, letting him feel the vibrations through his cock. Tears cling to your eyelashes, spit shines along the rim of your mouth, and your lips are puffy from being stretched around him. You’re on a mission, sure that he can see it in your eyes, and you hollow your cheeks as you suck his aching cock a little harder. You don’t have to move with speed. Intensity will get him there, and sure enough, his breathing changes when you drag your lips up and down in this newfound rhythm.

Just a moment earlier, he was moaning and groaning, but the shift in your pressure and determination makes him whimper for the first time without realizing it, the noise high and airy as it barely fills the room. You moan softly as an encouragement for him to do it again, your cunt clenching in interest at his surrender.

Your saliva has dribbled down to slick your hand even more, still wrapped around the base of his cock, making it easier to work him as you concentrate on getting him to the point of no return.

“That’s it. S-shit, that’s it. I’m gonna come for you. It’s yours, baby. It’s fucking yours,” he barely talks anymore, voice breathy and cracking. His eyes burn with desire, his brows furrowed as he nears the edge. You place a hand on his trembling thighs, feeling him shudder as everything climbs.

It happens a moment after. You know it from the way his breath halts for less than a second and his hand tightens in your hair just to the point of it being painful, almost like he is bracing for impact. Then he whines, teeth gritted, and comes so hard that all tension in him must have evaporated into thin air.

“I’m coming, baby, oh— fuck, I’m coming,” he whimpers feebly, helplessly. You milk him dry with your hand and keep him in your mouth through it all, savoring each drop of salt like it is your favorite treat and feeling every twitch and tremble of his body beneath your fingertips, hips lifting, stomach jumping.

After a moment of heavy breathing, his hand falls from your hair. He collapses forward a little, slumps in marvel and exhaustion. You rest your cheek against his thigh and smile affectionately like you haven’t just committed something so sinful, feeling the coarse hairs there against your skin.

“That was a good one, huh?” You press a kiss against the top of his thigh and rub the other one soothingly while he breathes heavily, “I think you saw God for a sec there.”

“Quizá no fue Dios, pero sí una diosa (Maybe not God but a goddess),” he flirts with a smug look, but it is laced with genuine awe, like you must be a divine and celestial creature. You want to say that maybe you’re just a mother.

You hide your face, forehead pressed against his thigh, and giggle until your belly jumps. You press a hand against a foot kicking in protest, “Ow.”

“C’mere,” Javier holds his hand out in sympathy. You take it, but only after you receive The Look after a few failed attempts at getting up on your own.

With a tired groan, you let yourself be hauled off the floor and caught in Javier’s arms, who lets out an ‘oomph’ followed by a breathless chuckle. He is still naked, has used his discarded briefs to wipe himself down, and doesn’t seem bothered to dress himself again.

In a heartbeat, you would choose to sleep naked with him if everything about your body wasn’t so sensitive and sore. However, it is still nice to feel him like this as you both move towards the headboard and get under the covers together.

After getting comfortable, you face each other with your hands lying between your heads, close enough to count the other’s eyelashes. You can feel his breath on your cheek, your eyes moving around his face where the gentlest of smiles is displayed.

“I love you,” you whisper because of the burning intimacy of it all, the small giant truth that feels like it should only belong to you two right now.

“Te quiero tanto, mi amor (I love you so much, my love)” he whispers back, then after a beat, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you slide your hand into his hand, slip your fingers between his until he responds by squeezing your grip, “Still thinking about el pendejo (the loser)?”

Javier laughs softly, playfully, “Who?”

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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pascalssbabyy · 2 days ago

Text

i haven't stopped thinking about this drabble since i read it. obsessed isn't a strong enough word to express how this made me feel 🫠

‘gonna use you nice.’

YES PLEASE DO IT JOEL, I NEED IT!!!😩

absolute smutty perfection and oh-so-delicious! and i adore how joel shows such softness and care in the end— it’s my favourite thing. zoe, your writing is everything and more 💕

better than pregnant!

summary: you're about to get your period and hesitant to freak because of it. joel does not gaf and needs to get freaky with his beautiful girl.

tags: 18+, smut, p no plot, established relationship, post-outbreak, jackson!joel, kind of not really period sex, thigh fucking, misuse of baby oil, reader is afab, use of "good girl," joel is a freak and he likes to freak you, humping i guess, cuteness at the end somewhat, yay for no babies.

a/n: drabble i wrote in under an hour because i really wanted to write a fic today but it's so hot that i'm dying and someone should kill me.

my masterlist - askbox

wc: 1.4k unedited no beta

“Are you sure? It might mess up the bedsheets,” you ask softly. Joel sighs and you feel it against your back, the puff of his chest pressing into you. He’s holding you from behind with his pajama pants rucked halfway down his legs. You lost your pajama shorts somewhere along the way, as well as your undies.

You’re days, or maybe even a day, away from getting your period, and you’ve been super clingy. Sometimes your cycle comes and goes without issue, the only symptom being the fact you’re bleeding. But other times, like now, you’re achey, emotional, and frustratingly aroused. All night you’ve been laying in different positions in an attempt to soothe the pain that’s braided itself into your spine, only to find the warmth of Joel’s chest soothes it best. Joel could care less about your grouchiness though, he’s just happy to hold you. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s about to get his dick wet (kind of.)

“Baby you ain’t even on it yet,” he reminds you quietly. You watch his hands as they pop open the ancient bottle of baby oil, pouring it into his palm. Joel’s leg nudges yours and you shyly open your legs clamshell style. His hand cups you first, careful not to slide his fingers too deep into your slit. You’re sensitive in many ways right now, he doesn’t want to upset you or overstimulate you.

“There you go. Just some oil, right? You wanna make me feel good?”

His voice is quiet as he talks, pulling his hand away so he can pour more oil into his palm. Now he lathers your inner thighs with it, all while he presses kisses into the back of your neck. “So soft,” he says to himself, squeezing the plush inner of your left thigh. Joel truly adores you. He runs his hand up, cupping your core again, and you feel his erection throb against your lower back where it’s pressed.

Breathing is tough as your chest shakes with need and anxiety. You’ve never done anything like this, not on your cycle, and so it feels… scary. Part of you wants to go “but what if you get blood on you?” But that’s never really been a problem for Joel, not as long as you’ve known him. It’s also probably a dumb question to ask when he’s already throbbing and half naked. Duh, he wants this.

“You with me?” He asks as he shifts down the bed. Part of you feels a little distant right now, fascinated by the fact he’s so willing to do this with you. Staying grounded is difficult when the most attractive guy you know is about to stick his dick between your thighs and rut into the softness there, but you manage. You keep your eyes trained on the window, taking soft breaths, and Joel waits until you can confidently answer.

“Mhm,” is what you manage. Your hand comes up and reaches for the one near your head, attached to the arm that’s snaked beneath your neck. He squeezes it reassuringly, then readjusts.

“Gonna use you nice,” is all you get to hear before his dick is shoved between your thighs. Joel’s pushing into the oiled softness with vigor, like he’s the one who’s sexually frustrated and unable to get fucked. You can see the head of his cock barely peek out with each thrust, watching as a sticky pearl of precome suddenly disappears as he plunges in and out. Joel is groaning, the arm wrapped around your torso grasping at anywhere but your tits, since he knows how sensitive they are right now. He keeps trying to talk but he can’t quite catch his breath. His face drops into the crook of your neck and you feel him breathing heavily out of his nose and onto your skin.

“Good girl, fuck,” he curses softly. The arm tucked beneath your head suddenly is yanked away as Joel uses it to prop himself up. This changes his angle signficantly, and instead of fucking into your thighs and just grazing your cunt, he’s fucking the head of his cock up into your slit. The tip awkwardly bashes your swollen clit at first and you whine in annoyance. He’s quick to catch on and eases his movements.

“Like that, Joel, that’s– mmh!” You cover your face with your hands. It’s so difficult to try and be sexy or dirty when you fear that you’re bleeding all over him. You know he’s going to pick up on it if you keep talking, so you just shut up.

“Yeah babygirl? Like this?” He asks, grinding his hips up. His tip feels like it’s making out with your clit now. The sensitive nerves are slathered in a mixture of your wetness, his precome, and the babyoil, and it’s making for a deliciously slick mess. Joel pumps at a quick pace, remaining mindful of your sensitivity, but his energy and words are almost rabid.

“Makin’ me crazy earlier, kissin’ on me in the kitchen and then makin’ me sit through dinner.”

Oh, maybe that’s why he’s being so ravenous.

“Thinkin’ that being near your period is gonna make me keep my hands off you.”

Blood rushes to the tips of your ears at that. It’s so easy to forget that Joel finds you sexy, not just beautiful. Here in bed it’s easy to remember. The way he’s desperately fucking his dick into your legs is more than enough proof that he is desperately attracted to you. Joel’s teeth press into your neck in slight hesitation, knowing he shouldn’t be too rough, but he lets them drag across your skin.

“So fuckin’ wet, I can tell that isn’t just the oil.” Your cunt clenches on nothing as he talks more. Joel is such a fucking talker, you wish he spoke this much outside of the bedroom sometimes. Maybe he’s just a pervert though and that’s why he’s so quiet.

Your mouth opens slightly and drool starts to leak out as he becomes more intentful with his thrusts. He’s purposefully grinding the head of his dick into your clit at the end of each thrust. You can feel the thickness of his dick rubbing down your sensitive slit each time he’s done grinding and it only holds you in anticipation. Surprised noises keep leaving you, as if you’re not aware of the insatiable man behind you. It feels so much different than the usual sex that you have with him, it feels like he wants to ravage you, take you apart.

“This take your mind off your back pain, baby? Just needed my dick?”

Your head nods weakly and you start to whine “yes,” repeatedly. It isn’t wrong, you have no clue if your back is hurting anymore, not when you’re right on the cusp of an orgasm.

Joel’s nose is tucked behind your ear now, ensuring that you hear all the filth he’s spewing. Everything is so wet now, even your ass is somehow wet. His hips snap into you relentlessly as he starts to ask if you’re close and you have no words to answer. You’re beginning to get so wet you can’t feel anything at all, but finally he pushes at just the right angle and the ridge of his tip drags over your clit, sending you over. You gasp desperately, grabbing at the pillow beside your head as your body seizes up, shivering. Your thighs clamp down hard around Joel’s cock, sending him over too. The first spurts of come spill out from between your thighs, but then he pulls back and shoves himself back against your slit. His dick throbs as it coats your cunt in hot come, and your clit throbs right back against his tip.

“Good, good girl,” Joel grunts as his arm collapses back into the bed. He lays back down on his side, careful not to move too much. There’s a lot of mess on the bed already, he doesn’t want to clean anymore than he’ll already have to.

“Your back still hurt?” He asks after a moment. Back to sweet and caring, as if he wasn’t just a totally dirty mouthed perv.

“No. Might need a shower though,” you tease. Joel huffs slightly, amused.

“Uh-huh. Me too.”

Joel pulls away from you very carefully, hissing as he grows soft and sensitive. You look over your shoulder cautiously, praying you don’t see red.

One thin line of red is smeared on his shaft. You look up at him apologetically right away, but he’s smiling.

“What? Are you laughing at me?” You ask worriedly. Your lungs feel small as you try to breathe away embarrassment.

“No,” Joel grins, “S’just that this is better’n you being pregnant.”

--- <3 --- yayy thank u for reading. tagging some of my faves @evolnoomym @pascalssbabyy @mochamadeleines @joeloverture

#pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller drabble #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic

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andy-15-07 · 2 days ago

Note

hey i’d love a softdom!joel (no outbreak, joel is 30 something, reader is late 20s) fic where reader went to a party or something without telling him. he shows up really angry whilst reader is pretty drunk, he takes her home and is all stern but deep down it’s clear he’s just worried about her. he’s asking questions about who was there and whether it was safe, all while reader is fighting sleep in his truck. he takes her back to their home and is super strict, making her drink a full glass of water (like making her sit down and drink it while he watches) and then getting her to stay still while he takes off her makeup and puts on her pyjamas. he gets reader into bed while he goes downstairs to cool down and get water for her in the morning, meanwhile reader is worried that he’s super angry with her so she gets worked up and upset. when he gets back up to bed he comforts her and they cuddle because reader is clingyyyy while drunk. no worries if this isn’t your vibe, i love your writing!!!

Stay Where I Can See You

PAIRING: Joel Miller x reader

WORD COUNT: 1708| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist | Pedro Pascal Masterlist II

Joel Miller Masterlist

You don’t even notice the headlights sweeping across the front yard until it’s too late.

The music inside the house is so loud your ears are ringing, bass pulsing in your chest as you lean against the wall near the kitchen, cup in hand, vision fuzzy at the edges. It’s not your house , you barely know the host. Some coworker’s friend’s birthday, a warm night that turned into shots and shouting and bodies pressed too close. It’s been fun, until now.

Because now Joel’s here.

You hear the door slam before you see him. Voices hush near the front hallway , someone mutters something about your man’s here, half-laughing. You press your drink to your lips again, trying to look casual, but you flinch when you hear your name barked low and sharp.

“There you are.”

You turn, and there he is , big frame filling the doorway, boots heavy on the tile, jaw clenched so tight you can see the muscle ticking near his ear. He doesn’t even glance around, doesn’t care who’s watching. His eyes pin you right where you stand.

“Hi,” you manage, half a giggle bubbling up your throat because you’re tipsy enough that all of this feels a little silly. “You came.”

Joel stalks closer. The smell of whiskey and cheap beer and perfume clings to the room, but underneath it you catch the familiar clean scent of him , soap, aftershave, the soft leather of his jacket.

“Get your shit,” he says, voice low but not low enough. A couple people near the hallway pretend not to stare. “We’re leavin’. Now.”

You blink, push your hair out of your face. “Joel, I’m, It’s fine, I’m fine,”

“You didn’t answer your damn phone,” he cuts in, stepping closer until he’s blocking out the rest of the kitchen. His hand comes up, thumb brushing your jaw, tipping your chin up so he can see your eyes. “You drunk, baby?”

You roll your eyes, sway a little. “Just a bit. S’just a party. Don’t be so mad.”

He huffs, breath warm against your cheek. “Don’t test me right now. C’mon. Coat. Let’s go.”

You grumble all the way to the truck, though half your words slur together. Joel keeps a big hand firm at your lower back, guiding you down the walkway. When you trip on the last step he catches you, strong arms hauling you back against his chest. For half a second you think he might kiss you right there , but he just holds you steady, his mouth at your ear.

“You got no damn sense when you’re like this,” he mutters, and it should sting but it doesn’t , not when his touch is so careful, so steady.

He gets you settled into the passenger seat, buckles you in himself when you fumble the strap twice. You watch him with glassy eyes, the smell of his cologne curling around your brain, heavier than the cheap liquor that still coats your tongue.

Joel climbs into the driver’s seat, slams the door a little harder than he means to. The truck rumbles to life.

You watch his hands on the wheel , big, calloused, a little rough from work , and you giggle softly. He cuts his eyes at you, not amused.

“What’s funny?” he asks.

You shrug, snuggling down into the seat. “Your hands are pretty.”

Joel lets out a sharp breath through his nose, fighting a smile that doesn’t quite break through his scowl. “Don’t sweet-talk me right now. You got enough trouble as it is.”

The road hums under the tires, streetlights flickering by in a blur. You’re fighting sleep , eyelids heavy, head lolling toward the window.

Joel’s voice cuts through the haze, stern but soft around the edges. “Who all was there tonight?”

You blink blearily at him. “Dunno. People.”

“People like who?”

“Work people. Friends. Jen brought her boyfriend. Think his brother was there too.”

Joel’s jaw tightens again. “Any men you don’t know put their hands on you?”

You frown. “No. No, Joel.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm. Nobody touched me.” You grin lazily. “’Cept you.”

“That’s how it’s gonna stay,” he mutters.

You drift in and out on the ride home, half dreaming. Every time you slump too far to the side, Joel’s big hand comes off the wheel, palm bracing your thigh, thumb stroking circles through your dress. It keeps you tethered, anchored to him. Even when he’s mad, he never lets you drift too far.

When he pulls up to your house , his house, your house, the home you share but haven’t quite admitted is fully yours yet , he cuts the engine, lets the quiet fill the cab.

He doesn’t say anything for a second. Just watches you. You blink at him, throat tight.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, voice thick. “Didn’t mean to make you mad.”

Joel sighs, leans over to unbuckle you. His fingers brush your cheek again, softer this time. “Ain’t mad,” he says quietly. “Not really. Just hate not knowin’ you’re safe.”

You nod, trying not to cry. “I was safe.”

“You didn’t tell me where you were.” He says it gently, but it lands like a stone in your chest. “You go somewhere, you tell me next time. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Inside, he flicks on the warm hallway light. You blink against it, one hand braced on the wall. Joel toes off your shoes for you, muttering under his breath when you giggle at the way he tugs at your ankle.

“Sit,” he says, steering you toward the couch.

You flop down, giggling again when he puts his hands on your shoulders to keep you steady. He disappears into the kitchen, comes back with a tall glass of water.

“All of it,” he says firmly, pressing the glass into your hands. “Every drop.”

You pout. “M’not thirsty.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You wanna wake up feelin’ like death tomorrow? Drink it.”

You make a face, but you obey. He watches you like a hawk while you gulp it down, some of it dribbling down your chin. He tuts, swipes the back of his thumb across your lips when you’re done.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and the praise makes your cheeks burn warm.

“Stay still,” he says next. He crouches in front of you with a warm, damp washcloth, gently cupping your chin. “Look at me.”

You blink at him, dizzy with how close he is, how gentle his rough hands feel as he wipes away your smeared makeup , the mascara smudged under your eyes, the sticky gloss clinging to the corners of your mouth. He’s so careful it makes your chest ache.

“Didn’t need all this,” he mutters, voice low as he swipes under your eye again. “You’re pretty enough without it.”

“Joel,” you whisper, but he just hushes you.

When he’s done, he tosses the washcloth aside and pulls your arms up, peeling you out of your party dress, swapping it for one of his old soft T-shirts. He steadies you when you wobble, murmuring hold still, baby, like you might tip over any second.

By the time he guides you to bed, your head’s heavy again. He tucks you under the blanket, fusses with the pillow until it’s just right. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, but something inside you twists sharp.

“You’re mad at me,” you mumble.

Joel pauses, hand braced on the mattress. “I told you. I’m not.”

“You are. You’re so mad,” you sniff, voice catching. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to dance,”

“Hey.” Joel’s voice softens immediately, thumb brushing under your eye when tears start to slip down. “Baby. Hey. Look at me.”

You hiccup, grabbing his wrist with both hands. “Don’t be mad. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Joel huffs out a breath, leans down so his forehead rests against yours. “Ain’t mad at you, sugar. Just worried. That’s all.”

Your lip wobbles. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he murmurs. “Just wanna keep you safe. That’s my job.”

You nod against him, fists curled in the fabric of his T-shirt. “Stay? Please?”

He pulls back just enough to kiss your forehead. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. Need to get you some water for the mornin’. You gonna stay put for me?”

You sniff again, nodding.

He slips downstairs for a minute, the creak of the floorboards fading away. Alone under the blanket, your heart thumps too loud, your drunk brain turning his absence into something sharp and mean.

You hate when he’s disappointed. Hate the way his silence feels heavier than any shouted fight. You wipe at your damp cheeks, tug the blanket higher, try to swallow the lump that keeps growing bigger.

The bedroom door opens again, and you sit up so fast you nearly fall out of bed.

Joel’s there, glass of water in hand. He frowns when he sees your face, sets the glass down and climbs in next to you without a word.

“Hey,” he murmurs, arms pulling you in tight. “None of that. C’mere.”

You crawl right into his chest, pressing your wet face to his neck. “I thought you were mad,” you mumble, voice muffled.

“Not mad,” he says again, firm. One big hand rubs up and down your spine, slow and steady, grounding you. “Just worried. You’re mine to worry about, understand?”

You nod, pressing closer, so close you can feel his heartbeat under your palm.

Joel tucks your head under his chin, voice rumbling low as he kisses your hair. “You wanna go out dancin’, you tell me. I’ll take you. Somewhere safer. Somewhere I can keep my hands on you all night.”

You giggle wetly against his throat. “You’d dance?”

He huffs. “If it keeps you outta trouble, yeah. Might even let you drag me into that photobooth you like.”

You laugh, a sleepy sound, clinging tighter as his hands keep roaming , warm, big, protective.

“Love you, Joel,” you whisper, words slurred by exhaustion.

“Love you too, sweetheart.” He presses another kiss to your forehead, his voice softer than anything. “Now go to sleep. I got you.”

And you do , safe, warm, wrapped in his arms, no words left but the ones you both know by heart.

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lazysoulwriter · 23 hours ago

Text

softest sin ── .✦

requested! thank you. ♡content: established relationship, boyfriend!pedro, playful sex, giggling, teasing, some smutty fluff with kisses and laughter in between.

It starts with a kiss. A soft, sleepy, harmless kiss. Just one of those “I missed you” kisses after he got back from press. You're still in your sleep shirt, he's in boxers and a tee, and the morning light is painting everything gold.

His hand’s on your waist. Yours in his hair. Your noses bump, and you both giggle. That’s the first mistake.

Because then you kiss again. A little longer. Then again. A little sloppier. And Pedro — sweet, warm, touch-starved Pedro — is already sighing into your mouth like he’s been waiting days just to be this close.

“God, I love your lips,” he mumbles, pressing tiny kisses to your jaw, cheek, eyelid. “So soft. So pretty. So—wait, what’s this?” He squints at a tiny spot on your chin. “Is that toothpaste?”

You gasp. “Is it?! Oh my god, don’t look at me!”

You cover your face, laughing so hard your shoulders shake. Pedro just grins and leans in, kisses the exact spot dramatically.

“Mmm,” he teases. “Minty. Love it.”

“Ew,” you giggle, pushing at his chest. “You’re disgusting.”

“You’re disgusting,” he echoes, flopping fully on top of you now, all weight and warmth and scruff and Pedro. You squeal underneath him and he starts kissing down your neck like a menace.

“Pedro—stop, you’re heavy,” you wheeze.

“I’m not heavy, I’m emotionally supportive,” he mutters into your skin.

You’re screaming laughing now, trying to push him off while he’s kissing you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to. You get the giggles so bad your stomach hurts, and every time you try to be serious, he makes some dumb comment like—

“Babe, your laugh just made my dick twitch. Is that normal?”

You go limp with laughter. “SHUT UP.”

“No, like, I’m hard, but I’m smiling. What do I do with that?”

“Therapy?”

He gasps. “You little shit.”

You’re both cracking up, but then his eyes meet yours — all soft and lovesick, and suddenly the energy shifts just enough to make your heart do that annoying flip thing.

He leans in and kisses you again, slower this time. Deep and sweet. His fingers graze your thigh.

“Still laughing?” he murmurs against your lips.

“A little,” you breathe. “But mostly just smiling.”

He rests his forehead against yours. “You’re my favorite person.”

Then — with all the sincerity in the world — he adds, “…also, your boobs are really cute.”

You snort. “You are the dumbest man I’ve ever loved.”

“And yet,” he whispers, kissing down your chest, “you’re letting me hit.”

You giggle the entire time he slides into you. He’s slow, lazy, perfect. You keep teasing him mid-thrust like, “Your hair’s tickling me,” or “You’re breathing so loud,” and he starts doing it on purpose just to make you laugh again.

At one point he moans dramatically like “OHHHHH YEAHHHH” and you literally lose it.

“Pedro, SHUT UPPP,” you gasp, crying from laughter.

“You said you liked it when I was vocal!!”

“Yeah, but not like a WWE wrestler—”

“I’m performing for my girl! Let me be sexy!”

You kiss him through your laughter. And that’s how you know this is it — this is love. Naked, laughing, kissing, safe.

Eventually, you both calm down enough to move together in sync again, soft and slow. The laughter doesn’t stop completely — but now it’s woven into the moans, the sighs, the little whispered “I love yous” between kisses.

And after?

You’re tangled up in each other. Sweaty. Breathless. Still grinning.

Pedro hums sleepily into your neck. “Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna marry you.”

You pause. “Right now?”

“Nah. Later. I’m too cozy.”

You kiss his forehead. “You’re so annoying.”

He grins.

“But like… I’d say yes.”

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

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holbrk · 19 hours ago

Text

Chapter 1: Small Town Lovin’

Pairing: Ted Garcia x f!Reader Warnings: (MDNI) explicit sexual content, including graphic descriptions of consensual (protected) sex (p in v), a power dynamic between a public figure and a younger professional (slight age gap [mid 40s, early 30s]), alcohol consumption, emotional isolation stemming from the pandemic and includes a light parental reference during a sex scene, dirty talk, fluff and angst!!, mild dubcon, HE'S THE MAYOR, and some sweet talk. Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: After a long week and one too many drinks, an unexpected encounter with Eddington’s enigmatic mayor, Ted Garcia, turns into something far more intimate than small talk. What begins as innocent flirting at a quiet bar unravels into a night of raw honesty, physical hunger, and surprising emotional connection. Behind his polished charm and political title lies a man longing for something real and just a little more. Notes: This is chapter one of this series! You can find the master list here to read the rest of the series as its posted. There are NO SPOILERS for the movie Eddington in this fic.

♡ MASTERLIST ♡

“Excuse me?”

His voice was low and smooth, almost velvety. The kind of voice that didn’t need to rise to command attention. It slipped beneath your skin, raising the hairs at the back of your neck. Your hand paused mid-air, fingers slowly lowering your glass to the bar top with a faint clink.

Ted Garcia.

The Mayor.

His face was impossible to miss — plastered on billboards, news articles, and the side of city buses ever since the pandemic. He was the man who’d saved Eddington, the golden boy who revived its dwindling population and breathed clean, green life back into its weary bones.

You cleared your throat, swiping your thumb across your lips to catch the last bit of gloss from your third drink. The stress of the week still sat heavy behind your eyes. New boss, more responsibilities, endless paperwork — and now a conversation with him.

“Yes?” you managed, batting your lashes with an effort that felt part instinct, part performance.

His smile came easily, comfortably, as if the bar were his living room. He took the barstool beside you without hesitation, like he’d already decided he belonged there.

“Sorry, couldn’t help but notice the pin on your bag — Clean Source Energy, right? You work for them?”

Your eyes dropped to the small enamel pin, fingertips brushing over it without thinking. It was rare you carried your work bag around after hours, but tonight you’d come straight from the office. Your hair was still pulled into a high ponytail, flyaways curling around your temples and ears, the remnants of a long shift clinging to you like static.

“Yes,” you said with a small nod. “I’m a data analyst there.”

He nodded at your words and then extended his hand. “Ted, Ted Garcia.”

You took it and shook slowly, introducing yourself.

A beat of quiet passed — just long enough to be comfortable, not long enough to escape the feeling that he was assessing you.

Then Ted lifted a hand, gave a casual wave, and as if summoned by magic, two more drinks appeared in front of you. Another for you and beer for him.

“Y’know,” he began, picking up his glass, “I was the major voice that pushed to get that center built here. Along with a few others, of course.”

He took a sip, his eyes never quite leaving yours — though they dipped, briefly, to the neckline of your blouse. The white fabric hugged your figure in a way that suddenly felt more noticeable under his gaze.

“I see a lot of promise in Eddington,” he added, his smile shifting just slightly, as the foam from the beer clung to his mustache. Something more personal began to curl at the edges. “I’d even say I’m pretty good at judging things in a general setting. Especially character.”

Was he flirting?

Surely…

You took a slow sip of your drink, the glass cool against your lips as you leaned into your elbow on the bar top. Maybe you’d entertain this just for the hell of it, or maybe out of curiosity. Ted Garcia wasn’t known for being social. He kept mostly to himself, especially after what happened with his wife. He was always juggling the impossible: running the town, raising a teenage son, keeping Eddington afloat. But still… he was the mayor. Influential. Wealthy. And, undeniably, stupidly handsome.

You let your voice dip, your tone playful. “And what does my character say, hm?”

As you spoke, your fingertip traced the rim of your glass slowly, deliberately. You saw his eyes catch the motion and then came that smile. The smile. The one splashed across campaign posters, on town hall murals, on local news segments. His signature. Practiced. Perfect.

Then his hand drifted, soft and slow, until just his fingertips brushed your thigh. Barely there. Almost polite. But you knew better. He wanted more.

“I see a woman with ambition,” he said, voice warm, confident. “A woman who keeps her cards close. Strong. Self-contained. And quite frankly…” He let out a breathless chuckle, leaning in, “…the type who wouldn’t care if I walked out of here right now.”

He paused, smirking as if reading the thoughts flickering behind your eyes.

“Hell, something tells me you kind of wish I would. Just… kind of.”

You wet your bottom lip, smoothing away the dryness as your gaze held his. You were reading him now. Every word. Every flick of tone. Every subtle challenge.

“Seems a bit unprofessional,” you mused, lifting your glass again, “to hit on a local woman in a very local bar… where anyone could see. Could be scandalous, no?”

The edge of your voice curled around the fire you were stoking, just to see how hot it could burn.

Ted finished the rest of his beer in a long, slow swallow and set the empty glass down with finality. His eyes never left yours.

“I’m a very transparent man,” he said, voice lower now, closer. “I’m a go-getter. I see something I want — and I don’t hesitate.”

He leaned in, slow and deliberate, until his face was only inches from yours. His eyes, a deep, soft brown, and entirely focused — locked with yours like he was trying to memorize every detail.

“And I don’t give a damn who spins what story,” he continued. “Right now, I’m having a conversation with a beautiful woman.”

A pause.

“That’s all they need to know.”

The jukebox hummed softly in the background, Katy Perry’s voice spilling into the corners of the dim bar like a memory half-remembered. You swirled your tongue behind your teeth, tasting the last of your drink as the tension between you and Ted thickened — taut, unspoken, electric.

Your glass hit the bar with a soft clink and your hand reached for your bag, fingers curling around the strap with casual intention.

“So… what is this, exactly?” you asked, eyes flicking to his. “You’re not really planning to take a stranger to your home, are you?”

Ted watched your every movement and just as you began to rise, his hand reached for your wrist — not forcefully, but gently, like he didn’t want to stop you so much as slow you down.

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

The question hit harder than it should have.

Your eyes widened, blinking. Was this not just a one-night thing? His intentions had seemed obvious or maybe… maybe you’d misread him completely.

“I don’t think I’m a three-star motel girl, if that’s what you’re implying,” you said, half-defensive, half-teasing. You couldn’t help but notice how warm his fingers felt against your skin, how careful he was with his touch.

Ted chuckled — a real laugh, low and warm and stood alongside you.

“Then I’ll get us a cab,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “And you can see where the Mayor lives.”

He took charge with ease, but never with arrogance. You watched the way he dialed, the way he guided you out of the bar with a hand at your back, the way he opened the cab door for you like it was second nature. Every gesture was controlled, deliberate. Gentleman-like.

The ride was quiet, but not awkward. Intimate in its restraint. He didn’t boast. Didn’t fill the silence with tales of his accolades or power. Instead, he asked about you; your job, your life, your dreams. The small things that too often got overlooked.

You could tell he wasn’t just chasing pleasure, he was chasing connection and that realization tugged at something deep in you. Something soft.

The pandemic had broken people in ways no one liked to admit. All that isolation. The loss. The quiet grief of being alone. Why deny him, deny yourself something that had been taken from so many? Something human.

The cab turned up a long dirt road, tires crunching over gravel as the landscape opened around you. Rolling desert fields stretched out beneath a lavender sky, cacti scattered like sentries across the land, and distant ridges of mountains catching the last gold of dusk. You’d forgotten how beautiful New Mexico could be when the world slowed down.

Ted stepped out first, then offered you his hand as he waved the cab off into the dark.

His home was modern, with rustic bones. Steel lines softened by weathered wood, leather furniture worn in all the right places. Campaign signs and papers were scattered across surfaces like leaves in the wind, but the mess was lived-in, purposeful. Not careless.

It felt like someone’s real home. Not a staged house for a man in power.

Not just the Mayor’s house. His.

You noticed the photos first. Frames perched along the mantle, scattered across bookshelves and side tables. Ted and his son, Eric. Smiling at baseball games, standing in front of a freshly cut Christmas tree, riding bikes on some dusty trail. It made you smile, involuntarily. There was a warmth to them. A tenderness you hadn’t expected. Even if some of them were staged.

Eric wasn’t home. Off with friends, apparently, visiting colleges out west. Ted had his own quiet reservations about it — he’d chosen a school for himself, carefully, lovingly, for his only son. But still, he let Eric go. Let him be. Maybe that was love, in its hardest form: loosening your grip even when it hurts.

He offered you a drink. You accepted.

The two of you made your way to the couch, and he settled in beside you, one arm draped easily over the back, his body turned slightly toward you. You felt his gaze, felt him taking you in.

The lighting was softer here — golden, steady so unlike the pulsing bar lights you'd just left behind. The contrast made everything feel slower, more intimate.

Ted parted his lips like he was about to speak but you beat him to it. You leaned forward, setting your beer carefully on a coaster on the coffee table, then turned to face him fully. Shoulders squared. Hands on your knees, firm.

“Okay,” you said bluntly, eyes locking with his. “So what exactly is happening here?”

Your voice was steady. Clear. This was Ted fucking Garcia — the mayor of Eddington. You were in his house. Drinking his beer. Letting him charm you like you were just another evening distraction. Surely, he wanted something. Anything.

Ted let out a soft chuckle, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. He placed his beer beside yours, the bottles clinking gently as they touched and leaned back into the couch with a casual shrug.

“Is just having a conversation really so bad?”

Your eyes trailed over his outfit — the brown blazer, the bolo tie, the shirt patterned with tiny horses, tucked neatly into a pair of faded white-washed jeans. Scuffed Nikes on his feet. He looked like someone’s dad trying to dress up, but refusing to let go of comfort.

Fuck, you thought, biting back a smirk. He radiates Dad energy.

And somehow… that made him more dangerous. More… enticing.

You pressed your lips to the side, curious. His words echoed in your head, turning over like slow wheels on wet pavement. Maybe this was all he wanted — an empty house, a quiet evening, a little warmth to chase away the stillness. Maybe.

“Fine,” you said at last, the word slipping out with a quiet sigh as you sank deeper into the couch.

Ted nodded, mirroring your movement, his posture easing as he leaned back beside you but his gaze never strayed. He kept his eyes on you, studying you in the soft hush between sentences.

His fingers moved idly along the back cushion, slow and searching, until they found a lock of your hair spread out against the fabric. He touched it gently, his thumb brushing the strands with just enough pressure to be noticed, but not enough to cross a line. A deliberate restraint.

You crossed your arms over your chest, the motion subtle, but purposeful. The swell of your bust lifted beneath the curve of your arms, and his eyes — God, his eyes, they noticed.

Of course he did.

“It’s been a while,” Ted said finally, his voice lower now, more intimate. “Since another woman’s been here. Since I let myself…” His gaze dropped to the lock of hair he was still toying with, wrapping it slowly around his thumb, his fingers brushing it like it was something fragile.

“I’ve been so focused… on the job, on Eric. On keeping everything moving.” He paused, thumb dragging gently over the strand before letting it fall. “I think somewhere along the way… I forgot about my own happiness.”

You furrowed your brows and turned your shoulder into the cushion of the back of the couch, as if trying to hide from the truth of his words. You related a bit too much. Work had consumed you completely. These days, your life was a pattern of coming home, trading your work clothes for something soft, curling up with your cat, and binging crime shows until sleep overtook you. Love was a language you'd long forgotten how to speak. Too easily abandoned.

“Sounds like me,” you murmured, your voice low, almost ashamed of the admission.

Ted noticed the shift immediately. His hand moved from the back of the couch to your shoulder, his thumb pressing into it with quiet pressure — firm, grounding. You felt the heat of it bloom through the thin fabric of your blouse, your breath hitching ever so slightly.

“I don’t want to be that guy,” he said, voice softened, “but I think that’s why I noticed you… back at the bar. Why I couldn’t look away.”

Your pulse picked up beneath his touch and your eyes dropped to your hands folded neatly on your knees. Without thinking, you moved one to his — fingers brushing over his jean clad knee like a quiet invitation.

Ted's brows lifted, caught off guard. This was the first time you’d touched him all night, and for once, the calculated mayor — the man who always had a plan seemed to forget what came next.

You could tell.

So you took control.

You shifted, slipping off your flats beneath the coffee table. Tucking your legs beneath you, you turned toward him, elbow resting on the back of the couch as you leaned in closer — close enough to feel the warmth of his breath.

“So… just conversation, huh?” you whispered, your voice velvet-smooth. Your lashes dipped low, fluttering like a spell meant to unravel him.

Ted’s hand slid from your shoulder to the curve of your jaw, thumb grazing your skin with a kind of reverence.

“I’m letting you lead this,” he said, his voice quiet, with a breath of something like need in it.

And just like that, you climbed into his lap — slow, deliberate. Straddling him, your knees sank into the couch on either side of his thighs. Ted kept his hands hovering at first, hesitant, waiting for your permission. So you guided them to your hips, settling them there, grounding him in this moment.

Neither of you broke eye contact.

“You’re even prettier up close,” he breathed, eyes fixed on yours like he was looking at something he hadn’t let himself want in a long time.

Then your lips found his.

The kiss was urgent. Starved. Like two people chasing salvation in each other’s mouths. A collision of loneliness and heat.

His hands slid beneath your blouse, fingers trembling slightly as his thumbs grazed the bare skin of your waist. The touch was tender, but desperate like he was afraid you'd vanish if he didn’t feel you properly, if he didn’t hold on.

Soon, he lifted you into his arms, the couch forgotten entirely as he held you tightly against him, lips still locked with yours — hungry, insistent, guiding you both through the quiet corridors of his home like he was following instinct alone.

In the soft hush of his bedroom, he kicked the door just barely ajar and laid you down on his perfectly made bed. For a fleeting second, you took in your surroundings — simple decor, western accents, and subtle touches of warmth that revealed more than he ever could in words.

He hovered over you, his breath warm against your neck as he found the fevered beat of your pulse and pressed his lips there, tender.

“Tell me,” he murmured, a request.

“Keep going,” you breathed, giving him permission with just those two words.

And he did.

There was no hesitation. His body molded to yours like it had been waiting — aching, for this moment. His thoughts tangled between disbelief and desire. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let himself be soft with someone. Or the last time someone as striking as you had found their way into his bed.

He pulled back just enough to shrug off his blazer, tossing it carelessly aside. Then came the bolo tie, slipped loose from the collar of his shirt with practiced ease. He returned to you almost instantly, his hands greedy now as they pushed your blouse up, fumbling slightly at the buttons until the lace of your bra came into view — white and delicate, the faint contrast of your areolas just barely visible at the edges.

A low, guttural sound left him — raw, unfiltered. It wasn't lust. It was awe.

His thumb traced along your exposed skin, pushing the padding of your bra aside to fully uncover your breast. But instead of diving in, he paused.

You watched him, the moment suspended between you both. His eyes lingered on you like he was seeing something sacred. Something he'd convinced himself he'd never deserve again.

His lips parted, trembling slightly like he was whispering something just for himself.

“Ted?” you said softly, trying to pull him back from whatever thought had taken him so far away.

His gaze snapped up, locking with yours. A slow smile spread across his face, and then he lowered his forehead to yours, breathing you in.

“I want to do…” he paused, a shiver in his tone, “...completely and utterly obscene things to you.”

His confession cut through the air like heat lightning. It was dirty, yes — but not careless. It was filled with longing, with desperation, with an ache.

Your breath caught.

Goosebumps chased across your skin like a ripple of electricity, and suddenly you were trembling not from fear, but from the magnitude of being wanted that deeply.

“Please.”

The word fell from your lips like a whispered prayer and it was all he needed.

Your clothes were gone in moments, stripped with aching urgency, leaving your bare body exposed to the heat of his rough, capable hands. He touched you everywhere he could — grazing, gripping, palming every inch of you, his touch alternating between reverence and hunger. His fingers mapped the curve of your hips, the softness of your thighs, the dip of your waist as if trying to make up for some kind of lost time.

Soft, breathy sounds escaped you, tiny cries that built in intensity as he revealed more of himself. His body wasn’t sculpted — he was average, but grounding. A comforting fullness to his stomach, real and warm, with a dark patch of hair just above his hardened cock. A trail of it meandered up toward his navel like a quiet invitation.

Ted paused, his chest rising and falling with restraint, his eyes clouded with lust as he looked down at you.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he murmured, almost bashful, “but I think I need to get a condom… from my son’s room.”

You blinked, then burst out laughing — genuine, unexpected. It made him snort, and with a chuckle, he buried his face between your breasts, letting the sound of your joy vibrate against your skin. “This is either going to be the most humiliating thing or the most materializing thing from tonight, because if I go in there and he has none, that means my son is having unprotected sex and I need to have a serious talk with him… thus leading to the conversation of how his Dad needed to borrow one.” He mumbled into your sweet skin. The tension between you broke, replaced by something looser, more intimate. The heat lingered, but now it was threaded with laughter.

You watched him pull back, his expression sheepish, as pressed his palms together in a mock-apology before slipping out of the room.

Propped up on your elbows, you took in the space around you — his bedroom, warm and masculine. Earthy tones, aged furniture, and just enough detail to say this is who I am. Simple. Quiet. Lived-in.

He didn’t keep you waiting long.

When he returned, the condom wrapper was already torn, dangling between his lips as he moved quickly toward you with a familiar spark in his eyes.

“Thank God I raised him right,” he mumbled through the foil, grinning as you laughed again.

He hovered over you, the tension mounting once more. With practiced ease, he stroked himself a few times, and your gaze followed the movement — mesmerized by the sight of his flushed, uncut cock, a bead of precum glistening at the tip like a drop of anticipation.

Ted let out a low moan as he rolled the condom down over his length, careful and slow. Once it was snug, he looked down at you, drinking in every detail — your tousled hair, parted lips, the look of need in your eyes.

“Can I try something?” he asked, voice barely a whisper, tremulous with need and hopefulness.

You bit your bottom lip and nodded, breath shaky. "Yes."

That single word — soft but certain — was all the permission he needed.

With a quiet groan, he shifted onto the bed and reached for you, his large hands wrapping around your arms. Gently, he tugged you down with him until he was lying flat on his back, guiding you to straddle him — not facing him, but in reverse.

“Get on top of me… backwards, baby. Backwards.”

Your brows moved in confusion, but you obeyed, shimmying your hips as you turned around. His hands were already on you, guiding you down until your back rested against his chest. You stared up at the ceiling, heart pounding, unsure of what he had in mind — until his arms slid beneath your knees.

With a sudden, skilled motion, he curled you backward, pulling your legs up and over, folding you into a full nelson.

“Ted!” you gasped, your voice part shock, part thrill. Your body arched unnaturally, your thighs parted and lifted high, your feet pointed up.

“Shh… trust me,” he whispered beside your ear, his breath warm as he blew a few strands of your hair out of his face.

He held you there, perfectly positioned — your head cradled in the flat of his palms, your legs stretched wide and drawn back. You felt the strength in his hold, the intensity in his breath, the sheer intimacy of being so utterly exposed and claimed.

All you could do was breathe and watch — while his thick cock aligned with your aching, wet pussy.

“It’s gonna feel… f-fuck, it’s gonna feel so good,” he murmured against your skin, voice trembling with anticipation. “Just trust me.”

Then, with one slow, deliberate thrust, he angled his hips upward — his tip parting you, gliding in with a precision that made your body jolt.

You jolted as he entered you fully, but Ted didn’t let you go. He kept you bent, folded tight in his hold, completely at his mercy.

A deep groan spilled from his lips as his head pressed back into the pillow. He angled his hips again, digging his heels into the mattress, and drove himself to the hilt.

“God… tight — shit, you’re so tight,” he whimpered, his voice low and ragged with awe.

The praise burned through you like wildfire. You flushed, warmth rising to your cheeks, and moaned long and deep — your voice trembling with the sudden, overwhelming fullness. It had been so long since someone had filled you like this.

The bed started to creak beneath you both, the headboard tapping rhythmically against the wall. Ted held your body locked in place, his arms strong around your bent frame, while his hips moved with force and purpose, thrusting up into you again and again.

You sobbed out soft cries, your voice catching as pleasure built and your limbs trembled. Every thrust made your body jolt, and in this position, you couldn’t look away — you were forced to watch as his thick cock disappeared inside you over and over again, stretching you, owning you.

He groaned louder now, the sound guttural, primal. The veins in his neck pulsed as sweat gathered along his temple. His hips slammed upward with growing urgency, the force of each thrust making your ass ripple against him.

You gasped, struggling to speak, your voice trembling with pleasure. “W-What is this… this position — I’ve never…”

Your eyes threatened to roll back as he drove deeper still, his cock reaching spots that made your toes curl. Each push felt impossibly deeper than the last, your back beginning to ache from the tension but your body helplessly clinging to the pleasure.

Ted didn’t stop. He fucked you with reverence and ruin in equal measure, like he was trying to imprint himself into your memory forever.

One of his arms slid out from beneath your knee, letting your leg fall open at an angle. He snaked the same hand down your stomach, pressing it flat against your belly before it dipped lower, finding your clit with practiced precision.

You cried out, “Ted!” — your voice strained, overwhelmed. Every nerve in your body sparked alive, already overstimulated, but that was exactly what he wanted.

His hips kept a brutal, unwavering rhythm as his fingers began to work tight circles over your sensitive nub. The contrast between his thick thrusts and the focused, maddening pressure on your clit made you shake.

“C’mon,” he groaned, his voice cracking with need. “Need to feel you squeeze around me… please, baby.”

The plea in his tone bordered on desperation, but it still carried a raw authority. “Come for me,” he begged, breathless. “Please. Right now.”

You whimpered, trying not to throw your head back for fear of colliding with his — but it was impossible to stay still. The sensations clawed at your insides, made you writhe and squirm against him. Your toes curled so tight they cramped, and your hips bucked against the hold of his arm.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna —” you stammered, the words tumbling out between hitched gasps, each syllable broken by his thrusts and the relentless roll of his fingers against you.

And then it hit. Your orgasm crashed into you like a tidal wave, blinding and hot and earth-shaking. Your body locked tight, your breath caught in your throat, and your walls clenched down hard around him.

But Ted didn’t stop.

Even as you cried out and trembled through it, he kept moving — kept fucking you through your release like he wanted to feel every ripple of it echo inside you. His pace unrelenting, your pleasure stretched until it bordered on unbearable, and still he held you in place, moaning into your skin like he never wanted the moment to end.

With a swift, fluid motion, he rolled you onto your stomach, easing you down into the mattress. Your cheek pressed into the sheets, warm and damp from your breath, as his rhythm never faltered. Now behind you, he hovered — his body blanketing yours with heat. His thrusts came fast, rough, the slap of skin echoing off the walls like a steady drumbeat.

His hands gripped your ass, fingers sinking into the flesh as if trying to anchor himself to the moment. “F-fuck... I — oh god, I’m gonna…” he choked out, his voice a tangled mess of restraint and the raw need of release.

Sweat dripped from the ends of his curls, falling onto your spine in slow, burning trails, each drop branding you with the intensity of his need.

You gasped, eyes fluttering shut as you felt him drive deeper. So deep it felt like he was reaching places untouched, the pressure blooming in your belly. Your body, pinned beneath his, could do nothing but take it — accept every desperate, final thrust as he chased his release.

And then, with one hard thrust — then another, shorter, tighter… he let go. His body shuddered violently as he emptied into the condom, filling it to the brim. His moan was guttural, trembling with the weight of everything he’d held back until now.

A shared cry tore from your lips, the air between you charged with heat and breath and something near feral. He slumped forward, collapsing against your back with a soft, breathless grunt, his heart hammering into your ribs like a second heartbeat.

For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the soft rhythm of quickened breaths, the occasional awkward giggle, and gentle kisses pressed to your back. The atmosphere pulsed with something tender, almost shy, as Ted finally pulled away.

He stood, his movements a little unsteady, knees trembling slightly from exertion. Carefully, he removed the condom, holding it gingerly as he shuffled toward the bathroom. You heard the quiet sound of the trash can lid, the flush of water running. When he returned, he carried a warm, damp cloth and wore a boyish smile — loose curls clinging to his flushed forehead, eyes soft with something close to adoration.

“You okay?” he asked gently, his voice a low murmur as he began to clean you. The cloth was warm and soothing as he ran it along your back, across your ass, and between your legs with slow, deliberate care.

You turned your head slightly, cheek still pressed to the sheets, and gave him a small nod. Your expression was hazy with equal parts exhaustion and a deep, humming satisfaction. “More than okay,” you whispered, a soft hum escaping as he wiped away every trace of discomfort, his touch lingering in places that made you shiver.

That made him beam. Not just smile — beam. He looked at you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever had the pleasure of tending to.

“Will you stay the night?” he asked, gently setting the cloth aside. “Or should I call you a cab?”

You glanced toward the digital clock on the nightstand. It read nearly midnight. Technically, you had work in the morning, but the idea of leaving — stepping out of this moment, hadn’t even crossed your mind until now.

“And if I stay?” you asked, eyes flicking back to meet his.

That same warm smile stretched across his face, unshaken.

“Then if you do stay… we can shower. I can make you the best damn late-night bologna sandwich you’ve ever had. And…” he turned toward his dresser, pulling out a large t-shirt, holding it up with a flourish, “...you can tell me if you’re a New Mexico United fan.”

He waggled the oversized t-shirt in your direction, and you couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled from your throat. A grin tugged at your lips as you nodded, heart fluttering. There was something disarmingly tender about the idea of wearing his shirt to bed — like being claimed not by possession, but by comfort. By trust. By something unspoken but deeply felt.

“Then I’ll stay,” you said, voice quiet but sure.

His features softened instantly, the playful grin melting into something gentler — slight relief. He clutched the shirt loosely in his hands as he returned to the bed, sitting beside you with a slight sigh, as if the weight between you was finally settling into place. Something had shifted. Something real. Maybe this was what you both had unknowingly been reaching for all along.

“We could also start with just… conversation,” he murmured, voice low, a touch of vulnerability threading through it.

You swallowed, the moment delicate and full.

“Yeah,” you whispered, nodding slowly. “Let’s start there.”

------ Ugh thank you so much for reading! I can't wait to start on the other chapter already. This idea came to me randomly and I am so excited to share it with you all. Tagging requested: @iamasaddie @pokayyto @perotovar @cassiuspascal @berryispunk @chasingthepoguelife @madpanda75 @lady-artemis27 @elvenhymntoelbereth @shivispunk @cosmickid-inmotion @beezusvreeland @eviispunk @glitterspark

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whimsicalwritersstuff · 3 days ago

Note

Pls pls pls I’m begging you to write what i have in mind, where Joel is old, he is not shy but he is very quiet and serious and insecure, because of his age, his body, he doesn’t feel attractive anymore. he works on Jackson's farm, always alone and without living with anyone, until a veterinarian arrives in Jackson and they send her to work with him, she is very flirtatious, but without being very daring, she gives him many compliments and come on, Joel has not received that kind of attention since the all this shit of the virus began, much less has he had sex, so he is always blushing, stuttering, he does not know how to react to your sudden interest in him, you have to take the initiative and make the first step with that insecure old Joel.

Then smut, but some soft smut and so much body appreciation to Joel, like make him feel attractive and secure about his age and body again. A lot of age gap, a lot of sweet kisses, soft Joel who’s insecure about having sex because it’s been years since the last time, he doesn’t know where to touch you or if it’s correct, so you help him figure it out.

I hope you understand this hahaha sorry if it’s confusing, but I would love if you do it

Dust and Horses

Parings: oldman!joel miller x fem!reader

Content warnings: explicit content 18+, age gap (60s/20s), body insecurity & body worship, emotional vulnerability, soft dom, gentle Dom, , praise kink, oral sex (f receiving), insecurity about aging, mentions of scarred/ weathered body, soft tummy worship 💛

Word count: 3000

Jackson was quiet that morning, the way it always was just before the sun got too high and the heat too thick. Joel liked it that way, quiet. Predictable. Just him, the animals and the work.

He didn't need conversation. Didn't want it.

He didn't miss people. Not really.

At least, that's what he told himself.

He pushed open the stable gate with a quiet grunt, the rusted hinges creaking like old bones. The morning was cool, but not for long. Summer was coming in fast and mean this year. Dust locked up beneath his boots Ashe made his way towards the horses, feeding buckets swinging in each hand, shoulders aching from years of hard living.

His body wasn't what it used to be.

Nothing was.

He still woke up some mornings expecting to see black hair in the mirror. Fewer lines sorind his eyes. A back that didn't protest every time he bent to fix a latch or load hay.

But all that was long gone, faded into the same place all good things seemed to go after the world fell apart. Joel had grown used to being invisible. It was safer that way. No one looking at him meant no one seeing what he'd become.

Until you showed up.

~~~

You were new in town. A vet, they said. Formerly based in Denver, or maybe it was Missoula. Joel hadn't listened that closely. He'd just caught the part where Maria said you'd be helping out on the farm rotations for awhile. "You'll work with Joel," She'd told you, and Joel grunted his agreement, barely looking up.

He'd figured you'd stay distant. People always did.

But that morning, your boots clicked against the dirt path like you were walking into a photoshoot, not a stable..you smelled like lavender and sunscreen. Clean. Fresh. Too clean for Jackson. Joel tried his to stare, but god, he did. You were younger, not too young but younger than him by enough to matter. You had that kind of presence that unsettled him. Soft around the edges, all smiles and confident guess, but not loud. Just... Sure of yourself.

You looked around, then spotted him near the stalls.

"Mr. Miller?" You called, walking over, clipboard in hand and the sun catching on the shine of your hair.

"Yeah," he muttered, barely meeting your eyes.

You gave him a once-over, then smiled. Wide. Playful. Like you already knew the effect it would have on him. "Well, I expected a grumpy old man," you said. "Not a tall, broody cowboy. Lucky me."

Joel blinked.

Was that... Flirting?

"Nothin' lucky about horse shit," He grunted, tugging his gloves tighter. You leaned against the wooden post beside him, arms crossed casually. "I don't know. Sometbing about a man with a voice like yours and those forearms... It works."

Joel looked at you like you'd slapped him.

"You- you say stuff like that to everyone?" He asked, voice lower now, guarded. "Nope." You titled your head. "Just the ones who look like they haven't been flirted with in a decade."

He flushed. Hard. Looked away fast.

Jesus Christ.

"I'm just here to work," He said, but it came out shaky.

You didn't press. Just smiled and looked around, eyes scanning the animals. "Well, lucky for you, I love working. Especially with someone who blushes that easy." Joel stood there in stunned silence as you walked past him, the smell of your perfume lingering in your wake. The world titled a little under his boots.

~~~

The first few days were pure hell.

You never stopped being sweet. Funny. Sharp

You complimented his work, teased him about how neat his stalls were kept, how gentle he was with the animals. And Joel didn't know what to do with any of it.

He stuttered more than he had in decades.

You brought him coffee one morning, black, like you'd somehow guessed how he took it. He just stared at the cup like it might explode in his hands. "What's wrong?" You asked, genuinely concerned. "Just... Ain't used to this," He muttered.

"To coffee?"

"To bein' treated like I'm... Worth treatin'."

You frowned. Just for a moment. Then smiled, softer this time.

"Well get used to it, cowboy."

~~~

By the end of the week, Joel was losing sleep.

He found himself thinking about you.. constantly. The way you laughed. The way you always stood just a little too close. The way your hand brushed his when you passed him a tool.

You were warm. And kind. And a little dangerous, because you made him want things he'd long since buried.

Desire. Intimacy. Hope.

He'd go home after long days in the sun, his hands still aching, and stare at the empty walls of his home with a beer in hand, wondering what the hell you saw in him.

~~~

One afternoon, it all came to a head.

You were brushing one of the mares, sleeves rolled up, dirt on your cheek. Joel came up behind you with a bucket and stood mid-step.

You looked... Beautiful.

Too beautiful for this world.

"You're staring," You said without turning.

"I ain't," He muttered.

"Liar." You glanced over your shoulder "you always do that. Look at me like I'm about to disappear."

He swallowed. Hard.

"Maybe I am"

You set the brush down and turned to face him fully.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doin' what?"

"Pushing me away before I've even gotten close. "

He didn't answer. Couldn't.

You stepped forward. Slowly. Gently.

"I'm not teasing you, joel. I'm not playing. I like you" he let out a slow breath, full of rust and regret. "I ain't young. I ain't pretty. And I sure as hell ain't been with anyone since before all this shit started. I don't got anything left to give you"

You reached up, bold but tender and cupped his cheek. His beard was rough against your palm, his skin warm. He didn't flinch. Just stood there, like he might fall apart if you moved too fast. "You have more to give than you know," You whispered. His breath hitched. Your lips were so close. So soft.

"You don't want someone like me," He rasped.

"I want you, Joel"

And when you leaned in, finally, finally he didn't pull away.

Your lips brushed his like a secret, something fragile and reverent. Joel made a quiet sound in the back of his throat, something almost broken and then he kissed you back. Slow. Hesitant. But real. When he pulled back, he kept his eyes closed like he was afraid to wake up.

"You okay?" You asked, breathless.

He nodded, voice thick with emotion.

"Yeah. Just....didn't think anyone'd ever want me again."

You smiled, soft and warm and safe.

"Well," You said, taking his hand in yours.."get used to that, too."

You giggled, soft and breath before rising onto your toes, cupping his face again and kissing him a second time. Longer this time. Slower. Joel didn't pull away.

He leaned into it.

Your lips moved with his, gentle but sure, coaxing him open. And when you flet his hands tentatively settle on your wasit, you smiled into the kiss, your fingers sliding up into silver at his temples, threading through the thick salt and pepper strands like you'd been aching to touch him for days.

Because you had been.

"You kiss like you're afraid I'll break," You whispered when you pulled back for air, resting your forehead against his.

He swallowed hard. "Don't wanna mess this up."

"You couldn't, " You said, brushing your thumb over the soft skin beneath his eyes. "Not with me" Joel didn't say anything for a beat. His hands trembled slightly where they ressted on your hips, like he didn't quite believe he had the right to touch you. "I-" he hesitated. "It's been a long time. I don't know what the hell I'm doing anymore."

You softened instantly.

"Then let me show you," You murmured.

And this time, you took his hand in yours and guided him back towards the small farmhouse at the edge of the field, the one noel never let anyone into. The porch creaked under your weight as he unlocked the door and stepped aside for you to enter. It was quiet inside. Dim. The kind of space that spoke of solitude and habit. A single coat on the joom. A pair of worm boots by the door.

You took int the simple furniture, the folded flannel blankets on the couch, the old record player in the room.

He shut the door behind you and stood there, still as stone.

You walked up to him slowly, pressing your hand to his chest, feeling the steady thump beneath your palm.

"This okay?" You asked.

He nodded, barely.

You helped him out of his flannel shirt first, revealing a plain white tee beneath. Your fingers slid under the hem, and when tlhe hands brusjed warm skin, Joel shuddered. His arms rose hesitantly as you pulled the fabric up and over his head.

And then... You looked at him.

All of him.

He was broad and solid, softened with age and honest labor. Strong shoulders, thick arms, and that soft tummy he always tried to hide under lawyers of fabric. Scars scattered over his torso like constellations. His chest was covered in dark hair, trailing down to the soft curve of his stomach.

Joel shifted on his feet, eyes averted.

"I know I ain't what you're used to," He muttered, his voice low with shame. "Ain't got that... Young body no more. Got this gut and all these damn years on me. You don't gotta pretend-"

You silenced him with your lips pressing slow, worshipful kisses to the curve of his jaw, then down to the strong column of his throat. "I'm not pretending," You whispered, lips brhsing against his neck. "I think you're beautiful."

Joel made a strangled sound in his throat, half disbelief, half want. You kissed down the center of his chest, reverent and unhurried. Your fingers slid over his stomach, and when he tensed, you kissed the soft round of it, it was warm and tender.

"Love this too," You murmured. "All of it. All of you."

His breath hitched. "No one's ever said that before."

You looked up at him, eyes glowing.

"Then they didn't deserve to touch you."

Joel's jaw clenched. He looked like he might cry. But he didn't stop you. You kept kissing down, slow and sure, until he was trembling beneath your touch. You helped him out of his jeans, tracing the lines of his hips with open admiration. Joel's hands stayed at his sides, unsure of where to touch.

"Anywhere," You said gently. Reading his hesitation. "Touch me anywhere, Joel. Whatever feels right." He finally reached for one, one big, callouses hand sliding behind your neck as he leaned in, kissing you like he finally believed he could. Like he needed it. Like the world might stop turning if he didn't. You undressed slowly under his gaze, guiding his hands when he faltered, smiling whenever he looked away like he didn't deserve to watch you. You made him look. Made him see.

"You can't mess this up," You said again, as he lay back against the couch cushions, the sun slanting through the window and lightning the silver in his hair. And then you climbed into his lap, straddling him gently, your body warm against his. His hands came toy thighs reverent. Shaky.

"This okay?" He rasped.

You nodded. "More than okay."

You kissed him again, long and deep and rocked your hips just enough to feel him through the thin layer of fabric between you. Joel groaned softly, his eyes fluttering shut. " I ain't sure I can last long," He admitted, brow furrowed. "Ain't done this in.... Years. My body don't work like it used to." You smiled against his jaw. "Dosent need to. I want you just like this. We go slow. We take our time. You just feel."

Joel's breath come hot and shaky as you guided him inside you..inch by inch. His hands gripped your hips like he might break apart from the feeling. "Jesus..." He whispered, head falling back against the couch. "You feel so- fuck, darlin'..."

You held his face as you moved, slowly, gently. His hands never left yours. His hands wandered cautiously, your hips, your back, your breasts like he was learning you by touch alone.

You praised him the whole time.

Told him how good he felt. How warm he was. How you loved his arms, his belly, his voice, his age, his years.

You made love to him like he precious.

Because he was.

And when he came, it was with your name on his lips, whispered like a prayer.

Oty stayed curled up against his afterward, your fingers tracing the faded lines on his chest as his breathing slowed.

Joel didn't speak for awhile.

Then he said, voice rough and quiet, "didn't know I could still feel like this." You smiled and pressed a kiss over his chest. "You were never done, Joel. Just waiting for the right person." He pulled you closer, wrapping both arms sorind you like he was afraid to let go.

"I think I found her."

~~~

The next morning,

The first thing you became aware of was the weight of Joel's arm slung heavy across your waist. The second was the warmth of his breath against your shoulder. You blinked slowly, sunlight sneaking in through the sheer curtain of Joel's small bedroom. His sheets smelled like cedar and soap. One of your legs was tangled between his, and the softness of his chest pressed against your bare back with each inhale.

He looked peaceful now, lines on his face softened. Brows relaxed. His grip on you was secure, protective, but not too tight. You smiled into the pillow, feeling his fingers twitch as he slowly stirred behind you. A low, gravelly hum rumbled in his chest as he woke. You turned just enough to glance over your shoulder.

Joel blinked open his eyes, those dark, soft brown ones and gave you the smallest, sleep-heavy smile.

"Morning," You whispered.

He didn't answer right away, just leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. Then another, lower this time. His lips moved slow, lingering against your skin.

Your breath caught.

He pulled back slightly and spoke, voice still rough from sleep. "Been thinkin' about last night."

"Yeah?" You asked, turning to face him fully. His hair was a mess. His beard scratchy against your chin when he leaned in for a kiss. "Yeah," He . murmured between kisses, hands sliding to your waist, pulling you closer until your bare bodies pressed together beneath the sheets. "Think I'm still dreamin', if I'm bein' honest."

You smiekrand cupped his cheek. "You're not."

Joel swallowed hard and pressed his forehead to yours. "I didn't... I didn't get to return the favor." You titled your head slightly. "Favor?" His ears flushed pink. "You took such good care of me," He said softly. "Want to do the same for you." Your breath hitched, eyes searching his. His hands slid down to your thigh, and he gently coaxed it over his hip so you were open to him, warm and ready. The shift in his demeanor was sutble, still gentle, still uncertain but laced with something new.

Desire.

Confidence.

His mouth trailed down to the slope of your neck, leaving kisses behind like breadcrumbs. Then over the curve of your chest, pausing to worship your breasts, cupping them in his large, calloused hands like he was trying to memorize their weight. He pressed open mouthed kisses to each nipple, sucking gently, watching the way you arched into him.

"God darlin'," He breathed, voice reverent. "You're so soft..." You reached for him, fingers buried in his hair as he kissed down your ribs, then lower. "You don't have to-"

"I want to," He said firmly, and the way he looked up at you made your breath stop. "Just.... Tell me what you like, yeah? I wanna learn."

Your heart cracked open at that. St the pure devotion in his voice. You nodded, propping yourself back against the pillows as Joel settled between your thighs. Bjs hands were steady now as he pushed your legs open wider, his fingers stroking up and down the insides of your thighs, warm and slow. Then he leaned in and kissed you there, right over your folds, like he meant it.

You gasped.

Joel didn't rush. He took his time, tasting you with slow, wide licks, groaning low in his throat at your flavor. His beard scratched your skin, but you loved it, loved the way it made everything feel real. Like Joel fucking miller was really between your legs, licking you like a starving man. "Goddamn," He muttered, voice muffled against you. "You taste so fuckin' good." You whimpered and tangled your fingers in his hair, guiding him gently, but he was already learning you, learning what made you squirm, what made you sigh, what made your thighs shake around his ears.

He groaned while your hips rolled towards his mouth. "That's it, baby... Just like that." You had never felt so wanted. So cared for. Joel held you like you were sometbing breakable but precious, his hands stroking your hips as his tongue circled your slit slow and steady, until your legs were trembling. "I- I'm close-" You whispered, your voice breaking.

Joel didn't stop.

He moand against you, the sound sending vibrations though your core. His hands pinned you gently, and his mouth kept working you until you were gasping, arching, crying out his name as you came, shuddering under his mouth, his touch, his voice. Only when your body began to twitch with overstimulation did he finally slow down, kissing you softly through the aftershocks. When he crawled back up the bed, your eyes were glassy, your limbs still loose and shaking. He kissed you gently, your mouth, your jaw, your forehead.

You cupped his face again, eyes wide. "Where the hell did that come from?"

He gave a sheepish smile. "Guess I remembered a thing or two." You pulled hik down and kissed him deeply, your body curled into his, warm and sated.

Joel miller wasn't a quiet man anymore.

Not with you.

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joelmillerswife9 · 2 days ago

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Lips Like An Angel 🫦💋

Being the wife of Marcus Acacius, you wake up your husband the best way you know how.

*I literally had a dream similar to this last night and had to write a story

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! Oral (m receiving), kissing, language, finger, age gap (Marcus is in his 50’s, female reader is 30)

A soft moan rumbles from your lips when you're awoken by the sunlight, beaming through the window. Vision hazy at first from hours of deep sleep, your eyelashes start to clear your sight with each little flutter. You stretch the circulation back into your limp arms and that’s when you feel him; his strong grip hugging your naked body. A mischievous smile curves along your mouth when you turn to find your husband sprawled against the crumpled silk sheets. Marcus Acacius, the most noble general to march the cobblestone streets of Rome sleeps peacefully beside his gorgeous wife. His face that’s usually furrowed with sternness is now gentle from slumber. His muscles that ache with tension from long grueling years of war are now engulfed in relaxation. To everyone, he’s a general but to you he is only Marcus; the love of your life. The key to your heart. Take him away and you might as well be dead.

Gazing at your husband, your digits reach for his smooth salt and pepper curls. Massaging the tousled locks, you plant a delicate kiss on his temple. Marcus doesn’t move a muscle being long gone in a sea of dreams. Your touchy adventure continues down the strong line of his jaw to his bare chest. His rumbling breaths send vibrations along your palms as your digits trickle down the patch of hair on his soft tummy. Traveling lower and lower down Marcus’ body, your breath hitches at the feeling of his stiff cock. The same cock you were riding the night before, that had your back arching and cunny dripping from every thrust and grind.

Gently tightening your grip around his thick shaft, you start stroking his meaty cock. A moan snickers from Marcus’ direction. His eyes blink and his eyebrow raises at the silhouette of what’s going on under the sheets.

“My lady, what are—“

You interrupt the question with your lips crashing onto his. He doesn’t pull away, his head levitates off the pillow chasing your taste. “Mmm.. Marcus” you gasp. Your mouth travels from his lips to the nape of his neck. His cock grows another size in your hand as he watches your torso slither down his waist. Propping your knees on the mattress, Marcus has a full view of your voluptuous curves. Kissing every scar along his tummy, you pull the sheets over so Marcus can see the show.

“Didn’t you get enough pleasure from my cock last night, Angel” A cocky smirk paints on his face as he looks down at you.

Driving your nails along his thighs, you kiss the tip of his cock making his hips jolt, “I could come 100 times and it would still never be enough, my love”

Your tongue licks a long stroke up his shaft making Marcus throw his head back on the pillow. You love torturing him; a twisted satisfaction for you. Licking your lips, your mouth wraps around the head of his aching cock. He growls your name as his flesh disappears into your mouth. Still stroking with your hand, your mouth and tongue torture Marcus with slow enticing suckles. Creating a smooth rhythm, your curls bob up and down on his shaft creating a loud “pop” to echo along the walls.

His chest heaves from the intense ecstasy building between his legs. He looks down and grips a fistful of your hair, he’s mesmerized at how beautiful you look with a mouthful of his cock. He has to tame his climax from spilling over when you bat your eyelashes at him.

“Gods… how can a beautiful woman have such a sinful mouth?”

“Mmmmm” your mouth vibrates. Your lips leave his cock and kiss at his thigh, “I think I need to be taught a lesson”

You spit on his head and go back to sucking. With one hand tangled in your hair, his other hand grips the cheek of your ass. Rubbing the smooth skin nicely, you yelp at the sudden burn that stings from Marcus’ slap.

“Don’t you dare stop” he growls. Sucking on his middle and ring ringer, his digits disappear in your wet cunny. You moan into his cock as his fingers play with your cunny in a “come here” motion. The harder he thrusts, the faster you suck. He whispers for you to continue the way you do, and you don’t dare halt for a second. A tickle forms in your torso and travels down to your hips. Marcus feels you clench around his fingers and fucks you harder. Sucking and stroking, Marcus lets out a howl, “Angel, I’m gonna come… don’t stop, please”

Obeying your husband, your swollen lips wrap deeper around his cock making you gag on the shaft. Your climax drips down Marcus’ fingers leaving your legs shaking like a leaf.

“I— I’m gonna…ahhhhhh!!!”

You indulge in the ropes of Marcus’ warm climax coating your tongue, sucking every last drop out of him. Swallowing his seed, you give one last kiss on his blushed head. You wipe your swollen lips on his thigh and kiss up his tummy. Eager, Marcus pulls you up and kisses your mouth. Tasting himself on your tongue, he pants “I’m not done yet, my queen”

He pushes your body up so you're facing bed frame, “Be my good girl and sit on my face”

Tagging: @jazzy11scorpio @baronessvonglitter @katssecretdiary @xbeababyx @pascalispunkczechia @fairylights-throughthemist @mystickittytaco @littledes1re @deaneatspie @chasingthepoguelife

#pedro pascal smut #marcus acacias x reader #delulu #marcus acacius smut #gladiator 2 #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #gladiator 2 fanfiction

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mysterious-musings-writes · 3 days ago

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With Love, Comes Chaos

Dieter Bravo x OFC Oneshot

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo is chaos on two legs, always causing mischief and bringing surprises home to his wife. Their adopted son, Luca, may or may not be an accomplice to his antics.

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: There is smut (oral, p in v, etc) and tooth rotting fluff. Daddy Dieter comes with his own warnings. There are very mild references to things that come along with animal rescue that some may find unpleasant.

✨Note: This can be read as a standalone fic. However, it is an extra for Destiny & Deliverance. It takes place right before the events mentioned in the Epilogue. ✨Background that you need to know: Dieter and Talia are married and have an adopted son, named Luca. Dieter is sober. They are staying at Dieter's childhood family home (a vineyard). Mateo and Lucia are the overseers of the vineyard's daily operations and live nearby on the grounds.

EXTRAS ||| TEASERS ||| VIBES ||| MAIN MASTERLIST

Chapter Quote: “Dieter, what the hell was that?”

Dieter’s POV

I wandered out onto the terrace, finding Talia in my favorite pair of paint-stained overalls and a tank top as she slid a brush across her canvas, recreating the sprawling verdant landscape covered in lush and thriving grapevines that surrounded our home. She turned to look over her shoulder, giving me a small smile before returning to her task.

“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Bravo?” she asked as she perfected the finer details of a cluster of flowers in her picture.

I gripped the back of her overalls where the straps met, and pulled her against my chest, nuzzling my face into the wild curls that she attempted to tame into a messy bun. My lips found the curve of her neck, placing a gentle kiss before smiling against her skin.

“Oh, mi estrella (my star), you know there’s always something you can help me with, but that’s not the reason for the interruption…this time.”

Her head tipped backward, leaning against my shoulder as she peered up at me through her lashes, “Oh? What is it then?”

My hands ran up and down her bare arms, “I just wanted to let you know that Luca and I are gonna go for a walk around the grounds. We’ll be back shortly.”

Her eyes narrowed, “You better not come home with any more wild animals.”

I scoffed, turning her to fully face me. “First of all, that family of raccoons had experienced a very unfortunate road crossing incident. They were orphaned. You can’t expect me to leave those cute little fuckers to fend for themselves?”

She bit back a smile, “No, I can’t…and you didn’t. You brought all three of them home.”

I chuckled, “And to my credit, I did turn them over to the wildlife rehab center.”

She snorted, “Yeah, because I made you. You wanted to keep them.”

I shrugged, “I mean, did you see how they loved me? The little runt wouldn’t let go of my thumb. He imprinted. I was his new mom.”

She scrunched up her nose, “You’re so fucking ridiculous.”

My hands snaked around her hips, pulling her in for a quick kiss. “I know. But this is why you love me.”

She gave me a soft smile, “You’re not wrong. You two stay outta trouble, please.”

Luca appeared in the yard, looking every bit a miniature version of myself in his gym shorts, t-shirt, and black crocs. His shaggy hair was a fluffy mess, hanging over his eyes as he stood with his hands on his hips and an impatient look on his face.

Talia turned to him with a smirk, “Please keep your papá away from the wild animals.”

Luca snorted out a laugh, “Él está loco (He's crazy). He won’t listen to me.”

She sighed, “We’ll at least he’s smart enough to recognize not to follow in your footsteps.”

I furrowed my brows in mock protest before shrugging it off. “You’re probably right. You couldn't handle two of me.”

She rolled her eyes as I gave her another quick kiss, “OK. We’ll be back shortly.”

I hopped the railing, stumbling and almost tripping as my own croc came off when I landed. Luca broke into a fit of giggles as Talia jokingly mumbled something about a “manchild” under her breath.

I poked Luca in the side, “You hush. Let’s go, hombrecito (little man).”

Luca and I spent the next hour or so wandering around the vineyard as we often did, checking in with the little families of wildlife that had made this place their home, too. Luca enjoyed watching and learning about them and I loved watching his eyes light up with excitement. Seeing him happy made my heart swell and it was something I could never get enough of.

After checking in with the family of ducks in the pond as our last stop, we set off down the winding driveway, eventually coming to the property line of our neighbors where we found John driving through their field in a UTV. He waved, changing his heading to come say hello. As he pulled up to the edge of the fence, two little figures adorned in bright pink and bright yellow onesies came into view. They were snuggled into his side, bouncing along with the ride. When he came to a stop next to us, they both screamed in our direction.

Luca and I glanced at each other, wide-eyed before looking back to the cute little baby goats sitting in the seat next to John.

“Is that baby goats…in pajamas?” Luca asked.

John laughed, “It is. This is Molly and Sally. They’re from a set of triplets. Unfortunately, the mama only wants to take care of one of them, so I’m on baby goat duty until we can get them weaned.”

Luca glanced up at me then back to John, “Can we pet them?”

John gave him a knowing smile, “If you two aren’t busy, come on up to the house and you can visit with all the babies. We have a bunch this year.”

Luca’s head snapped toward me, “Can we papá? Pleeeease?”

He put on his best pouty face, working those puppy dog eyes better than I ever could. How could I refuse him? I sighed, “Fine. Fine. We’re gonna go grab a golf cart first though. That’s too far to walk. We’ll be up in a few, John.”

He nodded, waving us off as he started his UTV and made his way home. Luca looked at me with a big smile, “I bet I can make it to the golf cart before you.”

I chuckled, “I bet you can, too. I can’t run full speed in these shoes.”

He rolled his eyes, “I have the same shoes on. It’s fair.”

I pursed my lips, “I suppose you’re right, but I’m gonna play my senior citizen card and steal a head start.”

Before he had time to process what I said, I took off in my best attempt at a sprint toward our golf carts. Not that it mattered, the kid still smoked me. I found him sitting in the passenger seat waiting on me and dissolving into giggles when I finally reached our destination gasping for air and groaning like I was about to die after running up the steady incline of the driveway. I made a mental note to rethink my cardio routine as I plopped down in the driver’s seat.

Minutes later, we found ourselves parking in front of John’s house where he was outside waiting on us with Molly and Sally at his feet. He led us over to a smaller pen where there were at least twenty or more baby goats running around. Luca and I both froze in our tracks, staring at the chaotic sight before us. It looked like barnyard heaven.

These goats looked to be a couple of weeks older. They were slightly bigger and rambunctious as fuck - headbutting each other and climbing on top of tires and logs. It was one of the cutest things I had ever seen. Once we stepped inside the gate, the whole herd began yelling and ran toward us. They wasted no time climbing on top of us as we squatted down to their level, nibbling on our clothes and fingers. Luca and I were both laughing at their antics.

One little trouble maker decided to headbutt my hip, causing me to lose balance and fall on my ass. I snorted out a laugh, “We’ve gotta get us one of these.”

“Ya know,” John said, “We do have several bottle babies right now. We could use some more fosters until they are big enough to join the herd…” He paused, giving me a mischievous smile, “You all foster animals, don’t ya?”

Luca glared at me, shaking his head. He already knew.

I gave John a toothy smile, “Why yes, we do. It’s usually dogs though. We’ve never fostered a goat.”

“Well, they aren’t much different than a dog. I can give ya all the supplies ya need if you’d be interested.”

My eye’s met Luca’s, “Mujer mandona (bossy lady) is gonna make you sleep with the dogs this time.”

I waved him off, “No she won’t. She’s all talk. Besides, we’ve been talking about a baby goat for months.”

Luca was still shaking his head, now smirking.

“Imma tell her this was your idea. She can’t get mad at you,” I added.

He gasped, “You’re the adult. You can’t blame me.”

I snickered, turning back to John. “We’re in. How long is the foster?”

John was giving me a toothy smile now, glancing down at Molly and Sally at his feet on the other side of the fence. “If you wanna take one of these two, it will be about ten weeks before they’re fully weaned.”

I shrugged, “That’s not bad. We can do that. It’ll be fun.”

Luca didn’t look convinced, grimacing as I smiled at him. “You’re gonna be in so much trouble.”

“Hey, there are worse things I could bring home. At least it’s not a skunk or something…”

I paused, holding up a finger to further my point. “And besides, she said don’t bring any wild animals home. This isn’t a wild animal. This is a domesticated animal. It doesn’t count.”

Luca huffed out a laugh, “That’s not gonna work.”

John was chuckling beside us, “If the wife won’t let you keep it, you can bring it on back. I won’t be offended.”

I grinned, “Oh, don’t worry. The wife can’t turn down the ole Bravo charm. Consider the deal done.”

An hour later, I was finishing up getting Molly settled in her new little corner in the dog’s room. Luca left with Mateo to go to the farm supply store because he wanted to see the baby chicks, which worked out perfectly because it gave me time to work my magic on Talia before telling her about the baby goat.

I washed up the best I could and found a change of clothes in the laundry room since I smelled like a pig pen. Then I made my way upstairs. Talia had just stepped out of the shower when I found her in the en suite bathroom in nothing but her robe. I leaned against the doorframe, giving her a suggestive smile as she towel-dried her hair.

She arched her brow, “What are you up to?”

I shrugged, closing the distance between us to pull her against my chest. “Nothing. I just couldn’t wait to see you. I’ve missed you.”

Her brows furrowed, “You’ve only been gone a few hours. What did you do?”

I laughed it off, “I just wanted to take advantage of our alone time. Luca went to the farm supply store with Mateo. So…that means we don’t have to rush for once.”

I leaned down pulling the fabric of her robe aside to kiss along her bare shoulder between words. “I can take my time with you…make you come more than once.”

She shivered as her fingers threaded through my hair, “Mmm, I guess I can’t argue with that since it’s to my benefit.”

Her face nuzzled against the top of my head, “Ugh, you smell like a barnyard. I’m gonna have to take another shower after this, aren’t I?”

I chuckled, wrapping my arms around her middle to lift her and move toward the bed. “Probably, but it won’t be because I smell like a barnyard.”

She squealed through giggles as I tossed her onto the bed, “Promises. Promises.”

Her brows arched in my direction as she propped herself up on her elbows, eyes sweeping up and down my body. I gave her a mischievous smile before pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it off in the distance. My shorts followed, leaving me in my underwear as I moved to grab her hips and pull her to the edge of the bed with another squeal.

She stared up at me with a playful smile, loosening her robe far enough to give me a peek of skin all the way down to her navel. I leaned over her, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip before allowing my fingertips to trail downward. Our eyes stayed focused on each other as my fingers lightly slid down the exposed skin between her breast, then further across her stomach. When I reached the closed fabric at her waist, my finger hooked under the tie, undoing it the rest of the way to have her on full display for me.

I smiled as I took her in, “So fucking perfect.”

She squirmed under my gaze, thighs pressing together in anticipation as I closed the distance between us. My mouth followed the same path my fingers had taken, pausing to suck all the sensitive areas along the way. Only I didn’t stop at her waist this time, I continued lower, devouring her heat as she writhed under me and made the most delicious sounds. Her fingers twisted in my hair as her thighs trembled against my shoulders. I had her falling apart in no time, hooking my fingers inside of her against that spongy spot that always made her moan my name. As promised, I took my time, not stopping until she was three orgasms in and begging me for something more.

She lay there, panting as I removed my boxer briefs and crawled onto the bed beside her, sprawling out on my back. My fingers brushed through her hair as she took a moment to get herself together. She turned, peering up at me with a sly smile as she shifted to climb up my body and straddle my hips. She shrugged off her robe and tossed it away before leaning forward, capturing my lips in a heated kiss that never failed to take my breath away. She ground her wet center against my hardness, causing me to groan into her mouth as I fought the urge to cum from the contact. Her commanding confidence always made me feel like a teenager who couldn’t control himself, and I fucking loved it.

She went on like that for a time, teasing me as her hands and mouth explored my body - until I couldn’t take it any longer.

I was a panting mess under her, “Love, I’m gonna lose it before I’ve had you. Please, let me have you now.”

She smiled, “Since you’re asking so politely…”

And with that, she lined my length up at her entrance and sank down to the hilt, eliciting a gasp from me and causing my mouth to fall open from pleasure. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she began to move on top of me in the way that hit just the right spot for her. I watched the flush of her skin spread from her chest up into her cheeks as it glistened with sweat from her exertion. She moaned loudly, not even trying to hold it in. She was a sight to behold, taking what she wanted from me. I could never get enough of it.

I felt her tense on top of me, my fingertips digging into her hips to keep her moving through her high. When she began to relax, I shifted us to lay her on her back so I could take over. Kissing her deeply as my hips snapped against hers. Her thighs squeezed my waist as she dug the heels of her feet into my ass, urging me on. I came with a very loud strangled groan against her neck. It had been too long since we had been able to let go like this and not worry about getting caught in the act. It was the one drawback to having a kid in the house.

With a grunt, I pulled out and collapsed next to her on the bed. She sighed, smiling in contentment before rolling over to prop herself on my chest. “You’re right. I’m a sweaty mess now. The fact that you stink had no bearing on my need for a shower.”

I snorted out a laugh, “Think we have time to take one together? I bet I could get another quickie in…”

I wagged my eyebrows and gave her a cheesy smile.

She laughed loudly, “Yeah, that part is debatable, but I think we could at least get a quick shower in.”

The shower was short, but we still took the time to take care of each other in between brief kisses. It was a moment we were overdue for, regardless of the reason I was trying to butter her up.

I was debating how to breach the baby goat topic as we stood in the bedroom, getting dressed in a fresh set of clothes when the topic decided to make itself known with a loud bleating cry downstairs. My eyes rounded as Talia froze mid shirt button, lifting her chin to meet my gaze with the look. The one that said I was in trouble.

“Dieter, what the hell was that?”

I laughed nervously, “So, you know earlier when you asked me what I did? I think now would be a good time to talk about that…”

And to drive the point home, another loud bleat sounded from downstairs followed by a loud crashing noise. Talia’s eyes narrowed. Fuck.

I pointed toward the door, “I’m just gonna go…check on that.”

She nodded, “Yeah, you better do that. We’ll talk about this when your accomplice gets home. I wanna make sure I get the full story from the both of you.”

I huffed as I moved toward the door, “Fine. Fine.”

When I got downstairs, Molly was nowhere in sight and the foster dogs were running amok through the house. This wasn’t exactly the best first impression. After gathering the dogs back in their room and reinstalling the tension gate, I went on the hunt for Molly. Ten minutes later, I found her in the kitchen pantry. It looked like a bomb of flour and oatmeal had gone off in the small space. Molly was standing in the middle of the floor, covered in white powder and knocking a potato around as she tried to bite it.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Girl. This is not how you make a good impression.”

She looked up at me with a blank stare, then screamed at me. I rubbed at my temple and sighed, “This may be starting off worse than when I brought that opossum home.”

Talia appeared in the doorway behind me, immediately bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Is that fucking pajamas?” she asked, now wheezing.

I nodded, “Yes. They serve a purpose. They help keep the diaper on.”

She laughed harder and began coughing, no doubt from the flour in the air.

“I can’t wait to hear this story.”

I rolled my eyes, picking Molly up to take her outside so I could clean her up. “There’s a diaper bag on the counter, can you bring it out to me please?” I asked over my shoulder.

It only set Talia off into more laughter as I stepped out onto the back porch. She appeared next to me minutes later with the diaper bag and towels and set them beside me as I tried to clean Molly the best I could. Talia stood nearby with her arms crossed over her chest and a smirk on her lips as she watched me change the goats onesie.

The door opened and Luca stepped out. He paused, eyes wide as he looked between the two of us. Then he began to back into the house, very much reminding me of that Homer Simpson gif where he disappears into the hedges.

Talia laughed, “Hold it, mister. You two have got some explaining to do.”

His shoulders slumped, “I told him this was a bad idea. He didn’t listen.”

I scoffed, “Geez. Crumbling like a cookie already. See if I sneak you anymore ice cream before dinner. Traitor.”

Luca scoffed, “Excuse me? That was your idea, too!”

I sighed, shaking my head. “No loyalty. I see how it is.”

I crossed my arms and pouted like a petulant child just to be funny, causing both of them to burst into laughter. Humor was the only way to get out of this situation unscathed.

Talia sobered, “Can someone please explain to me why there is a baby goat, wearing pajamas? I told you not to bring any animals home.”

I held up a finger, “Uhh, correction. You told me not to bring any wild animals home. This animal is not wild. It is very domesticated, hence the clothing.”

I could tell she was biting back a laugh as she eyed me.

Luca snickered, “I told you that wouldn’t work.”

I shushed him.

“Dieter, what the hell are we gonna do with a goat? We can’t take it back to LA with us.”

I held up my finger again, “Excellent point! Which is why we won’t be. It’s only a temporary foster situation…just for a few weeks until she’s weaned.”

Luca fake coughed out, "Ten weeks.”

Talia rolled her eyes, “I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were the same damn age. Where did you even get the goat? You said you were walking around the vineyard.”

I grimaced, “Well, we were down at the end of the property and ran into our neighbor, John Boy…”

Talia snorted, “Please tell me you didn’t call him that to his face?”

I shook my head, “Of course not. That would be rude.” I waved that comment off, “Anyway, he had Molly and another baby with him and invited us up to see the rest. He mentioned needing fosters because they have so many bottle babies this year and…well, here we are.”

She sighed, still smiling. “I should make you sleep with the dogs for this.”

My brows furrowed, “Why does everyone keep saying that like it’s a bad thing? Have you seen the dog’s room? I’ll happily snuggle up in a puppy pile on that oversized dog bed and spend the night watching Dog TV with them.”

She did not look impressed with that response. Time to pull out the big guns. Once I got Molly’s onesie situated, I picked her up and walked over to my wife. I gave her the infamous Bravo puppy eyes.

“Look at eeer. She’s so damn cute. You can’t tell me you don’t think she’s cute. She loves me. I can’t tell her no. Come on mamá, you can’t turn this face down. And it’s only while we’re here. Not forever.”

Talia’s face softened as she looked at Molly, reaching up to scratch under her chin. Then she let out a defeated sigh, “Fine. But this is all on you two. I’m staying out of it.”

I did a happy tappy dance, causing her to laugh. Luca threw his arms up as he hissed out a “Yeeeeesss.”

I won. Again. I knew she couldn’t turn down the Bravo charm.

Natalia’s POV

Seeing Dieter giddy over a new foster baby always made my heart swell. I always gave him hell over it, but it was only because I liked to get him worked up and flustered as he tried to argue his case. I would never tell him no. I knew how important it was for him to care for those who couldn’t care for themselves, and that included the furry critters he often showed up with. Ever since we adopted our first bat-eared rescue dog, Moony, he had turned into a bleeding heart for all the animals - domesticated and wild.

It was something Luca had picked up, too. Caring for our mini zoo was one of Luca and Dieter’s favorite ways to spend time together. It kept them busy and also taught Luca about responsibility. So, it wasn’t something I could be upset about. I just never knew what they were going to show up with next. Especially while we were spending time at the vineyard.

With every new addition to our little circus, came more chaos in the household. It was something we were definitely not strangers to. It was a way of life at this point, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Molly was no exception to this pattern. The mess in the pantry was only the beginning.

The next morning, I awoke to an empty bed. It wasn’t completely unusual as Dieter was an early riser. However, a loud clacking noise and cackling tea kettle laughter drifting up the stairwell was. I sighed, crawling out of bed and throwing on my fluffy robe as I glanced at mine and Dieter’s shared journal on the night stand. It was opened to the latest entry with a white rose laying in the crease.

“I woke up thinking about the magical time we had together yesterday and so did my morning wood. Can we sneak in a quickie when you wake up? xoxo D.”

I snorted out a laugh. I never knew what I would find in his messy scrawl.

A loud squeal of laughter pulled my attention back to the ruckus downstairs, reminding me of why I had drug myself out of bed. My eyes were not prepared for the sight they found when I reached the last step. Moony and the three foster pups were racing through the house, slinging toys as they went. That wasn’t what had my attention though. It was Dieter. He was on all fours with his ass in the air and a horse riding helmet on his head - headbutting Molly. Luca sat nearby, holding his stomach from laughing at the chaos before him.

“What the actual fuck are you doing?” I asked, biting back a smile.

Dieter sat upright just as Molly came in for another hit, headbutting him in the stomach. I couldn’t help to guffaw over the wind being knocked out of him.

Dieter coughed out a laugh, “Don’t judge me. I’m teaching Molly very important goat-life lessons. This is how they play.”

I shook my head, looking at Luca. “Do me a favor and don’t try that, please.”

Luca shook his head, “I’m not. I actually have brain cells.”

Dieter scoffed, “Ha. Ha. Very funny you two.”

I got tickled all over again when I looked at him. His face was flushed and a little sweaty. His fluffy hair was sticking out in all directions from under the helmet. He looked like a mess. My mess. And I would never get tired of him or his antics.

This was how the next several mornings started. Between the three foster puppies and the baby goat, our house was a full-on circus. If it wasn’t one of the still-in training dogs using the bathroom on the rug in the hallway, then it was Molly ripping her diaper off and dropping little pellets through the house as she tried to sneak off to the pantry. She was successful a few times and even figured out how to open the accordion door. Which led to Dieter attempting to “baby-proof” the pantry and eventually the cabinets too. Our summer break had definitely turned into an adventure that I wasn’t expecting.

Two weeks into goat-gate, as I had taken to calling it, we got a little break. Dieter took Molly to spend some time with her goat siblings for the night because he was convinced she now thought that she was a dog. Mateo and Lucia invited Luca over for dinner and to help with trimming and stringing the latest batch of green beans from their garden for canning. Luca loved helping and jumped at the opportunity, so I couldn’t argue.

That’s how I found myself alone, lying on the hammock under the fairy lights in the backyard. There was silence except for the insects and frogs as the last rays of sunshine disappeared over the Sonoma mountains. It was a nice change of pace, but I found myself missing my boys.

That feeling didn’t last long because Dieter came shuffling out of the house, in nothing but a pair of gym shorts and a smile. His hair was a fluffy mess, causing my fingers to twitch with the urge to touch it.

“The dogs are fed and settled into their room. It’s relaxation hour on Dog TV, so I wager they’ll nap and stay out of trouble.”

I snickered. The way he treated the dogs like kids always warmed my heart but still amused me. He came to a stop next to the hammock, the glow of the fairy lights above emphasized the dips and curves of his arms and chest, making my body ache for him. His smile widened, “You gonna scooch over and make room for me? I wanna cuddle.”

I snorted out a laugh, shifting to make room for him. “Yeah, I know what ‘cuddle’ is code for.”

He feigned innocence, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

After some adjusting and nearly flipping the hammock, we settled in together - wrapped up in each other as always. My fingers traced along the contours of his stomach as he hugged me tighter.

He sighed, “I fear I may have bitten off more than I can chew with the baby goat. She’s…a lot.”

“Well, at least you admit it.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t ground me after that one.”

I smiled against his chest, “You know I just like to give you a hard time. I love your caring heart. I’ll never tell you no when it comes to your fostering endeavors. Within reason, of course. Maybe next time leave the opossums to the wildlife professionals though.”

He snorted out a laugh, “Oh it wasn’t that bad. You just sort of surprised each other is all. I should’ve told you he was chilling in the laundry room before you found him.”

I chuckled, “Ya think?”

“Luca thought it was hilarious though.”

“Of course he did. He thinks everything you do is hilarious. He fits right in.”

He sighed, “He does, doesn’t he? I think he was meant to be with us. I swear, if you had told me six or seven years ago that this would be my life, I never would have believed it. It’s so fucking perfect.”

My heart clenched in my chest, remembering everything we had gone through at that time. I never would have thought we would end up here either. Our life really was perfect now.

He chuckled, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Thank you for continuing to put up with my shit. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Oh, I knew what I signed up for when I married you, Mr. Bravo. Your love and your chaos. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

I shifted, propping myself against his chest to look at him. He was giving me a toothy smile, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners. My fingers scratched at the patchy greying scruff on his chin, causing him to lean into my touch like one of the puppies.

He groaned as his eyes fluttered shut, “Ya know, we do have the place to ourselves for a few hours…”

I smiled, allowing my hand to drift downward to settle over the front of his shorts. He was already hard, sucking air through his teeth as he bucked against my palm. He squirmed under my touch just as I adjusted for a better angle, causing the hammock to tilt, spilling us onto the grass. Dieter broke my fall, eliciting a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

“Maybe we should take the chaos upstairs to the bedroom before we hurt ourselves,” I finally managed to say between my guffaws.

His hand rested on the curve of my neck as he smiled up at me. He leaned in for a gentle kiss, whispering against my lips, “Yeah, then I’ll show you what this love and chaos can do to your body.”

And he did. Over and over again.

A/N: Happy 2nd anniversary to Dieter & Talia! I've had this one on the back burner for a bit and thought this might be a good time to yeet it out into the world. It's just a little something to remember these two with. I thought it would be fun for you to know how Dieter finally got his baby goat. I hope you enjoyed. 😘

💜Mysty

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