#if u catch my drift ;)

[bastardmandennis]

you are what you love

(joel miller x f!reader) | AO3 | masterlist

Summary: It’s your birthday and Joel has a surprise for you.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: SMUT (18+ only pls!), no y/n, no outbreak!, porn no plot, established relationship (bf joel >>>), birthday sex (woo!), fingering, massages, unprotected piv, creampie, some dirty talk, joel in sweatpants. come sharing/eating (a lil), praise kink if you squint. i think that's it but please let me know if i missed something!

A/N: happy birthday to me, this is very self-indulgent and i hope you all like it too :) (you don’t have to read be my daddy first to get this, but you can if you want, it’s a free internet 🤭) and thank you to the best @party-hearses for reading this for me, ily 5ever

The lights in the living room are off when you walk in the door, kicking your shoes off and calling out to Joel. It’s quiet, suspiciously so—no running footsteps coming to greet you, no overlapping chatter as Sarah and Ellie tell you about their day.

“Hello? Joel?” you call again. “Anyone?” Maybe he was in the basement again–

A pair of hands reaches out to cover your eyes, pulling you back into a warm body. His hands are rough, voice low in your ear. 

“Got a surprise for you,” Joel murmurs and you shiver. 

“Hmm, what’s the occasion?” you ask, pretending to be confused. Joel nips at your neck and you laugh. So easy. 

“Smartass,” he grumbles. Nudges the back of your knee with his, start walking, and you do without hesitation, letting him guide you past the kitchen—the hum of the dishwasher your only clue—and into the living room, catching your toe on the edge of the area rug. He’s steady behind you, there you go, watch your step, patient as you fumble your way to the edge of the couch. 

“Keep your eyes closed,” he orders and you nod, yes sir, scrunching your eyes even tighter as he takes his hands away to spin you around and push you gently onto the couch. There’s a shuffle and you try to figure out where he is when his voice comes from behind you, soft and low in your ear. 

“Okay, open.”

Your eyes spring open, adjusting to the low light of the room until you finally find what you’re supposed to be looking at. An obnoxiously large white banner hangs crookedly on the wall across the couch, covered in stickers and glitter. Happy Birthday! trails off the edge of the paper, clearly out of room, in bright bubble letters. On the coffee table is a small gift bag and a vase filled with flowers. You look back at Joel and he’s already looking at you, a proud smile on his face.

“Happy birthday,” he says, leaning over to finally kiss you, slow and sweet and nice. “Got another surprise for you.”

“More? I’m so spoiled,” and he laughs, you fuckin’ brat, smacking a kiss on your cheek as he reaches around for something–he doesn’t let you see what it is, settling back on the couch and motioning for you to sit with him. You swing a leg up, ready to straddle him and he stops you. Twists you around until your back is pressed against his chest, nestled in between his thighs. 

“Look so pretty, was thinkin’ about you all day,” he whispers into the side of your neck. You reach a hand back to comb through his hair, getting long now, and he hums. His thumbs rub absentmindedly at the skin of your thighs, moving higher and higher until he reaches the side of your panties and then he moves them back down, ignoring your protests. You tilt your hips back, trying to get his hands where you want them, and feel the half-hard bulge of him pressing into your back, warm even through his sweatpants. He shushes your whines, helps you fling your top off, pushes your skirt down and away somewhere, and then his hands are on you, warm and a little callused. He rests one hand low on your stomach, just playing with the waistband of your underwear, grabbing your jaw with the other to tilt your head back toward him for a kiss. It’s rougher now, more desperate, and the sound he makes when you grab at his hair makes you clench your thighs together, stop teasing me, it’s my day.

“Do you want your surprise or not?” he grumbles, biting your neck just hard enough to make you squirm. “Gonna listen?” and you nod. “Good girl.” He reaches for a small bottle of massage oil, and rubs some between his hands, warming it up. The slick glide of it feels incredible as he makes his way down your neck, your shoulders, your back, before reaching around to rub right under your breasts, hooking his chin over your shoulder so you can both watch his hands move. He grabs the bottle and lets it drip drip drip onto your chest, the cold oil sliding slowly down until he reaches with slippery hands to pinch your nipples, hard from the oil and his hands, whispering in your ear the whole time. Such pretty tits, look so good like this, all spread out and beggin’ for me. Your breath stutters and you both watch as he trails a sticky hand down to where you’re already wet, grinding against you when he peels away your panties and sees just how ready you are, fuck, how’d i get so lucky baby? and all you can do is whimper until finally he takes mercy on you and begins circling your clit, the oil making the movement even smoother. 

Please please please you whisper and he shushes you, ’s alright baby, gonna give you what you need, dipping his fingers down to press up into you. He’s moving so slowly and he laughs when you grab at his arm, alright birthday girl, alright. The sounds of his fingers fucking deep into you, his harsh breaths in your ear, the way his hips move almost without thinking, little thrusts that jostle you onto his hand even more—it’s so much, you can feel the pressure growing and growing and when you try to tell Joel in between breaths he just thumbs your clit again, i know baby, can feel you, go ahead and let go, and finally you do, the rush leaving you lightheaded as he holds you steady against him with one arm, the other hand flicking lightly until you push him away, too much.

He brings his fingers up, covered in you, and sucks them in his mouth, groaning at the taste. He grabs your jaw with the same wet fingers, open, and spits it back into your mouth, letting the taste of you and him settle on your tongue before he’s kissing you, licking into your mouth like he’s trying to get every last drop. 

“Christ, Joel,” you breathe when you finally break away. “I fucking love you, like seriously.” 

“Oh, like seriously?” he repeats, laughing. “Good to know.”

“Guess I’ll just leave then, if we’re done he–” His arms are back around you before you can stand up, yanking you back onto his lap with a huff, ’m not done with you yet. His cheeks are flushed, hips raising to meet yours as his lips meet yours. He taps your leg, up please, and you sit up enough that he can pull his sweatpants off, cock slapping against his stomach and already leaking when you wrap a hand around it, tracing the vein there just to feel him pulse in your grip. 

“Not gonna- shit, please let me fuck you, please,” he begs, on the edge of a whine. He reaches down to grab at your ass, hands slipping from the oil, trying to get you to move until finally you take pity on him and sink down on him. He won’t take his eyes off of where you’re stretched around him, soaking the dark curls, and the sounds he makes are breathless, punched out of him with each roll of your hips. For someone who’s normally so quiet, so choosy with his words, that filter seems to vanish every time he’s inside you, his voice rough in your ear as he tells you how good you are, how much he loves you, feels so good baby. He’s right there when you try to tell him you’re close, licking a smear of oil from your chest, sneaking a hand down to stroke your clit, thrusting up up up until you’re coming again around him. You’re whining, feeling his lips on your neck, the kick of his cock inside you as he comes with one, two, three more thrusts, hips stuttering, you can take it, that’s it, just like that, trying to fuck his cum even further into you.

You’re both sweaty and sticky and the couch definitely needs to be cleaned now, but you’re not worried about any of that as you slump onto his chest, the thumpthumpthump of his heartbeat matching yours. His hair is curling at the edges and he rolls his eyes when you push it back away from his face, you really need a haircut. 

“Good surprise?” he asks, smoothing a thumb over your cheek.  

“Yeah, it’ll be even better when you clean the couch for me.” Joel growls playfully at your answer, pinching and tickling your sides until you’re screech-laughing, mercy please, you win.

“C’mon, girls’ll be here soon with cake.”

And when Tommy shows up thirty minutes later with an ice cream cake and the girls in tow, he pointedly doesn’t say anything about the scrub marks on the couch, both of you still wet from the shower, shaking his head and sitting on the floor instead.

--

thank you for reading :)

[moth-tea-merchant]

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[happeecat]

頂きます

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she was made just for me.

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george + red stimboard

x x x // x x x // x x x

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okay tomorrow is the day i hop back on and do stuff

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Trying out a new style.

Inspo from the Hillywood behind the scenes video.

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Lucius didn’t rail Pete in that rations closet, after which he asked Pete if he was good to walk, for you to make him the bottom in your fanfics.

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[crushpdf]

Sometimes writers need a little brain juice to make words 😤 If you want, you can supply me some brain juice, and I’ll make you some words 👀

Drop me an ask to talk about the words you think I should make 🤫

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rly wanna do a piece of cas standing in the middle of a crossroad

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good morning i am trying to have a good day today

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“where do you see yourself in 5 years”

i don’t xx

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i think most of those celebrities that signed that thing (and most of them that have said anything pro-isr***) are just like. severely uninformed and falling victim to propaganda without actually having any historical knowledge

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Pre-show Copia drives me wild idk 😌🤭