This is just so jack coded 🤤
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTjD9bm83/
OH ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY
PEDRO PASCAL crashing DIEGO LUNA’s interview and promoting ‘The Mandalorian’ D23 EXPO 2022 @ the Anaheim Convention Center
We really get to see this sunshine of a man be a brutal broody depressed vigilante on TV again 🥹
oh snap
every year after you turn 17 you get further away from being the age of the dancing queen and that’s my least favorite thing about growing up
DIEGO LUNA on BBC Radio 1
Look at the mess you’re in now, sweetheart, cryin’ on a cock that’s too fuckin’ big for you. What am I gonna do with ya?”
WARNINGS - Mean!joel, dom!joel, cock hungry!reader, impish!reader, one shot, size kink, Joel miller monster cock, ‘We shouldn’t be doing this’ vibes, cause Joel’s all guilt ridden and sexually frustrated, lots of dirty talk, guided masturbation (joel talks you through fucking yourself), mid-fuck pep talk from a man old enough to be your father, girthy legal but unspecified age gap, fingering, pain kink, brief mention of tummy bulge, dacryphilia, dubcon, unprotected PIV, cream pie, cum eating, aftercare in the form of oral sex (f!receiving) wedgie kink if you squint, horny brain took over when I wrote this, dingy motel sex.
FIC HELP - @tofics!!! Thank you for the thorough beta, sweetheart!!! you did so fucking much to help me with this fic and i'm really fucking grateful, more than words could say!! @beefrobeefcal @cum-a-calla and @/endlessthxxghts (rip i miss your presence on this shitshow of a website every day) thank you sweet babes for all of the encouragement and support!! I love you all!!
A/N - Long time no see! It’s been a while since I’ve posted a fic, even while since I’ve written for Joel. Gosh. I hope you’re all surviving the winter as best you can <3 it’s been a rough one, huh? Enjoy and have a safe rest of your week :)
The bed frame groans for the seventh time in a span of five minutes. Through his nose, Joel sighs in irritation at that sharp, grating creak, the sound of the bed hitting against the wood paneled walls to match. You’ve been at this for the last hour and a half - wriggling, flipping back and forth in the bed, tugging that old, scratchy, floral comforter off of Joel’s body to swaddle around yours, only to throw it off again seconds later. You’ve flipped your pillow more times than he can count, adjusting where you lay your head in search of that coveted cold spot.
It’s hard to sleep when you keep touching him. Mindlessly, you press up against Joel, and inch away again. His patience for this routine of yours wore thin long ago, sanded down by too many nights of this same ordeal.
Joel feels the mattress dip and shift a little, the subtle warning of you gearing up to toss your body again, but he’s had enough. He grabs you by the wrist before you can do so, holding you tight enough so that you feel the rough calluses of his palm on your skin. “Enough. Quit fuckin’ squirmin’,” he rasps, his voice tired but edged with warning. “I told you to go to sleep an hour ago.”
“I can’t,” you snap.
“Bullshit. Y’ain’t even tryin’.”
Joel’s heard this from you before. You’ve always been more restless, whereas Joel’s a heavier sleeper by nature, aided by the alcohol and the pills that lull him off into dreamless unconsciousness. But you’ll keep him up anyway, usually complaining that you’re too hot. Or too cold. Or you’re thirsty, and you need some of his water. No, you don’t have any. Yes, you know you’re a pain in his ass.
Joel will get you settled, only for you to start all over again. In the subsequent mornings, you’ll be crabby and snapping at him, and he’ll bite back just as hard, pissed off hours of his sleep were lost to you.
“So what’s your excuse this time?”
“It’s nothing,” you mumble, adjusting in bed again. You kick your feet, toeing at the tangled fabric of your pants bunched up around your legs. Joel squeezes your arm in warning, nails pressing into your skin a little. “Joel - stop. Just let me—”
Joel cuts you off, “Yeah, I know. Sit up.”
Obeying him, you sigh and sit up straight, playing with a loose thread in the comforter as Joel leans over your side of the bed, his body radiating warmth and his own scent of something you couldn’t name, something distinctly Joel - perhaps some sort of heavy soap or maybe whiskey. It radiates thick in the space between you and him. He fluffs your pillows a little, then places them back down. “Lay down,” he tells you, and you fall back onto the soft, warm mattress. “S’that comfortable?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
Joel nods quietly, then reaches for the comforter next. He shakes it a little to smooth out the bunches in the material, then lays the flannel sheet over your torso, following with the comforter itself.
“And you have to tuck the blanket in—”
“By your shoulders, I know,” Joel says, tucking the blanket under your chin and your shoulders. “Everything, huh?”
Joel settles himself next, situating his own pillows before lying on his stomach. “Now get some sleep. Do that slow breathin’ I told you ‘bout, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Good girl. G’night, then.”
“Night, Joel.”
Joel closes his eyes and nestles into the mattress, drifting off to something halfway between asleep and awake, but closer to the side of unconsciousness. You close your eyes too, counting your breaths. In for four seconds, just like Joel told you. Hold, out for four seconds.
Maybe it’d work if you weren’t trying to force your body into it. If you weren’t thinking about how very awake you are, when you should’ve been asleep hours ago. If you weren’t thinking about Joel.
He’s been on your mind lately, more than usual. You spent so much time alone with him, learning all the neat things about him. He was such a brute at first, and speaking honestly, he still is. But there’s a gentler side of Joel. Softer. Tender, in his own way.
You really, really fucking like Joel. You’ve never liked anyone the way you like him. He makes you feel all sorts of sensations. Anger, annoyance, joy. He makes your heart pound and makes you breathe funny sometimes, but not always in a bad way. You spend a lot of time just looking at him, tucking away the parts of him you love deep inside your brain, saving it for moments alone. His body is softer with his age, but his arms stay strong, shoulders so vastly broad. And his face, the wrinkles in his skin, those neat scars. That look he gets in his eyes when he’s pissed at you, and his lips and his frown. You watch the way he eats sometimes, fixated on the way his lips move, wondering how they’d move against another’s. Maybe your own. His hands, as he traces maps, books, whatever. Veins and tendons twitching. His palms are so fucking big, so masculine.
Joel keeps his distance, always decent. It’s not lost on you. You know he knows how you stare at him, contemplating whatever it is you think about in that head of yours. He doesn’t want to know. Can’t know.
His breathing is evening out now. His lips are parted, and you feel his warm breath on your cheek, tickling your earlobe. He looks so handsome bathed in that milky, bluish moonlight that pours in through the window over his face.
There’s an ache throbbing between your thighs, the same thing that’s been keeping you up recently. Arousal. Joel seems to worsen the pain, just by existing, somehow. Even just thinking of him makes you throb a little harder.
Squeezing your thighs together alleviates that ache momentarily, so that’s what you do. You cross one leg over the other and squeeze tight, but it’s not enough. Of course it’s not. You know what you need, something more sustainable than this. Something real, something raw. Something…Joel.
You give your underwear a gentle tug while rocking your hips, just needing that extra bit of pressure. Gripping tight the waistband of your panties while wiggling your hips, shaking the creaky bed a little in the process, the motion rouses Joel from his sleep. He opens one eye to watch you wriggle and jerk, noting that look of concentration painted across your features.
“What’re you doin’?”
“Joel!” Your whole body jolts and you straighten your legs quickly, flattening your hands at your side. “Nothing.”
He sighs, “If you’re gonna lie to me, sweetheart, y’need to be better at it. Now what is the matter with you?”
You have to be sharp here. You could tell the truth and have Joel inevitably scold you, call you a fucking pervert and that you should be ashamed of yourself or…
…you could bend the truth some, not much. Just a little fib. You spin the story quickly in your head. Something something…you can’t come on your own - lie, and you just need Joel to do it for you - another lie. Far be it from him to leave a girl in distress, right? He’s got to be the hero, always. Has to save the day while bitching that you’d be dead without him. Because that’s Joel Miller, always carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and always by his own doing. How your heart bleeds for him as you proverbially rub your pointer finger and your thumb together, the world’s tiniest violin playing just for him.
“It’s - fuck,” you groan, shifting in bed as you play up the lie. “It’s nothing. Just - something kind of hurts, that’s all.”
“What hurts? Let me see.” Joel sits up quickly, reaching for the light. “Show me,” he says.
“No, Joel. You can’t - it’s like, I don’t know. It’s…embarrassing, I think.”
“I don’t care,” he grumbles. “Y’gotta tell me. So spit it out, kid.”
You exhale softly, closing your eyes. Joel’s lying on his side, sitting up a little as he carefully searches your face. You can’t look at him right now because fuck, you’re a bad liar. You turn away so you don’t break and smile or something. “I’m like, throbbing,” you murmur, “And wet, uh…down there, I guess. I don’t know–”
Joel holds up a hand, “Alright, enough. Jus’ - go deal with it. I’ll give ya some privacy,” he says, sitting fully upright and taking off the covers.
“Deal with it how?” you ask, feigning ignorance. You’ll take this as far as it needs to go, or until you’re caught red-handed.
“You know, like…” Joel waits for you to get the picture, but you just stare at him blankly.
“Won’t it just go away?” God, you are so full of shit, you almost make yourself sick.
Joel scoffs quietly, and you have to bite down on your smile. You’re playing him like a fucking fiddle. “It don’t work like that, sweetheart,” he says. “You have to handle it on your own.”
“Can you do it?”
“Fuck, no,” he answers quickly. But Joel looks down at you, contemplating. God, you’re fucking...this is the reason you keep him up so late? Part of him wants to leave you here, just like this, to figure it out and deal with it on your own. But Joel’s not confident that’ll happen, since you’ve gone this long without it, apparently. Feels like a lie.
“Or can you help me?”
“Help you how?”
“Just…make sure I’m doing it right. Like, how you’d do it to your lover or something.”
“You are fuckin’ ridiculous,” Joel sighs under his breath. “How I’d do it to my lover, huh?”
“Right.”
Joel thinks for a moment, then speaks, against his better judgement. “Alright.” He takes a deep breath in and out, taking in you on the bed, scanning the gorgeous outline of your body. “I’d spread her legs,” he says, watching the comforter move as you part your thighs. “Wider than that,” he adds.
“Like this?”
“Jus’ like that, s’good,” Joel nods. “And I’d take my hand,” he says, reaching for your wrist, “Put it right here, between her thighs,” laying your palm over your mound. “Under her pants.”
“Fuck, yeah,” you murmur, sliding your hand beneath your pants and panties. You press down a little, groaning softly at the pressure. Fuck, it feels good. Even better with Joel’s presence. “Feels good,” you sigh, pressing your fingers down harder against the sensitive bud. You can feel it throbbing beneath your fingertips.
“I’d rub her in circles.”
“Hard or soft?” you ask. “Fast or slow?”
“Whatever she wants,” Joel answers.
You spread your legs a little wider, your knee nudging against Joel’s tummy, and it takes everything he has not to touch you. It wouldn’t be right, he believes. This act alone is pushing the bounds of his morals.
“Like this, Joel?”
Joel watches the comforter move above your hand as you trace steady circles into your clit, and stifles a groan. As his cock thickens and twitches in his pants, he inches away from you so you don’t feel his arousal. “Yeah, darlin’. Like that.”
“And then what?”
“I’d keep goin’ til…well, you’ll figure that out.”
He takes a moment to watch, admire the show. Brows pinched together, a little bit of sweat sparkling on your temples. Joel can feel the heat radiating from your body as you work yourself, chest rising and falling, hips and legs twitching. “M’gonna leave you to it, then,” he mumbles finally, getting up to leave.
“No,” you gasp, reaching for his arm with the hand you used to fuck yourself. Joel feels your arousal on his skin, and notices how wide your pupils are. “Stay.” He does consider it for a moment. His fucking balls ache, desperate to find his own release too.
“It’s - it’s not enough, Joel.”
Clarity hits him then, and he shoots you a knowing glare. You’re such a bad fucking liar, laying it on way thicker than you need to be. “It’s plenty,” Joel snaps, “I’m leavin’. Hurry up an’ sort yourself out.”
“Don’t go,” you beg. “Can you try it?”
“What? No.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Joel says. “It’s not a good idea. C’mon, honey, I know you’re smarter than this.”
“But I can’t do it on my own,” you argue back. “I think - fuck - I think I need you to fuck me. I need to come on your cock.”
“Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you can’t say shit like that. M’old enough to be your fuckin’ daddy.” Joel rolls his eyes. This absolutely tracks for you, averse to doing any hard work at all. He pauses, then speaks, “You don’t need me to take care of this for you. Y’just want it. I know you, kid. You don’t like doin’ any hard work yourself. Am I right?”
“No,” you insist, “I really think I need it. Need you.”
You look at Joel, silently begging him to give you what you’re asking for. Joel’s eyes dart left and right as he searches your face, breath hitched in his throat. God, the way you look at him. Your eyes are all wide and innocent and pleading, he knows you’re giving him that look on purpose. “Don’t look at me like that, you fuckin’...Christ almighty,” Joel groans. “Fine,” he concedes.
“You’ll fuck me?”
“Absolutely not,” he snaps. “You can have my fingers. If I do this for you, will ya settle down an’ go to sleep?”
“Yes,” you agree, nodding quickly. “I’ll go right to sleep, Joel, I promise.”
Joel eyes you from the side. “You’re fuckin’ trouble,” he mumbles, scooting closer to you. His bulge presses against your hip, eliciting a gasp from you. “Jus’ ignore it,” he says. “Don’t get any ideas.”
He loops his fingers over the waistband of your pants and panties, then tugs them down your thighs until he can’t anymore. “Take ‘em off the rest of the way,” he tells you.
You wriggle off your pants, then pull off your shirt, now lying bare on the bed underneath the covers. Joel’s eyes widen, then he shakes his head. “Selective hearing,” he grumbles.
“What?”
“Just needed the bottoms gone, sweetheart.”
“Oh,” you whisper, sliding down the mattress a little more, covering your shoulders with the sheets. Joel props himself up on his elbow, the side of his head resting against his knuckles. His free hand travels over to you, fingers drumming against your hips.
“Y’ready?”
“Mhm,” you hum, anxiety and excitement permeating the air. Joel’s hand slides down to your inner thigh, and he can feel the heat from your pussy, the way you vibrate with desire.
Joel should tease your pussy. He should make you ache for it, more than you already are. Trace your lips, press his finger against your wet slit to gather your arousal. Like he would with his lover, right? But he shouldn’t even be here with you right now, god. He’s too fucking old, and you’re too fucking young. The age gap alone makes his head spin, but fills a dark part of him with an animalistic type of hunger. A hunger to ruin you, you pretty, young thing. He reminds himself that this is simply a means to an end, nothing more.
He slides his warm palm over your mound, nudging your thighs apart a little more. When his fingers touch your clit, you sigh in relief. That alone feels miles better than your own fingers, so much more concentrated.
“Jesus,” he murmurs, then rubs your clit. Not in circles, like he instructed you to do. He just rubs you there, fingers sliding back and forth over your clit as you relax into his touch. “Y’should be doin’ this yourself.”
“But it feels…it feels…”
“I know,” Joel says, slipping his fingers down the seam of your cunt to collect your arousal. You’re so fucking wet. He drags them back up, then rubs practiced, steady circles over your clit. It’s efficient and very bare bones, no bells and whistles or pulling out his usual stops. Joel has one goal, and that’s to get you off as quickly as possible, and that’s it. “Feels good,” he answers for you, then adds under his breath, “You’re playin with fuckin’ fire.”
You whimper, clutching Joel’s forearm as he guides you to orgasm. What he doesn’t realize is just how close you are, only from a little bit of his touching. You know you’re on the brink of orgasm, but you also know that when you reach that point, that’s it. You’re done. Joel’s made that much clear, that this is all you’re gonna get from him, and it has to be enough. But of course, it’s not. Not even close.
Joel dips his fingers lower, pushing his middle and ring fingers into your pussy. He keeps a palm pressed against your tummy, then curls his fingers rhythmically, bringing you to a place you’ve never been before. You moan loudly, writhing as he curls his fingers inside you, stroking that special little spot he loves so much on a woman. Silently, Joel moves his thumb to circle your clit, guiding you closer and closer to the edge.
Joel can tell you’re about there, and he’s correct in that assumption. You feel like you’re about to break, staving off release. Everything feels heightened, thrumming with something electric and almost sharp. Your moans come out all breathy, Joel’s name broken as it spills from your lips. Lost in your head, Joel pulls you back down to earth, speaking softly to you. “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”
“N-no,” you whimper, shaking your head.
“Yes ya are. You’re right there, honey. Let go.” Joel rubs your clit a little harder to coax release along. He’s waiting for that golden moment, where you tense up and gasp before falling to pieces, a melting, shuddering mess in his hands. Only…it never comes. Joel studies you intently, watching the way your face moves. Finally, he realizes that you’re fighting it.
“What’re you doin’? I’m givin’ you what you want, sweetheart, just fuckin’ come.”
“No,” you repeat, squeezing Joel’s wrist. “I don’t want to yet.”
“Why not?” You squirm a little, and Joel stops fucking you on his fingers. “Hey - why the hell not?”
“Because I want you to fuck me,” you whisper quietly.
Joel scoffs. “Oh, you are workin’ my last goddamn nerve. I already told you, sweetheart. You come on my fingers or you don’t come at all. Choice is yours.” Joel continues circling your clit, but you still fight him.
“But I want you to fuck me,” you repeat, begging, balling your hands into tight fists as you stave off release. “I just - I told you already, but you’re not - you’re not fucking listening to me, Joel. I need–” Your desperation makes the mask slip. You have got to pull yourself together before you fuck this entirely.
“Hey - adjust the fuckin’ attitude. I already told you no, sweet pea. And I don’t have to listen to you. You listen to me,” he grits, his tone biting. “Get that through your skull, because m’sick of repeatin’ myself.”
“Why?” you complain. “Why won’t you do it?”
“Because,” he explains, “You can’t handle it, kid, I know you can’t. Too big f’ya. And it’s wrong,” he adds, “I shouldn’t even be doin’ this to you.”
You love the challenge his words incite. Oh, you’ll show him what you can handle, alright. Filled with a renewed sense of perseverance, you ground yourself and focus hard.
Joel focuses too, hellbent on not being a worse man. What he’d really like to do, really, is split you in two with his cock. He’s not unaware of his size, what he does to a woman. Especially one like you, who’s absolutely in over her head and has not the faintest notion of what he could do to her. He’d teach you a fucking lesson, maybe. Shove his cock down your throat to watch you choke on it, feel that delicious pulse as you gag. He could fuck your ass, too, watch your eyes roll back into your skull as he makes you take all of him. That’d teach you to listen to him for once, right? A little pain to put you into place, you fucking brat?
You’re right on the edge. You know it, and so does Joel. The way you soak his two thick fingers, your cunt pulsing around them erratically. Your brows are knit together as you twitch and shudder, trying your goddamn hardest to not come. Joel’s amazed at your will.
“C’mon, kid, just come for me. Be done with this,” Joel urges, frustration laced in his tone. “Don’t piss me off, sweetheart. You don’t want that.”
You shake your head, “Mm-mm - n - I wanna, I need your -”
Joel holds his palm over your mouth, cutting you off. “No. You’re not ready for it,” he tells you. “Y’don’t know at all what you’re askin’ for. Not a fuckin’ clue.”
Joel lifts his palm. “I do, too,” you argue. “Please, Joel, I can handle it.”
“Sure you can, sweetheart.”
“I’ll be good.”
Those three little words make Joel’s breath hitch in his throat. You have to know exactly what you do to him, with the looks you give him and the way you beg. You’ll be good. God, he’s gonna end up fucking giving it to you. He shouldn’t, he really fucking shouldn’t.
“Please?”
Joel sighs heavily, worn down by your incessant, sweet fucking begging. And honestly, what he wouldn’t give to ruin you. To fuck you in half, shatter you into pieces. So be it, he decides.
“Fine,” Joel says. “But this didn’t fucking happen. Do you understand me?”
“I understand,” you answer sweetly. Christ, your fucking good girl act. You have to know what you do to him.
“A’int fuckin’ right,” Joel mumbles, rising and yanking the covers off the bed. He quickly takes off his shirt and shucks off his pants, gripping his cock tightly as he hovers over you. He never should have fucking indulged you, but here he is. Joel reaches between your thighs to collect your arousal on his fingertips, then coats his cock in your mess. He’s fucking huge. He’s generously thick as well as long, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to handle it like you said you would. “No backin’ out now,” Joel says.
“I’m a little nervous,” you admit.
“I’ll bet you are,” Joel says, and your heart races. He lowers himself, then presses the thick tip of his cock against your pussy, dragging it through your folds before notching it inside your tight entrance. “Your pussy’s too pretty f’ya to let me do this to you,” he says. “Now take a deep breath.”
You take a deep breath in, and that’s when Joel begins working himself inside you. You whine in pain, scooting back towards the headboard to try to slow it down.
“Where d’ya think you’re goin’, huh? You stay right there, sweetheart.”
“Slow down, please—”
“What’s the matter? Thought you could handle it, tough girl,” Joel taunts, squeezing your hip while sliding further inside you. He’s not even a quarter of the way in yet, and you’re already reeling from the pain of his thick cock stretching you out. He draws out a little, admiring the tip of his cock coated in your arousal, then inches back in. “S’really hurtin’ ya, huh?”
You grab any part of him that you can, attempting to temper the way he enters you. Make it slower, gentler, less…less. He pulls out a little, then pushes in further than before, earning another high-pitched whine from you.
“Who tried to talk ya out of it, sweetheart? Hm? Who warned ya? You remember how to say my name? It's Joel, darlin’. Sound it out.”
Joel’s being so mean, and it makes you feel like crying. He draws in and out of you, still yet to bury himself all the way inside, watching your reactions as he holds a hand on your ribcage, making you take it all.
“Yeah, I know. S’a big stretch, huh? Hurtin’ pretty bad?”
“Yeah,” you whimper, looking down at where your bodies connect. You’re not even close to taking all of him in, and already it feels like he’s fucking you in two.
“Mhm. In over your head, aren’tcha, kid? You gonna listen to me next time?”
“Yes - fuck!” Joel pushes in another inch or so, and it makes you yelp in pain. “Yes, I’ll listen,” you say, voice thick with tears. Joel watches them begin to fall, and he quickly wipes them away with the back of his hand.
“Won’t hurt forever,” Joel grunts. “S’easier f’ya rip off the bandaid. Want my help with that, sweetheart? I’ll make it quick.”
“N-no,” you sniffle. “I need you to go slow.”
Joel nods silently, continuing working himself inside. A small movement of his hips out, then in, then out again, and in a little further. He could make you take it all right now, be done with this whole song and dance. It really would be easier on you. The proverbial mercy-kill. That dark part of Joel sort of likes the pain he gives to you, though. He tries not to think about that too hard, stuff that feeling down deep.
Oh, the tears you cry. The pretty face you make, features all contorted in pain. Joel gives your hip a soothing little rub before moving his hand to your clit, massaging the sensitive bud as he pushes into you, making you whimper even more.
“I know it hurts.” Joel presses his palm against your cheek, rubbing your lips with his thumb as your cunt pulses around his length. “Let it be a lesson to ya, huh? Stay out of a grown man’s business. He knows better’n you. ‘Cause look at the mess you’re in now, sweetheart, cryin’ on a cock that’s too fuckin’ big for you. What am I gonna do with ya?”
“I don’t know,” you sniffle.
“I know you don’t. Tried to tell ya this wasn’t a good idea, sweet pea,” Joel whispers. “Now buck up. You’re halfway there.”
Joel takes the liberty to speed the process up, to sheathe himself in you fully, and does so quickly. At least, quicker than you’d like him to, as evidenced by your high-pitched whines. “Shhhh,” Joel hushes, pushing his fingers into your mouth as if to pacify you, or distract you at the very least. “I know, I know, I know.” You bite into Joel’s palm, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel his cock splitting you in two.
“Quit your cryin’, and breathe. I got you, kid,” he says, “We’re finishin’ this,” then pushes in you the rest of the way, the blunt head of his cock kissing against your cervix. “There,” he grunts, “Worst is over.”
You open your eyes, first looking at Joel and then between your bodies, where his connects to yours. You don’t see any of his length left, only the long, wiry, bits of graying hair that surround his member. What you don’t see - what Joel does see - is that pretty, thick bulge his dick makes against your tummy.
He lifts his hand from your mouth, “I did it?” you ask.
“You did it,” Joel affirms. “Good job. Proud a’ ya, kiddo.”
Joel gives you a second to get used to the feeling of him buried inside you, to wrap your head around it. There’s not much thinking going on in that head of yours, though, that much he can tell. All cockdumb and he’s barely even fucked you.
It doesn’t feel good yet, like it should. It’s an intense pressure, an awful stretch, and it worsens with every throb and twitch of Joel’s massive cock. You squeeze his biceps as he lowers his head and bites your shoulder hard enough to leave a mark, and then you bury your face in his curls. He draws out of you and oh, there it is. “Attagirl, easy does it,” he groans, “You just lie there and take my cock, sweet girl. Take it good for me.”
Joel sets his pace then, steadily pushing in and out of you. It’s not violent or cruel, not even particularly harsh, but the hurt is still there. Joel rocks his hips, pulling out of you all the way and filling you right back up again with each and every stroke. Soon enough, you’re moaning.
“Yeah, that’s it. Goddamn, sweetheart. Don’t hurt so bad anymore does it?”
“No.” You shake your head. “Still hurts,” you murmur, voice tight with pain.
Joel chuckles. “Oh, it does, huh? Tsk. Well, you’re in it now, darlin’. Gotta see it through. Don’t try an’ quit on me.”
Joel increases the speed at which he fucks you, damp curls falling over his forehead as sweat glitters on his skin, a bead of it rolling down the length of his aquiline nose. He watches you intently, a stern sort of expression painted across his features. That dimple on his right cheek flashes as he purses his lips, a grunt escaping his throat.
“Joel,” you choke out.
“M’almost done, sweetheart. Gimme five more minutes. You can do five minutes, can’t ya?”
The pain is relentless, unwavering, until it starts to vanish, replaced by a dull pleasure. It builds in time as Joel pounds into you, increases with every brush of his pubic bone against your clit. He keeps a hand on your breast, squeezing the flesh there hard enough to bruise, pinching your nipple before soothing the ache with a practiced flick of his tongue. Jesus Christ, you feel good. Your soft body, all for him. The way your poor cunt hugs him so sweetly - he’s not lasting much longer now.
“Why don’t you try an’ come for me, pretty girl? Can you do that f’me?” Joel licks his fingers and starts to rub your clit in those same circles from earlier, coaxing along your release.
It’s no surprise you come as hard as you do, as quickly as you do. All pent up for god only knows how long, and the way you were hellbent on staving off your climax earlier. It’s enough to ruin anyone.
With a couple more good, hard thrusts, you’re clenching around Joel’s cock, his name spilling from your lips as you come undone. Poor girl. You look so overwhelmed, so fucking wrecked as you come so hard, and it’s no wonder to Joel why exactly that is. “There it is,” Joel coos, wiping away the tears you cry. “Ohh, yeah. That’s a good one.”
Joel guides you through your orgasm as he chases his own, fucking you harder and deeper. He pounds you in non-rhythm, his thrusts frenzied and frantic before he’s coming too, spilling load after hot load of his come inside you, filling you with the most soothing warmth. He pulls out of you quickly to watch his spend spill from between your thighs, and it’s so intimate, the way he watches you experience that private pleasure.
“Goddamn, baby. I fuckin’ ruined her,” Joel whispers, gathering a bit of his spend on his fingertips to push it back inside. “Why’d you want me do that to ya, huh?”
You only shrug. Words are hard for you right now.
“She still hurtin’ a little?”
“A little,” you answer quietly.
“Mhm, she’s all swollen. M’gonna kiss her all better, alright? I’ll be nice an’ gentle.”
Joel taps your hip and mumbles something you don’t hear, what with the ringing in your ears, then lifts your bottom half and slides a pillow beneath you. He parts your legs, and is so profoundly tender as he drags a thumb through your sensitive, slick flesh.
As promised, his lips replace his fingers. Joel begins with a quick kiss, then another, and another. His facial hair feels almost sharp against you, almost painful, but his tongue is so soft. So practiced as he licks up the seam of your cunt, tasting his own work - not that he minds, really. His lips quickly attach to your clit, and he suckles gently. You don’t need much, not right now. He keeps himself buried in that beautiful space between your thighs until you’re coming again, a little softer than before. Gentler. The quiet after the storm.
You’re crying, all overwhelmed still. Joel scoops you up into his arms and covers you with the comforter, quietly shushing you. “I know, sweet girl. It’s over now. Was a lot, wasn’t it?”
“Mhm,” you hum, sniffling still.
“S’why you gotta listen to me, hm?” Joel pushes some hair out of your face, then kisses your warm cheek as he lays you on your side. He fixes the blankets, lays them all out flat and even before taking his place next to you, curling his frame around you. “I gotcha, kiddo.”
As you settle into bed, Joel scratches up and down your side, and kisses your shoulder. “Two orgasms,” he mutters. “You made out like a fuckin’ bandit, sweet pea. You know that?”
Another shrug, and Joel chuckles. “You gonna be a good girl and go to sleep now?”
“Yes, Joel.”
“Alright. Sweet dreams, trouble.”
If you enjoyed, please please please reblog with some sweet thoughts or hop in my inbox 🩷🩷 your kind words go farther than you know in keeping me motivated to write. It’s been a while. I’ve missed my Joelie perverts 🫂💕
Kitty tax for my sweet readers 🩵
to ICE: fuck off and eat curb.
don't open the door.
ask for the warrant signed by a judge
ask for a lawyer
don't sign shit
don't answer a single question
they need a warrant. ask them to slide it under the door. no warrant, no entry. ask for an interpreter. it's your right to understand what's going on. don't answer a single question. that whole "anything you say can and will be used against you" is true. tight lips = ICE shits. lawyer the fuck up. do some research on immigration lawyers in your city / state. and don't sign anything. nothing.
your employer needs to share your employment eligibility, but they don't have to say shit about your immigration status to ICE. always know your individual rights.
this is all I need to get by.
THE LAST OF US Season 2, Episode 6: The Price