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lmao!!
I was wondering if you'd write anything about Joel and free use?
Love your account babeđ
thank you so much babe, i loved this idea! i hope you enjoy my take on it. i was fantasizing about...
renting a room from joel miller and striking a deal to lower your rent.Â
3.5k words đwarnings: explicit smut, no outbreak au, age gap (reader in college), female reader, brief mention of f masturbation, free use!!, size kink, pussy pronouns, unprotected piv, use of: sweetheart, darlin'Â
click here for more of my writing
So you end up short on options for housing after breaking up with your ex. You know it seems weird to be a young woman willing to rent a room from an older man who is âŚwell in all versions you spin itâŚa total stranger. But, your aunt swears heâs a good guy.Â
She used to live in his neighborhood, knew his daughter, figured he has the extra room and put you in touch. And all things considered, she hasnât led you astray. I mean, he hasnât murdered you.Â
Okay, itâs not that bad. He doesnât give off murder vibes either. More likeâŚgrumpy single man vibes. But that works out for your arrangement. Youâre both pretty quiet and you keep to yourselves. And heâs not too bad to look at. You catch yourself straddling a line between not being the creep yourself and just wanting to get to know him a little bit.Â
The real problem has nothing to do with him and everything to do with you. Well with your bank account. Youâve been bleeding your measly savings trying to keep up with life and the job you have isnât really enough to live off of. It was a dream to find a hybrid schedule and work for a non-profit with a mission that matters to you. But it doesnât pay for shit.Â
Itâs not like Joelâs overcharging you or anything either. Nothing is affordable.Â
And now youâre on your last legs. If you canât keep this together youâll have to pack it up and crawl home to your family? Not an option. Itâs not like you havenât been applying for other jobs either. But you either donât hear back or the schedule wonât work with your classes.Â
So here you are. Pacing back and forth in your sparsely decorated room. Between your bed and your desk, wearing a groove into the carpet, chewing on your fingers and obsessively checking your phone to see if your sage friends have any better advice.Â
They donât.Â
Well, they suggested selling feet pics online, but even if that could be lucrativeâit doesnât get you the money to spend by tomorrow. You toss yourself onto your bed, exasperated. Last resort. Youâre gonna have to be honest.Â
It takes a long time to gather the mental courage. You stare at your ceiling for so long your eyes blur. You can hear Joel in the kitchen and with a deep breath you force yourself up, dragging your feet down the hallway until you see him.Â
The kitchen is warm, whatever heâd made for dinner earlier smells good. So good it makes your stomach growl, announcing your presence in the doorway. The sound makes you grimaceâfor a split second youâre tempted to hide. To run back to your room and pretend like there wonât be any consequences if you just donât bring it up. Ever.Â
Too late. He shuts the dishwasher with a loud click and turns, his sharp brown eyes meeting yours. You immediately regret this idea. Your feel like youâre sinking into the floor. You donât know how long youâve been staring at him now.Â
âHey,â he says gruffly, his voice low and even. He turns back away from you, putting leftovers in the fridge, like itâs no big deal youâve been standing there silently like a weirdo. âYou need something?âÂ
Your throat is suddenly so dry, you can barely unstick your tongue to speak. âYeahâŚuh, can I talk to you for a second?âÂ
Joel pauses mid-motion, before shoving the last container onto the shelf and letting the fridge door shut, trapping you in the silence together. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks toward you. The way his shirt stretches across his shoulders makes you nervous for reasons you donât want to analyze right now.Â
âSure.âÂ
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, your hands twisting in front of you like theyâre trying to strangle each other. His eyes flick down to the motion, and you force yourself to stop.Â
âSo, uhâŚI was wonderingââ You swallow hard. You can do it. âI need to talk to you about my rent.âÂ
His eyebrows lift, and your chest tightens.Â
âLetâs hear it then.âÂ
âItâs just that Iâm in kind of a tight spot right now. Workâs beenâwell, itâs been fine but moneyâs tight, and I justââ Youâre rambling. Words all running together. âIâm not saying youâre charging too much or anything like that, butââÂ
âSlow down,â Joel holds up a hand, and the rest of your words fall flat. His voice is calm, but firm. âYou sayinâ you canât afford it?âÂ
âI can!â you blurt out. âI mean, I canât by tomorrow, but I can soon. I just thought, maybe we could work something out. LikeâŚif you could give me some more time or if I could do something to work off some of what I owe.â Joel tilts his head slightly, studying you in a way that makes your skin prickle. You canât tell if heâs annoyed or just thinking, and the silence stretches too long for comfort.Â
Finally, he exhales through his nose, dropping his arms and leaning his palms on the counter behind him. His voice is lower when he speaks again, quieter, like heâs weighing every word.Â
âYou wanna do something for me?âÂ
Your heart skips, and you blink up at him. Maybe that was a dumb suggestion. You donât even know what you have to offer. The house is always clean, the yard maintained, he seems to enjoy cooking.Â
âUh, yeah?â your face contorts a little as you try and come up with a suggestion. âIf youâd consider giving me a discount.âÂ
His lips twitch, just the barest hint of a smirk, and something about it makes the air in the room shift.Â
âWell,â he drawls, âIf Iâm cuttinâ you a deal,---âÂ
âYouâll consider it?â You look at him with a smile already starting to break on your face. You can breathe.Â
âMaybe you can cut me one, too.â He finishes his sentence. Your mouth hangs open, but nothing comes out. Thereâs something behind his words you donât fully understand, but itâs stuck in the air between you.Â
âWhat kind of deal?â you manage to get out, your voice hesitant.Â
Joel pushes off the counter, closing the space between you in a way thatâs casual, but calculated. Heâs close enough you can make out the lines at the corners of his eyes, the salt-and-pepper in his beard. His gaze holds yours, steady and charged with something new.Â
âYou say yes,â he starts to explain, his voice dropping into a gravelly timbre that makes your pulse quicken. âAnd Iâll knock your rent down as much as you need. Simple.âÂ
The room suddenly feels small, too warm, like his gravity is holding you in place.Â
âSay yes to what, Mr. Miller?â Your voice is soft, just a whisper rolling off your tongue. You have an idea what heâs proposing. The way his eyes flicker with something dark and knowing when you refer to him as Mr. Miller. The crackle in the air between you.Â
âI think you know what I mean.âÂ
You shake your head, ever so subtly, wrinkling a brow. In what feels like slow motion, Joel tips your chin up, between his thumb and curled forefinger. Your face is on fire. Somehow exposed even though nothing else has changed.Â
âWhenever I need you. Wherever I want you.âÂ
For a second you think he might kiss you. It feels like everything in your body is calling to him. His mouth is so close to yours. The words are still replaying in your mind.Â
But he pulls his hand back. âThink about it,â he murmurs and brushes past you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body. He glances back at you once on his way out of the room. âOfferâs on the table, sweetheart,â he says over his shoulder. âUp to you.âÂ
Youâre left standing, still as a stone, heat prickling up your spine as his words replay in your head.Â
What the fuck just happened?
âHey!â you call out, starting down the hall after Joel. âWait.âÂ
He turns, hovering in the doorway to his room.Â
âUh, are you talking about sex?âÂ
âYep.âÂ
Your breath hitches. The corner of his mouth quirks, smug. You look at him with fresh eyes. Heâs an attractive guy. Not exactly pleasant, but not a jerk. You canât imagine heâd have a hard time picking up a date.Â
âIâm not a whore, you know.â âI know, darlinâ.â His face softens a little.Â
The next couple of days are filled with tension so thick itâs impossible to ignore. Whenever youâre in the same room you can feel his eyes lingering on you. He brushes past you in the kitchen in the morning, his hand grazing your hip when he reaches for his coffee mug.Â
You catch him watching you from across the room, leaning against the counter like he has all the time in the world. His eyes roam all over your body, dark and deliberate, and you can feel the promise in his gaze.Â
Itâs driving you fucking insane. You thought heâd have made a move by now. Hell, you thought heâd have made a move the second you agreed to his deal. But heâd only made sure you each had a few ground rules and that was it. End of conversation.Â
âHave a good night now, darlinâ. Hope you sleep better without having to worry about your rent.âÂ
Right. You didnât have to worry about rent. You just had to spiral in your own room wondering when it would happen. How heâs going to take you.
Itâs got you so worked up thinking about him you keep spacing out during your work meetings. Swiveling restlessly on your office chair in your bedroom, trying to remember to look focused and add your two cents in for participation.Â
But all you can think about is Joel. Youâre on high alert whenever you hear his truck roll into the driveway, the door slamming shut with a thud. His heavy steps coming down the hall. You wonder when heâll want you. You know he meant it.Â
You hope he meant it.Â
That night, his footsteps pause outside your door, his presence thick in the air, setting your pulse racing. It makes you squirm, adjusting the skimpy pajamas youâve taken to wearing as your heart beats faster. You canât tell if heâs debating coming in or if heâs just fucking with you, but itâs got you breathless.Â
The next morning, youâre standing in the bathroom doorway, brushing your teeth when Joel suddenly appears, shirtless and still damp from his shower. He gives you a lazy once-over, stepping close enough that you have to press yourself against the door frame to let him pass.Â
His voice is low and teasing as he murmurs, âYouâre in the way, sweetheart,â leaving your cheeks flaming.Â
The next day, youâre still tense.Â
Stretching in your desk chair as your coworkers read through their budget updates and data tracking for the grants youâre funded through. Itâs hard to stay focused, Joel has taken over all of your thoughts.Â
Jaz finishes her update and another department leads the rest of the meeting. Youâre shuffling your notes around mindlessly, barely hearing a word. Every thought in your head is Joel, Joel, Joel.
Last night, youâd nearly combusted when he finally walked away from your door. Youâd been seconds from begging him to come in, to just take you already. By the time he left, your thighs were slick, and the ache was unbearable. You had to handle it yourself, coming hard and fast on your fingers, imagining it was his thick, calloused hands instead.
But now, twelve hours later, the tension is already back. Worse than before. Every noise in the house puts you on edge. His truck rumbling into the driveway. The front door shutting.Â
The meeting drags on, voices fading into a blurâuntil a soft knock jolts you back to reality.Â
Before you can answer, the door swings open, and Joel steps inside like he owns the placeâwhich, technically, he does. He leans against the frame, arms crossed, looking completely unbothered by the fact that youâre clearly in the middle of something.
Your heart races. Your eyes flick to your camera to make sure itâs off. Muted. Thank God.
Joel doesnât say anything, just watches you with a smirk that makes your stomach flip. His dark eyes roam over you, slow and deliberate, and itâs like every molecule of air has been sucked out of the room.
He takes his time crossing the space between you, letting the silence stretch. You can feel the heat radiating off him as he crowds you, hands bracing the arms of your chair, caging you in.
âYou gonna tell me to stop?â he drawls, his voice low and gravelly.
Your throat is so tight you canât even speak. You shake your head.
Joelâs smirk deepens. âThatâs what I thought.â
His big hands tug you to the edge of your chair, spreading your knees wide. He runs his palms along your thighs, leaving a trail of heat that burns your skin through your soft leggings.Â
Your heart jumps to your throat, chest tight.Â
The thought of your coworkers just a click away only heightens the thrill.Â
Joel doesnât hold back. Pulling you to stand. Turning you to face your desk and pressing until you lean your elbows on the smooth surface, framing your keyboard.Â
You arch your spine eagerly, holding your breath, bracing for his next move. He smooths a palm over the curve of your ass, humming softly to himself, before slipping his hand between your legs.Â
You tilt your head, a shaky breath escaping as his fingers press against you, making your thighs tremble. You know he can feel how wet you already are through the thin material. All day youâre wet for him, just waiting and waiting.Â
His touch is firm and you grind into it without thinking, making him laugh under his breath. âShit,â he murmurs. âShe needs it worse than I do, huh?â You donât answer. Just dropping your head between your shoulder blades as he rubs circles against your clothed pussy.Â
He retracts his hand, swiftly pulling your leggings down, exposing your puffy, wet folds to the cooler air.Â
You stay folded over, forehead resting on your desk, ass arched in presentation. You donât know what to expect next, your pulse thunders in your ear as you wait.Â
His hands frame your cunt, spreading you wider so he can look closer. Youâd be self-conscious being studied so closely if you were any less desperate for him to touch you. But all you can do you is silently beg him to do something.Â
âChrist,â he murmurs reverently, dropping to his knees behind you. âJust a taste first.â It sounds like heâs talking to himself. You donât care.Â
You gasp sharply the second his tongue dips between your swollen lips. Itâs so much better than your fingers and your frustrated, rushed orgasms last night. Itâs so much better.Â
He uses his whole face, diving deeper, as he groans into your pussy. Your meeting is still in progress, but the voices coming through your speakers could be speaking a foreign language. They mean nothing to you right now.Â
The only thing that matters is between your legs. Youâre almost embarrassed at how close you already are. You donât know if you should say anything. If he cares if he makes you cum. Before you can think any harder, heâs back on his feet and youâre whimpering at the loss.Â
âI know.âÂ
The soft clink of his belt followed by the sound of him unzipping his jeans has your knees weak. The thrill that shoots through you is like lightning, ripping through your system and activating every nerve in your body.Â
Be good," he growls, dragging his cock through your slick.
âOh, fuck,â you canât help the awe and the relief. The heat, the thickness, the pressure. Itâs everything you need, but not enough at the same time. He continues for a moment, coating his length in your arousal as you try to swallow down your needy moans.Â
He slots his blunt tip at your entrance, adding enough pressure to make you suck in air. Without even seeing it, you know itâs going to be a stretch. Like he can read your mind, or at least your body, he runs his hand soothingly over your spine.Â
It shouldnât melt your nerves so fast, but the gentle touch eases your mind. For reasons you canât explainâfeelings really, you feel safe.Â
âWeâll start slow this time, sweetheart. Donât worry.âÂ
And then heâs nudging into you, working you open around his wide cockhead. Itâs mildly uncomfortable, but you welcome the dull ache. Your throbbing pussy has been begging for it. He pulls back, repeating the slow movement, splitting you open for him a little further each time.Â
It makes you needy, you try to push back against him, but he only swats at your ass. âI told ya to be good.âÂ
Your cheeks feel hot at the scolding.Â
âSorry, Mr. Miller.â It comes out more confident than you expected, your voice smooth and low.Â
You can feel the way his dick twitches at your response before he continues, painstakingly slowly, filling you up. Youâre still frustrated, but each time he thrusts into you, your knees almost buckle and you know he hasnât made it all the way in yet. Youâre still hungry for that feeling, for his hips to meet your ass, flush.Â
You canât hold back your moans as he drags along your nerves. He already has your eyes rolling back and heâs not even fucking you yet.Â
Until he stops, held still halfway inside of you. You blink your eyes open, trying not to whine.Â
He says your name like heâs been calling it and youâve been ignoring him. âHmm?â you respond.Â
âThink theyâre waiting for your answer.âÂ
âOh, shit.âÂ
Joel still doesnât move. You unmute your mic, trying to steady your voice. âIâm really sorry, uh, can you repeat the question?âÂ
âJust confirming your mid-cycle reports are already submitted.âÂ
âYes.âÂ
âGreat.âÂ
You mute the mic again and Joel slams the rest of the way home, making you cry out in surprise.Â
He doesnât hold back now, his rough hand gripping your hip as he takes you, low grunts echoing in your room as he snaps his hips forward. Your ass ripples, bouncing off of him with every thrust and the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin fill your ears.Â
He hits so fucking deep at this angle, you can barely think. His balls slap against you and for some reason that makes you even more crazy for him. You meet his every thrust with the same energy, fucking hard. So hard your desk rattles, but neither of you can be bothered by itâs structural integrity.Â
He keeps you on edge, pounding into you as the pressure builds. When you shift slightly, his cock drags over the devastating spot that makes you nearly wail.
âYeah?â he asks as if you could respond right now. âRight there?âÂ
âMmm,â is all you can manage.Â
âGood. Let me have it. Rub that pretty clit of yours for me, I wanna feel her trying to milk me dry.âÂ
Fuck. His filthy words nearly send you over the edge immediately, but when you slip your own hand between your legs, itâs euphoric. Furiously working at your slick, swollen bundle of nerves you drive yourself to the brink.Â
âGonnaâah!--gonna cum,â You get the breathy, gasping words out right as your pussy starts to clench around him. He groans lowly, making you see stars as your climax tears through you.Â
The waves are still rolling through your muscles, your core still tensing, when he pulls out. The slick sounds as he pumps his cock rapidly are obscene and you donât want them to stop. But then you feel his hot cum painting your ass, and youâre moaning in unison.Â
Then heâs pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before slinking out of your room. You grimace. Tuning back in to the speaker still rambling on about god knows what on your computer. Before you can move, Joel is back with a small towel to clean you up.Â
Youâre stuck in a daze. A blissed-out state, as you straighten up and pull your leggings back up. Joelâs about to slip back out the door as if nothing happened. Before he steps out of the room though, he gives you a knowing smirk, âYou did good for me, darlinâ.âÂ
Youâre left staring at the closed door, breathless and trembling, the heat of his touch still lingering on your skin. Rent isnât the problem anymore. Joel Miller is.
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same!!! ready for him anytime
I was wondering if you'd write anything about Joel and free use?
Love your account babeđ
thank you so much babe, i loved this idea! i hope you enjoy my take on it. i was fantasizing about...
renting a room from joel miller and striking a deal to lower your rent.Â
3.5k words đwarnings: explicit smut, no outbreak au, age gap (reader in college), female reader, brief mention of f masturbation, free use!!, size kink, pussy pronouns, unprotected piv, use of: sweetheart, darlin'Â
click here for more of my writing
So you end up short on options for housing after breaking up with your ex. You know it seems weird to be a young woman willing to rent a room from an older man who is âŚwell in all versions you spin itâŚa total stranger. But, your aunt swears heâs a good guy.Â
She used to live in his neighborhood, knew his daughter, figured he has the extra room and put you in touch. And all things considered, she hasnât led you astray. I mean, he hasnât murdered you.Â
Okay, itâs not that bad. He doesnât give off murder vibes either. More likeâŚgrumpy single man vibes. But that works out for your arrangement. Youâre both pretty quiet and you keep to yourselves. And heâs not too bad to look at. You catch yourself straddling a line between not being the creep yourself and just wanting to get to know him a little bit.Â
The real problem has nothing to do with him and everything to do with you. Well with your bank account. Youâve been bleeding your measly savings trying to keep up with life and the job you have isnât really enough to live off of. It was a dream to find a hybrid schedule and work for a non-profit with a mission that matters to you. But it doesnât pay for shit.Â
Itâs not like Joelâs overcharging you or anything either. Nothing is affordable.Â
And now youâre on your last legs. If you canât keep this together youâll have to pack it up and crawl home to your family? Not an option. Itâs not like you havenât been applying for other jobs either. But you either donât hear back or the schedule wonât work with your classes.Â
So here you are. Pacing back and forth in your sparsely decorated room. Between your bed and your desk, wearing a groove into the carpet, chewing on your fingers and obsessively checking your phone to see if your sage friends have any better advice.Â
They donât.Â
Well, they suggested selling feet pics online, but even if that could be lucrativeâit doesnât get you the money to spend by tomorrow. You toss yourself onto your bed, exasperated. Last resort. Youâre gonna have to be honest.Â
It takes a long time to gather the mental courage. You stare at your ceiling for so long your eyes blur. You can hear Joel in the kitchen and with a deep breath you force yourself up, dragging your feet down the hallway until you see him.Â
The kitchen is warm, whatever heâd made for dinner earlier smells good. So good it makes your stomach growl, announcing your presence in the doorway. The sound makes you grimaceâfor a split second youâre tempted to hide. To run back to your room and pretend like there wonât be any consequences if you just donât bring it up. Ever.Â
Too late. He shuts the dishwasher with a loud click and turns, his sharp brown eyes meeting yours. You immediately regret this idea. Your feel like youâre sinking into the floor. You donât know how long youâve been staring at him now.Â
âHey,â he says gruffly, his voice low and even. He turns back away from you, putting leftovers in the fridge, like itâs no big deal youâve been standing there silently like a weirdo. âYou need something?âÂ
Your throat is suddenly so dry, you can barely unstick your tongue to speak. âYeahâŚuh, can I talk to you for a second?âÂ
Joel pauses mid-motion, before shoving the last container onto the shelf and letting the fridge door shut, trapping you in the silence together. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks toward you. The way his shirt stretches across his shoulders makes you nervous for reasons you donât want to analyze right now.Â
âSure.âÂ
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, your hands twisting in front of you like theyâre trying to strangle each other. His eyes flick down to the motion, and you force yourself to stop.Â
âSo, uhâŚI was wonderingââ You swallow hard. You can do it. âI need to talk to you about my rent.âÂ
His eyebrows lift, and your chest tightens.Â
âLetâs hear it then.âÂ
âItâs just that Iâm in kind of a tight spot right now. Workâs beenâwell, itâs been fine but moneyâs tight, and I justââ Youâre rambling. Words all running together. âIâm not saying youâre charging too much or anything like that, butââÂ
âSlow down,â Joel holds up a hand, and the rest of your words fall flat. His voice is calm, but firm. âYou sayinâ you canât afford it?âÂ
âI can!â you blurt out. âI mean, I canât by tomorrow, but I can soon. I just thought, maybe we could work something out. LikeâŚif you could give me some more time or if I could do something to work off some of what I owe.â Joel tilts his head slightly, studying you in a way that makes your skin prickle. You canât tell if heâs annoyed or just thinking, and the silence stretches too long for comfort.Â
Finally, he exhales through his nose, dropping his arms and leaning his palms on the counter behind him. His voice is lower when he speaks again, quieter, like heâs weighing every word.Â
âYou wanna do something for me?âÂ
Your heart skips, and you blink up at him. Maybe that was a dumb suggestion. You donât even know what you have to offer. The house is always clean, the yard maintained, he seems to enjoy cooking.Â
âUh, yeah?â your face contorts a little as you try and come up with a suggestion. âIf youâd consider giving me a discount.âÂ
His lips twitch, just the barest hint of a smirk, and something about it makes the air in the room shift.Â
âWell,â he drawls, âIf Iâm cuttinâ you a deal,---âÂ
âYouâll consider it?â You look at him with a smile already starting to break on your face. You can breathe.Â
âMaybe you can cut me one, too.â He finishes his sentence. Your mouth hangs open, but nothing comes out. Thereâs something behind his words you donât fully understand, but itâs stuck in the air between you.Â
âWhat kind of deal?â you manage to get out, your voice hesitant.Â
Joel pushes off the counter, closing the space between you in a way thatâs casual, but calculated. Heâs close enough you can make out the lines at the corners of his eyes, the salt-and-pepper in his beard. His gaze holds yours, steady and charged with something new.Â
âYou say yes,â he starts to explain, his voice dropping into a gravelly timbre that makes your pulse quicken. âAnd Iâll knock your rent down as much as you need. Simple.âÂ
The room suddenly feels small, too warm, like his gravity is holding you in place.Â
âSay yes to what, Mr. Miller?â Your voice is soft, just a whisper rolling off your tongue. You have an idea what heâs proposing. The way his eyes flicker with something dark and knowing when you refer to him as Mr. Miller. The crackle in the air between you.Â
âI think you know what I mean.âÂ
You shake your head, ever so subtly, wrinkling a brow. In what feels like slow motion, Joel tips your chin up, between his thumb and curled forefinger. Your face is on fire. Somehow exposed even though nothing else has changed.Â
âWhenever I need you. Wherever I want you.âÂ
For a second you think he might kiss you. It feels like everything in your body is calling to him. His mouth is so close to yours. The words are still replaying in your mind.Â
But he pulls his hand back. âThink about it,â he murmurs and brushes past you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body. He glances back at you once on his way out of the room. âOfferâs on the table, sweetheart,â he says over his shoulder. âUp to you.âÂ
Youâre left standing, still as a stone, heat prickling up your spine as his words replay in your head.Â
What the fuck just happened?
âHey!â you call out, starting down the hall after Joel. âWait.âÂ
He turns, hovering in the doorway to his room.Â
âUh, are you talking about sex?âÂ
âYep.âÂ
Your breath hitches. The corner of his mouth quirks, smug. You look at him with fresh eyes. Heâs an attractive guy. Not exactly pleasant, but not a jerk. You canât imagine heâd have a hard time picking up a date.Â
âIâm not a whore, you know.â âI know, darlinâ.â His face softens a little.Â
The next couple of days are filled with tension so thick itâs impossible to ignore. Whenever youâre in the same room you can feel his eyes lingering on you. He brushes past you in the kitchen in the morning, his hand grazing your hip when he reaches for his coffee mug.Â
You catch him watching you from across the room, leaning against the counter like he has all the time in the world. His eyes roam all over your body, dark and deliberate, and you can feel the promise in his gaze.Â
Itâs driving you fucking insane. You thought heâd have made a move by now. Hell, you thought heâd have made a move the second you agreed to his deal. But heâd only made sure you each had a few ground rules and that was it. End of conversation.Â
âHave a good night now, darlinâ. Hope you sleep better without having to worry about your rent.âÂ
Right. You didnât have to worry about rent. You just had to spiral in your own room wondering when it would happen. How heâs going to take you.
Itâs got you so worked up thinking about him you keep spacing out during your work meetings. Swiveling restlessly on your office chair in your bedroom, trying to remember to look focused and add your two cents in for participation.Â
But all you can think about is Joel. Youâre on high alert whenever you hear his truck roll into the driveway, the door slamming shut with a thud. His heavy steps coming down the hall. You wonder when heâll want you. You know he meant it.Â
You hope he meant it.Â
That night, his footsteps pause outside your door, his presence thick in the air, setting your pulse racing. It makes you squirm, adjusting the skimpy pajamas youâve taken to wearing as your heart beats faster. You canât tell if heâs debating coming in or if heâs just fucking with you, but itâs got you breathless.Â
The next morning, youâre standing in the bathroom doorway, brushing your teeth when Joel suddenly appears, shirtless and still damp from his shower. He gives you a lazy once-over, stepping close enough that you have to press yourself against the door frame to let him pass.Â
His voice is low and teasing as he murmurs, âYouâre in the way, sweetheart,â leaving your cheeks flaming.Â
The next day, youâre still tense.Â
Stretching in your desk chair as your coworkers read through their budget updates and data tracking for the grants youâre funded through. Itâs hard to stay focused, Joel has taken over all of your thoughts.Â
Jaz finishes her update and another department leads the rest of the meeting. Youâre shuffling your notes around mindlessly, barely hearing a word. Every thought in your head is Joel, Joel, Joel.
Last night, youâd nearly combusted when he finally walked away from your door. Youâd been seconds from begging him to come in, to just take you already. By the time he left, your thighs were slick, and the ache was unbearable. You had to handle it yourself, coming hard and fast on your fingers, imagining it was his thick, calloused hands instead.
But now, twelve hours later, the tension is already back. Worse than before. Every noise in the house puts you on edge. His truck rumbling into the driveway. The front door shutting.Â
The meeting drags on, voices fading into a blurâuntil a soft knock jolts you back to reality.Â
Before you can answer, the door swings open, and Joel steps inside like he owns the placeâwhich, technically, he does. He leans against the frame, arms crossed, looking completely unbothered by the fact that youâre clearly in the middle of something.
Your heart races. Your eyes flick to your camera to make sure itâs off. Muted. Thank God.
Joel doesnât say anything, just watches you with a smirk that makes your stomach flip. His dark eyes roam over you, slow and deliberate, and itâs like every molecule of air has been sucked out of the room.
He takes his time crossing the space between you, letting the silence stretch. You can feel the heat radiating off him as he crowds you, hands bracing the arms of your chair, caging you in.
âYou gonna tell me to stop?â he drawls, his voice low and gravelly.
Your throat is so tight you canât even speak. You shake your head.
Joelâs smirk deepens. âThatâs what I thought.â
His big hands tug you to the edge of your chair, spreading your knees wide. He runs his palms along your thighs, leaving a trail of heat that burns your skin through your soft leggings.Â
Your heart jumps to your throat, chest tight.Â
The thought of your coworkers just a click away only heightens the thrill.Â
Joel doesnât hold back. Pulling you to stand. Turning you to face your desk and pressing until you lean your elbows on the smooth surface, framing your keyboard.Â
You arch your spine eagerly, holding your breath, bracing for his next move. He smooths a palm over the curve of your ass, humming softly to himself, before slipping his hand between your legs.Â
You tilt your head, a shaky breath escaping as his fingers press against you, making your thighs tremble. You know he can feel how wet you already are through the thin material. All day youâre wet for him, just waiting and waiting.Â
His touch is firm and you grind into it without thinking, making him laugh under his breath. âShit,â he murmurs. âShe needs it worse than I do, huh?â You donât answer. Just dropping your head between your shoulder blades as he rubs circles against your clothed pussy.Â
He retracts his hand, swiftly pulling your leggings down, exposing your puffy, wet folds to the cooler air.Â
You stay folded over, forehead resting on your desk, ass arched in presentation. You donât know what to expect next, your pulse thunders in your ear as you wait.Â
His hands frame your cunt, spreading you wider so he can look closer. Youâd be self-conscious being studied so closely if you were any less desperate for him to touch you. But all you can do you is silently beg him to do something.Â
âChrist,â he murmurs reverently, dropping to his knees behind you. âJust a taste first.â It sounds like heâs talking to himself. You donât care.Â
You gasp sharply the second his tongue dips between your swollen lips. Itâs so much better than your fingers and your frustrated, rushed orgasms last night. Itâs so much better.Â
He uses his whole face, diving deeper, as he groans into your pussy. Your meeting is still in progress, but the voices coming through your speakers could be speaking a foreign language. They mean nothing to you right now.Â
The only thing that matters is between your legs. Youâre almost embarrassed at how close you already are. You donât know if you should say anything. If he cares if he makes you cum. Before you can think any harder, heâs back on his feet and youâre whimpering at the loss.Â
âI know.âÂ
The soft clink of his belt followed by the sound of him unzipping his jeans has your knees weak. The thrill that shoots through you is like lightning, ripping through your system and activating every nerve in your body.Â
Be good," he growls, dragging his cock through your slick.
âOh, fuck,â you canât help the awe and the relief. The heat, the thickness, the pressure. Itâs everything you need, but not enough at the same time. He continues for a moment, coating his length in your arousal as you try to swallow down your needy moans.Â
He slots his blunt tip at your entrance, adding enough pressure to make you suck in air. Without even seeing it, you know itâs going to be a stretch. Like he can read your mind, or at least your body, he runs his hand soothingly over your spine.Â
It shouldnât melt your nerves so fast, but the gentle touch eases your mind. For reasons you canât explainâfeelings really, you feel safe.Â
âWeâll start slow this time, sweetheart. Donât worry.âÂ
And then heâs nudging into you, working you open around his wide cockhead. Itâs mildly uncomfortable, but you welcome the dull ache. Your throbbing pussy has been begging for it. He pulls back, repeating the slow movement, splitting you open for him a little further each time.Â
It makes you needy, you try to push back against him, but he only swats at your ass. âI told ya to be good.âÂ
Your cheeks feel hot at the scolding.Â
âSorry, Mr. Miller.â It comes out more confident than you expected, your voice smooth and low.Â
You can feel the way his dick twitches at your response before he continues, painstakingly slowly, filling you up. Youâre still frustrated, but each time he thrusts into you, your knees almost buckle and you know he hasnât made it all the way in yet. Youâre still hungry for that feeling, for his hips to meet your ass, flush.Â
You canât hold back your moans as he drags along your nerves. He already has your eyes rolling back and heâs not even fucking you yet.Â
Until he stops, held still halfway inside of you. You blink your eyes open, trying not to whine.Â
He says your name like heâs been calling it and youâve been ignoring him. âHmm?â you respond.Â
âThink theyâre waiting for your answer.âÂ
âOh, shit.âÂ
Joel still doesnât move. You unmute your mic, trying to steady your voice. âIâm really sorry, uh, can you repeat the question?âÂ
âJust confirming your mid-cycle reports are already submitted.âÂ
âYes.âÂ
âGreat.âÂ
You mute the mic again and Joel slams the rest of the way home, making you cry out in surprise.Â
He doesnât hold back now, his rough hand gripping your hip as he takes you, low grunts echoing in your room as he snaps his hips forward. Your ass ripples, bouncing off of him with every thrust and the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin fill your ears.Â
He hits so fucking deep at this angle, you can barely think. His balls slap against you and for some reason that makes you even more crazy for him. You meet his every thrust with the same energy, fucking hard. So hard your desk rattles, but neither of you can be bothered by itâs structural integrity.Â
He keeps you on edge, pounding into you as the pressure builds. When you shift slightly, his cock drags over the devastating spot that makes you nearly wail.
âYeah?â he asks as if you could respond right now. âRight there?âÂ
âMmm,â is all you can manage.Â
âGood. Let me have it. Rub that pretty clit of yours for me, I wanna feel her trying to milk me dry.âÂ
Fuck. His filthy words nearly send you over the edge immediately, but when you slip your own hand between your legs, itâs euphoric. Furiously working at your slick, swollen bundle of nerves you drive yourself to the brink.Â
âGonnaâah!--gonna cum,â You get the breathy, gasping words out right as your pussy starts to clench around him. He groans lowly, making you see stars as your climax tears through you.Â
The waves are still rolling through your muscles, your core still tensing, when he pulls out. The slick sounds as he pumps his cock rapidly are obscene and you donât want them to stop. But then you feel his hot cum painting your ass, and youâre moaning in unison.Â
Then heâs pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before slinking out of your room. You grimace. Tuning back in to the speaker still rambling on about god knows what on your computer. Before you can move, Joel is back with a small towel to clean you up.Â
Youâre stuck in a daze. A blissed-out state, as you straighten up and pull your leggings back up. Joelâs about to slip back out the door as if nothing happened. Before he steps out of the room though, he gives you a knowing smirk, âYou did good for me, darlinâ.âÂ
Youâre left staring at the closed door, breathless and trembling, the heat of his touch still lingering on your skin. Rent isnât the problem anymore. Joel Miller is.
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#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction
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thank you so much babe!! đđŤś
I was wondering if you'd write anything about Joel and free use?
Love your account babeđ
thank you so much babe, i loved this idea! i hope you enjoy my take on it. i was fantasizing about...
renting a room from joel miller and striking a deal to lower your rent.Â
3.5k words đwarnings: explicit smut, no outbreak au, age gap (reader in college), female reader, brief mention of f masturbation, free use!!, size kink, pussy pronouns, unprotected piv, use of: sweetheart, darlin'Â
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So you end up short on options for housing after breaking up with your ex. You know it seems weird to be a young woman willing to rent a room from an older man who is âŚwell in all versions you spin itâŚa total stranger. But, your aunt swears heâs a good guy.Â
She used to live in his neighborhood, knew his daughter, figured he has the extra room and put you in touch. And all things considered, she hasnât led you astray. I mean, he hasnât murdered you.Â
Okay, itâs not that bad. He doesnât give off murder vibes either. More likeâŚgrumpy single man vibes. But that works out for your arrangement. Youâre both pretty quiet and you keep to yourselves. And heâs not too bad to look at. You catch yourself straddling a line between not being the creep yourself and just wanting to get to know him a little bit.Â
The real problem has nothing to do with him and everything to do with you. Well with your bank account. Youâve been bleeding your measly savings trying to keep up with life and the job you have isnât really enough to live off of. It was a dream to find a hybrid schedule and work for a non-profit with a mission that matters to you. But it doesnât pay for shit.Â
Itâs not like Joelâs overcharging you or anything either. Nothing is affordable.Â
And now youâre on your last legs. If you canât keep this together youâll have to pack it up and crawl home to your family? Not an option. Itâs not like you havenât been applying for other jobs either. But you either donât hear back or the schedule wonât work with your classes.Â
So here you are. Pacing back and forth in your sparsely decorated room. Between your bed and your desk, wearing a groove into the carpet, chewing on your fingers and obsessively checking your phone to see if your sage friends have any better advice.Â
They donât.Â
Well, they suggested selling feet pics online, but even if that could be lucrativeâit doesnât get you the money to spend by tomorrow. You toss yourself onto your bed, exasperated. Last resort. Youâre gonna have to be honest.Â
It takes a long time to gather the mental courage. You stare at your ceiling for so long your eyes blur. You can hear Joel in the kitchen and with a deep breath you force yourself up, dragging your feet down the hallway until you see him.Â
The kitchen is warm, whatever heâd made for dinner earlier smells good. So good it makes your stomach growl, announcing your presence in the doorway. The sound makes you grimaceâfor a split second youâre tempted to hide. To run back to your room and pretend like there wonât be any consequences if you just donât bring it up. Ever.Â
Too late. He shuts the dishwasher with a loud click and turns, his sharp brown eyes meeting yours. You immediately regret this idea. Your feel like youâre sinking into the floor. You donât know how long youâve been staring at him now.Â
âHey,â he says gruffly, his voice low and even. He turns back away from you, putting leftovers in the fridge, like itâs no big deal youâve been standing there silently like a weirdo. âYou need something?âÂ
Your throat is suddenly so dry, you can barely unstick your tongue to speak. âYeahâŚuh, can I talk to you for a second?âÂ
Joel pauses mid-motion, before shoving the last container onto the shelf and letting the fridge door shut, trapping you in the silence together. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks toward you. The way his shirt stretches across his shoulders makes you nervous for reasons you donât want to analyze right now.Â
âSure.âÂ
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, your hands twisting in front of you like theyâre trying to strangle each other. His eyes flick down to the motion, and you force yourself to stop.Â
âSo, uhâŚI was wonderingââ You swallow hard. You can do it. âI need to talk to you about my rent.âÂ
His eyebrows lift, and your chest tightens.Â
âLetâs hear it then.âÂ
âItâs just that Iâm in kind of a tight spot right now. Workâs beenâwell, itâs been fine but moneyâs tight, and I justââ Youâre rambling. Words all running together. âIâm not saying youâre charging too much or anything like that, butââÂ
âSlow down,â Joel holds up a hand, and the rest of your words fall flat. His voice is calm, but firm. âYou sayinâ you canât afford it?âÂ
âI can!â you blurt out. âI mean, I canât by tomorrow, but I can soon. I just thought, maybe we could work something out. LikeâŚif you could give me some more time or if I could do something to work off some of what I owe.â Joel tilts his head slightly, studying you in a way that makes your skin prickle. You canât tell if heâs annoyed or just thinking, and the silence stretches too long for comfort.Â
Finally, he exhales through his nose, dropping his arms and leaning his palms on the counter behind him. His voice is lower when he speaks again, quieter, like heâs weighing every word.Â
âYou wanna do something for me?âÂ
Your heart skips, and you blink up at him. Maybe that was a dumb suggestion. You donât even know what you have to offer. The house is always clean, the yard maintained, he seems to enjoy cooking.Â
âUh, yeah?â your face contorts a little as you try and come up with a suggestion. âIf youâd consider giving me a discount.âÂ
His lips twitch, just the barest hint of a smirk, and something about it makes the air in the room shift.Â
âWell,â he drawls, âIf Iâm cuttinâ you a deal,---âÂ
âYouâll consider it?â You look at him with a smile already starting to break on your face. You can breathe.Â
âMaybe you can cut me one, too.â He finishes his sentence. Your mouth hangs open, but nothing comes out. Thereâs something behind his words you donât fully understand, but itâs stuck in the air between you.Â
âWhat kind of deal?â you manage to get out, your voice hesitant.Â
Joel pushes off the counter, closing the space between you in a way thatâs casual, but calculated. Heâs close enough you can make out the lines at the corners of his eyes, the salt-and-pepper in his beard. His gaze holds yours, steady and charged with something new.Â
âYou say yes,â he starts to explain, his voice dropping into a gravelly timbre that makes your pulse quicken. âAnd Iâll knock your rent down as much as you need. Simple.âÂ
The room suddenly feels small, too warm, like his gravity is holding you in place.Â
âSay yes to what, Mr. Miller?â Your voice is soft, just a whisper rolling off your tongue. You have an idea what heâs proposing. The way his eyes flicker with something dark and knowing when you refer to him as Mr. Miller. The crackle in the air between you.Â
âI think you know what I mean.âÂ
You shake your head, ever so subtly, wrinkling a brow. In what feels like slow motion, Joel tips your chin up, between his thumb and curled forefinger. Your face is on fire. Somehow exposed even though nothing else has changed.Â
âWhenever I need you. Wherever I want you.âÂ
For a second you think he might kiss you. It feels like everything in your body is calling to him. His mouth is so close to yours. The words are still replaying in your mind.Â
But he pulls his hand back. âThink about it,â he murmurs and brushes past you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body. He glances back at you once on his way out of the room. âOfferâs on the table, sweetheart,â he says over his shoulder. âUp to you.âÂ
Youâre left standing, still as a stone, heat prickling up your spine as his words replay in your head.Â
What the fuck just happened?
âHey!â you call out, starting down the hall after Joel. âWait.âÂ
He turns, hovering in the doorway to his room.Â
âUh, are you talking about sex?âÂ
âYep.âÂ
Your breath hitches. The corner of his mouth quirks, smug. You look at him with fresh eyes. Heâs an attractive guy. Not exactly pleasant, but not a jerk. You canât imagine heâd have a hard time picking up a date.Â
âIâm not a whore, you know.â âI know, darlinâ.â His face softens a little.Â
The next couple of days are filled with tension so thick itâs impossible to ignore. Whenever youâre in the same room you can feel his eyes lingering on you. He brushes past you in the kitchen in the morning, his hand grazing your hip when he reaches for his coffee mug.Â
You catch him watching you from across the room, leaning against the counter like he has all the time in the world. His eyes roam all over your body, dark and deliberate, and you can feel the promise in his gaze.Â
Itâs driving you fucking insane. You thought heâd have made a move by now. Hell, you thought heâd have made a move the second you agreed to his deal. But heâd only made sure you each had a few ground rules and that was it. End of conversation.Â
âHave a good night now, darlinâ. Hope you sleep better without having to worry about your rent.âÂ
Right. You didnât have to worry about rent. You just had to spiral in your own room wondering when it would happen. How heâs going to take you.
Itâs got you so worked up thinking about him you keep spacing out during your work meetings. Swiveling restlessly on your office chair in your bedroom, trying to remember to look focused and add your two cents in for participation.Â
But all you can think about is Joel. Youâre on high alert whenever you hear his truck roll into the driveway, the door slamming shut with a thud. His heavy steps coming down the hall. You wonder when heâll want you. You know he meant it.Â
You hope he meant it.Â
That night, his footsteps pause outside your door, his presence thick in the air, setting your pulse racing. It makes you squirm, adjusting the skimpy pajamas youâve taken to wearing as your heart beats faster. You canât tell if heâs debating coming in or if heâs just fucking with you, but itâs got you breathless.Â
The next morning, youâre standing in the bathroom doorway, brushing your teeth when Joel suddenly appears, shirtless and still damp from his shower. He gives you a lazy once-over, stepping close enough that you have to press yourself against the door frame to let him pass.Â
His voice is low and teasing as he murmurs, âYouâre in the way, sweetheart,â leaving your cheeks flaming.Â
The next day, youâre still tense.Â
Stretching in your desk chair as your coworkers read through their budget updates and data tracking for the grants youâre funded through. Itâs hard to stay focused, Joel has taken over all of your thoughts.Â
Jaz finishes her update and another department leads the rest of the meeting. Youâre shuffling your notes around mindlessly, barely hearing a word. Every thought in your head is Joel, Joel, Joel.
Last night, youâd nearly combusted when he finally walked away from your door. Youâd been seconds from begging him to come in, to just take you already. By the time he left, your thighs were slick, and the ache was unbearable. You had to handle it yourself, coming hard and fast on your fingers, imagining it was his thick, calloused hands instead.
But now, twelve hours later, the tension is already back. Worse than before. Every noise in the house puts you on edge. His truck rumbling into the driveway. The front door shutting.Â
The meeting drags on, voices fading into a blurâuntil a soft knock jolts you back to reality.Â
Before you can answer, the door swings open, and Joel steps inside like he owns the placeâwhich, technically, he does. He leans against the frame, arms crossed, looking completely unbothered by the fact that youâre clearly in the middle of something.
Your heart races. Your eyes flick to your camera to make sure itâs off. Muted. Thank God.
Joel doesnât say anything, just watches you with a smirk that makes your stomach flip. His dark eyes roam over you, slow and deliberate, and itâs like every molecule of air has been sucked out of the room.
He takes his time crossing the space between you, letting the silence stretch. You can feel the heat radiating off him as he crowds you, hands bracing the arms of your chair, caging you in.
âYou gonna tell me to stop?â he drawls, his voice low and gravelly.
Your throat is so tight you canât even speak. You shake your head.
Joelâs smirk deepens. âThatâs what I thought.â
His big hands tug you to the edge of your chair, spreading your knees wide. He runs his palms along your thighs, leaving a trail of heat that burns your skin through your soft leggings.Â
Your heart jumps to your throat, chest tight.Â
The thought of your coworkers just a click away only heightens the thrill.Â
Joel doesnât hold back. Pulling you to stand. Turning you to face your desk and pressing until you lean your elbows on the smooth surface, framing your keyboard.Â
You arch your spine eagerly, holding your breath, bracing for his next move. He smooths a palm over the curve of your ass, humming softly to himself, before slipping his hand between your legs.Â
You tilt your head, a shaky breath escaping as his fingers press against you, making your thighs tremble. You know he can feel how wet you already are through the thin material. All day youâre wet for him, just waiting and waiting.Â
His touch is firm and you grind into it without thinking, making him laugh under his breath. âShit,â he murmurs. âShe needs it worse than I do, huh?â You donât answer. Just dropping your head between your shoulder blades as he rubs circles against your clothed pussy.Â
He retracts his hand, swiftly pulling your leggings down, exposing your puffy, wet folds to the cooler air.Â
You stay folded over, forehead resting on your desk, ass arched in presentation. You donât know what to expect next, your pulse thunders in your ear as you wait.Â
His hands frame your cunt, spreading you wider so he can look closer. Youâd be self-conscious being studied so closely if you were any less desperate for him to touch you. But all you can do you is silently beg him to do something.Â
âChrist,â he murmurs reverently, dropping to his knees behind you. âJust a taste first.â It sounds like heâs talking to himself. You donât care.Â
You gasp sharply the second his tongue dips between your swollen lips. Itâs so much better than your fingers and your frustrated, rushed orgasms last night. Itâs so much better.Â
He uses his whole face, diving deeper, as he groans into your pussy. Your meeting is still in progress, but the voices coming through your speakers could be speaking a foreign language. They mean nothing to you right now.Â
The only thing that matters is between your legs. Youâre almost embarrassed at how close you already are. You donât know if you should say anything. If he cares if he makes you cum. Before you can think any harder, heâs back on his feet and youâre whimpering at the loss.Â
âI know.âÂ
The soft clink of his belt followed by the sound of him unzipping his jeans has your knees weak. The thrill that shoots through you is like lightning, ripping through your system and activating every nerve in your body.Â
Be good," he growls, dragging his cock through your slick.
âOh, fuck,â you canât help the awe and the relief. The heat, the thickness, the pressure. Itâs everything you need, but not enough at the same time. He continues for a moment, coating his length in your arousal as you try to swallow down your needy moans.Â
He slots his blunt tip at your entrance, adding enough pressure to make you suck in air. Without even seeing it, you know itâs going to be a stretch. Like he can read your mind, or at least your body, he runs his hand soothingly over your spine.Â
It shouldnât melt your nerves so fast, but the gentle touch eases your mind. For reasons you canât explainâfeelings really, you feel safe.Â
âWeâll start slow this time, sweetheart. Donât worry.âÂ
And then heâs nudging into you, working you open around his wide cockhead. Itâs mildly uncomfortable, but you welcome the dull ache. Your throbbing pussy has been begging for it. He pulls back, repeating the slow movement, splitting you open for him a little further each time.Â
It makes you needy, you try to push back against him, but he only swats at your ass. âI told ya to be good.âÂ
Your cheeks feel hot at the scolding.Â
âSorry, Mr. Miller.â It comes out more confident than you expected, your voice smooth and low.Â
You can feel the way his dick twitches at your response before he continues, painstakingly slowly, filling you up. Youâre still frustrated, but each time he thrusts into you, your knees almost buckle and you know he hasnât made it all the way in yet. Youâre still hungry for that feeling, for his hips to meet your ass, flush.Â
You canât hold back your moans as he drags along your nerves. He already has your eyes rolling back and heâs not even fucking you yet.Â
Until he stops, held still halfway inside of you. You blink your eyes open, trying not to whine.Â
He says your name like heâs been calling it and youâve been ignoring him. âHmm?â you respond.Â
âThink theyâre waiting for your answer.âÂ
âOh, shit.âÂ
Joel still doesnât move. You unmute your mic, trying to steady your voice. âIâm really sorry, uh, can you repeat the question?âÂ
âJust confirming your mid-cycle reports are already submitted.âÂ
âYes.âÂ
âGreat.âÂ
You mute the mic again and Joel slams the rest of the way home, making you cry out in surprise.Â
He doesnât hold back now, his rough hand gripping your hip as he takes you, low grunts echoing in your room as he snaps his hips forward. Your ass ripples, bouncing off of him with every thrust and the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin fill your ears.Â
He hits so fucking deep at this angle, you can barely think. His balls slap against you and for some reason that makes you even more crazy for him. You meet his every thrust with the same energy, fucking hard. So hard your desk rattles, but neither of you can be bothered by itâs structural integrity.Â
He keeps you on edge, pounding into you as the pressure builds. When you shift slightly, his cock drags over the devastating spot that makes you nearly wail.
âYeah?â he asks as if you could respond right now. âRight there?âÂ
âMmm,â is all you can manage.Â
âGood. Let me have it. Rub that pretty clit of yours for me, I wanna feel her trying to milk me dry.âÂ
Fuck. His filthy words nearly send you over the edge immediately, but when you slip your own hand between your legs, itâs euphoric. Furiously working at your slick, swollen bundle of nerves you drive yourself to the brink.Â
âGonnaâah!--gonna cum,â You get the breathy, gasping words out right as your pussy starts to clench around him. He groans lowly, making you see stars as your climax tears through you.Â
The waves are still rolling through your muscles, your core still tensing, when he pulls out. The slick sounds as he pumps his cock rapidly are obscene and you donât want them to stop. But then you feel his hot cum painting your ass, and youâre moaning in unison.Â
Then heâs pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before slinking out of your room. You grimace. Tuning back in to the speaker still rambling on about god knows what on your computer. Before you can move, Joel is back with a small towel to clean you up.Â
Youâre stuck in a daze. A blissed-out state, as you straighten up and pull your leggings back up. Joelâs about to slip back out the door as if nothing happened. Before he steps out of the room though, he gives you a knowing smirk, âYou did good for me, darlinâ.âÂ
Youâre left staring at the closed door, breathless and trembling, the heat of his touch still lingering on your skin. Rent isnât the problem anymore. Joel Miller is.
click here for more of my writing
please let me know if you liked this!
let me know if you wanna be tagged for more joel fantasies
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a glass of milk
warning: explicit 18+, cum, masturbation, blowjob, swallowing, name calling, dirty talking
picture any dirty pairing and dirty scenario as to why in the same bedroom different beds ~(I know I have to get to know my askbox soon)
âââââââââââââââââââââ
- you wake up to the sounds of the bed rocking, that distinct grunt and with sleep filled blurry eyes could see a naughty hand vigorously pumping up and down right through the blanket
- by the sound of it Joel is already began pre-cumming, the slip and slide of his likely spit slack palms helping his oozing girth
- your pussy genuinely clenches both at the sound and at the thought
- listening and in tune with how he pulls on his cock, probably blue balled and hungry after a wet dream
- âmmmhm, thatâs itâ and âohhh, awwhm. sshitâ echo as he makes the bed creak with every bounce as he writhes while pleasuring himself
- not before long, clearly uncaring of any loud boundary crossing, takes the blanket off and reveals his blatantly gorgeous naked hips and thighs
- more importantly that thick excited cock packed neat with his bulging set of balls
- clenching as he continues rubbing it up and down, pressing his fingers into the skin of his dick tight and softly fucking his hips just right into the little sorry attempt for a self made hole
- âmmmahâ he gasps and grunts, belly caving in as his finish is surely to approach him as hard as heâs pulling and fucking and oozing slick all at the same time
- you wanted nothing more than to have a taste of not only the load thatâll be busted out but also savor the sticky dewy skin of the fat package of that cock
- your pussy clenches just looking at the size of it, the way it wrinkles with every hard pump, the way the girthy head jumps for joy
- he looks so out of it and in his own world and horny you canât help but see to make him gush everything heâs got
- youâre outstandingly quiet in the dark stripping your shirt off, braless and wet in your night panties before blatantly crowding him to interrupt his nut
- the head looked oozy and angry and pink up close, pretty with itâs skin all veiny and tight like his dick is more than ready to spread its seed at any moment
- only one of Joelâs eyes look up at peer at you as if heâs lost in the daze of taking care of that cock in his hands, still pulsing and wiggling and begging for some love and mercy
- you grab onto the base, drool gathered up on your tongue to spit out and release directly on that head, swirling it around your thumb so good
- Joel just pulses and thrusts and grips onto the pillow and accepts that youâve just gone up and taken control of the brunt of the work, kissing and sucking and slurping down shamelessly on his evidently fat and long erection
- âsexy little minx gettinâ on top of me. yeah, kiss it, suck just like thatâmmm. lemme cum all over this pretty tongue. hunny, pleaseâ
- your slobbering sucking noise came to a brief halt, slowing down to wet kisses on the sexy skin of his wrinkly bulging balls, making him gush even harder and let out what appeared to be a shriek
- âthatâs it, sâit sexyâgulp it down like a glass of milk. yeah, knew you wanted it. tickle that clit all night thinking about this like a naughty little thing donât youâ oh, oh fuck Iâm cummin, Iâm cumming all over you pretty girl. swallow it or spit it out on me, donât fuckin care.â
- a long full moon howl sounding groan followed as Joelâs penis began to spasm inside your mouth, shooting spurt after spurt like a cum geyser down your warm willing throat
- âmmmmm didnât take a pretty thing like you to be a swallower.. swallowed my whole goddamn cock now, didnât you?â he asks rhetorically, staring down in awe as you kiss and lick the remains from his entire crotch area, balls dick and thighs and all
- âthat little pussy in those panties waiting to get a ride on this tongue or what, sweetheart? get on.â
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đ¤đ𫶠thank you!!
[900 words of fluff, smut, and breeding kink]
Daydreaming about...
Husband!Joel Miller and the first time it slipped from your lips.
You hadnât meant for it to happen.Â
It was a sultry summer evening, the kind where the air still clung to you even after the sun dipped below the horizon. Youâd both been a little buzzed, the walk home from the neighborhood block party filled with laughter and teasing touches.Â
Joel had barely managed to close the front door before his lips were on yours, his hands greedy and warm as they wandered under your sundress.
It had been the kind of night where everything felt heightenedâthe taste of his tongue against yours, the way his calloused palms felt against your skin, and how his every touch seemed to unravel you. Heâd taken you to bed with that intense, unfiltered adoration in his eyes, the kind that always left you weak in the knees.Â
He was almost too much, murmuring worshipful praises into your ear, and against every inch of your skin. He had that sparkle in his eyes that made you melt. Everything was a pleasant blur, the way your bodies fit together, your giggles as he nearly growled, trying to pull you closer.Â
The haze of his tender, overwhelming love, was more intoxicating than the warmth of the sun and the last hints of alcohol buzzing in your veins. He was pure devotion, attuned to every part of your body, every thought you might have, and coaxing you into a state of euphoria.Â
You didnât even realize you were talking, rambling softly between gasping breaths as he rocked into you, filling you to the brim until your eyes rolled back. But youâd been singing sweet praises right back to him.Â
âSo good,â you whispered. âJust like that, fuck.âÂ
And he did exactly as you said, hitting that perfect angle that had you floating away, lost in the bliss.Â
And then it happened.Â
Slipping free, soft and breathy between moans. âOh, fuck,â your brows scrunching together in that way they always did when you were close. âCum deep, baby, I need it.â Another moan rolled through you as he thrust his cock so deep it kissed the end of you. âThatâs it. I want to carry it inside me, always. Fill me up until it takes, Joel.âÂ
Joel had frozen for a moment, his gaze locking on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. His cock twitched inside of you like he was somehow even harder than heâd ever been. Something primal flickered in his dark eyes, his jaw tightening before he let out a deep, guttural groan.Â
Whatever switch youâd flipped in him sent him spiraling into something wild, feral. Heâd pumped into you like it was his sole purpose, whispering filth and adoration in equal measure, his body relentless against yours until you couldnât tell where you ended and he began. A tangled vine of limbs.Â
Now, a couple of years into your marriage, that same insatiable energy has returned. But this time itâs real. Tangible. The decision to start trying for a baby had been an exciting one, but you hadnât anticipated how it would unleash a new, unstoppable side of your husband.
Joelâs been radiating pure, unadulterated want for weeks now. Itâs in the way he looks at you, like youâre the only thing that matters in the entire universe. Itâs in his hands, which canât seem to stay off you, whether heâs tugging you into his lap on the couch, pressing against you in the kitchen, or pulling you into the shower under the guise of saving water.
Youâre attempting to finish making dinner when you feel him behind you. His strong arms slide around your waist, his chest pressing firmly against your back. His hands find their way to your hips first, then drift upward, cupping your breasts as his thumbs tease over the sensitive peaks through the thin fabric of your shirt.
âSweetheart,â he drawls, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine. âHow am I sâposed to keep my hands off ya when you look like this?â
âJoel,â you protest weakly, though the way your breath catches betrays you. âIâm trying to cook.â
âDonât care,â he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. âNeed you, darlinâ. Right here, right now.â His hands trail lower, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your leggings, and youâre gone, dinner long forgotten as he husks into your ear about how heâs gotta keep you filled up. Spouting off nonsense like how he can hear your pussy begginâ for him, how sheâs feelinâ empty and needs him too.
And somehow, no matter how filthy and feral he gets for you, itâs endearing. Wrapped in love and yearning for the idea of a family. Of more to love.Â
The rest of your daysâand nightsâfollow the same pattern.Â
You find yourself pinned against the kitchen counter, bent over the couch, tangled in the sheets. Heâs unstoppable, each touch, kiss, and thrust carrying a purpose that leaves you trembling and breathless.
Even at work, heâs insatiable. A quick trip to his job site to drop off his lunch turns into a heated, stolen moment in the back of your car. His kisses are ravenous, his hands rough but loving as he pulls you into his lap, his gruff voice murmuring, âCanât wait, baby. Need you now.â
Every touch feels like a vow, every whispered word a promise. Joel loves you with his whole being, and now, with the thought of building a family together, that love has taken on an obsessive edge that leaves you dizzy and utterly devoted to him.
Late one night, as you lie together in the afterglow, his hand splayed possessively over your lower belly, he looks at you with those hearts in his eyes.
âThis time,â he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. âI feel it.âÂ
And you believe him.Â
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thank you!! đđŤś
[900 words of fluff, smut, and breeding kink]
Daydreaming about...
Husband!Joel Miller and the first time it slipped from your lips.
You hadnât meant for it to happen.Â
It was a sultry summer evening, the kind where the air still clung to you even after the sun dipped below the horizon. Youâd both been a little buzzed, the walk home from the neighborhood block party filled with laughter and teasing touches.Â
Joel had barely managed to close the front door before his lips were on yours, his hands greedy and warm as they wandered under your sundress.
It had been the kind of night where everything felt heightenedâthe taste of his tongue against yours, the way his calloused palms felt against your skin, and how his every touch seemed to unravel you. Heâd taken you to bed with that intense, unfiltered adoration in his eyes, the kind that always left you weak in the knees.Â
He was almost too much, murmuring worshipful praises into your ear, and against every inch of your skin. He had that sparkle in his eyes that made you melt. Everything was a pleasant blur, the way your bodies fit together, your giggles as he nearly growled, trying to pull you closer.Â
The haze of his tender, overwhelming love, was more intoxicating than the warmth of the sun and the last hints of alcohol buzzing in your veins. He was pure devotion, attuned to every part of your body, every thought you might have, and coaxing you into a state of euphoria.Â
You didnât even realize you were talking, rambling softly between gasping breaths as he rocked into you, filling you to the brim until your eyes rolled back. But youâd been singing sweet praises right back to him.Â
âSo good,â you whispered. âJust like that, fuck.âÂ
And he did exactly as you said, hitting that perfect angle that had you floating away, lost in the bliss.Â
And then it happened.Â
Slipping free, soft and breathy between moans. âOh, fuck,â your brows scrunching together in that way they always did when you were close. âCum deep, baby, I need it.â Another moan rolled through you as he thrust his cock so deep it kissed the end of you. âThatâs it. I want to carry it inside me, always. Fill me up until it takes, Joel.âÂ
Joel had frozen for a moment, his gaze locking on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. His cock twitched inside of you like he was somehow even harder than heâd ever been. Something primal flickered in his dark eyes, his jaw tightening before he let out a deep, guttural groan.Â
Whatever switch youâd flipped in him sent him spiraling into something wild, feral. Heâd pumped into you like it was his sole purpose, whispering filth and adoration in equal measure, his body relentless against yours until you couldnât tell where you ended and he began. A tangled vine of limbs.Â
Now, a couple of years into your marriage, that same insatiable energy has returned. But this time itâs real. Tangible. The decision to start trying for a baby had been an exciting one, but you hadnât anticipated how it would unleash a new, unstoppable side of your husband.
Joelâs been radiating pure, unadulterated want for weeks now. Itâs in the way he looks at you, like youâre the only thing that matters in the entire universe. Itâs in his hands, which canât seem to stay off you, whether heâs tugging you into his lap on the couch, pressing against you in the kitchen, or pulling you into the shower under the guise of saving water.
Youâre attempting to finish making dinner when you feel him behind you. His strong arms slide around your waist, his chest pressing firmly against your back. His hands find their way to your hips first, then drift upward, cupping your breasts as his thumbs tease over the sensitive peaks through the thin fabric of your shirt.
âSweetheart,â he drawls, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine. âHow am I sâposed to keep my hands off ya when you look like this?â
âJoel,â you protest weakly, though the way your breath catches betrays you. âIâm trying to cook.â
âDonât care,â he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. âNeed you, darlinâ. Right here, right now.â His hands trail lower, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your leggings, and youâre gone, dinner long forgotten as he husks into your ear about how heâs gotta keep you filled up. Spouting off nonsense like how he can hear your pussy begginâ for him, how sheâs feelinâ empty and needs him too.
And somehow, no matter how filthy and feral he gets for you, itâs endearing. Wrapped in love and yearning for the idea of a family. Of more to love.Â
The rest of your daysâand nightsâfollow the same pattern.Â
You find yourself pinned against the kitchen counter, bent over the couch, tangled in the sheets. Heâs unstoppable, each touch, kiss, and thrust carrying a purpose that leaves you trembling and breathless.
Even at work, heâs insatiable. A quick trip to his job site to drop off his lunch turns into a heated, stolen moment in the back of your car. His kisses are ravenous, his hands rough but loving as he pulls you into his lap, his gruff voice murmuring, âCanât wait, baby. Need you now.â
Every touch feels like a vow, every whispered word a promise. Joel loves you with his whole being, and now, with the thought of building a family together, that love has taken on an obsessive edge that leaves you dizzy and utterly devoted to him.
Late one night, as you lie together in the afterglow, his hand splayed possessively over your lower belly, he looks at you with those hearts in his eyes.
âThis time,â he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. âI feel it.âÂ
And you believe him.Â
click here for more of my writing
let me know if you liked this or if you'd like to be tagged for my writing
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lmfao!! đŤśđ¤đ
[900 words of fluff, smut, and breeding kink]
Daydreaming about...
Husband!Joel Miller and the first time it slipped from your lips.
You hadnât meant for it to happen.Â
It was a sultry summer evening, the kind where the air still clung to you even after the sun dipped below the horizon. Youâd both been a little buzzed, the walk home from the neighborhood block party filled with laughter and teasing touches.Â
Joel had barely managed to close the front door before his lips were on yours, his hands greedy and warm as they wandered under your sundress.
It had been the kind of night where everything felt heightenedâthe taste of his tongue against yours, the way his calloused palms felt against your skin, and how his every touch seemed to unravel you. Heâd taken you to bed with that intense, unfiltered adoration in his eyes, the kind that always left you weak in the knees.Â
He was almost too much, murmuring worshipful praises into your ear, and against every inch of your skin. He had that sparkle in his eyes that made you melt. Everything was a pleasant blur, the way your bodies fit together, your giggles as he nearly growled, trying to pull you closer.Â
The haze of his tender, overwhelming love, was more intoxicating than the warmth of the sun and the last hints of alcohol buzzing in your veins. He was pure devotion, attuned to every part of your body, every thought you might have, and coaxing you into a state of euphoria.Â
You didnât even realize you were talking, rambling softly between gasping breaths as he rocked into you, filling you to the brim until your eyes rolled back. But youâd been singing sweet praises right back to him.Â
âSo good,â you whispered. âJust like that, fuck.âÂ
And he did exactly as you said, hitting that perfect angle that had you floating away, lost in the bliss.Â
And then it happened.Â
Slipping free, soft and breathy between moans. âOh, fuck,â your brows scrunching together in that way they always did when you were close. âCum deep, baby, I need it.â Another moan rolled through you as he thrust his cock so deep it kissed the end of you. âThatâs it. I want to carry it inside me, always. Fill me up until it takes, Joel.âÂ
Joel had frozen for a moment, his gaze locking on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. His cock twitched inside of you like he was somehow even harder than heâd ever been. Something primal flickered in his dark eyes, his jaw tightening before he let out a deep, guttural groan.Â
Whatever switch youâd flipped in him sent him spiraling into something wild, feral. Heâd pumped into you like it was his sole purpose, whispering filth and adoration in equal measure, his body relentless against yours until you couldnât tell where you ended and he began. A tangled vine of limbs.Â
Now, a couple of years into your marriage, that same insatiable energy has returned. But this time itâs real. Tangible. The decision to start trying for a baby had been an exciting one, but you hadnât anticipated how it would unleash a new, unstoppable side of your husband.
Joelâs been radiating pure, unadulterated want for weeks now. Itâs in the way he looks at you, like youâre the only thing that matters in the entire universe. Itâs in his hands, which canât seem to stay off you, whether heâs tugging you into his lap on the couch, pressing against you in the kitchen, or pulling you into the shower under the guise of saving water.
Youâre attempting to finish making dinner when you feel him behind you. His strong arms slide around your waist, his chest pressing firmly against your back. His hands find their way to your hips first, then drift upward, cupping your breasts as his thumbs tease over the sensitive peaks through the thin fabric of your shirt.
âSweetheart,â he drawls, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine. âHow am I sâposed to keep my hands off ya when you look like this?â
âJoel,â you protest weakly, though the way your breath catches betrays you. âIâm trying to cook.â
âDonât care,â he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. âNeed you, darlinâ. Right here, right now.â His hands trail lower, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your leggings, and youâre gone, dinner long forgotten as he husks into your ear about how heâs gotta keep you filled up. Spouting off nonsense like how he can hear your pussy begginâ for him, how sheâs feelinâ empty and needs him too.
And somehow, no matter how filthy and feral he gets for you, itâs endearing. Wrapped in love and yearning for the idea of a family. Of more to love.Â
The rest of your daysâand nightsâfollow the same pattern.Â
You find yourself pinned against the kitchen counter, bent over the couch, tangled in the sheets. Heâs unstoppable, each touch, kiss, and thrust carrying a purpose that leaves you trembling and breathless.
Even at work, heâs insatiable. A quick trip to his job site to drop off his lunch turns into a heated, stolen moment in the back of your car. His kisses are ravenous, his hands rough but loving as he pulls you into his lap, his gruff voice murmuring, âCanât wait, baby. Need you now.â
Every touch feels like a vow, every whispered word a promise. Joel loves you with his whole being, and now, with the thought of building a family together, that love has taken on an obsessive edge that leaves you dizzy and utterly devoted to him.
Late one night, as you lie together in the afterglow, his hand splayed possessively over your lower belly, he looks at you with those hearts in his eyes.
âThis time,â he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. âI feel it.âÂ
And you believe him.Â
click here for more of my writing
let me know if you liked this or if you'd like to be tagged for my writing
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Part 2- Cave In
Series Masterlist | Part 1
Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.
content warnings: Reader (no descriptions besides having hair that can be pulled) is in a weird mindset; hears voices, talks to herself. non-con/dub-con (if you're looking for enthusiastic consent, ya wont find it here) smut, cock-warming, unprotected P in V, creampies, oral (m&f receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, pussy and peen pronouns, alcohol consumption (altered mental state). Joel wears a shock collar and other various horrible things that would keep him in check-- and he doesn't fucking like it.
Reader warning- flashbacks of readers graphic and sad past!!!
While it looks real pretty, this is a Dead Dove, Do Not Eat. If ya do and then come complaining to me that you ate a dead dove-- I'm gonna fight you. I warned you!

Joelâs mind drifts off to the days and nights he spent teaching Ellie how to play guitarâ watching her learn, grow more confident in the way she held the instrument. Then hearing her play her first song is one of his favorite memories. He wonders what her, Dina and JJ are doing right now.Â
He wonders if Tommy and Ellie are looking for himâ Joel canât imagine they wouldnât be. Not after what they did in Seattle a couple years ago. His daughter and his younger brother would come looking for him, and eventually theyâd find him- and rescue him.
The three of them- Joel right alongside them, would kill you in the process, heâd make sure of it.Â
Thatâs all he can think aboutâ being rescued and watching you die as you wrap a second layer of duct tape around the oven mitts on his hands.Â
As much as Joel hates you, he canât deny that youâre resourceful.Â
With the shock collar still around his neck, and now, two pairs of oven mitts secured to each of his fists, Joel watches you untie his arms from the chair.Â
He is stiff, and misses the fucking sun. Joel just wants to the feel the warmth on his face- but he canât really even think about that now, heâs thinking of all the ways heâs going to fucking knock you out the minute you crawl into his lap.Â
Heâll knock the shock collar remote out of your hand, headbutt youâ a real one, heâll go right for your nose and try and break itâ then he will wrap his big strong arms around you, and squeeze until he can feel your ribs snap.
Heâs got it all planned out- until he hears the sound of more duct tape ripping, and he wonders what part of him youâre going to tape next.Â
Joel watches in horror as you tape the remote to your palm, your thumb gingerly laid across the button that would shock Joel probably into next week. You wrap the tape until Joel can barely see the remote anymore.Â
Youâre more resourceful than he thought, and thatâs terrifying. Joel is almost sixty years oldâ heâs being outsmarted by some insane woman who lives in a mall in what now is the woods outside of Jackson.Â
How did you get here? Whereâs the rest of your group or community? Joel hasnât seen a single other person since he got here, and he hasnât seen or heard you interact or say you had to go meet up with anyone since heâs been here.Â
There is no way youâre surviving out here all on your own on peanut butter, raspberries and whiskey.Â
âLet me go,â his voice croaks. âCâmon. Yâdonât really wanna do this.â Heâs pleading. He hasnât fully begged yet, not patheticallyâ which is what you must want to hear. You wanna hear Joelâ the big strong man cry and whine and beg for you to let him go.Â
You drop the roll of tape on the floor beside your feet, âGot some rules yaâ gotta follow, Mister.â You ignore Joel, taking an inched step towards him. âNumber one is yaâ donât hit. You donât hitâ I donât zap ya'. Sound fair?" You don't wait for him to reply. "Good. Glad we're on the same page.â
Joel rolls his eyes and is immediately met with an intense muscle spasm throughout the entire right side of his face, and down his neck. It spreads out over his shoulder and through part of his chest.Â
It lasts for only a split second, but it leaves Joel panting, his brow already beaded in sweat from just that short electric shock.Â
âJesus fuckinâ Christâ donât fuckinâ--" he starts to warn you with a stern tone and narrow eyesâ but heâs greeted by your wet, stare only inches from his.Â
Your mouth opens and closes once, twice⌠three times before any sound comes out. âStop makinâ me hurt you,â you whine, one single tear falling from the corner of your eye. âI really donât like hurtinâ yaâ-- I donât wanna do it, so donât give me reason to, right?âÂ
Joel glares at you while deep down inside him somewhere his heart twists slightly.Â
Awww, look itâer cryinâ. Cute lil puppy, alone, out here in the woodsâ
Joel blinks twice as you crawl into his lap, your soft, warm body pressing against his tentatively, as if you were waiting for him to start fighting you off, to start screaming and shouting at you.Â
He wants to so badly, he wants to feel his forehead connect with the bridge of your nose as hard as it canâ but itâs like you hypnotized him when you curled up on his lap.Â
âNow yaâ wrap your arms âround me,â you breathe against Joelâs neck.Â
Joel fucking sighs at the feeling, almost wishing you press your lips to the spot directly behind his ear.
Go on, move your armsâŚ
Fuck no! Something is seriously wrong with him, he needs to talk to someone besides you. He knows youâre a bad person; a good person wouldnât do something like this.Â
Joel knows that if he puts his arms around you the way you want him to, he might start squeezing, and keep squeezing regardless of the pain from the electric shock. Heâd seize up and wouldnât be able to let you go, even if he wanted.
That might not be a bad thing though, either Joel would kill you, or you would kill him. It would solve his problem either wayâ and that was fine because he didnât want to keep living like this. He couldnât.
It would drive him fucking insane. He already feels like he is going insane the way he wants to kiss your neck, and suck on the spot where your collarbone ends, and your throat begins. Â
Câmon, fuckinâ do it. Yaâ know she wants it, give it to herâ make her fuckinâ beg for it firstâŚ
Oh fuck, Joel knows that is the unstable part of his brain talkingâ and he has to shut it out.Â
You are Joelâs attacker, his fucking captorâ the one keeping him from his family, the one he worked so fucking hard to get back. He might never see them again because of you. Heâs thinking of all the ways he could hurt youâto hurt you badly, he wants to see you deadâ but all those feelings of anger and hatred flee from his brain when you press the most soft, sweetest, barely-there kiss to his jaw.Â
âThank you,â you murmur, resting your head on his shoulder. The way you sigh and melt into Joel, molding to him, has his head spinning for a whole new reason, and heâs completely fucking sober this time.Â
See big feller, ainât that hard tâjust comply.
Joel realizes only then that he has both of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him, with his cheek resting on your head.Â
She ainât tâbad, right? Smells niceân sweet, like a pretty lady.
Itâs so hard to hate you and want you dead when your soft, sleepy breaths flits across the skin on his neck.Â
âI have more moviesââÂ
âAnything besides the princess movies- please,â Joel sighs, not removing his cheek from your head. âI canât do the princess movies again, anything elseâŚâ
âDo you like Batman?â The action of you lifting your head off his shoulder is the only reason he pulls away from you. âThe cartoons?âÂ
Joel snorts, and nods his head at you. âI doâ me ân Tomââ Joel stops himself from sharing too much with you for no reason whatsoever, his eyes dropping to your bare thighs.Â
It makes his mouth water when he looks at them, even though theyâre bruised to hell, with fresh cuts and old scars adorning your supple, and kissable looking skin.Â
He can feel you looking at him, waiting for him to finish what he was about to tell you. His eyes flash up to yours when you question him.Â
âWhoâs Tom? Whattaâbout him?âÂ
Joel can see your desperation in your face and eyesâthey're wide, still slightly wet with the tears from zapping him moments ago. You must want to know so badly, and he decides to use it to his advantage.Â
âGet me some meatâ anythingâ nâ Iâll tell yaâ.â Joel canât help but smirk to himself because this is going to work.Â
Your eyes light up, and you lean in real close- the tip of your nose pressed against his. âPromise?âÂ
Joel nods, his eyes locked on to yours, âPromise.âÂ
Giveâer a lil kiss.Â
Joel leans forward to do it, but you pull back with your brows furrowed and a scowl on your face.Â
âNo. Yaâ punched me last time yaâ did that.â You whisper at him, still frowning.Â
âSorry fâthat-â Joel starts but you donât let him finish.Â
Your head shakes from side to side quickly, eyes still wideâ untrusting, but desperate for something, heâs seen that look before so many times in so many different sets of eyes. After you scramble out of his lap, finding your footing on the floor beside the chair, you look down at him, still frowning.Â
âSorry donât mean nothinâ- not out here it donât.â
Sâokay, Sug. Youâll be fineâ Mister-manâs gonna be real thankful.Â
âWell he fuckinâ better! I hate gettinâ shot at, I hate havinâ tâfuckin run real fast- I hate that the place is almost three fuckinâ hours awaââ Your eyes fall onto the horizon where the sun is starting to rise just over the mountains in the distance. âAinât even get any fuckinâ sleepââ
Oh Sug, itâll be worth it, heâs gonâ tell youâ
Lies. Heâs going to tell you lies, and for what!? You almost got shotâ
âI know I almost got shotâ You donât think that I know I almost got shot!?â Youâre nearly shouting in the woods. âNow both of yous be fuckinâ quietâ mâtired, and I twisted my fuckinâ ankleââ
And itâs the truth, you did twist your ankle when crossing the stream about a mile back, and thankfully the raiders had stopped following you a while ago, but with all the adrenaline it was easy to keep running. That was, until you slipped on those stupid fucking rocks.
It takes you thirty more minutes to get home, and by the time you do everything hurts, and you just want to go to sleep. Your ankle throbs with every tender step you take.
Taking a deep breath, you plaster on a smile and push open the door. "Honey, I'm home," you call out in a sing-song voice, trying to mask all your exhaustion and this fucking pain that wonât quit.
Misterâs already watching for you as you make your way slowly down the stairs. His eyes narrow as his eyes mill across your frame.
You don't look great. Disheveled, torn clothes, scrapes on your hands and knees from when you fell.
"What happened tâya?"
Oh heâs worried âboutchya! Let him help you, honey.
You wave off his question with a limp hand. "Never mind me,â you toss your backpack on the table, the bottles of whiskey clank around inside noisily as you sit down in the metal chair beside Joelâs recliner. âGotchâyer meat you wanted to fuckinâ bad.â You say, rolling your eyes.
Mister-man looks you up and down. "Y'look like hell," he says, his eyes tracing over the scratches on your arms and legs.
You ignore his words and his wandering eyes and open up your backpack. âI got jerky,â you pull out two large containers of dried meat and set them on the table. â-got bread ân more peanut butterâ they had jam this time.â
âWho is âtheyâ?â Joel asks, his eyes never leaving you even as his arms and wrists begin to twist gently under the restraints.
Embarrassment floods you, it takes over everything that you are, just like it did when you told him you had been watching him for a while. You know what you did was bad, and you shouldn't be stealing or killing-- but you're only doing it for him!
You look at him, with a hollow feeling in your chest that you can't quite place. "Theyâs just... people," you say quietly. "They don't matter none."
Joel tilts his head, studying you so intently that makes you want to squirm. "Yaâ hurtinâ?" he asks, voice rough like sandpaper grating your ear canal.
âWho is Tom?â You avoid all questions about you, and any issues you have because why burden Mister-man? You're not his problem, you want to give him a worry, burden free life here in the mall with you and Puddin'.
Mister watches you very carefully as you pull a slice of jerky out of the container, heâs practically drooling when you place it as his lips. He groans as he begins to chew, and immediately takes another bite before heâs even swallowed the first.
He doesnât answerâ not even after the entire piece of jerky is gone, so you withhold the next piece.
âWho. Is. Tom?â You shift closer to him and wince when your ankle brushes against the leg of the chair.
"Tom... Tommy is my brother." His voice⌠there's something almost tender in his tone when he says his brother's name.
It feels like someone it clenching your heart in their fist, and theyâre fucking squeezing.
"You're my fucking sister!" His voice is so hoarse, raw and desperate. It doesn't even sound like him anymore. "Don'tâ please, don't fucking do it, I'm sorry-" "You told me sorrys don't mean nothing anymoreâ not out here they don't!" You shout back at him, the gun in your hand trembles right along with the rest of your body. "You were supposed to t-take c-care of me! You p-promised mom and dad," you sob, your thumb pulls the hammer of the revolver back and your index finger squeezes the trigger. "Hey, HEY!" He holds both of his hands up, a weak attempt to shield himself from whatever is about to happen. Shoot him, kid. He deserves it after what he put you through. He let those guysâ The gun just goes off, you don't even feel yourself pull the trigger. All you see is a fine, red mist explodes from his forehead and the back of his skullâ and then everything is quiet, everything is calm. Good job, Sugar. I'm so fucking proud of you.
That was the first time you ever heard the light voice, the sweet voice that says nice things to you.
And m'gonna be here for ya' forever, Sug.
âI know,â you sigh.
Mister blinks at you, âYou know Tommy?â
You blink back at him, âNo?â
The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy like the evening air at the end of the summer. Joel watches you, his eyes darting between your face and the jerky still in your hand. âOkayâŚâ
âDid Tommy like Batman?â If Tommy likes or liked Batman or anything about that universe at all, heâs an okay guy in your book.
âHe likes Superman,â Joel chuckles when he delivers the news. âIâm the one who likes Batman.â
You audibly gasp, âYou like the comics and the cartoons?â
Joel's lips twitch at the corners, almost forming what looks like a smile. "Used to read 'em with Tommy when we was kids. " His eyes fill with sadness.
You lean forward, tilting your head to the side in curiosity. "Whyâre yâsad?" you whisper, the pain in your ankle momentarily forgotten.
"I ainât sad," Mister-man is gruff. "Tommy and I used to collect comics, argued about who was cooler. Obviously Batman, 'cause he ain't got no superpowers. Just pure skill. Tommy thought Superman was better."
âBoth of âem suckâ I just like Harley Quinn,â you nod.
You were going to say more but the very faint sound of clicking ticks in your ears. Itâs far enough away that you can get upstairs and drop the metal gate that locks the store up nice and tight.
Itâs never fun, and you donât like having to do itâ but thankfully you just made a haul, so youâll be good for a couple day.
You just hope Puddinâ is okay. Ya' saw him yesterday, but he didn't sleep in the big bed with ya' like he normally would.
âHarââ Mister-man starts, oblivious to the terrors that are lurking just above your head.
âShhhhhh,â you hold your finger up to your mouth and furrow your eyebrows at him. âStay quiet ân Iâll give yaâ some more jerky, okay?â You whisper almost silently.
He nods and stays quiet because he knows how scary those fucking things are, and he probably doesnât want to be tied to a chair if one every came around.
Standing up feels like a pack of sparklersâ like the ones they used to have at the 4th of July parties when you were a kid, before all thisâ it feels like those, popping and sizzling up your leg. You have to bite back a moan as your body leans against the table for support. The table skids across the floor noisily as you hold yourself up on it and it makes your blood run cold.
You have to get up those stairs and drop that gate, Sug. Mister is countinâ on youâŚ
Itâs like time freezes and all you can picture is poor Mister getting torn apart.
You hesitate listening intently. The clicking grows louder, a sickening, bone-chilling sound that echoes through the abandoned mall. Your twisted ankle throbs, but adrenaline starts pumping through your veins.
âGotta move, sweetheart.â He must have heard the clicking this time too. Joelâs whispering voice is even and calm even though your chest feels like it could cave in on itself, your ribs feel like they could explode inward towards your lungs like sending shattered bone fragments hurdling towards your delicate, soft insides. âYâcan do it. I know it hurtsââ
The metal gate. Everything around you goes silent, and the only thing you can hear is the sound the gate makes when it closes and locks into the floor. You have to get to the metal gate.
You clutch the railing with a white knuckle grip and pull yourself up the stairs two at a time, biting almost completely through your bottom lip, grunting with each painful step.
The clicking is clearer, and closer now that youâre on the same level as the infected, and you can tell there is more than one, and theyâre moving fast.
âShit, shit, shit, shit, shit,â you hiss as you limp towards the entrance of the store.
As you reach it, you can see the seven infected closing in fast. Your sweet, sweet Puddinâ is hauling ass towards youâ the infected right on his little, scaly tail.
âCâmon Pud,â you whine, dropping the gate down for just enough room for him to run through, and possibly let one of the infected in if you werenât quick enough closing it behind him.. âCâmon Puddinâ!â
Itâs like your words spur him on and his little legs kick into overdrive. He slips under the metal gate just as the infected slam into it, throwing you off your balance. Youâre thrown back at least three feet, and watch in horror as the gate starts to rise on its own.
Move kiddo, come on! Get your ass up and fucking shut that gate!
Your body screams in protest as you scramble across the floor, your twisted ankle sending sharp bolts of pain through your leg.
Puddin' is playing dead right behind you, but you don't have time to think about him right now. He's safe and inside, that's all that matters. The gate keeps rising, inch by torturous inch, and the infected are pushing against it with stupid inhuman strength!
"No, no, no," you mutter, pushing through the pain. The clicking grows louder, more frenzied, as the first infected begins to squeeze its misshapen head underneath the rising gate.
Pulling the knife from your belt in one hand, you bring it down into the skull of the infected trying to slip through, and with the other, your fingers grapple for a hold on the handle of the metal grate.
The infected skull cracks open with a sickeningly wet crunch, dark blood and gray matter splattering across the floor.
Your hand finally grips the smooth metal tightly, even though now your palm is nearly dripping with sweat, and with a grunt that feels like it's being stolen right out of your lungs, you pull down with all the strength you have left inside of you.
The gate comes down with a crash that echoes throughout the mall, the infected on the other side of the gate screech and squeal loudly. Some of them stick their arms through the slots, and their skin peels back like overripe fruit, claws scraping desperately for any piece of you they can reach.
You don't even want to think about how grotesque they are, you flip the lock that secures the gate to the floor as their fingers grapple and scratch deep into your skin. It clicks into place and you finally exhale, not realizing you had been holding your breath.
So fuckinâ proud of you, Sug. Knew you could do it.
The shrieking cries of the infected fill the otherwise silent mall and the confined space youâre now trapped in. You can't help but glance back toward Puddin'âthe little white and gray furball who is still playing dead.
âSâokay, weâre safe,â you sigh, letting yourself rest on your elbows and then on your back completely. You stare at the ceiling, and wonder how long the infected will stick around.
The sounds coming from right above Joel has his heart racing, and heâs trying to free himself from his restraints harder and more desperate than ever before.
With a roar of determination, uncaring of the dangers above him, he jerks one arm up and then down. Itâs not enough; he can still feel them biting into his skin painfully, creating new rope burns.
âCâmon, câmon!â he grunts as time stretches into an eternity. The picture of you being shredded by gnawing and gnashing teeth makes his stomach churn.
Just as that thought creeps in, he hears a metallic rattling, but the wailing of the infected are still clear as day.
The clang of metal echoes again, and for a moment, he thinks maybe you did it. Maybe youâve locked them out. Maybe you just signed yours and his death certificates and locked some of them in the store.
He tries to twist his wrists again, then again, but each movement sends sharp, stinging pain surging up his forearms. âFuck!â He exclaims loudly.
Sheâs up there, fightinâ them off all aloneâ
"I know, dammit.â His jaw is tense and he focuses all of his energy on trying to loosen the ropes enough, or rub them against the metal fame to fray it enough so he can snap them. The strain builds in his muscles, and he can feel the ropes biting deeper, but he canât stopâ the feeling inside him brings him right back to the hospital in Salt Lake when he was looking for Ellie.
He thought he had felt helpless then, he thought he had felt helpless when that girl and her group of friends had trapped him and Tommy in that cabinâ but now he knows the true definition of despair. Tied to a chair, listening to you getting torn apart right above him, and then heâll have to watch those infected come to tear his throat out.
The door to the basement opens slowly, and Joelâs heart almost stops beating completely. Bile rises in his throat at the uneven steps that start down the wooden steps. Itâs a slow, clumsy sound accompanied by grunts and pained whimpers.
When your boots come into his line of sight, he exhales loudly. The sight of you, safe and still breathing sends a warmth through Joelâs spine that spreads into the rest of his body and heâs not sure why.
Awe shit, sheâs hurtinâ real bad.
Joel fucking knows, he can see it with his own two eyes. Youâre limping, worse than you were went you bolted upstairs and now youâre covered in fresh wounds, and blood trickles down your left forearm, wrist and fingertips, leaving little droplets in your wake. Your cradling something dead and furry in your right arm.
âYaâ get bit?â Joelâs skin prickles as he asks, trying to get a better look at your arm, straining to see in the dim light.
âNaw,â you grunt at him, sitting in the chair you had been sitting in before you had run upstairs. âJust got scratched.â
Joel eyes you, unsure if he can believe you while you extend your left arm and show him the deep gouging scratches carved into your flesh. âSâbad,â Joel murmurs as you press your arm against your dirty jeans. He flinches at the sight, and turns his arms under the ropes.
Whatâchya wanna do? Hit her or help her?
Both? Joel synchronously wants to do both. He wants to lay you down on the mattress across the room and tend to your wounds. He wants to wash the blood of your skin, and wrap you upâ watch your eyes glisten and sparkle as he cares for you. And then Joel would beat your face bloody, and bludgeon your chest in until it caved.
âMâfine,â you offer weakly. âAinât the worst thatâs ever happened tâme.â
Somewhere deep inside of Joel twists painfully when the inflection in your tone tells him you think thatâs true.
âHowâs your ankle?â Joel doesnât bother looking, he knows itâs bad by the way you limped down the stairs.
âSaid mâfine,â you grumble, setting the dead animal down on the table very gently next to the shock collar remote.
âWhatâs that? Fresh meat finallyââ
Joel doesnât even see it coming, your hand moves so fast and the next thing he knows he is being zapped into silence.
âAinât fuckinâ fresh meat- you donât ever speak about Puddinâ that way, yaâ hear me?â You zap Joel the entire time youâre speaking, and he can barely hear you over the screaming between his ears. Itâs deafening and blinding, and making him feel fucking stupid.
âFine fine.â Joel grits out through a jaw clenched so tight he might actually break his teeth.
You flick the remote off and toss it on the table as if itâs too hot to touch any longer. The buzzing in Joel's ears fades slightly, leaving only the thudding of his heart and the rasp of his breathing.
âI fuckinâ hate hurtinâ you,â you sob softly, wrapping your arms around what appears to be an opossum. You pull it closer to you, and nuzzle your face against his fur.
Joel recoils at the sight, but watches as the dead animal comes to life, and gives your cheek a gentle lick. âThatâs your pet?â He asks, disbelief dripping off his tongue.
You donât look at him, or even really acknowledge that you heard himâ you just continue to snuggle the animal and cry quietly.
Joel doesnât really know what to do, he wants to comfort you in a weird way, but he still wants to see you dead? But the thought you dying also scares him a little?
Itâs âcause you wanna be the one snuggled up next tâher. Jealous of an opossumâ
No the fuck he doesnât! Joel does not want to snuggle up to you, he doesnât want to feel your warm body pressed against hisâ
Even though sheâd fit perfect right next to yaâ. Picture it, yaâ gotâchya arms âround her ân you got your legs all wrapped in hersâŚ
The sight of you, vulnerable and fragile with that small, stupid animal, tugs at his heart in ways he hasnât experienced in years. He shakes his head violently, as if he could actually dislodge the thoughts spinning in his mind. âYouâre fuckin' crazy,â he mutters to himself under his breath.
Your chair scrapes across the floor as you turn quickly to the right so you can face him. Your jaw ticks and one of your eyes twitch. âI ainât fuckinâ crazyâ stop sayinâ that.â You whisper to him. âWhy yaâ beinâ so mean? I jusâ saved your lifeâŚâ Your face twists up like you might start crying again, and your eyes now are still wet with the tears you had been crying moments ago.
âSaved my life?â Joel scoffs through clenched teeth, the remnants of your electric assault still tingling faintly in his fingers and toes. âThatâs what yâthink you did for me?â He can feel his resolve faltering as the fat, wet tears begin to roll down your cheek, but he forces himself to stay angry. It feels saferâ it feels better that way. âMore like puttinâ me through hell, darlinâ.â
He doesnât even mean for the word darlinâ to come out of his mouth, he wasnât even thinking it, at leastâ he doesnât remember wanting to cal you darlinâ.
But the moment it slips out, he watches your expression change. You wipe at the tears staining your cheeks, smearing dirt and blood across your face. A flicker of something warm and soft ignites in your eyes, like sunlight breaking through dark clouds. âDarlinââŚâ you echo him, a fractured smile threatening to bloom despite the pain etched across your features.
Joelâs heart sinks, and also bursts with pride all at the same time. You are in fact insane, but he made you stop crying.
Lookâit that, sheâs almost smilinâ now.
That warmth spreads through him again, against his willâagainst all logical reason. âI didnât mean it,â he mutters, not really sure if he did mean it or not. Yet the sight of you still clinging to that opossum, caressing him carefully as he nibbles gently on one of your fingers. The sight draws him in deeper than he would like to admit, but he just wants to clean you up, wrap you in bandages and then let you fall asleep on his lap.
âDidnât⌠mean it?â You repeat the words like you donât understand them, and your smile falters just a bit as you study his face, searching for truth. âLiar,â you smirk at him.
There is a warmth in your crazy eyes that makes Joel want to sink as far into the chair as he possibly can, he wishes he could disappear but he doesnât. He says, watching you like heâs frozen in place. âNah, sâjust the shock talkinâ,â he whispers and nods his head to one side like there would be a video replaying the who ordeal that happened only moments ago. He wishes there was so he could watch it happen over and over, so he could build up the walls around him, keep you the fuck out of his head.
âYeahâŚâ There is a distance to your tone, like youâre not really there anymore, and you drop your gaze to the opossum nestled in your arms. âYaâ made me do that though,â you whisper, eyes flicking up to him quicklyâ theyâre darker, a little scary and Joel wishes he could hide inside his own skin.
âMade you?â Joelâs voice rises, anger flaring throughout him like a wildfire in a forest of dead, dry trees. It spreads fast before Joel can control himself.âYâthink I made you do that? You are a crazy fuckinâ bitââ
You zap him again with a jolt that sends white hot sparks crawling up his spine, and sucks the air right out of his lungs.
âShut up, shut up, shut up!â you scream and clutch the opossum tighter.
Joel watches as it goes back to playing dead in your arms. Heâs about to shout back at you, start a screaming war and hope those infected break through that gate upstairs and kill both of youâ but then you whisper something quietly, and Joel almost doesnât catch it.
âIâm not gunna fuckinâ do that, stop tellinâ me tâkill him.â
Joelâs blood runs cold like ice⌠who the fuck are you talking to? Or about?
âAre you still hungry?â Your voice is soft, almost sweet now. âI can get you more jerky⌠I got lots of whiskeyââ you say, the fierce anger from moments ago melting away, replaced by a manic eagerness to please him. You reach for your bag again, your arm still bleeding badlyâ but youâre unfazed by it, or at least doing a good job pretending it doesnât bother you.
You pull out a glass jar.
âAre those coffee beans?â Joel can barely believe his eyes. His mouth starts to salivate immediately.
You wrinkle your nose at him and shrug your shoulders. âDunnoâ they look like some kinda beanâ smell all burnt up to shit though,â your nose stays scrunched up as you begin digging around in your bag again.
âLemme smell,â he can barely contain his excitement as he watches you unscrew the lid to the mason jar. There is a hesitation in your movements when you go to hold the jar under his nose, like youâre trying to figure out his game, the trap heâs set. Your eyes scan all around him, face and body unmoving. âI jusâ wanna smell itâ Iâll tell you if itâs coffee or not,â heâs as close to begging for something as heâs ever gotten.
âYou like coffee?â You sound so curious, and gingerly place the mouth of the jar under his nose. He takes in a deep inhale and the wonderful, deep and rich aroma of coffee fills his nostrils.
Joel groans loudly, and for a long time as the scent permeates his sinuses, he can almost taste it on his tongue for a fleeting moment.
âTake that as a yes,â you giggle and let him breathe in the smell a little longer. âHow do I make it for yaâ?â You ask, pulling the jar away and screwing the lid on tight.
âGotta grind those beans up real fineâ then let it brew in some hot water.â Joel explains, watching as you dig around in your bag for more of your loot. "They make special pots for itâ percolators."
"Percolators?" You parrot him, tilting your head to one sideâ
Cute lil puppy.
You fucking are, Joel hates to admit it to himself but even all covered in blood, and muckâ looking like you've been to hell and clawed your way back out by the skin of your teethâ your eyes are bright and alert, watching him intently.
"Yeah, keeps the coffee grounds out of your waterâ" he starts, but you cut him off.
"So you put those crushed up beans⌠in the water⌠to just not want them in the water at the end of it all?" You hold up the coffee beans and look at them incredulously, your eyes squinted and narrowed on the glass jar with one eyebrow cocked up slightly.
Joel can't stop the corners of his mouth from turning up at your expression, your face still dirty and tear stained. "Never had coffee before?"
You shake your head at him, and continue rifling through your bag.
The opossum on the table comes alive again now that you're calm and quiet, he pops his little head up and this is when Joel notices the small teal and pink collar around his furry neck. As you pull the rest of the things out of your pack, the little critter starts to lick and clean your wounds.
It makes Joel grimace at the sight of the wild animal trying to help you, take care of you, but againâ it tugs at a place inside of him he hasn't dared venture in years.
You're in the small bathroom just off the main room cleaning up in the sink you filled with water from a jug you brought down yesterday. âYaâ wanna sleep on the bed tânight?â You nod to the mattress pushed up against the wall across the room.
What the fuck?
Mister-man looks just as shocked as the dark voice in your head sounds. âYaâ gonâ let me sleep comfortably- take these fuckinâ ropes off me?â His voice is bitter and bites at you, makes you furrow your brows at him.
Sug, heâs been tied up for a while nowâ
For good fucking reason, heâs going to kill her the minute she unties him.
Heâs got the dang collar on now, heâs gonna listen to her.
What happens when she falls asleep? Huh? Sheâs been up going on almost eighteen hoursâ
How dâya know how many hours itâs been? She donât have a watch or a clock!! You donât know what the fuck youâre talkinâ âbout.
Sheâs going to fall asleep and the minute she doesâ heâs going to strangle her.
The image of Mister-man with his hands around your throat makes you do two thingsâ it makes your stomach flip, and it makes your cunt clench.
What the fuck was that?
She likes the idea of Mister-man chokinâ her a lil, dontâchya Sugar?
The heat rises from your chest and up your neck, behind your cheeks. You kinda do want Mister to choke you a little, but not with the intention to kill you!
âWhatâre you fuckinâ smirkinâ âbout over there?â Mister snaps at you.
When you look at yourself in the mirror, you are smirking and just standing in front of the sink frozen in place. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the images of Misterâs big, strong hands around your neck. âNothinâ,â you lie to him, which makes you feel badâ but you canât tell him thatâs what you were thinking about.
Tell him, see what he saysâŚ
Will you shut the fuck upâ
âI figure you can sleep there ân Iâll sleep in the chair tânightâ still gonâ have to tie you up, but least you can lay downâŚâ
Thatâs not really what you want. You want his arms wrapped around you, and your legs all messed up in his. You wanna feel his warm breath on the top of your head because thatâs gotta be the best way to fall asleep, feeling someone elseâs warm body, feeling their heart beating inside their chest.
Letâs yaâ know theyâre really there- ainât a dream or something youâre imagininâ.
âWhy the hell dâya want me all comfy fâanyway, huh?â he asks, suspicion laced in his tone, but a hint of curiosity glimmers behind his dark brown eyes.
You shake your head and go back to cleaning your arm so you can bandage it. âNo, Iâm jusâ tryinâ tâbe nice. Figurâd you could stretch out if yaâ wanted.â
He watches you, that suspicion still etched into the lines of his face, but the curiosity is unmistakable, swelling in the way his brow furrows deeper and his lips twist just slightly. âWhy yaâ tryinâ to be nice?â
âI dunno⌠donât want you hatinâ me no moreââ
Stop it right now! Shut the fucking door and stop talking to him.
âWhy would I ever stop hatin' you?â His voice is low, almost a whisper. Mister-man hones in his gaze on you like a hawk. âYou think beinâ nice tâme is gonna make me forget that yaâ tied me up down here?â
You shrug lightly as you wrap a bandage around your arm, feeling the warmth of blood already seeping through the fabric.
Donât listen to him, Sugar. He donât mean it.
Sounds like he fuckinâ means it.
âIâm not trying to hurt you,â you say softly, finally meeting his stare head-on. âI just wanna feel normal againâŚâ
Shut. The. Fuck. Up.
Yeah Sug, keep that to yaâself.
You feel ashamed, real shame, uncomfortable for sharing too much, and now the voices are agreeing with each other? Thatâs never a good sign. Youâve done something wrong.
âNormal?â He chuckles, but it feels malicious. âAinât nothinâ fuckinâ normal about this, sweetheart.â
âStop sayinâ that if you donât fuckinâ mean it!â
His laughter dies down, leaving an awkward silence between you. The room feels smaller, somehow and it feels like Mister-man is right on top of you with judging eyes. âI do mean it,â he replies, softer now but still sharp and angry. âYâthink itâs normal tâbe tied up in the basement by someââ
âSome what?â You interrupt him as the anger rises to meet the shame and hold its hand.
Mister stares at you, face unchanging when he speaks. âSome. Crazy. Fuckinâ. Bitch.â He enunciates every word. âWhat is this? Some fuckinâ fairy tale to you? One of your stupid princess movies, huh?â
âTheyâre not stupid,â you snap back, your voice rising in defiance. âAnd Iâm not crazy. I justâŚâ
âJust what?â he presses, his tone challenging. âWhat do you want from me?â
Donât fucking say it.
âI jusâ want yaâ tâlike me,â you whisper- feeling small and insignificant. âWant yaâ tânot hurt me again,â you point to your still slightly blackened eye.
His studies you like youâre a problem that he canât solveâ the muscles in his jaw flex, and he pinches his brow together tightly. âYaâ want me tâlike you?â He echoes softly, he says the words like they might unleash an evil into the room.
You nod, feeling like youâre frozen and on fire all at the same time, it makes your stomach churn like you might be sick. The way heâs staring at you make you feel naked and exposed.
âWhy?â he asks suddenly, breaking through the silence and makes you flinch.
âYouâre handsome,â you let the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them.
He shifts in the chair like you made him uncomfortable, confusion weaving its way into the creases of his hardened and in fact, beautiful face.
âHandsome?â he repeats the word like it's a foreign language, like itâs something he hasnât heard in ages.
âI sure think so,â you nod again.
Your face is so hot it feels like itâs being held to flames.
Well, this is the most youâve talked to anyone in a real long time, Sug⌠itâll get easier.
You could just stop talking completely and go to sleep. Youâre delirious.
No she ainât. Mister-man is handsome, and she wantâs him inside her again real bad.
Your walls clench around absolutely nothing at the thought of his thick, throbbing length plunging inside of you, stretching you to fit around him perfectly. The idea of it happening again makes you dizzy and you canât help but bite your lip, your face somehow grows hotter than you thought possible.
The look Mister gives you- the half smirk, one raised eyebrow makes you think he can read your mind.âHandsome,â he snorts softly, eyes never leaving you, but now they trail down the curves of your body. âYou trynna âsit in my lapâ again, sweetheart?â The words come out of his mouth slow like molasses, and that country twang he has sends a shock right to your core.
âMaybe,â you say, voice trembling slightly but unwavering, âmaybe if you wanted to, I would.â
His face softens slightly, the anger and suspicion melting away like snow in the sun. He raises an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. "Why would I want that, honey?" he asks, his voice teasing slightly.
âYou seemed to want it the other night,â you limp out of the bathroom and sit down in the metal chair beside his recliner.
âI was real drunk,â Mister explains, but his demeanor has changed, he looks relaxed, heâs resting his head on the back of the chair, looking at you through hooded eyes. âYaâ took advantage of me,â he growls softly, but beckons you over with a nod of his head.
âYaâ told me tâdo itâŚâ you snap. âI ainât take nothinâ. Advantage- I ainât-- what? You asked me tâdo it!â
He sure fuckinâ did ask you! How dare he say that bullshit assâ
I hate to admit it, but⌠heâs rightâ
The last thing you ever wanted to do was take something from Mister-man that he didnât want you to take! Itâs the worst feeling in the world- being held down and forced intoâ
Shhhhh, Sugar. Itâs alright, sâall over now. It was just a misunderstanding.
âI ainât m-mean tâdo that,â you say weakly through the lump forming in your throat. âI thought yaâ wanted me tâdo itâ thatâs why yaâ punched me?â
His eyes widen slightly, âI didnât punch yaâ for that.â
"Then why did yaâ punch me?" Your voice cracks slightly as tears begin welling up in your eyes again; embarrassment filling every cell within your body once more.
âI was gonna tryân leave. Go homeââ
âYaâ lied tâme⌠said youâd stay,â you whimper, wiping the tears before they can fall.
âPlease stop cryinââŚâ Mister-man's voice is surprisingly gentle as he speaks, and you feel your heart squeeze in response.
You sniffle, trying to regain your composure. "I wouldnât have done it if you didnât ask me first," you mumble, wiping your nose on the back of your sleeve.
"Why not?" Joel asks softly.Â
Look'it that, ya went'n made her cry! For what!? She's just trynna be nice t'ya! Jus' like she said. She wants a lil boyfriend, someone t'snuggle up with at night-- like a normal person!
There isn't anything fucking normal about you, not at all.Â
âI ainât like stuff gettinâ taken from me,â you admit quietly, turning your gaze away from him.
Joel narrowed his eyes, sitting up a bit straighter in his recliner, the leather creaking underneath his weight. "Whatâya mean by that?"
âLets get ready for bed, âkay?â You ignore his question and stand up, wincing when you put any weight on your ankle. You hold the remote in your mouth gingerly as you begin untying him from the chair.
****
Joel watches you from the mattress in the corner. You have his hands still bound up in the oven mitts, and now youâve tossed a rope over a pipe in the ceiling and tied up his elbows so he can move and lay down. Stretch out if he wants to, but he canât walk more than five or six feet in either directionâ and the pipes secured tighter than he had been hoping it would be.
Joel can hear you reading the Batman comic books to yourself and that opossum you keep calling Puddinâ, but you havenât looked or spoken to him since you tied him up an hour or so ago. Just left him with two things: a plastic bottle of water and metal flask with whiskey in it. He was silently thankful when you twisted the lids off without him having to ask.
He knows struck a nerve with his question, but he didnât really expect you to shut him out completely. He takes a swig from the plastic water bottle.
Yaâ want that sad lil puppy tâcome over here, dontâchya?â
He does, oddly enough. You being crazy was better than you giving him the cold shoulder, like he wasn't even there.
He wonders if you read to that stupid animal every night, and if you snuggle with him in the bed you sleep in upstairs. He wonders if you have to drink yourself to sleep every night with how many bottles of whiskey you brought back.
His mind just continues to race.
****
Joel canât sleep. He thought for sure the minute he put his head down, heâd drift off and sleep better than he has since you tied him up down here, heâs got a blanket and a pillow now but they do nothing to comfort him into closing his eyes.
Call her over, see if sheâll come snuggle up next to you.
âHey,â Joel whispers into the completely dark room.
âWhat?â You whisper back to him from the void.
âCâmereâ it ainât fair yaâ gotta sleep in that chair. I know sâuncomfortable.â What the fuck is he doing? Heâs not going to willingly allow you into his space, is he?
âMâfine,â you murmur back to him. âGo tâsleep.â
âCanât sleepâ come sit in my lap again,â Joel smirks to himself because fuck, what he would do to feel your warm cunt enveloping him like you were made strictly for him, and him alone. It makes his cock twitch just thinking about it.
Joel holds his breath, waiting for you to respond. Then, finally, you murmur back, your voice barely more than a whisper, âWhy would I do that?â
ââCause Iâm handsomeâŚâ Joel teases you, listening to the way the chair creaks as you shift on it. He wishes so badly he could see you. âI know yaâ wanna feel good, I wanna feel good too.â
âYâjust wanna punch me again, tryân escapeââ
âWhere would I go? Them infected are still up there, I ainât gettinâ outta here anytime soon,â heâs being honest. He had thought about it, but the idea of having to share a room with your dead bodyâ even if he moved you upstairs, the idea of having to wait around with your corpse until the infected cleared out gave him a bad feeling.
Itâs âcause you donât wanna kill âer. Yaâ wanna be deep inside that tight, wet, warm perfect hole.
âFuck,â Joel mutters under his breath. His cockâs fully hard now, and itâs making a tent in the black sweatpants you put on him before bed. He rubs the oven mitt on his hand against the bulge in the fabric and groans loudly.
âWhatâre you doinâ?â You ask from your place in the chair.
âCome find out, sweetheart.â He sighs, leaning against the wall the mattress is pressed up against.
Joel listens to you limp and shuffle towards him in the dark. Your hands hesitantly touch his shins before you crawl onto the bed with him.
âTake âem out fâme, baby girl,â he leans into you now that youâre sitting next to him, pushing his nose into your hair. He inhales deeply and takes in the heady scent of your sweat lingering whatever fucking pheromones that are making him just as insane as you.
âYaâ really want this?â
Joel wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you as close as he can get. âMâsober this time,â he moan quietly into your ear when you push his mitt covered hand, away and slip your hand underneath the waistband. He bucks his hips up into your fist as you begin to stoke him.
âYouâre sâwarm,â you sigh, turning your head to face him.
Joel wastes no time catching your lips in a kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth to taste you, savor your flavor. You taste like whiskey and strawberry jam. The smell of cheap bathroom hand soap lingers on your skin from washing up in the sink. All of it makes him feel like hes intoxicated.
âFuck, yâfeel so good,â he growls into your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip gently as you pull away. âTake these fuckinâ mitts off meââ
Your hand leaves his pants and the warmth of your body is gone from beside him. âItâs a trick?â You sound hurt in the dark, like Joelâs played some terrible prank on you and you just found out.
âNo, no, no-â heâs desperate for your touch. It felt so good, and he wasnât even thinking about trying to trick you or do anything shifty once you took the mitts off, he wanted to grip you and grope you. Plunge two or three fingers right into your wetness. âNo, mânot trynna trick youâ I just wanna touch you.â
âSâwhat you said last time,â you snap at him. He can tell youâre still close, probably still on the mattress. He shifts and tries to get closer to you but he hears your skin drag across the concrete floor.
âShit,â Joel grumbles. âI know, fuckâ I know, but I mean it this time-â
âI donât believe you.â
Of course you donât believe him! He socked you right in the eye as hard as he could the last time he didnât have at least 4 inches of padding on his fists.
âI wanna make yâfeel real good, the way yâwere makinâ me feel real good just then,â heâs inching towards the sound of you dragging yourself across the floor on his hands and knees slowly. The ropes stop him from going any further while you continue your retreat. âCâmon, babyâŚâ
âYâjust sayinâ that, donât mean itâŚâ The sound of your body shuffling away from him stops though, and he wonders if heâs got you on the hook with the pet names.
Try it again, Mister.
âPlease, honey⌠I wanna hear yâmoan Misterâs name,â he coos to you, hiding from him somewhere in the darkness.
You let out a long, slow, shaky breath before you answer. âWhat is your nameâŚâ
Heâs so fucking desperate for some sort of relief that he tells you before he can come up with a fake nameâ heâs learned the hard way about sharing his real name with strange women. âJoel.â
âJoelâŚâ You whisper back to him. âMy very own Mister-J?â You sound excited.
âMister-J?â Joel cocks his head to one side, but is pushed back onto the mattress by the force of you barreling into him.
âThatâs what Harley calls the Joker,â your straddling his waste again and without thinking twice, Joel wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him. His forearms brush against the bare skin of your thighs and it makes him groan softly as he pushes you down into his lap.
âYa' wanna be m'crazy girl? Like Harley Quinn?â Joel chuckles as he nudges his nose against your chin, tilting your head back to expose your neck.
You hesitate, and pull back from him slightly.
âI ainât gonâ bite you,â he promises, leaning in as much as he can so he can press his lips to the column of your throat.
âFuck,â you breathe out, sinking into him like youâre melting. âOh fuck,â it leaves your mouth as a whimper, and Joelâs cock throbs at the sound.
âLike this?â He nips at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder and you shiver in his arms. He canât hide the smile, he doesnât care to. He loves that heâs capable of making you make those sounds.
You hum an almost silent âmhmâ, and wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers through the curls at the nape.
Joel has so much more room to move around now that heâs unrestrained, so he rolls his hips up into yours so you can feel what he has to offer. You gasp and arch your back, pushing yourself further onto him. He moans softly, his mitts trailing down your spine and cupping your ass cheeks as best they can. He can feel the heat between your legs growing and he has a nagging thought in his head.
Lay down, let her climb right on topâ
Joel shifts and wiggles down onto the mattress so heâs flat on his back, with you still straddling his hips. âTake your lil shorts off,â Joel taps your thigh, and then lifts his hips so he can shove his sweatpants down his legs.
You donât ask any questions. You roll off of him and Joel feels your shoulder touch his as you lay down to remove your bottoms. You go to crawl back into his lap but he stops you.
âSit up here,â he grips your hips as best he can with the mitts, and tugs you up to his face.
âWhat!?â You sound distressed, âYaâ want me tâdo what?â
âTurn around, and sit down,â Joel growls up at you.
You hesitate, the uncertainty clear in your voice. "I-I don't know..."
"C'mon, darlin'," Joel coaxes, his voice low and husky. "Let me taste you. I promise âm gonna make you feel so good."
With shaky movements, you turn around and slowly lower yourself over Joel's face.
He inhales deeply, taking in your scent. "That's it," he murmurs encouragingly. "Just like that." Joel can feel the heat radiating from your core as you hover uncertainly above him. He lifts his head, nuzzling his nose against your inner thigh. "Lil lower," he nips at your supple skin.
With a soft whimper, you finally sink down onto his waiting mouth. Joel groans at the first taste of you, his tongue delving between your folds. Your sweet and tangy, a little sweaty and muskyâ itâs fucking heady and perfect. He canât get enough.
âOh fuck,â you shudder as Joel licks a stripe from your clit to your entrance, which is already dripping and Joel feels pride swell in his chest.
Without Joel having to ask, or prompt you in any way, you lean over and take his hard, aching cock in your hand. Joel nearly comes right there when he hears you spit on it noisily and palm your warm saliva around the throbbing, drooling tip.
âFuuuuck,â Joel moans approvingly before his tongue pushes into your entrance.
"Oh god, Mister," you whimper, your hand still working his cock in long, slow strokes. Then you kitten lick the tip and he has to stop himself from bucking his hips.
Joel's mind goes blank as your warm, wet mouth envelops the head of his cock. He groans against your pussy, the vibrations making you shudder above him. His tongue laps eagerly at your fold, drinking in your arousal as it flows freely.
You bob your head, taking more of his length with each downward motion. Joel's hips twitch, fighting the urge to thrust up into the heavenly heat of your mouth. Instead, he focuses on pleasuring you, sucking your clit between his lips and flicking it with his tongue.
You whimper around his cock, grinding your hips down onto his face.
Joel pulls back slightly, his breath hot against your core. "That's it, baby girl. Ride my face," he growls before diving back in, his tongue circling your clit.
You pull away, your hand replacing your mouths ministrations and rest your head on Joelâs hip as you stroke him, never faltering on giving him pleasure. âPlease d-donât stop!â You cry out, your grip tightening around his shaft as you rock your hips. Joel's mitt-covered hands grip your thighs, urging you on.
"Gonna cum for me, darlin'?" he murmurs against your slick folds. "Let me taste it."
Joel feels you tense above him, your thighs quivering as you grind down harder on his face. He doubles his efforts, lapping at your clit with quick, firm strokes of his tongue. Your hand on his cock speeds up, pumping him in time with the rocking of your hips.
"Oh god, oh fuck," you whimper, your voice muffled against his hip. "I'm gonna-- I'm--"
Your words dissolve into a high-pitched moan as you come undone. Joel groans as he feels your pussy pulse against his mouth, a fresh wave of your arousal coating his tongue.
Your sounds, the way your hips continue to rock against his mouth as you unravel has his own release bubbling up to the surface. Joel groans deeply as his own orgasm crashes over him, his hips bucking up involuntarily as he spills into your hand. You stroke him through it, milking every last drop as he shudders beneath you.
Joel's whole body twitches as you clean him and your hand with your tongue, "Taste good," you mumble against his stomach, pressing soft kisses to the trail of hair between his cock and belly button.
Then, with shaky movements, you lift yourself off of Joel's face and turn around to face him. Even in the darkness, he can sense your uncertainty.
"C'mere," Joel murmurs, his voice rough. He reaches out, pulling you down to lay beside him. You settle against his chest, your breath warm on his neck.
âDonât kill me in my sleep, âkay?â You sigh, pressing a kiss to his pulse point.
Joel murmurs something incoherent, already on the verge of falling asleep.

Sorry it was like 45 minutes late (two days early if you look at the master list ok?-- I may have had something to drink.... and of course thanks @pedrospookie for that adorable fucking mood board. I hope you all like this chapter-- it's a little domesticated (i think), but I have more crazy, unhinged antics coming next chapter!)
TAG LIST: @pedrospookie @gothcsz @joelmillerisapunk @sp00kymulderr @paleidiot @goodvampykitten @rosebuds-and-moonlight @diabaroxa @zhazy-blog2 @almostempty @xdaddysprincessxx @tobethlehem @lilac-boo @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @rav3n-pascal22 @baronessvonglitter @joelmillerisapunk @syd-djarin @probablyreadinsmut @itwasntimethatdidit40 @letsgobarbs @lovehappyloki @joelalorian @pedrostories
(omg I think I got everyone but that's so many people, please let me know if I left you off or if you want to be taken out of the tag list!)
#mickeyâs manhunt (rec)#iconic#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller x you
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I'm the free use anon and FUCK!! that was amazing! I might have read it 3 times alreadyđ ugh how he didn't act until she was on a work call!!! My compliments to the chef đđ
BABE! thanks! i had fun with it and i'm so happy that you like it 𫶠đ let me know if you've got any more joel requests đ
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You seem hot
thanks i am!
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đ¤đ𫶠lol!
[900 words of fluff, smut, and breeding kink]
Daydreaming about...
Husband!Joel Miller and the first time it slipped from your lips.
You hadnât meant for it to happen.Â
It was a sultry summer evening, the kind where the air still clung to you even after the sun dipped below the horizon. Youâd both been a little buzzed, the walk home from the neighborhood block party filled with laughter and teasing touches.Â
Joel had barely managed to close the front door before his lips were on yours, his hands greedy and warm as they wandered under your sundress.
It had been the kind of night where everything felt heightenedâthe taste of his tongue against yours, the way his calloused palms felt against your skin, and how his every touch seemed to unravel you. Heâd taken you to bed with that intense, unfiltered adoration in his eyes, the kind that always left you weak in the knees.Â
He was almost too much, murmuring worshipful praises into your ear, and against every inch of your skin. He had that sparkle in his eyes that made you melt. Everything was a pleasant blur, the way your bodies fit together, your giggles as he nearly growled, trying to pull you closer.Â
The haze of his tender, overwhelming love, was more intoxicating than the warmth of the sun and the last hints of alcohol buzzing in your veins. He was pure devotion, attuned to every part of your body, every thought you might have, and coaxing you into a state of euphoria.Â
You didnât even realize you were talking, rambling softly between gasping breaths as he rocked into you, filling you to the brim until your eyes rolled back. But youâd been singing sweet praises right back to him.Â
âSo good,â you whispered. âJust like that, fuck.âÂ
And he did exactly as you said, hitting that perfect angle that had you floating away, lost in the bliss.Â
And then it happened.Â
Slipping free, soft and breathy between moans. âOh, fuck,â your brows scrunching together in that way they always did when you were close. âCum deep, baby, I need it.â Another moan rolled through you as he thrust his cock so deep it kissed the end of you. âThatâs it. I want to carry it inside me, always. Fill me up until it takes, Joel.âÂ
Joel had frozen for a moment, his gaze locking on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. His cock twitched inside of you like he was somehow even harder than heâd ever been. Something primal flickered in his dark eyes, his jaw tightening before he let out a deep, guttural groan.Â
Whatever switch youâd flipped in him sent him spiraling into something wild, feral. Heâd pumped into you like it was his sole purpose, whispering filth and adoration in equal measure, his body relentless against yours until you couldnât tell where you ended and he began. A tangled vine of limbs.Â
Now, a couple of years into your marriage, that same insatiable energy has returned. But this time itâs real. Tangible. The decision to start trying for a baby had been an exciting one, but you hadnât anticipated how it would unleash a new, unstoppable side of your husband.
Joelâs been radiating pure, unadulterated want for weeks now. Itâs in the way he looks at you, like youâre the only thing that matters in the entire universe. Itâs in his hands, which canât seem to stay off you, whether heâs tugging you into his lap on the couch, pressing against you in the kitchen, or pulling you into the shower under the guise of saving water.
Youâre attempting to finish making dinner when you feel him behind you. His strong arms slide around your waist, his chest pressing firmly against your back. His hands find their way to your hips first, then drift upward, cupping your breasts as his thumbs tease over the sensitive peaks through the thin fabric of your shirt.
âSweetheart,â he drawls, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine. âHow am I sâposed to keep my hands off ya when you look like this?â
âJoel,â you protest weakly, though the way your breath catches betrays you. âIâm trying to cook.â
âDonât care,â he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. âNeed you, darlinâ. Right here, right now.â His hands trail lower, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your leggings, and youâre gone, dinner long forgotten as he husks into your ear about how heâs gotta keep you filled up. Spouting off nonsense like how he can hear your pussy begginâ for him, how sheâs feelinâ empty and needs him too.
And somehow, no matter how filthy and feral he gets for you, itâs endearing. Wrapped in love and yearning for the idea of a family. Of more to love.Â
The rest of your daysâand nightsâfollow the same pattern.Â
You find yourself pinned against the kitchen counter, bent over the couch, tangled in the sheets. Heâs unstoppable, each touch, kiss, and thrust carrying a purpose that leaves you trembling and breathless.
Even at work, heâs insatiable. A quick trip to his job site to drop off his lunch turns into a heated, stolen moment in the back of your car. His kisses are ravenous, his hands rough but loving as he pulls you into his lap, his gruff voice murmuring, âCanât wait, baby. Need you now.â
Every touch feels like a vow, every whispered word a promise. Joel loves you with his whole being, and now, with the thought of building a family together, that love has taken on an obsessive edge that leaves you dizzy and utterly devoted to him.
Late one night, as you lie together in the afterglow, his hand splayed possessively over your lower belly, he looks at you with those hearts in his eyes.
âThis time,â he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. âI feel it.âÂ
And you believe him.Â
click here for more of my writing
let me know if you liked this or if you'd like to be tagged for my writing
dividers
đ @lovely-vamp-princess đ @mushgloomz đ @untamedheart81
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feral husband energy!! đââď¸đââď¸ thank you so much omfg đđŤś
[900 words of fluff, smut, and breeding kink]
Daydreaming about...
Husband!Joel Miller and the first time it slipped from your lips.
You hadnât meant for it to happen.Â
It was a sultry summer evening, the kind where the air still clung to you even after the sun dipped below the horizon. Youâd both been a little buzzed, the walk home from the neighborhood block party filled with laughter and teasing touches.Â
Joel had barely managed to close the front door before his lips were on yours, his hands greedy and warm as they wandered under your sundress.
It had been the kind of night where everything felt heightenedâthe taste of his tongue against yours, the way his calloused palms felt against your skin, and how his every touch seemed to unravel you. Heâd taken you to bed with that intense, unfiltered adoration in his eyes, the kind that always left you weak in the knees.Â
He was almost too much, murmuring worshipful praises into your ear, and against every inch of your skin. He had that sparkle in his eyes that made you melt. Everything was a pleasant blur, the way your bodies fit together, your giggles as he nearly growled, trying to pull you closer.Â
The haze of his tender, overwhelming love, was more intoxicating than the warmth of the sun and the last hints of alcohol buzzing in your veins. He was pure devotion, attuned to every part of your body, every thought you might have, and coaxing you into a state of euphoria.Â
You didnât even realize you were talking, rambling softly between gasping breaths as he rocked into you, filling you to the brim until your eyes rolled back. But youâd been singing sweet praises right back to him.Â
âSo good,â you whispered. âJust like that, fuck.âÂ
And he did exactly as you said, hitting that perfect angle that had you floating away, lost in the bliss.Â
And then it happened.Â
Slipping free, soft and breathy between moans. âOh, fuck,â your brows scrunching together in that way they always did when you were close. âCum deep, baby, I need it.â Another moan rolled through you as he thrust his cock so deep it kissed the end of you. âThatâs it. I want to carry it inside me, always. Fill me up until it takes, Joel.âÂ
Joel had frozen for a moment, his gaze locking on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. His cock twitched inside of you like he was somehow even harder than heâd ever been. Something primal flickered in his dark eyes, his jaw tightening before he let out a deep, guttural groan.Â
Whatever switch youâd flipped in him sent him spiraling into something wild, feral. Heâd pumped into you like it was his sole purpose, whispering filth and adoration in equal measure, his body relentless against yours until you couldnât tell where you ended and he began. A tangled vine of limbs.Â
Now, a couple of years into your marriage, that same insatiable energy has returned. But this time itâs real. Tangible. The decision to start trying for a baby had been an exciting one, but you hadnât anticipated how it would unleash a new, unstoppable side of your husband.
Joelâs been radiating pure, unadulterated want for weeks now. Itâs in the way he looks at you, like youâre the only thing that matters in the entire universe. Itâs in his hands, which canât seem to stay off you, whether heâs tugging you into his lap on the couch, pressing against you in the kitchen, or pulling you into the shower under the guise of saving water.
Youâre attempting to finish making dinner when you feel him behind you. His strong arms slide around your waist, his chest pressing firmly against your back. His hands find their way to your hips first, then drift upward, cupping your breasts as his thumbs tease over the sensitive peaks through the thin fabric of your shirt.
âSweetheart,â he drawls, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine. âHow am I sâposed to keep my hands off ya when you look like this?â
âJoel,â you protest weakly, though the way your breath catches betrays you. âIâm trying to cook.â
âDonât care,â he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. âNeed you, darlinâ. Right here, right now.â His hands trail lower, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your leggings, and youâre gone, dinner long forgotten as he husks into your ear about how heâs gotta keep you filled up. Spouting off nonsense like how he can hear your pussy begginâ for him, how sheâs feelinâ empty and needs him too.
And somehow, no matter how filthy and feral he gets for you, itâs endearing. Wrapped in love and yearning for the idea of a family. Of more to love.Â
The rest of your daysâand nightsâfollow the same pattern.Â
You find yourself pinned against the kitchen counter, bent over the couch, tangled in the sheets. Heâs unstoppable, each touch, kiss, and thrust carrying a purpose that leaves you trembling and breathless.
Even at work, heâs insatiable. A quick trip to his job site to drop off his lunch turns into a heated, stolen moment in the back of your car. His kisses are ravenous, his hands rough but loving as he pulls you into his lap, his gruff voice murmuring, âCanât wait, baby. Need you now.â
Every touch feels like a vow, every whispered word a promise. Joel loves you with his whole being, and now, with the thought of building a family together, that love has taken on an obsessive edge that leaves you dizzy and utterly devoted to him.
Late one night, as you lie together in the afterglow, his hand splayed possessively over your lower belly, he looks at you with those hearts in his eyes.
âThis time,â he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. âI feel it.âÂ
And you believe him.Â
click here for more of my writing
let me know if you liked this or if you'd like to be tagged for my writing
dividers
đ @lovely-vamp-princess đ @mushgloomz đ @untamedheart81
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thank you babes! đđŤś
[900 words of fluff, smut, and breeding kink]
Daydreaming about...
Husband!Joel Miller and the first time it slipped from your lips.
You hadnât meant for it to happen.Â
It was a sultry summer evening, the kind where the air still clung to you even after the sun dipped below the horizon. Youâd both been a little buzzed, the walk home from the neighborhood block party filled with laughter and teasing touches.Â
Joel had barely managed to close the front door before his lips were on yours, his hands greedy and warm as they wandered under your sundress.
It had been the kind of night where everything felt heightenedâthe taste of his tongue against yours, the way his calloused palms felt against your skin, and how his every touch seemed to unravel you. Heâd taken you to bed with that intense, unfiltered adoration in his eyes, the kind that always left you weak in the knees.Â
He was almost too much, murmuring worshipful praises into your ear, and against every inch of your skin. He had that sparkle in his eyes that made you melt. Everything was a pleasant blur, the way your bodies fit together, your giggles as he nearly growled, trying to pull you closer.Â
The haze of his tender, overwhelming love, was more intoxicating than the warmth of the sun and the last hints of alcohol buzzing in your veins. He was pure devotion, attuned to every part of your body, every thought you might have, and coaxing you into a state of euphoria.Â
You didnât even realize you were talking, rambling softly between gasping breaths as he rocked into you, filling you to the brim until your eyes rolled back. But youâd been singing sweet praises right back to him.Â
âSo good,â you whispered. âJust like that, fuck.âÂ
And he did exactly as you said, hitting that perfect angle that had you floating away, lost in the bliss.Â
And then it happened.Â
Slipping free, soft and breathy between moans. âOh, fuck,â your brows scrunching together in that way they always did when you were close. âCum deep, baby, I need it.â Another moan rolled through you as he thrust his cock so deep it kissed the end of you. âThatâs it. I want to carry it inside me, always. Fill me up until it takes, Joel.âÂ
Joel had frozen for a moment, his gaze locking on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. His cock twitched inside of you like he was somehow even harder than heâd ever been. Something primal flickered in his dark eyes, his jaw tightening before he let out a deep, guttural groan.Â
Whatever switch youâd flipped in him sent him spiraling into something wild, feral. Heâd pumped into you like it was his sole purpose, whispering filth and adoration in equal measure, his body relentless against yours until you couldnât tell where you ended and he began. A tangled vine of limbs.Â
Now, a couple of years into your marriage, that same insatiable energy has returned. But this time itâs real. Tangible. The decision to start trying for a baby had been an exciting one, but you hadnât anticipated how it would unleash a new, unstoppable side of your husband.
Joelâs been radiating pure, unadulterated want for weeks now. Itâs in the way he looks at you, like youâre the only thing that matters in the entire universe. Itâs in his hands, which canât seem to stay off you, whether heâs tugging you into his lap on the couch, pressing against you in the kitchen, or pulling you into the shower under the guise of saving water.
Youâre attempting to finish making dinner when you feel him behind you. His strong arms slide around your waist, his chest pressing firmly against your back. His hands find their way to your hips first, then drift upward, cupping your breasts as his thumbs tease over the sensitive peaks through the thin fabric of your shirt.
âSweetheart,â he drawls, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine. âHow am I sâposed to keep my hands off ya when you look like this?â
âJoel,â you protest weakly, though the way your breath catches betrays you. âIâm trying to cook.â
âDonât care,â he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. âNeed you, darlinâ. Right here, right now.â His hands trail lower, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your leggings, and youâre gone, dinner long forgotten as he husks into your ear about how heâs gotta keep you filled up. Spouting off nonsense like how he can hear your pussy begginâ for him, how sheâs feelinâ empty and needs him too.
And somehow, no matter how filthy and feral he gets for you, itâs endearing. Wrapped in love and yearning for the idea of a family. Of more to love.Â
The rest of your daysâand nightsâfollow the same pattern.Â
You find yourself pinned against the kitchen counter, bent over the couch, tangled in the sheets. Heâs unstoppable, each touch, kiss, and thrust carrying a purpose that leaves you trembling and breathless.
Even at work, heâs insatiable. A quick trip to his job site to drop off his lunch turns into a heated, stolen moment in the back of your car. His kisses are ravenous, his hands rough but loving as he pulls you into his lap, his gruff voice murmuring, âCanât wait, baby. Need you now.â
Every touch feels like a vow, every whispered word a promise. Joel loves you with his whole being, and now, with the thought of building a family together, that love has taken on an obsessive edge that leaves you dizzy and utterly devoted to him.
Late one night, as you lie together in the afterglow, his hand splayed possessively over your lower belly, he looks at you with those hearts in his eyes.
âThis time,â he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. âI feel it.âÂ
And you believe him.Â
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only in my daydreams i swear đđ
[900 words of fluff, smut, and breeding kink]
Daydreaming about...
Husband!Joel Miller and the first time it slipped from your lips.
You hadnât meant for it to happen.Â
It was a sultry summer evening, the kind where the air still clung to you even after the sun dipped below the horizon. Youâd both been a little buzzed, the walk home from the neighborhood block party filled with laughter and teasing touches.Â
Joel had barely managed to close the front door before his lips were on yours, his hands greedy and warm as they wandered under your sundress.
It had been the kind of night where everything felt heightenedâthe taste of his tongue against yours, the way his calloused palms felt against your skin, and how his every touch seemed to unravel you. Heâd taken you to bed with that intense, unfiltered adoration in his eyes, the kind that always left you weak in the knees.Â
He was almost too much, murmuring worshipful praises into your ear, and against every inch of your skin. He had that sparkle in his eyes that made you melt. Everything was a pleasant blur, the way your bodies fit together, your giggles as he nearly growled, trying to pull you closer.Â
The haze of his tender, overwhelming love, was more intoxicating than the warmth of the sun and the last hints of alcohol buzzing in your veins. He was pure devotion, attuned to every part of your body, every thought you might have, and coaxing you into a state of euphoria.Â
You didnât even realize you were talking, rambling softly between gasping breaths as he rocked into you, filling you to the brim until your eyes rolled back. But youâd been singing sweet praises right back to him.Â
âSo good,â you whispered. âJust like that, fuck.âÂ
And he did exactly as you said, hitting that perfect angle that had you floating away, lost in the bliss.Â
And then it happened.Â
Slipping free, soft and breathy between moans. âOh, fuck,â your brows scrunching together in that way they always did when you were close. âCum deep, baby, I need it.â Another moan rolled through you as he thrust his cock so deep it kissed the end of you. âThatâs it. I want to carry it inside me, always. Fill me up until it takes, Joel.âÂ
Joel had frozen for a moment, his gaze locking on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. His cock twitched inside of you like he was somehow even harder than heâd ever been. Something primal flickered in his dark eyes, his jaw tightening before he let out a deep, guttural groan.Â
Whatever switch youâd flipped in him sent him spiraling into something wild, feral. Heâd pumped into you like it was his sole purpose, whispering filth and adoration in equal measure, his body relentless against yours until you couldnât tell where you ended and he began. A tangled vine of limbs.Â
Now, a couple of years into your marriage, that same insatiable energy has returned. But this time itâs real. Tangible. The decision to start trying for a baby had been an exciting one, but you hadnât anticipated how it would unleash a new, unstoppable side of your husband.
Joelâs been radiating pure, unadulterated want for weeks now. Itâs in the way he looks at you, like youâre the only thing that matters in the entire universe. Itâs in his hands, which canât seem to stay off you, whether heâs tugging you into his lap on the couch, pressing against you in the kitchen, or pulling you into the shower under the guise of saving water.
Youâre attempting to finish making dinner when you feel him behind you. His strong arms slide around your waist, his chest pressing firmly against your back. His hands find their way to your hips first, then drift upward, cupping your breasts as his thumbs tease over the sensitive peaks through the thin fabric of your shirt.
âSweetheart,â he drawls, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine. âHow am I sâposed to keep my hands off ya when you look like this?â
âJoel,â you protest weakly, though the way your breath catches betrays you. âIâm trying to cook.â
âDonât care,â he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. âNeed you, darlinâ. Right here, right now.â His hands trail lower, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your leggings, and youâre gone, dinner long forgotten as he husks into your ear about how heâs gotta keep you filled up. Spouting off nonsense like how he can hear your pussy begginâ for him, how sheâs feelinâ empty and needs him too.
And somehow, no matter how filthy and feral he gets for you, itâs endearing. Wrapped in love and yearning for the idea of a family. Of more to love.Â
The rest of your daysâand nightsâfollow the same pattern.Â
You find yourself pinned against the kitchen counter, bent over the couch, tangled in the sheets. Heâs unstoppable, each touch, kiss, and thrust carrying a purpose that leaves you trembling and breathless.
Even at work, heâs insatiable. A quick trip to his job site to drop off his lunch turns into a heated, stolen moment in the back of your car. His kisses are ravenous, his hands rough but loving as he pulls you into his lap, his gruff voice murmuring, âCanât wait, baby. Need you now.â
Every touch feels like a vow, every whispered word a promise. Joel loves you with his whole being, and now, with the thought of building a family together, that love has taken on an obsessive edge that leaves you dizzy and utterly devoted to him.
Late one night, as you lie together in the afterglow, his hand splayed possessively over your lower belly, he looks at you with those hearts in his eyes.
âThis time,â he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. âI feel it.âÂ
And you believe him.Â
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I was wondering if you'd write anything about Joel and free use?
Love your account babeđ
thank you so much babe, i loved this idea! i hope you enjoy my take on it. i was fantasizing about...
renting a room from joel miller and striking a deal to lower your rent.Â
3.5k words đwarnings: explicit smut, no outbreak au, age gap (reader in college), female reader, brief mention of f masturbation, free use!!, size kink, pussy pronouns, unprotected piv, use of: sweetheart, darlin'Â
click here for more of my writing
So you end up short on options for housing after breaking up with your ex. You know it seems weird to be a young woman willing to rent a room from an older man who is âŚwell in all versions you spin itâŚa total stranger. But, your aunt swears heâs a good guy.Â
She used to live in his neighborhood, knew his daughter, figured he has the extra room and put you in touch. And all things considered, she hasnât led you astray. I mean, he hasnât murdered you.Â
Okay, itâs not that bad. He doesnât give off murder vibes either. More likeâŚgrumpy single man vibes. But that works out for your arrangement. Youâre both pretty quiet and you keep to yourselves. And heâs not too bad to look at. You catch yourself straddling a line between not being the creep yourself and just wanting to get to know him a little bit.Â
The real problem has nothing to do with him and everything to do with you. Well with your bank account. Youâve been bleeding your measly savings trying to keep up with life and the job you have isnât really enough to live off of. It was a dream to find a hybrid schedule and work for a non-profit with a mission that matters to you. But it doesnât pay for shit.Â
Itâs not like Joelâs overcharging you or anything either. Nothing is affordable.Â
And now youâre on your last legs. If you canât keep this together youâll have to pack it up and crawl home to your family? Not an option. Itâs not like you havenât been applying for other jobs either. But you either donât hear back or the schedule wonât work with your classes.Â
So here you are. Pacing back and forth in your sparsely decorated room. Between your bed and your desk, wearing a groove into the carpet, chewing on your fingers and obsessively checking your phone to see if your sage friends have any better advice.Â
They donât.Â
Well, they suggested selling feet pics online, but even if that could be lucrativeâit doesnât get you the money to spend by tomorrow. You toss yourself onto your bed, exasperated. Last resort. Youâre gonna have to be honest.Â
It takes a long time to gather the mental courage. You stare at your ceiling for so long your eyes blur. You can hear Joel in the kitchen and with a deep breath you force yourself up, dragging your feet down the hallway until you see him.Â
The kitchen is warm, whatever heâd made for dinner earlier smells good. So good it makes your stomach growl, announcing your presence in the doorway. The sound makes you grimaceâfor a split second youâre tempted to hide. To run back to your room and pretend like there wonât be any consequences if you just donât bring it up. Ever.Â
Too late. He shuts the dishwasher with a loud click and turns, his sharp brown eyes meeting yours. You immediately regret this idea. Your feel like youâre sinking into the floor. You donât know how long youâve been staring at him now.Â
âHey,â he says gruffly, his voice low and even. He turns back away from you, putting leftovers in the fridge, like itâs no big deal youâve been standing there silently like a weirdo. âYou need something?âÂ
Your throat is suddenly so dry, you can barely unstick your tongue to speak. âYeahâŚuh, can I talk to you for a second?âÂ
Joel pauses mid-motion, before shoving the last container onto the shelf and letting the fridge door shut, trapping you in the silence together. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks toward you. The way his shirt stretches across his shoulders makes you nervous for reasons you donât want to analyze right now.Â
âSure.âÂ
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, your hands twisting in front of you like theyâre trying to strangle each other. His eyes flick down to the motion, and you force yourself to stop.Â
âSo, uhâŚI was wonderingââ You swallow hard. You can do it. âI need to talk to you about my rent.âÂ
His eyebrows lift, and your chest tightens.Â
âLetâs hear it then.âÂ
âItâs just that Iâm in kind of a tight spot right now. Workâs beenâwell, itâs been fine but moneyâs tight, and I justââ Youâre rambling. Words all running together. âIâm not saying youâre charging too much or anything like that, butââÂ
âSlow down,â Joel holds up a hand, and the rest of your words fall flat. His voice is calm, but firm. âYou sayinâ you canât afford it?âÂ
âI can!â you blurt out. âI mean, I canât by tomorrow, but I can soon. I just thought, maybe we could work something out. LikeâŚif you could give me some more time or if I could do something to work off some of what I owe.â Joel tilts his head slightly, studying you in a way that makes your skin prickle. You canât tell if heâs annoyed or just thinking, and the silence stretches too long for comfort.Â
Finally, he exhales through his nose, dropping his arms and leaning his palms on the counter behind him. His voice is lower when he speaks again, quieter, like heâs weighing every word.Â
âYou wanna do something for me?âÂ
Your heart skips, and you blink up at him. Maybe that was a dumb suggestion. You donât even know what you have to offer. The house is always clean, the yard maintained, he seems to enjoy cooking.Â
âUh, yeah?â your face contorts a little as you try and come up with a suggestion. âIf youâd consider giving me a discount.âÂ
His lips twitch, just the barest hint of a smirk, and something about it makes the air in the room shift.Â
âWell,â he drawls, âIf Iâm cuttinâ you a deal,---âÂ
âYouâll consider it?â You look at him with a smile already starting to break on your face. You can breathe.Â
âMaybe you can cut me one, too.â He finishes his sentence. Your mouth hangs open, but nothing comes out. Thereâs something behind his words you donât fully understand, but itâs stuck in the air between you.Â
âWhat kind of deal?â you manage to get out, your voice hesitant.Â
Joel pushes off the counter, closing the space between you in a way thatâs casual, but calculated. Heâs close enough you can make out the lines at the corners of his eyes, the salt-and-pepper in his beard. His gaze holds yours, steady and charged with something new.Â
âYou say yes,â he starts to explain, his voice dropping into a gravelly timbre that makes your pulse quicken. âAnd Iâll knock your rent down as much as you need. Simple.âÂ
The room suddenly feels small, too warm, like his gravity is holding you in place.Â
âSay yes to what, Mr. Miller?â Your voice is soft, just a whisper rolling off your tongue. You have an idea what heâs proposing. The way his eyes flicker with something dark and knowing when you refer to him as Mr. Miller. The crackle in the air between you.Â
âI think you know what I mean.âÂ
You shake your head, ever so subtly, wrinkling a brow. In what feels like slow motion, Joel tips your chin up, between his thumb and curled forefinger. Your face is on fire. Somehow exposed even though nothing else has changed.Â
âWhenever I need you. Wherever I want you.âÂ
For a second you think he might kiss you. It feels like everything in your body is calling to him. His mouth is so close to yours. The words are still replaying in your mind.Â
But he pulls his hand back. âThink about it,â he murmurs and brushes past you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body. He glances back at you once on his way out of the room. âOfferâs on the table, sweetheart,â he says over his shoulder. âUp to you.âÂ
Youâre left standing, still as a stone, heat prickling up your spine as his words replay in your head.Â
What the fuck just happened?
âHey!â you call out, starting down the hall after Joel. âWait.âÂ
He turns, hovering in the doorway to his room.Â
âUh, are you talking about sex?âÂ
âYep.âÂ
Your breath hitches. The corner of his mouth quirks, smug. You look at him with fresh eyes. Heâs an attractive guy. Not exactly pleasant, but not a jerk. You canât imagine heâd have a hard time picking up a date.Â
âIâm not a whore, you know.â âI know, darlinâ.â His face softens a little.Â
The next couple of days are filled with tension so thick itâs impossible to ignore. Whenever youâre in the same room you can feel his eyes lingering on you. He brushes past you in the kitchen in the morning, his hand grazing your hip when he reaches for his coffee mug.Â
You catch him watching you from across the room, leaning against the counter like he has all the time in the world. His eyes roam all over your body, dark and deliberate, and you can feel the promise in his gaze.Â
Itâs driving you fucking insane. You thought heâd have made a move by now. Hell, you thought heâd have made a move the second you agreed to his deal. But heâd only made sure you each had a few ground rules and that was it. End of conversation.Â
âHave a good night now, darlinâ. Hope you sleep better without having to worry about your rent.âÂ
Right. You didnât have to worry about rent. You just had to spiral in your own room wondering when it would happen. How heâs going to take you.
Itâs got you so worked up thinking about him you keep spacing out during your work meetings. Swiveling restlessly on your office chair in your bedroom, trying to remember to look focused and add your two cents in for participation.Â
But all you can think about is Joel. Youâre on high alert whenever you hear his truck roll into the driveway, the door slamming shut with a thud. His heavy steps coming down the hall. You wonder when heâll want you. You know he meant it.Â
You hope he meant it.Â
That night, his footsteps pause outside your door, his presence thick in the air, setting your pulse racing. It makes you squirm, adjusting the skimpy pajamas youâve taken to wearing as your heart beats faster. You canât tell if heâs debating coming in or if heâs just fucking with you, but itâs got you breathless.Â
The next morning, youâre standing in the bathroom doorway, brushing your teeth when Joel suddenly appears, shirtless and still damp from his shower. He gives you a lazy once-over, stepping close enough that you have to press yourself against the door frame to let him pass.Â
His voice is low and teasing as he murmurs, âYouâre in the way, sweetheart,â leaving your cheeks flaming.Â
The next day, youâre still tense.Â
Stretching in your desk chair as your coworkers read through their budget updates and data tracking for the grants youâre funded through. Itâs hard to stay focused, Joel has taken over all of your thoughts.Â
Jaz finishes her update and another department leads the rest of the meeting. Youâre shuffling your notes around mindlessly, barely hearing a word. Every thought in your head is Joel, Joel, Joel.
Last night, youâd nearly combusted when he finally walked away from your door. Youâd been seconds from begging him to come in, to just take you already. By the time he left, your thighs were slick, and the ache was unbearable. You had to handle it yourself, coming hard and fast on your fingers, imagining it was his thick, calloused hands instead.
But now, twelve hours later, the tension is already back. Worse than before. Every noise in the house puts you on edge. His truck rumbling into the driveway. The front door shutting.Â
The meeting drags on, voices fading into a blurâuntil a soft knock jolts you back to reality.Â
Before you can answer, the door swings open, and Joel steps inside like he owns the placeâwhich, technically, he does. He leans against the frame, arms crossed, looking completely unbothered by the fact that youâre clearly in the middle of something.
Your heart races. Your eyes flick to your camera to make sure itâs off. Muted. Thank God.
Joel doesnât say anything, just watches you with a smirk that makes your stomach flip. His dark eyes roam over you, slow and deliberate, and itâs like every molecule of air has been sucked out of the room.
He takes his time crossing the space between you, letting the silence stretch. You can feel the heat radiating off him as he crowds you, hands bracing the arms of your chair, caging you in.
âYou gonna tell me to stop?â he drawls, his voice low and gravelly.
Your throat is so tight you canât even speak. You shake your head.
Joelâs smirk deepens. âThatâs what I thought.â
His big hands tug you to the edge of your chair, spreading your knees wide. He runs his palms along your thighs, leaving a trail of heat that burns your skin through your soft leggings.Â
Your heart jumps to your throat, chest tight.Â
The thought of your coworkers just a click away only heightens the thrill.Â
Joel doesnât hold back. Pulling you to stand. Turning you to face your desk and pressing until you lean your elbows on the smooth surface, framing your keyboard.Â
You arch your spine eagerly, holding your breath, bracing for his next move. He smooths a palm over the curve of your ass, humming softly to himself, before slipping his hand between your legs.Â
You tilt your head, a shaky breath escaping as his fingers press against you, making your thighs tremble. You know he can feel how wet you already are through the thin material. All day youâre wet for him, just waiting and waiting.Â
His touch is firm and you grind into it without thinking, making him laugh under his breath. âShit,â he murmurs. âShe needs it worse than I do, huh?â You donât answer. Just dropping your head between your shoulder blades as he rubs circles against your clothed pussy.Â
He retracts his hand, swiftly pulling your leggings down, exposing your puffy, wet folds to the cooler air.Â
You stay folded over, forehead resting on your desk, ass arched in presentation. You donât know what to expect next, your pulse thunders in your ear as you wait.Â
His hands frame your cunt, spreading you wider so he can look closer. Youâd be self-conscious being studied so closely if you were any less desperate for him to touch you. But all you can do you is silently beg him to do something.Â
âChrist,â he murmurs reverently, dropping to his knees behind you. âJust a taste first.â It sounds like heâs talking to himself. You donât care.Â
You gasp sharply the second his tongue dips between your swollen lips. Itâs so much better than your fingers and your frustrated, rushed orgasms last night. Itâs so much better.Â
He uses his whole face, diving deeper, as he groans into your pussy. Your meeting is still in progress, but the voices coming through your speakers could be speaking a foreign language. They mean nothing to you right now.Â
The only thing that matters is between your legs. Youâre almost embarrassed at how close you already are. You donât know if you should say anything. If he cares if he makes you cum. Before you can think any harder, heâs back on his feet and youâre whimpering at the loss.Â
âI know.âÂ
The soft clink of his belt followed by the sound of him unzipping his jeans has your knees weak. The thrill that shoots through you is like lightning, ripping through your system and activating every nerve in your body.Â
Be good," he growls, dragging his cock through your slick.
âOh, fuck,â you canât help the awe and the relief. The heat, the thickness, the pressure. Itâs everything you need, but not enough at the same time. He continues for a moment, coating his length in your arousal as you try to swallow down your needy moans.Â
He slots his blunt tip at your entrance, adding enough pressure to make you suck in air. Without even seeing it, you know itâs going to be a stretch. Like he can read your mind, or at least your body, he runs his hand soothingly over your spine.Â
It shouldnât melt your nerves so fast, but the gentle touch eases your mind. For reasons you canât explainâfeelings really, you feel safe.Â
âWeâll start slow this time, sweetheart. Donât worry.âÂ
And then heâs nudging into you, working you open around his wide cockhead. Itâs mildly uncomfortable, but you welcome the dull ache. Your throbbing pussy has been begging for it. He pulls back, repeating the slow movement, splitting you open for him a little further each time.Â
It makes you needy, you try to push back against him, but he only swats at your ass. âI told ya to be good.âÂ
Your cheeks feel hot at the scolding.Â
âSorry, Mr. Miller.â It comes out more confident than you expected, your voice smooth and low.Â
You can feel the way his dick twitches at your response before he continues, painstakingly slowly, filling you up. Youâre still frustrated, but each time he thrusts into you, your knees almost buckle and you know he hasnât made it all the way in yet. Youâre still hungry for that feeling, for his hips to meet your ass, flush.Â
You canât hold back your moans as he drags along your nerves. He already has your eyes rolling back and heâs not even fucking you yet.Â
Until he stops, held still halfway inside of you. You blink your eyes open, trying not to whine.Â
He says your name like heâs been calling it and youâve been ignoring him. âHmm?â you respond.Â
âThink theyâre waiting for your answer.âÂ
âOh, shit.âÂ
Joel still doesnât move. You unmute your mic, trying to steady your voice. âIâm really sorry, uh, can you repeat the question?âÂ
âJust confirming your mid-cycle reports are already submitted.âÂ
âYes.âÂ
âGreat.âÂ
You mute the mic again and Joel slams the rest of the way home, making you cry out in surprise.Â
He doesnât hold back now, his rough hand gripping your hip as he takes you, low grunts echoing in your room as he snaps his hips forward. Your ass ripples, bouncing off of him with every thrust and the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin fill your ears.Â
He hits so fucking deep at this angle, you can barely think. His balls slap against you and for some reason that makes you even more crazy for him. You meet his every thrust with the same energy, fucking hard. So hard your desk rattles, but neither of you can be bothered by itâs structural integrity.Â
He keeps you on edge, pounding into you as the pressure builds. When you shift slightly, his cock drags over the devastating spot that makes you nearly wail.
âYeah?â he asks as if you could respond right now. âRight there?âÂ
âMmm,â is all you can manage.Â
âGood. Let me have it. Rub that pretty clit of yours for me, I wanna feel her trying to milk me dry.âÂ
Fuck. His filthy words nearly send you over the edge immediately, but when you slip your own hand between your legs, itâs euphoric. Furiously working at your slick, swollen bundle of nerves you drive yourself to the brink.Â
âGonnaâah!--gonna cum,â You get the breathy, gasping words out right as your pussy starts to clench around him. He groans lowly, making you see stars as your climax tears through you.Â
The waves are still rolling through your muscles, your core still tensing, when he pulls out. The slick sounds as he pumps his cock rapidly are obscene and you donât want them to stop. But then you feel his hot cum painting your ass, and youâre moaning in unison.Â
Then heâs pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before slinking out of your room. You grimace. Tuning back in to the speaker still rambling on about god knows what on your computer. Before you can move, Joel is back with a small towel to clean you up.Â
Youâre stuck in a daze. A blissed-out state, as you straighten up and pull your leggings back up. Joelâs about to slip back out the door as if nothing happened. Before he steps out of the room though, he gives you a knowing smirk, âYou did good for me, darlinâ.âÂ
Youâre left staring at the closed door, breathless and trembling, the heat of his touch still lingering on your skin. Rent isnât the problem anymore. Joel Miller is.
click here for more of my writing
please let me know if you liked this!
let me know if you wanna be tagged for more joel fantasies
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taglist:
@lovely-vamp-princess @mushgloomz @untamedheart81 @kyloispunk
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller fanfic#smut#pedro pascal#free use kink#mickey's fantasies
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thanks babes! đđŤś
[900 words of fluff, smut, and breeding kink]
Daydreaming about...
Husband!Joel Miller and the first time it slipped from your lips.
You hadnât meant for it to happen.Â
It was a sultry summer evening, the kind where the air still clung to you even after the sun dipped below the horizon. Youâd both been a little buzzed, the walk home from the neighborhood block party filled with laughter and teasing touches.Â
Joel had barely managed to close the front door before his lips were on yours, his hands greedy and warm as they wandered under your sundress.
It had been the kind of night where everything felt heightenedâthe taste of his tongue against yours, the way his calloused palms felt against your skin, and how his every touch seemed to unravel you. Heâd taken you to bed with that intense, unfiltered adoration in his eyes, the kind that always left you weak in the knees.Â
He was almost too much, murmuring worshipful praises into your ear, and against every inch of your skin. He had that sparkle in his eyes that made you melt. Everything was a pleasant blur, the way your bodies fit together, your giggles as he nearly growled, trying to pull you closer.Â
The haze of his tender, overwhelming love, was more intoxicating than the warmth of the sun and the last hints of alcohol buzzing in your veins. He was pure devotion, attuned to every part of your body, every thought you might have, and coaxing you into a state of euphoria.Â
You didnât even realize you were talking, rambling softly between gasping breaths as he rocked into you, filling you to the brim until your eyes rolled back. But youâd been singing sweet praises right back to him.Â
âSo good,â you whispered. âJust like that, fuck.âÂ
And he did exactly as you said, hitting that perfect angle that had you floating away, lost in the bliss.Â
And then it happened.Â
Slipping free, soft and breathy between moans. âOh, fuck,â your brows scrunching together in that way they always did when you were close. âCum deep, baby, I need it.â Another moan rolled through you as he thrust his cock so deep it kissed the end of you. âThatâs it. I want to carry it inside me, always. Fill me up until it takes, Joel.âÂ
Joel had frozen for a moment, his gaze locking on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. His cock twitched inside of you like he was somehow even harder than heâd ever been. Something primal flickered in his dark eyes, his jaw tightening before he let out a deep, guttural groan.Â
Whatever switch youâd flipped in him sent him spiraling into something wild, feral. Heâd pumped into you like it was his sole purpose, whispering filth and adoration in equal measure, his body relentless against yours until you couldnât tell where you ended and he began. A tangled vine of limbs.Â
Now, a couple of years into your marriage, that same insatiable energy has returned. But this time itâs real. Tangible. The decision to start trying for a baby had been an exciting one, but you hadnât anticipated how it would unleash a new, unstoppable side of your husband.
Joelâs been radiating pure, unadulterated want for weeks now. Itâs in the way he looks at you, like youâre the only thing that matters in the entire universe. Itâs in his hands, which canât seem to stay off you, whether heâs tugging you into his lap on the couch, pressing against you in the kitchen, or pulling you into the shower under the guise of saving water.
Youâre attempting to finish making dinner when you feel him behind you. His strong arms slide around your waist, his chest pressing firmly against your back. His hands find their way to your hips first, then drift upward, cupping your breasts as his thumbs tease over the sensitive peaks through the thin fabric of your shirt.
âSweetheart,â he drawls, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine. âHow am I sâposed to keep my hands off ya when you look like this?â
âJoel,â you protest weakly, though the way your breath catches betrays you. âIâm trying to cook.â
âDonât care,â he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. âNeed you, darlinâ. Right here, right now.â His hands trail lower, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your leggings, and youâre gone, dinner long forgotten as he husks into your ear about how heâs gotta keep you filled up. Spouting off nonsense like how he can hear your pussy begginâ for him, how sheâs feelinâ empty and needs him too.
And somehow, no matter how filthy and feral he gets for you, itâs endearing. Wrapped in love and yearning for the idea of a family. Of more to love.Â
The rest of your daysâand nightsâfollow the same pattern.Â
You find yourself pinned against the kitchen counter, bent over the couch, tangled in the sheets. Heâs unstoppable, each touch, kiss, and thrust carrying a purpose that leaves you trembling and breathless.
Even at work, heâs insatiable. A quick trip to his job site to drop off his lunch turns into a heated, stolen moment in the back of your car. His kisses are ravenous, his hands rough but loving as he pulls you into his lap, his gruff voice murmuring, âCanât wait, baby. Need you now.â
Every touch feels like a vow, every whispered word a promise. Joel loves you with his whole being, and now, with the thought of building a family together, that love has taken on an obsessive edge that leaves you dizzy and utterly devoted to him.
Late one night, as you lie together in the afterglow, his hand splayed possessively over your lower belly, he looks at you with those hearts in his eyes.
âThis time,â he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. âI feel it.âÂ
And you believe him.Â
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