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oh my god. i am speechless.

the trust that they have and how joel just wants to make sure she feels good. ughhhhh its so so good. also the way they were talking about her while she was right there WAS SO HOT.

Get to touch this whenever I damn well please, ain’t that somethin’, brother?” Joel muses as he brings two fingers down and slips them in between your legs, dragging them up your slit.

this line in particular had me going feral. JOEL MILLER AS MY HUSBAND AND TOUCHING ME WHENEVER HE WANTS WHEN!!!!!!!

pretty little wife | generous

joel x f!reader one shot collection

part three of pretty little wife — can be read independently series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 10.5k words — tommy stops by to see you and joel in the evening, and the night takes a turn that you never could have expected | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! joel x f!reader x tommy for this chapter, pre-established relationship, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, overstimulation, cum play, dirty talk, pet names for reader, brief mention of food, this shit is messy, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you! a/n: nobody look at me i don't even know what happened here i blacked out and wrote this..........

i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡

“Oh honey, I know, I’m almost finished here, just a few more things t’take care of, mkay?” Joel responds calmly to your restless movements from his lap. He’d promised to watch a movie with you tonight, but instead he’s gotten caught up with some after hours work in his home office. The only downside to Joel owning his own very successful contracting business is the fact that you have to share him with it so often. 

“Better be,” you tease him, “I bought all the best snacks for us.”

“Did you now? Got my Reese’s?” Joel asks, attempting to type something on the computer with his arms extended around either side of your body. 

You roll your eyes playfully. “Of course I did. And your M&M’s for the popcorn, you weirdo.”

“You’re the weirdo for not likin’ it, honey,” Joel quips back.

You grumble mockingly into his chest where your head is neatly tucked. “I just like my popcorn and chocolate separate,” you say with conviction. 

Joel chuckles at the silly argument you’ve had countless times over the years and rubs your back as he tries to focus his attention on the computer again.

You both perk up a moment later, hearing movement from within the house, the familiar noise of the front door closing, far in the distance from where Joel’s office is at the end of the hallway on the second floor.

“Joel?” a deep, male voice calls out.

“S’just Tommy, droppin’ off some work stuff,” Joel assures you. You shouldn’t be surprised - Tommy is one of the only people who has a key to your house besides you and Joel. The younger Miller brother is often over at your place, either for work related reasons with his and Joel’s business, to borrow something from you two, or to just share a beer with his brother. Tommy Miller is far from an unfamiliar site in your household, and he’s welcomed you to his life so openly that you don’t mind one bit that he has such easy access to the house.

“Up here!” Joel calls back. You stir on Joel’s lap, starting to scoot off of him to stand up, but Joel shakes his head with a tut and wraps his arms around you in a flash, as if he anticipated the move from you. “Uh-uh. You stay right here,” he commands, in the tone of voice you tend not to question. “We’ll be real fast. ‘Sides, lemme show off my pretty wife, huh?”

You let out a giggle as Joel squeezes you encouragingly. “Okay…” you say more shyly now, still feeling a bit introverted at times like this when other people get to see even a portion of Joel’s dynamic with you. But with how electric it is, how much you’re drawn to each other, it’s no doubt that people notice whether you want them to or not. You’ve lost count of the number of times around friends or family that you’ve ended up nearly on Joel’s lap, his arms wrapped tightly around you, or a strong hand enveloping your back or ass as he rubs and squeezes you secretly, like he can’t help but touch you. Life with Joel is a constant game of teasing and working each other up, and he doesn’t seem to care who gets involved in the show.

“Good girl,” Joel murmurs in your ear as you hear heavy footfall approaching the office. Tommy pauses in the open doorway, and you swear he pales a bit at the sight of you curled up delicately in Joel’s lap, one of his hands planted firmly on your ass cheek as you rest your head on his chest. You immediately glance away, your face already burning from the way he’d looked at the two of you.

He greets both you and Joel, an awkward stutter to his words, and you flash your eyes to him again, giving him a smile that feels more like a grimace. You notice that now Tommy’s cheeks are turning a steadier shade of pink the longer he stands there. 

“Got those contracts, Joel, uh, right here,” Tommy says, still paused awkwardly in the doorway, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he holds onto a manila folder like his life depends on it.

“You’re a lifesaver, brother. Needed that stuff done for tomorrow mornin’,” Joel says, absently turning his gaze to and from what he’d been working on on his computer. He finally stops, his eyes lingering on where Tommy continues to stand firm, looking unsure of what to do next.

“Can just set that right here, ‘f that’s alright,” Joel says, and Tommy approaches, looking somewhat nervously between you and Joel as he gets next to the two of you and sets the folder on Joel’s desk before stepping back. While it’s true that Tommy has borne witness to some of yours and Joel’s flirtations and touching, you recognIze this might be another level for him. You don’t know how much Joel shares with Tommy about you either, and it’s making you nervous now, the way he’s looking at you. 

“Somethin’ wrong?” Joel asks his brother, his hand absentmindedly trailing along your back, fingertips rubbing against the fabric of your shirt, and you fight the urge to shudder, refusing to show Tommy what a pathetic mess you are for his brother.

Tommy chuckles, then sits himself on the small loveseat on the opposite wall of Joel’s desk, cocking his head a little bit as Joel swivels the chair, bringing you along with him to face Tommy. 

“Just you two, admirin’ the love birds. Wasn’t expectin’ all this when I walked in, sorry,” Tommy replies, seeming to loosen up a bit as he speaks. He leans back, placing his hands behind his head and sighs. 

“Sorry, brother, my little wife here just couldn’t wait for me to be done with work, that’s all. Supposed to be spendin’ time w’her tonight, so next best thing right here, isn’t that right darlin’?”

You blink up at Joel and smile, nodding your head. “Sorry, Tommy, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” you say, turning your attention in his direction now.

“Blame me, I told her not to move when we heard you comin’,” Joel says with a chuckle, and Tommy’s brows knit together amusedly as he looks at you two.

“Always showin’ her off any chance you get, ain’t ya, Joel?” Tommy prods jokingly with a shake of his head. You feel a stirring in your gut at the words, the chance to be something worthy of Joel to show off always seems to affect you more than you’d like to admit. In fact, you fucking love it. You crave it desperately, the need for him to tell you what to wear and dress you up like his own little toy, ready to show off to the world. It’s become a sick addiction, one you aren’t intent on giving up on. 

“Y’all just make a nice couple, that’s all,” Tommy adds on quickly. “I’ve always said that…” his voice goes quiet, and you nearly don’t make the words out.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous, brother,” Joel says, not as a challenge or an accusation, but almost teasing his little brother over the fact. 

‘’Course I am. Look what you got,” Tommy gestures around him to allude to the general concept of Joel’s house, his life, his wife.

“Oh, Tommy, you’ll find someone. I know things were hard when it didn’t work out with Theresa,” you say, gentle and sympathetic, recalling his breakup from five months ago. Tommy’s large, warm brown eyes, so much like Joel’s, find yours. He nods, the pain still apparent on his face.

Tommy has sworn up and down that he’s moved on. In fact, he has moved on from Theresa. He just wants to find someone to share his life with. When he sees Joel having seemingly everything that he's asking for too, it punches Tommy in the gut a little bit. Not that he’d ever hold it against his brother, he knows Joel worked hard to get to where he is and does so much to keep you happy. He realizes that his time will come to settle down too, but it doesn’t make the lonely nights he spends by himself at home or drinking at the bar any less hard.

Tommy also lingers on the fact that he’s always thought his brother’s wife is fucking beautiful. Radiantly, tauntingly, mind bogglingly - a full-on head turning type of beautiful. You’re so soft, so sweet, and your gentle manner of speaking always tickles him in a way where he feels a flutter in his chest to have such a pretty young thing be so kind to him of all people. It makes him feel like he’s lucky that you’ve even chosen to acknowledge him when you’re so clearly enamored with the prize you have in front of you. 

He’d never think of you that way, he won’t allow it, but he’d be damned if it doesn’t haunt his thoughts sometimes when he happens to catch you in a moment of being particularly dulcet and submissive to his brother - letting him touch you anywhere no matter who’s looking, always whispering sweet things to each other that nobody else can hear, the way he sees your eyes glaze over unintentionally the second Joel’s hand even dares to touch you. It doesn’t help that Joel hasn’t been exactly the most closed book regarding his sex life with you - a few times when too many drinks were involved, he’d started going on about how good you were to him, how fucking perfect your body felt, how talented you were with your mouth. After that night, Joel seemed to be more open to off handed comments like that, and Tommy had mostly stopped minding, other than the fact it made him all the more intrigued by you. 

He’d be lying if he said all of these things haven't made his cock twitch late at night sometimes when he’s trying to sleep. He’s mostly been able to ignore the urge and replace the image with something else, not wanting to pay you the disrespect of palming his cock to memories of you. He’d almost been too ashamed to face you again after the only time he’d ever given in, the night following a particularly warm summer day when you and Joel had Tommy and some coworkers over for a barbecue. You’d been wearing the most stunning, tiny little sundress, and the peek of a white lace bra accidentally poked above the neckline a few times. Tommy had tried to avert his eyes, but found them grazing back that way, anyways. It was like a magnetic pull, that day - the hem of the dress rode up as you’d bent down to get drinks out of the cooler, and Tommy did his best not to make it obvious when he nearly split the inside of his lip when he bit down too hard on it.

Sitting here in Joel’s office, seeing the way you’re sitting on his lap like you’re waiting for a command from him at any second sends Tommy’s thoughts reeling. He is fucking jealous, and Joel knows it. In fact, Joel’s practically dangling it right in front of him. 

“Thank ya, sweetheart,” Tommy finally replies to you. “Know I will… it’s just…” he trails off, not sure if he should admit the next part for fear of how you two will perceive him. Hell, he is with family after all.

“We’re here for ya,” Joel murmurs, giving his brother a half smile to encourage him to share if he feels comfortable.

“Just… I’m so damn lonely,” Tommy spits out, letting a sigh escape with the words. You fight an urge to reach out to Tommy - he looks so dejected and sad, admitting such a hard truth right there in front of you and Joel. He’s a great guy, though, and you have no doubt he’ll find the right girl if he has a little patience, something you’ve told him several times over. 

“Want what you have, y’know?” he adds on, making eye contact with Joel for a brief moment.

You feel Joel sit back on the chair slightly, the mesh backing pressing softly with both of your weights. He lets out a contemplative noise, never stopping his absentminded strokes along your skin. It’s so calming, you’re nearly feeling like a tamed cat, especially with the way you’re comfortably tucked onto his lap right now. When you glance up at Joel after he makes another sound, there’s a glint in his eye that you recognize, and your eyebrows fly together in quick confusion. A small, sly grin pulls at his lips before he opens his mouth again.

“You want my wife, Tommy?” he drawls, the words slow and thick off his tongue, and Tommy’s head shoots up from where he was looking at his feet, his head cocking to the side again.

“Wh- what’re you talkin’ about? N-no, that’s not to say, she isn’t… uh…” Tommy stutters out, blinking rapidly, facial features twitching as his mouth pops open and closed. 

“Think she’s beautiful though, don’t ya?” Joel asks, cupping your cheek in one of his hands, turning your head to look him in the eye. Your own go wide, trying to avoid darting them out of Joel’s heavy stare as your breathing picks up. You decide not to say anything, you’re nearly too stunned to speak anyways with the turn this conversation has taken.

“Well… uh, ‘course I do, Joel. She’s a beauty. Told you that the day I met her, and on your wedding day. You’re a lucky man… of course…” Tommy continues to choke on his own words, unsure of what the hell has gotten into Joel. He glances uncomfortably between you and Joel, desperately hoping one of you starts explaining things. 

“So we wanna help you out, don’t we, doll?” Joel nudges you softly. “Help Tommy feel a little less lonely?”

When you finally understand exactly what Joel is suggesting, you blink as your head jerks back in surprise, eyes wide and uncertain. You look to Joel for confirmation and he gives you a curt nod before bringing a hand up to nuzzle against your cheek another time. You find yourself instantly calming down, melting into the touch and able to think straight for a moment to process his proposition.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? Twice the cock in one night?” Joel brings his thumb to your mouth, swiping it across your bottom lip, an invitation for your lips to part for him. You loosen your jaw and his thumb hooks inside, pulling your lip down even further. Your tongue juts out to it, desperate to taste him, and you start nodding dumbly as an answer to his question, feeling mesmerized by his eyes on you. It’s a heady gaze - soft but demanding - and you buckle under it each and every time. 

The more the idea sits with you, settles deep in your gut, the more you like it. You’ve always thought Tommy is handsome, with equally blessed Miller genes gracing him, and you can’t help but wonder if that extends to what’s between his legs as well. The thought of the both of them fucking you, being used for their pleasure sends a pulse of desire straight to your clit, and you try not to squirm too obviously in Joel’s lap.

“Christ…” Tommy murmurs, eyes glistening and wide, intrigued but fearful, a witness to the scene before him, so intimate and nearly graphic, the way Joel toys with your lip on his thumb.

“What’dya say?” Joel asks, turning back to Tommy, but leaving his thumb hooked in your mouth for a few moments before pulling it out and returning his hand to your back. You lick your lips at the loss, trying to get any lingering taste of him that might be left there. “She seems more’n willing, brother.”

“Joel… you - you’re sure? Wh-” Tommy starts stuttering again, but you can see it on his face as it darkens and hardens right in front of your very eyes - he’s fucking turned on right now, instantly warming up to the idea of burying himself inside of you. You can practically see the fantasies already running through his mind, the ideas he’s conjuring up in these few brief seconds. 

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure,” Joel says with an air of finality. “C’mon, up we go,” he adds to you, and you stand up on slightly stiff, shaky legs as Joel gets up behind you. Tommy stands quickly from the couch, clearly anxious as he wrings his hands in front of his stomach. 

Joel ushers you out of the room, a hand on the small of your back as he leads you out and into your bedroom with Tommy walking closely behind. Anxiety, desire, anticipation, and something entirely new and unnamed twist inside of you, making you feel nearly jittery as you enter yours and Joel’s sanctuary. Of all the things you and Joel had explored in here, bringing another person into the mix was a completely new one. It didn’t suit Joel well to share you normally, so you had to wonder what he had in mind, what benefit he gained from this tonight.

Joel turns you around to face him and grasps at your hands, holding them tightly. “Why don’t ya go put on somethin’ pretty for us. How ‘bout that robe I got ya a few months back, know Tommy’d love to see it on ya.”

Your heart flutters a bit but you nod confidently. “Sure, be right back,” you coo with a little smirk, sliding out of Joel’s grasp and going into the walk-in closet, rifling through the hangers until you find the robe Joel had picked for you - a sheer black material, not completely see through, but enough that there’s a clear view of your nipples and all of your curves as it lays wrapped around you. 

You can hear hushed tones of the two brothers speaking outside the door, making out bits of Joel and Tommy’s conversation.

“Er, you pick out this stuff often?” Tommy asks, clearly intrigued.

You can only assume Joel is nodding with a smug look on his face, knowing him. “Most times, I let her know what I wanna see on her.”

“Damn,” Tommy murmurs quietly in amazement. “Been a while since we done this, huh?” 

You furrow your brow as you tie the robe loosely around your now naked body. Did this mean that Joel and Tommy had experience with having the same partner at once? Your head starts to spin a little with the new information, so you open the closet door and step out, ready to get answers from them. They both swing their heads to take you in - a vision in the sheer material with hair falling gently and slightly messy from the way you’d torn your top over your head. They’re both perched on the edge of the bed, facing the closet, expecting you.

“You’ve done this before?” you ask before you can stop yourself, before either of them can get a word in.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Joel says, patting his lap. You cross your arms for a moment, pursing your lips to the side, just wishing he’d answer the simple question you’d presented him. Instead, unable to help yourself when he asks anything of you, you unfold your arms and pad over to him, settling over one of his knees.

“Long time ago, nothin’ for you to be concerned about. Couple’a times in our early twenties, ain’t that right, Tommy?” Joel says, a hand spreading his thick, long fingers over your thigh and squeezing.

“Right. Not often, just a few crazy nights we had out at the bars. N-nothin’ like this…” Tommy says, adding the last part on quickly, as if it made up for some fear you had. 

“This is different. So generous of you, honey.” Tommy’s hand covers your other thigh, giving it a squeeze as well, and you start to feel a bit overwhelmed at the prospect laying before you. Your body fighting between desire and fear, the unknown of this door you were opening right now. You knew how you felt after Joel fucked you to the point you’d feel used, nothing but a plaything for him, and not much gave you more satisfaction than that. But how would you feel with Tommy? Would it feel degrading, or just as sinfully delicious as it does with Joel?

“Happy to help out, handsome” you say, looking between the two men seated so close to you. You offer Tommy a sweet smile, bowing your head slightly as a response and his grip on your thigh tightens with need as he blushes. Your own skin starts to burn where the two Miller brothers’ hands hold you, their fingers pressing hard into your plush flesh. 

Joel nuzzles your neck, sending goosebumps along your entire body and Tommy reaches forward with his other hand, touching the fabric of your robe on the end of the sleeve. 

“Y’look so pretty in this, sweetie. See why Joel picked it out. You’d look pretty in anything though, wouldn’t ya?” Tommy rambles, eyes darting all over your body, seeing past the sheer material to your skin. You can hear he’s still slightly nervous, but gaining confidence by the second as his finger trails up the sleeve of your robe now. 

“She does,” Joel answers as you look down, cheeks warming at their dual compliments. “Wanna start by showin’ off a bit for him, huh, little doll?” Joel says quietly against your ear, still loud enough for Tommy to hear, but private enough that it still feels like your own conversation with your husband. 

You nod, breath hitching somewhere in your throat with the nerves. “Y-yes, let him see how good you are to me,” you whisper quietly, and you catch Tommy’s eyes going a little wide. 

Joel starts to scoot on the bed until he’s leaning his back against the headboard, and you follow his lead, letting him position you between his legs as they stretch out in front of him. You settle in between them, facing outwards and resting yourself against Joel’s solid torso, relaxing back with an over dramatic sigh. 

“Open those legs, we gotta show Tommy how pretty you are now,” Joel says, quiet and calm. You silently obey, letting your legs fall open, becoming relaxed and pliable for him. Joel picks each one of your legs up and spreads them even further, fully crossing each one over his own thighs. You’re grateful your robe is still covering enough that you’re not entirely exposed to Tommy yet, wanting Joel to ease you into it. Your nervous excitement is growing, but the way Tommy is looking at you hungrily, and Joel’s already slightly erratic breathing right above your head are making your head spin. This is really happening.

You’ve started shaking slightly without even realizing it, not enough that Tommy could see, but Joel has picked up on it from his proximity to you. He starts rubbing your thigh soothingly with one hand, the other cupping around your chin and cheek, pulling your head back against his chest, tilting it up for you to look him in the eyes.

“You get nervous, you just look right at me, right here, mkay?” he whispers quietly, a gentle stroke on your cheek with his thumb and that was all you needed - this one look, this one reassurance from him that it was all going to be okay. You know Joel, you trust him with everything you’ve got, and he would never let this be anything but an incredible experience for you. You suddenly grin with determination, and Joel returns it with a devious smile of his own, seeing that you’re ready.

“Think I wanna show Tommy how gorgeous you are under here, hm?” Joel coos, now projecting his voice for Tommy to hear at the end of the bed where he’s perched, anxiously waiting. Joel’s fingers tease the belt of your robe, and you can practically feel the bated breath in the room as he tugs it slowly, starting to drive you mad with anticipation for his touch. 

Joel gently pulls the two sides of the robe apart on top, revealing your breasts, nipples erect and begging to be touched. 

“Fuck…” you hear Tommy murmur, and he shifts in his spot, clearly impatient with Joel’s antics. 

“Ain’t she so beautiful like this?” Joel asks, rolling one of your nipples between his calloused fingers, and you moan quietly, back arching and ass rutting back into his crotch. He starts tweaking both nipples now, the aching buds sending pulses of desire straight to your clit.

Your eyes flutter a little and you writhe under his touch, ass grinding into the mattress, your cunt already reaching desperate levels of need for him as he continues pinching and tugging on your sensitive buds. 

“She’s so fuckin’…” Tommy breathes, “Gorgeous. Needy thing…”

Joel chuckles, the sound rumbling behind you and pulling you back to reality for a moment. You blink heavily, catching your heady gaze on Tommy’s. 

“Just you wait, y’aint seen nothing yet,” Joel answers, hands leaving your breasts and you whimper a little at the loss. Instead, he starts to pull the robe further apart, pulling it all the way to your shoulders before working his way down, slowly spreading it open to reveal you fully to Tommy - aching, glistening cunt on display. You hear both Tommy and Joel suck in air between their teeth at the sight of you, Joel looking down over your shoulder to see in between your legs. 

“Get to touch this whenever I damn well please, ain’t that somethin’, brother?” Joel muses as he brings two fingers down and slips them in between your legs, dragging them up your slit. You immediately shudder, hips lurching forward into the touch and your eyes threaten to roll back already. 

“Mmm,” you whine, a little whimpering sound escaping you as Joel works his fingers between your legs, using his index and middle finger to rub tight circles on your clit. You breathe out in relief at Joel soothing the painful ache that had been throbbing between your legs. 

“She was so needy, wasn’t she?” Joel murmurs near your ear, and you nod desperately. 

“Need you inside,” you cry, jutting your hips forward onto his fingers, begging for more. 

“Bet you do, sweet little thing,” Tommy says from down the bed, and you glance at him to see him palming the outside of his jeans. You’d already started getting so caught up in your own pleasure you’d nearly forgotten to make sure Tommy was enjoying it too. 

You lock eyes with Tommy, not letting your gaze drop from his as Joel’s two fingers slide inside of you, pressing deep. You let your lips part and jaw hang open slightly with the sensation of Joel starting to fuck you with his fingers, and Tommy is enraptured by your expression, his eyelids dropping as he frantically grasps himself through his pants. 

“What d’ya think, she been good enough to deserve a nice finger fuckin’?” Joel asks with a devious little huff of a laugh that Tommy returns. You’re left writhing, taking what you can get from Joel as his brother contemplates. 

“Looks like a fuckin’ angel to me,” he replies, eyes dipping between your legs again to watch as Joel’s fingers speed up, fucking you faster now. It’s all panting breaths and rusting fabric and the obscene wetness of your cunt ringing through the room for several moments until Joel pushes his fingers in deeper and curls them, sending your hips lifting off the bed with a wild moan as your eyes squeeze shut.

“She’s close, ain’t you little doll?” Joel says, able to read your signs like the back of his hand, seeing your expression, feeling the way you’re fluttering and tightening around his fingers.

“Yeah, make her come,” Tommy breathes out, cock straining and begging to be inside of you, or at least in his fist. “She feel good?” he asks desperately, scooting slightly closer, his eyes trained right where you’re pouring out desire for Joel, wetness coating down around his hand now.

“So good and tight, she’ll be more’n ready for you, brother,” Joel replies with a heady grunt as he shoves his fingers deep, scissoring them inside of you. You cry out, trying to peek your eyes open to see the scene around you - see the way the two of them are adoring and praising you, but you can barely think or speak when Joel pushes against your g-spot, knowing the exact way to do it to devastate you the most. You’re writhing around, slipping down his chest, unable to control the way your body chases more and more from him.

“J-joel… baby…” you cry out, whimpering and whining loudly. “Gonna c-” you say, cut off by the way you start moaning, Joel’s name falling from your lips as you come around his fingers, squeezing them as deep as you can. You tense every muscle and shake in his grasp, and Tommy watches in awe as you fall apart, convulsing pornographically in Joel’s arms, his fingers pumping in and out of you as they get covered in your creamy arousal. Tommy can hardly stand what he’s seeing, and you think you hear a distant sound of his jeans rustling, the noise of his zipper coming undone as he pulls his cock out and starts fisting it.

“Showin’ Tommy how good y’are when you come for me, aren’t ya doll?” Joel speaks low, praising you several more times as you ride out your high. 

When you come back down, slumped against Joel’s chest, he kisses your forehead and pulls his fingers out, sitting you up further. You blink heavily, seeing Tommy with his cock in his hand, pumping wildly as he takes in your fucked out eyes, heavy lidded and dazed as you stare at him, eyes traveling down his body to the length of him jutting out into his hand.

“C-can I taste…her?” Tommy asks apprehensively, his voice quiet and slightly shaky. “H-how’s she taste?”

“Like fuckin’ heaven,” Joel tells him, “Go on ahead.” Joel urges you to lay down and you obey mindlessly, still reeling from his fingers making you come as hard as they did. Something about having an audience had elevated it, made you feel even crazier for Joel, to show someone the way he makes you feel.

“Okay if I taste you, sweetheart?” Tommy asks, and you nod lazily, settling yourself down onto the mattress. “Good girl,” he adds at your response, scooting closer and rubbing a hand on your bare thigh. You twitch a little at the foreign touch but find Tommy’s fingers feel nice, calloused and a little rough like Joel’s, but there’s more apprehension in the way he moves his hand up your thigh. 

Joel sits behind your head, putting it in his lap and stroking the sides of your hair as Tommy positions himself between your spread thighs, laying flat as he scoots himself close to your warm heat. Tommy’s hands falter a little, unsure of what to do with them.

“Grab under her thighs and ass, she likes that,” Joel comments casually, and seconds later you feel the warmth of Tommy’s hands wrapping under your thighs, pushing them up slightly and grasping the soft skin there. He makes a little groan deep in his throat and dips his eyes between your legs before diving in. You feel his tongue tentatively lick up your slit and you squirm a little, still sensitive and overstimulated from Joel’s touch. 

“Fuck…” Tommy murmurs into your cunt, “Mmm, just so sweet, honey,” Tommy rambles on in between running the flat of his tongue up your slit several more times. He presses his tongue onto your clit and flicks hesitantly, gauging your reaction. You let out a small whimper, acutely aware of your husband right above you, still stroking the sides of your head. 

Tommy increases the speed of his tongue flitting along your clit and you bite back a moan, hips wriggling in his grip as your face contorts in pleasure, mouth popping open with held back noises of pleasure.

“Bein’ awful quiet, doll,” Joel says, cupping your cheek in his hand. You open your eyes wide to look up at him with concern. “S’okay, baby, want y’to enjoy what Tommy is doin’ to ya, can see you wantin’ to be loud like y’do.”

Tommy nips at your clit and you yelp a little, eliciting a smirk from Joel. “That’s right. let him hear how pretty you sound. You’d like to hear it, wouldn’t you Tommy?”

“God, yes, lemme hear her tell me how good I feel,” Tommy blurts out, his tongue darting back out and pressing into your entrance eagerly. 

“So good, Tommy,” you murmur as his tongue pushes deeper to taste you and you moan for him, mouth hanging open as repeated noises slip out of you. He’s starting to become ravenous, lapping at your cunt feverishly now and groaning excitedly. Tommy’s hips buck against the mattress, starting a steady grind against it as his cock throbs and begs him for friction.

“Think she needs some cock in her mouth though, look at it just hangin’ open,” Tommy says as he peers up from between your legs. Joel’s chuckle rings through the room and he lets out a little grunt as he readjusts behind you.

“Think y’might be right,” Joel replies arrogantly, and you tilt your head backwards to see Joel reaching for his jeans, undoing his buckle and unzipping them. When his cock springs free, you find yourself torn between the sudden pleasure between your legs as Tommy sucks your clit into his mouth and Joel’s cock slapping against your cheek. Joel moves you without pause, turning your shoulders as he positions himself to one side of your head, wrapping his hand around it to hold it up.

The head of his cock presses against your lips and you immediately grant him entry, letting it slip into your mouth to taste the saltiness and drop of precum as you swirl your tongue to gather it up. You let out a satisfied moan against his length as he pushes it in further, Joel sighing when your warm mouth envelops him. He starts thrusting rapidly, quickly filling your mouth fully and pressing far back in your throat, knowing just how far you can take him from your experience together, knowing your body so well. You gag a little, just enough that the sound sends Joel’s cock hardening even more in your mouth as he watches your eyes tear up and saliva drooling out of the corner of your mouth.

“Yeah, that’s it, you dirty little doll. Takin’ cock in that pretty mouth while gettin’ your pussy eaten, bet you love gettin’ all this attention, cock drunk little thing,” Joel huffs and you nod mindlessly as he continues to stuff your mouth full of him. Tommy is anything but forgotten, the constant feel of his tongue and facial hair starting to build the steady, familiar feeling of a climax inside of you. Your core twists and coils tightly and you begin to thrust your hips earnestly into his face, moaning around Joel’s cock as Tommy slips a finger inside of you, testing the waters.

“Hell, honey, y’feel good in there,” Tommy groans out, twisting and pumping his finger a few times. You can only make an affirmative noise with your mouth so full, urging him to continue the movements. “So eager even with that mouth all stuffed, ain’t she, tryin’ to tell me to keep goin,” Tommy muses before bringing his mouth back to your clit. 

You lose yourself completely - the steady pump of Joel’s cock in your mouth, Tommy’s fingers working inside your aching pussy, and his mouth lavishing your clit with attention, you’re a complete goner. You can only moan and writhe and let it all happen to you, relishing in every ounce of pleasure it’s giving you.

“Oh look at that, she’s close, she’s gonna come so pretty f’ya any second now,” Joel says, and you just babble around his cock in confirmation, little whimpers and moans as your skin prickles with the coming climax. Tommy takes the initiative to go even harder, his own hips still grinding into the mattress over and over as he strains to hold in his own climax before he’s had a chance to fuck you properly. Joel, sensing your oncoming orgasm, pulls out of your mouth and lets your head down onto the bed, leaving you to fully enjoy it and scream out as he knows you tend to do.

“Oh, fuck,” Tommy breathes out as he feels you start to twitch, bearing down onto his face while you shatter, your orgasm feeling like it’s bursting through you. Your blood is coursing through you quick and hot, legs trembling as Tommy grips them tightly while he lets you fuck his face to ride out your high.

“Ohhhh- my god, Tommy, fuck….” you whimper, low, forlorn moans slipping past your lips while your hips twist and buck over and over, your waves of pleasure seeming never ending just as Tommy surprises you by pushing his fingers right against the spongy part inside of you.

“Oh god, oh my god,” you yell out as Joel quickly moves to press on your lower belly, seeing that Tommy is going in for the kill, wanting to make it extra special for the both of you. You’ve started crying before you can even realize it, your hips lifted fully off the bed as you feel your cunt squeezing Tommy’s fingers, pulsing around them as the extra pressure from Joel’s hand sends you reeling. You moan out one final time, feeling your climax starting to subside but a gush escapes you, and you breathe heavily as you feel the wet mess you’ve made under your ass when it collapses back onto the bed.

Tommy catches his breath for a brief second, brushing a hand down over his mouth and chin, marveling at everything that had just happened. 

“She always such a messy girl?” he asks, and your eyes roll back in your head as you try to open them and peer at Joel as he chuckles. 

“Ain’t it jus’ beautiful?” Joel answers with amazement in his tone, never done being surprised at just how easily you can lose yourself to pleasure.

Tommy shifts from between your legs to sit next to you on the bed. “You’re so gorgeous, honey, that was perfect,” he assures you, running a hand up your arm, gentle fingers tracing the skin up to your shoulder.

“Hope so,” you murmur tiredly with a smile in his direction. You blink your eyes heavily and stretch out your arm, reaching for Joel, clawing a little at his hand and forearm, wanting him close, too.

“Joel…” you murmur, your eyes wide and pleading for him. He scoots a little closer and runs his hand up your other arm the same way Tommy is doing, and you’re practically melting, goosebumps covering your body, nipples hardening obviously for both of them to see. Tommy spies your neck and chest closer now, seeing the faded marks Joel had left on you earlier this week, and starts to go in for your neck, kissing the skin there as Joel’s hand drifts to your breasts, groping and starting to brush against your nipple. 

“Don’t fuckin’ mark her, though, hear me? Y’want her to do it to you, fine, but if you so much as leave a mark on her we’ll have trouble,” Joel snips quickly, seeing the intensity with which Tommy’s lips are attaching to the spot right under your jaw.

Tommy starts at Joel’s tone, pulling his mouth off of you and looking at him with wide eyes. “‘Course, Joel. Just let me know, don’t wanna overstep here,” he says, a ridiculous concept considering he’d just had his entire face between your legs, but you know Joel has his things that just drive him absolutely crazy, that are all for him. You grasp at Joel’s hand again, wanting his attention focused back on you again, and he looks down at you with a soft smile.

“Oh, missin’ me, sweet girl? Let’s have Tommy watch how you like to get fucked then, how about that?” he asks, and you nod excitedly, desperate for him to fill you. “How d’ya think, Tommy? Hands and knees? Fuck her good from behind?” Joel muses, eyes drifting to his brother's face for confirmation.

“She like that? Lettin’ you fuck her like that, hm, pretty girl, d’you like that?” Tommy asks, gripping your chin and turning your head towards him, flashing his eyes between you and Joel.

“Mhm,” you manage to get out, “However Joel likes it.”

“Fuck,” Tommy blurts out, shaking his head. “However Joel fuckin’ likes it, huh? Got her wrapped around your goddamn finger, brother.”

“That so?” Joel taunts you, already knowing the answer is an astounding yes for the both of you, both equally obsessed with the other. You smile shyly and nod for Tommy to see, and you catch Tommy’s hand slip back down to his cock and start gently playing with himself again.

“Hands and knees, baby,” Joel reminds you, rolling your restless body onto your belly. You arch your back and stick your ass in the air for him, balancing on your forearms. 

You whine as you feel your cunt clench around nothing, anticipating Joel’s girth fucking you until you can barely move. “Please…” you say quietly into the mattress, wriggling your ass for him. Joel’s hand grips one of the globes firmly and you feel the bed sink behind you where he positions himself on his knees.

“C’mere, if you’re so impatient then,” Joel says, roughly handling your hips with a tight squeeze on either side and yanking you towards him at the foot of the bed. He moves off the bed to stand at the edge and pulls you even closer, sliding his cock between your legs. You shudder as it slips back and forth through your slick folds a few times, gently touching your clit each time. He rubs your ass as he moves, hand roughly moving over the cheeks and gripping every so often as you squirm at his cock teasing you. His head notches at your entrance and starts to slide in, and you suck in a breath, relief flooding you at how perfectly your husband fits inside of you.

“Yeah, that’s it, take it so good, sweetheart,” Tommy comments, watching your face screw up in pleasure as Joel starts to thrust his hips, pushing more of his length in each time, grunting with the bliss of your warmth around him. 

“W-why don’t ya show Tommy your pretty mouth on his cock, now,” Joel says, stunted slightly by the way he’s starting to pound into you, hips snapping more rapidly.

You gaze up at Tommy from your low position on the mattress, pushing yourself up a little more to get level with his hips, and the smirk on his face grows at your eagerness to please him, to do what Joel says without a word. Tommy stands in front of you, his hard, aching cock tauntingly close to your lips. This is the first time you’re getting a real look at it, and Tommy certainly was also very lucky in that department, his cock long and thick just like his brother’s, only slightly smaller.  It’d be intimidating if you weren’t so used to Joel after the years you’ve been together. 

Tommy starts stroking your hair, gentle and warm with his movements as he presses himself closer to you.

“Look at you, know how to take cock like a good girl, don’t you?” Tommy coos, watching your body jolting forward with every thrust Joel makes. “Why don’t you show me how y’take two at once.”

Your tongue lolls out, encouraging Tommy forward. He slaps his cock onto your tongue a few times, heavy and dripping precum that lands there. You slide it underneath, licking along a prominent vein with the flat of your tongue before sucking the head into your mouth and Tommy groans loudly, his gentle strokes on your head quickly turning into him grabbing a handful of your hair. 

“She’s so good, Joel, already. Fuck, you lucky bastard,” Tommy breathes out, head tilting back and eyes closing in ecstasy. 

Joel grunts his agreement while he watches you sucking Tommy’s cock so obediently that it makes him feel even harder, cock throbbing for more despite already repeatedly being buried as deep as he can inside of you. 

It’s all becoming a blur to you, the way the both of them are moving inside of you, your used, overstimulated cunt taking Joel over and over, and Tommy grasping at your head now to fuck your face with more zeal. You whimper and cry as he gags you, the feeling sending your cunt clenching around Joel and you hear him hiss in pleasure from behind you.

“S-shit, n-not gonna last in your mouth like this, sweetheart,” Tommy announces suddenly, pulling out of you with a relieved sigh, clutching his sloppy, wet cock and trying to regain his composure. He moves off the bed, standing behind you with his hands against the mattress and breathing heavily. You hear shuffling of bodies and clothing, unable to see much even when you turn your head. 

Joel’s cock suddenly pulls out and you yelp desperately, your hips thrusting back into nothing when you’d expected to meet one of his movements.

“J-joel, baby wh-“ you start, completely cut off when you feel yourself being filled again, inch by inch. Warm hands grasp at your hips again but you’d know Joel’s touch anywhere, and these fingers don’t belong to him. 

“Ohhh,” you hear from behind you, a breathy grunt of satisfaction from Tommy. “Jesus, she’s perfect.”

Tommy’s cock gives you a nice stretch as he starts to move in you, slower than Joel had been. You give him a few affirmative noises, letting him know how good he feels, to urge him to keep going. 

“God, your cock feels nice,” you say, low and suggestive to him. “Faster, Tommy,” you whimper, wanting to feel him take more from you. Use you. He takes your cue and starts to move faster, starting to absolutely shatter you as you bounce with his thrusts and drop your head fully onto the mattress.

“So close already sweetie, that’s how fuckin’ good you are for me,” Tommy grunts out, rapidly chasing his high as his cock presses up to the hilt each time. “Yeah, just like that…” he whimpers, tossing his head back. 

“Damn it, if y’aint gonna make her come I’ll have to show you how,” Joel snips, clapping Tommy on the shoulder and pulling, urging him to step back from you. Tommy complies reluctantly, but he knows better than to protest what Joel is saying.

“Shit… sorry,” Tommy says, panting. “G-got caught up.”

“Can’t blame ya, know it’s been a while. She ain’t happy till I blow my fuckin’ load anyways,” Joel replies casually, as if he’s talking about something as simple as the weather. “I’ll take care of that, then she’s all yours.”

“How we doin’, doll?” Joel asks you, leaning forward on the bed to come face to face with you.

“So good, baby,” you answer with a little smile. “I need someone to put their cock back inside me, though,” you add on teasingly, and the proud smirk Joel gives you alone makes this entire night worth it. 

Joel presses his lips to yours, quickly grasping at the back of your head as he swipes his tongue along your bottom lip in a few passionate kisses. “Want my cum inside you, my pretty girl? That it? Getting impatient?”

You nod enthusiastically and flutter your eyelashes at him. “Please,” you whine, shaking your ass in invitation to him again. 

Joel slides back off the bed to position himself behind you again, putting one hand on your back and another one curling his fingers around your hip. “Y’wanna have her jus’...” Joel says to Tommy, pressing your back down and tilting your hips up slightly. “Like this,” he finishes, driving himself back into you, filling you until he knows he’s about to hit you right where you want him to and then jerking himself in harder. You gasp, legs immediately starting a gentle tremble as you feel the head of his cock hitting the spongy part inside of you and retreating just to go in again harder and harder each time he thrusts his hips back into you.

“Look at that…” you hear Tommy mumble from behind you, watching your face crumple and mouth open to cry out in pleasure as you start to feel yourself tumbling towards your climax already, Joel having known exactly what to do to get you there.

Your body melts, becoming completely compliant and yielding to Joel’s cock as you practically collapse onto the bed. Your legs give out, shaking uncontrollably from the complete stimulation on your g-spot over and over, and when Joel reaches his hand around and starts to rub your clit, you fold completely, crying out as tears start to pool in the corners of your eyes, squeezed shut, and slide down your cheeks.

Joel’s name rolls off your tongue in hurried, moaning cries as he buries his fingers deep into the plushness of your hips and ass, squeezing hard enough to bruise while his own motions start to stutter. You pulse around him, your body trying to pull his own climax out of him, wanting to feel him claim you in front of Tommy with one thing you know Joel will deny him.

“Yeah, little doll, keep squeezin’ and see what happens,” he mumbles, lost in the moment as he erratically shoves his cock into you, panting heavily. You keep convulsing back into him, hips rocking with your waves of pleasure and Joel gives you the growling, grunting combination that means he’s about to fill you any moment.

“Give you all this come, that what you want?”

“Y-yes, please, Joel, gimme what I want,” you beg, starting to come down from your climax with a few stray flutters of your cunt that finally send Joel reeling, his hips stalling as his cock pushes fully into you, deep as he can go. 

“Fuckin’ mine, my pretty wife,” Joel grunts out breathlessly as he comes hard, his head thrown back and eyes struggling to stay open and trained on the way your cunt is stretched open for him, taking everything he’s spilling out for you. You sigh and relax slightly, feeling the contentment you always do whenever Joel fills you like this. 

You don’t have long to breathe before Joel is pulling out of you and glancing at an eager Tommy. 

“Tommy’s been very patient, doll, so you’re gonna be so good for him, ain’t ya? Come nice and pretty f’him, mkay?” Joel says, giving your ass an encouraging little slap and quick squeeze. 

“‘Course I will, baby,” you respond to Joel. You turn your head to look at Tommy, who’s started moving to where Joel had just been standing behind you. “Been dying to feel more of you, handsome,” you say to him, and Tommy’s face hardens, cheeks flushing and eyes blown out with desire for you. You catch a glimpse of his cock, looking painfully hard, red and dripping precum before it disappears out of your view as he steps behind you.  

“Fuck, lemme get in that messy little hole then, sweetheart,” Tommy grits out desperately. “Like this, wanna see you when I fill you up,” he says, pushing you down onto the bed and rolling you onto your back. You can feel his hands shaking slightly as they go to grab onto you and position himself in frantic movements, sliding his cock and practically missing your entrance before he shoves himself in.

“No comin’ inside her, you hear me?” Joel says abruptly, still out of breath. “She likes it anywhere, so pick a spot y’like.”

Tommy nods, seeming to half hear Joel as he immediately gets lost in the feeling of thrusting into you. You can feel the obscene wetness of everything - your own cum and Joel’s being pushed back into you by Tommy’s cock over and over, feeling it squelching out around his girth as it stretches you again. 

“Mmm,” you moan out quietly, turned on by the thought of how messy things are right now, just how wrong this whole situation has been. 

“Feel good, beautiful? Gonna make you come all over this cock,” Tommy says, his dark eyes piercing into yours with determination. He hoists both of your legs up to his shoulders so that you’re starting to fold in on yourself when he bends forward slightly. The change in angle makes your breath hitch as he hits deep inside of you.  

He leans far enough down for his mouth to start kissing the skin along your chest, pepping kisses all the way to one of your nipples. You’re completely folded in half at this point as Tommy starts to suck on your hardened nipple, and you try to arch your back to no avail with the way he has you pinned. You throw your head back, neck elongated as your eyes roll back and you moan loudly for him. 

“Yeah, Tommy,” you whimper, which seems to set him off even more to hear his name on your tongue as he groans and pounds into you harder, his breath panting against your chest and he tries to swirl his tongue around your nipple. 

“Want me to touch your pretty little clit? Make you come all over me like the nasty little girl you are?” Tommy says into your tits and you nod eagerly. 

“Be polite now, doll,” you hear Joel say from next to you as he clambers onto the bed and settles himself behind your head. “Say please.”

“P-please,” you say. “Make me come, Tommy.” Joel strokes your head in response to your obedience, smoothing the hair on the sides of your head before moving his hands to your cheeks, stroking them lovingly. 

“So obedient and sweet, aren’t you?” Tommy replies, starting to roll his hips a little more with each thrust. With the way your bodies are crammed together, the curls at the base of his cock are starting to brush against you and you shudder at the rolling movements stimulating your clit.

Tommy seems to lose himself, his mouth falling off your tits as he focuses on the way he’s moving his hips into you, intent on chasing the pleasure you’re getting from it. Joel quickly replaces Tommy’s mouth with his hands, reaching over your shoulders to start tweaking your nipples with his fingers, rolling and pinching them rapidly. Your body wants to writhe and lift and fucking move with all the stimulation you’re receiving, but you’re stuck, pressed down and can only take what the two men are giving to you. 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you start to moan, bouncing your hips up rapidly into Tommy’s thrusts.

“That’s it,” he coos, his eyes locked on your face, watching the way your cheeks are glowing with arousal. You feel your insides want to pull taught again, almost painfully after already coming three times now. Your body wants to give up and keep going at the same time, and you feel an almost straining sensation when you chase this orgasm. It makes you feel mad, insane, as your insides warm up and tense, tingling starting from where Tommy is brushing against your clit and spreading to where Joel’s fingers grope at you and pull on the hardened buds on your tits.

“P-please, it’s too much,” you whimper as Joel pulls harder on your nipples, sending you yelping. “I wanna…,” you say quietly, feeling tears prick at your eyes. “I need…” You don’t know what you’re trying to express, all you can feel is this insatiable clawing inside of you, begging to be released.

“S-such a good girl, always thought you’d be beautiful just like this with a cock inside of you,” Tommy spits out, caught up in the moment. You open your eyes back up and lock them on his, seeing how desperate he looks, how fucked out he is on your cunt and it sends you reeling, completely drunk on the feeling. 

Your body responds with a final snap of the tension that had been twisting inside of you, letting go completely. Your eyes squeeze shut and you let out moaning sobs, your body overworked and overstimulated but still finding so much pleasure that you’re shaking hard underneath Tommy. You clutch at his forearms, grasping on tightly and digging your nails in as you let this complete bliss take over you once more tonight. Joel pulls his hands off of your chest, wrapping them around your face again and holding you there, his thumb popping into your open mouth and toying with your lower lip.

“Oh, that’s it, fuck,” Tommy says, riding you through your climax. “Tight, pretty little thing squeezing me.” You moan for him again, finally feeling yourself coming back down, unable to move or open your eyes yet as you relax back a bit.

Tommy breathes heavily, panting as his hips start to move erratically, stuttering. “I-I’m close,” he announces, suddenly fucking into you the hardest he has all night, using your spent cunt to finish getting himself off. “Oh, f-fuck, her face, her face,” he says desperately. “Open up,” he says to you before he pulls out and throws your shaking legs off of his shoulders and grasps you by the torso, pulling you as close as he can to the edge of the bed. He quickly straddles you and you peek your eyes open to see him jerking on his shiny cock, slick with your creaminess before he releases. You open your mouth quickly and catch what lands there, salty and thick, half of it spreading across your face as he shakes his cock with a few more quick jerks, groaning loudly for you.

“F-fuuuuck,” Tommy cries out, throwing his head back as he finishes his spill. He takes a few beats with his eyes heavy and closed before swinging his leg over you, collapsing onto the bed and tucking himself back into his pants.

Joel disappears for a moment, coming back and holding a damp washcloth that he hands to  Tommy. He rolls onto his side, laying next to you and dabbing the warm cloth onto your face to clean you up. You feel your lips curl up a little at the gesture, peering at Tommy and finding you feel oddly at ease.

“All clean now, sweetheart,” Tommy says before getting off the bed. You slink yourself back towards the headboard, exhausted and wanting nothing more than to crawl under the covers and get comfortable.

“Give us a minute, then I’ll see ya out, okay?” Joel says to his brother, standing with his hands on his hips.

“‘Course,” Tommy says before approaching where you lay again. He places a gentle kiss on the top of your head, cupping your cheek in the process. “Thank you, darling. You’re perfect, thank you,” he gushes quietly, thumb brushing against your cheek a few times before he pulls away. 

“B-bye, Tommy,” you stutter, unsure of how else to respond now that it’s all said and done. You start to realize that a time will come when you have to see the younger Miller brother in the light of day again and your stomach twists. Will it be uncomfortable now? Awkward? Will he be able to make eye contact with you ever again now that he’s felt what it’s like to be buried so deep in your cunt that you see stars?

You don’t want anything to change - you love having Tommy around, and love how much Joel loves his baby brother. You also realize you feel like an appropriate reaction here would be shame, but you can’t find even a scrap of it inside of yourself. You feel satisfied, thrilled, even, by the events of the evening. You roll over a little as Joel sits down next to you on the bed once Tommy leaves the room.

“How’s my pretty little wife, hm? You okay?” your husband asks, voice deep and honeyed, and you nod, letting a lighthearted grin pull at your lips.

“Really good,” you tell him. “I’m happy.”

Joel seems to breathe out a small sigh of relief. “Knew you would like that,” he says teasingly, giving you a wink. “Bet you’re all worn out though.”

You nod again, letting your smile drop a little. “Yeah, just sleepy now,” you say with a little shrug.

“I’m gonna see Tommy out, then let me grab some things f’ya. You don’t move a muscle, just lay here and rest. Got it?” Joel says seriously, and you tell him he doesn’t have to ask you twice, which gets a smile out of him.

You feel yourself start to doze a bit, unsure of how much time has gone by when Joel re-enters the room with his hands and arms full, rustling noises from everything he’s carrying prompting you to open your eyes back up.

He sets a cup of steaming chamomile tea, your favorite, on the nightstand next to where you’re curled up, offloading his hand so he can dump his spoils onto the bed. You look to see all of the candy and snacks you’d gotten for the two of you for the movie watching that had become long forgotten in everything that happened tonight.

“Thought we should still put on a movie, even if y’fall asleep,” Joel says, planting a kiss on your lips before climbing back onto the bed and grabbing the remote for the TV that sits on the dresser across from the bed.

“That sounds nice, baby,” you tell him, sitting yourself up a little, wrapping the sheet around your still naked body and snuggling closer to him. 

“Before we start, I talked to Tommy, and I’m thinkin’... if you want to too, we might do that once and a while, hm? Just here and there. while he’s feelin’ a bit lonely - help him have fun, get a lil’ more confident again,” Joel explains.

“Oh,” you say bluntly, thinking for a moment. You really hadn’t even thought that far, if this would be more than one night for the three of you. “Okay. I mean, yeah, I think I’d like that. He was…” you trail off shyly, and Joel nudges you.

“S’okay, you can say. I know you had a good time, and ‘sides, you’ll never want any other cock like y’want mine, already know that,” he says lightly, and you chuckle.

“Of course not, I’d never let anyone be with me the way you do,” you say, “But Tommy was… nice, really good. And I want to help him.”

Joel turns to kiss you deeply, lips melting into yours with gratitude and love. “Just say the word, and we’ll stop it. But ‘till then…” He gives you a slightly sinister smile that you return with a more shy smirk of your own. “How’s next month sound?”

“Perfect.”

taglist: @aphterthoughtt @bbyanarchist @amy172 @hazzaismyreligion @ohheypedrito

[joelsdaggersarchive]

i am utterly losing my mind over this series julie. HOLY SHIT. I AM SO FUCKING OBSESSED WITH HOW OBSESSED HE IS WITH HER.

“Almost like you didn’t want me to make you come this morning, all this damn clothing in the way,” he tuts, snapping the waistband of your thong hard into your hip. You wince at the sensation but it only serves to make you even more wet for him

this made me giggle so bad oh my god he’s so needy and annoying and i want him

pretty little wife | morning glory

joel x f!reader one shot collection

part two of pretty little wife — can be read independently series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 4.3k words — saturday mornings in the miller household are for a few things only, and most of them include joel making his wife come as many times as he damn well pleases. | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names for reader, cute husband joel, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you! a/n: i'm literally so blown away by the attention the first part of this got like WOW i'm so glad you all loved reading it as much as i did writing it! here's another snippet in their domestic bliss, and stay tuned for some ~interesting~ developments in the next part

i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡

As much as you love Friday nights, the day Joel comes home pent up from a week of work and fucks it all out onto you, you love Saturday mornings even more. 

Saturdays are for you Joel always says, and he starts this particular Saturday by waking you with kisses on the forehead and a fresh, steaming cup of coffee on your nightstand, one you can smell before you can even see it. He insists that after a long week of making meals, keeping the house spotless, your book club, nurturing your friendships, and keeping up with his insatiable need for you, you deserve one morning that’s completely for you, where Joel is happy to service you in multitudes.

You grumble and squeeze your eyes shut tighter as you feel his lips press onto your cheek again, and Joel laughs at your insolence. 

“Know y’don’t like to sleep past eight, honey,” Joel comments as you continue to resist his attempts to wake you up. 

“I knoooow,” you whine. “Mostly your fault I was up so late,” you add on, grumbling and recalling the way Joel had kept you up, insisting he keep filling you over and over. From the moment he got home until late in the night, somehow he’d managed to come three times, torturously edging you then making you come between them. Some days you truly wonder where the hell he gets the stamina from, how a man of his age can act like he’s twenty years old some nights. Anytime you ask, he just says that you make him absolutely fucking crazy, nothing more to it. It’s a miracle the two of you found each other, someone that can keep up with him just as well as he can with you. 

“You’d like it better if I didn’t fuck you when I want then, hm? Get you all fucked out like last night?” he asks, his voice with a grating edge that’s between a threat and teasing. You make it a point to peek your eyes open at him finally, letting him see the fear in them at that prospect. 

“N-no,” you shake your head wildly, eyes going wider as you fully wake up. “Of course not.”

“Thought so,” he says before leaning forward to kiss you, a sly smile dancing on his lips as you look over at him, perched on the bed next to you. He’s laying on his side, propped up on one elbow as he takes you in, his eyes full of mischief as they tend to be in the mornings. 

“You know I have to give you a hard time when you act like you did last night,” you tell him, and Joel considers your words with a grin. 

“I know ya do. Wasn’t too much last night, right?“ he asks. You always appreciate that Joel checks in like this, especially when he knows he’s gone further than the average day. And last night… he’d shown you just how long his week had felt, and how much he needed to make up for the lost time he’d had working late a few nights. 

You shake your head sternly in reply. “Not at all,” you say sweetly, and Joel’s face relaxes before he leans in for another kiss that you gladly return. 

“That’s my good girl. Your coffee’s over there,” he says, head gesturing towards the mug, despite every Saturday being the same with your coffee always on the nightstand when you wake up.

“Thank you, baby.” A flash of a grateful smile from you is all your husband needs, and you can see him melt a little bit at it. 

You sit yourself up against the headboard, the sheet falling you reveal the top of your silky camisole trimmed in lace, a beautiful mauve color. Joel’s eyes catch on the skimpy fabric, one strap slipping down your shoulder, and he smiles, his eyes shading darker, watching as you reach for your coffee and start to sip on it. It’s perfect, a splash of your favorite creamer just to give it a little sweetness, and you send a grateful thought into the universe that Joel knows you so perfectly well. 

“I see that look you’re giving me,” you say, giving him a close lipped smile over the top of your mug, eyes flashing at him with intrigue.

“How’s it different from any other Saturday? Y’know it’s all about you today,” he says matter-of-factly. 

You chuckle and shake your head playfully. “Can’t a girl enjoy her coffee for a few minutes?” you tease him, and Joel makes a quiet, nearly growling sound in his throat before sitting up and moving to straddle your legs. 

“Y’can certainly try, but you ain’t gonna be able to hang onto that mug for long, or do much of anything but come for me,” Joel says, and you find yourself losing your breath slightly at his words despite hearing much more filthy things coming from his mouth in the time you’ve been together. 

“How many times this morning, then?” you ask tauntingly, taking another long sip from your mug before setting it back safely on the nightstand.

Joel’s eyebrows raise a bit before he slides himself further down on your legs, taking the sheet with him. You shiver a little at your skin being exposed to the air, the only thing covering you being your thin camisole and shorts set. Joel takes you in with hungry eyes, the way your body responds to being exposed with a smattering of goosebumps.

“As many times as I want, doll, y’know that,” he says. His fingers find their way to the silky hem of your shorts, passing the material through his fingers and inspecting it for a few seconds. 

“Don’t know why y’even bothered to put this on after I was finished with you last night,” Joel muses, eyes traveling up the fabric until he reaches your chest, where your hardened nipples are starting to poke through the silk. “Just gonna take it right off this mornin’. Maybe rip it…” His head tilts cockily as his other hand slides up your smooth thigh slowly, tortuously. You arch your back slightly, lips parted with an oncoming whimper, showing him how much you want it. 

“Am I not supposed to wear all the pretty things you buy me?” you retort back, low and still husky with sleep. “And rip this one? It’s my new favorite,” you say with a frown, trying to sound whiny and desperate enough to convince him to spare this pajama set. 

Joel has quite an affinity for coming home with new lingerie and sexy sleepwear for you, strolling into the house after work with a boutique store bag, the contents inside shrouded with pretty paper. He’s given you countless slips, bras, thongs, garters, or any style of lingerie he finds that he wants to see you in. You tear them open with equal delight each time, something to replace the things that are ruined in one of Joel’s many other affinities - tearing your lingerie off of you. Whenever you gripe about it he promises to replace it with something even better. So far, he hasn’t failed, always spoiling you with something gorgeous each and every time.

Joel’s head leans forward, burying into your chest, settling between your breasts and inhaling deeply. “I know… you love this one…” he says, breath hot on the dip of skin between your tits, sending your already hardened nipples straining further through the fabric. 

“Maybe I can get the same one, should still be for sale.” He begins kissing the soft skin there, goosebumps spreading across your body as his warm lips clash with the curve of your breast. You can feel his hands start to grip the bottom edge of the fabric, pulling it tight, desperate to rip it off of you. 

“Better be. And a new set of panties to match it,” you bargain with him, and Joel glances up with a wide smirk, loving when you show him your more feisty side. His head dips back down, tongue finding your silken covered nipple and flicking it a few times before sucking it into his mouth. You arch into him, moans of his name spilling from your lips. He sucks until you can feel the surrounding fabric getting soaked, and you’re writhing wildly under his large frame, begging him. 

“Please, baby… I need it,” you whine out, and Joel pulls his head off of your chest, a string of his saliva still connecting him to your shirt for a few moments. His eyes are lustful now, darkened a few shades by your body’s response to him.

“Need what, little doll?” he asks bitingly, almost condescendingly. 

“Touch me, Joel.” Please, please, please. You beg in your head, nearly having to stop yourself from reaching between your legs and touching your clit yourself. 

“Be a patient girl for me now,” he counters, and you feel your cunt clench around nothing at his commanding words, desperate for him to ravage you in any way he sees fit. 

Joel places his hands on either side of your waist, his lips moving to start work on your other nipple, sucking and biting on it through the fabric. When both are thoroughly abused, swollen and aching from his mouth, you’re sure that you’ve soaked right through your panties to your shorts. You can feel your cunt pulsing, aching, the feeling spreading deep within you as you breathlessly pant, your hips twitching in desperation. 

“Fine, fine,” Joel says, breathing out an amused laugh. “Let’s see what you’ve got on under here.” 

His hands hook around your pajama shorts and yank them down, exposing the cotton thong you’d put on. Maybe Joel had been right, you should have just stayed naked last night - you’d likely be halfway to an orgasm by now if he hadn’t gotten distracted with all your clothing.

“Almost like you didn’t want me to make you come this morning, all this damn clothing in the way,” he tuts, snapping the waistband of your thong hard into your hip. You wince at the sensation but it only serves to make you even more wet for him.

“P-please -“ you beg, barely able to get any other word out but that same one over and over. 

“Baby… jus’ fuckin’ soaked….” Joel muses with an amazed sound to his voice. “Even after last night, just a little suckin’ on your pretty tits get you like this? Fuckin’ drippin’ through your panties, little doll.”

You writhe as his fingers toy with your nipple while he talks, the other hand swiping across the front of your underwear to take in just how badly you’re wanting him. 

“Yes - y-yes it does,” you answer dutifully, and Joel smiles ear to ear.

“Wet f’me all the time, ain’t you? Ready whenever I need this tight little pussy,” Joel grits out, giving your sopping cunt a swift slap and repositioning himself between your legs, letting his head dip down. You nod wildly in response, murmuring more begs of “please” as he nears torturously close to your warm heat. 

“Need a taste of this, bet you’re so fuckin’ sweet right now,” Joel says, his mouth now inches from your cunt. You nearly cry at the anticipation, hips pushing towards him, your throbbing clit begging your body for any kind of relief. 

Joel’s surprises you by dipping his mouth to you, but he licks a strip up the outside of your underwear, dulling the sensation for you. You still moan loudly, so desperate to feel any part of him touching you in between your legs. He continues to lick along the fabric, pushing his tongue down hard to reach your slit through your panties before he starts sucking on your clit. 

“Wh- my underwear, Joel… please….” you moan out, mostly incoherent now, feeling a dull pleasure starting to build deep inside of you. 

“And let all this go to waste?” Joel replies, sucking the fabric into his mouth just to taste what you’d already spilled out for him. “Don’t think so, darlin’.”

You flutter your eyes when his tongue pokes into your entrance, the fabric adding an extra layer of texture to all the sensations that’s driving you absolutely wild. It’s pulling you closer and closer to the precipice, to the edge where you now sit teetering as Joel’s tongue makes contact with your clit again, rubbing your panties against it as he flicks there. 

He groans out loudly at the taste of you in his mouth, the way your panties keep getting more soaked between his own saliva and all the arousal you’re gathering there from the way his tongue is moving on you. 

“I’m- oh, Joel, fuck, don’t stop,” you whine, hips starting to stutter into him. You arch your back slightly, chasing your high with just a few small jerks of your hip. “I’m so close…” you say breathlessly, frustration boiling in your blood that you’re not quite there yet. You start squirming needily and Joel moves quickly, throwing your legs over his shoulders and pushing back on your thighs so that your legs are pressed close to your body. You can feel even more how much you’re soaked, absolutely dripping as it slides down onto your ass, the sheets below you. 

“Come for me, baby, y’can do it, so fuckin’ pretty and wet for me. Be my good little wife and come for me,” Joel praises quickly into your cunt before sucking hard, pulling your clit into his mouth and pressing a finger against your entrance, pushing your panties into it and pumping shallowly in and out a few times. 

You snap at his praising words, desperate to do good for him, to follow anything he wants from you and you finally feel the tension in your belly coil so tightly that it breaks, sending you careening into your high. 

“F-fuck, oh, Joel, baby,” you whine out with long, low moans, shaking as your body goes taut and vision goes white. You shudder and writhe into his mouth as he keeps a steady pressure on your clit and moves his fingers rapidly on your hole.

“Good girl, fuck, such a good girl, let’s do another,” Joel says as soon as he feels you coming down, and moves quickly, his tongue darting around the edge of your panties and sliding underneath, one finger pulling the fabric aside.

You nearly scream his name, the overstimulation coupled with his now direct contact with your most sensitive parts has you absolutely reeling. You pant heavily, trying to scoot your body away, but Joel’s hold on your legs is tight, his own tension starting to build underneath his sweatpants. 

His tongue buries in you, lewdly lapping and slurping at every last drop of your come that he can as he groans in pure pleasure at the taste.  He’s getting more aggressive, his need for you climbing as you rush towards another high. 

“Fuck, gimme this tight little pussy,” Joel murmurs, his heaving breaths against your skin. He quickly starts to tear your panties, and through your haze you hear the ripping of fabric and seams, laying with your legs still pressed up against your body, held up for Joel to see between your legs clear as day. You feel like complete jelly, nothing reaching your mind but Joel Joel Joel and the pleasure he’s giving you. 

He dives back in after you feel the torn panties laying open and limp against your thighs, his teeth nipping at your clit here and there, sending your hips twitching and little yelps flying out for your mouth. 

“Need something’ in here, don’t you? Can feel you desperate, squeezin’, want my big fingers in there,” he says, more of a statement than a question, but you find yourself nodding dumbly, figuring that Joel seems to have known best up until this point, so no use in questioning it now.

He takes the liberty of pushing three fingers inside of you, giving you no chance to adjust, pumping them in and out a few times and then immediately hooking them to find the spongy part of your walls. Your breath catches, and you find it hard to get air into your lungs now between his mouth and fingers ruining you in tandem, making you fall to pieces. 

You can’t speak, can’t think, can only chase what he’s giving you and let out pathetic moans and mewls and he fucks you with his fingers and presses on your g-spot. You feel tears brimming in your eyes, sliding down your cheeks but you don’t care, not when every bit of you is on fire in the best way, screaming out in pleasure. 

“Hold your legs up f’me, need to fuck my fist to this, all these pretty little noises my wife makes,” Joel commands, and you do your best to keep your legs where he’s pushed them to, finding the muscles starting to tremble with the exertion and your quickly approaching climax. 

“C’can’t hold on,” you whimper as you feel Joel shimmying on the bed to sit up and pull his cock out with one free hand, the other continuing to pump in and out of you. You peek down through half lidded eyes to see his cock, so hard and raging with need that it sends a pulse of desire straight through you to your aching hole. You need him inside of you, but most Saturday mornings he’s insistent on just eating you out like this until you’re a limp, sweating, crying mess, not wanting to detract from your pleasure by using your pussy for his own.

“Let go, baby, come again f’me,” Joel coos before his tongue circles your clit again and you melt into the pleasure, letting it wrack your body once again. You hear the slap of his flesh against his cock as he pumps it, fucking his fist earnestly as he hears your cries for him while you come around his fingers, squeezing him to keep pressing on the spot that’s absolutely devastating you. 

“So fuckin’ addicted to this, gimme another, little doll, help me finish,” Joel says, sounding nearly manic as he pumps on his cock. “S-so good f’me, Christ,” he murmurs as he whimpers a little at the sight of you coming down from your climax and the feel of his own hand wrapped around his cock.

“Wanna feel you, wanna come on your cock, please… p-please…” you whine, completely dazed now. 

“Y’know…” Joel struggles to get the words out, “It’s your turn, n-not about me,” he says with a grunt, tugging hard on his cock.

“It’ll make me come, I p-promise, just fill me up,” you tell him, holding your shaking, spent legs open wider, inviting him in. You writhe at the thought of Joel being inside of you, knowing your fully displayed cunt is fluttering and squeezing at nothing right now, and Joel can see every bit of it.

“Please…” you utter quietly, and that last insistence is what sets Joel over the edge. He’s on top of you in a second, wrists grabbed into his hands and pinned next to your head as he uses his body to keep your legs held up and steady before slamming into you. You yell out in complete bliss as he fills you to the hilt without stopping in one thrust, his cock stretching you mercilessly.

“That what you needed, pretty wife? This big cock inside ya? Get it every fuckin’ day, can’t get enough though, ain’t that right?” he says, unable to stop himself from immediately thrusting into you over and over, chasing after his orgasm. You’ve noticed that Joel can have incredible self control with most things until he’s buried balls deep in you, only then does it all go out the window. You love that power you hold over him, despite giving him every ounce of power to take it whenever he wants.

“Yes, yes, Joel, fuck me,” you cry, “harder.”

“Harder? Want me t’ruin this tight little pussy, it’s all mine, all mine,” he rambles on. “Fuck, c’mere and let me fuck you like I own it.” 

He grunts as he pulls out of you with a wet pop, scrambling to flip you onto your belly and slamming back in as quickly as possible, cock hitting you so deep your eyes roll back as he presses your cervix.

You can only make wild, completely feral groaning sounds into the mattress as he fucks into you, devastating you as you see your vision spotting with white from the combination of pleasure and pain that he’s doling out. Your entire being feels supple right now, completely given over to Joel as he uses you to reach towards his own pleasure.

You whimper as your hips grind against the mattress, your sore and overstimulated clit getting even more friction than you can handle, and sure enough, you crash into another climax, your body shaking violently as Joel presses down on your back, fucking you even harder as you squeeze around his length and pull a rough, staggered grunt from him while he pumps one last time before spilling everything. Joel comes hard, pressing himself as flush as he can with your body, and you can hear his ragged breaths coming from behind you while he starts to come down. 

You both stay exactly as you are, his half hard cock still twitching inside of your cum soaked cunt, both of you struggling to get a grip back on reality. You only now realize just how tear stained your face is, several stray tears still rolling down your cheek and onto the sheets below you.

Joel gingerly pulls out of you, but you stay prone, even as he crawls up next to you, just laying flat and letting his spill drip out of you, loving the feeling of being so used, so messy for him.

You flutter your eyes open to try to look at him, and you know it must be a sight to behold. Joel thumbs one of the tears on your cheek and then pinches it gently, rubbing his thumb along the soft skin there.

“So cockdrunk, look at ya,” he says with a disbelieving shake of his head.

“Mmmm,” you manage to get out, not even sure what you’d say if you could speak right now.

“I’m gonna run you a bath, pretty girl, then we’ll get you fed.” You can only nod in return, still trying to get yourself back to the present moment as you feel the bed move when Joel slips away. You doze as you hear the water running from the adjacent bathroom, and curl up slightly just before hearing Joel pad back into the room and gently shake your shoulder.

“Let’s go, gotta take care of yourself, doll,” he insists, and you mumble as you open your eyes and start to sit up. Joel peels your sticky, sweaty camisole off, tossing it on the bedroom floor and then leading you to the bathroom. The sight and smell in here is heavenly, and you wonder why you’d even thought about resisting getting out of bed for something this incredible. Fresh lavender scents the bath along with a clean, linen scent from the candle Joel lit on the bathroom counter. Inviting steam drifts off the top of the bath and you can hardly wait to dip your foot in and soak down into it.

“Thank you, baby,” you say sweetly, turning to Joel and tilting your head up to plant a kiss on Joel’s lips. He grasps at the back of your head, pulling your head in even closer for a few long, lingering kisses. He licks into your mouth and you moan quietly, your still freshly fucked cunt unsure if it should ask for more right now, or if it even can.

“You’d let me fuck y’again right here, wouldn’t ya? Cum runnin’ down your leg still and everything,” Joel asks you, and you nod bashfully, avoiding his eyeline, knowing it’s the embarrassing truth of just how desperate he makes you.

“Christ, how’d I get this lucky, huh?” Joel answers with a crooked smile. “Get in that bath, sweetheart, y’need to rest now.” He spins you towards the tub and gives you ass a light smack, urging you forward. You chuckle and decide not to resist, knowing he’s right - your body needs a break from the wonderful man that is your husband.

“Breakfast in thirty, mkay? I’ll make your favorite,” Joel tells you, a final kiss landing on your bare shoulder before you step over the rim of the tub and you turn to see him leave the room.

You hiss a little at the immediate heat of the water, but quickly find yourself sliding down into it, a relieved sigh escaping your lips as the lavender reaches your nose and you lose yourself into the bliss your husband set up for you so lovingly.

After soaking until you’re feeling refreshed and bordering on pruny, you step out and see the outfit Joel set out for you in the bedroom, indicating that he’d had a particular preference for what he wants to see you in today. You smile as you hold up a rather non classically sexy outfit compared to your closet full of lingerie and pretty dresses - one of Joel’s old t-shirts and tiny lounge shorts that barely cover your ass. You throw Joel’s choice and relish in the scent of him surrounding you through his clothing, hugging the fabric tightly to yourself. You bound down the stairs eagerly to the smell of breakfast cooking - chocolate chip pancakes by the smell of it - and think dreamily about what another perfect Saturday morning it had been in the Miller household.

joel taglist: @bbyanarchist

[joelsdaggersarchive]

JULIE OH MY GOD. i’m finally starting this series and i am OBSESSED. HES SO FILTHY BUT SO SWEET AND IM GONNA THROW UP

“Let them see…” Joel says quietly, a heady murmur as he slips his cock between your thighs and notches himself at your weeping entrance. “Let them see how much I love fuckin’ my wife.”

JESUS JOEL PLEASE ME WHEN. he’s absolutely insane he has the filthiest mouth it actually makes my jaw drop. i am obsessed with these two and how CRAZY he is about his wife its so cute and hot omgggg

pretty little wife | better now

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 3.9k words, a snippet of a day in the life of husband! joel and his lovely housewife | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, cum play, spit kink, exhibition kink, dirty talk, pet names for reader, brief mention of alcohol, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you! a/n: not pretending this is anything other than some little fantasy i had that i needed to write out. i'm really excited about this one shot series for husband!joel though, i have some really fun (and depraved) ideas planned for these two for future blurbs so stayed tuned if you like this one! reblogs + comments are always loved and appreciated! ♡

i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡

How’s my pretty little wife today?

The words you look forward to each day, falling from your husbands lips in some form or another, whether it’s rasped tenderly in your ear, from between your legs as he smirks up at you, or from over your shoulder as he slams his cock into you, sending you to heaven and back down as soon as he can after walking in the door after work.  

Joel asks the question today after walking up behind you in the backyard, his mouth already next to your ear, warm breath tickling along your skin there as he brushes your hair over your shoulder. The wiry texture of his beard nuzzles right into your neck, sending a thrill down your spine as his arms slide around your waist and hold you tightly to him, swaying you back and forth. The motion is soothing, reminding you that you’re right where you’re meant to be.  

You can smell the workday on him - sweat and dirt and the outdoors, and the lingering scent of the cologne you’d given him this past Christmas. He’d sprayed it on this morning, as he does every morning since you bought it for him. Makes me think of you all day, he’d remind you while you’d watched from your bed with a teasing smile, sheet disheveled and draped over your naked body.

You breathe all of it in, savoring this scent unique to your husband, before touching your hand to where his rests around your belly and stroking it gently.

“Better now,” you answer. More times than not, that’s your response to his routine question, knowing it drives him wild, makes a long day of work ache a little less when he hears you say it.

“S’what I like to hear,” he says, a kiss on your neck leading up to your lips - a long, deep, ravenous kiss that already leaves you breathless. He pulls away so suddenly you nearly have whiplash, your head falling slightly into nothing, missing his lips.

“Smells good out here,” Joel comments, turning his nose up in the air slightly. “Usin’ the new pizza oven already?” 

When you’d made a passing comment about wishing you could make wood fired pizzas at home, just like the ones a restaurant in town serves, Joel seemed to take it seriously, as he did with most things involving your wishes and desires. The next weekend, he’d hauled in bricks and began his work. You’d stepped out into the yard when you heard all the commotion, giving him a quizzical stare, and he’d simply grinned and shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world that he should be building his wife a pizza oven. You’d nearly teared up, feeling grateful and giddy with excitement at your new toy to experiment with. 

Within a few weekends, Joel had finished his new project, always seeming to need one to have around the house, wiping the sweat off his forehead and gleaming with pride at it as he showed you the final product. You’d practically jumped for joy but settled on flinging yourself into his arms to show your appreciation. When that had turned into him fucking you on top of the kitchen counter moments later after he went inside to fetch a cold drink, you hadn’t minded one bit.

“I couldn’t wait,” you say with a grin. When Joel nuzzles your neck again you start to lose your train of thought. His lips press a gentle kiss right on your pulse point, and you sigh into it. “T-trying out margherita today,” you manage to squeak out.

“Hmm,” Joel says, seemingly contemplating the flavor choice in between latching his lips on your neck and sucking, marking you over and over. You’re sure the ones from mere days ago haven’t faded all the way, a smattering of them going right down to your tits, but Joel always needs a fresh mark on you as soon as they start to fade, a way for you to always remember you’re his. He grinds his hard length into your back on the next touch of his lips, and you arch into it a little, your cunt starting to ache more needily for him. 

“F-fresh basil… from the… gar-” you gasp as he pulls you completely flush against his cock, letting out a little, devious laugh.

“Sounds fuckin’ delicious, baby,” he replies. His fingers reach down and toy with the front hem of your dress, delicately sliding his calloused fingers up your thighs, bunching the fabric as he goes. The warmth of his hands on your bare skin blazes a trail up to the apex of your thighs, finally cupping a hand around your warm heat. You instinctively grind into the heel of his hand, and can practically feel Joel smirking behind you. His fingers brush the outside of your panties, starting to rub circles on the wet fabric. He lets out a low growl, deep and needy in the back of his throat feeling the evidence of how much you’d anticipated him coming home. 

“So wet for me already, huh, doll? Couldn’t wait f’me to get home ‘n take care of ya, I bet,” Joel taunts in your ear before sucking on the lobe, and you’ve gone breathless now, nodding your head. His fingers tease the edge of your panties again, finally slipping one underneath the fabric, feeling the obscenity of your wetness directly, and he lets out an impressed tut, sucking in air between his teeth. You nearly moan out at the smallest touch he’s giving you, the way his rough, worn fingers gently brush over your clit for just a split second. 

“She’s so needy, ain’t she?” Joel coos in your ear, swiping a finger to your entrance and back to your clit. You can feel how slickness quickly gathers on Joel’s digits as he teases you. You squeeze your eyes shut and lean back into him, letting your head drop to his shoulder as pleasure wracks your body already.

“Mhm… needs you,” you murmur, turning your head towards his where he meets your lips, continuing steady strokes on your aching bundle of nerves. His lips are softer than you’d think, looking at the hardened grump behind them, but like so many parts of Joel, they are only soft for you.

“Needy, needy girl… good thing I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ my cock in that little cunt of yours all day.”

“A-all day?” you say with a little smirk, rutting your ass back into his throbbing length, and Joel groans with the friction.

“Second I pulled out of it this mornin’,” he replies, low voice drumming against your skin, and you shudder, desperate for what you know he’s about to do.

Another routine of yours - Joel comes home from work, and more days than not, he fucks you. And you enjoy every second of it, basking in the attention and his cock filling you up in the way nobody and nothing else can. You crave him night and day, never having gotten your fill, wondering if you ever could. His hunger for you in return only fuels the fire, a vicious circle the two of you seem to have no intention of breaking.

Your weakness lies completely in the man standing behind you, burying his fingers in between your legs and making you moan out wildly before he’s even had his way with you.

“Fuck, gotta get this cock in you, baby, split you open f’me so good, fuck you stupid,” Joel grunts suddenly, interrupting your swirling thoughts, withdrawing his fingers in a flash and leaving you whimpering. It’s not fair, the way he affects you. 

Nobody should have this power over you, but the minute you’d met Joel, you couldn’t deny the way he’d made you feel. Masculine and warm, rough hands and broad shoulders that you’d clung to that same night you’d met him in a bar, fucking mere hours later in the bathroom. Even in your drunken haze you’d submitted to him fully, Joel having no problem ordering and throwing you around the bathroom like you were just a toy to play with, his little doll. You’d found that you could never look back after that night, the safety he represented to you, the adoration he showered you with, the way he fucked you like it was his last time every time. When Joel saw how willing you were to be his in the way he craved from a woman, there was no stopping the insatiable beast he became, hellbent on never letting another man feel your touch again. Joel promised you a good life, an amazing life, even, and in the last few years, he had more than delivered for you. 

“Hush now, you’ll have what you want in a second,” he says, running a quick stroke of his fingers through your hair, giving it a tug. On principle, you let out a little mewl at the sensation, too many instances of your hair being tugged and pulled with Joel involved to not recall those memories with the pain of it. You hear the jangle of his belt as he frees himself from his jeans, the familiar sound of Joel’s thick, heavy cock slapping against his hand as he fists it. You’re already cock drunk without having seen the damn thing yet, and it’s nearly laughable how pliable you are when Joel’s involved. It’s always been that way - you’ve been happy to oblige his every desire, no matter when, where, how he wanted it, or the frequency. You were his to use, to pleasure, to fuck senseless, and you got off on the way all of it steadily built his need for you just as much as it did with your need for him.

“Please…” you whine, trying to slip out of his grasp and start for the sliding glass door to the house, making the assumption that he’d be taking you inside at any moment to take what he needed from you. 

Joel immediately tightens his hold on you, a dark tut in your ear that goes straight to your clit.

“Not so fast, little doll,” he croons, hand grabbing your cunt through your dress again to hold you to him. “Right here,” he adds on, turning your body towards the outdoor dining table in the backyard. 

“J-Joel… right here?” you question, knowing you shouldn’t. It won’t matter anyways. “The… t-the neighbors…” you whimper quietly as Joel crowds you against the table, tearing your dress up over your ass, revealing your lacy little thong to him. He groans at the sight of your bare ass ready for him to claim before roughly shimmying your underwear halfway down your thighs. He places a rough hand on your back, pressing you down into the table so that you’re completely bent over, your hands splaying out into the wood to support yourself. 

“Let them see…” Joel says quietly, a heady murmur as he slips his cock between your thighs and notches himself at your weeping entrance. “Let them see how much I love fuckin’ my wife.” He pushes in on the last sentence, and you gasp at the stretch and burn of his girth. Your vision goes white for a moment with the mix of pure pain and pleasure, and your mouth hangs open, panting in delight as he fills you inch by inch. 

“Mmm… such a sweet little pussy, honey…” Joel says quietly once he’s seated fully inside of you. He’s just as lost in the bliss of it as you are. “Know I’d fuckin’ live right here if I could.”

You give him a little moan of satisfaction, wiggling your hips to give yourself any sensation of movement from his cock. He places his hands on either side of your hips, squeezing his grip tightly enough to bruise before starting to thrust himself into you. You cry out in a yelp, the noise passing though your lips before you can even control it. 

“Yeah…” you whimper, face pressed against the table, trying to peek up as Joel looms above you, like some higher being that has the power to decide your fate, to decide the pleasure or pain you’ll have to endure in this moment. And truthfully, you do worship him. The way he moves inside of you, makes you crumble underneath even the lightest of his touches. The way he spoils you in every regard - you’ve never wanted for a single thing for as long as you’ve been Joel’s, him vowing to take care of everything you ever need, and in return, you take care of everything he needs. 

To some, it might seem like there’s a lack of balance in the way you do things, but fuck do you love it, you think as you desperately cling onto the table, manicured nails digging into the wood as Joel’s cock rams back into you, pressing so deep inside of you that you see stars.

You let out a low, strangled sound, whining as Joel begins to press against your cervix, the front of your thighs bumping into the table with every new thrust from him. He grunts with the exertion, fucking into you hard, taking what he wants, leaving you both breathless with the need for more of each other. You let Joel take and take and take because of how much he gives in return - while he loves to use you, he always makes sure you get every bit of pleasure you deserve for being so good to him.

When you continuously moan louder as Joel fucks you towards your high, you glance around, the small sliver of your brain that’s still rational worried about you two getting caught by your neighbors. The thought is equally mortifying as it is thrilling, but you decide you’d rather not deal with the embarrassment today if you can help it.

“Still worried about the neighbors, hm, pretty girl? I’ve got an idea,” Joel says, responding to your sudden nervousness. Before you can even answer, his hands are wrapping around your shoulders, urging you up from the table. You follow along, breathless and dazed, letting him move you as he wishes, too deliriously starry eyed for him to care about anything else other than what Joel is gearing up to do to you next.

He accidentally slides out with the movement of your body, and immediately he’s grasping at your hips, practically clawing his way back to you as he pulls you tight to his body again. His throbbing, dripping cock slaps periodically against your ass as he shoves you forward, pushing your body towards the house. 

“Here,” he grits out, suddenly crowding your body from behind to press you against the sliding glass door. “That better?”

“I- yes,” you say, eyes wide from the way you’d been roughly handled by him the last few moments. Your cunt aches almost painfully, having been getting so close to your climax only to have it ripped away suddenly when Joel decided to move you.

“Good,” he snips quietly. “Couldn’t stand to keep this cock out of you much longer’n this.”

With his words he brings his lips to the back of your neck again, just his heavy breathing fanning across the skin there, making you wild as he repositions himself and nudges your legs apart with his knee. You feel the length of him tease between your legs, sliding up to your entrance again. He groans loudly, letting you know how badly he wants you, so you try to pop your hips up at just the right angle you know he’s looking for. 

He slides in effortlessly and with a renewed vigor, hips snapping into you, pressing you further into the sliding glass door with neither of you seeming to be worried about the way it’s suddenly shaking on the frame. It’s completely lewd, the way you imagine the two of you - your entire body against glass, tits being pressed out the top of your dress and bouncing, palms spread against the smooth surface, nails clawing and unable to grasp at anything.

Your body is shaking in his hold now, Joel’s cock hitting inside of you in all the right places. You can feel yourself tensing, almost like every cell is going taut, your core pooling heat deep inside of you with molten pleasure from Joel hitting the spongy bit inside of you. 

“Fuck, love it when you sound like that f’me, doll,” Joel punches out as he hears your moans becoming louder and more desperate the longer he continues to thrust against your g-spot. You can’t respond, only continue your lustful noises with a renewed vigor as you try to bounce your hips back into his thrusts, getting him deeper than what’s even possible, the length of him already burying up to the hilt each time he drives himself into you.

“Know you wanna come for me, baby,” he says right in your ear, voice hoarse with need, and you whimper in response as his hand snakes around your hips and in between your legs, circling a gentle pressure on your clit. 

You feel your hold on reality completely break, your eyes squeezing shut as you melt into the way your entire body is tingling with pleasure now, waves of it turning into spasms as you go practically limp with shaky knees. Joel’s hands hold you in place, his warm strength keeping you upright as you push down onto his cock, riding out your climax and screaming for him. 

When your movements start to slow and your body relaxes, Joel thrusts into you even harder, loving the way you’re so compliant and soft after climaxing, letting him move in you however he needs as you ride out the sensitive aftershocks with a few quiet yelps.

“This little pussy is all mine, y’know that, right?” Joel reminds you through clenched teeth, giving your ass a firm slap. You nod vigorously, eyes still half lidded and mind scrambled from the way he’d shattered you mere moments ago.

“Y-yes, Joel,” you say when he slaps your ass again, demanding an answer. Your breathy answer is enough to get him to his own climax, and he surprises you by pulling out suddenly, leaving your body lurching back into nothing, missing the fullness of him already. Before you can protest, say anything, Joel’s hands grip your shoulders and spin you around and push down, forcing you onto your knees in one fluid, swift motion. You watch, wide eyed, as he fists his throbbing cock, shiny and coated in your own slick arousal as he spreads it along his shaft in jerking motions.

“Be a good girl and open up,” he commands, and you submit to the words immediately, mouth hanging open, even sticking your tongue out for good measure. Joel smirks at that before giving himself another swift tug, and you watch in renewed wonder as he begins to spill himself all over your face, ropes of cum hitting your skin. You taste him on your tongue immediately, savoring it. Your eyes are glued up on Joel’s face, watching his glazed gaze taking in the scene below him as he groans in pleasure, trying not to tilt his head back and get lost in the moment so he doesn’t miss a beat of your beautiful surrender to him.

“Fuck,” he mutters as he watches the last bits of his release hit your tongue. “Don’t you dare swallow that, yet, doll,” he adds on quickly, eyes fluttering for a moment before he tucks himself back into his slacks. He continues to tower over you for a prolonged few seconds, looking down in satisfaction at the image of your glowing, angelic face coated in something so sinful, the milky substance starting to drip down your face, your tongue trembling slightly with the need to swallow.

“Hold still,” he says needlessly since as the words come out of his mouth he grabs your chin, tilting your head upwards and gathering spit, letting a long, tortuously slow drip of it fall into your open mouth. It lands on your tongue, combining with his cum and Joel smirks again, releasing your chin.

“Swallow, my little doll,” he says, voice starting to go soft, an indication that he’s feeling satisfied and finished with his enjoyment of you. You close your mouth, smile, and swallow obviously for him, licking your lips for good measure. 

Joel holds out a hand, helping you stand, your legs buckling slightly as you try to get your bearings. He carefully smooths your disheveled dress, flattening the bottom half and tugging the neckline back into place before fixing the straps to sit perfectly square on your shoulders, eyes roaming over quickly to examine his work with pride. His hands then move to your hair, brushing his fingers gently to put it back in its place, leaving every part of you like none of this had just happened besides your face, still dripping with his spill. Your smile widens, seeing him watch a particularly large spot of it sliding down your cheek. You see his composure fail for a moment before he strokes your cheek gently, avoiding any of the mess there, giving you soft, affectionate eyes.

“Good girl,” he says quietly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Pizza’s probably ready,” he adds on, the casual tone taking you aback for only a moment before you blink yourself back to reality and nod dutifully.

“Of course,” you say, a genuine smile plastered on your face as you look at your handsome husband, admiring the way he’s looking at you with stars dancing across his eyes, the deepest love for you tucked away in his deep brown irises.

“After you get that, go clean yourself up, doll,” he says, and you nod again, the smile not leaving your face. You see out of the corner of your eye Joel settle onto one of the chairs at your outdoor table, leaning back casually as if he hadn’t just had you bent over that exact table, fucking you for the entire neighborhood to possibly see and hear.

You gather everything you need, serving utensils, plates, and two cold beers before bringing it to the table along with the pizza and a freshly tossed salad you’d made to accompany it. Each time you drop something off, the smirk on Joel’s face grows, watching the way you work with the evidence of his obsession with you still lingering on your flushed cheeks.

Once the table is set and your face cleaned off, you join Joel outside to enjoy the beautiful spring evening, and see he’s already served you two generous slices of the margherita pizza. 

He reaches a hand onto the table, taking yours delicately into his palm, dwarfing it with the size of his thick fingers as he absentmindedly runs his thumb along your knuckles, stopping to play with the large, gorgeous diamond on your ring finger. Another reminder to him that he has you all to himself, his pretty little wife.

“Thanks for dinner, baby” he says, eyes locked on yours as he uses a free hand to pick up the pizza and take a large bite, letting out a little noise in satisfaction at the flavor.

“Anytime.” You smile, genuine and tranquil, a fresh appreciation and love for the life you’ve found yourself so grateful to be living.

tysm to @jupiter-soups @huffle-punk @rensraptor for so much help with ideas and writing this fic! love u guys x

[joelsdaggersarchive]

The One You Need

✿ SERIES MASTERLIST ✿

I spent most my life thinkin’ love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need.

○ SUMMARY: When you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life.

○ SERIES WARNINGS/TAGS: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, SMUT[specific warnings per part], soft!joel, protective!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n

○ PART INDEX:

✨One✨ ✨Two✨ ✨Three✨ ✨Four✨ ✨Five✨ ✨Six✨ (coming soon)

[joelsdaggersarchive]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐘 | Joel Miller x reader

SUMMARY: Alone, the Miller's brothers seem like your only hope. The outbreak is still fresh, weeks after the fall and all that matters is survival and the unlikely comfort that comes along with a man who wants nothing to do with you.

SERIES WARNINGS: 18+, early outbreak, canon typical violence, morally grey!joel, smut (warnings given with each chapters), exploration of kinks, enemies to lovers, age gap (early 20s/mid 30s), unhealthy coping mechanisms, detailed warning with each chapter

CHAPTERS (titles are tentative, only to give everyone the idea):

one: beginnings

two: sex game

three: somnophilia

four: body worship

five: rough/detachment

six: free use

seven: mutual mas

eight: toys

EXTRAS:

playlist

ao3 link

[joelsdaggersarchive]

oh my god this already sounds so fucking good

FUTUREPROOF (Series)

joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel miller can't remember the last time he was starstruck. so it takes him by surprise to be lost for words in front of you. with his daughters begging him to at least take a picture with the hottest rockstar in town, joel gives you your first real glimmer of warmth since your move to la. what follows is an unlikely friendship, the talk of the tabloids. but what if there's truth behind the rumours? how long can a secret stay secret, and how long until you're forced to leave each other alone?

pairing: rockstar!reader x actor!joel

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. joel gets both his daughters bc i'm a sap :) unspecified age gap (i guess joel is in his 40s and reader late 20s? but have at it!). check individual chapters for warnings, but there will be: drinking, swearing, pining, idiots in love, bad friends, LOTS of smut, joel miller's whore mouth, angst, drug talk, and plenty of glitz and glam.

reader has hair and is generally able bodied, but is otherwise undescribed.

an: for my loves @schnarfer @itsokbbygrl @toomanytookas and @undercoverpena. my real life rockstars, who i am eternally grateful to call my friends, and have hold my hands. i love you.

prologue - mdb

part i - diamonds and pearls

part ii - comfortable

part iii - tempt you

part iv - toro

part v - pull me through

part vi - greetings from califournia

part vii - foreign language

part viii - silver springs

part ix - i forgot to be your lover

extras

moodboard

*chapters may change*

follow @pudding-notifs for updates!

[joelsdaggersarchive]

Yearling - Complete Tumblr Master List

Yearling: noun - A young horse, older than a foal but not yet two years old. - A still wild thing that is too new to tame

After years of surviving in the wilds of Wyoming after the cordyceps outbreak, you find yourself in Jackson. It's a town filled with friendly faces and the kind of world you hardly remember, let alone can connect with or understand. But one man - Joel Miller, another loner, like you - makes you think that trying to find your place in society again might be worth it.

On A03 | Spotify Playlist | No Outbreak AU Masterlist

WARNING: this fic does have plot overlap with TLOU2. It’s not a retelling of the game but if you want to go into season 2 spoiler free, approach with caution.

Chapter 1 - Break

Chapter 2 - Escape

Chapter 3 - Noise

Chapter 4 - Contribution

Chapter 5 - Movement

Chapter 6 - Shoot

Chapter 7 - Revival

Chapter 8 - Tipsy

Chapter 9 - Hold

Chapter 10 - Feral

Chapter 11 - Touch

Chapter 12 - Animals

Chapter 13 - Falling

Chapter 14 - Time

Chapter 15 - Past

Chapter 16 - Firsts

Chapter 17 - Stay

Chapter 18 - Reverse

Chapter 19 - Purpose

Chapter 20 - Healing

Chapter 21 - Holiday

Chapter 22 - Storm

Chapter 23 - Search

Chapter 24 - Return

Chapter 25 - Balance

Chapter 26 - Carved

Chapter 27 - Found

Chapter 28 - Newcomer

Chapter 29 - Together

Chapter 30 - Blood

Chapter 31 - Warmth

Chapter 32 - Promises

Chapter 33 - Discovery

Chapter 34 - Anything

Chapter 35 - Answers

Chapter 36 - Severed

Chapter 37 - Pieces

Chapter 38 - Reckoning

Chapter 39 - Returning

Chapter 40 - Home

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass @planet-marz1 @kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

[joelsdaggersarchive]

pretty little wife | masterlist

status: ongoing one shot collection pairing: husband!joel x f!reader summary: chronicles the daily life, past and present, of husband!joel and his pretty little wife. warnings: 18+ MDNI, sub/dom relationship, large age gap (20+ years), free use kink, each chapter is smut heavy with sprinklings of domestic fluff, praise kink, heavy on the pet names for reader, chapters are individually tagged with warnings! 🌹 main masterlist | ao3 | kofi | fic tag 🌹

✦ = smut ✩ = fluff

main chapters: ♡ better now ✦ 3.9k — a snippet in the seemingly perfect daily life of husband!joel and his lovely housewife. ♡ morning glory ✦✩ 4.3k — saturday mornings are for his wife, joel claims, so he spends this one making his wife come as many times as he damn well pleases. ♡ generous ✦ 10.5k — tommy stops by to see you and joel in the evening, and the night takes a turn that you never could have expected. joel x f!reader x tommy for this chapter. ♡ sit tight ✦ 6.5k — you're hosting a dinner party in the miller household, and as usual, joel can't help but turn it into a chance to tease his pretty little wife. ♡ do you have an appointment? ✦✩ 11.2k — pretty wife visits joel at work when he forgets his lunch, and he wants to show everyone there just how good you are to him. and when you're good, you get a reward. ♡ meet cute, part one , part two ✦✩ 8.3k, 9.5k — a flashback to the night joel and pretty wife meet, and the beginnings of their relationship. ♡ sorry, baby ✦✩ 4k — joel is stressed and busy with a big project at work lately. his pretty little wife makes it all better. ♡ crazy 4 u ✦✩ 9k — joel has historically made sure that valentine's day is special for his pretty little wife, but this year he's gone above and beyond.

ficlets: ♡ butt dial ✩ 2.3k — you're home alone while joel is out with his brother. he butt dials you, and you hear some very interesting things.

[joelsdaggersarchive]

SUMMARY: Moving in with your soon-to-be stepfather under the roof of his brother, Joel, ends up being a turning point of change in your life.

SERIES WARNINGS: DDDNE - stepcest, religious trauma, parental trauma. addition warnings: no outbreak, step-uncle!joel (reader's mom is engaged to marry tommy) age gap (20/late 40s), inappropriate relationships/behavior, slight dubcon (voyeurism), eventual smut (will tag with specific on each chapter), skewed morals, joel using alcohol to cope with life and loss, reader is in the depths of deconstruction. this is the one and only warning offered: if this is not your thing, don't read.

CHAPTERS

part one – temptation

part two – desire

part three - corruption

[joelsdaggersarchive]

'roommates' masterlist

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Series Summary: Your roommate, Maria, introduces you to her boyfriend's brother. You hit it off immediately, but when you find out the true nature of his profession, you both decide to remain just friends. But once the four of you eventually move in together, things get... complicated.

-or-

A lovers to friends to lovers fic

Series Warnings: no outbreak AU, language, smut (18+ MDNI), slow burn, cigarette use, some descriptions of porn (obviously), angst, mutual pining, jealousy, possessive behavior, infidelity (reader cheating on OC), alcohol use

Status: in progress

A/N: this idea hit me when I was reading @shellshocklove's I Wanna Be Your Lover. If you haven't had the pleasure, I recommend you reading it. It is a great story and very well written.

Chapters:

1. you're joking, right?

2. sparks on the Fourth of July

3. fun in the sun

4. swipe right

5. roll the dice

6. pitching a tent

7. jack and jill

8. forever

9. hold onto each other

10. home

One-shots/Requests:

Roll Call 2: reader and Joel watch some of his porn together

Asks/BTS/Inspo/Extras:

Joel's Likes/Dislikes

Floor Plan

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[joelsdaggersarchive]

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Prologue

Tommy offers Joel help one last time. The prologue to The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Grief. Mentions of child death. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 1.3k

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3

“If you think I’m not going to fight for what’s mine, you’re insane!” 

Joel remembered the woman on the screen. She was young, beautiful, her perfectly made up face snarled in rage. He remembered her. He always remembered her. 

He remembered the scene, too. 

Sarah had loved this show. She was obsessed, one of her friends at school put her onto it and she watched it all in a matter of weeks on Netflix. 

Joel had hated this show. There were drugs and sex and Sarah was just 13 when she watched it but he’d been such a sucker for her that he let her. He’d always been a sucker for her. He always gave her whatever she asked for. 

Maybe that had been wrong.

Maybe if he’d stood his ground more, maybe if he’d been a better father instead of just giving his daughter whatever she wanted, she wouldn’t be dead. 

“Mr. Miller?” 

Joel looked away from the television, reminded that he was in the hospital and that it must be after 3 a.m. by now. The nurse stood in the doorway, an almost pitying look on her face. 

“Your brother is here to see you.” 

Joel just went back to watching the TV. The woman he remembered was still there, beautiful face streaked with tears.

“I can’t believe you,” she whispered. She was a good actress, he thought. Convincing. She sounded like she was in pain. He doubted someone like her even knew what that would really feel like, what that would really sound like. He did. He knew. 

“Joel.” 

He looked to the door, his brother standing there, the early morning beginnings of a beard on his chin, in athletic wear instead of the suit he saw him in so often these days. He looked back to the TV. 

“You can’t keep doing this, man,” Tommy said, coming in and standing beside him. The woman on the TV raised a gun. “You can’t keep beating the shit out of people you don’t like, I can’t keep trying to buy them off, Maria can’t keep talking you out of trouble with the cops… Hell, I only really talked Maria into it this time because it’s the anniversary of the day she… we know it’s hard but you’re this close to ending up in deep shit with an actual rap sheet, man.” 

She screamed and sobbed as she pulled the trigger. 

“Joel.” 

The woman panted for breath before lifting the gun to her temple. It cut to commercial. 

“Sarah loved that show,” Joel said, looking away from the TV to see Tommy close his eyes and shake his head with a sigh. 

“I know you’ve been strugglin’,” Tommy said, crossing his arms and looking at him again. “And I don’t blame you, alright? What you’ve been through… I’d be a wreck too. I know it ain’t the same but it killed me too, for a while, losing her that way. Can’t even imagine what it’s like for you. But Joel… it’s been three years now. You can’t keep destroying yourself like this, you just can’t. It’s killing me to watch you do it but I don’t got it in me to keep saving you. I cannot let you drag me down with you, not now, not with…” 

He clenched his jaw for a moment, looking back toward the door and back at Joel again. 

“Maria’s pregnant.” Joel’s heart clenched. “She’s my focus now. I want to be there for you, Joel. Lord knows I owe you after everything you did for me but I can’t do it at the expense of myself or my wife and my kid. You understand?” 

Joel nodded slowly, looking to his boots. There was a dark spot on the left toe, the leather never really clean from the blood. 

“Here,” Tommy held out a business card.

Joel frowned. 

“Think I know how to get ahold of my own brother.” 

“This ain’t for me,” Tommy said. “It’s my hiring manager. This is the last thing I’m doin’ for you, Joel. Come and work for me. I can help you that way, make sure you’re not out there on your own. You don’t got the formal training of the other guys but we can handle that. Christ knows you got the raw skill, just ask the asshole whose face you rearranged…” 

“He’s lucky that’s all I did,” Joel snapped. 

Tommy ignored him. 

“Once your hand heals up, we can get you started,” Tommy said, card still out. Joel took it, running his fingers over the embossed lettering. “I want to help you, Joel. I want to be there for you. This is the last way I can do that. Understand?” 

He just looked at the card, Miller Security in large letters, Military Grade Personal Protection in smaller ones below. The email address was for someone named Marlene. 

Joel had probably met her at some point but he didn’t remember her. Joel had been to a few company BBQs and happy hours for the private security company his brother had founded about six months after his daughter died. 

Tommy used to work alongside Joel, the two of them taking contracting work together. If wasn’t easy work but it was satisfying. Joel liked building things, liked working with his hands and seeing the physical manifestations of his labor. It wasn’t a bad life, in hindsight. Not since he’d blown it. 

After his daughter died, Joel couldn’t keep working. He tried, after a few weeks, to get back to it but he sometimes showed up drunk, sometimes didn’t show up at all. It wasn’t long before he was fired and word spread. Soon, he got shot down for every job he tried for. He’d screwed over not just himself but Tommy, too. 

That’s how Tommy came to create the security company to begin with. He had a few old special forces buddies move back to town looking for work and Tommy realized he had a lot of highly trained men with time on their hands at his fingertips. What better way to put them to use than to start a security company?

The business took off. Joel was proud of him. Or, as proud as he could be while the rot of guilt gnawed at him for letting down his then struggling brother so badly he needed to start his own fucking business to fix it. 

And now his brother - six years his junior, the kid he’d promised his mother he’d look after when she was on her death bed - was offering him a job after bailing him out at least a dozen times in three years. 

“I want to help, Joel,” Tommy said. “Please let me. Work with me, get back on your feet, have a support system. I want to help but you have to let yourself be helped. Please.” 

Joel tucked the card into the pocket of his shirt and looked at Tommy, a pleading look in his eyes. Eyes that reminded him of Sarah. 

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll email in the mornin’.” 

Tommy closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you,” he said as a nurse came in around him. “I’ll be out here, give you a ride home…” 

“We’ll have him out quick,” the woman smiled kindly as Tommy turned to go. “I’m here to handle discharge. Can you confirm your name and birthday for me?” 

“Joel Miller,” he said. “September 26, 1982.” 

“Oh!” She looked up from the chart and smiled at Joel. “Happy birthday!” 

A/N: Welcome to The Savage and the Sanctuary! I like to introduce my new fics as I'm finishing up an existing one. This likely won't get chapter one for a few weeks yet but you never know what might happen! I hope you're excited to go on this journey as Joel learns to find himself again after surviving the loss of Sarah. There's a lot of angst and excitement and smut ahead! Fingers crossed you enjoy the ride.

Love you!

Taglist: @christinamadsen

[joelsdaggersarchive]

A Burning Desire masterlist

firefighter!joel x f!reader

artwork by anush semerjyan (uploaded on pinterest)

rating: explicit. 18+ only.

series warnings: joel miller au, fluff, angst, smut. each part is marked with their own warnings. reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns.

series synopsis: you were fine with being single, basking in the freedom and independence of it all—until a handsome firefighter walks into your life and completely flips your world around.

part one

part two

part three

part four

part five

divider by @saradika-graphics

[joelsdaggersarchive]

helen [joel miller] ; masterlist

Si vis pacem, para bellum. Or, a retired hitman returns to the fold.

my masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

tags/warnings: 18+ (MDNI), hitman!joel, husband!joel, graphic violence throughout, established relationship, artist!reader, love as worship (and a little bit of blasphemy), injuries, murder, revenge, cars, smut (individual warnings in chapter tags), fluff, angst angst angst (i mean it), joel is an idiot, heartache, healing, forgiveness, threats of rape/SA, mob activities, secrecy + lies, childhood/religious trauma, grovelling, the typical alcohol/smoking/profanity, erotic paintings, beautiful header by @tieronecrush, the john wick AU nobody asked for

a/n: this miniseries has been a passion project of mine for so long and i'm beyond thrilled to finally announce it! this is uncharted territory in lots of ways, so i hope you'll be kind and i hope above all that you'll enjoy this fic <33

chapters:

one ; dear joel two ; lure the wolf three ; the red circle four ; nowhere to run five ; be seeing you epilogue ; daisy

read on ao3!

extras:

moodboard by @cavillscurls cover by @cavillscurls

follow @kiwisbellupdates and turn on notifications if you'd like to be updated when i post!

painting in header: "Hug" by Marijana Rakićević (2015)

[joelsdaggersarchive]

dark!joel x innocent f!reader. post-apocalypse au.

main masterlist | ao3 | kofi | fic tag

summary: can you hold a man as both your savior to be worshipped and the monster that he is?

series warnings: 18+ MDNI! noncon, nonconsensual touching, dubcon - reader eventually enthusiastically consents but the syndrome is stockholming so its dubcon, ddlg dynamic, dom!joel, reader is a virgin, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55) manipulation innocence kink/innocent reader, unprotected piv, fingering, oral (f + m receiving), pet names, spanking, each chapter will have individual warnings!

a/n: this is my darkest fic yet, as you may know i usually write more fluff/pure smut pieces so i truly hope i've done a good job with something a bit more dark and intense. in the end, this is a love story of sorts because i'm a water sign and can't help myself.

part i: deliverance part ii: resistance part iii: compliance part iv: surrender part v: penitence part vi: sanctification part vii: convert part viii: punishment, peace part ix: fracture part x: hysteria part xi: dawning part xii: liberation (total parts not set yet)

EXTRAS:

precious: a joel pov drabble satin: drabble series tag / inspo spotify playlist pinterest board moodboards | one (thank you wym! ) | two (thank you gi!)

[joelsdaggersarchive]

sex on fire | masterlist

ceo!joel miller x f!reader | ao3 | playlist

you've worked for joel miller for three years now, as his personal assistant. answering calls, organizing his schedule, fulfilling every request he could dream of. it pays well, you know you're good at it, and you get along with all of your coworkers. there's just one you get along with...a little too well.

please check out individual chapter content warnings before reading!!! this series features adult content.

series warnings: age gap (reader is late 20s, joel is late 40s), inappropriate work relationship, cursing, alcohol + dr*g use, displays of wealth, daddy kink, sugardaddy!joel, themes of abandonment, mentions of pregnancy & periods, smut, angst, fluff.

main series

chapter 1: you shook me all night long

chapter 2: state-of-the-art

chapter 3: mile high

chapter 4: la petite mort

chapter 5: faire l'amour

chapter 6: ace

chapter 7: 1691 maple

chapter 8: you'll hurt me if you don't trust me

chapter 9: little aphrodite

chapter 10: champagne problems

✨ chapter 11: twin flame ✨

chapter 12: coming soon!

epilogue

bonus

➵ hanging on the telephone

drabbles

➵ joel taking reader on his sailboat

features ➵ sex on fire wallpapers by @dundienominee

➵ sex on fire moodboard by @5oh5

[joelsdaggersarchive]

bite the hand

the killer & the sound - chapter 3

summary: you hadn't expected joel to put such an abrupt end to... whatever it is you two had. or, what you thought you had, anyway. you write and perform a new song on the second night of the tour about it, and the consequences aren't quite what you expected them to be. how could something that seemed so simple at first have become so complicated?

warnings: 18+, smut, no outbreak au, no use of y/n, rockstar!joel, aspiring rockstar!reader, d/s dynamics, pretty major daddy kink, age gap (reader is early-mid 20’s, joel is early-mid 50’s), pet names (sweetheart, darlin', baby, babygirl, songbird(!!), etc), big time angst, daddy/mommy issues, religious shame, degradation (joel calls you a whore), spanking, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, manhandling, one (1) kiss, spitting, smoking (reader & other characters), drinking (reader & other characters), getting walked in on, characters who need therapy sooooo badly, lots of internal monologue, let me know if i missed any!!

word count: 13.2k

a/n: as always, thank you so much for your patience and sticking around to see what i put our pookies through this time. these chapters just keep getting longer and longer but it's not my fault they have a lot to say!!!!! if you'd like an idea of what reader's lil diss track sounds like, i very much imagined gibson girl by ethel cain when i wrote it. thank you as always to my best babygirl kiers i love u to death. i hope you like this one, nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed!!

series masterlist

divider by @saradika-graphics

Jesus Christ, what the hell is he doing?

Joel has been in the shower for at least thirty minutes now, and he’s spent more than half of that time just letting the scalding water pound against his back as his vision goes blurry from the steam. He finished his “rinse off” within five minutes of stepping inside the bathroom, and now he’s just stalling, wondering how the fuck he’s supposed to go back out there and get in bed with you.

If it weren’t for the decades’ worth of tattoos that he can see when he looks down at his bare body, he wouldn’t be able to recognize himself right now. He’s always been one to hit it and quit it, love ‘em and leave ‘em, or whatever little figure of speech you want to use for just being a fucking playboy. Since when has he ever cleaned a girl up, given her his clothes to wear, let her sleep over after he fucks her? Though, he has to give himself some credit, it’s not like he was planning on letting you stay. He was just trying to preserve some of your dignity, but then, when did he even decide to start caring about shit like that? 

Fuck.

When the tour bus jerks to life as the driver begins the trip to the next city, the loss of balance is enough to finally snap Joel out of the uncharacteristic morality spiral he’s now found himself in. He rubs his hands across his face, pinching the bridge of his nose and cursing under his breath, knowing that he can’t hide in here and avoid you forever. Besides, he’s getting old, and he has to sleep at some point if he wants to be at least a little functional tomorrow. And what is he so fucking scared of, anyway? 

Joel turns off the water, and the knob screeches in protest as the dull roar of the shower fades into silence. He steps out of the stall and hardly makes any effort to dry himself off, solely focused on getting out of there before the fog evaporates from the mirror and he’s forced to confront his own reflection. He shakes out his hair and pulls on a clean pair of briefs, then sends out a silent prayer to whoever the fuck might be listening, begging for help in making it through the night without having to address whatever it is that’s gnawing at his conscience. He didn’t even think he had one of those anymore.

Joel enters the bedroom quietly, hoping that you’d be exhausted enough to have fallen asleep by the time he returned. When you don’t even twitch as he shuts the door behind him and climbs under the covers, he lets out the breath he’d been holding, and lays himself down as close to the edge of the mattress as he can without falling off the damn thing. If he can put as much distance between the two of you as possible tonight, maybe he can make it out the other side unscathed.

Just when he thinks he’s in the clear, having settled himself down with his back to you and situated his silk sheets and pillows to his liking, he feels you roll over in your sleep as you let out some dreamy little whine. Joel likes to keep it cold on the bus, and your shivering form must feel the heat still radiating off of him from his shower, because then you’re wrapping your little arms around his bicep and pulling him close. He wants to shake you loose, to put some extra pillows in between your bodies just for good measure, but he can’t be so cruel. Not when you look like such a goddamn angel, sleeping so peacefully with your hair spread out around you like a halo, long lashes fluttering against your cheeks. He wonders what you’re dreaming about. 

Joel isn’t sure when exactly it happened, but somewhere in between that very first rehearsal and right now, the lines started to blur between a fun little fling he wasn’t going to think twice about letting go of once the tour ended, and something that he wants to sink his claws into and claim as his own. He has to face it now, whether he wants to or not—he can’t get himself to push you away, to growl at you not to touch him and to stay on your own side of the bed, because he doesn’t want to. What he wants is to tattoo his fucking name right underneath that shitty moth on your upper thigh, and therein lies the problem.

He has a history of breaking things, of being too controlling and rough and mean when he plays with his toys, until they fight back and tear themselves apart as they escape his clutches. But you seem like something that can’t be broken, that would glue itself back together just to get played with again the next day, and that sets off some alarms he didn’t know he was capable of hearing. Maybe he does still have a conscience, after all.

At first, Joel had liked how eager and willing and naive you were, how easily he could push and pull you this way and that because you didn’t seem to realize what this was. Or at least, what it was intended to be. Whether you were smart to his intentions or not was never really his concern before, but now… You’re nuzzling your face into his arm, breathing in his scent and letting it soothe you as it coats your senses, and it’s awakening something protective, possessive, in him. Joel has never been good at romance or love or relationships, and he had resigned himself a long time ago to the fact that he’d never be able to settle down. The life he lives can’t sustain something steady or healthy like that anyway, what with the touring and the groupies and the sex and the alcohol. 

But now here you are, this fragile and yet unbreakable thing in his bed who he worries wouldn’t run away no matter how much he growled and bared his teeth. And god dammit, that scares him. Joel had thought he was done being scared, that he had left that feeling behind before you were even born, probably. And yet, here it is creeping up on him again, grabbing him by the throat and suffocating him. You’ve got real talent and beauty, with a promising future and blossoming career ahead of you, and you’d probably give it all up and follow him into the darkness if he promised to call you a good girl once you did.

Joel has never been a very good man, but something about you makes him really have to stare down the barrel of it now. He can’t do this to you, he can’t let you in, and he knows that. He’d poison you, if he hasn’t already. And he can’t give to you what you seem to think this is, what it could be, if he wasn’t so fucking damaged. So he decides it then, as he doesn’t stop his hand from brushing a stray strand of your halo out of your delicate face, that he has to put a stop to this first thing in the morning. And he has to be cold and concise about it, so that you’re perfectly clear on what the two of you are going to be from now on, even if it hurts you. You’re a big girl, and he trusts that you’ll get over it somehow, because letting this continue would hurt you a hell of a lot worse, in the end.

And you seemed to have taken it well, all things considered. He didn’t tell you the whole truth, the real reason why he decided to yank the arrow out of your heart when he was the one who shot it in there in the first place. Because then you’d know that he’s a broken man who also breaks things, and he can only shatter so many of your illusions about him in one morning. He knows this is his fault, and he was at least man enough to take the blame, he can give himself that. He had decided to paint himself as an actually respectable person who knows when he’s taken something too far, who definitely does have a conscience. Maybe you’re the one who lured it out of the dark cave it was hiding in, but he still can’t risk anything, on the off chance that he still is the same mangled man he always was and the one he will continue to be. So he lies to you, just a little bit, because what you don’t know won’t hurt you, and he can’t let you come any closer for fear of causing even more pain than he already has. 

Joel watched as your bare legs carried you out of the living area and off of his bus, the tops of your thighs just barely concealed by his shirt he had lent you the night before. He didn’t react when you slammed the door on your way out, he had expected you to do as much. But he did half-expect you to turn around and spit a fuck you, Joel at him the way he would have deserved. It might have hurt less if you did, that way you would have left a sour taste in his mouth to replace the still-lingering flavor of your pussy mixed with the cum he had spilled inside you last night. 

God, he is so fucked.

—

You had made sure to thank the audio technicians before you disappeared from the venue after your sound check, but otherwise avoided looking at or speaking to anyone on your way out. Especially him. You had held Angel close as you swiftly made your way back to your bus before Death’s Head had a chance to take the stage for their turn, not wanting to hear any more of Joel’s voice than you’ve had to today. Besides, it’s already been looping like a skipping record in your mind since this morning, refusing to let up no matter how hard you try to drown it out. 

Mistake, respect, and professional are the choice words that are chanting themselves over and over again, so many times that they almost don’t sound real anymore, just a random sequence of letters and noises that you can’t make sense of. What happened last night didn’t feel like a mistake to you, especially not when he was so gentle in cleaning you up afterwards, when he brought you a glass of water, when he let you curl up against him in his bed, wearing his clothes. He sure as hell had plenty of time to decide that you were worthy of respect before he had you act like a whore on stage in front of tens of thousands of people for his own sick pleasure. (And apparently yours, but that’s not the point.) And now you’re supposed to believe that he suddenly had a change of heart overnight, that splitting you open on his cock and using your body to get what he wanted made him finally develop a moral compass and decide that he wants to start acting like a professional? Damn, maybe you are more powerful than you thought. 

You just can’t believe you were stupid enough to let yourself feel something for him. He was just playing you like his guitar this entire fucking time, a pretty instrument that he can pluck and strum and draw pretty noises from, then put away without a second thought. He’s a celebrity, a rockstar, for fuck’s sake. Half of his songs are about sex, and if the rumors are true, he recorded the original intro to Kiss it Better while he was hooking up with some groupie in a bathroom. Just like you, he had probably used her to get what he wanted, then dropped her like it was nothing. Of course he never fucking cared about you. 

You should burn the clothes that he sent you scurrying back to your bus wearing this morning. They’re currently shoved into the bottom of your plain-looking laundry bag in the corner of your room, though you’re half tempted to just toss the whole thing into the dumpster behind the venue and set it ablaze. But you know he doesn’t care about material things as much as he does his ego, and it’s going to be much more satisfying to set that on fire than some worn-out pieces of clothing, anyway. Destroying them also wouldn’t do anything about the way you keep catching an inhale of his cologne every once in a while, the masculine smell of it wafting from his t-shirt and carving out an undesired space for itself in your brain. You try to ignore the way your cunt flutters against your will at the scent, at the memories it conjures, and hope that she doesn’t develop a habit of betraying you like this when it comes to him. She almost gets the better of you, tempting you to second guess your plan to perform your scathing new song at the end of your set tonight.

Almost.

You’re feeling good about what you wrote, and you’d be even more upset with yourself if you backed out now, if you gave in to Joel once again, without him even knowing it this time. He seems to think that he knows you better than you know yourself, that he can make decisions for you and that he always knows just what to say to get you to do as he asks. For once, you want him to be fucking wrong about you.

The show starts in just under an hour, and you’re dedicating your last bit of quiet solitude to solidifying the new words and the motions of your fingers in your memory. While you were scribbling in your notepad earlier today, you had tried to ride the fine line between calling him out so blatantly and using descriptions that were too clichéd, and you’re happy with the in-between that you landed on. The song could be about anyone, but it isn’t, and if the shoe fits when he tries it on, oh fucking well. Plenty of men wear the same size, and if he wants to make yet another thing about himself, that’s not your problem.

Ideally, you had wanted to include the song in your sound check so that your band would be prepared for tonight, until you had let your eyes drift to the side of the stage and saw Joel observing in the darkness, just like he had done while you were performing the night before. You suppose it wouldn’t be very professional of him to avoid you like the plague the way you’re trying to do with him, but still. You had averted your eyes as quickly as you had spotted him, and decided that the song was just going to have to be a surprise for everyone, not just Joel. Your band members are smart enough guys, you’re sure they’ll be able to catch on and back you up when it’s time to unveil what you had been working on all day. But if they don’t, you’re prepared for it to just be you and Angel up there, the same way it has been for as long as you’ve been making music. Until recently, at least.

You’ve opted to get yourself dressed and ready in the safety of your bus, attempting to avoid a repeat of last night’s pre-show interactions with Joel by minimizing the amount of time you actually have to spend inside the venue. You doubt he’ll try anything, but considering how unafraid he was to volunteer himself as a witness to your sound check, you’d rather not risk it. So, you do your best to keep your distance as you make your way off the bus and to the side of the stage with Angel in tow, hoping that your viscous aura alone will be enough to keep him away. 

Your band members are already waiting for you in the wings when you get there, and you tuck yourself safely behind the group of them as you wait for the lights to go down. You ghost your fingers along Angel’s strings one last time, just to make sure that your muscle memory is securely locked into place—it is, because you’re fucking good at this. You don’t need Joel’s whispered praises and soothing touches to know that you’re a star, and you don’t want them. You don’t. You fucking killed it last night, and you knew it before he told you so, because your ears were still ringing long after the audience had finished applauding and screaming for you. For your own performance, not for the on-stage degradation you endured because of a dumb teenage crush you couldn’t seem to shake off.

If your timing is right, you should’ve gone on a few minutes ago now. Each passing minute has you gnawing at your bottom lip and picking at your nails with increasing intensity as you and the audience both become more restless. You aren’t sure what the hold up is, but you just want to get out there and safely away from the possibility of Joel before you make one of your goddamn fingers bleed. You’re so consumed in your destructive self-soothing that you don’t hear the sound of jingling chains and creaking leather approaching you where you stand, followed by a clearing throat and the last voice you want to fucking hear right now.

“Tommy told me they’re jus’ tryin’ to fix a light or somethin’. Shouldn’t be too much longer now,” Joel says, and you stiffen as he speaks. He sounds earnest in the way he addresses the group of you, but the feeling of his gaze lingering on your skin tells you his true intentions.

Your bandmates hum in acknowledgement as they maintain their casual demeanors, while you shift your jaw and remain steadfast in your stoicism. Your face is calm and concentrated, but your fidgeting hands tell a different story, and the telltale habit is most of what prompted Joel to come over here against his better judgment. He so badly wants to take your hands in his so that you’ll stop tearing at your skin, to massage the worry right out of your palms and tell you there’s nothing to be nervous about, just like he did last night. Though, you’d probably bite his goddamn fingers clean off if he even so much as reached out a hand in your direction, and he wouldn’t entirely blame you if you did, considering that he’s more than likely the reason for your agitation.

Instead, he settles for asking, in as neutral of a tone as possible, “You okay, darlin’?”

Your gaze remains focused on the stage, on the mic you should be standing behind right now, if it weren’t for some stupid fucking light. After a pointed beat, you answer him with a short, “I’m fine.”

You can see in your peripheral vision that Joel nods and shifts his weight, moving a little further behind your band and closer to you. He lets a matching bit of silence pass, for some reason not using the opportunity to just turn around and walk away, before speaking again. “Quit messin’ with your fingers.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you snap, whipping your head to finally face him. You peer up at Joel from under your eyebrows, putting on a stony face and doing your best to look intimidating even as he towers over you. Despite your efforts, your heart still flutters for just a second when your eyes meet, before he drops his own gaze to the floor and takes a step back from you.

“That how this is gonna be?” Joel asks, and you could swear he sounds a little defeated.

“Yeah, it is.”

You turn yourself back to the stage again, and he takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to steady himself and suppress a reaction to your attitude that he might regret.

“Look, can we–” he starts, but a sudden burst of screams and hollers cuts him off as the venue lights finally dim. You push past your bandmates and stomp your way towards the stage, feeling volatile and as determined as you’ve ever fucking been to give a killer performance tonight. You could’ve spit some real fire at him, told him to leave you the fuck alone like you had been so tempted to, but you didn’t want to scare him off. You don’t even need to check to know that he’s still standing exactly where you left him, and that he’ll probably stay there and watch you the whole time because he doesn’t know what the fuck he wants, apparently. Maybe you should bring him onstage for his public humiliation the same way he did to you, see how he likes it. But you have a little more humanity than he does, and if it all works out, he’ll have to watch you tear him down surrounded by his own bandmates and brother, and that’s gratifying enough for you.

When you and your band have all taken your places, you introduce yourself to tonight’s crowd with a newfound vigor, and begin your set with a chord so resonant it vibrates your bones. The sound surrounds you, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking loose the wallflower version of you who performed these same songs just last night. It feels like a metamorphosis, like the moths that adorn the strap slung around your body and the one etched into your skin finally belong to you instead of him.

—

You sail through your set, never stumbling over a chord or missing a lyric, even in your anticipation to reach the end. While you thank the crowd and wait for their roaring cheers to die down, you finally chance a look at the side of the stage. Just as you had predicted before you went on, Joel’s silver-tipped boots are still planted in the same place they were thirty minutes ago. Perfect.

“Y’all have been amazing tonight, this was so much fun,” you pant into the mic. “I, uh… I actually have one more song before I go, if that’s alright. Just wrote it this morning.”

Another wave of whistles and applause engulfs you as you turn to check on your bandmates, who all wear confused expressions as expected. You step back from the mic to tell each of the guys the key and tempo of what you wrote, and ask if they can maintain something steady and follow along while you carry the melody. When they’ve all gotten the plan, they look at each other and wordlessly communicate a final decision, seeming to be up to the challenge. 

You resume your place at the front of the stage, taking one last look at your victim before beginning to strum the song’s now-familiar echoing intro. The tone is a little Western, and you wrote it that way on purpose, just as an extra hidden jab toward the obnoxious midnight cowboy persona Joel had first lured you in with. Your haunting voice comes in a few measures later, singing lyrics that are unlike anything you’ve written before. They’re darker, more graphic, and they tell the story of a girl and a cold-blooded man covered in leather and tattoos, who got her alone one night and ripped her clothes off and whispered things he didn’t mean while he fucked her. And after everything was said and done, the girl had lied to herself, replaying everything that had happened between her and the cold-blooded man that night, convincing herself that because it felt good, because he was good to her, that it had meant something. She had bared her body and soul to him, only to find out that he had also been lying to her that night, playing with her like a doll who didn’t know any better, who was just happy to get looked at and touched and praised by someone she had once held on such a high pedestal. You let the lights embrace you and warm your skin as you bare yourself once again, trusting this time that it won’t end in shame or hurt or tears. 

When the buildup of your lyrics and chords finally culminate in the song’s cathartic crash, the first thing you feel is relief, like a crushing weight has been lifted off your heart. The crowd’s enthusiastic response to your creation surrounds you, filling your ears and infiltrating your soul, and you can’t help but laugh at the overwhelming feeling. You gesture behind you for your band to meet you at the front of the stage, and you all bow together to another round of raucous cheering before making your way offstage. This time, you do remember to leave Angel behind, satisfied in what the two of you accomplished tonight.

You’re still reveling in the rush of your performance by the time you’re shrouded in the backstage darkness once again, so caught up in the feeling that you nearly forget what your moment of spontaneity was for in the first place. Or rather, who it was for. You didn’t have enough wherewithal to check if Joel would still be lying in wait once you exited the stage, mostly assuming that his ego would get the best of him and he’d just huff his way out to the buses for a smoke once he realized what you were doing.

You assumed wrong.

Before your eyes even have a chance to adjust to the change in lighting, a calloused hand is gripped tight onto your upper arm, dragging you deeper backstage as you exclaim in protest and try to snatch your arm out of the iron hold that traps it.

“What the—Joel?! Get the fuck off me! What are you–”

“Will you fuckin’ quiet down?” Joel hisses next to your ear. “Quit makin’ a goddamn scene, already made enough of one as it is.”

Despite your struggle against him, his size and strength overpower you, and before you know it you’re being shoved into a dressing room, the door getting slammed shut and locked behind you in a second.

“What the fuck, Joel?” you shout up at him as he backs you into the door, finally letting go of your arm to loom over you and brace one of his hands next to your head.

“I can ask you the same goddamn thing. What the fuck was that out there, hm?” He spits back at you.

You massage the aching finger-shaped marks on your skin where he had gripped you, eyeing him with an annoyed expression. “It was just a song, what is your fucking problem?”

He scoffs, rolling his neck as his brows twitch in disbelief. “Just a song, right. Everybody knew that shit was about me.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, both from the anxiety of being confronted like this and the aggravation caused by his egomaniacal tendencies. “You are so fucking self-centered, it’s insane. It could’ve been about anyone—”

“But it wasn’t, huh?” Joel interrupts. “Who else do they know that has a filthy title inked into his hand, as you put it. Gimme a break, sweetheart. As if that same title didn’t have you soakin’ your fuckin’ panties for me last night.”

You hate that you can feel your cunt flutter in response to his words. “Whatever, will you just let me go? This isn’t very professional of you, locking me in your goddamn dressing room just so you can throw a fit,” you retort.

Realization flashes across his face as he steps back from you, breathing a heavy sigh. “Professional…” he speaks quietly, testing out the word, searching for the meaning behind why you had used it so pointedly. “Jesus Christ, is that what this is about? You are such a goddamn child, you know that?”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, crossing your arms now that he’s given you the room to do so. “Didn’t seem to think of me that way last night. I’m a big girl, I can do what I want, why do you care so much if I wrote a stupid song about you?”

Joel shuts his eyes, scrunching up his face like he’s fighting against what he wants to say next. “Because, fuck—This ain’t what I wanted, okay? Said I wanted to keep it professional between us, not that I wanted you to make a goddamn fool outta me in front’a God and everybody.”

“Well, what do you want?” You push, stepping into his space as your blood begins to boil over. “Because I thought you fucking cared about me, and then you just told me to get lost this morning, like none of it meant anything to you—”

“Of course it fuckin’ meant somethin’ to me, Jesus Christ.” Joel says, so breathlessly it’s like the words escape his mouth before he can catch them. “Did this for your own goddamn good—”

“Oh, for my own good?”

“Yes, for your own good. Because I know what you want this to be, and I can’t give that to you, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Joel doesn’t answer, but he shifts his jaw like he considers it, and lets your angered breathing fill the silence.

“Huh?” You provoke, hitting your palms against his broad chest once. Your push hardly does anything to knock him off his balance, but you swear it makes his eyes darken. “Why not?” You demand a second time.

You can tell he wants to bite back, but he suppresses the instinct, instead backing away from you as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Y’ know what, I ain’t gonna do this with you right now. We can talk about this later.”

Joel makes for the exit, but you dart in front of the door handle, feet planted firmly on the ground as you block his only way out. You grit your teeth as you stare up at him, daring him to either do something about it or finish what he started.

He takes another steadying breath. “Really ain’t helpin’ your case much right about now. I suggest you move, sweetheart.” His voice registers a somewhat eerie calm, the kind that a storm usually follows.

“You don’t get to back out of this.”

“Ain’t backin’ out. Said we’re gonna talk about it later. Move.”

You stare at each other in strained silence for a few moments, neither of you in the mood to give in to the other. You doubt that you’re about to bear witness to the first time Joel has ever submitted to someone else, so you slide away from the door, making a vow to yourself to find him after the show and force him to make good on his word.

“‘S what I thought,” he huffs, unlocking the door and slinking out into the hallway. He holds his head a little too high for someone too scared to tell you how he feels, like it’ll eat him alive if he admits to anyone that he really does have a heart.

You step out of the room and watch him walk, waiting until he gets a few paces away from you to grumble under your breath, “Self-centered and a fucking coward.”

Either Joel wasn’t as far out of earshot as you had thought, or the angry thudding of your pulse inside your head had made it difficult to tell just how loud you had said your little dig. He stops in his tracks, giving you a second to sweat before turning around to face you. “What was that?” he asks, but you already know he had heard you loud and clear. He begins to stalk towards you, and that predatory sway of his shoulders has you suddenly feeling meek.

“N-nothing,” you lie, backing into the dressing room as he continues his prowl.

“Nah, go ahead. You wanna do this right now, we’ll do it right now. What’d you say, baby? C’mon.” Joel’s movement forces you backward until the base of your spine hits the edge of the vanity table in the room. You wince at the impact and the sound of the door slamming shut again, and then he’s bracing both of his hands on either side of your hips, caging you in. Joel’s hot breath ghosts against your face as his eyes seem to glow a fiery shade you’ve never seen before. “Say it again.”

You swallow hard, nervous eyes flitting around his face, unsure of the safest place to land, or if there even is one. “Called you a coward…” you admit softly, voice trembling.

“Yeah? I’m a fuckin’ coward? What else, hm? Why don’t you use your big girl words and say to my face what you really wanted to say about me out there instead o’ that bullshit lil’ poem you wrote.” He’s just being mean now, lashing out because you hit him where it hurts. But god fucking dammit, there’s something about the way he’s standing over you, how he’s using his size to intimidate you and how the smell of his cologne mingles with the fading aroma of his last cigarette, that begins to cloud your judgment. You can’t help the way a dampness begins to bloom between your thighs as a result of his demeaning words and close proximity.

You figure you don’t have much of a reason to hold anything back anymore, already having pissed him off by threatening his ego twice in one night. “I hate you,” you rasp, which is pretty much what the lyrics of your song boil down to. You do hate him, for saying all the right things and touching you all the right ways to make you think he wanted the two of you to be something, only to throw your naivety in your face, tell you that you’re acting like a child when he’s the one who tried to give up and walk out when something became more complicated than he could handle.

“Yeah, I bet you do. Think you can do better than that, though, huh? Sure had plenty to say earlier, don’t get all shy on me now, sweetheart.” He spits the pet name at you like it’s an insult, coated in the venom dripping from his sharp canines.

“Fuck you,” you snap, eyes welling up and threatening to spill over despite yourself.

Joel spins you around as soon as the words leave your lips, pinning your wrists behind your back with just one of his hands, using the other one to grip your jaw and make you face your own reflection in the vanity mirror. You shut your eyes tightly, not wanting to confront what he’s reduced you to, and he allows you to keep them that way for now.

“You want me to? That why you’re all fired up, ‘cause you need Daddy to fuck this bratty ass attitude outta you?” Joel rumbles next to your ear.

You struggle to shake your head in his hold, mumbling, “No, I don’t.”

“No? So if I reach my hand under this lil’ dress, I ain’t gonna feel that pretty pussy drippin’ for me?”

You aren’t sure why you bother lying to him again, humming an mm-mm that sounds more like a whimper.

“Hmm, let’s see about that, then,” Joel muses, releasing your face from his hold to bend you forward and flip up the skirt of your dress. “Would you look at that… panties are ‘bout fuckin’ soaked through, ain’t they?” You whine as he begins to rub your folds over your underwear, pulling back the crotch of them and letting it go so that you can feel the damp snap of the fabric against your sensitive skin. “Thought you were such a good girl… you like it a lil’ mean, hm? ‘S that why you pulled that stunt tonight, to get Daddy all worked up so he’d treat you the way you really been wantin’?”

You feel a stinging smack on your ass before you’ve even finished muttering a complete No. Joel’s rough hand does nothing to soothe the burn as he rubs it around your smarted flesh, squeezing at the plush of your ass with a possessive grip. “Had just about enough of you lyin’ to me tonight. Why don’t you tell me the goddamn truth and I’ll give you what you want, hm? Gonna ask one more time. You want Daddy to beat up this lil’ brat pussy?” He asks, moving his hand back to the wet fabric of your panties, circling your clit over the material with the pad of his finger.

You can’t help but moan at his crude language, releasing another pulse of wetness in response. “Mmh, yes, please—” you mewl.

“Open your fuckin’ eyes,” Joel barks, and it startles you into obedience. “Yes, who?” he challenges, making eye contact with your reflection in the mirror.

He continues his ministrations over your covered clit, and you force your brain to work through the distraction, to give him what he wants and not earn yourself another spank.

“Y-yes, Daddy, I want it,” you admit, your voice drenched in a pathetic need. 

Joel swiftly yanks your panties to the side, practically tearing them clean off your body with one hand in an effort to expose your swollen core to him, not daring to release your aching wrists from the other one’s hold. He circles your dripping entrance with the rough tips of two of his fingers, not pushing all the way inside just yet.

“Think you owe me a goddamn apology first, hm?” he taunts, using his fingers to smear your ashamed slick around your entrance.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry–” you whine, pushing back into him impatiently.

Smack. “For what, baby? What’re you sorry for?” Joel presses, his harsh spank telling you to stay fuckin’ still. 

“For… for writing that song… for calling you a c-coward… ‘m sorry, Daddy, I’m sorry–” you cry. He shoves both of his thick fingers inside you as your reward, carving out space for them inside your little hole as he starts up a bruising pace, the obscene wet sounds of his movements filling the room and mingling with your broken little wails. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does, getting ordered around and talked down to and used like this by someone you said you hated only a few minutes ago, but you don’t really care to unpack that right now. Or ever. Maybe you were naive and immature in thinking that this thing you’ve gotten yourself into could ever pan out like what you’ve seen in the movies, but you think you could learn to be content with what he is willing to offer you—praise doled out as easily as he deprives you of it, a firm hand and fingers that can strum along your clit as expertly as he does the strings of his guitar, and a cock that makes you feel like someone else entirely, that can send you somewhere far away and bring you back down to earth at the same time. You let him use his fingers to pound all that angst and fire and attitude out of you as your eyelids flutter shut again, losing yourself in the feeling of him.

“How many times I gotta tell you, huh? Keep ‘em open, look, baby,” Joel commands, letting go of your wrists to deliver a light smack to the side of your face. You fall forward at the sudden release of his hold, catching yourself on the vanity table and digging your nails into the hard surface to ground yourself. His punishing hand forces your gaze straight ahead with a claw-like grip on your jaw, and your eyelids still feel so heavy, everything moving slowly as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your parted lips, smeared mascara, and unfocused gaze paint a debauched version of yourself that you don’t recognize, blurred by the sleepy submissive state he seems to be able to plunge you into so easily. “Take a good goddamn look in the mirror, at what I’m doin’ to you, and you tell me if you really want this.”

Every sharp thrust of his hand against your cunt knocks loose more and more of your ability to think, let alone speak. But you know by now that if Joel demands a response from you, he’ll get one, coherent or not. He seems to like it when your words come out a ruined mess of whines and slurred syllables, anyway, getting off on how hard and fast he can knock down those walls you attempt to put up and turn you into something so servile and saccharine.

“Want it, please, Daddy,” you beg, struggling to hold yourself up as his fingers get you closer and closer to your release.

“You sure about that? ‘Cause this is what you’re gonna get, sweetheart,” Joel grunts, the exaggerated word punctuated by the stretch of a third finger joining the other two inside your already fucked-out cunt.

“D-don’t care, just want you—ah—” you’re cut off by the sudden stroking of Joel’s curled fingers against a particularly tender and unfamiliar spot inside you. You begin to unravel at the overwhelming feeling, letting out little wanton pleases and Daddys as you continue to soak his tattooed hand.

“Fuck, gonna be the goddamn death o’ me, lil’ songbird, you know that? Tried to stop this shit before it could get started, tried to keep you away from me, but I just can’t seem to fuckin’ help myself, can I? We’d be nothin’ but bad for each other, but—shit—been thinkin’ ‘bout this tight cunt all goddamn day, couldn’t get the taste o’ you outta my mouth. Reckon I never will… In fact—” Joel pulls his fingers out of you in an instant, and you cry out from the sudden loss as you watch him suck them clean in the mirror. You feel dizzy, letting him manhandle you as he spins you around to face him and hoists you on top of the vanity table with little effort. He groans as he crouches, pulling your drenched panties down your legs and tossing them somewhere behind him. With your raw-looking cunt now fully exposed to him, he spreads your legs wide and curses under his breath, “Should’a done this shit last night, fuck—” before diving in between your thighs and licking a long stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit. He latches onto the sensitive nub, closing his eyes and sucking hard as his large hands force your legs to stay open. You let your upper back rest against the mirror as he works you over, and the cool glass sends a shiver down your spine as your hips tilt upward, allowing him better access.

He drinks from you as if you taste like his favorite top-shelf whiskey, growling into your flesh as he’s surely leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on the softness of your thighs. He alternates between swirling his tongue around your clit and fucking it in and out of your hole, beckoning you to spill yourself into his mouth. He savors every wave of slick that pours from you, each of your little cries and whimpers making his cock strain harder against the confines of his jeans. 

You can’t help but let one of your hands drift to his hair, and he doesn’t stop you from grabbing onto his messy curls as you buck pathetically against his tongue. 

“Such a sweet lil’ cunt, got me fuckin’ addicted to it, I swear…” Joel half-whispers, rubbing his thumb in circles around your clit to make up for the absence of his tongue as he speaks, your hips still desperately chasing after his movements. He spits onto your folds once, watching it drip between the curves of them for a moment before lapping up your combined juices and picking up where he left off. Your eyes are shut tight, brows peaked with need as you beg him to keep going, please, Daddy, gonna come.

Joel pulls away again just enough to tease, “Always come for me so easily, don’t you? Sing for me, songbird, c’mon.” A few more rough strums of his thumb and pulses of his tongue have you crying out, shaking where you sit on the table as you gush into his waiting mouth. Joel works you through it as you practically ride his face, your hips twitching with each overstimulating flick of his tongue over your sensitive clit.

He doesn’t wait very long for you to come back into yourself, the impatient bastard that he is, before he’s commanding you to open and using his strong fingers to yank your jaw downward. Your eyes blink open just in time to watch him spit a mouthful of your own release onto your waiting tongue, and then he’s pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss, tongues twisting around each other as he forces you to taste yourself. So immersed in the distraction of finally feeling his lips against your own, you don’t notice when he loosens his grip on your face to grab one of your hands instead, placing it on his still-clothed bulge and growling into your mouth as you massage the hard shape of him.

“Feel what you do to me, babygirl?” Joel breaks the kiss to ask, voice low and eyes dark. “Even if I kept you away from me, wouldn’t fuckin’ matter. Still have to take care o’ myself one way or another, would just be pretendin’ it was your perfect cunt squeezin’ me instead o’ my hand, anyway. Might as well stick to the real thing, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree, lashes fluttering at his filthy words.

“Yeah? You want it? Want Daddy to split you open again?”

Your skin is burning hot, every one of your nerve endings on fire with need, and you don’t care how pitiful you sound when you answer with, “Please, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” Joel praises. He makes quick work of ridding himself of his belt, tossing it aside to join your discarded panties on the floor with a metallic thud before freeing his leaking cock from his jeans. He prods the thick head at your entrance, still so wet and stretched out from the earlier efforts of his fingers and tongue that he slides inside with hardly any resistance. “Greedy thing…” he hisses, holding onto your hips as he watches his thick length begin to slide in and out of you. A flash of silver catches his attention from the edge of his vision, and he focuses there instead, on the cross shaped charm dangling from your neck and resting between your breasts. He picks it up between his large thumb and forefinger, rubbing the pads of them along the smooth metal. “Probably shouldn’t be wearin’ such a thing anymore, hm? Now that I know how much of a whore you really are.”

“Not… ‘m not a whore,” you counter, but it’s so futile, meaning nothing at all when you really take a look at where you are now, how it all began, and how your voice cracks in your poor attempt to prove him wrong.

“Y’ are, though, songbird. ‘S okay that you are. Only for me though, huh? Jus’ Daddy’s whore? All mine?” Joel drops the cross in favor of cradling your cheek, hurrying his pace as he taunts you. There’s no use in denying it, not when his degrading words prompt your cunt to squeeze around him and provide more slick aid for his quickening thrusts, an involuntary whine escaping your throat. You’re seeing such a different side to him now than the one he showed you the night before, and you begin to wonder which one is the real Joel, or if either of them are, or if both of them are, somehow. Or if he even knows. You’re willing to take whichever one he decides to let you have, you think.

“Y-your whore, Daddy… wanna be yours, please,” you babble, his cock hitting you deep and hard as you let him fuck you so dumb you allow yourself to just give in and agree to whatever he says you are, whatever he wants you to be, just the way he likes.

“Fuck,” Joel curses through gritted teeth, removing his hand from your face and to grip onto the plush of your hip again. Your pliant state and filthy admission combined with that sinful symbol around your neck spur him on, and he uses his hold on your skin to fuck into you with abandon. “Really would just let me ruin you, huh? Tried to be a decent man for once in my goddamn life, but you just had to be a fuckin’ brat about it and start some shit, didn’t you? If you don’t want me decent, tha’s fine by me, baby. But lemme make somethin’ real goddamn clear to you,” he rambles, each slam of his hips into yours getting you closer to release for the second time. He delivers another sharp slap to your cheek with a You listenin’? and you nod to the best of your ability, finding it impossible to focus your eyes on him as that knot in your stomach begins to tighten.

“You want this, you wanna be mine, you can be mine, babygirl. Lord knows I’d find my way right back inside this sinful lil’ cunt, anyway. But this ain’t gonna be a fuckin’ relationship, you understand? Take it or leave it, songbird.” He slows his thrusts as he spells out his ultimatum, but they still make you ache, all the same. His fiery gaze bores a hole straight through your skull as he awaits your response.

“Take it, w-wanna take it, Daddy.” The desperation in your voice and painted across your expression have him returning to his punitive pace, grunting and swearing into the warm skin of your neck as your hands scramble across his back, pulling yourself into him and burying your face into his shoulder. His thick leather jacket helps to muffle your cries as he loses all control, using your body to chase after his own high.

“Course you’re gonna take it, filthy thing. Made to fuckin’ take it, Christ,” Joel rambles, your vocalizations increasing in pitch as you squeeze around him, whole body tensing as your sore pussy prepares to drench him one more time. “So goddamn desperate… Just take whatever I give you, however I wanna give it to you, always have you comin’ on my cock just the same, huh? Go on, babygirl, come for Daddy again, tha’s right…”

With his permission, and a few more just-right strokes of his tip against that sweet spot deep inside your walls, you’re spasming in his hold, whining that filthy title you had just used against him less than an hour ago. He spills his release into you at the same time, and despite the way he’s treated you and the words he’s spat at you tonight, it makes you feel whole again.

You breathe heavily against each other for a few minutes, neither of you wanting to let go as you both struggle to process what the hell just happened, what it will mean for the remainder of the tour. 

A sudden knock at the door quickly yanks you out of your thoughts, offering a taste of what the future may hold much earlier than you were expecting.

“Joel? You in there?” a voice asks from outside the dressing room.

“Huh…? Yeah, just gimme a–”

The door opens before Joel can finish answering, and you can see clear as day over his shoulder that it’s Jesse.

He claps his hand over his eyes when he notices you, but you can still see how his cheeks burn red under his fingers as he shifts where he stands, undoubtedly trying to come up with the least mortifying way to get himself out of this situation.

“Jesus, kid–” Joel grumbles, finally pulling out of you and shoving his still-slick cock back into his briefs. He zips himself up as you tug the skirt of your dress back down to cover yourself, still feeling much more exposed than you’d like as you eye your forgotten panties laying just a few feet from where Jesse stands.

“Sorry! Sorry, Joel. It’s just, uh—”

Joel turns to face him as he finishes adjusting himself, and you’re thankful that he doesn’t walk away from you completely, using his broad form to provide you with what little modesty he can afford under the circumstances. “What, Jess?” he barks, exasperated.

“Um… The guys asked me to come find you, we’re on in like a minute—” 

“Well, tell ‘em to hold their fuckin’ horses. I’m comin,” Joel orders.

“A-alright, I will, man. I’ll, uh… I’ll see you out there.” 

Jesse leaves the room as hurriedly as he had entered, nervously fumbling with the handle as he shuts the door on his way out. “That kid ever learn how to fuckin’ knock?” Joel mutters to himself, picking his belt up off the floor and looping it back around his waist. He retrieves your ruined panties when he’s done and casually tosses them over to you, a stark contrast from the attentive aftercare he had provided last night. You slide off the vanity table and tug them back on over your legs, shivering at the feeling of the cool, damp fabric against where you’re so sensitive and sore, still leaking Joel’s spend. You fidget with the hem of your dress and try to ignore the way your heart sinks into your stomach, wondering what Jesse must think of you now. You haven’t really spoken to him at all since this whole thing started, and you doubt you ever will after what happened tonight. Of course, he’d had a front row seat to your obscene little performance during Kiss it Better, but it was all just an act, as far as he knew. But he has more than enough confirmation now to know that it very much wasn’t, and the humiliation of it all makes your anxious imagination begin to run wild. Your bottom lip quivers at the thought of Jesse running straight back to the guys with a shit-eating look on his face, eager to tell them all about how he just saw their opening act with her legs spread for Joel in his dressing room. Images flash through your mind of the band you’ve looked up to for so long now shooting you dirty looks backstage and whispering about you amongst themselves, sharing their doubts about if you really deserve to be touring with them at all. Maybe they’d call you easy, say that you’re just another dumb slut who gave it up for the first rockstar who asked, that your career will be doomed unless you grow up and learn to respect yourself a little more. And maybe they’d be right.

You can’t stop a few hot tears from rolling down your cheek at your catastrophizing, but you wipe them away quickly. This is what you asked for, isn’t it? Joel had given you an opportunity to leave this where he had ended it, and you were the one who had begged to be his, even after he showed you what it would look like, and told you explicitly what it would never be. You pull your shoulders back and make an effort to stand up a little straighter as he addresses you again, not wanting to look like some pathetic, defeated thing.

“You good? Need anythin’?” Joel asks, and it would be kind of sweet if he weren’t halfway out the door already. 

You sniffle a little, but try to feign nonchalance as you shake your head and reply, “No, ‘m fine.”

You must not do a very good job of it, because he’s craning his neck to look down the hallway as soon as you finish your sentence, like he knows exactly what’s on your mind. “Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Joel says to you, giving an annoyed shake of his head. “If he knows what’s good for him he’ll go to his grave swearin’ he didn’t see anything. Kid knows better,” he reassures, and it does help to slow the unspooling of your thoughts some. 

“Okay,” is all you offer, along with a small smile.

Joel nods curtly, “Okay.” And after another beat and a rake of his eyes along your form, “I’ll see ya, songbird.”

He’s gone before you can reply, and you let the sound of the door closing ring out in your ears until you’re left in total silence, save for the sound of your own unsteady breathing. More than anything else, you just want to head back to your bus and scrub yourself clean of him, to put on unstained clothes and remove your ruined makeup so that you have a better chance of recognizing yourself in the mirror if you’re unfortunate enough to catch a glimpse of your reflection. Maybe if you hurry the pace of your walk of shame, you can outrun the feeling altogether, you think, swinging the dressing room door open and letting it slam behind you as you make a swift exit, heading straight for the one place that even slightly resembles a home to you right now. You keep your head low as you wander the unfamiliar backstage halls, and hold the skirt of your dress down against the breeze that threatens to expose you yet again when you push open the venue’s back door. More tears begin to fall as your boots carry you up the steps of your bus and lead you to your private little room in the back, and you don’t wipe them away this time, although you can’t put your finger on why they stream down your skin so impatiently, one stinging droplet after another.

You sit down heavily on the edge of your bed, although you have a strange urge to kneel at the foot of it instead. Your fingers find their way to your crucifix as you contemplate the idea, and it hits you all at once how very lost you feel. You miss… something. Your mother? Perhaps not, but maybe the idea of having a caregiver, someone to turn to when you feel the way you do now, to help you sort through the tangled knot of emotions unraveling itself in your heart and attempt to make some kind of sense of it. She wasn’t the perfect mother, by any means, but she tried, and it was her first time being a woman too, after all. You are following in her footsteps, as many daughters aspire to do with their mothers, but you don’t think she would be very proud of the particular path of hers you’ve begun to find yourself stumbling down—the one that leads you to a man who won’t change himself, who can’t, but who you’ve somehow convinced yourself that you deserve, because you’ve never known a man who’s told you otherwise. 

And now here you sit, alone, in the dark cave of your too-big bus on the second night of a career-changing national tour, crying girlish tears and missing something you can’t place but that you know you can’t go back to, wishing someone could just wipe your mind clean and tell you that you’re good and that you’re not a disappointment to your mother and God even though you don’t really care what they think of you anymore, anyway. You need someone to tell you who you are, and Joel seems to know the answer—a good girl, a whore, his songbird. You shift at the memories of when those names for you have spilled from his mouth, and you’re reminded of the wet fabric still pressed against your core. It feels good when he tells you who you are, after all, when he slots himself inside of you and makes you feel like something he owns, when he makes you feel perfect and floaty and beautiful and like he knows you better than you’ve ever known yourself.

And how could something that feels so good ever be bad for you?

—

The whiskey burns as it slides down the back of Joel’s throat, but it still isn’t strong enough. All it does is remind him of the igniting spark that led to the blaze now engulfing him—when you’d both had a few glasses of the stuff swimming around in your blood streams in the green room of last night’s venue, when he’d lured you onto his lap and teased the wet spot on your panties and asked if you’d let him touch you. He knew you were going to say yes, but it was still the respectable thing to do, and he had liked hearing you beg for it all pretty and polite. He fears that’s the last he may have seen of that version of you, that what he did this morning had stomped out the little delicate, glimmering light that had drawn him to you in the first place. And if it wasn’t snuffed out then, it’s surely nothing but a wisp of smoke now.

Joel had recognized when everything had started to become too real too fast, in the dark of his bus last night when even in your sleep, you had seemed to consider him as something warm and comforting and safe, instead of the beast that he knows himself to be, with too sharp of claws and too loud of a roar. He had tried to do the right thing for once in his goddamn life by finally thinking about someone other than himself, so why didn’t you take the opportunity to get out of this while you had the chance? What is it that you see in him that he knows for a fact isn’t there, has never been there? You had retaliated because you had wanted this to work, because he had hurt you when he shoved you away, but he can’t possibly fathom why you’ve chosen to fight so hard for this. And he’d only gone and proved himself right when he responded to your reprisal the only way he knows how, especially when you’d used that word against him that he’s always been avoidant to admit about himself—coward.

And you were right, weren’t you? Joel is a fucking coward. He does everything in his power to pretend otherwise, to show his fans and the world a version of himself who’s never for a second thought of himself as anything less than God incarnate. And maybe except for Tommy, no one has ever been the wiser to his ruse, until you. And it scares him, to be seen so clearly. Because then he might actually have to try to understand where all these defense mechanisms came from in the first place, and he can’t have that. 

Coward.

Joel tosses back the last of the amber liquid in his glass, releasing his white-knuckled grip on it and slamming it back down onto the green room’s bar cart. He knows that his band and about twenty thousand people are waiting for him to buck up and emerge from yet another hiding place, and he realizes that this is becoming a pattern with you—you awaken some long-dormant feeling from deep inside of him, it makes him feel threatened, and he retreats until it goes away and he remembers how to paint his mask back on. And the one time you didn’t allow him to run away, he lashed out like a caged animal and undoubtedly gave you a pretty solid idea of what he meant by “for your own good”. And yet, you were so desperate to be allowed any part of him at all that even in his most volatile and beastly state, with his talons out and his teeth bared, you didn’t run away. You didn’t even try. You didn’t want to. You took everything he had given you like it was a privilege to do so, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever understand why. 

Joel shakes himself out, hitting a solid hand against his cheek once in order to bring himself back from the depths of another unwanted episode of introspection and self-loathing, and lets the burn of the whiskey dissipate as he makes his way to where the rest of Death’s Head is waiting for him. He can feel their eyes on him without even needing to look, and snaps out a defensive I don’t wanna hear it before any of the guys get a chance to say anything. 

Tommy shrugs, stepping up to Joel with his arms crossed. “Wasn’t gonna say nothin’.” 

Joel finally turns to face the group, giving each member a scrutinizing once-over in an attempt to read their body language, to suss out if they’re just pissed because he left them waiting, or if Jesse ran his mouth while he was gone. When Joel’s examining eyes land on the dark-haired guitarist, Jesse’s quick to shake his head, mouthing the words they don’t know. Satisfied, Joel nods once in understanding, adjusting his jacket and cracking his neck before turning toward the stage again.

“Y’all ready, or what?” he mutters rhetorically, not bothering to wait for an answer before he marches his way into the spotlights and allows them to enshroud him, burning up what remains of that cowardly version of him, if only for the remainder of the night. Joel picks up his guitar, swinging the strap around his chest before fiddling with his mic stand as the deafening sound of the crowd reminds him of who the fuck he is, or at least, who they think he is. Who he pretends to be. And he gets to believe it for the next two hours. If he plays the part well enough, maybe he can lose himself in it entirely. But then, hasn’t he been trying to do that for the past couple of decades? It hasn’t seemed to work yet, but it doesn’t hurt to keep trying. 

Or maybe it does.

—

You feel a little better now, more at ease, now that you’ve had some time to focus on taking care of yourself. It’s easy to forget the wonders that a hot shower can do for a girl, especially when you have to fight against your own brain just to get up and take the ten or so steps towards the bathroom, when you’d much rather stay curled up in the same position on your bed until your skin adheres to the sheets. Now having scrubbed away the tears and the sweat and the tacky dampness between your thighs, you emerge from a cloud of rose-scented humidity as someone you think you understand a little better now, who deserves to be taken care of instead of reprimanded for only doing her best with what she’s been given.

With clean hair and skin and a comfortable change of sleep-ready attire, you decide to finally make some efforts to unpack your suitcase and make your little room feel more like a home. You hang your dresses up on the rack, set your shoes into a somewhat orderly line on the carpet below them, and place your jewelry neatly onto the antique tray you had carefully packed away to bring along with you. You had found it in a little thrift store downtown, when you had first left home and decided you needed something that was only yours, something pretty and special that you could look at everyday and know that it was the very first step in building the life that you had always wanted for yourself. The brass needs a little polishing, but it’s still one of the most beautiful objects you’ve ever seen, and the way the ceiling lights glint off the metal brightens up your space just enough that it feels a little more familiar to you now. 

Your earrings and other necklaces fill the blank space in the center of the neatly carved filigree, and you make the decision to add your crucifix to the pile of silver studs and chains. It’s strange how such a simple charm can make things feel so complicated. You haven’t taken it off in so long that you fear the guilt that might come with removing it, but you figure it will still be there for you if you ever feel like clipping it around your neck again. And if that feeling never comes, then you’ll deal with that then, too.

For now, you breathe a little deeper without the weight of the thing resting against your chest, and smile to yourself when you hear a small group of excitable-sounding male voices approaching your bus. Your bandmates file through the door a second later, though you’re suddenly shy to greet them as you emerge from your bedroom, worried that they might be pissed at you for what you sprung on them earlier in the night. You lean against the doorframe as they each collapse onto the living area couches, cracking open beers from the minifridge and passing them around to each other.

“Hey, you,” greets your floppy-haired drummer, Max, patting the cushion next to him. If any of the guys were to be easy going about what you put them through tonight, it would be him. You’re happy to see that he doesn’t seem to hold any animosity towards you. “You want me to crack one open for you?” he offers.

“Um… sure,” you agree, approaching the group and relaxing into the open seat next to him as he hands you a bottle. You take a few swigs while the guys begin to talk amongst themselves, waiting for an opportune lull in their conversation for you to chime in.

It comes about halfway through your beer. “So, listen,” you start, setting the sweating bottle on the table in front of you as you feel their gazes shift in your direction. “I’m sorry for pulling that on you guys tonight. This whole thing is just as big for y’all as it is for me and… I guess I forgot about that, for a second,” you say, although the end of your sentence kind of sounds like a question. “I really appreciate how you backed me up out there, that’s all.”

It’s rare that the four of you get sincere with each other like this, and your apology lingers in the air for a moment before someone else speaks up. 

“It’s alright, kid.” The comforting voice comes from Scott, your quiet and kind-eyed bassist. “We’re all professionals here, yeah? We’d be some sad fuckin’ musicians if we couldn’t improvise every once in a while.” You laugh at that, and his lopsided smile warms you when you meet his soft expression.

“I mean, I kinda fucked up a little bit,” says Joey, your rhythm guitarist, ever-reliable for lightening the mood. “You sounded badass though, so whatever. Nothin’ you need to apologize for.” When you turn your head to look at him, he looks slightly uncomfortable with the way Max has him pressed up against the wall, but his gaze is sincere. “You wanna talk about it, though? Some pretty heavy shit you wrote.”

You do consider it, but shake your head, having reflected on it quite enough for one night. “Not right now,” you reply, and he gives you a sympathetic smile in return. “One of you have a smoke, though? Think I’m just gonna get some air and call it a night.” 

“Now, how are you gonna ‘get some air’ with all that smoke in your lungs?” Scott jests, and you give him a look before standing up and holding your palm out flat to him, making a hand it over gesture with your fingers. 

“Don’t give me shit, dude, I know you have one. That’s why I asked.”

Despite his protest, he digs the pack out of his pocket and slides one out, playfully holding it hostage against his chest. “Still shouldn’t smoke ‘em, though. Gonna ruin your voice one of these days.”

You roll your eyes at him, but laugh, anyway. “Fine, tonight’s my last one, I promise. Just gimme.”

Scott extends his hand out to you, and you snatch the cigarette out of his hold. “Light, too?” he asks, and you nod, leaning down to him with it in your mouth already.

You make a quick exit when the tobacco begins to burn, trying to fill the bus with as little smoke as possible, but not before making your appreciation known to the guys one last time. When you step out into the chilly night air, you wish you’d brought a sweater to wrap around you, but figure the flame between your lips will warm you up soon enough. 

The Death’s Head bus is parked just up ahead, and you can make out Jesse’s silhouette in the moonlight, his back leaned against the idling vehicle as he puffs his own cloud into the sky. The sound of your bus’s door shutting behind you draws his attention your way, and you give each other a friendly nod as you each burn through your cigarettes.

“Can I join you?” he asks, having to shout in order for his voice to reach you over the rumbling engines.

The fears you were ruminating on a few hours ago all come rushing back to you in an instant, but his inquiry seems casual enough for you to let your guard back down a little. It would be rude of you to decline, and it might be nice to get to know him a bit more if he’s offering, you suppose.

“Yeah, okay,” you reply, nodding for good measure in case your voice didn’t come out loud enough. His long legs close the short distance between you in just a few seconds, and you shove your unoccupied hand into your pocket in an effort to come across more relaxed than you feel. You’ve never been great at small talk, or meeting new people, especially ones who’ve walked in on you after having just been fucked by the lead singer of his band. 

You’re grateful that Jesse decides to break the silence first. “So, uh… you two, huh?”

“Mhm,” is all you offer, kicking a rock around the asphalt with the toe of your shoe.

“Yeah… Well, I don’t want you to feel weird around me, or anything. We can just forget it ever happened.”

You can’t help but release a puff of smoke through an awkward giggle. “Sounds good to me.”

“And I didn’t tell the other two, just so you know.”

His admission makes you pause, trapping the rock underneath your shoe as you peer up at him. “You didn’t? So… they don’t know?���

Jesse shakes his head. “Don’t think so. Well, Tommy might, just ‘cause he knows Joel better than anybody, but Eugene’s probably clueless. They’re all good guys, they won’t give you shit for it even if they do find out… I might, though, just for fun.” He nudges your shoulder with his as he jokes, and it makes you laugh a little more earnestly this time. “Just… be careful, that’s all. And I want you to know you have a friend in me, if you ever feel like you need one.”

His kindness is nearly enough to bring you to tears. You feel so relieved that everything the worst parts of your brain had conjured up had all been a lie, that Jesse isn’t who you feared he’d be, and that he’s offering you his friendship, even after he’d seen you in such an embarrassing and compromising state tonight. 

“Jess!” Joel yells from the doorway of his bus, and the harsh gravel voice startles both of you out of the moment you’d been sharing. “Finish up, kid. Takin’ off in a few.”

Jesse nods, raising the end of his cigarette in acknowledgement before stomping it out on the pavement. “It was nice talking to you. Remember what I said, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod, and he’s handsome and boyish when he smiles back at you before following his orders and jogging back to his own bus, sliding through the door past Joel’s broad form.

Joel’s expression is hard, but otherwise unreadable as he juts his chin at you, wordlessly suggesting the same direction he’d just barked at Jesse. He shuts the door behind him as he steps inside, and you think on Jesse’s words as you finish puffing your smoke down to a nub. Be careful, he’d cautioned, and it’s like he had been waiting outside for you to make sure he had a chance to tell you that. Remember what I said, like it was important to him that you took his words to heart. You finally toss the end of your own cigarette onto the ground, letting it sizzle out before heading back inside and carefully passing the now-occupied bunks as you make your way to your own little sanctuary. 

You’re still buzzing from the tobacco as you close yourself into your room and crawl into bed, and you can’t decide if the emptiness of it makes you feel comforted or afraid. You don’t necessarily wish you had Joel’s heavy, lumbering form tucked in beside you, but you hadn’t anticipated how having a bed to yourself would leave you with only the company of your own thoughts. You try not to dwell too much on Jesse’s warning, instead trying to snuff it out like the smoldering end of your cigarette so that it doesn’t prevent you from getting some much needed rest.

Even for being a bed inside of a tour bus, you have to admit that it’s one of the most comfortable, luxurious things you’ve ever slept on, especially compared to the lumpy double bed from back in your apartment. You don’t fight it when sleep begins to pull heavily on your eyelids, the incoming wave of it washing away any lingering anxieties as you allow yourself to relax into the plush mattress.

You hardly rouse even as the bus heaves forward on its trip out of the parking lot, leaving everything that happened tonight exactly where you left it, the ghost of it now left to wander the halls of the venue instead of haunting you as you travel to the next one. And there’s something comforting in that, you think, in the idea that nothing on this tour is permanent, that your life begins anew every 24 hours in a city you’ve never been to that doesn’t know your name yet. 

And maybe that’s how you’ll figure this whole thing out, by taking it one day at a time, fluttering as close to the flame as possible without touching it, because you kind of like feeling the heat on your wings. As long as you’re careful when you dance around the fire, then there’s really nothing to be afraid of.

But only time will tell.

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a lover’s pinch | masterlist

professor!joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni series summary: a one-night stand with a charming texan turns into something much more thrilling when you discover he is your new college professor. joel miller is entirely off limits. but now that you’ve had a taste, will you be able to keep your hands to yourselves? series warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], alcohol consumption, ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, explicit smut, angst, secret relationship, joel has both his daughters, joel's profession is very ooc but the core of his personality [grumpy], lore [dilf], mannerisms [being a secret softy] etc etc are all as true to character as my two humble hands can manage. explicit warnings included in each part. main masterlist ziggy's moodboard | ziggy’s moodboard II sil's moodboard ALP playlist

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten |

╰┈➤ night breeze [an ALP interlude set between seven & eight]