#/I AM WEAK FOR MY MILLER GIRLS

[outoftheseine]

- JOEL MILLER FIC RECS -

(most of these fics are age-gap romance. some fics have mature content (+18) so minors please respect the authors and do not interact). also please beware of the canon trigger warnings (violence, language, guns, death, blood etc.))

part 2 | main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

one thing i am missing • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @joelscruff (fluff, smut)

to do the right thing • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @pedgeitopascal (very angsty, tw: abortion and ppd, childbirth)

if the door wasn't shut • joel miller x platonic!reader

↳ by @heartpascal (very angsty)

joel miller x feral!fem!reader

↳ by @ohraicodoll (angst, lots of blood, sometimes gore, reader has a given nickname, smut)

if he wanted to • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @sl-ut (angsty, tw: mentions of suicide and sa, drug use)

twenty years later • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @yelena-bellova (angst)

weakness • joel miller x fem!reader part two

↳ by @pedgeitopascal (fluff, little angst, smut)

the stable girl • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @guess-my-next-obsession (mature, angst, fluff)

friendly fire • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (angst, smut)

uneven odds • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @theetherealbloom (angst, fluff, smut, anxiety)

burning in a hopeless dream • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @tightjeansjavi (angst, implied smut)

ONE-SHOTS/BLURBS

from love and life • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @bubbles-for-all-of-us (child birth, fluff)

adjustments • joel miller x fem!teacher!reader

by @softlyspector (fluff, smut, mentions of dead loved ones, tw: mentions of suicide)

kiss it better • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @morningbluebell (mostly fluff)

why can't i breathe? • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @oliviajdjarin (fluff, flustered joel)

no time to die • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @davosmymaster (very angsty, hurt/comfort, chef's kiss, so good)

she's a gun • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @cowgurrrl (fluff)

darlin' • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @charnelhouse (angst, tw: sexual assault and mentions of suicide, smut, hurt/comfort)

alone and foresaken • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @chelseasdagger (smut, very good smut actually)

once again in your arms • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @foli-vora (angst, tw: loss of a child, fluff)

too late • joel miller x reader

↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, injuries, hurt/comfort)

don't let me drown • joel miller x reader

↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, hurt/comfort, tw: drowning, some nudity but nothing explicit)

nightmares • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @youlightmeupfinn (tw: panic attacks, nightmare, hurt/comfort)

saving • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @youlightmeupfinn (angst, hurt/comfort, joel being an asshole)

a house in nebraska • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @highdramas (angsty, heavy feeling of nostalgia, mentions of sexual interactions)

spring breeze • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @thedgeoftheuniverse (fluff, hurt/comfort)

for you, anything • joel miller x reader

↳ by @mellowsaturns (fluff, sick!reader, domesticty)

perfectly wrong • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @psychedelic-ink (enemies to lovers, smut)

domesticty looks good on you • joel miller x reader

↳ by @girlscull (sooo fluffy)

ghosts of his past • joel miller x reader

↳ by @lol-im-done (very angsty, made me cry)

soft touches • joel miller x reader

↳ by @theeoriginals (fluff, hurt/comfort)

close call • joel miller x reader

↳ by @rogueonestan (hurt/comfort, angst)

first kill • joel miller x reader

↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, hurt/comfort)

illusory light • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @lavendertales (angst, injuries, fluff)

playing house • joel miller x reader

↳ by @me-and-your-husband (some angst, smut)

try to love me, honey please • joel miller x reader

↳ by @peterhollandkait (hurt/comfort, angst, sad and soft joel, mentions of blood and death)

confused warmth • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @rise-my-angel (angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut)

soft spot • joel miller x gn!reader

↳ by @orangevtae (very fluffy, some hurt/comfort, sunshine x grumpy)

love in the time of cordyceps • joel millet x fem! reader

↳ by @sameheart-sameblood (angst, fluff, mentions of blood)

one bed • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @frannyzooey (good old one bed trope, explicit)

sleeping bag • joel miller x reader

↳ by @quin-ns (very fluffy)

lavender haze • joel miller x pregnant!fem!reader

↳ by @forever-rogue (soo fluffy, made my heart flutter)

intent • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @forever-rogue (angst, joel is an asshole, fluff)

[me-and-your-husband]

yours truly and forever || j. miller

summary: you find ellie and joel in need of help, desperately. you take care of the two, when affection for joel creeps up on you and you can’t shake it. he can’t stay, but maybe, if you don’t think too hard about it, that won’t matter. 

an extension from the end of episode six, “kin”. 

warnings: female reader, kinda reference to the events of the game, so potential spoilers for the season i guess?, angst, smut, smut with feels, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink (?), half proofread, not as feral as what i usually write? kinda soft sex. let me know if i missed anything.

word count: 5.6k (i think this is officially my longest fic???)

A/N: episode six destroyed me on a different level. didn’t stop my thirst tho. also, i am NOT a medical professional so the terminology and stuff is probably not correct. tried my best.

here’s my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my work!

“I think we’re safe.” Joel’s weak body slumped off the horse, falling into the snow. “Joel, no, no, no! Shit,” Ellie cursed as she dismounted the horse and scrambled to him. She called his name to no avail, using his hands to cover the festering wound on his abdomen. “Joel, open your eyes. Open your eyes. Joel, you gotta get up,” she pleaded. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I can’t fucking do this without you. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, or what the fuck I’m gonna do. Joel! Please. Joel, please.”

She sat fisting his collar, pleading for him to open his eyes, when she heard the sound of hooves shuffling through the snow. She first thought Shimmer had run off. Whipping around, the horse was right where she left it. The panic that was already coursing through her became more potent. She reached for her gun, ducking in the snow next to Joel. She could almost taste her fear on her tongue as a figure on a black horse trotted over to Shimmer. Reaching out a hand to stroke Shimmer’s muzzle, the figure said, “Hey, girl. Where’d you come from?” It was a woman’s voice. Ellie clutched her gun, just the way Joel had taught her. The woman dismounted her horse, boots crunching in the snow as she walked around Shimmer. When her gaze trailed down to the young girl with a gun pointing at her, she brought her hands up slowly, non-threateningly. 

“Stay back!” Ellie shouted. She couldn’t see much of the woman, a bandana covering her neck, reaching under her eyes. She had a hat on, one of the ones Maria had worn in Jackson. She was well bundled for the weather, Ellie noted. Must live around here. 

“I’m not here to hurt you. Just saw a stray horse. Thought someone might need help, is all,” you said, hands still in the air. “And it looks like I was right.”

Ellie glanced towards Joel. “How do I know you’re not gonna kill us? Fucking eat us, or something?” She spat. 

You laughed, “I’m not going to eat you. That’s what my cattle and crops are for.” You told her your name. “I’ve got a house just a few miles up. I was doing a perimeter check before I found you, actually. It’s secure. I can help your dad there.”

Ellie didn’t bother correcting you. Instead, she contemplated taking you up on your offer. Well, if she didn’t go with you, Joel was dead. If Joel died, she might as well be dead too. “Fine.”

“Will you lower your gun so I can help him?”

She put her gun down, watching as you calmly moved towards Joel, hiking him up over your shoulder and situating him on top of your horse. You sat behind him, his weight fully leaning against you, as Ellie mounted her horse. “This way,” you said, pressing your calf into your horse’s ribcage to get her to go. Ellie followed close behind as you led her to your home. 

“Why’re you helping us?” Ellie asked when you were about halfway there.

You took a few seconds to answer. “There was a time when I needed someone to help me, but nobody would. This way, come on.”

You put the passcode into the keypad, opening the gate, gesturing for Ellie and Shimmer to go in first. You followed her, instructing her towards the large white house that sat in the middle of the property. When you got to the porch, you dismounted the horse and placed the man back over your shoulder, climbing up the steps. Ellie dismounted too, looking for some place to tie the lead. 

“Don’t worry about that. Fence goes all around the place. Come help me open this door,” you said, occupied with trying not to let him fall from your shoulders. His frame was much bigger than yours, making it difficult to balance. Ellie twisted the nob and pushed the door open. You found your couch immediately, laying him down as gently as you could, shoving a pillow under his head. “Stay here with him. I’m gonna go grab my kit.”

She waited there with Joel until you returned, squeezing his hand, praying for him to wake up. Praying that they were safe here. 

When you returned, you were carrying a giant leather bag. She had expected a simple first aid kit. At her puzzled expression, you said, “Normally, I’m doing surgery on the horses or cows, not men.” She nodded in understanding.

As you set up with bedpans, scalpels, scissors, gauze, anything you might need, Ellie took a moment to look around. Hung on your walls were portraits of anything and everything. She’d always loved art, never having the time to really explore it herself. This place didn’t look like it was home to someone who was gonna slaughter them. “I’m Ellie,” she said, making you turn from your stool by the couch. “That’s Joel.”

You gave a reassuring smile. “Nice to meet you, Ellie.” Now, you pulled down the fabric from your mouth and threw your hat down on the floor, shucking your jacket off too, hoping it would make you less intimidating to the young girl. “Might wanna get comfortable. This’ll take awhile. 

Ellie made herself a home on the loveseat adjacent to the couch Joel was on, taking her jacket off and laying it next to her backpack. “How did this even happen?” you asked as you sanitized your tools.

“He got stabbed,” she said, looking down at her hands. “He didn’t even notice at first. He…” she trailed off. You gave her a look of understanding.

You cleaned the area and got to work. You were happy that he was unconscious. All you had was horse tranquillizer, and you were almost positive that it would kill him. Joel twitched and squirmed a little, but you were calm as you worked.

Ellie’s eyelids were drooping and her head was falling when she heard you say, “All done,” as you wiped your bloody hands on a rag. She got up to get a look at Joel. His bloodied shirt and jacket were off, showing the wound on his abdomen, all stitched up. “See that area around the wound?” You said, fingers gently grazing over the skin. “It’s pink. Means there’s probably an infection. I’ll see what I have, but I don’t think I have enough antibiotics,” you said as you cleaned the blood from your tools. You saw a look of disappointment in her eyes. 

“But,” you started, “there’s an old pharmacy a mile or two from here. I can go tomorrow. See what they have.” She nodded, a hopeful look in her eyes. “Come on, help me get him upstairs.”

The two of you took him to one of the guest bedrooms, laying him down on the bed. You slid his thick jacket back on, but left it unzipped so you could easily redress his wound. “I can show you to the other guest room. Mind, I don’t usually have visitors, so it’s-”

“No,” Ellie cut you off. She flushed. “Thanks, but I’m staying with him.” You nodded. She didn’t want him to wake up alone. 

“Alright, then. There are blankets in the closet over there,” you pointed. “My room is across the hall, at the end. If he wakes up or something is wrong, come get me. I’m leaving for the pharmacy at dawn, so help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You can shower if you want, too. If he wakes when I’m gone tomorrow, don’t leave. I’ll need to give him those antibiotics as soon as I get back.” She nodded. You began to walk out of the room, but she stopped you by calling your name. You turned.

“Earlier, you said that there was a time when you needed help, and nobody would give it to you…?”

You sighed. “A while back, about ten years ago, before I settled here, I was travelling with some people and my little brother. He ended up getting shot. His leg. I couldn’t stop the bleeding and…they just left us there. Left him there to die,” you swallowed, looking down at your feet. She looked at you, offering a sad smile. “Night, Ellie. Get some sleep.”

You returned around noon the next day with the antibiotics for Joel. Announcing yourself when you walked in, Ellie came stumbling down the stairs. You took in her wet hair and changed clothes. There was hope in her eyes, but also urgency. “He woke up! Just for a little while. He was pretty out of it, but he asked where we were,” she said.

“And what’d you tell him?” You said as you took your outerwear off and grabbed your bag with the antibiotics. 

“I told him we were safe. He wasn’t awake long enough to give him the full story, but now he’s all sweaty, and mumbling and shit and-”

“Shit,” you cursed, rushing up the stairs past the girl.

“Wait, what is it?” she called after you.

“Sounds like he’s got a fever. Could have delirium, too,” you said as you entered the room Joel was in. He was clammy, sweating, chest heaving, body radiating an ungodly heat, mumbling incoherencies. You moved his jacket to the side. “Looks like the infection is spreading,” you mumbled. Grabbing the syringe and bottle from your bag, you filled the syringe, sticking it into the pink flesh of Joel’s stomach. 

“He’ll need another dose in a few hours. It probably won’t kick in until the second or third dose,” you said, wiping the sweat from his head and neck with a rag. You turned to Ellie, who’s eyes were fixed on Joel, yet distant. “Hey, did you eat yet?” She shook her head. “Let’s get you something to eat, then,” you said as you led her to the kitchen.

Four days passed before Joel woke up. Four days spent mostly at his bedside, reading some book in between administering his doses. Making sure Ellie was fed. On the second day, Joel woke briefly again, panicking. However, Ellie was able to calm him down, reassuring him that they were safe. On the third day, you got through to Ellie a bit more.

“So, what brought you two this far out?” you asked innocently, closing your book and resting it on your lap. She seemed to freeze.

“We, uh…we were looking for Joel’s brother. We ended up near the university and got ambushed,” she said. She was lying. That was fine. You couldn’t really blame her. You hummed in response. 

It was silent for a few minutes before she spoke again, “He’s not my dad, you know.”

You offered her a soft smile. “Okay.” You went back to reading your book.

On the fourth day, when Joel woke up, you were in the kitchen doing the dishes left from your lunch with Ellie. A few hours ago you had re-dressed his wound and given him another round of antibiotics. The angry pink of his skin was subsiding and he was no longer feverish, resting peacefully on the bed. You hummed to yourself as you scrubbed the plates in the soapy water. 

Hearing two voices from upstairs, you dried your hands on a dish rag and made your way upstairs. The deep, gruff voice halted as your footsteps sounded out against the hallway floor.

“It’s safe, I promise. I trust her.” Ellie’s voice, pleading. A grunt.

You turned the corner with a polite smile, resting against the doorframe. You took the man in, greying hair dishevelled, sat up, staring daggers at you. 

“Good to see you awake,” you said, telling him your name. 

“How long was I out for?” he asked, his voice a gruff southern accent, but still laced with distrust. He was on edge.

“Five days.”

He looked at Ellie, who nodded. He groaned, eyes training back to you. “Where’s my stuff?” 

“Ellie has it all in the other room. Your horse is in my stable.”

“Then we’ll be on our way,” he said, attempting to get himself up, a groan of pain ripping through his chest as you walked forward, pushing him back down by the chest.

“Hold on, cowboy. You were stabbed. You have an infection. You’re in no shape to go back out there. Besides, there’s a storm rolling in soon.” You reached to the nightstand, grabbing the bottle of antibiotics and the syringe. 

He looked at Ellie. “She’s telling the truth. She found us when you fell off the horse. She brought us back here. Stitched you up and shit. She even went out to get you those antibiotics. She’s the reason the both of us aren’t dead. She’s been feeding me and everything,” Ellie said, then quieter, “I trust her.”

Joel looked you up and down. You held up the syringe, asking silent permission to give him another dose. “Fine,” he grunted.

It took a few weeks for Joel’s infection to heal and for the winter blizzard to pass. After about a week of bedrest, as prescribed by you, Joel was walking around with Ellie, going to the dining room for meals rather than you bringing them to the bed, and even helping you with small tasks. The truth is, Joel felt indebted to you for saving his life. For taking care of Ellie. For going so far out of your way to bring them safety. After a while, he was able to trust you. 

But there was more. As he helped you put away the dishes, your fingers would brush as he passed you a plate, the air between you two going still. You’d be silent for a few moments, continuing your task, before picking conversation back up as though nothing happened. You’d be out in the stable together, brushing the horses. One of them would whinny and you’d genty laugh. He found your laugh infectious, finding a smile spreading across his face and a chuckle falling from his lips. When you caught his eye, he’d flush, looking back at Shimmer. She’d nudge him with her muzzle, as if to prompt him to say something more to you. He never would. Or maybe it was the time you were eating dinner with him and Ellie, pouring yourself and Joel wine. You had reached over to give him his glass, knocking yours onto yourself in the process. You had cursed, lifting your shirt over your head, white undershirt untouched by the stain. You didn’t miss the way Joel looked away, warmth rising up his neck. Ellie didn’t miss it either, as she held in a laugh and nudged him suggestively, lifting her eyebrows. You didn’t say anything. 

Between the lingering touches, the fleeting glances, and the burning moments, you knew that there was something unspoken that hung thick in the air between you and Joel.

After three months, Joel was fully healed. The storm lasted about a month, the last winds finally subsiding. Ellie had slept in. It was just you and Joel having coffee. You leaned against the counter. He sat at the table, facing you. You were making light and easy conversation, as it usually was between you two.

He cleared his throat and looked into the liquid in his mug. “We’ll be outta your hair in about a week, if that’s okay. Don’t wanna overstay our welcome,” he said, avoiding eye contact. You began to protest, but he cut you off, “You’ve already done so much for us,” his voice was like honey, thick and smooth. There was some kind of resistance mixed in with it. “Don’t worry about us, darlin’.” The name rolled easily off his tongue. It was a recent development, always something endearing. You figured it was just his way of showing he trusted you.

You huffed. There was no arguing with him when his mind was set on something. “Alright, then. Take any supplies you need. We’ll load up your horse the night before you leave,” you said, pouring the rest of your coffee down the drain and leaving the kitchen. Joel caught the hint of…something, in your voice. Sadness? Anger? Loneliness? He recalled a conversation he heard you having with Ellie about two weeks back.

“Doesn’t it get lonely out here? All by yourself all the time?”

A brief silence. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

Joel thought he was doing what was best by ignoring the searing touches and stolen glances, ignoring the feelings in the pit of his stomach. He thought that growing attached to you would only hurt the both of you. He knew he was right, but he began to wonder if you might be worth the pain.

That night, after you had bid Joel goodnight and Ellie was already asleep, you sat on your bed, in your thoughts, when soft knocking came from your door. “Come in,” you called out. The door opened and you looked up to see Joel. There was something behind his eyes that wasn’t there before. Guilt?

He approached you slowly, “May I?” You nodded. He took a seat next to you at the edge of your bed. 

How was he supposed to start?

“I, uh,” he sighed. “I’m not very good at this. And I know we aren’t leavin’ just yet. But I wanted to, uh, thank you. For helpin’ me. Us. We’d both be dead if it weren’t for you. And for your hospitality.” He looked at his hands resting on his lap. “You’re a real good person for that.”

You just shrugged and offered him a tight-lipped smile. Silence hung thick in the air between you two.

He cleared his throat, getting up from the bed. “Well, I guess I’ll get-”

“Why won’t you stay?” Your eyes met his, brows furrowed, something anxious brewing behind them. 

“I’ve gotta get the girl to her people,” was the only thing he could offer. He felt at a loss. You just nodded, standing in front of him. 

“Am I ever gonna see you again?” It was more of a plea than a question. 

Joel swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Your gaze drifted down to the floor. “What happens if you get hurt again, and there’s nobody like me there to help you?”

In an unexpected move, both by you and him, he grabbed your face with his hands. “I’ll be just fine, darlin’.” Your hands slid atop his.

“You don’t know that.”

He began to lean in. “I don’t know,” he said, his breath warm across your lips. “All I know is that now I’ve got somethin’ to come back for, someone I-”

“Don’t tell me you want me,” you cut him off. “Don’t tell me you want me now, when you’re about to leave.” He closed his eyes. Your hands fell from his. You moved out of his hold. “I can’t do this.”

The loss of his hands on your skin felt sore, wrong, but you knew that if you let him touch you, he’d hook you in, and it would hurt all the more to say goodbye in one week’s time. 

“Please,” you whispered, eyes closed, a single tear streaming down your cheek. You could feel the warmth of his body leave, hear him close the door gently behind him.

You didn’t rest much that night. 

Every day for a week, you rose early, making breakfast for Ellie and settling back in your room to sit with yourself. Peering out of the window every day, you couldn’t help but stare out at the snowy planes of Colorado, taking in the austere, frozen environment you’d settled in. The desolate feel of the earth around you only made you realize how lonely you had been before Joel and Ellie had showed up, longing for something, anything, but always left unfulfilled. In Ellie’s bright smile and Joel’s unspoken touches, you thought that you might’ve landed a few companions who could keep your soul warm in the winter. It felt like you had lost something when you realized that wasn’t the case. 

When you ventured throughout the house to shower, cook, or do household work, you found yourself tiptoeing, almost like you didn’t want to get caught. You savoured your conversations with Ellie, but you kept your words to Joel down to necessity. Short responses to his questions, shorter replies to yours. Never touching, in fear that the friction, like electricity, would spark something that neither of you could stop. Holding your breath when he was close to you. Avoiding eye contact. Never giving more than you had to. You both thought it would be easier to part this way, the fire growing in your insides unsatiated. 

The night before he was set to leave, you found Joel in the kitchen, rough fingers silently brushing over a map laid out on the table. 

He jumped at the sound of your voice, “I’m gonna go get your horse set with the things you’ll need.” He turned to you.

“I’ll come give you a hand,” he said, downing the last of his coffee and grabbing his coat. 

The walk to the stable was thick with tension, the dense silence lingering between the two of you. The sun was out, casting the image of your shadows on the crunchy snow. When you reached the large door, you slid it open, letting him go first. You still couldn’t look at him. 

You trailed behind him as he moved towards Shimmer, grabbing her saddle and slinging it over her back, fastening it. You knew Joel carried all of his guns on his person, so you began filling the saddlebags with medical supplies, ammo, water, cord, tape, anything you had stockpiled that might help him and Ellie get to where they needed to. 

“All set,” you said, fingers running over Shimmer’s mane. 

“Thank you,” Joel breathed. He was looking at you, searching for your eyes. You could feel it.

You nodded. “Don’t worry about it.” A few moments of rigid silence. “Leaving at dawn?” The question fell past your lips before you could think about it.

You saw him nod out of your peripherals. “Yeah.”

You give a nod, lips pursed. Still looking at Shimmer. Still avoiding his gaze. 

“Will you look at me?” He said suddenly, voice demanding, but ultimately soft.

You didn’t obey, looking at your feet instead. “Why?”

“It’s been a week. I know you’re givin’ me the cold shoulder, but at least look at me. Don’t act like you hate me. You’re killin’ me, darlin’.”

You blew out a puff of warm air. “If I look at you…” you started, nearly losing your gall. “If I look at you, I’ll forget that I’m trying to let you go.”

The words were thick, heavy. They hung between you two as if they were forbidden.

“Then don’t let me go,” he said, taking a step towards you. 

You said his name in a warning, taking a few steps towards the door. 

“You don’t have to let me go. I know I’m never gonna stop thinkin’ ‘bout you, honey. And I can’t promise that you’ll see me again, but I’m damn well goin’ to try to make it back to you.” 

You sniffled, “You don’t mean that.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“I do. I mean it with all of myself,” he said, moving forward to press his forehead against yours. “Let me show you.”

Once again, you could feel his breath on your lips. His were just inches from yours, almost touching, but never quite close enough. You finally looked at him, tears brimming your eyes.

“I can’t give you much, but let me give you what I can,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his forehead into yours harder, more desperately.

At that, you broke. “Okay,” you breathed.

He took that as permission to lean himself into you, the skin of his lips grazing yours, breath mixing with his. When he finally connected his lips to yours, it was like he breathed a warmth into your body, lighting every nerve. Your hands tangled in his hair, his cupping your face. The kiss started chaste, but became breathy and passionate. It ended with your lips red and swollen, both of you needy and desperate for something more. Always more.

The rush through the snow, through the front door and up the stairs to your bedroom was needy, your hand in his, dragging you behind him, nearly sprinting with anticipation. 

As Joel was locking your bedroom door behind him, you were fisting the collar of his shirt and kissing him. Your mouth opened wider for his tongue to explore, whines muffled by his mouth. The kiss was all the things you couldn’t say, I want you, I love you, stay.

He walked you backwards into your bed, falling on top of you when your legs hit the edge. Your hands found solace in his hair, tugging just right, making him groan into your mouth. He parted from you to grab the hem of his shirt and tug it over his head. Now, your fingertips explored the expanse of his chest and soft stomach, soft pads tracing the scar that brought you to him. Kissing into your mouth, across your neck, sucking at your pulse point, his fingers grazed the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?” He asked between kisses to your collarbone. You nodded, lifting so he could pull it off.

“Take it off,” you said, left just in your bra. His fingers reached behind you to unclasp it, pulling it off and revealing your tits. He barely hesitated, taking one in his warm mouth and palming the other. Your hands fixed back in his hair, moaning. “Joel. Fuck, I need you. Please,” you whimpered. After weeks of building up the tension, of his fingers tracing your skin just for them to stop, staring at his lips and yearning, you needed him. More than anything.

Joel groaned. “Beggin’ so pretty already for me, honey,” he said as he moved down your body, undoing your belt, sliding it off with your pants and chucking them to the ground. His fingers smoothed over your panties, noticing the wet spot growing in the centre. He grinned, “Let’s see how wet you are, hmm?” Pushing the fabric to the side, he could almost moan at the sight of your drooling cunt. “Fuck,” he said, running his fingers through your slick folds, brushing your clit gently, sending a shiver shooting through your spine. “This wet already? All for me?” 

When you didn’t answer, he pinched the inside of your thigh gently, “Answer, honey.”

“All for you. Only for you, Joel.” You were breathless, nearly delirious. You’d give anything for him to touch you, to put you out of your misery. 

Joel eased one finger inside of you, then two, and began pumping them in and out of your slick folds. You moaned wantonly, all shame abandoned. “That’s it, pretty girl. Takin’ my fingers so well. Squeezin’ them so good. Can just imagine how you’re gonna feel wrapped ‘round my cock.”

You could feel the knot in your core get tighter and tighter every time his fingers hit that spot inside you, obscene noises coming from your cunt. He could feel you sucking his fingers in, growing tighter around him. He eased a third finger in and used his other hand, previously squeezing into your thigh, to rub circles on your clit. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you sputtered, getting closer and closer. 

“That’s it, honey. Cum on my fingers. There it is,” he said as you clenched around his digits, moaning his name like it was the only word you knew. He rubbed the flesh of your thighs as you came down, kissing the supple flesh of your thighs. When you caught your breath, you pulled him back up into you. 

You began to notice the firm tent pressing against you. Surely, he was begging for release, too. Who were you to deprive him of that? 

“Your turn,” you said.

Flipping him over, you began to undo his belt and slide his pants off, laying your head on his thigh, when he stopped you, resting a hand on your jaw.

“Honey, if you put me in your mouth, ‘m not gonna last,” he says, slightly flushed, chest heaving just as bad as yours. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked similarly to how he did when he was feverish. Delirious. “Just wanna be inside you. That okay?”

“Fuck, yes,” you breathed, crawling back onto him. This time, he flipped you over, caging you between his arms. He shuffled his boxers off, his hard length springing out and hitting his lower stomach, tip weeping precum. You couldn’t help but whimper. “Fuck, you’re big.” He chuckled, flushing a little. “How’re you gonna fit inside me?”

“Relax, honey. I worked you open. Shouldn’t be too much of a stretch,” he assured you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Need to feel you. For so long.”

He lined himself up with your entrance. You held your breath, letting it out in a moan as he sunk into your waiting cunt. He groaned when he was fully sheathed inside you, the sound coming deep from his chest.

He kissed you as you took him in, your body accommodating his length. “Move. Please,” you moaned into his mouth. He pulled out, sliding back in with the help from your slick. He set a slow but hard pace, clutching your body to his as he speared in and out of you. His lips barely left yours, sucking in each other’s moans and converting them to breath. 

“So tight, fuck,” he moaned. “Already clenching around me. Feels so good around me, pretty thing.”

You moaned his name, a needy, desperate call for him to go faster. He picked up his pace, breath becoming erratic, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out across his skin.

“Not gonna last long, honey,” he groaned. 

“Neither am I. Cum inside of me, please. I want all of you,” you begged, too out of it to think of the consequences. He let out an obscene moan at the request.

“Want me to fill you up, yeah?” He said as he roughly fucked into you. “Fill you up so good that it’ll still be leakin’ outta ya tomorrow?” He was delirious, almost pussy drunk. You were both chasing your release, clinging to each other like there was no tomorrow. Because there wasn’t. Not for the two of you.

“Joel, I’m…oh, fuck!” you moaned as your orgasm hit you, knocking you into hysteria. 

“Right behind you, pretty girl,” he said, grunting. “You’re squeezin’ me so good,” he moaned, finally spilling into your cunt. He pulled you back into him as you both finished, moans muffled by each other’s tongues, sucking, biting, licking, kissing.

When the ecstasy ended and he could feel you squirming underneath him, he pulled out gently, taking care not to brush your clit too roughly. He watched as his cum leaked from your puffy hole, taking two fingers and shoving it back in. You whimpered a little at the contact. “I know, honey. Just makin’ sure I’m gonna stay inside of you.”

He finally laid down next to you, bringing you into his chest. You shoved your head in the crook of his neck, taking all of him in. 

You didn’t have to talk about tomorrow, or think about it. You just needed to be here, in this moment with him, face nuzzled into his neck, his seed still leaking out of you.

Tomorrow could wait.

You woke like you normally do, to the rays of splendid sunlight shining in through your thin curtains. Stretching, you remembered last night. Your hand reached for the spot you left him in, finding the bed cold. The cold of the sheet travelled through your fingertips, up your arm, through your shoulder, into your chest, and hit your heart. You scrambled out of bed, throwing on whatever you could find, and scrambled downstairs. 

There was no evidence that he had ever been there, except for the two pieces of paper that sat on the kitchen table. 

Your breath hitched as you picked the first one up, tears threatening to spill. It was a drawing done in simple graphite. A drawing of you sitting next to Joel, who was laying in bed. She had done it when he was still feverish. In the bottom right corner, she signed:

“Thank you for everything. I know it will work out. -Ellie”

You clutched it to your heart as you picked up the second one. A letter. It read:

My girl,

I hope you can forgive me for leaving you no room for a goodbye. Part of me thought it would be easier this way, not having to think about what you were going to say, or what you should have said. The other part of me wanted to stay in that bed with you, cozied up in your arms, until the two of us were too old to get up. I want you forever. 

But I made Ellie a promise a long time ago. She’s got nobody left. She’s just a girl, and I can’t leave her on her own. The guilt would eat me alive a lot quicker than any infection could. I have to get her to her people. When I’m done, I promise you that I’ll come back. I’ve marked your little farm on my map, there’s no chance of me missing it. Before you, I would’ve laughed at the idea of forever. Forever seemed like too long living in this world. Now, all I want is forever if I can spend it with you in my arms.

Thank you. For more than you know. I’ll see you soon.

Until we meet again.

Yours truly and forever, 

Joel Miller

part 2

permanent taglist:

@idkwhattonamethisblogs​

@winters-fairy​​

​

[spellboundtales]

Fic rec

here are some MASTERPIECES

🩰hurt/comfort

🧸Fluff

🦋Angst

🌺Smut

Spencer Reid

🩰 🧸what he knows by @luveline || reader is insecure and Spencer comforts her!

🧸 Love Sick by @criminalmindzjunkie || Spencer is jealous that reader has a date! Now he has to find a way to sabotage it

🌺the more loving one by @criminalmindzjunkie || Professor!Spencer catches himself falling for one of his students. i'm so down bad for Professor!Spencer

🧸Holy Ground by @writer-in-theory || Spencer is your neighbor! Reader and him start a conversation with…steaky notes!

🩰🧸You’re my future, past and present by @mismatched-sockss || exes to… what will happen when reader and Spencer will see each other again after years?

🩰🌺🦋A marriage story by @bunnylovesani || PostPrison!Spencer and reader have to deal with the aftermath, trying to save their marriage

🧸this request by @ddejavvu || sunshine!reader purposely telling wrong facts when Spencer is around

🧸i can see you by @januaryembrs || the desk jokey from the floor below has caught spencer's eye...maybe he caught her eyes too

🧸you're too sweet for me (you were like an angel to me and when you know, you know) by @januaryembrs || sunshineRookie!reader and PostPrison!Spencer in kinda 3 parts (literally the holy trinity)...you should def check all her works because this is g o l d

🩰🧸this request by @nereidprinc3ss || reader and spencer are friends and he comfrots her after a bad date with a real jerk... when i tell you that this one is one of my favorite...felt that

🧸this request by @nereidprinc3ss || Spencer helps reader to change her bandages...and things get...funny...

🦋🧸lovely to sit between comfort and chaos (pt2) by @cerisereids || reader meets Spencer when he's on a case in her hometown

🧸the Love Hypotesis (series) by @goldentournesol || reader kisses the first man she sees all because of a lie...turns out that man is also her professor

🧸this request by @reiderwriter || Spencer babying an obvlious reader... the team has enough.

🧸isn't she pretty, dad? by @reiderwriter || dad!Spencer and his son playing matchmaker with his teacher

🌺🩰following rules (+ we can't be friends) by @little-diable || reader is JJ's daughter...what could ever happen between her and Spencer? (spoiler: a lot)

🧸carriage six (+pt2 platform ten) by @avis-writeshq || Spencer can't help but notice the same pretty girl on his train ride to work...what happens when she catches him ogling her?

🧸🌺🩰Emergency room by @violetrainbow412-blog || in the middle of the night reader receives a call from the hospital...turns out reader is spencer's emergency contact...but they broke up over a year ago

Aaron Hotchner

🦋fix it and 🩰fix it together by @miley1442111 || this 2 part fic, in which Aaron and wife!reader fight, because he compares reader to Haley..can they fix their marriage? this is soul shattering guys... (check all her works because when i tell you her writing style is amazing...)

🩰not so subtle by @ssahotchnerr || (not so) secret relationship with Aaron, who desperatly wants to comfort reader after a though case...

🌺how did she? by @little-diable || Hotch and reader meet at a cafe...he looks familiar... (dad'sFriend!Hotch)

Remus Lupin

🧸“I am not very good at flirting, am I?” by @hello-everyfandom || a study date with remus..wait...is it even a date?

Anthony Bridgerton

🧸🌺🦋Take my hand by @rubysunnday || Anthony tries his best as a matchmaker for reader…truth is reader wants only Anthony…

Joel Miller

🧸weakness by @joelsgreys || a lovely afternoon at Bill and Frank's…what could go wrong?? maybe it's time that some feelings come out of the surface...

Din Djarin

🦋🧸touching din by @archieimagines || three times Din shows you that he cares...even bendin his rules a bit to do so

🧸 significant by @softlyspector || Din has called reader Riduur for months…but what does it mean?

[formulawolff]

xv. everlong - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 3.0k

warnings: age gap relationship, team principal x driver relationship, cursing, marijuana use, alcohol use, toto being down bad per usual, light angst, toto is not the best person for a minute, mentions of divorce/separation, some lighttttt smut (the heavy smut will be included in the next chapter! promise!) oral (f! receiving), some realllll sweet n tender shit, yadayadayada

a/n: this chapter is probably one of my top five favorites, if not favorite chapter of this series. although it would be pretty hard to top chapter xii., i really enjoyed writing this one! to set the mood for the chapter, i have a few song recs to listen to as you read! please try to listen to them in order, as they really set the tone/vibe of golden girl x toto! <3 also, a huge shoutout to the anon who inspired me to write about gg x toto smoking together!! :)

little hell - city and colour

alkaline - sleep token

one way (feat. t-pain) - 6lack, t-pain

everlong - foo fighters

skin - mac miller

prev. | next.

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“toto, tell me. are you in love with her?” 

yes, susie. i am. 

she is a divine being, bringing me to my knees at the sight of her. she is the sun, a bright, radiant beacon of light and warmth. her touch alone makes me weak. my mind is consumed with thoughts of her every waking second. i’ve been apart from her for so long, i can barely hold it together right now. 

the team principal inhales sharply, letting out a shaky breath, “i – i can’t answer that.”

“you are, aren’t you?” susie’s expression is unreadable, “you’re in love with her. if this was just some fuck you wouldn’t be acting this way.”

there it was again.

that pang of jealousy deeply interwoven in her fiery retort. 

“susie,” toto begins, scrambling for formulate some sort of coherent response, “i don’t know what to say or how to respond in a manner that will make this any more–”

“no,” she holds up a hand, “you do not have to explain yourself to me any further. i know you love that girl. you wouldn’t have let her pull that little stunt if you didn’t.”

“it wasn’t just some little stunt–”

“exactly,” susie shakes her head, tears glistening in the light, “it wasn’t just some publicity stunt to you. i could tell that you enjoyed that kiss, toto. you were practically making out with her for fuck’s sake.”

“susie,” toto rises to his feet, “we made an agreement, remember? we wanted this. both of us.”

“but that doesn’t mean i have to act like it doesn’t tear me apart seeing you with someone new. someone younger than me. someone who is far more beautiful than i ever will be. someone who can bear more children for you. someone who will–”

“susie, stop. cut that shit out right now.” 

“why?” she demands, whipping her head towards the team principal, “why are you so stone cold as i’m falling apart in front of you? why does this not bother you?”

“because,” toto coughs, clearing his throat, “i don’t love you anymore. that’s why. all of those feelings, they’re long gone. when i look at you, i don’t feel love. you’re one of my good friends, one of my business partners, and the mother of my children. i feel respect, and a deeply rooted companionship. but i just don’t feel love. not even an inkling.”

her eyes narrow, “oh, so i was wrong. you’re not just in love. you’re in deep.”

“and i’m not going to stand here and play childish little games,” the team principal scoffs, “you’ve never acted this way before, and i am not sure why this girl is bothering you so badly when i’ve mentioned other women in the past.”

susie’s lower lip curls into a sneer, “did it ever occur to you that this bothers me so much because i know her? because we were friends at one point? she has a relationship with the academy, toto. i’ve met with her several times. we’ve spoken on a regular basis at one point. it just feels wrong.”

“well,” toto shrugs, “she’s going to be around for a while, susie. you may want to get used to seeing her face around here.”

“you’re fucking ridiculous,” susie snarls, raising a pointed finger at the team principal, “you’ve been a terrible father lately. you’ve been a horrid team principal. and the worst part, you’ve completely lost it. ten years ago, you would have never put your reputation on the line like this.” 

the team principal remained silent as his former wife gathered her composure, cursing under her breath as she slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder, nearly stomping out of the office. the department surrounding his space probably eavesdropped on the entire heated exchange, but he didn’t care. 

after monaco, it seemed like he had less and less fucks to give these days. 

licking his lower lip, toto almost crashes down into his chair, collapsing as a groan rumbles in his chest.

so much for her taking that news well. 

and if he happened to marry this girl?

oh god. 

susie would probably have a conniption. fuck, she would probably ransack his entire office, defacing each and every one of his items. shit, she would even probably try to find a way to get him fired somehow. 

well, he didn’t entirely blame her. it wasn’t like he kept her in the loop about his personal life or romantic relationships. although they had a pretty amicable relationship after their separation, the subject of new love was always like rubbing salt in a wound.

a wound that toto thought had healed. but apparently not. her explosive outburst in the office reaffirmed that. 

there was a pang in his chest, squeezing in his heart as he hunched over the desk, burying his head in his arms. 

oh, how he missed his golden girl.

god, wasn’t that fucked up. 

his ex-wife of nearly a decade just basically professed she still harbored romantic feelings for him, and here he was, fretting as he yearned over his new love. 

he needed to see her, oh so badly. 

but how? although they were only approximately forty miles apart, it felt as if there were thousands upon thousands of miles between them. it was more than likely due to the nature of their current situation, but it left him aching for one singular thing. 

her touch. 

fuck, he craved her touch. the light drag of her nails against his skin as her fingertips traced along his toned back and shoulder blades. the wisp of her hair as she buried her head into his chest. the ghost of her mouth of his as their bodies intertwined together. 

her presence alone was enough to send him spiraling. 

it wasn’t like they were forced to go their separate ways between monaco and montreal. it was just suggested heavily by their pr teams that they do so, just so that williams and mercedes could launch their own personal investigations in regards to their relationship. 

and for the time being, it appeared that things were all cleared. they had broken no rules. they didn’t breach any contracts. well, not entirely. mercedes, williams, and the fia did not need to know about the hours the two of you spent discussing your decision to join toto at mercedes. 

besides, they did not need to know that you were naked, basking in the warmth of him, body tangled with his when you made that decision. 

the official contract talks would have to be scheduled here soon. 

after all, toto was running out of time. 

he needed that second driver. 

and he had you. it wasn’t entirely official quite yet, but he knew he had you. 

time to start making things official then, huh? 

not like he had to really, you already did that for him in monaco.

plucking his phone off his desk, the team principal starts to type out a lengthy text message, swallowing the lump in his throat as his thumb hovers over the send icon. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“what are you feeling for dinner over there, eeyore?”

alex’s voice snaps you out of your zombie-esque trance, your head swiveling as you glance over your shoulder, “i’ll just eat a little bit from whatever you make. i’m not really hungry.”

“oh come on,” alex rolls his eyes, yelling from across the kitchen, “you have to eat something! fuck our diets right now. what do you want? i’ll literally make anything for you. i am begging you to eat something.”

“it’s rare for alex to beg,” a giggle sounds from your right, light and airy, “it wouldn’t be a bad idea though, to eat a little something.”

exhaling, your gaze falls on lily as she sits beside you, perched in the plush chair, “i’m just not that hungry.”

“is it because of everything going on?” lily cocks her head, reaching for her wine glass, “i mean, i can’t imagine what it must be like to be you right now. you have to focus on your racing, your diet, keeping up on social media. yet, you also have to factor in your parents, your briefings, and your personal life. it must be a lot, considering what happened in monaco. by the way, what did your parents think? were they shocked? happy for you?”

“well,” your eyes drift over to the ledge of the balcony, taking in the way the sun was beginning its descent over the horizon, “they weren’t necessarily jumping for joy that i happened to fall for a fifty-two year old man. i think they’ll feel a lot better once they meet him. toto has this charm that has draws you in. i’m sure he would win them over in a heartbeat.”

“just like he did with you?” lily teases, leaning over to prod you playfully, “you know, you could have just told me and alex about him. we would’ve kept things private for you!”

“i know,” you bite the inside of your cheek, “but there was just so much risk involved with telling people about it. and i was scared of how you guys would have reacted, what you would have said, or if you would have told james or the fia or–”

“hey,” lily places a tender hand on your shoulder, “we don’t always choose who we fall in love with. we can choose how we act on those feelings, but that is just ultimately something for the universe to decide. you just happened to fall for a devastatingly handsome, recently divorced team principal.”

“i heard that!” alex calls, earning an eye roll from lily.

“i’m just trying to help her feel better! we both know that man is gorgeous!” 

“i miss that gorgeous man,” you bring your knees to your chest, resting your chin between them, “i know we didn’t have to spend the brief break apart, but our media teams advised us to. you have no idea how badly i’m fighting the urge to just tell him to take the next flight to–”

yet, before you can finish your sentence, your phone vibrates on the table, notifying you that you had a new text message.

eagerly, you snatch it up, eyes scanning over the screen. 

i miss you, beautiful girl. i’m not sure where you are, but i am taking the next flight to monaco as soon as i possibly can. i should be there by tonight. could we rendezvous at my place? if you need me to pay for your own ticket, i will. just let me know.

“what did he say?” lily peers over your shoulder. 

“he’s coming to monaco,” your heart skips a beat as the realization washes over you, “wait, i’m already here! he’ll be here tonight! he wants me to meet him at his place.”

“well,” lily’s eyes glimmer, a bright smile enveloping her features, “looks like you need to eat, take a shower, and get ready missy! alex, will you start your shower for me?”

“i already heard the entire thing,” the driver tuts as he strolls onto the balcony, two plates in hand, “eat first, and then i’ll start a shower for you. from the sound of it, it seems like you’ll have a long night ahead, so you need to eat up before you get your guts rearranged.”

heat flourishes into your cheeks at his comment, “i – oh my god. you don’t know that for sure.”

“i think i do,” a smug paints his lips as he sets the plate down beside you, “there’s a reason why you’ve been so glowy and bubbly these last few weeks. i know you’re not smoking or doing any drugs, so there’s only one other thing i can think of.”

“i cannot stand you,” you mumble, sheer embarrassment taking hold. 

“and that’s why you’re sitting down,” alex lets out a chuckle, “don’t worry buttercup, the teasing is only going to get worse from here on out.”

although you were more than grateful for alex allowing you to stay with him in monaco between the two races, it did have it pitfalls. and that was one of them. ever since you told him about toto, the teasing was relentless. it was never malicious, always lighthearted. how an older brother would pester his younger sister. which, you didn’t mind. 

ever since the meeting with williams, your emotions had been nothing but a tumultuous torrent of anxiety, regret, and well, terror. 

you were terrified that toto was going to choose preserving his career over your relationship. after all, you couldn’t blame him. he was one of mercedes’ spearheads, one of the most respected and dominant forces among the paddocks in his role as ceo and team principal. 

he was a father as well, with three children whom he loved dearly. he was perceived as a family man, who often toted jack on his shoulders or brought him along with to races. additionally, you couldn’t shake the one thing that had been gnawing away at you, completely tearing you apart. 

what did susie think of you? what did she think of your relationship? was she going to try and win toto back? did she still have feelings for him? 

if they happened to meet in the time you were apart, what did she say? how did he respond? was he guilty somehow? was he going to admit to you that after seeing her, some emotions resurfaced?

god, your head was your own personal little hell. 

and who knew if you were ever going to crawl out.

however, deep in your heart, you knew that you needed to see him. you needed to tell him the very thing that had been clawing at the depths of your very conscience. 

you loved him. 

and he needed to know. 

and by god, you were determined to tell him.

well, it looked like tonight would be your perfect opportunity. 

time to prepare for the worst.

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“go on, take another hit.”

your fingers pinch the rolled paper, bringing it to your mouth. lashes fluttering, you inhale, the harshness of the contents flooding your lungs, burning your throat. once you were satisfied with  the intake, you purse your lips, smoke billowing out. 

“good girl,” he hums, fingers squeezing your thigh, “i missed you, you know that?”

the corners of your lips curl into a blissful grin, “and i missed you. so much. more than you’ll ever know.”

the lights of monaco glitter in the distance, casting a soft glow over the ocean as the waves lap the shore, foam encasing the gritty shore. hints of tangerine poke out from above the horizon, promising of the sun’s arrival. the scent of marijuana lingers in the air as toto taps the joint against the tray, his brows knit together with concentration. 

above you, stars gleam, dotting the indigo hue that swathed the sky. all around, the mediterranean sea stretched for miles, the lights from various boats and yachts blinking, a gentle reminder that you were not alone.

although, you were in your own little world, utterly enamored and allured by the man beside you. 

toto arrived to monaco around eleven-thirty p.m., not arriving to his luxurious property until about midnight. although it was well later than you expected, you were bright-eyed and bushy tailed, oh so ready to reunite with the team principal. 

even though it was well past the hours he was normally up and about, he offered to take you on his yacht, where the two of you could just spend some time alone together. 

of course, it was an offer you couldn’t refuse.

especially when he mentioned that he had picked up a “special treat for his special girl.”

that treat was a tin of five pre-rolled joints, neatly packed together. the papers encasing them were oh so cute, a light blue with little fluffy, white clouds. the tin itself was to die for, with snoopy as the red baron, a cartoon bubble to his right stating, “up, up, and away!” 

his plug was definitely a woman, but you didn’t mind one bit. after all, with packaging that cute? how could you be upset? toto informed you that the tin was yours to keep, and he was more than happy to keep it filled for you. you just had to say the word, and he would contact his connection. 

smoking was probably the last thing you should be doing between races, but it wasn’t like the fia was testing the drivers regularly. even though the testing was random, toto informed you that once he got the word of any potential tests, he would find a way to let you know. 

you guys had already bent the rules enough, so why not bend them a little bit more?

“hey,” his is low, so gentle it was barely audible, “can i tell you something?”

he’s situated between your legs, spreading your thighs apart as you sit on the sundeck, the cool surface sending a shiver down your spine as it meets with heated skin. 

“of course,” you murmur, a hand connecting with his cheek, “what is it?”

“well for one, i want to fuck the shit out of you right now,” his eyes are glossy, pupils dilated as they hone in on you, “but i need to tell you something first.”

there’s a slight stubble as it grazes the pad of your thumb, his plush lips parting ever so slightly, “what is it, toto?”

he’s lowered now, his mouth hovering above your pussy, the thin fabric of your shorts the only barrier between his lips and sweet, sweet, relief. the relief he had been desperate for these last few days, pacing back and forth in his office as he attempted to maintain his composure. to keep it together. 

but here you were now, looking oh so breathtaking as the moonlight cascaded down, illuminating your skin with a beautiful silvery hue. 

you were a goddess.

 a truly divine being. the one he wanted to worship every single second, every single day for the rest of his life. the one who brought him to knees. the one who made him so utterly weak. 

he was in far too deep now, deeply lost and consumed by you. 

and god, he never wanted to go back.

even if he wanted tried, he knew he couldn’t.

and now, there was only you in this moment. 

drawing him in, coaxing him to fall even deeper. 

“i love you.” 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

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[netherfeildren]

Pink : Part III : Two

Series Masterlist : Part I : Part II

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Content Warnings: Heavy angst; DD/lg dynamics; Dom/sub undertones; Daddy Kink; Jealousy; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Inappropriate shaving; Squirting; Belly bulge; Dirty talk; Orgasm delay/denial; Overstimulation; Face slapping; Spanking; Light degradation; Rough sex; Breeding kink; Divorce; Not safe to read if triggered by pregnancy; Use of misogynistic language; Discussions of mental and emotional abuse; Cliffhanger

A/N: All tags have been updated.

Word Count: 12.7K

Rating: Explicit 18+

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

3. Two

“You know that feeling of… of realizing you’re a good person? It’s like– yes, I know objectively that I probably am. That I try to be kind, I try to do things that are good and right, but you know those strangely self perceptive moments where another person makes you – forces you – to realize you’re good? And it brings your whole life, your whole self into clarity, and it’s like – I am good, and I deserve good things. I am good.

But he treated me so badly, for so long. He took away pieces of me, he took away that awareness of goodness. And how could I not believe him, when he constantly told me and showed me that I deserved so little, when it was what I accepted for myself? Constantly waiting for him to turn into a man he never was, never had been and never would be. I accepted those things for myself, I let them happen. Maybe I was weak or stupid or naive or all of them combined. Maybe I was just a girl. But I thought it was hope at the time. I thought I was being hopeful and good, and now I realize that was no true form of goodness. It was only the version of good he needed me to be, a subservient and silent type of goodness.”

“And you know, I had a neighbor who– her husband died last year at Christmas, and it was so sad. They were older, always together, it was… it has nothing to do with this, but I don’t know. It was like when a tragedy is soft and quiet, and it just folds into the rest of life unheeded. Such a strange thing for someone on the outside looking in. I lived next door to them, and I’d see them all the time living their lives together, and I barely knew them, but suddenly he was gone, and I was conscious of the fact that she was over there alone all the time now. Without him. When before he’d always been there. I don’t know what I'm trying to say. It’s just that it didn't happen to me, it affected me in no way, and yet, I felt her loss keenly. Afterwards, I helped her with her cat, an old skinny thing, Jazz. She started going out of town a lot after her husband died, getting out and away, you know, that sort of thing. And I’d cat sit for her, and he was so sweet. But he was old too, and a few months later, he died also. And I remember the week he was going to pass she’d texted me and said he’d go soon, and I told her I was praying for him, thinking of the both of them. I don’t even pray, but I needed to tell her I was with her in some way. And it was nothing, a few nights going over there to feed the old boy, a few text messages. It was the absolute bare minimum I could do, but a few weeks after the cat died, she wrote me the loveliest note. She told me that she appreciated me, that she thought of how kind I’d been during those days, when I’d told her I was thinking of them. She told me that I was a good person, and that she hoped my kindness was returned to me many times over. 

And I’d forgotten, you see, I'd forgotten that I was good. That I had a capacity for goodness within me, and that I deserved to be reminded of it, like all soft creatures are. We all need reassurance and a kind word sometimes, and I’d forgotten that about myself.” You glance up at his eyes, the most tender look held in them. “Do you know what I mean, Joel?” You ask, voice very small, shy and afraid, for one moment, that he won’t understand you. 

But he pets your hair, cradles your cheek, “Yeah, honey. I think I do know.”

It’s a terrifying ordeal, the way the two of you fold into each other in the weeks after that first night. And yet, unstoppable. You do try, and you’re sure he does, as well. The first few days, trying to stay away, not answering his calls, no texts because he says his fingers are too big, and he can’t work those tiny fuckin’ buttons, forcing yourself not to run back over there into his arms and his bed. But then he’s calling and calling and calling, begging, making it his turn to show up at your doorstep in the middle of the night, saying all the right things like, I haven’t been sleeping, and I need to see you, and I’m suffering, I’m suffering without you, touching you in all the right ways that should be wrong but aren’t. All baby, I hurt when I’m not inside this sweet pussy. He says you make him weak, and you tell him that the only weak thing here is you, and you don’t make it much of a struggle for him when you let him in your home, in your cunt, when all you can say is I miss you, I miss you, your cock, your hands, I can’t stop thinking about you. The two of you are one and the same in all the ways it counts. And he’s not your father-in-law anymore, a chameleon now in the form of the only man who’s ever understood you, wanted you, seen you as more, as a complexity. 

He makes you wonder how you could have ever thought of yourself as anything like sexless when all he makes you is hungry and desperate and wet. Fucking everywhere you can, as often as you can, never being very careful, pulling out and counting your cycle and starting out with a condom but ripping it off halfway through because I just have to feel you – irresponsible bullshit. Not having your head screwed on tightly enough to even really care. He has you on his living room floor one afternoon, whole day gone away on his cock, and the two of you lay there for hours afterwards, bare limbs wrapped around each other, soft, wet cock tucked safely inside of you where he says it belongs. “How could you have not been angry?” You ask him because you can’t help yourself. Because you want him to teach you to be wise now that he’s shown you how to be good. “That he was kept from you? That you missed an entire lifetime of being a father? I never once saw you furious or resentful. How did you do it?”

“Don’t know,” he sighs. “Dunno… I– It was, kind of, the worst thing anyone’s ever done to me, truth be told, but I didn’t have a chance to compute, to sit in any sort of anger. He was right there all of a sudden, too full of anger to leave any left over for me, and he needed me so much. He needs me so much.” And you know he’s right, and there should be guilt now, gnawing at you, but there is really only jealousy. “And he– he…” A swallow, like you can read his mind, you know what he’ll say, already nodding. “And he hates me,” he whispers into the quiet of this lovely home he’s made for himself, his words mixing with the butter yellow ray of sunshine the two of you are lying in, slanting in through the big bay window. “He hates me, hates who I am. That it’s me he found when he came lookin’.” You have to cry for him then, maybe even for the both of them, maybe even for all three of you. 

“Yes,” you choke, so full of sadness for the tragedy of it all. You can’t comfort him with a denial for you’re not a liar here with him. Protection like that isn’t necessary. 

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” He hugs you so tightly, “There’s no reason to cry.”

“I can’t help it,” And return the words he’d given you once when you’d so badly needed a kindness, “You deserve more.”

He’s quiet for a long time after that, and you know him well enough now that you can hear the gears of his mind working and turning, and that makes you even sadder, perhaps, the greatest tragedy of all, this knowing, and eventually he says: “And yet, he is the son I have.” And at the end of it all, you think you are all only yourselves, and nothing can really be done about that. 

And you say you want to be wise like him, that it’s your next lesson, so perhaps you should hold your tongue instead of saying: “He only just got you back, and I’m taking you away from him again. Because that’s what I want – I want to take you away and keep you only for myself. I want you to be only mine and that makes me bad. I’m bad.” Your first lesson quashed beneath the fist of your greed for a man who isn’t for you, and who you shouldn’t want, and it’s wrong and maybe even sinful or disgusting or any and all the things that are always bad. None of that matters. He’s turned you into a real person now, none of the rest of it matters. 

But he understands, because of course he does, because he always has. He grips your jaw in his hands, large, strong hands, hands made for taking care of things, and tells you, not so wise seeming anymore: “Sometimes I look at myself, and it’s like I'm two feet tall. Why didn’t I meet you sooner? First? How could I have been such a coward to not go out there and search for you? I should have known you were out there, I should have sensed it. How can a man be jealous of his own son?” He turns you over then, cock hard and thrusting again, kisses you full on the mouth, and it tastes like ownership, and says, “You could never be bad. No matter what you did. You’re only ever good. Haven’t I taught you that?” 

-

“Joel, there’s someone at the door,” peeking into the restroom where he’s just stepped out of the shower, wet and steaming, shaking his head out like a dog, towel covering all the fun bits. He’d just had you too many times already, and still, you want more. You’re made of nothing but greed now; he’s taught you how to be good, but he’s also taught you how to be greedy. You’d been strewn across his couch, eating chips and wearing his clothes and leaking his come and waiting for him to finish in the shower and come out to make dinner. He was doing steaks on the grill and baked potatoes with all the fixings and roasted vegetables, and he’d even gotten a pie and ice cream, but he said he wasn’t telling you what the flavor was, only that it was your favorite, and you can’t think how he’d know you love rhubarb, but if that’s what he’s gotten, you were going to let him do anything to you. Literally anything he wanted. Not that you didn’t already… but still, it’s the sentiment that counts, you think. He’d also said you weren’t allowed to shower, that the rule tonight was that you weren’t allowed to wash him off, and you really didn’t mind that so much. So there you were, after he’d put on Stepmom for you, and you were just thinking that Julia Roberts was surely the most beautiful woman who’d ever been born, when someone had knocked on the door, a rhythmic, friendly: tap, tap, tap, that had your heart dropping down into your stomach, and you scurrying into the master bath to frantically tell him that someone is here while you’re here wearing him all over and inside of you and what are you going to do now? He gives you a calm smile, running the towel over his wet head, giving you an eyeful of the fun bits now, and you try and not peek, you really do, but it’s really just the most exciting part on him, you can’t help yourself. His smile turns knowing, that look in his eye, “S’alright, sweetheart. Don’t fret, I’ll get it.”

“But–” you try and protest, maybe he should just pretend not to be home. What if it’s– you can’t even think of it. But then no, he’d not come here. He hates coming to this house, the proof of everything he wasn’t all in his face like this was humiliating for your ex-husband. 

His smile remains, but his eyes go a little stern, “No worryin’, I’ll take care of it.” He tugs on his jeans, the man literally never wears underwear, slut, and tugs on a shirt, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he passes you, hand dragging over your belly, smelling of soap and Joel and want, want, want. You follow him on tip toes down the hall, pausing at the mouth of the living room, chewing on your lip and your fingers, about to spit your heart out with nerves as he pulls the door open. 

“Hi, Joel, honey. How’s it goin’?” Pretty, bubbly, overly friendly voice you were definitely not expecting. You take a small step forward, the mouth of the hall slightly to the left of the front door so that you can see her without her seeing you, watch his profile as he talks to her. Edie, he says, and that dishwasher givin’ you trouble again, and laughs at her reply, the sound of their conversation going out of your ears as you watch him, head falling sideways on your neck a little bit, the way he laughs at whatever the woman that’s come knocking on the door of his home all friendly and comfortable to interrupt his time with you is saying, loud, bellyfull, one arm braced against the doorframe so that you can see her eyes flit every few seconds to the thick bulge of muscle there. Your face goes hot, your insides green and bitter, but he’s laughing just handsomely enough that you know it’s not real. You know his real laugh, and it isn’t this one. The woman leans forward, blonde hair and big boobs and batting lashes, but Joel shifts backwards subtly, keeping a respectful distance, and your pulse throbs at the backs of your knees and the pit of your stomach. She likes him, she’s here because she likes him, asking him to look at her dishwasher or something, yeah, sure, sure that’s the only thing she wants looked at. 

“I’ll come take a look at it tomorrow. How ‘bout that? I’m sure it’ll be another quick fix like last time, but you should probably think about just replacin’ the thing at this point,'' he tells her. 

“Oh, can’t you now, Joel?” She pouts, “It’s just that–”

“I’m tied up tonight, Edie,” he cuts her off, an indulgent, too charming smile on his face, and oh, it pisses you off, that smile. You turn on your heel, stomping down the hall back to his bedroom. Huffing, gnashing your teeth. The sight of him with another woman, a more appropriate woman because of course she is, it makes you sick, angry, something terrible, so, so jealous your bones itch beneath the surface of your skin. It makes you small and slanted again, wrong place, wrong time, wrong girl. Not for him, never for him, and it’s so unfair, and he is so– so… Smiling at her like that, using that tone of voice, propping up his stupid huge arm like that so that his muscle’s all defined and put on display, and you hate him and the way he makes you feel and how much you want and need him. On the verge of tears or screaming or vomiting you scramble around his room, trying to collect your clothes and your strewn panties and where the fuck is your bra and your other shoe? 

“What’re you doin’?” Comes his soft, steady voice a moment later. Entirely too even for the way you feel right now. You want to hiss at him or bite him or do something entirely uncivilized. 

“I have to go home.”

“Why?”

“I have something to do. I forgot.”

“Something, what? What do you have to do?” But you ignore him, rifling through the strewn clothes on the armchair in the corner – where the hell is your goddamn bra? “Look at me–” he barks, now having stepped further into the bedroom. 

“Oh, fuck off,” and there’s a part of you that knows that you’re being irrational, that he’s done nothing wrong, but you feel so provoked suddenly. In need of a fight or a thrashing or something, something to make this terrible feeling poisoning you on the inside go away. 

“Watch your mouth, little girl,” and his voice is so calm and so quiet and so scary. It makes you lock up one second, spin around the next to spit and hiss at him like an angry cat. You will not watch your mouth. “She wants you.” You almost stomp your foot like a child throwing a fit, but he’s entirely still and silent, taking you in with the most unfathomable of looks. “Do you know that?” And this time you do stomp your foot. “Do you want her back?”

He blinks once, and then like a lightbulb turning on, even though you’re obvious as daylight, “You’re jealous.”

“Do you want her back?” You ask again, real tears in your voice this time. 

And his gaze goes soft and tender and entirely understanding, “Never.” He shakes his head. 

“She looked like a fucking idiot.” You pout, childish – how will he ever want you when you act like this?

“I only want you.” But you don’t believe him. How could you? When there’s nowhere for this to go. When he deserves so much more than the options afforded to him here between the two of you. And you want to fight with him because there’s nothing to be done, no choices, no other recourse, and it’s not his fault and there’s no one to blame and no outlet for this terrible anger inside of you. You feel like you’re choking on it, being swallowed whole, that head breaking water feeling reversed so that now you’re deep at the bottom of the well of your own wanting. You turn back to the fruitless search for your bra. He’s hidden it from you, you’re sure, some evil old man ploy to keep you here trapped and braless with him. “Did you hear me? I only want you,” he says again, voice closer now.

And you think you’re mumbling or crying, something hysterical bubbling up inside of you, I have to go, I have to go, your movements manic and jerking. He grips your arm, jerking you around into his chest, face flushed with anger now, but voice still even, “You’re not fucking listening to me. I only want you,” and yanks your hand to feel the hard cock trapped beneath the confines of his jeans. This is only for you. But it’s not, not in any real way, not in a way that would let you keep him and that realization sets something off inside of you. You thrash in his hold, let me go, let me go, trying to kick him in the shins while he tries to wrap his arms around your struggling form, that rumbling chant constant in your ear, I only want you, I only want you, I am only for you. It feels like he’s burrowing beneath your skin, unzipping you, splaying your insides wide open for his gaze, taking hold of your bones, a puppet on his string. You manage to yank your arm out from beneath his grip and unthinking, a buzzing so high pitched it makes you dizzy and nauseous sounding in your ears, you slap him in the face. Not very hard, maybe, but enough that you hear the crack of your palm meeting the grizzled scruff of his cheek. The sound like a bone snapping, setting off something inside both of you even worse, more frenzied than before. He groans deep in his chest, big hand fisting in your hair and jerking it back so hard you yelp in pain. “Hit me again, do it again. I want you any way I can have you, even angry. Do it again,” he goads you on, but that mindless hand is fisted in his shirtfront now, pulling you closer to him, tear stained mouth seeking his, opening to receive his filthy kiss. 

“I’m sorry,” you cry, but all he says is that he only wants you, again and again, grips you harder, makes it hurt more, and you whine and whimper and scratch and bite, a wild thing, the two of you caught up in some strange struggle of push and pull and want and fight. You can feel the hard length of his cock grinding against your belly, searching for something hot and wet to fuck into, and you hitch your knee around his hip, open yourself to him, listen to his groan in your ear, throaty and full. 

“You just need a little remindin’? Don’t you, huh?” He tugs your head back, none too gentle, to look at your tear slicked face, his eyes on fire, almost a little manic. He spins you away from him, shoving you towards the bed, ignoring your whines and protests, shut up and bend over, pushing you over the edge of the bed and crouching down behind you. “You just need a little remindin’ of how to be a good girl. I know that’s all this fightin’ is. Right, baby?” No, you try and struggle, kicking your leg out uselessly to the side, but he pins you with your arms back behind you at the small of your waist, pushing his shirt up your back to expose the naked curve of your ass and the pussy you know he’ll find humiliatingly wet and hungry for him. “Just need remindin’ of how to be a good girl for me, right?” His fingers slide down to the apex of your thighs, finding you dripping and swollen from his earlier use and your current desire, all twisted up and compounded ten fold with your jealousy. 

“So wet already for me, baby,” he coos at you. 

And oh, he’s so annoying, and you’re so embarrassing and weak for him. “Shut up, old man,” you whine. A single finger enters you slowly, rubbing up against all the terribly sensitive and swollen places inside of you, then pulls his wet fingers from you to deliver a single stinging swat to the curve of your ass, sticky wet imprint of yourself left behind. 

“Yeah, and this old man fucks you better than anyone else,” he slips his fingers gently back inside of you, “Remember that you little whore,” he says even more gently. The words make you twist and writhe, a terrible flush of lust burning through you. He feels you tighten around his fingers, groans appreciatively. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” He twists his fingers inside of you, pressing hard against something that makes you feel like you’re about to wet yourself. You cry out, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head, refusing to answer. “No lyin’. You daddy’s little whore?”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head, your hips moving with the rhythm of his thrusting fingers. He brushes his thumb slowly over your pulsing clit, plays you like a game. 

“No?” His voice is so soft, so teasing. 

“I’m not your whore–”

“You’re not? Then what are you, baby? Tell me.”

You’re right there, so close, about to come on his fingers. “I'm your baby. I'm your baby. I’m yours– I belong to you, daddy.” He pulls his fingers from your cunt, hand coming to grip your ass cheek so hard it hurts, fingernails digging into your soft skin, dragging down the smooth surface. You can hear him panting behind you, shaking, trying to control himself. He makes a gruff, rough sound in his throat, gentles his grip on you. 

“You don’t think I don’t get fucking jealous?” he spits when he’s finally managed to control himself. “You think I don't think about you with my own son and want to die? That he got to have you in a way I never will, and even worse, wasted you? You don’t think it makes me sick with envy?” He brings his fingers back to play in your wet folds, feels the slick drip of you, thrums at your clit, opening you to him with a hand on your cheek and licking you from clit to asshole. Running the flat expanse of his tongue over the length of your sex and then sucking hard at the apex of nerves, hard enough that you can’t tell if it hurts or feels good or a little bit of both. He’s got you bent over the end of his bed facing the dresser so that you have a clear view of the two of you in the mirror above it. And the sight of him, massive frame crouched down behind you, huge and hulking, face buried in your cunt from behind, the curved slope of his nose, the long, thick lashes, eyes closed like he’s enjoying himself more than he’s ever enjoyed anything else in his entire life as he licks your ass and sucks on your clit. He pulls back, and you watch, almost in slow motion, as he shocks you by swatting your entire sex with his big hand, and then immediately brings his face back to lick and kiss your smarting skin. “But he didn’t fuck you the way you needed to be fucked,” he continues. “And I do. He didn’t understand you, but I do. At least I have that.” It sounds like he’s consoling himself, and you can’t help but find consolation in it as well. Your eyes move up to your own reflection, sweat slicked and tear stained, eyes glassy, wet fingers inside of your mouth because you need something to chew on to stand the terrible throbbing in your cunt on the verge of coming. He licks you again, presses his tongue to your asshole. “Did you ever get wet for him like this?” He pulls back, runs the pads of his fingers over your clit in fast, hard up and down motions, makes it feel so good it hurts, you’re right there, you’re right there, pulls away. “Were you ever desperate for him like this? Cunt all drippy and swollen and pathetic for him like you are for me, my sweet baby?”

Never, daddy. Never. Only you. You can’t lie to him when he’s got his tongue inside of you, it’s just not possible. Only me. Only mine. You press up on your tippy toes, roll back down onto the balls of your feet, “Yeah, rub that sweet pussy all over daddy’s face,” he mumbles into your skin, slurps at you. He wraps his lips around your clit once more, sucks and licks and sucks again, and your cunt goes so, so tight, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, daddy, and then just stops. Pulls away entirely, gets to his feet, leaves you to throb and shiver and beg, whole body flashing hot and cold on the precipice of orgasm. Still holding you pinned in place with your wrists at the small of your back, you watch his eyes roam along your draped form, he drags his hand down the wet length of his face, wiping the drippiness of your slick away. “Stay just like that for me,” and his eyes move to yours in the mirror, as if he’s known the entire time just how riveted on him you’d been. “What?” He asks with a crooked brow and a mean little smirk. “You think you get to come? After that little display?”

“Don’t be mean,” you whisper, staying exactly as he’d directed. Trying your best to be a good girl. 

“Shoulda thought of that before, sweet girl.” He bends over the length of you so you’re eye to eye now, gets his face right up close to yours and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You wanna pretend to fight, stand there like an indignant little girl stomping your foot and yellin’ about bein’ jealous while my come runs down your thighs still. Obviously, I’m not doin’ a good enough job of remindin’ you you’re mine, how much I want you. Gonna fix that now.” Presses another soft kiss to your mouth now. 

“You’re trying to dominate me,” you whine, struggling to press against his mouth again even as he pulls back out of your reach, plants a big palm between your shoulders to keep you still. 

“You bet your fuckin’ ass I am. You’re gonna do what I tell you to when you’re letting me fill you with my come the way you are. And you’re gonna like it too. You get me?”

“Yes, daddy.”

But then he goes serious, that teasing glint in his eyes flickering away suddenly. “You have nothing to be jealous of. Ever. I don’t want anyone but you. I don’t care about anything else but this.” And even though you’re sure it must be a lie, it sounds so lovely, you choose to believe him for now. You nod up at him, sniffling and crying again a little bit. “And no one takes care of you like I do,” he finally says, as if it’s a reminder, a consolation to the both of you once again. 

And he’s right, as he tells you to stay put, be a good girl and not move, leaves you there bent over the bed, that chant sounds in your mind, no one takes care of you like he does, no one, no one, no one. 

-

He steps back into his bedroom to the sight of you still draped over the bed, big eyes wet and slightly vacant, pussy red and swollen and bared to him like a wound with his name on it. You’d brought your fingers up to your mouth, chewing on your fingernails the way you did sometimes when you were anxious or overwhelmed, and when your eyes flit to him, taking in the bowl of warm water, the washcloth and shaving cream in his hold, they go wide, shocked. He arranges his things, gripping you by the hips to turn you over, pulling his shirt from you, leaving you entirely naked, and settling between your spread thighs. “Wh– what are you doing?” Voice all breathy and hitched, the thrum of your excited pulse in your throat. 

“Gonna shave you bare. Then I’m gonna eat you ‘til you’re crying, ‘til you’re so swollen you can barely take my fingers. After that, I’m gonna wedge my cock inside you and fuck you ‘til you’re so full’a my come you’ll remember not to forget you ain’t got no reason to be jealous ever again.” He strokes your curls gently with the pad of his thumb, something like fondness in the gesture, clicks his tongue. “These’re so pretty. Gonna miss ‘em.”

“Oh my god,” you choke when he drapes the water warmed washcloth over your spread pussy.

“You wanna be a brat, you wanna fight and act like you don’t know I belong to you and you to me? That none of that other shit matters– I’m gonna remind you, don’t worry.”

You crane your neck, pushing up on your elbows to watch him remove the washcloth and cover the soft curls of your groin with shaving cream. When he opens the blade and brings it to your skin, the sight of the straight edged blade against you, the smooth cream as the steel reveals the bare, satin soft skin beneath, has your chest heaving, sweat pooling at the little notch of your throat –  fucking gorgeous and his.

“You’re going to be so sensitive, baby,” he murmurs as he bends your leg back and opened wide, splitting you for his gaze. Delicate with the movements of his wrist as he shaves you. “All bare and slick down here, just for me. You’re so swollen already.”

You mumble something, moaning and letting yourself flop back against the mattress, he’s quick to pull the blade from you, pausing his movements while you settle, gives you a second to press the balls of your palms into the sockets of your eyes, whining Joel and daddy and please. And the trust in this moment between the two of you, that you’re letting him wield a blade so close to your fragile center, letting him do this to you as a way to remind the both of you of the power you cede and wield over and to one another, something that gives him the opportunity to inflict his will in a way that recenters you, reminds you that you’re his, his to do with you as he will, and it’s just the two of you in this space and you trust each other implicitly, it has a sense of control swelling inside of Joel, making his cock rock hard in his jeans, leak down his thigh. Control in a way there is none of in everything else between the two of you. Control in a way there cannot exist in any other aspect of your relationship. When he’s finished, he cleans you slowly with a new warm, damp cloth, then goes to put away his supplies, and when he returns, he looms over you, taking in the sight of your little bald cunt now. 

Slowly, he starts to pull his clothes off, watching the quick panting of your breathing, the dip and swell of your belly, so aroused by the intimacy you’ve just shared that your pupils are blown wide and dark. “You’ve made such a mess, little girl,” he says, dragging a single finger through your overflowing slit, following the slick from your swollen clit to your asshole where it pools beneath. He fingers your folds gently, avoiding your swollen clit, your little hole winking at him wantonly. “Please–” you whisper so softly, almost gasping for breath you can barely get the words out. 

“Oh, I know, sweetheart. I know you need to come so bad, don’t you?” He drags his palms up and down your thighs, up to your waist and then tugs you down over the edge of the bed and onto your knees in front of him, wide eyes riveted hungry on his cock. “How does it feel? So sensitive, isn’t it?” He’s so hard his erection stands straight up towards his belly, balls hanging heavy and full and aching. He gently drags his fingers along your scalp, feels the heat emanating from your skull. “Lick it all over, get it nice and wet so I can put it inside you.” He knows he needs to be careful now. The two of you are wide open to each other in this moment, so on edge he could come just at the look in your eyes, and you, something more than just vulnerable. He’d worried briefly, in the past weeks, if he should stop, send you away, take himself away, tell you it was too much. You were getting too attached, and although he knew it was too late for himself, that he was beyond salvaging when it came to you, he could imagine nothing worse than seeing you come out hurt from this. Could also imagine no scenario in which you wouldn’t anymore. He feeds you his cock, fisted tightly at the root to stave off his impending orgasm, slides all the way to the back of your throat until he feels his tip hit resistance, enjoying the sight of you choking on it for just a second. Good girl. “Fuck– fuck, yes. See, see how good you can be for me?” He tells you as you suck on his tip, hollowing your cheeks and running your tongue all around the wide head, tonguing his foreskin, making him hiss and bear his teeth at you while you look up at him with falsely innocent eyes. He yanks you up and against him, gives you a filthy, wet kiss, all tongue and teeth and false control, swallowing down the taste of his own precum. He’s never felt less in control of himself, of a situation, than he does right now. He has, in these past weeks, entirely lost sight of himself, of what this should and should not have been, blindly led by his cock and his heart. He’s lost all control, and Joel is nothing but weakness and want now. 

Turning you in his arms, he sits at the edge of the bed, thighs spread wide and pulls you onto his lap, impaling you back onto his spit-slick cock so swiftly he doesn't even think you’re expecting it until he’s bumping against your womb, your knees hooked and spread wide over his own. Too desperate to lick your cunt again the way he’d planned. You let out a long, shocked keen, back arching, trying to escape the too big cock suddenly shoved inside of your tiny hole. Joel has to grit his teeth, take deep breaths through his nose and out through his mouth before he can speak at the feel of you fluttering and pulsing around him, “The more you whine, the harder I’ll fuck you, got it?” There’s nothing even close to a coherent response coming out of your mouth, and he was right, shaved bare like this, you’re so much more sensitive. He pulls the lips of your sex gently apart around where he’s impaling you, takes in the sight of your little hole stretched obscenely around his fat cock in the mirror’s reflection and slowly starts to seesaw his hips back and forth, watching his glossy length disappear in and out of you. “How does it feel, baby? You’re so pretty, look at yourself.” He whispers into the small shell of your ear, presses a soft kiss to the lobe, tugs on it with his teeth. He slides in all the way, pulling your hips down so that his balls press against the curve of your ass. “Look, see where daddy’s so deep inside you – can see it in your belly.” Your head lolls back on his shoulder, gaze hooded and delirious, but your hand moves down to the soft skin of your stomach, gently cupping the outline of his cock inside of you. “I’m so deep inside of your tiny cunt, baby. Look at how you’re all mine–” He starts to move again, flicking at your clit, interchanging between fast and hard and slow and so soft you can barely feel it, and your face looks like you want to say something, tell him something, scream, but can’t. And there’s so much he’d like to tell you too, all the things you deserve and probably need to hear from him, but can’t either. He feels you start to tighten up on him, the heat in your body suddenly seeming to flush higher and brighter, almost to boiling, your cunt going so, so tight it almost pushes him out. He presses inside harder, holds you in place with one hand, and thrums fast and hard at your clit with the other, focusing the tip of his cock at the front wall of your pussy, “You’re gonna come–” he grunts, holds you in place and hammers into that swollen place inside of you he’d kill to own for the rest of his life. “Fuck– fuck, you’re gonna squirt all over my cock, aren’t you? Can feel it–” Your face spasms, your belly clenching hard and tight, and you gush, letting out a pained, animal sound, voice broken and breathless, wetting both of your thighs with your come, the bed covers beneath soaked dark. Joel doesn’t stop. He wants more, again, all of you, thrums again at your clit with the pads of his fingers, changes the angle of your hips to roll you fast and hard onto his come-slicked length, pinches your clit hard, watches you squirt all over him again. Something like the sound of his name leaves your mouth in a broken cry, your chewed raw nails trying to claw at him ineffectively. “Dirty fucking girl – creamin’ all over your daddy’s cock,” his voice is gruff, not entirely his own. There’s something here – you’d told him once you’d always felt out of control. In your relationship with Sam, aware of what he was, always, of what you were and were not, and that there was something about control that was so necessary to you now. And there is something here like control, your control over him, taking hold of him entirely so he’s unsure of what it is he should and should not be, here and now, with you. He should not be delusional, he should be aware. He is not adhering to either very well. 

He goes to his feet with you still impaled on his throbbing length, erection so hard it hurts, can barely stand up straight, blood pounding on rhythm to the chant of your name. He pulls you from him, watches the slick slide of your cunt walls dragging along his length, the cream of your slick left as a reminder all over his skin. He presses you onto the bed, rolls you this way and that too look at you all over, bends to drag his tongue through that drippy cunt of yours that squirts and comes so prettily for him, then back up and kneeling above you, between your glossy thighs, and thrusting into that tight cunt, grunting as you clench around him. So hard he feels the screaming tip of his cock punch against your cervix, listens to you make a hurt, hiccupy sound when his balls slap against you.

He should be gentle. He should be careful. He should be aware, not delusional, himself. He should reach back and take hold of that man he always thought himself to be, hard and cold but never cruel. Maybe not good, but always aware and never weak. He’s none of those things now here with you. Joel is now only himself. You’ve made me into a real person, you’d whispered onto his tongue. What he’d not told you was that you’d done the same to him. 

You’re a gift, a gift, a gift, a gift. A gift in the way his son never was. A gift in the way that a whole lifetime lost and returned to him never was, and Joel is weak and two feet tall and made of paper, but for you. Anyways, or despite it all, still made only for you. 

“Fuck me like you’re in love with me,” you say, read his mind, take hold of the beating mass in his chest. Fuck me like you’re in love with me. And maybe you don’t mean it. Maybe you’re too far gone. It doesn’t matter.

He does it anyway. Pulls back, wedges back inside the too swollen, too sensitive, too tiny cunt that belongs to him. He bears his teeth at you, grabs hold of your face so hard you’ll bruise, and fucks you like he’s in love with you. It comes to him so easily, after all. 

Shoving his knees high up beneath your thighs, he brings your ankles to his shoulders, little feet knocking against his ears, he wishes for sense, he finds none, only a deeper, sharper angle. The sounds of your cries and the things you whisper in his ear he knows you should not say and he should not listen to that fill him full of things he should not feel like I was made for you and daddy, there’s no one like you and come inside me, please, please, I need it. He pulls his hips back, swings them forward, listens to the sound of his balls slap, and you beg for harder, savors the fire that pools in his belly and the base of his spine. And he thinks that he should pull out, he’s been so fucking careless with you and your future and your vulnerability, but he’s like a monster full of greed, intent on nothing but staking his claim, leaving a claim, desperate for a way to be remembered or never forgotten or never left behind. “We have to be careful,” he begs you, and feels scared and terrible for a moment, not to be trusted with a gift like this in his hands. “I’m going to get you fucking pregnant, God.”

But you’re like some siren, something taking him away from himself, and you tell him, “I don’t care, I don’t care,” voice gone so far away from yourself too, all hazy, full of bubbles and too cock drunk to be true or sane, but it lands like a gut punch anyway. And Joel tries to hold onto himself he does, he swears he does, tries to remain rational, and aware of what this was supposed to be and not supposed to be. Tells you to please, “Shut up, shut up. Please, don’t say those things to me, I’m begging you.” But eventually that siren song wins out, the feel of your cunt sucking him deeper, milking him dry, your small damp hands pulling at his hair, stubby nails dragging down the skin of his cheeks, over his back, and Joel’s weak now. Weak and full of want and greed and delusion so that all that’s left is capitulation and: “You want daddy to fuck his babies into you? You want me to fill you up and keep you forever?” But something of himself must remain because he covers your mouth, big hand wrapped around your sweaty little face before you can answer, forcing the words silent inside of your mouth, the truth you both know you’d spit out otherwise. Yes, yes, I do. And as if the idea of you carrying his child held a direct like to your orgasm, you start to come around him, overwhelmed cunt, split in two and carved in the shape of his name now, clenching around him, going so wet and hot and tight Joel’s sure he’ll never be able to leave it ever again. You reach down between the two of you, grasp the half of his cock outside of your wet clutch, shiny with your slick and jack him off with sharp little tugs, make sure he fills you with his spend full to the brim. He spills over and out, dribbles down the slope of your ass to leave you lying in a little puddle of his semen, and when he pulls out, careful to not ask you to hold all of his weight over you, he brings your fingers to your gaping cunt, “Feel where daddy’s been,” lets you play in the imprint of himself he’s left behind. 

He lays beside you, steaming hot little thing worming up against him, nuzzling beneath his chin, pressing tiny kisses that tell him all the things the both of you need to hear and say, and he feels himself go cool and dry inside and out. Something terrible suddenly swelling within him. Something that reeks of truth, and you must smell it in the air as well because you share a piece of your own painful honesty with him, force him to confront it. “Sometimes I think I’m impossible to love,” in the smallest voice he’s surely ever heard. 

“Haven’t I shown you how untrue that is?” Because if there’s one thing he’ll never do with you, it’s lie.

You tuck your hand beneath your cheek, and you glow, and he feels blinded by it for a moment, eyes wide and so vulnerably tender, something afraid that makes something equally vulnerable inside of him rage and beat its chest. “Is that what this is? Are we in love, Joel?”

He thinks you must see the fear in his eyes, because yours suddenly go calm, fathomless, something steady for him to hold on to, and that stench of honesty chokes him. “Yeah–” he nods, swallows, thinks of his son, hates himself. “I think so, baby.”

-

What can remain the same after honesty like that? After splitting yourself open and showing each other your insides in such a way? What could possibly remain the same? Nothing. The truth is laid bare, and all that’s left now. And instead of setting you free, the truth never really sets you free, it makes everything terribly fraught and frightened and fragile. 

When he moves to stand, the sound of your desperation for him to make you his in an irreversible way rings like exploding shrapnel in your ears, “Do you think we’re bad?” You ask because you’ve only ever wanted to be good, but his eyes are so haunted, large and round and fathomless. His face, taking on a sudden sort of gauntness as he thinks of what to say to you after the worst has already been said. You watch the line of his throat ripple as he swallows several times, reading the real truth in his eyes before he shakes his head slowly, incongruous like a lie, “Never you,” and he does not include himself, “Never you.” It’s devastating. Devastating that the only thing that’s ever mattered, the thing that has finally made you good, is bad in his eyes. 

You sit at the kitchen table, watching him while he makes dinner for you. Cold and shivery and wet between your legs in a way that’s not comfortable anymore. In a way that feels like an essential part of you is slowly dripping out, leaving you grossly empty inside. The beautiful dinner he’d bought and made for you tastes like ash wrapped in all the honesty surrounding the two of you, and you stare at each other and there's no need for more words because the truth is all right here in front of the two of you to see with your own two eyes. You want to go get dressed, but you don’t want to call attention to the seed of wrongness that’s been planted now. Are we in love? When the answer had so obviously been yes for so long already. Naive, silly girl. And you want to be angry with him. Ask him why he’d done this to you, made you fall in love with him when he’d said before that you couldn’t, when it was all so hopeless. You also want to hear him say it, say the words out loud with teeth and tongue and sound, you want to taste the words in your mouth because seeing them in his eyes wrapped in all that hopelessness isn’t nearly enough to satiate this hunger he’s stoked inside of you. You want to ask him to hold you, to crawl into his lap and have him cradle you like a child protected in the embrace of stronger, wiser arms. You want to have never been put on this path, to have never met his son, never have married him, never have met him. You want the whole terrible ordeal to be wiped from mind and mouth and memory. You want to have not had to accept it all, not have moved on, not be grateful in ways you can’t even understand for the lesson it’d all posed. You want it all to have never happened. To never have experienced the entire convoluted mess of feelings this ordeal of tearing down your entire life to make yourself anew had caused. To have never fallen in love with your ex-husbands father. 

He sits in his chair, hands cupping his chin for so long, silent and staring, probably wondering what to do with you, and when he finally stands, nothing but a long, pained sigh to interrupt the terrible silence, you finally muster the strength to go find that missing bra. Crawl home, once again a ghoul in the night in need of wound licking. And it must be that very same terrible silence, the even more terrible look in his eyes that has something pressurized, set to burst, bottled inside of you because when a knock on the door sounds once again, you don’t even stop for half a thought, exploding suddenly. In his clothes and come, ripping the door open, the words on your tongue ready to spit at her that he’s already got one desperate woman on his hands that needs taking care of, and no, he will not be fixing her dishwasher or her pussy or anything else she thinks she might need him for. 

But it’s not the neighbor. And you have nothing but fear lodged in your throat to spit out when you meet his eyes. 

Eyes like his father’s, colder, crueler, furious and humiliated, take you in. Just fucked hair and a flannel that’s not your own, mis-buttoned, come-dryed thighs. And worst of all, his voice, like he isn’t even that surprised, like he’d come here just to find this, “You fucking whore.”

“Sam–” you’re not sure if you actually say his name, but the intention is held there, on the tip of your tongue. A plea for mercy or a shout for help or protection or something. 

“You fucking whore,” and you flinch at the scream in his throat, scuffle back into the safety of the house of the man you love who is the father of the man you were married to, the man who broke you, the betrayed son. He’s shocked still for a single second, before he’s charging at you, fist not entirely raised but definitely held with consideration. And, “I knew it, I always fucking knew it,” before Joel is there, stepping between you and your ex-husuband, his son, blocking you with his body, big hand wrapping entirely around your forearm to hold you close to himself, to hold you in his protection. 

“You better put your fucking arm down before I break it, son.” That moment, Joel’s voice, the utter betrayal in his son’s eyes. The sound of you breaking something that you should have never ever gotten in between. It is worse than all the rest. You take him in, the sight of this man who you used to be married to, he’d always seemed so large in your eyes before, so unattainable. Something never to be fully touched, only gazed upon. Always apart, always cold. Sam’s eyes fall to the place where his father holds you, and his face spasms, something terrible. Broken and alone, a child cast out into the cold. And you want to say that he seems so different now, haggard and gaunt and whittled down to bare bones, but it isn’t the truth. You always knew what he was, your most terrible bit of honesty. You always knew, you’d just not cared before. There was never any separation, no space for you to take a breath and want better for yourself. To be under his scrutiny, something that at one time felt like admiration, but was never anything even close, it was like nothing else, like everything, a great lie. But he was too aware of it, of himself, of that power he held over you, and unlike his father, he was cruel with it. Your eyes move up to the back of Joel’s head, the hard edge of his jaw, the muscle that spasms furiously there. What would it do to you now to be under that same sort of attention, influence, admiration, but from a kinder, gentler, honest source? What had it done to you? Dangerous to risk yourself again, impossible to stop now. 

“I always knew it,” he says again, “I always knew you wanted him. What? You let him fuck you?” The words in his mouth are a terrible thing, Joel says something, tells him to hold his tongue, to get the fuck out, but your eyes are riveted on the sight of his face, this man you used to be married to who’d broken you so completely, who’d stolen your very memory of yourself. He seems wholly unrecognizable now, and in a way, it frightens you, that someone you’d known for what seemed like so long could be such a stranger now. Joel’s hand is an anchor, such a comfort wrapped around your arm. “You barely let me touch you for two years, but you’ll bend over like a whore for my fucking Dad?” His voice breaks and it makes you want to laugh a little bit. 

Joel shoves him backward, jerking you forward still in his hold. “Say that word one more time in my house, and I won’t be held responsible for what I do to you. And don’t fucking look at her,” he snaps, reaching up to give him a quick two tapped slap on the cheek to focus his gaze on himself. “Get out, Sam. I’ll call you later. We can–”

But unheeded or too far gone, like he needs to hear the sound of the words as a comfort to himself in this moment, Sam looks back at you, “You’re a fucking whore. I wish I’d never met you, I hate you.” Joel shoves him backwards again, harder this time so that his leg slams into the side table, overturning the lamp there into a crashing heap on the floor, so hard that when he pulls you with him it feels as if he’ll wrench your shoulder from its socket with the force of his anger. You yelp in pain, but cling to him anyways, refusing to let him go either, hiding behind the hill of his shoulder. Pushing his son away, not letting you go. It’s wrong, it’s wrong and you’d told him that you wanted to keep him, to take him away from his own son, that you were made of nothing but greed, but there’s something wrong here, inherently not right, bad. 

And even yet, you can’t help the look on your face that must surely be nothing short of humiliating to Sam for the way he reddens, the little muscles in his face jerking uncontrollably. You’re done here, Sam. Get the fuck out, Joel says again, taking a step forward to herd him out, pulling you along, keeping you close. You taunt him with your gaze, can’t help yourself, “I thought I was a prude?” You say from behind the protection of his father’s body. “Isn’t that what you called me for all those years? Thought I was frigid, unfuckable, unlovable? Am I not anymore?” You ask in a small, breathy voice, falsely guileless, entirely provoking. “Have you changed your mind now that I’ve taken your Daddy from you?” False pout and mocking eyebrow.

Joel’s head snaps over his shoulder, incredulous look on his face, and Sam flinches as if struck, splintered glass in the shape of his son’s gaze, it fractures, falls back to where Joel holds you.“I wanted to talk to you,” He says to his father, “I wanted to– You’re really choosing her over me?” It costs Sam something to say this, and you weren’t expecting it either because suddenly, the game changes. His voice is child-like in its hurt, that son who longed for his father for all those years. “After everything that was stolen from us, you’re not going to choose me?” You know in that moment, he’s won. 

“This isn’t about choice, son,” Joel tells him, but you hear it for the lie it is. “This isn’t about you versus her.”

“But it is,” and his eyes flash to yours, victory held in them. “She was my wife. And you’re my father, and you have to make a choice now. This is fucking sick.” There’d always been an intelligence to his cruelty, and he wields it now. The sound of his son’s name is a choked thing in Joel’s mouth. He goes rigid, a painful stillness, muscles vibrating with warring emotions. You hold your breath for it. He looks down at where he holds you, tightens his grip painfully, and then slowly, so that the three of you are sure to take in the whole procession of it, he lets go of your arm. One finger at a time, the heat of his palm leaving you, and you’re alone. 

“It isn’t about choice,” he says again, and yet, one has already been made. You stand still, head bent, gaze riveted on the place where he’d let you go. He takes a step away from you, towards his son, and his voice is low and gentle and soothing now, and you’re still staring at the barrenness of your arm.

I had such potential to be good, you think. He just never saw it. But you don’t know who you mean. And you don’t think it matters anymore. 

They say more to each other. Joel’s hand on his son’s arm now, pushing him towards the door, but still, still comforting for the thing it symbolizes, a benediction of choice, and you turn around to face the other side of the room. You can’t look – wrapping your arms around yourself. You don’t think you’ll run this time. Face it head on, let it be over now in full. Sam’s voice rings shrill, the sound of your name and curses and accusations, fighting a futile fight against his father’s even baritone, the sound of the slamming door, and then silence. When you turn back over your shoulder, they’ve stepped outside together, leaving you alone inside the house. 

He’d asked you once what you wanted, and you can’t fathom what the point of it had been. What does it matter what I want? That’s the least significant thing here. It always was. 

When he finally comes back inside, you’re dressed, lost bra retrieved, your bag packed and sitting at your feet. You’d gone into the kitchen just before, taken a peek at the pie, and you were right, and you don’t know how he could have possibly known, but he’d gotten you rhubarb. Your face is dry now, no tears and no will to cry. There’s nothing to speak of in his gaze when he leans back against the door to look at you, swallowing down words you’re sure will mean nothing in the face of all of this. And you look at him and you love him and you think, I was married to a man once and now I’m not and now I’m with his father and I love him in the way I never loved the son; and so now, I must ask myself, am I merely looking for the love of lesser man, who could have never given me what I needed, in the eyes of a man who seems to have all the answers? 

You don’t think so. And yet, there are still no answers to be had, and no questions left to ask. 

“I’m going this time,” In case he has designs to force you to stay, and even though there’s a light of acceptance in his eyes, he still shakes his head. Swallows and gathers his seams about himself before he says, “You aren’t leaving me,” gaze churning from warry to flinty to resolved. 

“I was never supposed to stay at all. I was never supposed to be for you. You said so yourself– you said we couldn’t fall in love. That I wasn't for you.” You get to your feet, pulling your purse over your shoulder, and he rushes towards you, pushing the bag back down to the floor, taking your face in his hands hard, something like panic in his eyes and in the air and in the vibration of his voice.

“It doesn’t matter, none of that matters– Whatever was before, whatever was in the past doesn’t mean shit when it’s just you and me here together–” And you’re crying now, real, great sobs of grief. 

“You were the one that said we couldn’t fall in love,” you cry again, try and pull away, but he holds you to himself, squeezes you against him, shivers like he too is crying, burying his face in your shoulder. 

“I was a fucking idiot, a damn liar. There was never any other option, baby.” Most terrible of terrible truths, you’d both known if for the lie it was the moment he’d said it, even before, probably. You stand limply in the circle of his embrace. He’d said once that he’d been a coward not to go out and look for you, but you know the opposite is true. No one is more of a coward than you were for not having waited for him. For having been so desperate for love, you’d been willing to settle for the wrong kind. You’ll never be able to settle for false comfort like that again, and it’s all his fault. “You’ve ruined me now. I’m ruined.”

He pulls back to take your face in his hands again, and you were right, he is crying. “I’m ruined! And I need you to give me another chance. I demand another chance– to… to fix this. To–”

But another chance for what? To change what? “He’s your son, and I only want you to be happy.” And you know he couldn’t ever be happy, truly happy, estranged from his only child. After all, like he’d said, the theft of him had been the worst thing ever done. You wouldn’t commit a crime like that against Joel also, never. 

“Baby, please, I think… I– I love–”

“Please–” You press the tips of your fingers to his mouth, silencing him. “Please, don’t do this to me now.” It makes you angry, this intent of his to trap you here with his love when there’s no room for you to stay. You turn away, picking up your bag again, but he snatches you back into himself, wrapping his big arms around your waist, crushing you against his chest. And you’d struggle if you could, but there’s so little fight left in you. “You’re the one that said – you said we couldn’t!”

“I know what I fucking said,” he spits, voice so angry it almost frightens you. “But there’s still– We have to talk, we have to–”

“What can you possibly imagine there’s left to say?”

“Everything.”

“Or nothing.”

“Look at me. Look at me–” He pulls your head back and to the side by your chin. There’s a bright flush sitting high on his cheekbones, and his eyes shift quickly back and forth between yours, searching for a way to fix this. To fix the good thing that’s now been broken. His thumb strokes the point of your chin softly, and he presses his mouth slowly to yours, eyes open to watch for your reaction. “This wasn’t a mistake,” he tells you, “We weren’t a mistake.” Weren’t. The final nail in the coffin. “I know, I know that there are so many things– that we can’t… but just– just stand here with me for one minute, please. Just give me one more second, and I’ll–”

He doesn’t finish the thought, and you let him kiss you one last time. And when he pulls back, because it doesn’t feel like it really matters, and because you just want to hear the sound of it coming out of your mouth, because you wish it was true and not the complete opposite, because you want to be as cruel and ugly outside as you feel on the inside, you whisper, “I hate you,” a full bodied lie. 

His eyes shutter and flicker for a moment, a wash of hurt suffusing them. But because he’s never been a weak man and because he’s always been honest, and he’s always, always above everything else, been good, he says, “And I love you,” and there it is. You’d thought you wanted to hear the sound of that too, but now that you have, it’s more terrible than you could have ever possibly imagined. And after that, there really is nothing left to say. 

-

Joel goes to see his brother afterwards because it’s what he always does and who he always goes to when he’s lost. When a son in the shape of a man made of nothing but childish fear and anger and hurt, had appeared one day, dropped out of the blue sky, onto his front porch, when he realized he wanted his daughter-in-law in a way no good man should. And now, that he’s admitted, because the realization had already been there, swift and uncompromising, the admittance had been all that was left, the hard going part, that he was in love with you – in love with the woman who had been married to his son, here he finds himself again. Lost and weak and two feet tall, made of nothing but hollow bones. “I’m not myself,” he tells Tommy, and then amends the lie because he’s not come here to tell lies. “She’s made me into someone I don’t recognize and wish I could be forever.” How would he get his old self back now? Impossible. You’d taken him away with you, he was only half made now, half man, half strength. And Tommy is understanding because it has always only been the two of them, and he’s always seen Joel for exactly who he is without judgement. The most honest eyes in the whole world, his brother. “I'm afraid that she’s the love of my life. I’m afraid that I’m not really so afraid at all. And she won’t even talk to me.” You’d left his house a week and a day ago, and Joel was going out of his mind, losing pieces of himself along the way, his sanity, his sense of right and wrong, his self restraint, self possession. He was about to do something crazy, he felt it gnawing and itching at his bones. He could barely remember the look of betrayal in his own son’s eyes amidst the madness of the memory of the hurt in yours, the sight of you walking away from him. “And my son. My son, my child, Tommy, he hates me. And I’m in love with the woman he used to be married to, who he hurt. And he’s a cruel and small man, and he needs me. He needs my help, and I have a responsibility to him. But Tommy– Tommy, I love her. She’s mine. And what am I going to do? What am I going to say to him? How will I ever face him again? She’s mine, and I– I can’t explain it, I can’t excuse it. But she’s mine– she’s my woman. She belongs to me. I know this as well as I know my own name, my own face.”

And his brother, his brother, his brother who always understands him, who always stands beside him, he claps him on the shoulder and says, “If anyone can find a way, Joel, it’s you. I know you can. You’re stronger and smarter than anyone I’ve ever known. And you don’t abandon yours.” And so Joel must believe him because Tommy is his brother, and he knows him, and he knows that even though he’s weak now, even if he must let himself be weak now, in the face of all of this, Joel is not truly a weak man where it counts. 

-

You and Sam had only ever spoken once on the topic of children. It was, from the first moment broached, a non possibility, not even half of an option. Devastating, but now, all this time later, almost like a grace from God. You’d wanted a baby so badly, more than anything in the whole world, and he would not give you one. He’d said your desire for a child was incongruous with your cold nature, how frigid you were. 

And you’d been so long, caught in the who am I, in the what am I doing. You never stopped to ask why. Molded into a bad shape, but mute and deaf to the intricacies of what had carved you so. You’d needed to destroy yourself entirely, tear down everything around yourself, and then recreate yourself and everything else in your life in a new image. Perhaps, then, you’d finally have the chance to be good.

Your husband’s father had given you this. Joel had given you this. 

And Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel. How to tell him that you’re sorry? That you’re vile and cruel and yes, even cold sometimes, but for him, for him you can find it in yourself to be soft, something to be forgiven, you hope. His son had called you a prude, and then, his father’s whore. Did it matter what the truth was? You weren’t so sure. Did you want Joel because you were a whore? Because your own father had never loved you, and you were thus desperate to fill that void left by lesser, crueler men? Did it matter? You hated the idea that this desire for him had to have been born by consequence of another man. What about what you wanted? What about the fact that it felt good when he was inside of you? When he gave it to you rough and hard and when he told you that you belonged to him because you did, because it was the truth. What about the fact that you were in love with him? That should have counted more because you said it counted more. And then that was it, nothing more to the thing of it. So what if he was the father of the man who’d been your husband? The man who’d stolen all of your surety, your passion, yourself. Sometimes, retribution feels fucking good. So what about it? And then, and after all, you were in love with him. So what did it all matter after that? 

People liked to say that sometimes a bad thing is worth it if it feels good enough. But what if you didn't think it was bad at all, and what if it didn’t just feel good enough? What if it’s actually everything, the best thing you’d ever had in your whole life? And what if it is simply and solely, or maybe even also, who cares, who cares, what if it is simply because it’s Joel? Joel who is beautiful and strong and good. Maybe even perfect in a way that you need. 

He’d told you once that he’d never had the chance to be angry, that it had been stolen from him, the worst thing ever done to me, he’d said. You know that you could never do that to him. Never hurt him in that way. And there might be so many options. Choices. Truths. Yourself. Finally, you are only yourself. Good in the way he’d shown you to be. In a way that did not bow to anything but the sort of goodness you needed. But Joel; above all else, Joel. He is the first choice, and everything else seems inconsequential after that. What is goodness worth in the face of all he’s given you? 

So, you sit now, within the basin of your empty bathtub, no more leaky kitchen sink echoing through your empty apartment, he’d fixed it weeks ago, and peer over the lip of the tub. And there, blinking up at you from the face of the skinny pink and white stick, is your answer to goodness. It had always been within yourself. And you think, if it must be just the two of us now, then let it. After all, your father has finally taught me how to be good. 

End.

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[dsybouquet]

ceo! ellie - 4

“see the stars, they’re shining bright. everything is alright tonight”

read part 3 here !

ellie woke up by the sound of glasses moving. tiredly, she rolled around, noticing your absence. the light was already beaming in from your bedroom window. how late was it? regardless, ellie got up and made her way down the hallway to meet you in the kitchen.

„morning!“

you smiled, noticeably already running on a cup of coffee. ellie rubber her eyes, groaning a small ‚morning‘ back with her raspy morning voice.

perhaps you had a little heartattack because of how how she manages to sound and look that good while you‘re fumbling around with cups and plates.

„want a coffee?“ you ask while already pouring some in a cup and handing it to her.

ellie, in the meantime, sat down at your kitchen table, watching you clean up your kitchen. she had to admit, you looked adorable while doing so. still in pyjamas, no make up, hair a little messy.. she could get used to that view.

“what time is it?“ she asked after the first few sips of coffee.

you looked at the time on your microwave. „9.45 am“

quickly, ellie pulled out her phone to see if there was anything to be missed. in fact, she had 4 missed calls from dina, 5 from jesse and 1 from an unknown number. she didn’t dare to take a look into her messages app.

„fuck.“, she groaned, letting her head fall into her hands.

“what‘s wrong?“ you asked her, sitting down on the other side of the table.

„work. still have to plan an event.“ her hands still supported her head. truth is, ellie didn’t want to. she hated planing and holding speeches on events. she hated the people acting all nice around her when truth was they despised her for taking over joels work.

you nodded, almost forgetting that ellie wasn’t just a girl, she was a business woman.

“i suppose you need to go soon then?”

“yeah.”

ellie looked up to you, her eyes covered in almost a sad glace. the time she spends with you makes her feel so free, like there isn’t a company to run or an event to plan or an problem to solve. its pure sweet freedom, the one she has been seeking for ages.

“if you need fresh clothes, check my closet. this way you don’t need to drive home first.” you said with the softest smile on your lips. maybe you also just liked the thought of her wearing your stuff although it may not fit her perfectly.

“i would just keep that hoodie on, if you don’t mind, dear?”

“of course not!”

the way the petnames rolled off her lips made you weak in the knees.

no matter how stressed ellie felt, she took her time drinking her coffee, keeping up a conversation with you while doing so. she kindly declined breakfast as she wasn’t the person to eat right after getting up.

slowly, you two got ready for the day. brushing teeth and hair, getting changed. ellie enjoyed the slow morning with you - although she knew dina and jesse would fuck her up for this.

together you walked to the beautiful white bentley outside. in your eyes, ellie looked so adorable. the tailored suit pants paired with your oversized university hoodie. she looked so casual, so suit, no black turtleneck - just a pretty girl that spend the night at someone’s place.

“i’ll text you later, okay? maybe we can grab some food?” she asked as gentle as always, smirking slightly.

“i’d love that.”

ellie knew you’d spend your day with your laptop and books, studying for the upcoming exams. maybe a little dinner date would make you feel better after.

she pulled you in a tight hug, stroking your hair lightly.

“see you later, pretty girl.”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

“what the fuck took you so long?”

dina was pissed, and maybe she was right about it. after all, miller enterprises almost got sued over some stupid agent.

“sorry.” ellie groaned in return, letting herself drop onto her leather office chair.

rolling her eyes to the back of her head dina called jesse and a few more members of the team to meet in ellies office.

“everything is set. while you were gone enjoying youself, we organised an event hall and a catering service.” jesse explained, putting some contacts and sheets of paper on ellies desk.

“invitations have been sent, celebrities and influencers as well as important business people have been invited. the charity event, as per wish of the andersons, will be dedicated to the saint mary hospital. helping finding a cure for terminal child illnesses.” dina continued, catching ellies attention.

“this is a lovely topic. helping research for kids that need it.. very well done, team.” she admitted, signing the checks that were in between the paper stack jesse put infront of her.

everybody stood around her desk, watching her silently, waiting for an objection or something to change. to their surprise, ellie was calm. soft tempered, reading through every detail.

“next friday?” she then asked, looking up at everybody.

“yessir.”

“fine. we can get everything done by then.”

they kept on discussing business manner some of the lower tier agents for organisations didn’t understand. after all some were too stunned by the fact that they were standing in their ceos office.

“everyone aware of what to do? are we all aligned?”

everybody nooded. some ‘aye sir’ and ‘yes ma’am’ coming from different corners. ellie took that as a clear yes.

“i expect a perfect event. i shall keep my eyes on your hands while doing so. if you need anything, be it budget or approval, send it to your team leader or to jesse to let me sign it, all clear?”

again, nodding and silent approvals.

ellie grinned, sometimes she loved the power.

“you’re all dismissed then.”

everybody, except for dina and jesse, left her office. ellie wished her friends left too. she wasn’t ready for tales about how she was irresponsible by being inactive and not checking her phone.

“didn’t know you went to university?” dina joked, leaning against a wall with her arms crossed. “another girl to play and show off with? is it that bartender girl?”

this woman knew how to piss ellie off. she rolled her eyes and got out of her comfortable leather seat.

“first of all, thats none of your business, dina. i didn’t say a word about you and jesse as well.”

“well you just di-“

“jesse, not know!”

jesse laughed demonically, knowing his jokes can be quite a bit.

“and second of all, i am always on top of everything. once i sleep in you act like my fucking mother!”

“didn’t you wish for one?”

if dina wasn’t her best friend, ellie would’ve grabbed her by the neck and pushed her against the wall. it was a button you shouldn’t be pushing when talking to ellie. she was quite reserved about her past, about everything before joel.

„dina that’s enough!“ jesse threw in, getting in between the women.

„i‘ll send you approved contracts to sign.“ dina added before leaving the office.

ellie felt defeated and just looked at jesse.

„can you like leave too? i got work to do.“

„if you need anything let me know.“

„i won‘t but thanks, jesse.“

and so he left her in her huge office by herself. a huge groan left her throat before she activated her coffee machine for another cup. ellie light a cigarette and sat down at her desk. dina always had to pull the family card, opening old wounds that haven’t properly healed inside of ellie yet. there was no time to heal when you had a company to run.

she did her paperwork, read the contacts dina mailed her and approved or declined them. she took boring business calls and attended meetings with the top tier managers.

finally she called it a day and called you on her way to her car.

„hey ellie!“ you sweet voice light up her moof immediately.

“hey dear, can i come pick you up?”

oh, how you hoped she wouldn’t hear your smile in your voice.

“of course ! didnt finish studying yet but it can wait.”

ellie made her way to the garage of the office building, still having you on the phone.

“alright, i will be there in 20!”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

and she was. perhaps your were already waiting outside, wearing your favourite skirt paired with a hoodie and leather jacket, heeled boots underneath.

“hey.” again, she pulled you in a soft hug after getting out of her bentley before opening the door for you to get in.

“so, where are we going?”

“my apartment. im not feeling many people in a restaurant right now.”

you nodded, understanding the burden of work and after studying for what felt like ages, you were happy to not have dinner in a restaurant.

ellie drove off your street, 80s rock playing again. the sun was already down due to the winter nights. still, her car and her aura was so warm.

she stopped in front of an huge building that looked way to expensive to be an apartment building. pressing a little button on a remote control in her car, the doors to an underground garage opened. being an student that’s hardly living on budget, you were stunned.

and before you could notice, you stood in an elevator driving to the top floor of the apartment. the doors opened, and in front of you was probably the most gorgeous apartment you’ve ever seen. plants, led lights and lamp, nerdy posters and figures.

“welcome to my place.”

you were a hooked by the view from the enormous windows all around you. the skyline of the town was beautiful.

she helped you take off your jacket and put it on the hanger - as gentle as always. “thank you.” you smiled.

she showed you around. showing you her kitchen which was an dream, her two bathrooms that were so huge and beautiful, her living room, her bedroom and office. this apartment was an absolute dream. all black and white furniture, color coming from plants and posters.

“ellie this is an insane place.”

“took me a good while to get it like this, thank you.”

she smiled before getting wine glasses and a bottle of way too expensive looking wine.

“i was thinking about ordering pizza, im not a good cook unfortunately.”

“i would love that.”

and so you ordered pizza and drank way too expensive wine, talking, smoking cigarettes and maybe a little bit of weed too. you never felt so full filed in your life - neither did ellie.

“______?”

“hm?” you replied, looking up and taking a sip of the wine. ellie adored the way you look, slightly drunk, eyes full of life. how she wanted to have you for herself, but you hardly have entered the talking stage, did you?

by staring at your pretty eyes, she forgot what to say.

“ellie?” you laughed, putting her back to reality.

“uh yeah ! i wanted to ask uhm.. my company is having a charity event next friday and aah if you’re free, i’d love to have you coming alongsides me.”

you smiled, moving slightly closer to her.

“so like your date?”

ellie started blushing, but hid it well.

“if you wanna call it that.” she smiled in return, ignoring the fact that she was starting to get shy by your energy. the tension was think enough to be cut with a knife. god, you wanted to kiss her right in that spot.

“i’d love to.” you said, close enough for her to grab your face and kiss you. but she didn’t, not yet.

°˖✧✿✧˖°

and with that, merry christmas my loves ! sorry for taking ages. this is not proof read so if anything doesnt make sense, mind i wrote this in the middle of my christmas stress and cooking etc. anyways, one more part is yet to come. <3

love, daisy xx

taglist: @harrysslutsstuff @vwonnie @mikaaj @elliewilliamsgf69 @weridcattty @feelsoseencantdream @honeymoonbbie @katymae12344 @aouiaa @bbglmfao @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @nakimushiohime @p4ison1vy @keilyskei @angelicagellyka @kerst666 @littlegingerperson

[tokkiwrites]

FAWN HEART, PART ONE : The night's desire.

dark!joel miller x f!reader

part one | part two | part three | more coming soon.

summary: After a few months of being together, you move in with your boyfriend, 'Adam'. His landlord, Joel Miller, takes a special liking to you.

tags: murder, stalking, spying, mention of abuse, mention of blood, violence, age gap, vulnerable reader, stalker joel, mentions of abusive relationship, pet names, she/her pronouns (let me know if i missed anything.)

ㅤ↪ㅤtokki's ۫ 𐑺 𝚜𝚞ׂ𝚐𝚊𝚛 ࣭ note ˑ ⌕ ࣭ ּ ➭ staring my first series ever !! of course, I will continue it only if this first part does well ( so no spice for now!! ). for now, we're starting off a bit mild, & I'm leaning more on the double storylines . this is short with only 1.5k words, but it's a little gift since i was gone for so long. sorry if it sucks! remember, requests are opened, and your feedback matters the most to me 🐰

【commencing】 : a heart as soft as the embrace of spring. She welcomed everyone with open arms, seeing the best in people, and never turned anyone away, no matter the pain. Her kindness boundlessㅡ she gave without expecting anything in return. But this gentle nature often left her defenseless. she continued to believe in the goodness of others, her fawn heart resilient and unwavering, oblivious to those trampling on it. her fawn heart, her weakness.

「may 04th ㅡ O2:08 AM」

he didn't know her. didn't deserve her. the nerve he had saying he loved her when he doesn't know what love is...he doesn't know what kind of love she needed.

so when he left for work every night, her true love would sneak in. Joel wasn't the romantic type, but for her, he'd do it all. he'd sit there, watching her sleep, staring as her soft lips puffed out when she took her shallow breaths as she slept - how her lashes laid so perfectly onto her cheeks.. that's all he could do - stare. no touching. It killed him. how that asshole could do all that he pleased to her and how she would accept almost nothing in return.

she was sweet. bitterly. her soft, gaze a testament to the trials she's been through. she could've had so much more, yet she chose this moron. Joel couldn't understand why? not just why she chose that - but why everything when it came to her. why? everything about her, she was an enigma. when Joel first set eyes on her, that's all he could think of. why? and how? how could he have lived so long without his angel by his side.

that was 6 months ago. Tonight, it's a little less cold outside- its may, and the summer smell fills the air, as branches sway next to the window in a tireless dance. cars sound in the distance, as late night chatter of the streets fill Joel's ears and her scent his nose. drowning - suffocating him in the anticipation that maybe for one night he'd have her. he never wanted to scare her - to hurt her. she's precious, a porcelain statuette he had to have. Joel was adamant. kissing her only with his gaze, he got up only as the moon kissed the sun goodbye, and the chickadees started their long-awaited song.

「june17th ㅡ O8:42 PM」

late again. he's always late, letting her wait with no sign for hours. it was his birthday, not that Joel cared, but the thin walls provided him with utmost soundㅡ any and all sounds.

she was crying, and he didn't want to budge in making it weird for her, but his heart twisted when he knew she wasted tears on a shit-head like Adam.

but he let his heart get the best of him, and maybe, just maybe, this was the moment when he let his heart dictate, and she finally realizes that she's better than that. better than Adam. Better for Joel. He makes his way to the apartment next door, thinking if he should be honest with her or make up a lame excuse like late payment on utilities or donations for a new front door. He knocked twice, his palms sweaty. This girl made him feel all giddy like a teenager again, heart racing, his dreams full of her. The door cracks open, revealing just half of her red, puffy face with make-up pushed around.

"Y-yesㅡ"

"Hey, there, Iㅡ is everything alright, fawn darling?" his eyes furrow, a weight settling down in his stomach. he couldn't stand seeing her like this. her eyes finally reach his, a glint of gratitude glimmering within them. "hi, Mr.Miller. I'm fine justㅡ" she sighs. "Adam bailed on me.. again!" she tries to laugh it off, wave it as a joke, but the pain in her spirit is apparent. "Sorry if i was, you know... crying too loud. I'll keep it down -"

"fawn...darlin', you know-" Joel's gaze softened "you know you can always come to me if you ever need a shoulder to cry on. As corny as that sounds, 'm all here for ya." looking down at her, he dares not break eye contact.

"Thank you, Mr.Miller.."

"I told you to call me Joel, didn't I?" he tsks, straightening his back. "I feel too old when you call me mister.." Joel admits, in a playful manner. "Got it. Joel." How it rolls off her tongue like honey. how he wants to lick off every drop and indulge into her like the powerful drug she is, so deeply coursing through his being, wishing he'd hear her scream his name underneath him one day. "Right, so- if you ever want anythin'.." he scratches his rough beard. "I'm one door away."

"Thank you, Joel." she steps out barefoot, throwing herself into Joel's arms, hugging him whilst her sweet perfume envelopes them both. Joel breathes inㅡ so close. At last, the hug is broken, and she scurries back inside, leaving Joel stuck in his fantasy.

"My sweet fawn."

「july 3rd ㅡ OO:35 AM」

"Why so hostile, little bird? I thought you liked it when i touched you like this.. a little rough." he rasped, voice scratching at her chest like a knife. "Adam, you're drunk. let's justㅡ get inside." she manages to huff out as her palms lay flat on Adam's chest, pushing him away. "Baby- c'mon, be a doll."

"stop, Adamㅡ stop!" you could hear the frustration in her voice, and the tears that were brimming at the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall.

he couldn't just stand there and witness this. he'd regret it forever, unquestionably. " 's everything alright here?" Joel tries to play it cool. He doesn't want to let off too much. He doesn't want it to escalateㅡ for her to get hurt.

" Mr.Millerㅡ"

"Yeah, none of your business, man. Just leave, okay?" Adam scoffs, staring down the hallway where he heard Joel's voice, thinking to himself, 'what this old geezer was doing up so late'. "careful, boy. don't want ya to hurt your pretty lady, ok? just makin' sure everything is -"

"yeah, i fucking said everything is alright, so mind your fucking business, dude!" he spat "Jesus, man." Joel does nothing but smile. Does this Adam guy know what he has gotten himself into? Surely not.

He stretches his neck, making it crack as he takes one step closer to where the couple was. By this time, she was already starting to panic, soft pleads leaving her mouth as that jerk held onto her frame, shaking it up whilst he threw rude remarks towards Joel.

"Let go of her, boy."

"Fuck outta here, old ass. Don't make me come to you, I'm not nice when I'm drunk."

"Oh, I know." Joel promptly comes closer so that only a part of his face is visible by the light of the moon shining through the large window.

"Adam, let's just -"

"Quiet, bitch!" With a swift turn, Adam managed to deliver a harsh backhanded slap to her head, the pounding pain sending her a few steps back, right into the wall. "See, if you weren't here I would've gotten some pussy tonight. But you had to show up." Adam laughs, shaking his hand to recover from the hit. "You a knight in shining armor, or what?"

"You apologize to her, before I rip your fucking legs off and shove them up your sorry ass." Joel was calm. he tried his hardest to not run towards her, embrace her in his tight armsㅡ but he had other plans for now.

"Spare me the threats, old man. one wrong move, and your whole body dislocates." Adam laughs hungrily, shoving joel. or at least attempting. " I don't even know why you care so much. This bitch was onto me the whole night, but when its time to finally get the dick she shys away." he raises his arm again, oblivious to the knife Joel had aimed straight to his jugular, all this time, impatiently thirsting over the thought of Adam's blood gushing onto him. At first Adam is confused, but as he catches a glimpse of Joel's dark grin in the moonlight he finally realizes― he'd been stabbed.

with one palm over his mouth, joel grabs Adam closer, the knife slitting further into his flesh, now reaching his ear.

"You gotta know how to respect your elders, boy." Joel sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, staring deep into Adams eyes as he retracts the knife and promptly shoves it right between his eyes, with enough force that you could hear a faint 'crunch' sound. "ㅡand your lady." In a failed attempt to reach for the girl that was frozen in place, Adams pathetically tries to grab onto her dress as he collapses to the ground.

everything is silent for a moment.

So she stood there, watching as the blood from the splayed body pooled at her feet, the only sounds bouncing off the walls that bathed in darkness were her short breaths and slow steps approaching to where she practically turned to stone.

"'s alright, baby fawn . he can't hurt you no more. i promise."

[mountainsandmayhem]

Congrats again!!! You deserve all the love 🥰

📝You know I’m already gonna ask for a Drabble about my man Joel 😂 I am thinking in the middle of outbreak and they get a moment alone in an abandoned building and he has some fun with reader 😈 I want that filthy mouth of his 🤭

A Lesson in Listening

18+

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joel stumbles into your hideout and proceeds to change your whole life during the outbreak.

“I told you to stay fucking behind me,” Joel growls, shoving you into an abandoned Target. You’d been camped out here for a few days, before Joel “sex on legs” Miller wandered in.

“Sorry. I was trying to help!” And you really were. Raiders are almost worst than infected, and you made a stupid move and almost got caught. But your intentions were to help.

“Need to teach ya to listen, darlin’,” he huffs, looking you over to make sure you aren’t hurt. His concerned slowly melts from his face, replaced with something wicked. Sinister. Eyes glazing as he looks down at you with deep black eyes. His tongue pokes into the side of his cheek as he steps back and crosses his strong arms across his broad chest.

“That what you need? A lesson in listenin’?” His voice is dark and husky, and you feel it in your clit as she vibrates for him. This man, this fucking man, and his almost unfair ability to turn you into a soaking hot mess with just a look.

You wet your lips, watching as his eyes dart to your mouth, and then to the column of your throat as you swallow the dry lump of desire that’s forming. “I promise I’ll listen from now on, Joel. I’m sorry.” It comes out weak and shaky.

“Prove it,” he challenges. “Get on your knees.”

You don’t hesitate. Dropping to the chipped and dirty linoleum floor. It’s cold through your jeans, and it hurts the large bruise that’s forming from the earlier attack. But you push through, Joel has intoxicated you in the last few days. Somehow winding himself so deep into the fabric of your being. Anything for him, you’ll follow him to the ends of the earth just to hear him say your name; never mind all the other dirty shit you have, and will continue to oblige too. Happily. Easily. Gladly.

“Take off your shirt and play with your tits,” he leans against an empty rack that at one point would have been filled with candles or seasonal displays.

As your shirt comes off, the cool air pebbles your nipples, but your hands, and the fire in his gaze, warms you as you knead your breasts.

“Pinch your nipples,” he barks. You rush again, rolling your hard little nipples between your thumb and forefingers. He shakes his head, chuckling throat his nose as you moan. “So you can listen?”

You pinch harder, gasping at the mix of pain and pleasure. “Yes, I’ll listen Joel.”

“Good,” he states as he removes his shirt. You feel the slick between your legs growing as you take in his sculpted body. His chest hair is somehow perfectly sculpted even though it’s the middle of the goddamn apocalypse. The happy trail of hair down the middle of his toned abs makes your mouth water. You know exactly what that trail leads to. His thick, ruthless cock.

“Crawl to me!” His deep command echos through the abandoned store. You waste no time, placing your hands on the floor and crawling over to him. He turns around and walks to the bed, sitting on the edge with his legs spread wide.

“That’s it. All the way to me.” He’s enjoy this way too much. When you reach him, you sit back on your heels and look up at him through your lashes.

“The bed was shakin last night. Wanna tell me what you were doin?”

Blush lights your cheeks and you look down at your hands. “Ummm…I-I was…”

Joel’s strong hand cups your chin gently and tilts your face up to meet his. “Come on. Be a good girl and tell me.”

“I was….touching.” You shouldn’t be embarrassed, you’re an adult woman, but something about admitting to Joel that you needed more last night feels wrong.

“Touching what?” He whispers, one eyebrow raising.

“Myself,” you say nervously.

“You mean you were touching MY pussy,” he says. It’s not a question, he told you last night that she belongs to him now.

“Y-yes. I just…I needed more.”

“I fucked ya stupid yesterday and that slutty little thing needed more?”

You nod sheepishly, avoiding his gaze.

“Show me,” he says darkly. The tone of voice causing goosebumps to raise along your exposed skin.

“W-what?”

He pats the bed, “take off your clothes, and show me. Show me how you make yourself come.”

He holds his hand out to you, as you slip your small hand into his large palm he helps you up and guides you to the bed. You lie down, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them and your panties off in one motion. Joel shuffles to sit on the foot on the bed, looking up at you.

“Don’t get shy on me. Show me how you did it last night.” His rough hands reach to push your legs apart, his pupils dilate when he sees your glistening pussy on display.

“What do you do to yourself, baby? Do you gather all that slick and slip your fingers in? Do you just rub your clit? Maybe you do both.” He’s practically salivating as he looks at you.

Your chest rises and falls with shaky breaths. No one has ever watched you touch yourself before. You feel nervous as his honey flecked eyes burn into you.

“Show me!” He says loudly, voice echoing through the large, empty building.

You gasp in fear, hand shooting to your waiting pussy. You start by moving the building arousal from your hole up to your clit, light little strokes, spreading wetness. Once you’re wet enough, you let your eyes slip closed as you use the pad of your middle finger to slowly circle your clit.

“Fuck, darlin’. She’s so wet. Doin’ so good,” he adjust himself so one of your legs is draped across his lap, eyes wholly focused on your center.

Your lips part, a pleasurable sigh passing your lips as you apply more pressure. “Joel,” you moan.

He leans down, bringing his face close to your pussy. “Lookin’ good enough to eat. Add another finger, wanna see you come.”

His warm breath hits your pussy as he speaks, your hips bucking forward as the sensation. You follow Joel’s instructions, adding your pointer finger and swirling figure eights around your swollen bundle of nerves. “Fuuuuck…oh god….Joel, please.”

“Not yet, wanna see you bury those little fingers,” his lips graze your inner thigh, rough facial hair scraping your skin. “Show me.”

You prop yourself up on an elbow for a better reach, his free hand pushing your legs open more. “Start with one, slide it all the way in.”

Your middle finger prods at your tight hole. You whimper as you slide it in. “Is she sore?” Joel asks softly.

“Mm-hmm,” you nod, slipping your finger in and out as he watches.

“Add another finger, slowly. Once she’s open for me I’ll take over. Come on, darlin’.” He kisses along your creamy thighs as your tease yourself with the second finger, pushing them in slowly.

“Hnnnngh, Joel. I need you.” You say in a shaky whine. Your sore pussy stretching in a mix of pleasure and pain. His two fingers are about three of yours, you’re not sure if you’ll be able to take it.

“Doin’ so good. Look so beautiful like this, fuckin’ yourself like I ask. Such a good girl.” He brings his two fingers towards your lips. “Suck, get ‘em nice and wet.”

You lick your lips and then suck his fingers deep into your mouth, fighting against your gag reflex, your two fingers stilling inside of you. “Keep fucking yourself. Don’t stop, sweetheart.”

You moan around his fingers, bobbing your head up and down until your saliva is dripping off of them. “Lay back,” he says, pulling them from your mouth. Your fingers slide out from your pussy, slick coating them as you slide them up to your sensitive clit.

You fall back into the plush pillows, a luxury in this post apocalyptic world. Joel doesn’t take his time, sliding his thick fingers in, stretching into your wet heat. “Keep rubbin’ that little clit,” he whispers, before blowing cool air on your pussy and curling his fingers forward.

And that’s what does it. The pressure behind your clit breaks, waves of pleasure washing over you. You cry out, saying Joel’s name over and over again.

“That’s it. So fuckin good for me. Let go for me,” his lips kiss your thighs, the outer lips of your pussy, above your mound. He’s everywhere and somehow no where all at once, and you never want it to stop. “So beautiful. This pussy. Fuck baby.”

You finally start to come down, and he slips his fingers out, cleaning them off with his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. Your legs shake uncontrollably, his large hands coming to massage where they meet your pelvis.

“Good girl,” he says, placing a light kiss on your clit. “Such a good listener.”

[disasterofastory]

Hi! Do you do requests? If no you can ignore this! If yes,

I was thinking, since I’ve seen you write for Joel miller also, the reader gets into some sort of romantic relationship with Joel. They have some intimate time but she panics and they have to stop, which confuses Joel but it turns out the reader has been s*xually assaulted in the past, which was traumatic for her. The reader thinks Joel will leave her now bc a) she’s a fair amount of heads younger, and b) she panicked when they were intimate. Besides that Joel is not so good at talking about his feelings and stuff. Although he isn’t good at it, he surprises the reader by being sweet and staying with her?

I hope you don’t mind me asking anonymously, I’ve been through something similar and am not comfort with it yet. Anyways, thank you so much in advance if you’d want to write about this ❤️

Breath Joel Miller x Reader Warnings: panic attack, mention of sa, hurt/comfort

Summary: You are not ready for the next step and it's fine.

A/N: I'm sorry you had to go through it. I hope you will find some comfort in my story and thank you for your request. If I wrote something wrong/hurtful or anything similar please tell me and I will correct it. I didn't write anything specific, so it can be before or after the breakout, whatever you want.

You don't notice it at first. Your mind is too busy with Joel surrounding your every sense to see the obvious signs until it's too late.

You fall too fast and too hard.

"J-Joel," you say his name. Your voice is barely louder than a whisper and not nearly enough to make him stop. He is still on top of your, kissing down your neck and the soft curve of your shoulder. His lips are gentle, but it doesn't bring you comfort anymore. Even though he keeps his weight on his arms, he still becomes too heavy to the point you can't breathe. The air gets stuck in your burning lungs with every inhale and exhale. Your palms are warm and sweaty. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt. You want to push him away, but your muscles don't obey your command.

Panic presses against your ribcage.

"Joel!" You gasp. "Please, stop!" The words feel heavy as they roll down your tongue. Your kiss-swollen lips tingle with every syllable you form. Hearing your pleas, the man on you immediately pulls away until he is at your side, watching your trembling form with a mix of frown and confusion. "What's wrong, Y/N?" He asks. He doesn't know what to do. Your whole body shakes, and sweat rolls down your temple. Your gaze is glassy and terrified. "I'm sorry," you choke out. Tears escape your eyes until you feel their salty taste on your lips. "No," he says, sitting up. "Tell me what to do." "I-I don't know," you sniff. "I don't know." "Okay, okay," he breathes out. "Can I hold your hand? Can I touch you, Y/N?" After your nod, Joel intertwines his fingers with yours. Your hold is weak on his hand. "Breath, Y/N," he says. "Close your eyes for me, sweet girl, and breath." Your eyelids fall shut on their own accord. "That's right," he praises. His voice is a soft, warm rumble in the quiet house. "And now breathe in. Keep it in. That's right. Good girl. And out. Do it again for me. Breathe in. Good. You are doin' so well, Y/N. Don't stop. And out." You follow his every word obediently until you relax. Your muscles lose their tension, and the stretching feeling in your chest slowly but surely disappears. You still shake, but you don't care. Joel makes sure your focus is on him and on him only. "You are doing so good, Y/N," he says. "Don't stop, okay? I will go and get you some water. Don't open your eyes and continue breathin', okay? I won't go far. I leave the door open so you can hear me, but don't stop breathing, okay? In and out. Good girl."

In.

And out.

In.

And out.

In.

Out.

"Good girl," Joel hums. "How are you feelin'? Can you sit up?" You move slowly and carefully as the world comes back to you. You are still on the bed. Your back is against the wooden headrest. The cover is wrinkled around your legs. Your shirt is on the floor. "Do you want your shirt?" Joel asks when he follows your gaze. "Or do you want one of mine?" "Can I get yours?" You croak. "Of course, love," he says. "But drink it first, okay?" He adds, holding out a glass of water for you. "Thank you," you gasp between two gulps. "Do you want more?" He asks after a few seconds, exchanging the empty glass for a shirt you put on immediately. The soft fabric cocoons you into his familiar, musky scent and warmth. "No," you reply. "Thank you." "Don't thank me, Y/N," he says, putting down the glass and sitting down on the edge of the bed. He is far enough, so you don't feel crowded but not enough to make you feel bad or alone. "Do you need anythin' else?" "No," you shake your head with another deep breath. You feel tired but much better than a few minutes ago. Your chest is light, and you can move your limbs again. You are fine, you remind yourself. "Can you tell me what happened?" He asks carefully, watching your every reaction. "Did I do somethin' wrong?" "No," you shake your head. "Not you." "Then? What happened?" Joel has a guess, a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he doesn't want to bring it up if you don't. Whatever you tell him or don't is your choice. "I-" your breath hitches. "Uhm- Something happened�� I-" The gears in your head creak and turn as you try to find the right words, but whenever you want to say it out loud, something stops you. The back of your eyes starts to burn, and your throat tightens. Joel moves closer, still watching your reaction. "Can I hold your hand?" Without answering, you reach out for him, holding onto his fingers. "I'm sorry." He frowns. "Why? You have nothing to be sorry for." "But-" You knew when you met the man in front of you that maybe you weren't ready for a relationship with intimacy, but you couldn't help yourself. You wanted his warm brown eyes, soft smile, and everything that came with him. "No buts," he says stubbornly, but you are stubborn too. And your fears are too big not to tell them. "But maybe you would be better with someone else," you tell him. Even the thought of Joel being with someone else breaks your heart, but you want to give him a chance. You don't want him to stay with you because he thinks you are too young and vulnerable. You want him but not his pity. Hearing your words, he scoffs, and the frown deepens between his thick brows. "I don't even want to hear about it, Y/N. Do you understand? I want you. And everything that comes with you." "Are you sure?" You ask, blinking the tears away from your eyes. Silence follows your words, but you know Joel better than misunderstand it. You know he has some trouble with words sometimes, and you don't hurry him. "Can I hold you?" He asks after a while, and when you nod, he crawls up next to you until he can curl his arm around your shoulders, and you rest your head on his chest. His scent fills your nostrils, and his heartbeat under your ear helps to keep your calm. "You have the reins, okay?" He asks after a while. "You dictate the pace. If you want to tell me somethin', I'm here, and if I do somethin' you don't like, you tell me, and I stop, okay?" "Thank you," you tell him, sliding your arm around his middle to hug him tighter. "Don't thank me, Y/N," he murmurs. His breath fans over the top of your head. "I'm here for you."

[thirstyforcharacters]

“I’ll Cut You a Deal” (Joel Miller x Reader)

Summary: You keep stealing Joel and Tess’ clients. Joel decides to do something about it.

warnings: smut!! 18+ only!!!! dom! joel miller, semi-public sex, allusions to exhibitionism, unprotected sex, spanking, oral sex (m receiving), rough sex, use of she/her pronouns (Joel calling the reader “girl”), mentions of drugs, cursing

wc: 1500

notes: Hey hey hey!! It’s time for me to do the thing where I actually post on this account! I just finished binging The Last of Us, and like everyone else, am in my Pedro Pascal era, so of course I had to write some Joel Miller smut.

Business in the QZ was booming. People flocked to you to get their fix because your prices were cheaper than most. You knew that even if you got less ration cards per translation, if you got more customers, the numbers would even out. And they did. Soon, you were one of the most popular smugglers in Boston. It got you a lot of unwanted attention. Other smugglers were pissed at you for stealing their business.

Two of them were Tess and Joel Miller.

You weren’t scared of most of the others. You could take them down with a swift slice to the throat easily enough. But those two, they scared you. You used to be friendly with them, often paired with them on the odd jobs that FEDRA made their citizens do. You managed to make small talk with Tess, and she seemed to like you. Joel barely acknowledged your presence, only responding to your small talk with one word answers or non-committal grunts, but you still found yourself wanting to work with him. Probably because there wasn’t much in the QZ that was nice to look at, other than him.

But as soon as you became their competition, they wouldn’t work by your side anymore. It made you a little sad: Tess was sort of your friend, and you would have to settle for starting at Joel from afar. Their reputation was deadly, and you took care to not run into either of them. Sure, you’d seen them around, but they couldn’t stab or shoot you in broad daylight. So you figured you were safe.

Until today.

You were in an alleyway, starting to walk back to your apartment after slipping some pills to a FEDRA agent in exchange for some ration cards. As you wound your way through the side streets, an arm reached out and tugged you into the shadows. You shrieked, but a strong hand quickly clamped over your mouth.

“Shut up.”

You froze. You’d know that Texan accent anywhere.

You wrenched his hand off of you, standing in front of him with your knife outstretched, “What the fuck are you doing, Miller?”

“You keep stealing my clients,” he growled.

You smirked, quirking up an eyebrow, “Maybe you should offer better prices then.”

He grit his teeth, eyebrows furrowing in malice as he grabbed his own knife, “You’re a fucking problem.”

“I think this is the most words you’ve ever spoken to me,” you teased, enjoying the way his jaw clenched, “I’m honored.”

“Shut. Up.” he repeated.

You were locked in a stalemate, wondering who would make the first move.

It was him. He lunged toward you, and instinctively you slashed your knife at him, thinking he was going to attack you. But instead, he grabbed your wrist, holding you in place. He was ridiculously strong, and it was making you weak in the knees, though you tried not to show it.

“Let me go,” you hissed, trying to use your free hand to peel him off of you.

But Joel was stronger, grabbing your other wrist and holding both of them in one of his meaty hands. The other hand dropped his knife, pushing you until your back hit the wall of an apartment building. He towered over you, pinning your body to the brick as he used his free hand to wrestle your knife out of your grip.

“I said, let me go.”

But your voice was weaker, wavering with the wave of arousal that washed over you with Joel’s strong body pinning yours.

“I don’t think you really mean that, girl,” he mutters before smashing his lips against yours.

You squeaked in surprise before responding in kind, kissing him like you wanted to steal the breath from his very lungs. The hand gripping your wrists moved them upwards, pinning them above your head as Joel continued to kiss you harshly. Your mind was already spinning, and he was just kissing you.

Joel pulled away from you and released your wrists, “Turn around.”

Even though you wanted to submit to Joel, you didn’t want him to know that. You were one of the strongest smugglers in the business, and despite wanting to get on your knees for him the first time you saw him, you refused to look weak. So, you shook your head stubbornly, standing your ground.

He glared at you, “Not gonna ask again. Turn. Around.”

“Make me.”

He clenched his jaw again, grabbing you roughly and spinning you around, pressing your front against the cold brick. You gasped softly at his show of strength, feeling warmth growing between your thighs.

“Such a fuckin brat,” Joel muttered, and you heard his belt buckle clink, “gonna have to fuck that out of you.”

You whimpered softly, the stubbornness suddenly fading away as your arousal grew. You needed Joel to take you.

“Take off your pants.”

This time, you listened, unbuttoning your jeans and dragging down the zipper. Joel groaned audibly when you shoved them down your ankles along with your panties, exposing your ass to him.

“Such a sexy fuckin ass,” he slapped each of your cheeks harshly, making you squeal.

“J-joel, please,” you gasped as he ran his fingers teasingly through your wet folds.

You could feel him smirk behind you, “So fuckin wet. Who’s it for?”

“Y-you, Joel. For you.”

“Damn right it is,” he growled before stuffing his length into your pussy.

You cried out in pain and pleasure. You had always imagined he was big, and even though you hadn’t seen his cock, you could certainly feel that you were correct. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, setting a punishing pace right from the get-go. You moaned his name again, and he slapped his hand over your mouth.

“I told you to shut up. Someone’s gonna catch us if you keep bein so damned loud.”

You couldn’t cover up the way you whimpered into his hand at the thought.

He chuckled darkly, “Oh, so you’d like that? Fuckin slut.”

His other hand grabbed your hip, keeping you as steady as possible underneath his powerful thrusts. Your mind was fuzzy, moaning Joel’s name into his hand. Even though it was muffled, he could hear you clearly.

“Love hearin you moan my name, girl,” he groaned, “thought about this for so long. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve come with your name on my lips.”

You sobbed at that, your own nights spent rubbing your clit with Joel’s face swimming in your mind coming to your memory.

“You though of me like that before, girl?”

You nodded and you felt him smirk behind you, “Yeah? Wanted this old man to pound your perfect pussy?”

You nodded again, whining a muffled “please” into his hand.

“What you beggin for, slut? Need to come for me?”

You couldn’t answer. His cock pistoning in and out of you took every word out of your mouth.

Joel chuckled again, “It’s okay. I know what you need. Pussy’s squeezin me so fuckin tight, know you need to come. Need you to hold your hand over your mouth now.”

You did as he said, clamping your hand over your mouth as soon as his left it. His thick fingers approached your cunt, and Joel rubbed your clit with a single stroke. That was all it took to have you sobbing, your orgasm crashing over you in waves that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

He pulled out of you, “Get on your knees, girl. Can’t cum in that cunt so I will in that pretty little mouth.”

You listened, your knees scratching the hard ground as you opened your mouth for him. Now you got your first look at his cock, and your mouth watered. It was fucking huge. Joel gave his cock a few teasing strokes, relishing in your desperation.

“Please, Joel,” you begged, “need your cock.”

He smirked, “Then take it.”

He stuffed his cock between your lips, and you whined, eyes falling shut as his length filled your throat and you tasted yourself on him.

Joel reached down and harshly gripped your chin, “Open your eyes while I cum in your pretty mouth.”

You wrenched your eyes open, tears pricking your vision as he roughly used your mouth for his pleasure.

“Shit, baby, gonna cum.”

That was all the warning you got before he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed every drop, moaning at the salty taste hitting your tongue. You opened your mouth for him when he pulled out, showing that you swallowed every drop. Joel pulled you to your feet and kissed you once more, this one a bit less animalistic, but still not what you’d call sweet.

He pulled away and said, “I’ll cut you a deal. You join up with me and Tess instead of stealing our clients, and I’ll fuck you like that as often as you’d like.”

You didn’t need any time to think about that one, “Deal.”

[mermaidxatxheart]

Ribbed*

You guys, I am feral for this man. And you can thank @musings-of-a-rose for this story.

Pairing: Benny Miller x Reader

Word Count: 2117

Warnings: smut. unprotected sex. Garrett Hedlund, who needs a warning all on his own.

Master List

The paper fan swings back and forth in your hand lazily. It doesn’t do much to dispel the stifling heat in your apartment, or the heat radiating from your body. But mentally, you have to be doing something. Stop drinking would probably help, but why would you do something stupid like that?

Benny Miller, your brother’s best friend is propped next to you on your couch, working on his 8th jack and coke. You have him beat by about three and a half drinks.

The air conditioning is currently out in your apartment, going on the second week. You’ve put in several requests, but they’ve all gone unanswered. So, you asked your brother’s best friend to try and figure it out. But it stumped him, so the both of you resorted to drinking. Why? Dunno, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. You drag an ice cube across your chest, not caring how the quickly melting liquid seeps into your thread-bare tank top. 

Benny lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face and your eyes catch on his abdomen. Muscles on muscles. He’s so ripped, even his sides have washboard abs. Okay, maybe you’re drunk, but god damn, you can’t help but stare. Beautiful mother fucker. You’d love to smack the good looks right off his fucking face. 

You don’t quite manage to smother the laugh that escapes and he looks at you.

“What?” He asks, his own lips twitching up into a grin, even though he doesn’t know why. 

“Benny, what the fuck?” You gesture and he looks down at himself. 

“What?” He repeats. He drops his shirt and picks his hat up off his head. He scratches his fingers through his soft hair before tucking the hat back securely backwards on his head once more. The move entrances you, turning you on for some unknown reason. Mysterious kink. Why is the hat a thing?

“Nothing.” You mumble, downing a big gulp of your drink. You’re gonna need a refill in a moment. 

“Didn’t seem like nothing.” He challenges. 

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t wanna say it.” You shake your head, the fan fanning a little faster now as if you can wave the words out of your brain. But they repeat on a loop and you know if he pushes you, you’ll come right out and say it. And that would be embarrassing. 

He grabs your wrist, stopping the fan and making you look at him. His eyebrows arch up in the middle end, giving him the softest puppy dog look and you’re melting. “Tell me?” He says, and you know it’s a fucking ploy. You’ve seen that look on him when he’s flirting with girls at the bars, but you never once thought it would work on you. Lord, were you wrong. 

“Fuck.” You exhale roughly. “Fine. I was just thinking that you’re ribbed for her pleasure.” You rush and he stares at you for a long minute. 

He sits back and you think maybe he’s gonna leave, or make fun of you. Either option isn’t ideal. What you don’t expect is him to sit forward and peel off his sweaty shirt, revealing his taut, rippling muscles in all their glory. “Okay.” He says, adjusting himself on the couch and you’re staring at him. 

“What?”

“Ribbed for your pleasure.” He says, patting his abs. “Come on.” The thin gold chain around his neck glints in the dim light, distracting you for just a second. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“You’re the one who said it, sweetheart. You think about riding me a lot?”

“That’s not-“ you stammer.

“Not what?” He prompts. 

“The point.” You finish lamely and his grin widens. 

“You afraid?” He challenges. You shake your head. “I won’t let you fall. Come on.” He repeats. “I know you’re going through a dry spell. I am, too.” 

Fuck. Are you really going to do this? Could you even orgasm from doing something like this? Thigh riding has never really been your thing. But maybe… 

You stand up from the couch and he grins. 

“That’s my girl.” He says proudly and your knees get weak. You’re such a slut for praise and he seems to know it. You move to straddle his abs but he stops you by holding up one of his long fingers. “These need to come off, baby.” He says, slipping said finger up the closest leg of your cotton shorts. 

Your heart is hammering in your chest as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and sliding them down your thighs slowly. He watches like a hawk and you feel the temperature in the room rising quickly. 

“Pretty girl.” He praises softly and you’re steadily getting slick between your thighs. He takes your hands and guides you closer. “Knee here.” He cups the back of your knee and you jerk, not realizing how much it tickles. He grins. 

“Sorry.” You mumble but he just shakes his head. 

“Tickle spot noted.” He guides your knees, without touching them, to either side of his waist. You can feel him under you, all solid and warm. 

Fuck. 

He guides your hands to his broad shoulders, letting you lean forward over him. “Use me.” He says softly. “Let me be your leverage.” His big hands slide down your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and you rock forward slowly, cautiously. He hums approvingly and you squeeze your eyes shut against the sight of him under you. Your brother’s best friend, the guy who’s supposed to be off limits. 

His hands blaze a burning trail up your thighs, over your hips, under the back of your shirt where he unclasps your bra with practiced ease. You feel the release of your breasts and it triggers something primal in you. You rock a little more purposefully now. He pulls the bra straps off your shoulders, freeing it from under your shirt. He presses the lacy fabric to his nose for a second and hums before tossing it over the back of your couch. His blue eyes stay trained on your face as he pulls on your hair tie, freeing your hair so it spills down around your shoulders. 

“That’s it.” He mumbles, brushing some back behind your ear. “So fucking pretty.” His thumb strokes along the corner of your mouth and your lips separate, breathing heavily. He slips his thumb inside and you wrap your lips around it, sucking and rubbing it with your tongue, lost in delirium as you grind on his stomach. His free hand, that isn’t in your mouth, slides up the front of your shirt, cupping your breast. He brushes over your sensitive nipple, teasing it into a point, drawing a desperate moan from you. 

“Oh fuck.” He exhales, watching you. He guides you forward, arching your back slightly and you hit a whole different angle on your clit. You whimper, grinding faster, chasing your pleasure. “Yeah, sweetheart. Come on.” He urges. He pulls his thumb out of your mouth and tugs your shirt over your head, tossing it with your bra. 

He guides you up higher, getting you better purchase, and also allowing him to mouth at your nipples. His hands squeeze your hips,your ass, urging you faster. The friction is just right, his hot mouth and tongue are perfect on your nipples and you’re about to cum. Your rhythm falters and your body locks up as an orgasm floods your system. You gasp out his name, unable to move as it grips you. 

He kisses up your chest, sliding you down to his thighs and supporting you. “Look what a mess you’ve made. So pretty when you cum.” He praises, touching the slick covering his abs. “Such a good fucking girl.” He licks it off his fingers, watching you. 

You hold his gaze for a second before pulling his hand away and kissing him deeply. Tongue and teeth and lips clashing as you knock his hat off his head. Your fingers curl into his silky hair, pulling on it as you kiss him with a fierce desperation. He moans, rocking his hips up against yours. 

In one swift motion, he stands up and flips you over onto your back on the couch. “Later, I’m gonna eat you until you can’t fucking stand. But right now, I’m so goddamn hard it hurts.” He mutters, shoving down his jeans. His cock is rising up to meet you and you reach for it, mesmerized by the thick vein spiraling up to the tip. He grabs your hand, stopping you. He strokes it once and kneels between your thighs. 

He pauses, the crown resting at your entrance. “Can I?” He asks softly and you nod, banding your legs around his hips. 

“I’m gonna cry if you don’t.” You promise. He pushes toward and your head falls back as he enters you. The stretch. Oh fuck, oh fuck. 

You whimper, holding onto his straining biceps. He’s struggling to go slow so he doesn’t hurt you, you can tell that much. His arms are shaking, his eyes are slightly unfocused on your face. His hair, no longer trapped by his old ball cap, is hanging in his pretty face. The gold chain is hanging down, swinging gently as he slides in slowly. 

“Trying not to-“ he mutters and you roll your hips, begging him to fill you. 

“Gimme.” You plead, brushing his hair back. “Gimme. I can take it.” You promise. 

He hesitates for a long second before thrusting in completely. You arch off the couch, mouth falling open as you cum instantly around him. Fuck, he feels so amazing inside you, so thick, so full, so deep. A throaty whine escapes you but that’s nothing compared to the feral growl he releases. Your fluttering walls are clinging to his every inch, stroking and kissing along his shaft. 

“Baby,” he groans, shifting his arms. You wrap your thighs around him, urging him on. He pulls out and thrusts back in, picking up speed and depth as he pounds into you. Your name is a ghost on his pretty lips as he falls into you. He drops to his elbows, nearly all his weight on you now. 

“Benny,” you moan in his ear and he fucks you faster. You roll your hips, pulling on his shaft and grinding him against your clit. Whimpers fall from your lips as you wind your arms around his broad shoulders. “Harder.” You beg and he looks down at you, his pupils blown wide, needy. His hand grips your thigh, holding you in place as he starts to rut inside you, his thrusts becoming shorter and harder as he reaches deeper into your velvety tightness. 

“So good.” He moans in your ear. “So fucking good, baby.” He praises, burying his face in your neck. The chain drapes against your throat, cool in the humidity of the room. You flex your wall around him, urging him deeper. 

Your third orgasm is fast approaching, it’s going to hit you like a wall, you can feel it. He’s fucking you so good. He bites along your neck, finding the perfect spot and you practically levitate into his chest as you cum again. You’re so fucking wet it’s dripping down your ass. Your body locks up around his as you cum, vision dimming, legs shaking, whimpers and gasps escaping. 

“Oh fuck, baby girl. That’s it. Cum on my cock.” He praises, pressing you tight into the couch. “Gripping me so good.” He moans, fucking into you faster. “Gimme one more. I’m so close. Want you to cum again.” He pleads. “Wanna feel you cum on me again.” He kisses up your neck, making his way to your lips as he pounds you stupid into your couch. 

Your whimpers are growing in volume, you’re so sensitive now, so close. He never really gave you a chance to come down. He kisses you desperately, messily. Your nails dig into his back and he growls possessively. 

“Please, please.” He whispers and you lift your hips to meet his thrusts. “Where? Baby, where can I cum?” He rushes, his breath skating across your cheek.

“I-inside.” You mumble. 

He reaches between your bodies and strums your clit rapidly. You cry out, cumming once more and gripping his shaft so tightly he can barely move. He thrusts in deep and unleashes a torrent of cum, burying his face in your neck. You can feel him sucking a mark, but you’re too fucked out to care. He finishes pumping inside you, rocking slightly before stilling. He looks down at you softly, brushing your hair back. He kisses you softly, his lips tender against yours now. 

Now what?

@everythingisoverrated @musings-of-a-rose

[sweetlummie]

Weirdo

Mood board made by my lovely love @iamasaddie tysm 💗💗

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Creep!Joel Miller x plus size!fem!reader

!!! 18+ content. If you’re a minor go away !!!

A/n: Well- I didn’t think I’d make a part 2 to Creep but here we are 😭 this is my first time writing smut so I’m sorry if it’s not that good! Also not proofread so any and all mistakes are mine! As always constructive criticism is welcome! Enjoy! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! 🫶🫶💗💗

Warnings: virginity loss, degradation, pussy slapping, unprotected PiV, slight mentions of impregnation, lmk if I missed any!

W/c: 1.3k

Creep (pt. 1) The Hell am I Doing Here? (pt.3)

* ・‥…━━━━━━━ *˖◛⁺♡ ━━━━━━━…‥・

You’d entered Joel’s room behind him, your stomach rumbling from the nerves. You’ve never been with anyone before- what if you disappoint him? Surely a man as beautiful as him has had many beautiful conquests. By no means did you have low confidence, in fact you always paraded yourself with such grace and poise. You knew your worth but when faced with a man like Joel you couldn’t help but get weak in the knees.

“C’mon sweetheart. Lay down f’me.” He ordered as he nodded his head towards his bed. You did as he asked, crawling up his bed and turning to lay on your back. You felt so exposed to him. He eyed you like you were the last piece of meat in a post-apocalyptic world. “So fuckin’ gorgeous baby.” He murmured as he made his way in between your legs, spreading them open. He yanked your sleep shorts and panties in one clean swoop. “So wet. Is this all for me baby?” He asked as he looked up at you with such a mischievous and hungry gaze. You nod your head shyly. This was so unlike you. You were always so vocal but you were never in an actual sexual situation before. “Words little girl.” He spoke harshly as he brought his hand down hard. Smacking your pussy, eliciting a high pitched moan from you. “Keep it down girl. Don’t wanna wake up Sarah. Now. I’m gonna ask you again. Is this all for me?” He spoke with such authority, such conviction, you couldn’t help but moan under his grasp.

“Yes! All for you..” you managed to whimper out. “Good fucking girl. Good to know you still have that voice of yours and ain’t too cockdumb to respond.” God his degradation was to die for. Who would’ve known your dad’s best friend was such a dirty dirty man. He struck your pussy once more as you whined out, arching your back. “Tell me. Have you had anyone in here before, little girl? And don’t lie to me.” You looked into his dark eyes, he was so different from the Joel you knew from just a few hours ago. “No. Never. You’re my first.” His eyes softened as you spoke. “Right.. I’ll take it slow then.” He brought your thighs to rest on his shoulders as he leant down to eat your pussy once more. He lapped up your juices and swirled his tongue around your clit. You gasped and brought your hand to grip his head full of curls. “Fuck! Joel!” You breathed out as he laughed against your sopping wet cunt. He slowly inserted his finger, it hurt a little. His fingers were much thicker than your own. No matter how much you masturbated it wouldn’t amount to the pleasure you feel now from Joel.

As he worked his finger inside you, he continued to suck on your clit making you a babbling, whimpering mess. Eventually he was able to slip in another finger, scissoring them inside of you before he inserted a third. “Such a good fucking girl. Look at cha. Takin’ my fingers like the little pretty slut I knew you’d be.” His praise made you squeal in pleasure. This was all too much, he was all too much. As he kept going you felt the coil deep inside your stomach snap! You came and hard, your back lifted off the mattress as your thighs trembled around Joel’s head and your pussy clenched around his fingers. “Good girl.. thas it. Take what you need.” He encouraged you as you came down from your high.

You’re left panting on his bed as he lifts up off of you, you watching him as he stands up. He pulls down his sweatpants and boxers. Fuck he’s huge. He can tell you’re intimidated by his size given how wide your eyes had gotten when he whipped it out. “It’s okay baby, I’ll go slow. It’ll fit, I promise.” He cooed quietly as he got on the bed again, spreading your legs, lining his bulbous cock head at your stretched entrance. “Tell me if it’s too much okay?” He said as he placed a hand on your cheek, caressing it. “Yes sir..” you whispered as you looked into his eyes once more. This was it, you were losing your virginity to the man who’s had your heart since you met him. This was such a tender moment between the both of you. It was as if no one else mattered, no one else existed, it was just you and him, he and you. He nodded and slowly pushed in. You began to moan at the painful stretch and he smothered your whines with his mouth as he kissed you. Licking all around the inside of your mouth, your taste on his tongue distracting you from the pain. He had fully bottomed out inside you and he pulled back from the kiss with a quiet groan. “Fuck. Tell me when to move, pretty girl.” He grit out.

“Please.. move..” you whimpered as he pulled out and snapped his hips back inside you. His pace was harsh and needy. “Fuck! So tight princess! Such a perfect little cock sleeve!” He groaned as he held onto your plush hips, his grip solid. You knew there would be bruises there in the morning. You tried to moan as quietly as you could but the sensation was too much. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as Joel pounded into you with such fervor and harshness. “Fuck. ‘M not gonna last much longer baby!” He grunted as his pace began to get sloppy but still powerful enough to where it drove you to the edge before he came overstimulating you. Your body shook uncontrollably as he painted your insides with his cum.

He fell on top of you, holding you close as you both calmed down. “You were so amazing baby. Can’t wait to try other things with ya.” He whispered in your ear. You relished his warmth until the sudden realization of what you both did came crashing down on you. You shot up causing Joel to fall off you and onto the bed. “Baby? What’s wrong?” He asked concerned, sitting up, bringing his hand to rest on your back. “We- we shouldn’t have done this!” You shrugged his hand away as you quickly got off the bed and put your panties and shorts on as best you could. “Baby slow down, it’s okay-“ he tried to pacify you, defuse the situation but it was too late, you were crying, consumed with guilt. “No it’s not!! I can’t believe I did this to my best friend- I can’t believe you did this to my dad!” You almost yelled out in frustration. His cum was slowly seeping out from inside of you, collecting in your panties but at this point you could care less. In your mind there was bigger, more pressing issues than a UTI or the possibility of ending up pregnant because of his spilt seed. Joel stood up and tried to reach out for you. You backed away, looking at him like he was some sort of monster. The look in your eyes broke Joel’s heart. He had to fix this, he had to calm you down.

“Baby..” he tried once more. “No! Stop! This never happened. Don’t talk to me, don’t text me, don’t reach out. I’m going home.” You said sternly but you both knew there was no ignoring what happened between you both, no ignoring the love you felt towards each other. All Joel could do was nod his head as he watched you leave. At first Joel just wanted to fuck around with you but after tonight something else had blossomed inside his sick and twisted heart. He had to make it right, he had to have you.

* ・‥…━━━━━━━ *˖◛⁺♡ ━━━━━━━…‥・

[miller-lookforthe-lite]

steps (preview)

joel miller x f!reader

summary: Westward bound, and your steps are uncertain. Your hands shake, and it's hard to keep the food down. Joel thinks he might know why. (or, how accidents sometimes lead us to our fates.)

tags/warnings: unplanned/(unwanted?) pregnancy, thoughts and discussion of abortion, canon-typical violence, nightmares, hurt/comfort (u already know what it issss) - please heed the warnings, as these may be triggering to some! MDNI

a/n: broooo my first ever tlou fic AND first original post on this blog AND first x reader fic?! it's a big day so here's a sneak peek at steps, coming hopefully next week?!?!?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you wake up, it’s dark out, but the road outside is wider than the back winding roads you’re accustomed to. The only light comes from the truck’s headlights and the moon shining up above.

“Where are we?” You murmur, stretching out the aching muscles of your back. Ellie seems to have joined you in slumber, slumped awkwardly against the door behind you.

Joel’s hand slides over the top of the steering wheel. “Nearby Kansas City,” he offers.

You become more clearly awake at this. “The QZ? Why do you wanna head so close to it?”

He rubs the steering wheel again, drawing from it some kind of power to speak. “Figure we stash the truck somewhere, enroll at the gate as refugees. Get what we need, get out.”

“What we need?” You’re still confused.

“A doctor,” he confesses. “It’s nearby and you need a doctor. So.”

You’re at a loss. You can’t keep up with the implications, with the unspoken, terrifying truth of the question he’s asking you, he’s been asking you. You open your mouth, but the sounds are weak to your own ears. “But — it’ll take too — Wyoming, we have to — and Ellie — and Tommy —”

“We’ll get to Wyoming,” he promises. “First we check on you.”

Something bubbles up in your chest and you shift in your seat, too afraid to ask but too afraid to not know. “Are you angry?” You venture, keeping your eyes on what little of the road you can see in front of you.

You can see him puff air through his lips from the corner of your vision. “I do generally like to know about things before they became an immediate issue, so next time —”

“No,” You say too quickly, and he stops, looking over at you. “I mean, were you mad about - you know, if I am” — you choke on your own spit, can’t bring yourself to say the word - “If I am, are you angry with me?”

Your voice sounds too small to your own ears, this isn’t the You you know, but you don't remember how to be that girl anyways, don't remember how to survive without him. If he’s not with you, and if what he thinks is happening is happening, this could be it for you, this could be his final straw, too much baggage, not giving enough, not —

“You, what? Listen, no, I don’t -” He takes his foot off the gas. The truck slowly but surely rolls to a stop, so starkly contrasting the stop it made in the earlier hours of the day. He shifts the car to park, not even bothering to pull off the road like he usually does when you stop for the night. You can feel him looking at you but you can’t bring yourself to look back.

“I’m afraid,” he confesses to you like he worries the night sky will hear his secret. “I’m afraid and I’m sorry that I made you think I was angry. I’m not angry. You ain’t done nothin’ wrong. You understand? Nothin’."

You don't realize you’ve begun to cry until his arms are reaching over the center console to pull you into his lap. A mess of limbs and you find yourself between his solid frame and the steering wheel, his arms holding you like they do when you sleep, but this feels different, this feels tighter, this feels dangerously close to touching the reason you shake, the reason you burrow yourself into him at night.

“We’ll be alright,” he promises so fiercely it startles your eyes dry. “You’ll be alright. I promise.”

[soft-persephone]

Helpful not so Helpful Guide to Jake Johnson

A master post with links to some movies and information or where to access some of them +more

Disclaimer: if any of these movies are bad or you hate them, that’s on you and not me. I am heavily biased. You have been warned.

SELF RELIANCE

let’s start with the obvious. It’s out now on Hulu! Has been since February maybe idk. I’m unhealthily obsessed and bad with dates.

It’s his directorial debut, but if you didn’t know. Jake started out as a writer before improv and acting. He’s the writer, director, and star of this one. It’s very special and his baby!

It’s a wild roller coaster ride of emotions and genre. If you smoke, smoke, if you drink, drink, if you are sober, it’s still a roller coaster ride. Don’t worry, there is a lot there for you too!

But if you like enhancements, I hear it’s extra fun.

I liked it a lot, it’s whacky, creepy at times, but undeniably fun. And that’s all I will say.

Warning! Don’t watch press or any interviews for the movie until after you’ve seen the movie.

Ride the Eagle

is also on Hulu

It’s a movie he wrote during the pandemic and directed with Trent O’Donnell who directed many episodes of new girl.

It’s very heartfelt and about Grief.

Jake Johnson’s dog also makes guest appearance with their acting debut and they are the sweetest and most bestest acting dog ever.

WE’RE HERE TO HELP

his podcast!

It’s very fun and with one of his buddies Gareth Reynolds.

People call in and they give them advice that is as funny and crazy as the callers.

Something’s Burning

Here’s a link to a interview on the premise of the show, but also they talk to this guy. idk. He may be a bit much, but he makes Jake laugh and I love listening to him laugh, so it’s fun for that reason too.

Or you are a Burt fan.

🏴‍☠️Pirate ship access only 🏴‍☠️

Link to the ship

The Pretty One -

one of my favorites. It’s an oddball indie about twins where one dies and the one alive assumes the identity of the one who died where she stumbles upon her sister neighbor played by Jake Johnson. He’s dressed like a sexy Mr. Rogers if you ask me, and he is delightfully sardonic and childish. However, he dresses better than Nick Miller ever could

Win it All

It used to be on Netflix, but it’s been taken down recently. That’s my bad because I could have made this sooner, but I just haven’t for no reason.

Jake plays a character with a gambling addiction and an anxiety inducing as the first part may be, it’s not that bad. When I first saw it I had to turn it off because I just got too anxious over what might happen next, but you might not have a weak stomach like me, so you might be fine.

On the second time around, I made it to the part where he meets this girl and everything quickly became heartwarming and endearing and it makes you just root for the main character.

A love letter for those in our lives who may not be fortunate to put themselves together as well as we might.

TAG

It’s also available the link above, but it could be streaming for free somewhere. Idk.

this movie is very self-explanatory by the name. It’s very fun, Jeremy Reiner is in it, so that’s either good news or bad news for you. But it’s still fun.

Jake looks very good in this one. He still has his Tom cruise work out body.

I am very embarrassed to say I can tell what year every movie has come out based on his body shape which is lovely at every size, but the accuracy is quite scary. Which is information I didn’t need to share at all

Stumptown

I used to keep that thang on me.

And by thang on me, I mean a pirate ship link to see this show. But they are for some reason gone. I’ve searched high and low for ones to access on maybe a phone? But unless you have a fire stick that has some certain pirate ship accessories on there, I don’t know where you can watch it.

But it’s such an amazing serialized show about this woman who comes back home from Iraq with ptsd, the love of her life died over there and his family blames her for it and she also blames herself for it.

She becomes a private investigator and her best friend is Gray McConnell played by Jake Johnson who, surprise suprise, owns a bar.

Imagine a cooler, sexier, smarter, and more put together Nick Miller. He is just as funny and sarcastic, but not a manchild.

But the show has amazing bisexual representation, mental health representation of ptsd, complex female characters, and it’s so well paced and written and every way.

If you love cop shows like criminal minds or fbi or any of those, imagine something like that but about a private investigator, and more emphasis on the plot and characters and their relationships. The “cop” part is just more fun on this show than others, but I am biased because I hate cop shows.

I wish I had a link to give y’all for it because it’s so easily to obsess over.

However, it’s also been canceled because of “COVID” but if you look into it. That’s a bullshit reason, and it’s been canceled for no reason, but at that point Jake Johnson was doing spiderverse and Colbie Smolders was doing other stuff. (She plays the main female character)

MINX

Show set in the 70s about a woman starting the first male nude magazine to persue her dream of making a feminist one.

It’s smart, the writing is amazing, and I can not recommend it enough. There’s a lot of nudity, but it’s not what you think at all.

You truly have to watch it for yourself to understand what the show is trying to do, and it’s amazing.

I’ve never seen anything like it and it’s such a breath of fresh air in a time of remakes and endless sequels.

It used to be on HBO but now it’s on Starz!

Here’s a link to see it. Shhhh. Don’t tell anyone

But for some reason it only has season two which sucks so hard and I am so sorry I couldn’t provide more.

Drinking Buddies

- it used to be available on YouTube but now it’s not free anymore or the person who posted has since deleted it been removed. But the pirate ship one will have it for sure.

Have you ever met someone and you never dated them, never had a something more conversation but the chemistry is there.

You were super close to them, but no one has ever questioned it or said anything about it, but when you are with them you know it’s there? But that’s all it ever has been and will be, and maybe you aren’t even in each others lives anymore but you still think of them from time to time because they were a major part of you being who you are?

Yes? Well boy do I have a movie for you!

No? Well that’s what this movie is, but it adds more because it’s a movie and it needed to be at least an hour and a half.

But now that you know what it’s about, be warned that it’s slower in pace. It’s an indie movie.

I will have more to say about that later.

But overall it’s a good movie with a good feeling.

If you’ve ever had a will they won’t they in a real life way and not the Hollywood way, this movie might trigger those feelings.

Digging for Fire

- it used to be available on YouTube but now it’s not free anymore or the person who posted has since deleted it been removed. But the pirate ship one will have it for sure.

A cute heartwarming thriller.

Those genres don’t seem like they could all blend together, but that’s what this movie does.

A family rents out a house in LA and the husband, played by Mr Jake Johnson, finds a gun and a bone, and they call the police and they say we’re not responsible for random trash. Call us if you find a body.

This is a real story that happened to Jake Johnson and his family.

He called up his friend Joe Swamburg who is a director, and they make this movie together.

He’s also the director of drinking buddies and Win it All.

It’s not only about that, again, because it needs to be over an hour. So it’s also about marriage. Not say anything else because you need something to keep you wanting to see this one, but I will say, it’s not a pretentious or dark or super try hard movie about marriage that will depress you.

It’s open and honest and ultimately sweet.

Imagine if scenes from a marriage wasn’t a drag or if a marriage story was positive instead of weird.

Idk I never actually watched a marriage story. It might not even be called that at all and you may be confused so… moving on.

No Activity

A show he was in for three episodes but it has a hilarious premise and if you are a fan of comedy, you might enjoy it having Will Farrell, Jason Mantzoukas and so much more.

Here a clip

Apparently there a ten photo limit.. so no picture

I use to have a link to it, but it’s also been erased from everywhere, unless you have access to other pirate ships.

:(

Interviews

Link

Here is a playlist of amazing interviews that give you a head start on getting to know him. They aren’t in any important order, and they also have a few about each movie and show he’s in as well.

Also if you need accessing a vpn please reach out. I know a good free vpn app for iOS.

PART TWO!!!!

[bluebeary-jay]

hiii ves! congrats on 1000! 💗

how about a joel miller fluffy piece with

how is it you always know what i need, huh? for the prompt? 🫶🏽

Hiiiii my lovely Mari!!! 🥰💗 Thank you so so much for your words but thank you even more for being a ray of sunshine in my life 🥺🫶 istg i wanna give you a thousand kisses

Aaaand here you go! I spent much more time on this lil fic than I should but I really like how it turned out and I hope you will too!! Thank you LOTS for requesting, love you!! 💕

You haven’t been feeling well since the morning.

Joel knew it must’ve been because of the rain which caught the two of you during the patrol the day before, leaving you completely drenched despite his efforts. How was it possible that he gave you his jacket and you still catched a cold while he didn’t even have a runny nose, was a mystery to him. But it didn’t really matter since here you were, unwell and not even able to leave the bed.

Good thing Joel knew how to take care of his girl.

He passed by Tommy’s early in the morning to pick up some medicine for you and went to the market to buy that citrus tea he knew you liked. When he got back you were still asleep but woke up several hours later with a headache and a runny nose. Joel stayed with you, catering to your every need and only leaving to prepare you breakfast. A sweet little thing you were, you didn’t want to let him do everything by himself, but he managed to convince you it’s no problem at all.

You were so difficult sometimes, though.

“There you go, babygirl,” he crooned, helping you sit up and propping up the pillow for you some time after you finished eating. “Easy now. Don’t rush yourself.”

“Joel, I’m fine,” you rasped with a sore throat, but he sent you a doubtful look and you groaned in defeat. “Okay, that was a lie. I feel terrible. But it’s not a reason for you to baby me.”

“M’not babyin’ you.” It was your turn to lift your eyebrows at him, unconvinced, and the corner of his lips twitched in a soft smile before he leaned in and planted a lingering kiss on your warm forehead. “‘Kay, maybe I am. But ya like it.”

“You wish.”

“And you don’t give me many chances to really coddle you,” he continued in a murmur, slowly brushing the hair away from your face. You closed your eyes and let out a weak moan, and Joel smiled with compassion. “So honestly, you can look at it as a favor t’me. Can you do that, babygirl? Let me take care of you and make me happy?”

“Always the caretaker,” you laughed breathlessly and peered up at him through your eyelashes. Even though your nose was red, your eyes swollen and your complexion had that sick look to it, you still were the most beautiful sight Joel has ever beheld. “You don’t need to stay with me, though. I can manage by myself.”

“I know. But I want to.”

“Stubborn man.”

Joel opened his mouth to tease you back, but then he saw you shivering and furrowed his brow.

“Are you cold?” he asked, though he was already sure that was the case. You nodded.

“A little. Can you grab me…”

“...that blanket with little ducks on it?” he finished for you, causing you to giggle and gaze at him with affection. “I know ya like it ‘cause it’s the fluffiest.”

“The softest,” you said at exactly the same time. “Yeah.”

Your eyes were filled with so much love that Joel felt weak in his knees. He tore his eyes away from you and turned around to the closet to grab your blanket from the highest shelf. You shifted to one side of the bed, probably so that Joel could lie down by your side, but before he did that he tucked you in carefully, making sure you were warm and comfortable. Then he dashed to the kitchen, bringing back a glass of water and another pill for you to take.

Only then he laid down behind you, enfolding your cocooned form and pulling you closer to his chest. You closed your eyes with a blissful smile and sighed deeply.

“Don’t even say anythin’ about infectin’ me with it,” Joel murmured, knowing that you’re probably already worrying about him in that pretty little head of yours. He wrapped his arms tighter around you through the many blankets. “I’ll be fine. And you’re still cold.”

“Wasn’t gonna say anythin’,” you answered softly with your eyes still closed. “Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“How is it you always know what I need, huh?”

He chuckled and adjusted the duvet by your neck, making sure that no cold air could sneak its way under the covers.

“My psychic abilities,” he whispered in response and his smile grew when he felt your torso shake with laughter under his arm. Joel kissed the back of your head and then went lower to press his lips to your neck, causing you to squirm slightly. “But truthfully, it’s ‘cause I love ya so much.”

You snorted. “Such a romantic.”

“S’true.”

“Well, I love you more.” He hummed in a ‘you don’t know what you’re talking about’ fashion, and you groaned in weariness. Joel felt your body relaxing in his hold. “You’re so warm, baby. And so good to me.”

“Anythin’ for you, love.” He wanted to kiss your head once more but suddenly you started to wiggle, forcing him to move back a little to give you room to maneuver. “What’re doin’ now?”

“Shh.” You made a couple more adorable grunts before you finally stopped, now facing Joel and beaming proudly. “Ta-da!”

“You’re silly.” Joel shook his head, but internally he was spellbound by the significance of your action. You wanted to be face to face with him and he was glad for the opportunity to kiss your forehead now. “My sweet babygirl. You should rest, not wiggle ‘round.”

“Tsk!” you silenced him again and kicked his leg, though because of how many covers you were under, it felt more like a gentle nudge. “Gimme your leg.”

“Give ya it where?” he asked in response with a faint smile, and you huffed impatiently, your head hitting the pillow again when you grew tired of keeping it up in the air.

“Throw it over me. Please?” you added when he initially didn’t move. Joel indulged you, though not without hesitation.

“You sure? I don’t wanna crush you…”

“You won’t.” You assured him and snuggled your face into his chest, causing butterflies to flutter around in Joel’s belly. “I like feelin’ your weight on me.”

“Like an extra blanket?” he joked, to which you snorted as well.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

“Better than the one with ducks?”

“The best one.”

He smiled with adoration and pulled you in closer, caging you in his arms. You didn’t seem to mind, though, and freed your hand from the blankets to wrap one arm around his stomach, keeping the other one between your chests. The heat from under the duvet instantly started to become too much for Joel, but he tried to disregard the uncomfortable feeling for now.

“Stay for a while, darling,” you asked suddenly, your voice muffled from the way you had your cheek pressed against his chest. Joel looked down and saw your eyes closed and a serene smile on your face, the sight of which made him swoon. “I feel so warm like this with you. And safe.”

“You are,” Joel assured you softly and put his palm on the back of your head. “I’ll keep ya safe, sweetheart, I promise. You can sleep soundly.”

You sniffed and whined weakly. “M’not sleepy. Let’s just stay like that.”

“You need to get your strength back.” Joel moved his head to kiss your hot forehead again and smiled faintly against your skin. You opened your mouth to retort, but he cut you off before you could even start. “And no buts. You said it yourself, after all…”

You grumbled quietly, but Joel could see you were tired, your eyes already closing again. He took a deep breath, not caring about the risk of catching the cold from you and followed suit, deciding to stay with you for a nap as well.

“I always know what my baby needs.”

[beefros-sin-bin]

Goodbye 2023!

Thank you to everyone who sent in submissions - I have so much reading to catch up on now! 🥩💜🥩

If you have more fics to recommend for the SinBin, keep sending them my way.

I was originally going to break everything by category into the various P-boys, but the majority are one specific character. So we have two categories:

Joel Miller Fics

Other P-boy Fics.

I've included the comments (if there was one) for each fic submitted, but kept the submitter anonymous.

Beefro & the SinBin 🚮🥩💜

Joel Miller Fics (in no specific order)

Left in Lincoln - @toxicanonymity

Left in Lincoln. It's no secret my love for this series, and for my favorite Joelkémon, but this story is one I love not only for the slow burn sexiness but the horror elements in general. The balance of fear and horror with the soft, beautiful descriptions of the characters and setting make it one I return to over and over. The musical references and influence on the story is just the icing on the cake 🖤 Or ice cream on the pie, in this case 🍑🌸 Ty for the beautiful stories Toxy, and community to obsess over our mutual obsessions 🥰🖤

Scarecrow & Fear Thy Neighbor by @xdaddysprincessxx

So my first rec is @xdaddysprincessxx and her Farmer Joel series 🚜 All of her work is amazing but this one is so fun and soooo hot! (Heed the warnings though if you choose to read) I'm biased because I got to hear about her writing process and contribute some of my own thots 🤭 But it's not only sexy af (just like her!) but scary too!!! Be sure to read the sequel too 😉 She's not only a talented writer but a wonderful human in general 🖤

Help I’m Stuck! By @nosesitter

Reader gets “stuck” in the dryer. Luckily her father in law Joel just so happens to find her and helps 😉 her. When I read this I finally got the whole “oh no I’m stuck!” sex scenario lmao I always found it kinda funny bc in porn they’d be stuck in ridiculous spots but this fic? Fucking hot as hell. I get it now 🤷🏻‍♀️

I can be your pretty girl by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Okay so I’m almost positive she is tired of me recc’ing & talking about this series lol it’s the hottest fucking fic ever. I genuinely am obsessed. It has everything. She deserves a Nobel peace prize for this idc idc.

A Secret Worth Keeping by @multiversed-daydreamer

Vamp Joel. I repeat Vamp. Joel. 🥵 and his vampirism is a secret and readers blood is his krptonite and she has to keep what they do hush hush. It’s so goddamn delicious 🤤

Fall into Temptation by @joelsgreys

Whew okay where do I start? Reader is the pastors daughter. Joel is Joel. 😏 they end up falling for each other and having a beautiful love affair. That has to be a secret bc her father would forbid it! Duh! It’s spicy, they have to sneak around to meet up with each other (again I am paraphrasing ish I don’t wanna spoil lol) and the religious tones in it? My baby is feeding me. This heals my religious trauma. Feeds my daddy issues and desire to fuck this old man.

Deliver Me From Nowhere by @atinylittlepain

It is beautifully written, touching a delicate topic with such care, it is truly an amazing work.

Just This Once by @talaok

Okay hear me out: this one brings the angst. The emotion. I felt so bad for reader, bby girl just wanted love. It tore me up inside. I had tears.

Self Indulgent Tendencies by @strang3lov3

So this was actually the first fic of Bugs I ever read. And. I. LOVED. IT. I’m trying not to spoil anything but long story short; Joel catches reader and fucks her to teach her a lesson. (I am extremely paraphrasing this lol) it still lives in my damn brain 🥵

Meet Me in the Back by @atticrissfinch

Sleazy gas station Joel. That’s it. That’s all. He is so sleazy and ugh I need his dick. And so does reader after she gets it. And she keeps coming. Back for more that is 😉

All You Wanna Do by @atticrissfinch

Now I am an angst queen. And boy this one is not for the weak. It is dark, please please please heed the warnings on this one. But personally I love this one. She has truly ripped my heart out, made my chest physically hurt. She invokes emotion so well.

No One But Me by @koshkamartell

This is a small blog's series that deserves to be promoted!

The Wrong Way by @romana-after-dark

Raider!Joel Miller and Raider!Tommy Miller x fem!Reader

Other P-boy Fics (in no specific order)

Dirty Uncle Ezra by @bonezone44

😏 yea I said it. Dirty Uncle Ezra. Hottest fucking concept I’ve ever heard. He’s so dirty and sleazy and ngh I’m already moaning. Also this beautiful human is an amazing artist so plz check out their art work 💜 (a note from Beefro: the fact that the age tag on this is 56+ made me laugh out loud)

Pascals Pursuit of Love! by @elvinaa (all the P-Boys!)

The innovation! It has all the P boys Bachelorette style. It’s so much like the show, it’s got twists and turns, there’s funny moments, cute moments. I look forward to each week aka each chapter lol I love it so much.

Apple by @romana-after-dark

Bisexual!Dark!Santiago Garcia, Bisexual!Dark!Frankie Morales, and Bisexual!Dark!William Miller x fem!Reader