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alltheirdamn · 1 year ago

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Lilies | dom!joel x sub!f!reader

Song Inspo: Lilies by Ethel Cain

Summary: Joel gives you everything, but you’re beginning to crave more. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 5.5k (sorry lol) Warnings: dom/sub dynamic, a teeny tiny bit of Stockholm syndrome, lingerie!kink, reader has long enough hair to braid, brat taming, jealousy, angst, names (little flower, sir, whore, slut), degrading!kink, anal play, anal sex, orgasm denial, oral (m!receiving), throat fucking, ball-sucking/worship, rough sex, creampie, slapping, spanking, aftercare, joel is kinda a meany but also kinda sweet A/N: this just kind of tumbled out of me and yeah… here we are lol very far out of my element with this dynamic, so hopefully i did it justice. (i am very horny for dom!joel right now, please don’t perceive me)

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The rules were simple:

You were to be at Joel’s home at exactly four pm every Friday and stay with him until Sunday evening

Your hair must be in a braid at all times

You could only wear lingerie (selected and purchased by Joel)

That was your routine.

You had been Joel’s submissive for half a year, and nothing had changed. You submitted to everything he asked without question. Yes, there were safe words in place and long conversations about wants and needs, but none of that mattered to you. All that mattered was Joel’s unwavering attention every weekend.

As time passed, though, you started wanting more. Three days weren’t enough for you. The rules weren’t enough. You wanted all of Joel. Not just his commands. Not just his cock. You wanted him to be yours in every way.

Nothing within Joel’s rules explicitly stated you could only see one another. As far as you were concerned, he only tended to one submissive at a time, and you had been with him the longest. Pride swelled inside you when you thought of that; Joel kept you because he wanted you. He enjoyed the pleasure you brought him, and in return, he cared for you deeply. But you wanted to see how deeply he cared about you and if he was as committed to you as you were to him.

That's when you devised a meticulously thought-out plan to prove Joel’s possessiveness. The desperate need to make him realize there would be no one else to make him happy.

You clicked the door open at precisely four pm and entered Joel's home. He kept it spotless, an immaculate representation of his attention to detail. Nothing went unnoticed, and everything had its place and purpose. Within his home, you had your purpose as well.

Tip-toeing through his kitchen, you brushed your hand over the marble counter, the stone cold to touch as you walked into the living room. Floor-to-ceiling bay windows compromised the room's side wall, looking out onto the brick terrace. Joel’s view of the city was the best money could buy, and you spent most Saturday mornings curled up on the patio sofa, watching the sun rise over the skyline.

The plush, gray couch in the center of the living room faced a large flat screen, one rarely used when you stayed on the weekends. Joel insisted on being present with you, whether it was fucking you into oblivion inside his bedroom or dotting over you with aftercare and affection. The lines blurred between strict rules and faltering emotions. He wasn’t a man of many words, but the feelings expressed through actions were enough to make your heart grow fonder.

Joel was to arrive home in less than thirty minutes, giving you enough time to piece yourself together in the new lingerie he had purchased. Wandering into the bedroom, you looked over the sight of his king-sized bed, covered in a white down comforter and scattered with an array of luxury pillows. The sheets beneath the comforter were silky soft and cool to the touch, but the press of Joel’s body against yours during the night kept you wrapped in a blanket of warmth.

The master bath was beyond beautiful, with its white trimmed crowning and alabaster bathtub under the window. Two sinks were carved into a marble counter: one for Joel and one for you. Countless times before, Joel bent you over the counter, forcing you to watch him through the bathroom mirror as he ruined you from behind. You came to learn that was one of Joel’s favorite activities: making you watch him while he fucked you. You loved it, too.

You loved everything he did.

Setting your overnight bag on the counter, you laid out your lingerie piece by piece. The white lace bustier was practically see-through, with a detailed pattern that left little to the imagination. The only part of the top that wasn’t fully transparent was the fishbone wiring that traced the underside of the bust. The matching underwear was no better; your neatly trimmed sex would be fully seen under the lace that comprised the tiny bodice. In Joel’s words, he wanted you to look “angelic and ethereal.” Once again, the thrumming in your heart increased knowing he saw you as such. He worshiped you head to toe, and you were so eager to give him anything he wanted. Slipping the garment over your body, you worked on your hair, plaiting the strands into a perfect braid you had mastered over the last several months. You secured it with a silk bow—just as Joel had requested—and settled it between your shoulder blades. Admiring yourself, you smiled into the mirror. Joel would be pleased with you.

But first, you needed to do something.

Reaching into your purse for your cell phone, you adjusted the camera to capture your lace-clad body in a teasing portrait. The photo wasn’t for Joel. Scrolling through your phone, you found the contact of your latest man of interest—well, not a genuine interest, so perhaps, the latest victim? You were only using him as part of your plan, and you hoped it worked in your favor.

As your finger hovered over the send button, you heard the unmistakable sound of the front door lock sliding open. A thrill of anxiety rushed through your body; you would do this. Pressing send, you ran to the bedroom and placed your phone on the nightstand. The ringer was on, which Joel did not favor during your time with him.

His large frame shadowed the bedroom door as he stepped into the room. In all his glory, Joel Miller was yours for the next seventy-two hours. But if you had it your way, he’d be yours forever. Clad in his usual work attire, his broad shoulders and chest stretched out his business suit, the white button-down peeking out beneath the jacket. His thick thighs were covered in well-tailored trousers, and his shoes were pristine and polished as he liked. Gazing up, you drank in the neatly trimmed scruff along his jaw, the silver patches thickening as they neared his ears. The mustache over his upper lip was just as clean, the edges dipping close to the curve of his mouth—which was currently tipped up into a satisfied grin.

“Hello, little flower,” he greeted.

Little flower.

That had always been his preferred name for you. “You’re so delicate, like a little flower. I could marvel at your beauty but crush you in my hand in seconds.”

Such a sentiment shouldn’t ignite something so visceral inside you, but it sounded so sweet when it fell off his tongue in honey-drench syllables.

“Hello, sir,” you smiled, your body situated on the edge of the bed.

You watched as he shed his suit jacket, folding it carefully and draping it over the dresser. His eyes stayed trained on you, the rich brown of his irises boring into you with a softness so tender it toppled something inside your stomach. Working at the cuffs of his shirt, Joel rolled them in perfect sections until they hugged the thick muscles of his forearms just below his elbows.

“You look radiant in the new set,” he said, his eyes dragging over your body.

You preened at his compliment, a blush crawling over your chest and neck.

“Thank you, sir. I love anything you pick out for me.”

Joel cracked a wide grin, pleased with your response. He curled his pointer finger at you, beckoning you closer. You obeyed his command wordlessly, stepping into his warmth. Rough, calloused fingers trailed over your bare skin, trailing higher up your arm until his hand came to cup your cheek.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he rubbed a thumb over your cheekbone, the touch you craved when you weren’t in his presence. You craved tenderness at all hours of the day; you lay awake sometimes at night yearning for more. Always more.

You craned your neck to kiss his lips softly, gently. If you could choose how you’d die, it would always be in this moment, where the world dissolved around you, and it was just Joel’s body against yours.

The moment shattered away as your phone shrilled from the nightstand, the vibration rattling the wood. Joel broke from your lips, his eyes set ablaze and swimming in darkness. Disappointment washed over his features, the crease between his brow forming and his lips set in a thin line. Without a single word, he strode to the nightstand and stared at your phone screen, no doubt flooded with texts from the man you had sent the photos.

Your heart thudded in your ears, the sound pressurizing inside your head. On bated breath, you waited for him to say something.

“Kneel,” he ordered, his voice cold. He didn’t even glance at you as he said the word.

You did without hesitation, your knees dropping to the carpet floor without a sound. The tension in the room was palatable as Joel walked into your line of vision. He held the phone in front of your face, his fingers tight around the edges.

“Read.”

Your eyes scanned the words on the screen, a slew of text messages… each more vulgar than the last. You didn’t want to say them aloud.

“Read,” he repeated.

“I—I don’t want to, sir,” you whispered.

Joel’s body was foreboding, a shadow swallowing you whole as you sat perched on your knees before him. He could do anything he wanted to you, and the truth was that you’d let him. You’d let him do anything because you wanted it. You wanted him so desperately.

“I didn’t ask if you wanted to read it,” he said. “I am telling you to read it.”

You swallowed thickly, your voice barely above a whisper, as you began to read off the text thread.

Damn, I need to know what your pussy looks like.

Let’s meet up tomorrow.

Send another picture. I want to see your legs spread wider.

Bet you would let me cum inside you.

Line after line, word after word, you were embarrassed. Embarrassed and afraid, neither settled well inside your stomach as it churched together.

Tossing the phone to the ground, Joel crouched to meet you at eye level. It was the first time you felt terrified by the way he looked at you. Several times, he had been rough—almost always, as it was what he enjoyed—but there was always a glimmer of softness even when he hurt you.

“You did this for a reason.” Joel didn’t ask; he said it like a calculated realization.

You bowed your head, too ashamed to meet his eye. Oh, but he didn’t like that. Gripping your chin with merciless strength, Joel lifted your face to meet his. A breath apart, but so far away.

“Explain yourself, little flower. I’m growing rather impatient.”

“I wanted to see you jealous, sir,” you admonished. “I wanted to know what you would do.”

“Jealous,” he echoed, rolling his tongue over his teeth.

He ripped his hand from your face, letting your head fall between your shoulders. You started at the polished tips of his work shoes, the black leather shiny and without marks. No detail went unnoticed.

“Undo my belt,” he instructed, stretching himself back to his full height.

Straightening your spine, you reached up to his belt and began to unclasp the metal, holding it tight around his trousers. Joel continued to stare down at you unamused. You worked at pushing his pants down his thick thighs, shoving them far enough to reach his kneecaps.

“Take out my cock. Let’s see how well I’ve trained your throat.”

You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, giving them a good tug until his thick cock sprung free. It bobbed against his stomach, the reddened tip weeping with precum. Your hand came up to grip the girthy base, but Joel tutted in protest.

“Hands behind your back, little flower.”

Clasping your hands at the base of your spine, you peered up at him with an eager expression. Joel arched a brow, waiting for you to comply and give him his request. Shuffling your knees forward, you dragged the tip of your tongue over the slit, lapping at the salty precum that dripped down. You peppered him with kitten kisses, your tongue tracing the veins on the underside of his cock. Joel rewarded you with a satisfied hum, bucking his hips forward until the head of his cock parted your lips wider.

Dropping your jaw open, you welcomed each girthy inch of his cock into your warm mouth, the faint smell of his body wash mingling with his musky scent as you took him deeper. The moment the head of his cock brushed the back of your throat, you sputtered softly and felt the tears begin to well in your eyes as you squeezed them shut.

Joel ripped himself from your mouth, his hand coming down to squish your cheeks together.

“Keep your eyes open.”

“Yes, sir,” you said sheepishly.

He released his grip on your face and adjusted himself back at your wet lips. Sucking in a deep breath, you wrapped your mouth around his cock once more. Joel jerked his hips forward, sending his cock to the back of your throat. You swallowed around him, keeping your tongue flat against the underside of his cock. Your nose brushed against the trimmed curls that framed his pubic bones, the hairs tickling your nose as he held you there.

“I’m going to count to ten, little flower. Be a good girl, and show me how well you can take it.”

You nodded, your mouth suctioning tighter around him. Joel’s eyes darkened, his lips parted as he readied himself to count.

“One,” he barked.

You blinked away the tears springing in the corner of your eyes. You could do this; you had done it before.

“Two.”

You unhinged your jaw, your senses invaded by his scent as you pressed further into his pubic hair. Somewhere between breaths, Joel counted three and four with a loud grunt, and you continued to focus on exhaling through your nose.

“Five,” he gritted.

The urge to gag around his cock grew harder to ignore, and the tears flowed freely down your cheeks. Your chin was coated in drool as you anticipated the next count, your eyes foggy as you stared up at him. Joel tilted his head, admiring how he stuffed every crevice of your mouth.

“Six.”

“Seven.”

More saliva pooled in your mouth, and you hollowed your cheeks to avoid sputtering around him. Joel’s lips curled into a devilish smirk, and he nudged his pelvis closer until your nose smashed into his skin. You coughed around his length, the corners of your mouth dripping saliva onto your neck and chest.

“Almost there, little flower. Doing so good for me,” he crooned.

Joel brushed a finger over your throat, tapping the bulge protruding against your aching flesh. Eight and nine were a blur, your eyes barely staying open. Every flutter of your lashes garnered a dissatisfied tut from Joel, his body tense and throbbing with anger.

“Ten,” he sighed.

You tore away, coughing violently as you sucked in jagged breaths. Twisting your hands behind you, you squeezed your eyes shut to push the remainder of the tears down your cheeks. Joel wrapped a large hand around the base of his cock, stroking himself slowly and lazily.

“Stick out your tongue,” he ordered.

The words he said were far and few, which terrified you. Deep within yourself, you knew you had enraged him with your little act. It garnered no affection as you hoped, but he still gave you the attention you yearned for. Good or bad, you would take it. You would take anything he gave you.

A trail of saliva, salty and thick, dripped from the point of your tongue as you did what he instructed. Joel rested the velvety skin of his balls against your mouth, the weight of them heavy on your tongue. You didn’t need his commands as you slipped one of his balls into your mouth. Above you, Joel shuddered and clenched his fists at his side. You worshiped each with equal measure, alternating between gentle caresses of your tongue and sloppy suctions of your mouth.

“That’s it, little flower. Just like that,” Joel cooed.

A desperate moan left your lips as you lapped up the salty wetness covering his silken sack, swallowing down the remnants of your drool. Joel pumped himself faster, the sound of his jagged breathing mixing with the lewd noises of your mouth. His release was nearing; you could sense it in the way his thick thighs flexed around your face.

“Please,” you whined, your words muffled into the hair around his balls.

Joel’s hand slowed around his length, his thumb brushing over the slit as more precum leaked out. Staring up at him helplessly, you waited for his release to paint your tongue. He gave you a stern look, nodding toward the bed.

“Hands and knees. Now.”

“But—,” you protested.

Joel smoothed his palm over your cheek before pulling back and delivering a sharp smack against your face. You jerked at the sting of his touch radiating through the layers of your skin. He undoubtedly left behind a reddened mark across your cheek and jaw.

“You’ve already angered me once,” he warned. “Get on the fucking bed.”

Your knees scuffed against the ground as you scrambled onto the bed, situating yourself in the position he commanded. The unmistakable sound of the leather unsheathing from his pants ignited a new wave of fear through your body. Joel discarded it beside your face before coasting a hand down the center of your spine.

“I’ll give you another chance to explain yourself,” Joel said.

The bed dipped under his weight as he pressed a knee into the comforter beside you. You glanced over your shoulder, watching through teary eyes as Joel quickly unbuttoned his shirt. Dark chest hair scattered over his broad chest, spattered lower until it tapered into a thick trail down his pelvis. A thin sheen of sweat glistened over his golden skin as he discarded his shirt carelessly onto the ground. Careless…it wasn’t something you were used to with Joel.

“I just wanted your attention,” you muttered, your head hanging between your shoulders.

Joel tugged your braid, forcing your neck to crane backward. Despite the harshness of his words, his touch, his demeanor… your body throbbed with an unavoidable need. It throbbed at the apex of your sex, the lace rubbing against the slick that pooled between your thighs. Joel paid no attention to the way your legs shifted side to side, his unwavering stare penetrating you.

“Do I not give you enough attention?” He questioned.

“You do, sir,” you nodded, the strain on your neck growing uncomfortable.

“Perhaps you don’t deserve attention at all,” he mused.

He released his grip on your hair, your head falling forward and hanging low between your shoulders. Joel moved behind your body, his thick fingers tearing apart the lace hugging your ass. You yelped at the sheer force of it, the chill of the room skating up your bare sex. Joel’s fingertips traced over the back of your thigh, lingering close to the outline of your weeping pussy. Just one touch. That’s all you wanted—just one.

His touch disappeared, leaving you whining and frustrated. Joel huffed a laugh before bringing two fingers to your mouth.

“Suck. Get them nice and wet for me.”

You obliged, rolling your tongue over the thick digits as they pressed down into your mouth. He pulled them away, a web of drool connecting from the tip of your tongue to the pads of his fingers. Joel knocked your legs open further, and you waited in anticipation for his fingers to give you what you needed. Except, he didn’t.

A gasp left your lips as he pushed the calloused skin of his fingertips against the tight ring of muscles above your slit. With one hand gripping your ass, Joel spread you wider, humming at the sight of you fully exposed.

“Maybe you don’t deserve the attention you want. You’ll take what I give you, and you’ll thank me.”

“Please,” you whined.

“No,” he growled. “Desperate little sluts don��t get what they want.”

Joel’s finger dipped into your clenching hole, prodding you open despite your whines of protest. It wasn’t the first time he used this way, but it felt different. It wasn’t kind. It wasn’t meant to be focused on your pleasure. He was determined to prove a point, and you would comply because you were so greedy for anything he could give. He pressed the second finger to your hole, stretching you wider as he pushed them to his second knuckle. Wider and wider, he stretched you, uncomfortable but not unwelcomed.

“I see how wet you are, little flower. I know how greedy this pussy can get, but you know what? You don’t deserve it. This pussy doesn’t deserve my attention at all.”

“Sir!” You cried.

“You’re going to take my cock in your ass like the pathetic whore you are,” he growled.

Joel curled his fingers inside you, slipping them deeper until they were fully seated inside you. If you felt full now, it would be nothing compared to the way his cock would split you open. The sheer thought of it sent a shockwave to your clit, the aching bud pulsating painfully. Joel laughed at the way you squirmed underneath him, rewarding your cries with a jarring smack against your ass. Fuck, it hurt.

Tearing his fingers from you, Joel disappeared from the bed and riffled through his nightstand drawer. You heard the familiar sound of the lube squirting into his hand and the rough breath of Joel as he realigned himself with your loosened hole. The initial intrusion of his cock sparred stars into your vision, the tip of his cock tearing you open. Even in his angered haze, Joel was slow—careful.

“Breathe, little flower,” he urged.

You barely managed a full gulp of air before Joel bottomed out entirely. A scream erupted from your lips as you adjusted to his size, each inch of his length stuffed inside your tightening hole. Your body flexed and tensed under Joel’s touch, one hand pressing into your lower back, the other looping a finger through the plaits in your hair. Beneath him, you were helpless, entirely at his mercy for whatever he wanted.

With a slow retraction of his hips, Joel snapped his hips forward hard enough to send your upper body into the comforter. The rugged momentum of his thrusts tore you apart; piece by piece, Joel diminished you into nothing but a hole for his use.

“Greedy fucking whore,” Joel grunted, each thrust weighted and heavy inside you. “How’s it feel, huh? You love being used like this?”

“I love it, sir,” you cried.

Joel pulled out to the tip, a heavy breath expelling from your mouth. He ripped into you again, resolving you into a heap of tears and shallow whimpers. His finger in your intertwined hair tightened, pulling your neck back until you had no choice but to connect with his piercing stare. With blown pupils and curled lips, Joel was the epitome of carnal rage. You did this. You spurred him into this embodiment of anger.

“Is this enough for you, little flower?” He demanded.

Arousal dripped between your legs, the snap of his balls against your clit radiating pleasure through your body. You writhed under his hold, a pleading cry leaving your mouth as you stared at him helplessly. Usually reserved and stoic, Joel’s emotions washed over his features, speaking louder than his words. You didn’t just anger him; you hurt him. You questioned his role as a dominant, which was an unspeakable thing to do.

“Answer me!” He raged.

“It’s enough!” You sobbed.

Joel fucked you into abandon, your asshole sore and pained with every cantation of his hips. He was tearing you apart from the inside out, unrelenting and punishing. Your safe word balanced on the tip of your tongue, yet you withheld. You knew Joel would stop the moment you said the word, but you didn’t want him to. You wanted to prove you could be everything and more. You wanted to prove yourself until he wanted no other but you.

The pulse between your legs was unbearable. You were stretched out and gaping around his cock, void of any chance of release. Joel knew how your body responded; he was aware of how your hole contracted and flexed around him. Yet, he gave you nothing. He wouldn’t.

“Taking my cock so well, little flower,” he muttered between labored breaths. “Swallowing every inch of me.”

“Please, sir. Please, I want to cum,” you babbled.

The sting of his palm against your ass was his response to your pleas, a simple gesture to shut you up. You took it, though your body buzzed with pleasure in every limb.

“I know you do,” he crooned softly. “But you don’t get what you want. Only what I give you. So fucking take it.”

The world was caving around you, your vision blackening at the edges. Joel wound your braid over his fist and quickened his thrusts. Your body sagged into the bed, limp and pliant. Guttural sounds fell off Joel’s lips as he fucked you into the bed. Your ears deafened to the noise, your mouth hanging open and dripping spit into the soft bedspread beneath you. The erratic drive of his cock was the only warning you had to know he was close. Jagged, deep thrusts speared into you as Joel toppled over the edge with an animalist growl as he pumped his release into your fucked out hole. You twitched under his body, your knees slipping lower as your body gave out.

Despite the haze inside your mind, your lips tipped up into a satisfied grin. He used your body just as he wanted, and you proved fealty to him—ardent, unwavering submission to the one man who wove his way into your heart.

Joel pulled himself from you, slow and gentle, until the roll of his release was falling between your slit. You clenched around nothing, the tight ring of muscles aching painfully. He reached up to undo the silk bow holding your braid together, his fingers working through the soft waves as they floated over your back.

“Little flower,” he whispered, kissing your sweat-coated spine.

You flinched at his touch, not out of fear but of shock that still radiated through your muscles. You hadn’t fully returned to your mind, and Joel took notice. Working you onto your back, he roamed a hand over your breasts; his hand pressed firmly against the thrumming pulse of your heart. You stared up at him blankly, the tears now dried against your cheeks. What had been the face of cruelty only moments ago had now morphed into the soft, longing gaze you always yearned for. Joel’s pupils had returned to normal, the flecks of amber and rich chocolate boring into you with a look of concern.

“Thank you, sir,” you whispered.

He bent over you, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. Your eyes fluttered close, relishing in the softness of his lips on your skin. You wanted this. You ached for it fiercely but could not form the words to beg for it.

“Stay here a moment,” he said.

You lay against the bed, your limbs twitching as you rolled onto your side. Curling into yourself, you fought off the tremors still wracking through your muscles, a steady pulse rhythmically beating within your clit. Joel denied you your orgasm, which he never did. It was your punishment for wanting too much—a miscalculated attempt at proving your worth.

The sound of running water drifted from the bathroom, followed by Joel’s heavy footsteps nearing the bed. With a quick unclasping of your bustier and a firm hand under your knees, Joel lifted you from the bed. You became weightless in his arms, cradling you to his sweaty chest. Wrapping a shaky arm around his shoulders, you rested your head inside the crook of his neck and exhaled an exhausted sigh.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said softly.

The pungent aroma of lavender and vanilla tinged your nose as Joel guided you into the bathtub. Immediately, your muscles unwound in their tension, a relieving groan expelling from your lips. The heat of the water soothed your tender flesh, the bubbles running over your bare skin in small clusters. Joel was dedicated to aftercare, especially after rougher sessions with you. This was no different. He always remained beside the bathtub, soothing you with praise as you tipped further into its warmth.

You blinked up at him, giving him a tired smile. He gave you a silent nod, then motioned for you to slide forward. He never bathed with you. It wasn’t a rule, per se, but he never granted it to you. This was different—foreign.

You slid your body as far as it could go, your knees pressed to your chest as Joel dipped into the water behind you. Hooking a strong arm around your abdomen, he pulled you flush with his body and dropped his mouth below the shell of your ear.

“You chose to anger me today,” he muttered. “I need the honest truth as to why you did it.”

You twisted your face around to meet his steady gaze, your bottom lip quivering while you debated if the truth was worth voicing.

“I wanted you to be possessive,” you admitted. “I wanted to know if you cared for me the way I care for you.”

Joel’s eyebrows raised slightly, the words shocking him.

“Of course, I care for you. Do I not show it well enough?”

“No—no, you do, sir. I just…I want to be the only one you care for.”

“You have been, little flower. There’s been no one else the entire time you’ve been with me,” he insisted.

You turned your body around, your knees bruising against the tile as you cupped his face. Never had you been so vulnerable with Joel, but you needed him to see your desperation. You needed him to see how committed you were to your role in his life.

“I want to be the only one,” you repeated. “I don’t want you to have another.”

Joel’s hands rested at the curve between your waist and hips, prodding your flesh soothingly.

“Is that what you want, little flower?” He questioned.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, sir. What matters is if it’s what you want.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, creases forming near his temple as he shut his eyes. Silence fell between you, so loud it fractured your heart. No answer was an answer. You failed in your attempts to prove yourself. You failed to make him want you more. He didn’t want you, no matter—.

“My sweet, little flower,” he sighed.

Fresh tears slipped down your cheek, and you made no effort to swat them away. It was useless when you knew you lost the one thing you wanted the most. Joel brushed his lips against yours, and you let a muffled cry escape.

“Rules can be rectified,” he started. “If this is something you wish, I’ll happily oblige.”

“Really?” You asked, pulling away.

You studied him for any sign of doubt, any stolen glance that may prove his words a lie. But he looked at you with complete devotion, irrevocable certainty.

“I want you just as badly. All you had to do was ask. There was no need for defiance or jealousy.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I think you’ve proven yourself more than enough today, little flower. Turn around so I can care for you properly.”

You slipped back into his warm embrace, your legs widening and pressed against his. Joel smoothed a hand down your stomach, his fingers tracing the swollen lips of your sex. You bucked into his hand, chasing the orgasm that still swam within your stomach. He drew slow, tantalizing circles over your soddened clit, muttering soft words into your ear.

“Such a good girl,” he cooed. “I know what you need. I’ll take care of you.”

“Yes—yes,” you panted, arching into his touch.

The pad of his finger pressed into the throbbing bud, the surging pleasure inside you growing agonizing. Bathwater sloshed around your body is rivulets, the push and pull of the waves crashing into the space where your skin didn’t touch. Closer and closer, he drove you to the edge until a delicious rapture tore through your body. Every muscle beneath your balmy skin seized upwards, a wail of relief echoing around the empty bathroom as you caved into your climax.

“That’s it, little flower. So beautiful when you come undone for me,” Joel mumbled into your ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe.

Shockwaves trembled over you as you slumped against his solid frame, your head falling back onto his shoulder. You had what you wanted. Body and soul, Joel granted your wish. Ecstasy wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the swelling inside your chest.

“Stay with me. More than just the weekends. I’ll have your things brought here, and you can stay permanently,” Joel offered. “This house is rather lonely without you in it, anyway.”

“Okay,” you submitted, a grin stretching across your face.

He was yours.

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nobody-nexus · 4 months ago

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A world of chaos and destruction, not much is known about what exactly the place is aside from the name of a blood bath of a free for all world where death is only a temporary set back... Welcome to...

The Deadzone

The Digital Deadzone is an AU where Caine is the head of a sandbox free-for-all game that the cast are stuck in. Having infinite lives, they're all here to fight and die for the entertainment of a third party

Constant weapons, supplies, and stuff spawn for them and it's supposed to be everyman for themselves, however some form bonds over the years they've spent in constant chaos. Every character has a class, a passive ability, and an active ability- as well as the power to use any and all weapons that Caine provides them

Caine will also force the players and NPCs into teams to do missions to keep everything fresh and unique. But that won’t help everyone during an almost hopeless situation… Well. At least they have each other

Below the keep reading for the main cast! (All Humans + Caine)

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Health: High Attack: Medium Defense: Medium Agility: High Height: 4’11’’ Real Name: Eliza Pavlova Old Occupation: Full Time Modeler and Coder Class: Offense

Passive Ability: Due to her cat-based abilities, her speed, agility, and flexibility is naturally increased. She has retractable claws and a tail that she can use to hold onto things -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Health: Very High Attack: Low Defense: High Agility: Medium Height: 5’6’’ Real Name: Amanda A. Raggson Old Occupation: Script Writer Class: Support

Passive Ability: She’s naturally resilient to most damage due to her plush and cotton filled body. She can take more hits than usual, and she can fix herself up easily. However, stuff like water, milk, or any other kind of liquid can slow her down if dosed in enough of it -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Health: Medium Attack: Low Defense: Very Low Agility: Very High Height: 6’4’’ Real Name: Jackson Mendez Old Occupation: Game Tester Class: Offense

Passive Ability: His jumping capability has been increased due to being a Leporidae, making him able to go high into the air and land without taking damage (if he lands on his feet, of course) -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Health: High Attack: Low Defense: Medium Agility: Medium Height: 5’10’’ Real Name: Grace Sezer Old Occupation: Concept Artist Class: Defense

Passive Ability: Being made of ribbons, she’s naturally flexible and can go through tight spaces and reach places most can’t. She also can wrap herself around objects (when she doesn’t have clothes on, which is kinda weird) -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Health: High Attack: High Defense: Low Agility: Medium Height: 7’2’’ Real Name: Zoe Imelda Albrechtsson Old Occupation: Environmental Modeler Class: Support

Passive Ability: They can take themselves apart and put themselves right back together due to their building block like body. This makes them practically immune to a good portion of explosives and limb detachment tactics -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Health: Medium Attack: Medium Defense: High Agility: Very Low Height: 6’4’’ Real Name: Caesar Kingston Old Occupation: Head of the Game Department / Head Coder Class: Defense

Passive Ability: Due to being made of a strong petrified wood, Kinger seems to not take much physical damage unless it’s from explosives or heavy environmental damages. He can still feel the pain though -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Health: Low Attack: Medium Defense: High Agility: Medium Height: 5’11’’ Real Name: Daniel Kaufman Old Occupation: Janitor Class: Offense

Passive Ability: His body is blubbery, which makes him less likely to be damaged by bludgeoning or stabbing like damage, however other sorts of physical damage do the same amount of damage to him -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Health: Very High Attack: Very High Defense: Very High Agility: Very High Height: 5’3’’ Real Name: “Master of the Deadzone” Old Occupation: None Class: ???

Passive Ability: He knows everything about every new player as soon as they enter into the world. It’s unknown how this is even possible, but it seems to be something he’s fed through an unknown source. But this does make him want to know more about the minds behind the stories… -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is an AU that means a lot to me personally. It will handle topics that I understand and relate to. It'll also be a rather serious AU as well

Once I post more about this AU (which I very much will be doing because I have a LOT about it), I shall make a proper masterpost on this one

And please ASK AWAY ON THIS AU. I legit have spent MONTHS working on this AU because I want it to be perfect

Hope to see more soon!

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starcultz · 3 months ago

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bleeding devotion

synopsis: suguru tends to your wounds underneath the dim lights of his bathroom.

contents: mentions of blood, reader enjoys violence, it’s essentially a sensitive!suguru x delinquent!reader | w.c: 0.8k

a/n: i wrote this stream of consciousness at midnight in like 10 minutes a few months ago while listening to “gibson girl” by ethel cain, so i’m cleaning it up & posting it again! soft sugu & bloody reader my beloveds… <3 i hope you enjoy! MWAH! ♡

suguru thinks you look pretty like this.

blood dripping from your lips like pomegranate juice, smeared across your mouth like lipstick, coating your teeth in a layer of red rubies — as if you bit into something you shouldn’t have. your sick smirk, lecherous and all-knowing, makes his stomach churn with fear and adrenaline. suguru knows that you can sense his unease and discomfort, he knows that you enjoy it — something about wanting to see him squirm is fun to you.

he won't give you the satisfaction.

(his hands won't stop shaking.)

he doesn’t know why violence comes so easily to you. why it’s such a natural part of your being, a second nature of some sort. it’s something you revel in, take pride in, surround yourself with. it consumes you.

you're a dog who likes to fight.

he also doesn’t know why it’s something you always tell him not to do. you tell him that a face like his isn’t mean to he ruined; he should keep it safe and pretty, like it is.

suguru thinks you're a fucking hypocrite.

(his mother told him to stay away from you, you’re a bad influence. his father thinks he’s a lost cause just like you.)

he doesn’t know why he’s “friends” with you, if he’s being honest with himself. there’s no transactional relationship, you don’t offer up anything to him besides physical scars and bloody wounds that need healing. he thinks he allows it because he likes taking care of you. he has a fondness for abandoned strays — he enjoys the way he has to put you back together again, savors the way your lowlidded gaze follows his form around his bathroom as you sit atop his counter, your wolfish smile and pointed stare devouring his very being. there’s a beauty in the mundanity as he grabs gauze from the cabinet next to your head, bandaids from the drawer underneath your left thigh, and rubbing alcohol underneath the sink.

he likes this little routine you’ve both created a little too much — a dance of some sort. it’s muscle memory now.

most of all, suguru knows that he likes being needed. that he’s of use because someone stronger than him needs to be taken care of, that someone like you can only rely on someone like him — the polite, pretty boy from down the street. he takes pride in being your safety net.

the wince on your face when he finally dabs your skin is just a fun little bonus.

you don’t mind the sting, you never have, you’re a bit masochistic like that. it’s enjoyable for you because suguru is the one doing it — nursing you, putting you in momentary agony, inflicting pain just to take it away seconds later. it's not too bad when you think about it.

it’s not so bad when his fingers brush your hair away from your face, it’s not so bad when he tilts your jaw upwards, it’s not so bad when his bangs tickle your cheek. it’s not so bad when he leans his face closer to yours — his minty breath fanning into your face, sweet and warm. it’s not so bad when he softly demands you to, “be careful.”

it’s not so bad when you set your sights upon his lips, plush and rosy. it’s not so bad when you look at his pearly white teeth, watching his lips form around your name, urging and heeding, imploring you to take his advice.

he's a sensitive boy at heart, is what you've figured out.

you never say anything back because you know you never will be. careful, that is.

you like this routine you've both created a little too much.

suguru sighs, soft and light. he gazes at you tiredly, yet oddly fond, pools of topaz burning through a ring of obsidian. he raises his hand, resting his warm fingers against your lips, pressing, softly at first. then a bit harder. he gets closer. he wonders if the blood in your mouth will taste sweeter in his. he thinks he wants to breathe life into you, that if anyone could do it, he can. you think you just might let him, just to see if he could.

it’s midnight and the lights are dim, only a pool of moonlight from the bay window and a soft sepia tone from the bulbs above illuminate the features of the pretty boy who lives down the street — the one standing in front of you now. his pulsating chest pressed up against yours. a heart for a heart, both of you love-drunk and dazed.

your blood drips from suguru’s lips like amber honey, sweet and warm.

you think suguru looks pretty like this.

#geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #rewrote this because i have a lot of love for this little thing :’)#my writing

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honeykaes · 2 years ago

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natural artwork

hickies hc’s feat. wriothesley, lyney, thoma

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, marking, praise, rough sex (wriothesley), doggystyle (wriothesley), creampies (wrio + thoma), fingering (lyney), unedited

As the Duke of the Fortress du Meropide, Wriothesley knows he is respected across the halls. He knows many would not dare to challenge his authority and challenge his charisma, respect and strength he has crafted for years in this place.

Although he knows many wouldn’t dare challenge him, he couldn’t help clench his jaw a little too tightly when his icy eyes caught the multiple gazes focused on your form. He wasn’t a jealous man by many means, but the way their eyes lingered wishing their hands were his own—gently clasping your hand was building up frustration.

Something he can take out with ease with you.

His thick fingers pressed against your tongue, causing you to gag and tighten as his cock tongued to plunge deep inside of you. His other hand slapped firmly on your clit, jolts of pain and pleasure rippling through your body. He dragged his caines across your neck and nibbled the sensitive skin while his other hand palmed and squeezed against the plush of your ass.

“Why are you always so good for me hmm…squeezing me so tightly like this. It’s a shame I can’t have you moaning my name out in case some wandering ears try to figure out what we’re doing here,” he mused, gyrating his hips before sinking in deeper. His tip nudged against your cervix, thick veins massaging along your walls with every thrust.

“But I have to have some insurance that they know not to mess with what’s the Duke’s, even if it’s just in their imagination,” he grunted. His lips made contact with your neck, gently sucking on the skin. Vibrations from your moans reverberated on his fingers still gagging you, as he continued to nip and suck at that skin.

When he looked up, a large bright red mark had made its way on that spot—a reminder for those wandering eyes of those in the Meropide. A smirk fell on his lips as he slapped your ass in response, pace gaining in speed as he admired the new art on your body.

With a few more grunts, he felt your walls cave in and your body squirm as you managed to reach your high.

“That’s it…that’s it, love,” he hummed. He grunted, sloppily thrusting a few more times before finally losing himself inside of you. Ropes of this thick cum filled you up, as his lips continued to drag against the hickey on your neck.

The famed magician of Fontaine, can’t seem to take his hands off of you. Through all the masks he’s worn in life, he’s thankful to finally find someone who loves him without them.

It was late night and the two of you were unwinding after one of his shows. He stood the vanity mirror, taking his white blouse off before a smile curved on his face admiring the faint marks on his chest—reminders of your love that he adored wearing.

His amethyst eyes flickered to your reflection seeing you bare chested and unaware of his gaze. The marks he had littered on your chest were becoming faint as well, barely detectable to someone who wasn’t specifically looking for them. His smile turned into a slight pout before getting up from the vanity.

“Mon cœur, come here please…” Lyney hummed, beginning to wipe the makeup from his face. As you curiously looked at him, you quickly walked over to where he was sitting by the vanity. He lifted his gaze toward you, iries swirling in mischief

“Hm? What’s wrong?” you asked. Lyney rose from his seat, offering you a slow and sensual kiss on your lips. He softly moaned in the kiss as you returned it, before his hand crept up along your thigh, resting at the waistband of your pants.

His fingers dipped down, fingers quickly cupping your soft folds before his thumb slowly circled your sensitive clit. He could feel your cunt beginning to drip with your essence.

His lips finally separated from your own, trailing soft kisses from your neck and collarbone until making his way to your chest. He pressed his lips between the valley of your chest, beginning to suck and nibble at the skin as his other thumb rolled itself against your sensitive and pebbling nipple.

A soft moan escaped your lips as Lyney’s fingers pressed firmer on your clit, circling it faster.

“Such a lovely symphony from your lips…might if I hear more of it,” he chuckled before making his way towards the top of your mound, sucking and nippling them. He could feel you tighten against his fingers, body shifting and shivering in the pleasure he was offering you.

“L-Lyney…!” you whimpered out, as you reached your high, grinding your hips to get any more friction from his fingers. Lyney lifted his head up, admiring the new marks decorated on your chest.

“C’est parfait…” Lyney hummed. “Now…I think it maybe time for you to reapply your marks, hm?~”

You could always tell when Thoma was more frustrated than other times. He always usually wore a smile regardless of how frustrated he was —a trick he had picked up from working for the Kamisato estate for so long. It was easy to notice if you were close with him.

Sometimes his eyes would twitch, other times his nose would flare. And whenever he was being intimate, it seemed that a hickey would manage to find itself on you.

Thoma grinded into your core, grunting as his lips nibbled and sucked on your collarbone. Your legs wrapped themselves against your waist, feeling his cock continue to slip across your slit. His cum already drippled from you as he pumped his hardening cock once more, soon trying to push himself back inside.

“Thoma…did something happen at work again…?” you asked, playing with his soft hair. He froze momentarily before sighing and a soft laugh coming from his lips.

“...A-Ah…it’s that obvious?” he asked. You shook your head as he leaned up, looking at the multiple bright red hickies on your collarbone. Your gaze softened before he pressed his sweaty forehead against your own.

“Well…I’m your spouse so I can tell you these things, Thoma,” you murmured. Thoma sighed before sinking his cock back inside of you. His pace was much slower than it was the previous round as his thumb slowly rubbed your overstimulated clit.

The constant slap of skin echoed out into the bedroom barely illuminated with a candle. Thoma’s lips parted, emerald eyes darkened in lust as he muttered your name.

“I just wish my time was more respected, that’s all. I just want time for….us,” he grunted, his calloused fingers pinching your clit. You shift you head to the side as Thoma’s lips made their way to your neck.

“I just want to be with you more….do this more. I always feel so guilty making you wait for me,” he admitted, as his pace began to quicken. He could feel your walls quivering soon reaching your second climax of the night.Thoma grunted, pushing his head against your neck as he soon joined you.

As you two tried catching your breath, you play with Thoma’s hair once more.

“Then…maybe we can negotiate with the heads to get you a week of vacation, maybe two weeks. We can visit Mondstadt or something…” you offered. Thoma lifted his head, eyes softening before pecking your lips.

“That sounds great.”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #lyney x reader #lyney smut #thoma x reader #thoma smut

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fansta · 7 months ago

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Some role swap au ideas I've been cooking up!

Don't know if they'll change at all when I finish lining them and making little cards.

I'm going to explain some design choices and personality change ideas under the cut for fun :3

• Pomni takes on Ragathas role, she's a porcelain doll, with one eye permanently stuck in a wink. She's kind but not as motherly as Ragatha.

•Ragtha takes Pomnis role, she's based on Pierrot, instead of a Jester. She is scared but much sadder than she is anxious.

• Jax is in Gangles role. He's got my favorite redesign of the bunch. He's a Jax in the box! When his crank is lost or broken he goes back in his box until he can be wound up again. The crew keeps a wagon to pull him around on adventures when he's in box form.

• Gangle takes over Jax's role. I repurposed my own idea from the amazing digital oz gangle design, and made her into cat plush with a clay face. Her whiskers are ribbons and her neck bow extends down her back into two tails. She's cuter than Jax but meaner then him too.

That's all I've got rn! I have to finish Kinger, Zooble and Caine. Bubble is a universal constant imo lol. I want to make a side blog dedicated to the story I have planned.

It's going to be a short and sweet comic series but it'll take a little while for me to get it out since im about to start a new job!

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starfxkrinc · 11 days ago

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Strawberry Sweet

Captain Price comes home to the love of his life.

cw: incest la vie! or whatever ethel cain said

John Price was dog tired, dragging himself up the steps of the large country house felt like the hardest mission of all. In all honesty he could have just collapsed on the porch and stayed there for a couple days.

But the sweet smell wafting from the house carried him in: strawberries, vanilla, fluffy buttercream. The heat radiated from the second he opened the door and there you were–all round curves and plush thighs as you floated through the kitchen. His little cub wrapped in fuzzy pink pajama pants and a top that stopped a few inches above your belly button.

Your nose scrunched like you could smell him walk in, and you probably did all that smoke and musk cutting through the strawberry bubble you created. When you turned- wide eyed with a frosting covered finger in your mouth like you’ve been caught– you squealed, “Daddy!”

He had all of 3 seconds to drop bis bag before you were launching yourself into his arms, smothering sticky kisses across his face with no care to the fatigue overtaking him, “Glad to see you too lovie, now please give your old man a chance to sit down.”

“Oh! Sorry.” You sheepishly slide down, and even through his clothes he can feel your soft curves against him, this time you do give him a really big sniff, “Daddy you stink, go shower.”

“Aw c’mon–”

“Shower!” You shove a cupcake in his mouth, still warm from the oven and send him towards his bedroom, “you get more treats after you’re clean!”

Price sighed, you were a spoiled little thing, a product of a one night stand that he doted on from the moment your mother dropped you off on his doorstep in your bassinet. There was no need for a paternity test, you looked just like him if he were brown skinned and curly haired. Had his temper too. Maybe that's why he indulged you, to keep the bear cub happy and pliant lest she lay waste to the house.

That’s why he showered with a cupcake hanging from his mouth.

When he came out, appropriately clean and cozied in pajamas you directed him to his chair, placing a steaming hot roast on his tray with a kiss on the cheek, “I know you’re hungry!”

His eyes roamed over you, lingering at the pretty pink belly button ring dangling from your navel, “Ravenous. Come sit with the old man.”

You played at contemplating before agreeing, “Alright, if it’ll make you happy.” You settle in, turning the tv to whatever girly movie you were watching prior, Price didn’t care. He was just happy to be home with his girl, warm food in his belly and some peace and quiet.

The meal is taken quietly, ever so often he spoons some mashed potatoes or pot roast in your mouth, blood pumping as your lips shone with the savory gravy. Nothing made him happier than watching you eat, knowing he could provide you with the comforts that led you to developing your full figure. No skipped meals, no half portions. You can indulge in whatever you want.

“How’s bout some dessert now petal, sound good?” he kisses your neck, nipping at your jaw to make you giggle, “where’s that treat you promised.”

You squirmed and fought your way out of his hold, going to the kitchen island to bring out two perfectly iced cupcakes, topped with a fluffy pink frosting

“One for you and one for me!” You took a bite, making a soft noise of pleasure as the flavour hit your tongue. Price followed suit, eyes fluttering shut as he sank against the recliner, feeling the last bit of tension leave his body as he scarfed down the sweet.

Who needed a housewife when he had you? You cooked, you cleaned.

You fucked him good after a campaign.

He could already feel you wiggling, trying to get his growing hard on where you needed it, “Easy girl, daddy’s tired.” Price rubbed his thumbs across your hips in a soothing motion, but you just whimpered.

“But I’ve been waiting all day.” He chanced opening an eye to see you staring, eyes welling with tears and your plump bottom lip jutting out. He knew he was seconds away from a meltdown.

“Shh, shh, shh none of that c’mere.”

You tucked in close, letting him rub your back in soothing patterns. It did little to help, you kept your hand tucked tight between your legs to alleviate some of the building pressure and he could feel your hard nipples practically tearing holes through your paper thin shirt.

Price sighed, “Alright, lemme see lovie c’mon, shirt up.”

Obeying, you bit you lip as you exposed yourself. Brown nipples puffy and hard, the pretty pink jewels twinkling in them.

“Oh lovie, I’m sorry, you need a kiss don’t you?”

Slowly, you nod, shivering in anticipation as he dips his head, capturing a hardened bud with his teeth to make you gasp. You’ve been more sensitive since you’ve got them pierced, only soothed by your fathers expert tongue.

His warm, wet tongue circled your areolas, teasing to the point of frustration as you humped your hand.

“Bed! Please daddy take me to bed.”

With a grunt Price scooped you up, carrying you to your room with ease as he deposited you in your mess of fluffy pink sheets.

There was no blood left in his head, completely forced below his waist by the powdery sweet smell of your skin, all strawberry syrup and whipped cream.

He’s in such a rush pulling your bottoms off that he scratches you, raising welts on your delicate skin, “I’m so sorry love, daddy didn’t mean to hurt you-” all apologies die on his tongue when he finally pries your thick thighs apart, and he sees the real feast.

The chubby lips of your cunt were sticky wet, clit pushed past its brown hood to expose the delicate pink sweetness of your pearl, pretty diamond crowning the top of your vulva like a crown.

“This new petal?” His rough fingers softly pass over it, causing you to shiver.

You nod, “Got it before you left, as a surprise.”

If he was dizzy before, he might as well be hung upside down now. His eyes were everywhere–your soft face, lips dewy from kisses. Your full breasts already blooming with bruises. Your chubby waist. Your twitching cunt.

Fuck. How’d he get so lucky?

Price leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to the gem, “i love it,” He presses a kiss to your clit, “I love you.”

Then he feasts. Pressing his tongue as far deep into you as he can, tonguing out your juices so they flow right down his throat. You turn wild above him, body singing as pleasure pules through you, babbling and moaning when he sucks your swollen bud into his mouth just to feel it throb.

“OH! Oh my god, daddy I’m gonna cum” He doubles his efforts, pushing your legs back to your chest so he can rim your puffy asshole. He needs all of you, needs to taste everything you can give as he pushes further into your tight furl.

“I know it’s a lot, but you gotta give it to me sweetheart, I want my baby’s cum.” Harsh, smacking kisses are placed to your cunt and you let go, cream streaming out your hole and into his mouth as he drinks you up greedily, “That’s what I fuckin missed.”

You’re still twitching when he gets on top of you, cum in his beard when he kisses you.

“I know it’s been a while lovie, but you gotta let me in, relax, just let me get the tip in.” Jesus he’s thick, as thick as your wrist when he pries you open when the blunt head of his cock. It’s like the first time all over again. It feels like that often because he’s just heavy, So damn thick you feel like he’s splitting you open and digging past your guts and into your lungs until he’s fully seated at the base, your fat lips barely cushioning his pelvis. Shakily, you reached down to press manicured fingers against your clit, swirling in measured circles to ease the discomfort.

“Nice and slow, cmon.” Price pulls back, halfway out so you can adjust to him. Already he’s covered in you, pushing out more and more cream with each thrust as he covers you with his big, burly form.

You don’t think anyone could ever make you feel as small as he does, the ease in which he maneuvers and picks up your plump figure, you’d never once think you were anything else than a babydoll in his arms.

And he treated you as such.

Each thrust of his hips bounced yours off the bed, his chin resting on the top of your head as you buried your face is his furry chest, tonguing at his dark, flat nipple for comfort.

“There you go love, take what you need while daddy uses this pretty cunt.”

The plap plap plap of his heavy balls against your ass is deafening. The whole room filled with the sounds of your father decimating your wet pussy–his loud grunts mixing with your pitiful squeal, “Daddy my stomach, oh my god I’m gonna throw up!”

If he heard you over the blood rushing in his ears he doesn’t say anything, instead he tangles his hands in the hair at the nape of your neck to pull your gaze back to his–watery, glazed, trusting.

Just like the day he picked you up on his doorstep.

With sloppy, hurried thrusts he presses his lips against yours and growls, “You’re the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Eyes screwing shut, you cum around him, choking his cock so hard he can barely move, instead relegated to short sloppy ruts. But it’s just as fine, because he’s deep enough that he can cum right against your cervix in sweet, hot bursts.

Price collapses on top of you, wheezing. His big body restricting your lungs.

“Daddy…can’t breathe.”

With a grunt he turns you both to the side, staying inside you to prevent any more of his cum from coming out.

“Mmm…feels good to be home.”

You don’t reply, already snoring softly with your cheek smushed against his bicep.

#🌙.txt #john price prompt #fics

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ofloveandstardust · 1 year ago

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A/N: I saw that Cain and Abel aren't like present in the show and I know they're technically Adam and Eve's kids, but let me have this please— I just wanna gush about this since it's been invading my mind.

cw: fem!reader (no pronouns, but reader is called wife/mama/mommy/mother)

Imagine: Being Adam's wife and having two sons with him.

I can definitely see him being excited over having sons. Like, hell yeah! But but but also— I have this feeling in my gut that he'd be okay with being a girl dad, sooo after having your sons he's just like "Wifey, Sugartits, Babycakes—" Any nickname under the sun until you finally ask him what he wants and he just says he wants a daughter.

You can't tell me he didn't name Abel— and 💀 It's even funnier since Abel does have a little more resemblance of his father than Cain does. Cain was named by you and looks more like you. However, you can say his attitude is similar to Adam's. I can see them both having Adam's eyes when thinking up of how they'd look, but I'm leaving things up in the air. Just for this, because I think it'd be neat, the boys are twins. Cain is the older twin while Abel is the younger one.

Cain is kind of a menace...but still a good kid. He always pulls that "Because I'm the oldest" card with Abel and if he ever whacked his brother and he started crying, Cain immediately does that thing where the sibling just panics and stops them from crying or else he's getting in trouble with mama and papa. He teases his younger brother, but will get upset if anyone tries to bully Abel. Oh, but the biggest menace he is towards? Adam. Cain doesn't hate his dad at all. No, he just prefers you more and lowkey is a mama's boy. Adam can have Mr. Perfect (Abel), but he at least has mama.

Then Adam just straight up has beef with his own son 💀 Because Cain takes up your time and he swears the little shit is taunting him when you're not looking. Cain comes up when you and Adam are kissing or anything like that, holding his hands up like, "I want Mama's kisses too... 🥺" You can't resist because that's your baby and he's so adorable. There's this stare down between Adam and Cain...meanwhile Abel, being the good bean that he is, waddles towards you all and goes, "Mama! Papa! Look what I drew! :D" and it's just a sweet little drawing of him, his brother, you and Adam.

Speaking of Abel, he's a good boi. Cain calls him Mr. Perfect sometimes because Abel has some natural talent. He's especially good with music, much to Adam's delight. Still, he looks up to his brother and despite Cain's jealousy, they do get along nicely. They have this little game where they're building their own city and decide over several elements of it. Abel somehow always brings sheep into the mix, but his brother isn't complaining.

Abel doesn't play favorites and says he loves you and Adam equally. He always wants to make sure the two of you are present at the same time when showing his accomplishments or what he's found. Speaking of which, he has special interests that last for a while until he moves on to another one or some just last a very long time. An example would be sheep, as mentioned before. He even has a lamb plushie (I can see him watching Lamb Chop's Play Along and loving the show). Cain knows how precious this little lamb is to Abel and will raise chaos if it ever gets lost or stolen (he calls the plush "The Chosen").

Here's a funny little thing: the boys not recognizing Adam in the mask he wears. From the day they were born, they always saw their father without his mask and have grown used to seeing his actual face. One day, they ask you where he was and you tell them it's work related but he'll be back to teach them some new songs. Just imagine Adam coming back, calling out that he's home, which cause the boys to rush up to him. Then they just stop because... "Mama, who's this stranger in our house!?" Abel literally starts crying— saying this isn't papa. Meanwhile Cain's mind immediately says violence is the answer (thanks, Adam). You have to calm both boys down and explain to them about the mask.

Flight lessons are stressful. It all started when Cain began jumping off of the furniture and escalated to him jumping off the bunk bed (because it'd be adorable for them to have bunk beds). So, it seems like it was time to show the boys how to use their wings. It's harder than it looks. Abel isn't okay with jumping off from anywhere unless Cain is going to jump with him. Fine with his brother because he enjoys doing this. Eventually, they're able to fly and it's a joy! They can fly around Heaven with you and Adam and it's absolutely adorable.

Cain and Abel have different ways to refer to you and Adam. Cain calls Adam 'dad' or 'papa' but does call him 'father' when he's upset or serious. Meanwhile, he calls you 'mama', 'mommy', or 'mom' (mom is more frequent when around others or strangers) and it's rare when he calls you mother. Abel just calls you two mama and papa. He'll only use mother and father if he's around people he doesn't know or meeting for the first time.

I have more thoughts about these little beans such as how they are around Lute (#1 and only Babysitter), Emily (Abel affectionately calls her Auntie Em), Sera and possibly Lucifer and Charlie (because you can't tell me Adam would not brag about having kids 💀). Like, I can see Cain being brutally honest when he first sees Lucifer because he's that type of kid. Will 100% make a comment about the man's height. There's also the fact that both boys are into music like their father. Abel once asked, "So if that's Queen, then who's the King?" when Adam tells them about Queen. Also, I can very much see Cain getting into gardening. If you want more of these then let me know!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel fluff #adam x reader #adam x you #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel

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the-s1lly-corner · 5 days ago

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Cuddling TADC cast

Been a minute since I've written an entire cast shot for TADC-- dont expect this to be a common thing again

Notes: gn reader, short and sweet, written on computer, Canon character focused, im sure ive already written this a loooooooong time ago but blah blah blah feeling like its been long enough to warrant a rewrite esp as new episodes have likely come out between then and now

CWs: mentions of body dysmorphia in zoobles part, mentions of loss in kingers part as well as struggles with memory

CAINE

LOVE love loves cuddling with you- hes never actually cuddled another person... bubble doesnt count and thats more of like... comical clinging hug than actual cuddling!

odds are youre physically larger than him but thats not going to stop him being big spoon- definitely has the traditional "men need to be the one in that position" not because he feels he NEEDS to as a man... he just likes feeling like youre personal protector- your man, your guy, your... uhuhuh... yeah!

he sometimes like to cuddle you mid air... hope youre not afraid of heights and the odd feeling of defying physics!

POMNI

again, odds are youre larger than her. she seems more of a little spoon person... though she strikes me as the type to be an awkward cuddler. she doesnt really know where to put her hands- even if its far from the first time youve cuddled into one another

i love her, and she loves you- but pomni looks like the type of person to run uncomfortably hot and doesnt like being touched because of it... clammy and gross feeling, doesnt like it. dont touch her she will get irritated from the feel... its not that she doesnt like you she just doesnt like feeling sweaty

compromises by holding your hand in bed... looping your fingers together as you sleep feels... more tender honestly...

RAGATHA

shes soft and plush- of course she is, shes a doll! definitely has some weight to her... sleeping with her arm wrapped around you is so comforting, genuinely the best sleep youve gotten in a while

she also vaguely smells like berries! so thats a bonus! she totally gets it if you nestle your face into her hair and drift off smelling her! sure its a little quirky but shes not going to judge you for it... honestly if you smelled nice like that she might do the same

no big spoon/little spoon thing... you two mostly just cling onto one another in the bed by any means necessary

JAX

only ever cuddles you when he knows for a fact other people arent going to come in and see him like this. i still stand firm that he hates being seen as soft and vulnerable. even letting himself indulge in stuff like this in an unapologetically tender and sincere way for YOU takes some time

and even then hes most likely to shift into you and cuddle if youre asleep, unable to perceive his rare moment of just... being soft.

he doesnt like being little spoon though, even without the vulnerability stuff

hes kind of sticky.. hes not fluffy in my mind. hes like those rubber squishy toys

KINGER

its... nice holding someone again... but when was the last time hes held someone? why does it feels so familiar but so different- it wasnt you in his arms before was it? it was... someone else, wasnt it? ...hes hardly in the moment long enough most of the time to really dwell on it

he likes being the big spoon- keeping you in his arms... er... hands... makes him feel anchored, calmer. he knows hes missed this even if he cant quite pin point why

but... he kind of melts right into you when you turn it back on him and make him the little spoon. its like seeing a stunned animal relax into comfort

GANGLE

cuddling with her can be a little... hard.. shes made of ribbon so there isnt much to hold and she doesnt have much weight to her... it.. definitely is a sore topic for her. it makes her feel like shes falling short somewhere. like she cant properly cuddle you

even holding her bundled up in your arms doesnt feel right, and shes going to pull away the entire time- doesnt want to waste your efforts even if you try to reassure her... times like this call for creativity--

wrapping her ribbons around you might be a little unconventional... and might lead to tangling- but its something, and its something only you two can do.. no one else! its special and unique to your relationship specifically.. word it like that to her and she'll cheer up a bit!

ZOOBLE

they dont... much care for cuddling. for multiple reasons. partly because its just not for them, and partly because it forces them to actively become aware of what their body is like... the shape, the textures... its all a bit much...

but zooble doesnt want to make you feel rejected- its a hard situation all around. they are going to at least talk to you about it so youre not left in the dark... though it might take a while for them to bring it up

they much prefer non physical intimacy anyways- even prior to the circus. acts of service, talking, spending time. things like that mean more to them

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oceandolores · 8 months ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 13

dbf!joel miller x female reader

"Beautiful people, beautiful problems."

summary: both of you and joel still feel the shadows from your past and...a mysterious man...

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 13

masterlist!

previous | chapter 12

next | chapter 14

The warm, sultry air of Louisiana clung to your skin as Joel eased the truck into the grand driveway of the hotel. The fading sunlight bathed the building in a soft, golden hue, casting long shadows over the narrow streets of New Orleans. The hotel stood like a relic of a bygone era—elegant, stately, and dripping in the charm of the 1920s. Wrought-iron balconies curled around its façade, their intricate designs reminiscent of a time when craftsmanship was an art form. Tall, arched windows, framed by deep green shutters, gave the place an air of mystery, while the soft glow of gas lanterns flickered against the approaching twilight, welcoming you into a world where time seemed to slow down.

Joel parked and turned to you with a knowing smile, catching the awe in your eyes as you took in the opulence. “What do you think?” His voice was warm and easy, like the honeyed notes of a Southern drawl.

You exhaled, still mesmerized by the hotel’s vintage charm. “It’s beautiful, Joel. Feels like stepping into another time.”

He chuckled softly, the sound deep and comforting. “Only the best for you, darlin’.”

You stepped out of the truck, the cool tiles beneath your shoes a stark contrast to the heat lingering in the air. Together, you began unloading the bags, your hands brushing his as you reached for the same suitcase. His touch, steady and reassuring, anchored you in this unfamiliar, yet intoxicatingly beautiful place. The hotel, with its antique grandeur and whispers of a decadent past, made you feel both lost and found all at once.

As Joel handed the last bag to the bellhop, you let your gaze wander. The lobby was a perfect blend of sophistication and old-world elegance. Polished marble floors gleamed under the soft light of crystal chandeliers, their glow casting a golden shimmer across the room. The furniture—plush velvet armchairs in deep, jewel tones—was arranged in intimate clusters, as if inviting whispered conversations and stolen moments. A baby grand piano, aged and stately, sat silently in one corner, as if waiting for the night to bring music and life to its keys. The quiet hum of voices, paired with the soft clink of glasses from the bar, added to the atmosphere of quiet luxury.

Joel, noticing your awe, smiled wider. “Go on, have a seat. I’ll grab the keys,” he said, nodding towards the seating area. “I’ve already made the reservation online.”

You settled into a velvet armchair near a set of towering windows that looked out onto a lush courtyard. The ironwork from the balconies extended here, wrapping around the garden where ferns and jasmine climbed the walls, filling the air with their sweet scent. The atmosphere was a mix of tranquility and hidden stories, as if each corner held secrets from a hundred years ago.

While Joel checked in, you let your eyes drift across the room—the shimmering marble, the vintage chandeliers casting a soft, romantic light, and the fresh flowers that added pops of color to the rich, muted tones of the décor.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted someone—an older man, perhaps in his 50s, with a salt-and-pepper beard and wearing a black leather jacket. He was standing near the entrance, leaning casually against the wall. There was something familiar about him, though you couldn’t quite place it. His eyes were on you, and when your gazes met, he smiled—a small, almost knowing smile—and nodded in your direction.

You glanced behind you, thinking that maybe he was acknowledging someone else, but there was no one there. Your heart skipped a beat, an uneasy feeling settling in your chest. Despite the oddness of it, you smiled back, trying to be polite. But there was something in his eyes, something that sent a chill down your spine, though you couldn’t figure out why.

He looked like he wanted to say something, his lips parting as if he was trying to speak to you from afar. But before you could make sense of it, you heard Joel’s voice, warm and reassuring, pulling your attention back to him.

“Got the key,” Joel said, walking towards you with a satisfied smile on his face. You turned back to where the man had been standing, but he was gone. The spot where he had been was empty, as if he had never been there at all.

You blinked, your mind racing. Had you imagined it? Or was it just a trick of the light? But the unease lingered, a faint shadow in the back of your mind. You wanted to mention it to Joel, but something held you back, the moment passing as quickly as it had come.

“Everything alright?” Joel asked, noticing the slight frown on your face as he handed you the room key.

You forced a smile, pushing the strange encounter to the back of your mind. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

He reached out, his hand brushing against your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring. “Good,” he said, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he led the way toward the elevator. “Let’s get settled in, and then we can figure out what to do for dinner.”

You felt the weight of the day beginning to lift, but there was still that sense of stickiness clinging to your skin, the remnants of the journey. “I need a shower,” you said, almost sheepishly.

Joel nodded, a teasing glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, pretending to take a deep whiff. He scrunched up his nose in mock disgust. “Yeah, you sure do, darlin’,” he said, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Smellin’ like a long road trip in the middle of summer.”

You smacked his arm lightly, unable to suppress a laugh. “You’re so mean.”

His laughter joined yours, rich and comforting, echoing in the grand hallway of the hotel. The bellboy appeared to help with your bags, his polite demeanor contrasting with Joel’s playful teasing. As the three of you stepped into the elevator, the smooth hum of it moving upward felt like the beginning of something new—a journey you had only just embarked on, with so many more miles to go.

Joel turned to you as the elevator doors closed, his expression softening. “So, what do you wanna do while we’re here in New Orleans?"

You shook your head, smiling shyly. "I follow you, Joel. It’s my first time out of… well, you know. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

He gave you a look filled with warmth, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Then we’ll make sure your first time’s unforgettable. Music and the foods, You’re gonna love it.”

***

After shower, You changed quickly, and soon enough, the two of you were out on the streets, hand in hand, the world around you pulsing with energy. The French Quarter was alive—vibrant colors, wrought-iron balconies covered in creeping ivy, the smell of spicy Cajun food mingling with the sweet, smoky air.

Street performers played jazz, the music dancing through the air like something you could reach out and touch. It felt surreal, like you were stepping into a movie, every moment dripping with possibility.

Joel led the way, his grip firm but gentle on your hand. “You ever hear music like this before?” he asked, glancing at you with a soft smile.

“No,” you replied, wide-eyed, trying to soak it all in. “It’s beautiful. It’s like… it fills the air, like it’s a part of the city itself.”

He nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd, ever protective, but he kept his tone light. “Yeah, Feels alive, doesn’t it?”

You smiled, but that same uneasy feeling crept up again. It was subtle, like a whisper in the back of your mind. The crowd, the noise, the rush of the city—it all felt too much for a moment. You glanced around, your eyes scanning the faces of strangers passing by, and there it was again. That feeling.

You tried to shake it off, but something about it gnawed at you. The man from the hotel lobby flashed in your mind—the way he looked at you, too familiar, too knowing. You felt a shiver crawl up your spine as if he could be watching you even now.

Joel must have sensed your discomfort because he squeezed your hand a little tighter, pulling you closer. “You alright?” he asked, his voice low, concerned.

“Yeah, I just... It’s nothing," you said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. Joel studied you for a moment longer, his brow furrowing in concern, his gaze soft but questioning.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice gentle, the warmth in his eyes wrapping around you like a soft blanket. "Babe?"

You nodded quickly, pushing away the thoughts swirling in your head. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, feeling the words stick in your throat like sand. "Maybe just tired. I don’t know. It’s been a long day."

Joel’s eyes lingered on you, searching for the truth beneath your words. “Maybe we should head back to the hotel,” he suggested, concern lacing his voice. “You could use some rest, and we can grab a bite there.”

You shook your head, not wanting to ruin the moment, not wanting to burden him with your worries. He was already carrying so much, and the last thing you wanted was to add more weight to his shoulders.

"No, no," you said, forcing a small laugh. "I'm fine, really. I want to explore this town with you. Just the two of us. Let's keep going."

Joel hesitated, his protective instincts kicking in, but he eventually relented, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Alright. But if you start feelin’ tired, you tell me, okay?”

You nodded again, trying to push away the lingering unease that clung to you like a shadow. The feeling of being watched, of someone’s eyes burning into the back of your neck, wouldn’t go away, but you didn’t want to tell Joel.

You didn’t want to add more to his already heavy heart, didn’t want to give life to the quiet fear that still lurked inside you—the fear that one day, your father might come and tear Joel away from you. That he’d come and steal this happiness, this safety, this love you’d found with Joel.

Sometimes, that fear still gripped you, like a hand squeezing your throat, making it hard to breathe.

It haunted your quiet moments, that dark corner in your mind where your father’s voice still echoed, telling you that you weren’t enough, that you didn’t deserve love.

But with Joel, you felt whole, like you finally had something that was yours.

You glanced at Joel, his strong presence beside you anchoring you to this moment. Maybe you were just imagining things--the man-- just like your father’s lingering shadow.

The man in the hotel lobby, the feeling of being watched... it was probably all in your head. You were just on edge, your mind playing tricks on you.

But still, you couldn’t shake the feeling. You were sure you had seen him before, though you couldn’t remember where. But, you didn’t want to dwell on it. Not now. Not when you were here with Joel, trying to enjoy this fleeting moment of peace together.

Joel’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. “You really okay, though?"

You smiled softly, shaking your head. “I’m fine, Joel. Really."

He smiled, a slow, easy smile that made your heart feel lighter. “Okay."

As you walked side by side through the vibrant streets of New Orleans, the city seemed to come alive around you.

You took a deep breath, trying to let the warmth of the night soothe you, trying to focus on Joel’s steady presence beside you. His hand slipped into yours again, his fingers lacing through yours like they belonged there, and for a moment, the world felt right again. You held onto that feeling, clinging to it like a lifeline, pushing away the shadows and the fear.

As the two of you strolled down the lively streets, you glanced up at Joel and said, “I’m getting kinda hungry.”

Joel smirked and gave your hand a playful squeeze. “Well, lucky for you, we’re in the land of good food. How ‘bout we stop at the next place that catches our eye?”

You smiled, feeling the tension ease a little. Just being with him made you feel safer, like everything was going to be okay. “Sounds good to me.”

A few blocks later, you spotted a cozy-looking restaurant tucked between two colorful buildings. The windows were lined with flickering candles, and the smell of rich, spicy food wafted out every time the door opened. Joel nodded towards it. “What do you think? Cajun food might hit the spot.”

You grinned, already imagining the warmth of gumbo or jambalaya. “Let’s do it.”

Once inside, the restaurant felt intimate, filled with the low hum of chatter, the clink of silverware, and the occasional burst of laughter. Joel guided you to a table near the back, and as you sat down, he gave the menu a quick glance before turning his attention to you.

The two of you bantered back and forth, finally Joel ordered for both of you, suggesting dishes you couldn’t even pronounce. You watched him, his hands gesturing as he spoke, his voice soft and easy. There was something calming about how natural everything felt with him.

As you both waited for the food, the warmth of Joel’s hand covered yours on the table. His thumb lazily traced circles against your skin, a gesture so small but filled with tenderness.

You looked at him and asked softly, “After this, where do we go next?”

Joel leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowing slightly as he thought. "Hmm," he mused, glancing around the bustling restaurant as if searching for an answer in the air.

“Well, darlin', where do ya wanna go? We could just keep drivin'. Maybe head to Alabama, or...” His voice trailed off, and he gave you a smile that softened all the edges of his rugged face. “Maybe even stop somewhere near the Gulf. Find ourselves a beach, relax for a bit.”

Your eyes lit up at the thought. “That sounds perfect.”

Joel chuckled, the sound deep and low. “We’ll just take it one town at a time. Motel to motel, ‘cross the states, just you and me.” He squeezed your hand gently, his voice turning more thoughtful. “Eventually, we’ll make our way to California. Like our plan."

The thought of it made your heart race. Just you and Joel, together, no one to come between you. “I’d like that,” you whispered, smiling softly.

You were about to say something more when the question bubbled up inside you, almost catching you by surprise. You hesitated for a moment before asking,

“Joel... do you miss Ellie?”

His grip on your hand faltered for a second, just long enough for you to notice. Joel's eyes darkened, and for a moment, he looked away, his jaw tight, the memories of Ellie lingering in the corners of his mind. He stayed silent for what felt like minutes but was only a few seconds, before nodding slowly.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his voice thick. “I do. Very much."

You could feel the weight in his words, the ache that he tried so hard to bury. Ellie was a part of him, in the same way you were becoming. And even though he tried to keep her at arm's length to protect himself, that love—Joel’s fierce, unyielding love—was something that couldn’t be silenced.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you said quietly, guilt bubbling up inside you. “I didn’t mean to take you away from her.”

Joel squeezed your hand again, this time more firmly. His eyes softened as he looked at you, all traces of tension melting away. “Stop that,” he murmured, shaking his head. “This ain’t your fault. None of this is.”

You bit your lip, but the words tumbled out anyway. “But—”

“No,” he interrupted gently but firmly. “You didn’t ask for any of this. You didn’t do nothin’ wrong.” He leaned in, his forehead almost touching yours, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’d go through hell to keep you safe, babygirl. And I’d do it all over again if I had to.”

His words hit you like a prayer—like an old psalm sung at dusk, filled with the weight of promise and sacrifice. Joel had become your protector, your keeper, like an Old Testament shepherd guarding his flock. And though you were not without your own strength, you knew that in his arms, you had found your refuge.

Without thinking, you leaned forward and kissed him, your lips pressing softly against his in a way that felt both new and familiar. Joel kissed you back with a quiet intensity, his hand resting on your cheek, the world around you fading into the background.

For the first time, you weren’t afraid of being caught. The street, the noise, the people—it all disappeared in that moment.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Joel smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Beautiful girl, my beautiful girl."

But before you could answer, something on the TV in the corner of the restaurant caught your eye. It was a news report, the kind you usually ignored, but this time it made your stomach twist.

Pastor Ben and Jamie Lee.

Both missing. Their faces flashed on the screen as the anchor discussed their sudden disappearance and the ongoing search.

"Oh my god."

You stared at the screen, feeling the air shift around you. Jamie Lee—his name alone was enough to bring back memories you had tried so hard to bury.

You hated him for what he had done, for the pain and humiliation he’d caused. But despite everything, a part of you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy.

After all, forgiveness was what you’d been taught all your life. Turn the other cheek. Forgive those who trespass against you.

Still, it was hard to reconcile that Christian kindness with the anger that bubbled inside you. Jamie had sinned, deeply. If anyone deserved to be lost, it was him.

Joel noticed your sudden stillness and followed your gaze to the TV. His expression darkened, but he said nothing, just watched. You couldn’t see the storm brewing behind his eyes, the fear and guilt clawing at his chest.

He had done what he thought was right—what he had to do. But now, with their faces plastered on the screen, the weight of his actions pressed heavily on him.

You whispered, almost to yourself, “I hated him. But... no one deserves to just disappear like that. Not even him.”

Joel stayed silent, his grip tightening around your hand, his pulse thrumming beneath his skin like a distant drumbeat. He wanted to tell you, to let you know that he had done this for you—for your safety, for your peace. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Not yet.

Joel’s heart ached with a weight that was impossible to shake, even as your words hung in the air between you like a fragile thread. I hated him. But... no one deserves to just disappear like that. Not even him. He swallowed hard, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon beyond the courtyard.

You didn’t know. You couldn’t know.

Joel’s mind churned beneath the surface, a storm no one could see. The truth of what he’d done was buried deep—buried like Jamie and Pastor Ben, like the bodies he’d laid to rest in the dark soil, far away from your innocence, your gentle heart. He’d done it for you, every twisted, violent act a means of protecting you from men who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.

Joel’s pulse beat heavy beneath his skin, the thrum of it like a drum, steady and relentless, as memories played behind his eyes. The sharp edge of the shovel digging into earth. The crack of bone. The blood, The silence afterward, so thick it felt like drowning. He had been methodical, precise. He’d done worse in his life—he’d done what he had to do, and this was no different.

"Joel?" You ask him, because he seems like he lost in his own thought, "Are you okay?" you ask again.

Joel blinked, dragged back to the present by the sound of your voice, soft and concerned. He turned to you, his jaw tightening before he loosened it, forcing the tension out of his muscles. He hadn’t realized how far he’d slipped—back into those dark corners of his mind where the past bled into the present, where every sound and every silence reminded him of what he’d done, of the graves he’d dug.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

But you weren’t convinced. You tilted your head, your eyes searching his face, looking for something he didn’t want you to find. “Are you tired? We can take the food back to our hotel," you said.

Joel shook his head, offering you a quick, reassuring smile. "No, no, it's fine," he said, his voice steady. “We’ll eat here.”

Moments later, the food arrived, and you both shared a quiet, peaceful meal together. The evening was warm, the hum of jazz floating through the air as the city bustled around you. After dinner, you strolled hand-in-hand through the streets of New Orleans, the city alive with music and energy. The twinkling lights, the sound of laughter, and the scent of spices in the air made it feel like a dream. You had fun, really let go, and it felt like Joel did too—his laughter mixing with yours, his eyes softening when they met yours.

But when you returned to the hotel, the warmth faded as you began to unwind. You changed into comfortable clothes, wiped away your makeup, and kept chatting with Joel from the bathroom, the door cracked open so he could hear you. You told him about the jazz show, about the new friends you’d made with him by your side. The night felt alive in your words, full of joy, but after a while, you noticed the silence from the other side of the room.

“Joel?” you called, your voice carrying a little more concern. You stepped out of the bathroom and saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, staring off into space. His hands were clasped tightly in his lap, his broad shoulders tense, his whole body still, like a statue weighed down by invisible chains.

“Joel, what’s wrong?” you asked, walking over to him, kneeling in front of him so you could see his face. “Did I do something wrong?”

His eyes flicked back to you, as if pulling himself from some dark place in his mind. His brow furrowed, and he quickly shook his head, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “No, no, baby,” he murmured, his voice strained but soft. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You held his gaze, feeling the unease creeping into your chest. “Then what is it?” you pressed gently. “Are you sick?”

Joel opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. How could he explain the storm raging inside him? The news he’d seen earlier—reports of missing people, whispers of investigations—it sent a chill down his spine.

He couldn’t shake the thought that maybe it wouldn’t be long before the police found where he had buried Jamie and Pastor Ben. Maybe it wouldn’t be long before they came for him, before they tore him from you, or worse—before they dragged you back to your father, back to the hell he had tried so hard to save you from.

Inside his mind, the thoughts churned like a rising tide, each one more suffocating than the last. He saw it all—the flash of blue lights, the handcuffs tightening around his wrists, your face crumbling as they led him away.

He imagined you back in that house, imagined the way you’d be stripped of the freedom and love he’d tried to give you.

He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.

But he couldn’t tell you any of this.

The truth was like a sickness in him, spreading through his veins, poisoning everything it touched. Every moment with you was a borrowed one. The walls felt like they were closing in, and no matter how much he wanted to pull you close and keep you safe, the fear of what could come next gnawed at him relentlessly.

“Joel?” your voice brought him back again, your hand resting on his knee, warm and gentle. “Please, talk to me. I know something’s wrong.”

He let out a long, shaky breath, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. “I just… got a lot on my mind, sweetheart,” he said quietly, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Nothin’ for you to worry about.”

But you could see it—the heaviness in his expression, the way his body tensed like he was carrying a weight too heavy for one man alone.

“You sure?” you asked again, your voice a whisper now, full of concern. “I can help. I’m here.”

"Joel. It's both of us now against the world. Just you and me. I will be with you no matter what, Joel."

Joel’s heart clenched at your words. The truth in your voice, the unwavering loyalty, wrapped around him like a lifeline. He wanted to believe it—to hold onto the idea that with you, he could face anything.

But the weight of what he had done, the fear of what might come, pressed down like a crushing force. He couldn’t risk destroying this fragile happiness, this fleeting freedom that both of you had fought so hard to claim.

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his, so full of love, of trust. Joel wanted to give you everything—his heart, his soul, his truth. But not yet.

His love for you was too deep, too raw, and the fear of losing you, of losing this, gnawed at him in ways he couldn’t put into words.

Instead of speaking, Joel cupped your face, his rough hands trembling slightly as they held you. The silence between you grew thick, but his lips found yours—softly at first, as if he were testing the waters, afraid of losing himself in you completely.

But the kiss deepened, and something inside him snapped. It wasn’t just desire, it was a desperate need—an overwhelming, aching need to feel alive, to drown out the darkness clawing at him from every corner.

He kissed you like a man starved, pouring every unspoken fear, every unexpressed emotion into that moment. His lips moved with a fierce, breathless intensity, his hands tracing the curves of your body, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

"Joel..." You moan as his touch was urgent, seeking comfort, seeking release from the turmoil spinning in his head.

Joel’s breath hitched at the sound of your voice, his name tumbling from your lips in a way that sent a shiver down his spine. His hands slid up your body, fingers tracing the soft lines of your waist, your hips, the curve of your thighs. His touch was rough, desperate, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he needed you to drown out everything else.

"Say it again," he growled against your neck, his lips brushing your skin as he pressed his body against yours. His breath was hot, his voice low and gravelly. "Say my name again, baby."

"Joel..." you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him even closer, your heart racing as the heat between you grew. His mouth found yours again, and this time, the kiss was hungrier, deeper—like he was claiming you, like he needed this, needed you to ground him, to remind him that this was real.

His hands roamed, exploring every inch of you, each touch more possessive than the last. "You feel so good," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "I need you... right now, baby."

You arched into him, your body responding to his every touch, his every word. “Joel… I need you too.”

He groaned softly, his mouth trailing down your neck, his hands slipping under the fabric of your shirt, lifting it higher until it was tossed aside. He kissed you again, harder, more intense, his body pressing you into the mattress, every movement filled with the weight of his need.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice rough and ragged, full of a quiet possessiveness as he kissed your collarbone, then lower, his hands gripping your hips, steadying you beneath him. "You understand? Mine."

"Yes," you whispered back, your voice trembling with want, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. "Yours, yours only, daddy."

You realize when you said that, your eyes widened, face red. The word slipped out before you could stop it—daddy—and as soon as it did, your eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat.

Heat rushed to your face, your cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. You hadn’t meant to say it, not like that, but the way Joel had been touching you, the way he made you feel so safe and wanted, it just… came out.

For a moment, there was a stunned silence, Joel’s lips hovering just above your skin. Then, his eyes darkened, and a low, gravelly chuckle escaped his throat. He tilted his head up, looking down at you with an intensity that sent a shiver through your whole body.

“Oh, baby…” His voice was deeper now, rough with desire. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips grazed your ear. “What did you just call me?”

You swallowed, heart pounding in your chest. “I–I didn’t mean—”

But Joel cut you off, his mouth crashing against yours in a bruising kiss, his grip tightening as if he couldn’t get enough of you. When he finally pulled back, his gaze burned into yours. “Say it again,” he demanded softly, his voice laced with something dark, possessive.

"Say it for daddy."

Your pulse raced, your body tingling under his touch. “Daddy…” you whispered, breathless, the word trembling from your lips.

Joel groaned, his hands roaming over your body with renewed hunger, the heat between you intensifying. “That’s my good girl,” he growled against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

“You like calling me that, huh? Feels right, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, a soft moan escaping your throat as his hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him. “Yes… daddy.”

He growled again, his teeth grazing your shoulder as his hands wandered lower, claiming every inch of you like he was staking his claim.

“You’re mine, baby. All mine,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he kissed his way down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. “I’m gonna take care of you, make you feel so good.”

Joel’s breath was ragged as he leaned back, his eyes dark with hunger as he reached for the condom, tearing the wrapper with his teeth. His gaze never left yours, the intensity in his eyes making your heart race even faster.

You watched, your body trembling with anticipation as he rolled it on, his jaw clenched with restraint. He was trying to hold back, but you could see how much he needed this—how much he needed you.

He hovered over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I’m not gonna be gentle tonight, baby. I need you too much.” His voice was low, rough, full of a barely contained edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, your breath catching as his hand slid between your thighs, teasing you, making you gasp. "I can take it," you whispered, your voice breathless with want. "I want you, Joel... I need you."

With a growl, Joel positioned himself, his grip tightening on your hips. He entered you slowly, but even then, the sheer force of it made you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as your body adjusted to him. The pressure was overwhelming, the stretch sending shockwaves of pleasure through you as he filled you completely.

“Goddamn, you feel so good,” Joel grunted, his teeth grazing your neck as he moved deeper, setting a rough, desperate pace. He couldn’t hold back, his need too great, the weight of everything pressing down on him pouring into every thrust. “So tight, baby… so perfect.”

You moaned his name, your body arching beneath him, each movement sending pleasure spiraling through you. His hands gripped your waist, holding you steady as he moved harder, faster, his body pressing you into the mattress.

Every thrust was deep, forceful, as if he was trying to chase away the demons that haunted him, burying his fear and paranoia in the way he claimed you.

“My beautiful girl, such a good girl you are.” he growled, his lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss, swallowing your moans. “No one else gets you like this. Only me. You’re mine, baby.”

You could only nod, lost in the sensation, your body responding to every rough touch, every demanding kiss. “Yes… Joel… only you…” you gasped, your voice trembling with pleasure as he took you over the edge, his rhythm relentless, his grip possessive.

He groaned deeply as his pace quickened, the tension in his body coiling tighter with each thrust. “I’m never letting you go,” he rasped, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot and ragged.

“Never.”

Your body tightened around him, the intensity of his movements pushing you closer to your breaking point. You moaned his name again, the sound filling the room as you clung to him, your heart pounding in your chest.

Joel's grip tightened on your hips, and the bed creaked beneath the force of his movements, each thrust rougher than the last. The headboard knocked against the wall in rhythm, and your moans filled the room, mingling with the sound of his ragged breathing.

The pressure of his body against yours was overwhelming, and yet, even in the roughness, there was a tenderness, a care in the way his lips found yours between every deep, hard thrust.

“Joel...” you gasped, your voice shaking as your fingers dug into his shoulders, trying to anchor yourself against the intensity. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, the roughness somehow exactly what you needed.

Every time he moved, it sent you closer to the edge, your body tightening around him, the friction almost unbearable.

“You’re so perfect,” Joel growled against your lips, his mouth claiming yours in a fierce kiss. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly against your skin, a stark contrast to the way his body pounded into you. “So damn perfect, baby... Can’t get enough of you.”

The bedframe rattled against the wall as he thrust harder, the sound only heightening the heat building between you. Your back arched, your head tipping back as you moaned his name again, your body trembling beneath him. “Joel... oh God...”

He kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans, his lips rough but full of passion as he gripped you tighter. “I’ve got you,” he rasped between kisses, his breath hot against your mouth. “You’re safe with me, baby. Always.”

Even though his movements were rough, almost desperate, he made sure you were okay—his lips constantly finding yours, his hands steadying your body, his murmured reassurances grounding you in the midst of the intensity.

You felt the pressure building inside you, your whole body tightening as you clung to him, every nerve ending on fire as he pushed you closer to him.

The pressure inside you coiled tighter, your body trembling as the pleasure built, inching you closer to the edge with each of Joel’s rough, relentless thrusts. Your eyes fluttered shut, lost in the overwhelming sensation, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

“Joel... I’m so close...” you moaned, your voice barely a whisper, your body arching beneath him.

But Joel’s hand moved to your chin, tilting your face toward him, his dark eyes filled with intensity as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Look at me,” he growled softly, his voice rough with desire. “Open your eyes, baby. I want you to look at me when you cum.”

His words sent a jolt of heat through you, making your heart race even faster. You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze, the connection between you sparking like electricity. His eyes were dark, hungry, filled with so much need that it made your whole body tremble.

“That's it,” Joel murmured, his pace quickening, thrusting deeper, harder. The bedframe rattled against the wall as his hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you closer to him, pushing you right to the brink. “Stay with me, darlin’. I wanna see you fall apart for me.”

Your breath hitched, your body tightening even more as the intensity of his movements pushed you to the edge. His eyes never left yours, and the way he was looking at you—like you were everything he needed—made you feel like you were unraveling beneath him.

“Joel... oh my God...” you moaned, your voice shaking as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your entire body shuddered, your nails digging into his back as you came, your eyes locked with his the whole time, just like he asked.

Joel let out a low, guttural groan as he felt you tighten around him, his own control slipping. “That’s my girl,” he rasped, his lips brushing against yours, his voice thick with desire. “So beautiful...”

He thrust into you harder, chasing his own release, and with a deep, broken moan, he followed you over the edge, his body shaking as he came, holding you close like he couldn’t bear to let go.

"Fuck!"

Joel cursed under his breath, his chest heaving as both of you struggled to catch your breath. His body trembled as he pulled out of you, quickly disposing of the condom and tossing it aside. When you started to shift, thinking it was over, his strong hand gripped your thigh, keeping your legs open.

“Who said I’m done?” he growled, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes widened in surprise, your heart pounding all over again as you watched him, your body still sensitive from the intensity of before.

Joel leaned down, kissing a trail across your stomach, his lips dangerously close to the heat between your thighs. His breath was hot against your skin, and your pulse raced as he moved lower, his hands spreading your legs wider.

“Joel...oh my God,” you whispered, your voice breathless, but he didn’t respond with words. Instead, his mouth found the soft skin just above your core, kissing and teasing until you were trembling beneath him again, your hands gripping the sheets.

He looked up at you through hooded eyes, his hands firmly holding your hips in place as his lips hovered over your most sensitive spot. “I wanna hear you moan my name again,” he murmured, his voice rough with lust.

“Louder this time.”

And then, without warning, his mouth was on you, his tongue teasing you with slow, deliberate strokes, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. You gasped, your back arching as you moaned his name, your fingers tangling in his hair as he devoured you like he couldn’t get enough.

“Oh God, Joel,” you cried, your body trembling, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of sensation. He was relentless, his mouth moving with expert precision, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you as you writhed beneath him, completely at his mercy.

Joel groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core, and you moaned even louder, your body tightening again as the pleasure built all over. He looked up, eyes dark with need, watching every reaction, every moan as he drove you closer to the edge once more.

Joel’s fingers joined in, sliding inside you with a slow, deliberate thrust that made your whole body jolt. His mouth stayed on you, his tongue moving in sync with the rhythm of his fingers, fast and relentless. The sensation was overwhelming, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

Your legs trembled uncontrollably, the intensity almost too much to handle. "Oh God, Joel!" you cried out, your voice shaking as your body arched off the bed, your hands clutching at the sheets as if you were holding on for dear life. His fingers were fast, his tongue even faster, and it felt like you were on the verge of falling apart all over again.

“That's it, baby,” Joel rasped against your skin, his voice thick with desire. “Let go for me.”

Your eyes rolled back, the heat coiling tight in your belly, spreading through your limbs like fire. You couldn’t stop the moans spilling from your lips, couldn’t stop the way your hips moved desperately against his hand, chasing that release you craved.

“Joel... I— I can’t...” you gasped, your voice trembling as you felt yourself nearing the edge, your body overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch.

“You can, darlin’,” he growled, his eyes never leaving your face as he pressed deeper, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot. “Cum for me.”

His words were the final push you needed. With a cry of his name, you shattered beneath him, your entire body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Your legs trembled uncontrollably, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you lost yourself in the sensation, the world spinning around you.

Joel didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from you until you were completely spent, your body trembling, utterly at his mercy.

Finally, Joel pulled back, his lips lingering on your inner thigh before he released a satisfied breath. Just as you thought he was done, he spit softly on your sensitive core, making your body jolt with surprise.

Without hesitation, his mouth was back on you, licking slowly, savoring every reaction he pulled from you. The sensation was too much, your overstimulated body trembling as his tongue tasted you again.

He worked his way up, his lips trailing kisses over your stomach, then your breasts, before finally reaching your mouth. He kissed you deeply, and you could taste yourself on his lips, the intimate mix of your desire on his tongue.

It was raw, electric, and it made your heart race all over again.

As his mouth moved against yours, you felt the weight of his body pressing into you, his hands holding you steady, his fingers trailing over your skin like he owned every part of you. “You taste so good,” he whispered against your lips, his voice husky with lust.

You gasped softly, your hands clutching his shoulders as you kissed him back, feeling the intoxicating mixture of you on his mouth. "Joel..." you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, still dazed from everything he’d just done to you.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low, teasing. His lips ghosted over your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Tell me, baby, you like tasting yourself on my lips?"

You chuckles at his tease and nodded, your cheeks flushing, unable to form coherent words as his mouth claimed yours again in a fierce, demanding kiss.

His tongue teased yours, making you feel every inch of the connection between you. His hands roamed your body possessively, grounding you in the moment, and as he kissed you deeper, he left no doubt in your mind that you were his.

“Let’s go to sleep, baby,” Joel murmured against your lips, his voice soothing, still laced with the remnants of the heated moment you’d just shared.

He pulled away slightly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes softening as he looked down at you.

You nodded, still feeling the warmth radiating from your body, but a sense of comfort washed over you at the thought of resting beside him. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice still thick with emotion.

As he settled beside you, you turned onto your side, facing him. The room was dim, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over his features.

You could see the tiredness etched on his face, the weight of everything that had happened still lingering in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You wanted to make sure he was alright, even after everything. “You seemed a little lost there for a moment.”

He paused, the moment stretching between you as he considered his response. “I'm fine, doll.” He brushed his thumb over your cheek, grounding you both in the intimacy of the moment. “Being here with you is more anough for me,”

You felt a smile tug at your lips, a warmth blooming in your chest at his words. “I want to be here for you, Joel. You don’t have to go through everything alone.”

He nodded, his expression turning serious. “I know, and I appreciate that more than you know, baby.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Just promise me you’ll stay close. I don’t want to lose you.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, but you pushed the fear away, focusing on the warmth of his body next to yours. “I promise,” you said, your voice steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”

With that, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close against him. The world outside faded away, and for that moment, all that mattered was the comfort of each other’s presence.

As you settled into his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat began to lull you into a sense of security, a cocoon of safety that you had longed for.

“Goodnight, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you drifted off to sleep, your dreams filled with warmth and the unshakeable bond between you and Joel.

"Night, Joel."

***

and im back, wazzup people! ENJOY SOME SMUT CUS WHY NOT! strongly suggest listen to heaven by julia michaels and cherry by lana del rey

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