#HBO: Girls

[clqoo]

pretty boy 🫶

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Welp, if JK Rowling being executive producer and therefore being fully involved in the show wasn't enough for people to boycott, then here's HBO basically saying they don't care JK Rowling is a bigot from hell who literally helped lead a harassment campaign of lies against Imane Khalif in her transphobia and obsession with women being terf's standards of women alongside posting harassment against trans people on twitter at times, they gonna stand by her, while using the excuse, "personal views". Hmm, yes, personal views- that's one way to uh, call what the fuck JK Rowling comes out with a-lot- last I checked personal views do come with consquiences if said out loud....a thousand times in JK's case and still counting....especially if they hurt people, but hey, if it means making another Harry Potter project to milk, just let it fucking be I guess.

[heartshapelocket]

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

me when im slightly interested in someone:

[carm3n-carm3n]

real

🝮 made by me 🝮

[limitedseries]

Hannah Einbinder and Christina Hendricks Hacks— "Power Play" (2024)

[cowboymarcs]

rough

joel miller x fem!reader

summary: jackson had made joel soft, and while you delighted in the domesticity of it all, some small, shameful part of you missed how hard he fucked you when the world was ending.

warnings: smut, piv, rough (but consensual) sex, choking, face slapping, daddy kink, dom!joel, name calling, unedited (i'm sorry), you are responsible for the media that you consume.

word count: 1.4k

joel miller’s rough, calloused hands only softened as he spent more time in jackson. his shoulders began to relax, losing the tension of years spent on the road. habits of checking his six and his hand hovering over the strap of his rifle had been broken. joel miller, for better or worse, had become soft, and you loved it.

you loved the way he stroked your face gently while gazing at you. his brows no longer furrowed and angry, only easy. your heart warmed when he came home tired and achy from patrol, but not exhausted from trying to survive. you loved this part of him, you truly did… but some small, shameful part of you missed his roughness. 

the rough, fast fucks that the two of you had to squeeze in here and there, his hard demeaner and hoarse voice. you missed the way he would fiercely bite hickies into your neck. you missed the way he ‘used you’; longed for it even. but it felt wrong to miss it, to take for granted the happiness that jackson brought you. 

you watched joel now, sipping on his drink across the bar, chatting with one of tommy’s friends. his eyes met yours, asking a silent question. want me to take you home? you downed the rest of your drink in answer, striding across the bar and looping an arm through his, fingers resting on his strong bicep. 

“gonna take the lady home,” joel excused himself, “nice talking to you.” the man nodded and raised his glass. you waved before turning towards your man. 

“you enjoying yourself, darlin’?”

“never been better,” you replied honestly, laying your head against his shoulder, and hugging his arm tighter. 

the walk home felt too long, your blood thrumming with need the closer you got to the house. your mind began to wonder, daydreaming of thoughts of joel fucking you rough from behind, smushing your face down into the mattress and whispering nasty words into your ear. 

“you alright, sweet thing?”

“huh? oh, yes i’m good.” his words had brought you out of your daze, making you realize you stood in front of the door to your home. he opened the door for you, following you in. as the two of you got ready for bed, doing your respective nightly routines, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to your fantasies. 

fantasies of his thick hands around your throat, hips snapping against yours. your panties seemed to dampen. you looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to find the confidence to ask joel to fulfill those particular fantasies. you tiptoed into the bedroom, finding joel lying on his back, arm draped lazily over his eyes. he wore only his boxers, showing off his broad shoulders and hair that trailed down his tummy. 

“joel?” you whispered, standing awkwardly in the doorway. he sat up, sensing your apprehension. 

“what’s wrong, darlin’?” you opened your mouth and closed it a few times, not sure how to say that yes, you loved the sex you were having now, but you missed how hard he fucked you when the world was ending. “c’mon, spit it out.”

“i miss having rough sex with you, joel.” a weight lifted off your chest at the confession. 

“that’s all? well you could’ve just said that, sweetheart. no use in gettin’ all worked up over nothin’.” he motioned for you to join him on the bed and raised a frisky eyebrow. “i’d fuck you into next week if you wanted me to.”

you chuckled at his playfulness before looking at him again, earnestness in your eyes. “that’s not all i want, joel… i-i want you to hit me.” 

he cleared his throat and leaned back an inch. he was taken by surprise, and rightfully so. while the two of you had dabbled in choking and spanking, the thought of hitting you - hurting you had never crossed his mind. 

“oh,” was all he muttered. 

“i understand if you don't want to,” you began to babble before he shushed you. 

“it’s not that i don’t want to… i just want you to be completely sure that this is what you want. i would never want to hurt you, darlin’.” he brushed a stray hair from your face before kissing you tenderly. you welcomed the kiss by grabbing his curls and pulling him as close as he could possibly get. 

“you could never hurt me, joel.” he groaned at your words before laying you down and caging you in with his arms. you could feel him harden against your core. his kisses became feverish, tongue diving into your mouth to taste your wet heat. you pulled away, looking into his soft, brown eyes. “i want this, joel, more than anything. i want you to use me.”

joel’s eyes immediately darkened, reminded of the ways he used to fuck you when you two were on the run. the way you used to scream his name and beg for his mercy in bed. he looked at you now, ready to take him fully, eyes wide and pussy wet. 

“stop me if it hurts.” it was all he said before he tore your panties off. he scrambled to push his boxers down, fiending for a release. he grabbed his cock, sliding his head through your wetness, spreading your juices all over his cock. 

“you don’t even need any prep, huh? all wet and ready for daddy?” you nodded fiercely, praying that joel would push into you any second. you whined as he kept playing with your pussy. “so needy, huh sweetheart? daddy’s not gonna go any quicker unless you ask nicely.”

the head of his thick cock brushed swiftly over your aching clit, making you jump. you threw your head back, relishing in the anticipation, the tension, the buzzing need to have joel’s cock inside of you and his coarse hands controlling you. 

“please joel, please,” you panted, hands running down his chest, fingers scratching him slightly, “i need you to fuck me, baby.”

“well since you’re bein’ such a good girl for me i suppose we can make that happen.” he pushed into you in one fell swoop, his thick, hard girth pressing into your wet cunt. your moan that was released from you was obscene and absurdly loud. joel set a fast pace, giving your body no time to adjust to his size. the burn of him stretching you out mixed with the pleasure of his head hitting your g-spot filled your vision with stars. 

your moans invigorated him, his hands grabbing at your full tits and squeezing them before leaning down and nipping at them. his mouth sucked at the skin of your tits, biting and marking them as his own. his hands left the warm skin of your tits, making you mewl at the loss of contact, only for joel’s hands to find your calves, and folding you in half. your legs resting on his shoulders, his cock plunging deeper inside of you. your whines and joel’s respective grunts filled the room along with the intense, lewd slapping of his balls against your backside. 

“j-joel!” you sputtered out. his eyes darkened and you knew it was coming - your pussy clenched at the thought.

joel raised his hand over the two of you and brought it down, slapping you across your face. the sting reverberated through your bones and the pleasure traveled all the way to your cunt that was squelching around his cock. his hand, now wrapping around your throat, brought you close to his face. your lips were ghosting his, his breath dancing upon yours. there were tears of pleasure in your eyes. 

“that’s not my fuckin’ name,” he gritted out, still fucking you at his rapid pace. you realized what game he was playing.

“i’m sorry, daddy. i’ll be good, i promise,” you pleaded. a small smirk found joel’s face; he was satisfied with your reply. he pounded into you, chasing his release. you could focus on nothing but the delicious feel of his cock thrusting into you, and the crazed look in his eyes that you missed so fondly. he began to thrust rapidly, desperate to fill you up with his seed. 

“yeah thats right, baby, clenching around daddy’s cock like the whore you are,” he spat. you let out an involuntary moan at his harsh words, pussy gushing. 

his hips stuttered, releasing his hot cum into you. he grunted in relief, hand that was squeezed around your neck releasing and petting your face gently. his softness had returned. you felt his cock pull out of you, causing a groan to leave your mouth. 

“is that what you wanted, darlin’?”

“that was perfect, joel, thank you.”

joel smiled, lifting off of you to fetch you a glass of water and a new pair of panties for bed. 

[damienns]

Sadie + Food

[kyber-kisses]

Damn Joel really lost his only three friends and now his only companion is a feral 14 year old

[scrambledslut]

[deantfwinchester]

Neighborhood Walgreens

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader like always

This one takes place before the other two timeline-wise, I guess - just a few months into knowing each other. No established relationship, and some ridiculous flirting.

Summary: A busy, sick Joel gets a little care from the people in his life - including the neighbor and friend he's been crushing on for the past few months.

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff-fluffity-fluff. Bout to get a standing root canal appointment, tbh.

A/N: The bulleted fics are piling up in the notes app, but boy are the well-crafted girlies a bit of a trek. More to come, if the functioning part of my brain has anything to say about it.

Word Count: 5.9k. absolute unit.

——————————————————————————————

Joel wakes up feeling like shit. He’d felt a bit of a scratch in his throat the night before, but tried to write it off as allergies or something - until he woke himself up coughing before his alarm could even go off. He knows he has a cold the second he tries to breathe through his nose - no dice. His head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and it’s pounding before he can open his eyes. He shivers when he moves the blankets aside to get up, and each muscle in his body begs him to crawl back into bed.

Ever the trooper, he rises anyway, heading to the bathroom and checking the medicine cabinet to find what he’d feared - no cold medicine. Awesome. Resigning himself to trucking through the day, he blows his nose, pops a couple tylenol, and gets ready. His respiratory system isn’t too fond of the assault, however, and he’s coughing up a lung before he can finish. Today should be fun. He’ll need to stop by the drugstore on his way home. 

Once he’s dressed for the day (trying his best to look alive), Joel trudges down the stairs to see Sarah at the kitchen table, half-eaten bowl of cereal in one hand and a pencil in the other as she finishes the last of her homework. She hears him shuffle in and looks up just as he sniffles, locking eyes right before he can still his features into a facade of rested wellness. The  look on her face tells him he’s not getting away without worrying her, and he hates that. She doesn’t say a word as he makes his way to the coffee pot, she just watches him, only speaking up when he shivers at the mug’s warmth in his hands. The weather’s typical for an early autumn morning, but nowhere near chilly. Though the temperature should drop today with rain in the forecast, Sarah knows her dad and he’s never cold. 

“You know, I could just head next door. I guarantee she’d be happy to drive me,” she says smiling into her textbook, trying to be nonchalant with her concern. She was referring to you, their neighbor of a few months now, who’d given Sarah rides, helped her with homework, or checked in on her when Joel needed. You’d been around since the day you moved in, and neither of them could complain — certainly not Joel. Maybe she was hoping to fluster him a bit as well, suspecting his feelings for you were a bit more than the friendship he insists they are. 

He chokes on his coffee and coughs a little, shaking his head as she closes her book and begins leafing through her notes. Joel’s been worried enough lately that he’s taking advantage of your kindness too much — afraid he’s inconveniencing you and you’re too nice to say no, despite your insistence to help on more than one occasion. Besides, he already feels crappy, the last thing he wants today is for you to see him like this, hardly able to keep himself together. Or worse, to get you sick as well. Absolutely not. He opens his mouth to respond, but she speaks first. “It’s not like she hasn’t before. Maybe just one day? You need…,” she trails off, losing the battle with her expression as her eyebrows knit together and she notes the pallor and exhaustion on his own.

He takes a swig of his coffee hoping it will soothe the growing soreness in his throat before responding, “That’s alright kiddo, I-,” but the words catch in his throat before he can finish, and he cuts himself off coughing harshly into his elbow. Sarah grabs a glass and fills it with water while he coughs, longer than he has all morning, and hands it to him when he catches his breath. The look on her face is challenging now — she knows she won’t win this game, but she’ll still put up a fight. Predictably, Joel continues his previous thought as though unfazed by the fit, though his voice tells another story. “It’s just a cold, I’ll be fine. You don’t need to be worryin’ about me, babygirl,” he says hoarsely, waving her off with a sniffle. “You got a science test today, worry about that. You feelin’ ready?,” he asks, subverting talk of both his illness and mentions of you.

Sarah relents with a sigh, “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she says, gesturing to the textbook and notes on the table. He’s more confident than she is, and he smiles brightly at her.

“You’ve got it down, not a doubt in my mind. Now finish getting your stuff together before we’re late. I’ll get the car runnin’,” he says, moving his coffee to a travel thermos before grabbing her lunch from the refrigerator and getting it packed up. She looks back at him hesitantly before leaving the room to gather the last of her school stuff. 

Joel’s got his coffee in hand and Sarah’s lunch in the seat next to him as he waits in the truck. It’s nice enough outside, but he’s still chilly, and wonders if he should run back in and grab a jacket. He forgoes this idea when he realizes Sarah’d put up more of a fight if he did, knowing he’s warm-blooded as all hell, and vocally hot until at least November. Not to mention Tommy’d see right through him the second he shows up to work. No, it’s just early in the morning. The day will warm as the sun climbs to its apex for sure. He’ll be alright. 

While he’s thinking too hard through the fog in his head, Sarah climbs into the car with her backpack on, pulling it off to throw into the seat next to her. But not before she’s placed two additions in the seat between them - a box of tissues and a water bottle. She doesn’t say anything to him, just gives him a knowing look before loading her lunch into her backpack. Joel stills a moment — he’s not surprised by her care, but softens at the gesture. As Sarah shuts the passenger door, Joel wonders how the hell she turned out so sweet, and kisses the top of her head in silent thanks before pushing the truck into drive.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Joel gets to work, his headache has bloomed into pain behind his eyes, leaving him squinting hard in the bright morning sun. He’s also used quite a few tissues since he dropped Sarah off at school. He’s definitely grateful she thought to grab them, but unfortunately, his congestion won’t budge. He’s not naive enough to think he can hide from Tommy, but hopeful that his brother might at least leave him be today. He can muscle through if he’s just working and not being nagged by his brother for hours. He’s sure of it.

—--------------------

Tommy’s not an idiot, but he lets him slide for the first few hours. It’s clear he knows something’s wrong. Joel’s a quiet enough guy, but never this silent, only speaking up when the work demands. He noticed when Joel got out of the truck this morning looking particularly drained - both in face and demeanor - and had checked in as casually as possible, hoping to avoid his brother’s evident and exceptional irritability. Joel, of course, had promptly brushed him off and clammed up for the remainder of the morning. Speaking only when spoken to hadn’t stopped Joel from making noise, though, much to his brother’s dismay. Tommy had seen him all morning, breaking into intermittent fits of coughing he’d attempt to mask beneath the racket of power tools. Tommy’s just about as good at hiding his concern, and Joel catches him looking in his direction in the thick of it on more than one occasion. After which Joel would rip his eyes from his brother’s fretful gaze, hoping to deter him from moving forward to give him a once-over. 

Despite his many efforts otherwise, Tommy knows Joel’s sick - too sick to be working like he is today. It’s when the guys break for lunch around noon and Joel just quietly nurses a bottle of water (which he only has because Sarah made sure of it, no less), that Tommy decides he’s got all the evidence he needs. Tommy sidles up next to his brother who’s leaning against his truck bed, and by the looks of it, allowing it to hold most of his weight, too weary to do so himself. Tommy sighs next to him, and Joel braces for what’s coming.

“You know, we’ve pretty much got it covered over here today, not a lot left to do before we pour anyhow. Probably a good thing, bottom looks like it’s gonna fall out before long,” he says, gesturing to the darkening sky above them. “We can manage for the day if you wanna head on home, maybe take a nap? Hate to tell ya, but you look like hell.” Tommy nudges his brother’s shoulder with his own playfully, attempting to lighten the mood. Joel rolls his eyes at Tommy, sniffing and clearing his throat to talk.

“Nah. ‘S just a cold. I’ll be alright,” Joel says, hoping to end the discussion with his curt response, but failing when his throat catches on the last word. Tommy’s face is etched in worry at the sound of the cough tearing up his brother’s throat. 

While Joel attempts to catch his breath, Tommy takes in the reddened flush on Joel’s otherwise pale face, and the distant glassiness in his eyes. Taking advantage of his distracted state, Tommy places the back of his hand against Joel’s forehead. He’s barely there long enough to get a read on his temp before Joel swats his hand away, but it’s enough. No wonder he’s caught Joel shivering more than once today. 

“Dammit Joel, you know better. We’ve sent guys home for less and you know it,” says Tommy, face twisting in frustration and concern. 

“Tommy it’s fine I-“ Joel attempts to reply, but Tommy cuts him off. 

“Did you even bother to check it before ya left? You know this is a fuckin’ hazard on the job. Damn accident waitin’ to happen,” his tone is grave, but his expression is worried and achingly sincere. Joel pushes the thought from his mind and shapes up - not his little brother’s job, he can take care of himself. 

“No. I’m fine to keep workin. That’s it. We got stuff to do,” Joel says with finality, turning on his heel and promptly returning to his tasks. Tommy’s not happy about it, but he could spend all day arguing with his bullheaded brother, tiring him out more without making any headway. No, he’ll just keep a closer eye on him while they work. That’ll have to do.

—--------------------

It’s when the rain starts coming down a little after two that Tommy hits his limit. Once he notices a couple drops beginning to fall, he looks to Joel, just in time to see his brother shivering when the drops make contact with his overheated skin. That’s enough of that. Tommy stalks over to his brother, whose reaction time is significantly slowed, and Joel turns to look at him a bit dazed. 

“Alright, that’s it. Rain’s coming down, you’re shaking like a fuckin’ leaf. Go home.” It’s Tommy’s turn to remain steadfast in his convictions. Joel looks over at him with tired eyes and Tommy can’t help but soften. 

Only when a few chilled drops hit Joel’s face and neck making him colder than he’s felt all day that he concedes. “Yeah, alright.” It’s clear he doesn’t have the energy to put up a fight, especially when Tommy pats his shoulder comfortingly and he slumps a bit. Joel’s shivering again as Tommy ushers him back toward his truck. 

“We’re heading out soon as we get cleaned up anyway. How ‘bout I pick up Sarah? Just go home and get some sleep?” Tommy asks, hopeful now that his brother’s folding. 

“Okay,” he breathes out, running a hand down his face before trying in vain to rub out the pain behind his eyes. Joel stops just outside the driver’s side door and looks to Tommy to thank him. 

“‘Course. Now head home. I’ll see you in a little bit,” Tommy responds, to which Joel nods, then climbs into the truck. Tommy takes another look back to find his brother sitting in the driver’s seat gathering himself, mildly satisfied with this result 

_____________________________________________________________

For once you actually make your way to the parking lot right after school on a Friday. You're notorious for staying too late, grading, planning, or straight up yapping, but today you’d made a rookie mistake. You’d showed up to work on Day 2 of your period without checking your advil stash. Fuck. 

After a day of cramping, crabbiness, and guilty apologies after being kind of a bitch to your students a couple of times, you head to your car as soon as the bell rings. You’ll stop in the Walgreens around the corner from your neighborhood for a quick supply run, then head home to be comfortably horizontal for the remainder of this fine Friday afternoon.

—--------------------

Truth be told, Joel is relieved to be done for the day by the time Tommy makes him leave. The last of his resolve had crumbled and fallen with the first raindrops and the chill they set in his bones. He turns the heat on in his truck and settles in, letting the air warm him up and willing the pounding in his head to subside just long enough to focus on the road. A few minutes and a bout of coughing later, he finally works up the strength to drive home, only to realize he’s still horrifically unmedicated. Shit. Guess he’s stopping at the drugstore on his way home if he wants even a little relief.

—--------------------

Joel’s standing in the cold and flu aisle of his neighborhood Walgreens, sniffling miserably and squinting heavy-lidded at different cold medicine boxes in each of his hands. He remembers one particular medicine helping at least a bit more than others last time he was sick, but for the life of him he can’t remember which one it was. Dammit, he really just wants to get out of here. He’d much rather keep this cold to himself than be hacking in public, but he needs something if he’s ever gonna stop coughing long enough to get the sleep he desperately needs. 

The tiny white letters on the back of these orange and green boxes are starting to run together, and the pain behind his eyes digs its heels into his frontal lobe. He squeezes his eyes shut and curses a little louder than he realizes, triggering a coughing fit in the middle of the store. Great. Now everyone in the store knows he’s carrying a respiratory plague. He’s sniffling and feeling like a walking germ when he hears his name called.

“Joel?” you call from the end of the aisle, having heard his voice from a few lanes over. Joel turns his head to see - oh no. Jesus. Boy did he wish you weren’t the one seeing him look so gross right now. As you come closer to find him squinting under the clinical brightness of the drugstore, you get a good look at him. He looks… rough. His hair’s a bit damp, and more disheveled than usual - not the fresh, styled damp you see when he leaves the house after a shower, but a clammier mix of sweat and rain. His posture is far from the typical confidence and swagger he typically wields with each step, and is more evidently haggard. You notice his eyes first though, with dark circles and brows creased in confused exhaustion. They’re half-closed too, like he’s fighting to keep them open. 

He tries to open them wider and stand up straighter as you approach, clearing his throat to speak, but he’s coughing again before he can get a word out. He’s shaking with the force of it and you notice his shirt is damp in places as well - must have gotten caught in the rain. Just minutes ago, he’d have been uncomfortable under your scrutiny, but he’s too wrapped up in catching his breath to be embarrassed at this point. You draw nearer with pure concern in your eyes as his coughing subsides, and his resolve melts a bit more.

“Whoa, hey, you okay over there? That sounded painful,” you say, finally meeting his eyes. He notices the fretful tone in your voice — it’s gentler than his brother’s but carries the same intention. 

“Yeah, can’t say it feels great,” Joel says hoarsely before attempting to clear his throat once again, hoping his lungs will cooperate this time. “Can’t seem to remember which of these damn pills will give me a hand though.”

“Didn’t I just see you on Wednesday? When did you start feeling bad?” you ask, leaning against his side to take a closer look at one of the boxes from his hands. Maybe with some details you can help figure something out to get him feeling better, or at least let him rest.

“Last night, I guess. Came on pretty quick. Was workin’ okay this morning, but once the rain started, Tommy sent me packin’.”

“You went to work like this, Joel?! Isn’t that like, dangerous? You could really hurt yourself,” you chastise, rubbing his upper arm comfortingly while staring up at him looking utterly devastated. Christ he may melt into a puddle right here. He’s seen this look before, and though he doesn’t want you close enough to catch this, he doesn’t have the heart to shove you away like he did Tommy. He bothers to look at least a little guilty, and you sigh before continuing: “Bad idea. And you know it. Now, let’s figure this out. You’ve got the cough down for sure - what are your other symptoms?”

Before Joel can respond, he looks down into the small basket hanging over your arm and notices its contents: a box of pads, tampons, a bag of peanut M&Ms, a resealable bag of bite-sized chocolates, sour gummy worms, two different pain medications, and a box of peppermint tea. Pain relief, pads, and candy salad. Caught. This is not a conversation you want to have with Joel — men get weird about periods for some childish reason, and you’re really not in the mood. You glance down and move the basket behind you a bit, ready to brush him off and keep the conversation on him, but when you meet his eyes they’re wider and his brows are furrowed above you, drinking you in.

“You sure you’re feeling alright?,” he asks, gesturing to the contents of your little black basket. His tone mirrors the worry you’ve been bleeding since you turned onto the aisle. You’re taken aback by the question at all, given the obvious nature of today’s dilemma — one most men you know wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. His voice doesn’t waver, and his expression doesn’t falter, or express an ounce of discomfort. It’s interesting, but you’d rather not dwell on it, and laugh him off anyway.

“Oh, yeah. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before of course,” you smile and wave your hand in the air to brush off his concern, but his eyebrows inch closer to one another, and his head tilts slightly to the side. You’re the one growing warm under his perusal now, so you turn the subject back to him. “Anyway, talk to me. What’s the matter?”

Joel stares a moment longer, but begins to rattle off a list of fairly standard cold symptoms. You’re glad it isn’t anything too serious, he’ll probably just feel crappy for a couple of days while his immune system does the heavy lifting. Now to figure out what can be done to make him more comfortable in the meantime. One thing you know for certain after hearing the growing congestion in his voice and the rasp in his throat — he’s gonna need the stronger stuff. You take the boxes from his hands and return them to the shelf. He looks at you perplexed, struggling to sniffle against the congestion that — according to the pained squinting he’s still doing beneath the fluorescent lights — is giving him a hell of a sinus headache, and keeping him from breathing through his nose. Fine as he may be in a few days, at the moment he looks devastatingly uncomfortable. 

“Yeah, this crap on the shelf isn’t gonna work. Let’s get ya some of the stronger stuff,” you say, patting his shoulder before tugging him along to the pharmacy. He doesn’t ask any questions, just quietly follows your lead. Along the way, you explain the useless nature of the phenylephrine in the easy stuff, and how the good stuff requires you to show your ID. You tell him why the drugs with the pseudoephedrine are more helpful, and he nods and snuffles in understanding. Sounds good to him, he’ll let you take the lead on that one. As smart as he knows you are, he more than trusts your judgment.

You approach the counter and begin perusing the options, talking with the pharmacist about what you need, when Joel starts coughing again. You can’t help but rub his back and whisper soft words in comfort when his face twists in pain from the fit wreaking havoc in his chest. As your hand moves in soothing circles across his back, you can feel the heat of his skin through his t-shirt. Shit, he didn’t say anything about a fever. You need to get him home as soon as possible. 

When he’s composed a bit, you wrap up with the pharmacist, and she asks for your ID. You pull yours from your bag and hand it to her, but pause. Should you show her your own? Does she need to see Joel’s too?

“Oh, for sure. Uhm, do you need to see his too, since he’s the patient?” you ask, wanting to get done with this as quickly and smoothly as possible so you can get him out of here. She’s looking at the card in her hand intently and entering your information into the computer, busy with the transaction.

“No ma’am. We don’t need your husband’s ID since you’re the one purchasing,” she responds, not lifting her eyes from the computer. You blush at this, but she doesn’t seem to notice until Joel’s eyes go wide and he chokes, forcing him into another bout of harsh coughing. Jesus, his throat must be torn up. You reach for him with one hand and place your own basket and a few other sick day supplies on the counter with the other before she finalizes the transaction. 

“Thanks for all your help!,” you say a bit frantically as you begin to usher him toward the exit. You walk out of the store in silence, neither one of you looking at the other, each of you trying to keep a nervous smirk at bay. Only when the automatic doors shut behind you do you turn to look at each other and laugh heartily, extremely entertained by the pharmacist’s assumption. The laughter only ceases when it sends Joel coughing again — you need a read on that fever he’s sporting. Once he’s mostly caught his breath, you move closer and place a gentle hand on his forehead, then move it down toward his cheek. Joel closes his eyes and without realizing, leans forward into your soft touch. When your hand leaves his face, his eyes open to find that look again, and he muses that you may make him sweat before the fever gets the chance. 

“You didn’t mention this earlier. Did you know you’re running a fever, Joel?” you ask him, and he looks guilty toward the asphalt. 

“Tommy mighta mentioned somethin’ about it earlier, but I’ll be alright,” he responds, but fails to suppress a shiver when the breeze kicks up. Your heart breaks a little seeing him shaking — how did you miss that earlier? You sigh deeply before telling him you’re hesitant to let him drive home. He insists it’ll be fine, and you understand it’d be more of a hassle to come get his truck later on. You concede since it’s such a short trip back, but you’ll follow him back to your adjacent homes. 

—--------------------

After parking your car in the driveway next to his own, you meet Joel at his truck. You bat his hand away when he attempts to grab the bags from yours, and tell him to go unlock the door. Ever the gentleman, he’s a little perturbed, but follows your instructions anyway. Once you’re both inside the house, you set the items on the table and sit him down next to it before heading for the cabinet and filling a glass with water. After passing him the glass and watching as he slowly sips, you unload the bags, and begin reading the back of the box from the pharmacy. 

“Have you eaten anything today? It’s probably not a great idea to take this on an empty stomach,” you say. He goes a little green at the thought of eating anything before swallowing and huffing a response.

“No, haven’t really felt like it. Don’t think it’d sit well right now, to be honest. I’ll be alright with just the medicine, I bet.” You sigh in response, a little anxious it’ll make him feel worse, but either option could do that at this point. At least the thought of the medicine isn’t nauseating for him at the moment. You’ll let it slide, for now. 

“Fine. But you’ll definitely need to eat something substantial later,” you tell him, giving him a once-over, taking advantage of the single instance he’s below you to get a good look at him. You’re already thinking through take-out options that might help tonight. Another day, you’d make some soup for him — get him full and warm him up. Hell, tomorrow you might. But today you’re exhausted, with the period fatigue and the cramps that won’t let up, you’re definitely ready to get into some more comfy Friday Afternoon Clothes. 

“Alright, you get changed and get comfy on the couch. I’m just gonna run home and get outta these work clothes, then I’ll be right back.” 

“You’ve done plenty already today, darlin’, really. Helped me out more than you know. And I’d hate for you to catch this too,” he explains, looking guiltier than you’d like. You’re plenty aware of the risk here but at the moment you couldn’t care less. You don’t really feel like sitting by yourself in your house right now anyway. No reason both of you should feel crappy alone. 

“Uh, Joel, did you forget that we’re ‘married’ now? I’ll be back in just a minute to check on you,” you insist, smiling at him. He looks at you admonishingly and smiles back, shaking his head. You have no idea how happy that makes him — his stomach flutters at the joke, and it isn’t from his illness. You hesitate on the way out the door, and turn to check with him once again. “If having me hovering is gonna keep you up though, I can totally leave you be. I don’t want to keep you from getting the rest you need.” Your voice and expression are apprehensive, afraid to be a bother. 

He probably doesn’t still his face well enough, and he’s certain you can see desperation in his eyes when he shakes his head. He can’t tell you quite yet, but he’s over the moon you want to stick around. All semblance of nobility is dropped - having you near him could never be unwelcome. “You don’t hover, sweetheart. Nothing about you is bothersome. I’d love the company, actually,” he tells you in earnest.

Your expression settles at the reassurance, and you smile back at him. “Good. I’ll just be a few minutes,” you begin, but your smile turns to a grimace with the last few words as you feel a sharp twisting in your stomach and lower back. Your hand instinctively grips your stomach, hoping to ease the pain. There’s definitely no escaping that one. Joel’s eyes widen, but you cut him off before he can ask if you’re okay. “Yep, I'm gonna get out of these pants and into something loose before my uterus tries to kill me,” you joke, reaching for the knob. 

Joel chuckles in response but he’s frowning a bit. The look from the drugstore is back, and you don’t know what to do with his sympathy. You can’t look long before heading out. 

He hates seeing the pain you’re in, but what upsets him most is the way you brush it off. Like your pain is smaller, or insignificant by comparison — one he wouldn’t draw anyway. It sticks with him more than it probably should, but he can’t seem to shake it. He needs to act, somehow. Once he’s changed, he grabs a few blankets from the closet and the heating pad they keep around for his back and for Sarah’s own cycles. He knows how much it can help her, so he figures it couldn’t hurt to offer, at least. 

He sets up a spot on the couch for you both — a little nest for staring at the tv and, (he hopes), cozying up just a bit for extra comfort. He’s still not hungry, but he microwaves a bag of popcorn and grabs some other assorted salty snacks to join the candy you’d picked up. He’s seen how snacky you can get after school sometimes, and wants to make sure you have an array of options, prepped for any craving. 

You return as he’s placing the last of these items down on the coffee table — he’s rather proud of his little presentation — and sees your hair up and a comfy set of sweats that are just a little too long in the arms and legs. Lord help him, you look fucking adorable. He can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face when you walk toward him. 

“Well don’t you look cozy,” he says with eyes shining at your improved expression. You give him an exaggerated little twirl to show off the baggy outfit you’ve adorned yourself in for this evening’s activities. 

“Damn right! I’m ready for anything now,” you say, stuffing your hands in the pocket of your hoodie. He’s laughing in response before it catches in his throat again and he starts coughing. 

“That makes one of us,” he jokes once he’s caught his breath. 

“Yep, I want you on the couch. Right now. Go ahead and get comfy and I’ll get the medicine. We gotta get you drugged up enough if you’re gonna get any sleep.” You’re ushering him to the couch when you stop in your tracks. When you catch sight of the coffee table snacks and the heating pad set up on one side of the couch, already plugged in and waiting, you nearly tear up. You’re speechless for a moment — no one’s ever done anything like this for you before. This little thoughtful gesture means the world, and you’re not sure what to say. 

“Joel! You didn’t need to do all this. You’re sick, I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you insist, nudging his arm with your own, leaning lightly into his side. 

“Wasn’t hardly anything, darlin’, just some stuff I know helps Sarah when she gets to feelin’ like you do. She likes her snacks salty, and always feels better with this little fire hazard next to ‘er,” he says, gesturing to the heating pad on the couch. His grin turns mischievous before he starts again: “Besides, you said it yourself, we’re ‘married’ now, huh? I oughta know what my wife needs just as well,” he finishes, voice too satisfied, and eyebrows raised in jest. 

You’re giggling when you grab his hand and squeeze it, thanking him. “This goofy little bit we’re doin’ ends the second Sarah and your brother walk through the door, by the way. Not looking to scare her, that’s the last thing I wanna do,” you instruct.

“‘Course, but fuckin’ with Tommy sure woulda been fun,” he says to you, and you laugh in agreement. Once you see he’s settled, you make tea for the both of you, hoping it’ll work magic with the medicine to get him resting comfortably and — with any luck — napping before long. He’ll probably protest, but with a little coaxing, you’ll get it into him. 

When you return with the tea, he takes it from you with both hands, before using one to pull you down on the couch next to him. He’s pulled you a little closer than you may have sat yourself, and he’s pleased when you don’t pull away or readjust. You just grab the heating pad, crank it up, and stick it behind your lower back while leaning forward to grab the medicine. You check his temperature again with the back of your hand while he’s preoccupied taking the medicine you’d doled out to him. He’s a little warmer than he was outside the drug store. 

“Maybe we should get a number on that. Where do you keep your thermometer?” you ask, worry written on your face all over again. You attempt to rise from the couch to go hunting, but he grips your hand again, keeping you in place.

“Nope, nope, it’s fine sweetheart, I promise. You need to get some rest too. Sit,” he directs, his tone leaving no room for discussion. You roll your eyes, but wriggle back against the couch again before pulling a blanket into your lap. Joel fiddles with the cord of the heating pad and readjusts it behind your back, making sure it isn’t folded or sitting uncomfortably against you. You sigh in relief and fall a bit toward him as you settle in, and he inches you way as well. You arbitrarily turn on a movie you’ve both seen, fully aware neither of you will be making it to the end, and snuggle closer. The fevered heat humming beneath his skin is pleasantly warm against you as he settles deeper, and he’s slipping in and out of conversation within minutes. 

_____________________________________________________________

Sarah walks through the door with Tommy in tow while end credits roll across the tv. They head into the den to check on Joel, but conversation falls silent and they stop in their tracks at the sight they discover. You’re sleeping peacefully, legs tucked up under you and head lolled against the back of the couch. Joel’s head has somehow found its way into your lap, and he’s resting warmly on your stomach, no doubt alleviating some of the pain with his warmth and weight. Your hand rests on his shoulder, holding him securely.

Tommy’s face goes slack, but Sarah’s smiling ear to ear, and turns to her uncle, trying to quiet her laughter. He looks at her wide-eyed, but says nothing, and she holds her hand out between them, fingers curling toward her palm.

“Pay up,” she says, way too satisfied for Tommy’s liking, and far too much like her father. He rolls his eyes, and digs his wallet out of his pocket. He really thought his brother would be too chicken to do anything about this — at least for a little while longer.

[saturnerens]

hes done :)) im very proud of how this turned out

[spookykoolkat]

kinktober | grateful - j.m.

kinktober day nine - cockwarming

pairing: joel miller x plus size!reader

wc: 2.17k

summary: being joel's girlfriend meant you saw sides of him no one else ever saw. one of them was how he just loved to be in your presence, to feel you, to touch you — to be buried inside of you.

warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! MINORS ARE NOT WELCOMED!!! NO AGE = BLOCKED. mentions of violence and sexual violence *if you blink you will miss it it's not a main theme!*, mentions if blood, dirty talk, p in v, cockwarming, slight somno.

an: gosh im so behind on this but i WILL catch up. i have a concert tmrw im very excited! also this one is very short, but i still love it 🥹

reblogs, likes & comments are so very appreciated i love u guys 🥹

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧ °｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHAT it meant to be in a relationship – with joel. somehow, years after you got lost with the group you’d traveled with for months, you ended up in the midst of a bunch of men on horses pointing their guns at you. 

one of them being joel, and his brother. you were cut up, bloodied and bruised, in the freezing winter with hardly anything on. you remembered looking around you at the men that circled you, your hands raised but just barely because you had a stab wound on your left shoulder, crying. 

“please, i, i can leave just, please don’t kill me, i’ll go,” you cried frantically. 

every thought was going through your mind right now. you were half naked, shivering and near frostbite basically, the only thing warming you up would be the blood pouring from your wounds. there were only two things that could happen. 

they’ll trap you, have their way with you, then leave you for dead. or, they shoot you because they think you’re infected. 

“please don’t hurt me, i’m, i’m not infected, i swear.” you sobbed, looking down at your knees that felt numb being buried in the snow. 

you heard a shuffle, then something hit the floor, and the crunch of snow under a pair of boots. until you saw them right in front of you, and the person lowered themselves down to your height. 

the man tilted your chin up with his glove-covered fingers, and made you look at him. 

“you ain’t got nothin’ to be scared of, come on, we’ll get ya some clothes,” 

and that was it. joel was the one who kept you away from the men that stared you down like a piece of meat that day, he kept you away from tommy, who kept telling him it was a bad idea. but quickly referenced when he and ellie came into town, and they took them in like nothing. 

he kept you safe. and he let you stay with him for the time being, until you managed to find a job down at the local bar. then, the two of you kind of went your separate ways. you found a little house at the corner that tommy told joel to give you, and managed to live by yourself for the year you were there. 

joel didn’t want you on patrol routes, or to forage for things that the town needed. he needed you safe, even when he wasn’t there. 

you hadn’t talked to joel, but he managed to come to the tipsy bison every friday, sitting at the bar by himself and watching you. 

“you know,” you start as you are cleaning the beer glasses and wiping down the sticky table after closing. joel was the only one still there. 

“you come here every friday, ever since i started working here, but everyone i’ve ever heard from tells me you like to drink alone. in the comfort of your own house,” you said, wiping the bar down in front of him. 

“jus’ makin’ sure you ain’t in no trouble over here,” he mumbled behind his last drink, downing the rest of the mahogany liquid. he did a subtle look down your shirt as you wiped the bar down in circles, watching your cleavage come into view. 

you just chuckled. “i think i’ll be okay. i promise you’ll be the first one i go to if i need help.” 

that made a small smile tug on his lips. 

“let me walk ya home,” 

so he did. except he didn’t leave after that. that night, the two of you drank a little more at your place, and things got a little heated. in the midst of stretching you out for the very first time, he was whispering things you would’ve claimed were little nothings, but seemed as if he was declaring his need for you. 

“fuck baby, tell me, whose pussy is this? who else is stretchin’ ya out like this?” 

“pretty fuckin’ girl, i swear i’ll fuckin’ kill for ya, won’t let nobody come near ya,” 

“you ain’t leavin’ me, darlin’. this pussy is fuckin’ mine,” 

and you never did, and he always kept his promise. four years later, after him being the one to fix your wounds and give you clothes, a place to stay — you lived with him. ellie ended up being able to take patrol routes occasionally, moving into a small house with dina. she was even glad he had someone to look after him, to take care of him as he cared for everyone. 

joel had just came in towards the end of the night from patrolling with tommy, mumbling about how he’s sort of an idiot. you could barely hear his banter from your bedroom, ears perking up at the sound of the door opening and slamming closed.

“baby?” you called out from the bedroom as he walked to the kitchen and grabbed himself a beer. his eyes searched for you in the darkness of the living room, until he ended up walking to the back hall to the room you both slept in. 

his face softened, giving a little smile as he walked over to you and plopped on the bed next to you. the force almost made you drop the book you were reading, so you dog-eared the page and put it on the table as you turned to curl into him. 

“you smell like outside,” you said as you crinkled your nose. 

“fuckin’ tommy, stressin’ me out. he wanted t’ stay longer for maria just in case but it was a fuckin’ ghost town, nothin’ was even there, but he’s fuckin’ stubborn.” 

you just sighed and let your face rest on his chest as his arm threw over behind you, rubbing the side of your body. “well, you’re home now.” 

he sighed, taking a swig from the beer and moved to put it on the bedside table. he just threw his head back, used his forearm to cover his eyes and breathe in and out. you just looked at him, a little empathetic. 

you started to kiss his chest, the one with the dirty shirt he wore to patrol and up his body, to his neck and jaw. with the movements, you swiftly swung your leg over one side and straddled him, making his arm move and his head tilting down to get a look at you. 

you just watched him, watching you, and smiled as you sat directly on his groin. 

“i know you’re stressed, but,” you started and rubbed over his tummy and pecs, “i need you.” 

you said with lust in your eyes, and he just smirked as he watched you reach under his shirt to feel the warmth of his body. 

“my baby needs me, ‘s that right?” he asked lowly, his voice sounding raspy and gruff. his hands rested on the width of your hips, loving the way you were so curvy and plush for him.

you just nodded, and moved to where you could unbuckle his pants and try to shimmy them down with his help. after you got his pants and boxers to his knees, you spit in your hand and gripped the shaft of his half hard cock. 

“i love you,” you said as you started to feel him harden in your hands, his own hands moving to the tank top you had on and yanking the fabric down to see your breasts. 

“you know i love you, baby,” he said and reached to play with your heavy breasts, tugging your nipple and playing with both of them so he could watch them peak. 

“i’m just real tired, honey,” he started as he felt your grip on his cock soften, and watched your face turn with disappointment until he grabbed your face and made you look at him. 

“you wanna help me out, darlin’?” he asked and you nodded with your eyebrows furrowed, “alright then, come lay down right here,” 

he patted the side of the bed that you slept on, and you let go of his cock before pouting and sliding down to the side next to him. you faced the opposite direction, facing the wall as you heard him get up and start taking all of his clothes off before sliding under the blankets with you. 

“you’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby, such a pretty fuckin’ pussy you have,” he said in your ear as he pulled you flush to his back, gripping your asscheeks before pulling one cheek apart from the other, feeling the wetness you gathered at your cunt. 

“always so wet f’ me, always so good to me,” he breathed on your neck. he felt your legs move apart so he’d have more access, and he just smiled, kissing on your shoulder. 

you didn’t know what he was planning on doing until you felt him guide the tip of his fully hard length up and down your cunt, still using one hand to move the thickness of your ass so he’d have access to your juices.

“joel,” you whined and moved your hips back to his, and finally felt his tip slip inside of you. 

“please,” you begged as he stretched you completely, feeling full even as he’s halfway. 

he lifts the blankets to watch you take him from behind, watching how his cock the was lathered with your juices as he thrusts softly into you before he bottoms out completely. 

but he doesn’t move, and instead kisses on your shoulder before going to your back, kissing there and wrapping his arm around your waist to rest on the fat of your tummy. 

“wait, joel i-” you started before he just squeezed your breast, leaving his hand to rest there. 

“mm-mm, we’re goin’ to sleep,” he said, but the feeling of his cock being buried inside of you was too distracting. you couldn’t sleep. 

“but joel,” you whined, your hand resting on top of his as you felt the heat of his breath against your neck. 

“go to sleep, i promise i’ll give you want you want baby, jus’ let me feel you like this, yeah?” he asks and you involuntarily moan a little, your movements of trying to fuck back on his cock failing. 

“i love feelin’ you like this, sweet girl. could be buried in this fuckin’ cunt for years,” he whispered as he squeezed your tit again, “you fit me so fuckin’ perfectly,” 

“i love when you fill me up, joel,” you whispered ss you hugged his arm, leaving kisses on it and making joel smile against your skin. 

“aw, my baby, loves when i just keep you on my cock, just so i can feel you. love when you keep me warm inside that little fuckin’ cunt,” he growled and you whined, trying to squirm and get some movement in. 

he just holds you tight, not letting you move. the feeling of his cock filling you to the brim made your cunt clench, and he groaned at the feeling. you felt like you were suffocating, practically feeling his cock in your throat as he just laid there behind you and kissed your skin. 

“go to sleep, baby. i promise i’ll make ya cum over n’ over til’ i gotta leave,” he said, and your heart skipped a beat at the proposition.you knew he was telling the truth, because he’s done it before. 

he’s made you soak the sheets before it even hit six in the morning, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you and ravishing in it. the best thing he could ever do with his time is watch you fall apart because of him, and make you feel good. 

so, you fell asleep with him still inside of you, feeling the dull throb of his cock and your cunt mixed together, the feeling of when he would move to pull you closer because he slipped out of you a little bit. 

he craved you, even in his sleep. 

and the next morning when he woke up, he was still buried inside of you and looked at where you two connected, seeing the pool of your arousal leaking onto him, and on the bed. 

so he kept his promise, and used the newfound arousal you built up to slide out of you, and slide right back in. until you woke up, and tightened on his cock as he fucked you awake. 

joel was obsessed with you, and that meant if he could have you sitting on his cock while he did his day to day things, he would. and he’s tried. but feeling you soak him, squeeze him and cry out for him made him feel a whole other type of gratuity. 

you were grateful he was the one that took you in, he was the one that cared for you and protected you, and he was grateful that you let him walk you home that night, grateful that you only trusted him and not anyone else. 

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TAGLIST

@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley @dirtydianaahah

let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist!

[texaschainsawmascara]

Jemima Kirke & Paz de la Huerta

high school circa 2001-2005 / 2013

bonus

[heartshapelocket]

[carm3n-carm3n]

happy new year bitches!!

[ienjoywritingfilth]

Night of the concert deserves a part 2! 🫶

hope u like it and i hope i get some reviews pls. i really love reading them all an i have almost 500 followers!!!!!!!!!!!!

pairing: dbf!Joel x fem!reader

trope Best Friend's Dad! Joel Miller

summary: after a really close call Joel does his best to stay away from his daughter's seductive friend. but all goes awry when she comes to sleep over one weekend.

warnings: age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), dubcon, oral, infidelity, unprotected p in v, absolutely filthy talk, chair sex, creampie, daddy mentioned, somnophilia, other shit i might have forgotten

word count: 6.1k

part ii of 'the night of the concert'

Joel hasn't been able to stop thinking of that night. The night of the concert. The night you threw yourself at him. 

When he frantically fucks his wife it's your cunt he sees behind his eyes. When he drives to work he gets hard as he remembers the way your tits bounced as you rode him. And above all he recalls that sultry voice you put on for him. 

When was the time you fucked college pussy, Joel? 

Not since college. 

You'd been so slick and warm, so perfect around him. Your cunt had the kind of grip that makes his balls tighten just at the memory. 

So when Sarah asks one morning a month or so later if you can spend the night this weekend Joel chokes on his coffee. 

"Her parents are arguing all the time now. Her mom threatened to file for divorce," Sarah says with a frown as Joel wipes at his now stained work shirt.

"I'm not home this weekend," Angie says tapping on her phone before glancing at her husband. "You'll have to check with your dad. But I don't see why not. Right Joel?"

Sarah looks at her dad with pleading eyes. You haven't been over since everything happened and Joel knows it's been hard for Sarah. She has no idea what you did. 

"Right," Joel finally nods, digging into his eggs. "Yea no problem kiddo." 

What else could he say? He's never told his wife or daughter what happened. How could he do that without blowing his life up? 

The entire week leading up to the weekend Joel thinks he'll fuck it out of his system. He goes down on Angie every night that week leading up to her flight. He fucks her in every position and he fucking loves it. So does she, claiming that college Joel is back after one particularly satisfying session. 

But it's not enough. He's taken to sitting in his truck parked in the garage late at night when everyone else is asleep. Only then does he pull up your Instagram and begin stroking his cock vigorously. He watches your reels and pinches to zoom in on photos you took of yourself at the beach. He comes harder to static images of you than inside his own wife and that's how he knows he cannot be anywhere near the house this weekend. 

That Saturday Joel drops Angie off at the airport so she can go on her yearly trip to her sisters back in Colorado. Of all the fucking weeks for her to be away. 

"You gonna have a movie marathon while I'm gone?" His wife grinned at him. "Or just be lazy by the pool?" 

"Thought I might go fishing with Tommy."

Angie's face went grim. "I don't know that I want the girls alone in the house, Joel." 

"Why not?"

"Her friend is going through a tough time," Angie said sympathetically. "Her parents are divorcing and then suddenly we're both gone? I just feel like you should be there for her."

Joel felt his entire body break out in a flush. Angie is so damn thoughtful. It's what he loves the most about her. 

"Okay sweetheart. I'll stay home." 

----------

When you come to the house that sunny Saturday afternoon and knock on the door, Sarah is in the bathroom. Joel hears her calling him from where he sits in the garage reading magazines. 

"Dad? Can you get it?"

Joel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was keeping his promise to Angie, but he didn't want to be thrown into the fucking lions den. 

He feels the sweat accumulating down his back as he tugs the door open. 

You're wearing cut offs and a tight tank top that holds you perfectly. The entire outfit is molded to your body, showing Joel every curve. He can see the red strap of a swimsuit underneath. 

"Hi Joel." 

You smile at him like everything is normal. Like last month you didn't ride him and beg for him to fuck you. 

"Come in," Joel offers. 

"Thanks." 

You're carrying a yellow tote bag covered in lemons. Joel tries to fix his attention on that until Sarah comes to greet you. Southern manners insist he wait with you when everything in him tells him to hightail it the other direction. 

He wills his cock to stay flaccid, but just in case he goes to sit at the kitchen table, muttering that you can join him if you want. You do, slipping into the seat across from him. To your credit you look just as uncomfortable as Joel feels. 

"You want a lemonade?"

"No thanks."

He notices how you twirl a strand of your hair around your finger before anxiously picking at the pale blue polish on your nails. 

"I just wanted to say thank you for not saying anything to Sarah about. You know."

"Of course," Joel says with his neck bobbing as he swallows. "I know how close you two are." 

He doesn't add the other things. I can't stop thinking about it. I want you gagging on my thick cock. I want you bouncing on it again. I wanna fuck you full of my cum. 

"I'm really sorry, Joel."

You say it so sweetly and filled with so much regret that Joel feels like a perfect asshole. Here you are anguished about the entire thing and he's been getting his rocks off to it since it happened. 

Sarah's footsteps are heard on the stairs and you both look to her as she enters the kitchen. 

"Let's go swimming," she announces, grabbing you by the wrist. You giggle, following your friend out into the backyard where the glittering pool awaits. 

Joel tells himself that he just wants to tidy up the house, but it's just denial on his part. From the kitchen he can see into the backyard where the two of you jump into the pool, splashing and giggling. 

He focuses on you, watching the skimpy style of your suit cut into your ass, leaving most of it on display as you pull yourself out of the pool. Was it done intentionally? Were you hoping he'd see? 

Dirty old pervert. She thought she was coming over to see a friend. Not to entertain you. 

Still he watches as you oil yourself up, tugging down the collar of your swimsuit to get as much of your flesh as possible. You look so good from where he's standing, all sun kissed. He can still recall the silky smooth of your thighs. 

He forces himself to putter around the house, not letting himself linger at the windows. He tries to ignore the sound of you splashing. 

When his stomach begins to growl he heads for the fridge, barely able to hold in the groan when he sees you already there, your head ducked in as you search for something. You're completely soaked, your hair damp over your shoulders. The cold of the fridge and your damp suit have your nipples poking through your suit, absolutely begging for his mouth. You must notice Joel because you straighten, looking concerned. 

"Sorry," you say, your body dripping onto the ceramic tile. "Sarah said you had popsicles? She wanted one."

Joel hides the grimace at your words, his cock twitching curiously at the image of you soaking wet and licking a Popsicle. 

"We're all out," he lies. 

"I'll tell Sarah." 

Joel doesn't answer, but he watches your ass jump deliciously as you jog back outside through the sliding doors. 

He runs to the bathroom, the door barely closed as he tugs his cock out of his jeans. He spits into his palm and begins to jerks himself off. Images of your wet body in that skintight suit have him throbbing and releasing ropy strings of cum within seconds.  

He looks up into the mirror and sees the flush to his cheeks. The way his mouth is wet and rouged from biting his moans back. He’s fucking disgusting. But at least now he can get back to normal. Now he can order pizza and eat it with you both before retiring early. 

The pizza arrives just as you and Sarah come in, citing that it's getting cold. You're both wearing the towels around your bodies, but Joel can't help but notice that yours is slipping down, affording him a generous glance if you pointed nipples once more. 

"Gotta send out some quotes," he tells you both as he hands over the BBQ chicken pizza. "You two have a good night."

 He recuses himself to his home office beside the garage, thankful that he made it the entire day without one misstep. There have been too many close calls and too much tension and all of it on his end. He tries to ignore everything and focus on his work. 

"Done in the shower if you want it!" 

Your muffled voice calls out to Sarah, startling Joel from just staring at his computer. 

"Thanks!"

He hears his daughter enter into the washroom, the shower running. The gentle sound of footsteps on carpet stop outside his office door and Joel realizes he's barely breathing. He knows you’re standing on the other side.

Don't come in. 

He watches passively as the door to his office is cracked open and your head peeks in. 

"Hey, can we talk?" 

He's safe behind the desk, he figures. If he does get hard you won't be able to see it. He gives you a patient smile. 

"Of course. Come in."

He regrets it the second he says it because when you come around the door and close it behind you, he sees that you're just wrapped in a towel. You stand on the other side of his desk, all concern and nervous lip biting. 

"I just wanted you to know that when all that stuff happened last month I was in a really bad place," you explain. 

Joel hears you speaking but all he can focus on is that your toenails are peach. That your legs are kissed from the sun and bare. That your breasts swell under the towel. Then he realizes you've stopped talking. You're staring at him quizzically. Shit, did you ask him a question? His chair creaks as he leans back in it. 

"We don't have to keep going over this. I understand." 

You step closer to the desk, nodding. 

"I know. But it's important to me that you know."

Joel feels himself relax and he shuts the laptop. Maybe this evening won't be as stressful as he thought. You’re being mature about everything and he doesn’t want you to be in more pain. Your parents are splitting up, you need support.

"It's important for you to know that I didn't plan it or anything," you emphasize.  

"Okay."

"Not like this time." 

Joel is nodding in understanding when he suddenly freezes. 

"Wait what did you just say?" 

He sees the small curl to the corner of your mouth. You’re amused.

"Sarah mentioned Angie was gone for the weekend. So I told her I was having trouble with my parents and asked if I could stay here. It was the only way I could think of to see you again that wasn't suspicious."  

Joel’s eyes go wide. You make an exaggerated pout when he doesn’t answer.

"Joel I can't stop thinking about how it felt to ride your cock that night." 

Joel almost gasps with how hard he gets at your confession. The head beading with pre-cum, soaking his boxers. 

"I can't stop thinking about that night," you say before slowly slinking towards him when he still doesn't answer. "And I don't think you can either." 

It takes a moment for the words to completely register, but when they do Joel makes sure to lean forward, covering his throbbing erection. 

"You need to leave," he says with what he is praying sounds like authority. "We ain't doing this again." 

Please leave. Please fucking leave. I'm not strong enough. 

"I need something to cum on," you say.

"I don't care," Joel says quickly, his eyes on the floor. "Get out."

"Uh uh," you tease with a smile. "Lean back." 

"Leave."

"Show me."

Joel's cheeks are bright red, sending a thrill through you. With a dejected sigh he moves backward in his office chair, removing his arm from where it was resting over his lap. The thickness of his cock is straining against the zipper of his jeans and he spreads his legs wide, almost challenging. 

"I forgot how big you were Joel," you breathe, coming to stand in between his parted legs. Your hands land on his shoulders so you can lean forward, your mouth at his ear. 

"Remember how it looked fucking my pussy?" 

Joel says nothing but you see his neck bob when he swallows. He's angry and horny and frustration pours off of him in waves. 

"You've had your fun, now get out." 

 You grin to yourself before shaking your head. 

"You don't want me to leave."

Joel opens his mouth to tell you exactly that when your fingers come to the towel folded under your collarbone. Before he can say anything you've unravelled it, letting the towel drop to the floor at your feet. 

"Jesus," Joel croaks. He's never seen your fully naked body before, and now that he has he'll never forget it. All lush curves and perfect fucking tits that make his mouth go dry. Your sweet pussy glistens with arousal. 

"It's okay Joel," you whisper softly as you step towards him, drawing his big palms up with yours. He doesn't fight you on it, not even when you begin pressing them against your waist. "You can touch."

You're still damp from the shower and you smell like his wife's shampoo.

"Shouldn't," he says in a slur, even as his hands grip tightly around your naked waist, pulling you towards him.  

"You should," you coo as you lower yourself into his lap. "We both know how good it feels." 

Your knees are on either side of his thick thighs, holding yourself just above him until you take his cock out from his jeans. Joel says nothing, only watching passively. He can't control it, he can't deny you, and he was an idiot to think he could.  His cock is throbbing by the time you bring him out of his pants, the head sticky with pre-cum. 

"You want me to stop?" You ask playfully, your thumb tracing the slit as he shivers. "You want me to leave?" 

Your hand is going around the shaft and tugging when he tries to answer. Joel groans under his breath. 

"We shouldn't..." Joel says it but there's no power behind it, especially when your hand slides down the base, twisting when you reach the springy hair there dense and lush.

"We really shouldn't," you whisper, your mouth sensual as you bite your lower lip in a mockery of regret. "It would be so bad of us."  

You tease the tip of him between your pussy lips, gliding the head between the seam, tickling your clit. Joel feels his eyes roll back at the pleasurable sensation before he forces them open so he can watch. 

"You think about me when you're with her don't you?" You whisper with a Cheshshire grin. "You think about fucking this tight little cunt when you're with your wife, don't you Joel?"

Yes, he does. But he'll never admit that to you. Instead he's silent, just watching you line the head up with your dripping hole.  It looks so good, so perfect and wet. The warmth of you teases the head of his cock and he suddenly can’t take it anymore.

"Put it in," Joel instructs throatily. 

You nod excitedly, crouching and just about to lower yourself onto his length when the shower down the hall suddenly turns off. Your eyes go wide, the realization that Sarah is going to be exiting the shower any second. 

“I better go.”

But Joel is in a frenzy, the scent of you in the air and your wet cunt dripping onto his cock. 

“You wanted this cock," Joel murmurs before grabbing your thighs and spreading them widely over his lap. "Show me how much you want it."

You gasp at the intrusion of his thick cock, your hands flying to lace around his neck as he urges you to take him deeper. 

"She's she's gonna. . . Gonna be out," you groan, sinking into his lap.

He feels you hesitate before he starts rolling his hips and you welcome him deep. You don't want to fight it. 

"Just for a minute," Joel says, pulling you further down onto it. Your thighs spread and he watches your pussy swallow him. “Show me how bad you want this cock.”

"I do," you groan with your head lolling back. "But we're gonna get caught.”

Despite this your cunt twitches around him, your eyes beginning to shutter.

"Show me how you fuck a married man," Joel growls against your temple, starting to bounce you in his lap. "Remind me why I need this cunt."

Instinctively at his words you start to bounce on it. It's wrong, it's so fucking wrong but it gets you so wet. You're rolling your hips when you hear the door to the bathroom creak open. You nearly leap out of your skin. You shoot a wide eyed look of concern at Joel. He raises a forefinger to his plush lips, signalling for you to be quiet. 

You try to pull yourself off of Joel's lap but he shakes his head before burying himself deeper into you. He puts his hand over your mouth when you begin to whine. 

Your feet don't touch the ground. They just bounce in the air as he fucks up into your swollen cunt. You're drifting into a haze of pleasure when there's a knock at the door and Sarah's voice floats in. 

"Dad, have you seen---" 

You're bouncing on his lap, your tits jumping. Joel gropes them, his eyes on your body even as he speaks. 

"Your friend was in the backyard last time I checked," Joel says as he fucks up into you, watching the way your brows knit together. "Try there." 

"Okay."

Sarah leaves the hallway and Joel can only grin at your cock -drunk expression. You’re close, and it only takes a practised rub of his thumb on your clit to have you whining into his palm, your arousal dripping down his cock. He pulls you off of him, amused at the soft whine you utter. 

"Sarah's gonna figure out pretty quick that you're not out there," he tells you. "Head out." 

He says it with authority and for once you listen. You nod, pulling the towel back around your body and slipping out the door. Joel is still sitting here, his cock hard and soaked with you. 

----------

It's only a matter of time before he hears the two of you giggling as you watch a movie, chattering away. He knows Sarah pretty well, she'll be asleep soon. She's never been able to stay awake during any movie they start this late. 

Your laughter peals through the house and Joel feels his tummy tighten. When he sees his cock lengthening under his sweats he's disgusted. 

What the fuck is wrong with him? The shit he said and did. That wasn't him! He's never talked like that. And yet the memory already serves to get him throbbing. He should go to bed, should do anything but sit here turned on out of his mind. He hears padding of feet and knows that you and Sarah must be heading to bed.  

“Night Dad!”

“Night babygirl.”

He waits for the door to shut, counting fifteen minutes before exiting the office. He sees no lights on under his daughter's door. Good, you're both asleep. He creeps towards the kitchen, planning on grabbing a piece of pizza and a water before retiring for the night. He's wandering in the dark home on his way when a shape on the couch stops him. 

It's you, sleeping on the couch. You're wearing a skimpy pyjama shorts and white tank top. Your breasts are rising and falling with each inhale of breath. He comes closer, standing next to the sofa and watching you sleep. 

You’re beautiful like this. All vulnerable, your face smooth. He can't stop looking at your tits through your shirt, missing them already. He can't help it; they fit so perfectly in his hands. Without further thought he tugs the shirt down, letting your breasts spill out and the nipples are already tight buds when they touch the air  You stir briefly at the sensation but remain blissfully asleep.

Joel watches your face, waiting for you to do anything but you continue to sleep. Your lips are parted as you inhale softly. Joel feels hypnotized as he pulls his heavy cock from his sweatpants, already drooling with pre-cum. 

He presses the warm, spongy tip of his cock to your soft lips, feeling like every nerve in him is on fire the second they touch. Pre-cum clings to your pouty, parted lips when he pulls back and he feels his balls tighten at the sight.

Just a little inside, he reasons. You'll never know. Your mouth is so warm and tight and he'll stop before you wake up. 

With slow precision he slips the head between your parted lips, hissing at the wet scorch of your mouth. He feeds his cock slowly into the welcoming warmth, eyes fixed on your face. You’re still placid, huffing a bit in your sleep before settling again.

It’s so wrong to take you like this but Joel can’t stop himself. He saws in and out of your mouth and his movements are frustratingly slow. The tip of his cock is coated in your saliva, but he's desperate to go deeper. He can't stop himself. He thrusts in, feeding it over your wet tongue with a grunt. 

He's hardly surprised when you suddenly blink your eyes open. You're groggy from sleep when his find him standing next to the sofa. His thick, hard cock slowly flexing into your mouth.  You go to pull back in surprise but his hand cradles the back of your skull, keeping you in place. 

"You're okay," he murmurs down at you. "Shhhh."  

He tenses and waits for you to pull back from him. He is sure he'll hear your screaming echo through the house. And he'd deserve it: he's been fucking your mouth for the last two minutes. He's surprised when instead you move your face forward, sucking him deeper. Lightning bolts shoot down from the top of his head and he holds in a moan. 

Your hand comes to stroke the base of his fat cock as your mouth forms a tighter O shape. Joel tilts back, pelvis jutting forward into your mouth. You take him down to the base, your head bobbing along him. 

He watches you take him deeper into your mouth, drooling around him with your eyes gazing up at him. He can see your free hand snake down under the blankets, rubbing furiously and he grins.

"You wanted this didn't you?" 

You nod shallowly around his girth, letting him shove his cock deeper down your throat. He fucks your face slowly, taking his time to pull out, your bottom lip cradling the head before thrusting in over your waiting tongue. 

Joel slowly removes himself from your mouth. He isn't going to be satisfied with fucking just your throat. Wordlessly he tugs the blanket off of your lower half, not even stopping to look at you when he hooks his thick fingers around the waistband of your pyjama pants. You lift up, helping him to tug them off and toss them onto the floor. 

You don't speak; unlike last time you both know you have to be quick and quiet. Sarah could wake up at any minute. That’s part of what makes it hot for you, knowing that your best friend’s dad has his thick cock out, ready to fuck you on the family couch.

Joel tugs his sweatpants all the way off, throwing them to the end of the couch before crawling over you. His large body covers you and its mere seconds before he's pressing his cock against your slippery pussy lips. 

He pulls down your tank top more, wanting your tits to be fully exposed to him. The pink nipples harden under his ravenous gaze. You murmur in surprise when he tilts you back, lifting your breast to his mouth and sucking in one achy nipple. 

You gasp at the sensation, your cunt tightening around his cock. Joel groans against your chest, his big hand hand moving to do the same with the other. Soon enough your nipples are wet with his saliva. He watches your head fall back, already so turned on about the illicitness of what's going on. Joel grins wolfishly, grabbing his throbbing cock by the base and slapping it against your clit. 

"You want this married cock?" Joel grunts down at you quietly, watching as your eyes fight to stay open on his face. 

"Yes," you slur already drunk on him and the moment. "Fuck yes I want your married cock."

 You give a little whine, your body shifting under him desperate for friction. Joel watches the needy way you move for him, trying to urge the head of his cock between your spread thighs.

"Beg for it," Joel whispers gravelly. His voice is hard and hushed in the darkness. 

"Please," you whisper without any hesitation. "I need it in me." 

Joel feels heady with power when he hears your desperate supplication. Your hips are arching to meet his. 

"Again," he hisses, slapping his cock harsher against your mound. You whimper back, tits bouncing as you take in the jolt of pleasure. 

"I'll do anything you want," you promise, rolling your hips up against him. He releases his cock, letting your hips maneuver until he's nestled at your entrance. "I'll give you anything, anything. Just fuck me with your big cock, please." 

Joel should make you keep begging for all you've put him through, but you're soaking him and he hasn't even entered you yet. If he wasn't rushed he'd take you apart piece by piece until your were a slobbering mess. But he needs to rush. 

He holds himself on his forearms, caging you underneath him and grunting as he starts to feed his cock into you. Your arms go around his shoulders before you bury your face in his neck. 

Fuck you're tight. Your pussy a velvet clench that welcomes him, moulding around him. He grunts into your hair as he buries himself deeper, holding in groans when he hears your desperate whimpers for him to go deeper. 

When your ass hits his pelvis you swallow and whimper lustily in his ear. 

"M'so full, Mr. Miller." 

Joel has to clench just teeth from moaning. You know exactly what you're doing using that name and you both know it. You make an achy groaning sound, like he’s so fuck you can barely stand it.

He thrusts into you, watching with satisfaction as your tits jiggle deliciously for him. He doesn't see the smile spreading across your features. And now for the first time in the evening you speak in that low, seductive purr.

"Fucking a college girl with your married cock," you say nibbling his ear, feeling him falter. "And you're so hard aren't you? You like doing bad things, huh?" 

Joel grits his teeth, trying to ignore you and just cum. You're just a vessel for his seed right now. Your body bows underneath him, pliant and willing. 

"Is that it, Joel? You pretend to be a good man but at the end of the day look at you," you say, letting him bounce you harshly along his cock. "Fucking a girl half your age on your couch when your wife is out of town." 

"Shut the fuck up." 

Joel gives a growl and you gasp as he maneuvers your legs up, pressing them between your bodies. He's folding you in half and before you can say anything he's entering you brutally once more.  

The slaps of his balls against your ass are no longer muffled, but neither of you notice. You're both so far gone, practically animalistic at this point. Joel is sweating, his hair falling into his eyes as he draws out and slams back into you. He enjoys the sight of your tits rippling when he does. 

"Just admit it," your murmur between slaps as you bounce under him. "Admit you wanted to do this a month ago."

"I did," Joel grunts into your neck even though it shames him to admit it. "I did okay?" 

"Yeah, you did," you say with a soft giggle that’s girlish and cruel. "You wanted this pussy." 

His hips slap against your ass more quickly, several harsh thrusts before he stops, panting. You're smiling up at him, looking more devious than normal. He grips your wrists, holding them above your head, stretching you out before he pulls out and slams back into you. 

"You gonna shoot your cum deep, Joel?" You ask with your tits bouncing in his face as he fucks you into the sofa. "Gonna watch me push it out?"

He groans gently as he slaps his hips against yours, his cock sawing in and out of you. He watches your body twitch, your hips rolling the best they can in your position. And then suddenly he feels his release imminent.

He pulls out of you, going to kneel on either side of your waist. You pout in disappointment. He grunts, jerking himself off aggressively, his teeth clenched and his wrist moving jerkily. You cup your breasts, silently presenting him his target. His cum soon splashes over your tits in milky ropes as he breathes raggedly. 

And he should be finished. He's fucked you, he's cum. You're both panting and flushed but Joel is mortified to find he's not close to being finished.

"I'm still fucking hard," Joel groans.

He's still so turned on, shocked at how good you feel even after he's cum. It's been decades since he could fuck like this. He still sits up on his knees, but now he taps your thigh.

"Ass up. Now." 

You do as he asks, presenting yourself to him without question. He grips handfuls of your ass, letting them fall together and clap for him before marvelling at your messy pussy as you arch your back for him. You're so fucking puffy and slick. Once again he slides in, pressing you into the couch underneath him. 

You both gasp at how good it feels, your hand going to clench his stationed on your hip. Joel's mouth is at your ear. 

"Just tonight and never again." 

He needs to make it clear that after tonight this is done. No more games, no more seductions. This one night is all you get. He gradually picks up speed, watching your ass jump as he pulls out and thrusts as deep as possible. You look so good from this angle, all submissive.  

"Need more," you groan over your shoulder. 

"You're gettin' more sweetheart," Joel pants against your ear before straightening, his hands coming to spread your cheeks so he can watch himself pulling out. You coat the length of his cock in cum, leaving it shiny when he pulls out to admire how it looks. You feel even better when he then feeds it back into your twitching pussy. 

"Yes, yes," you moan quietly, your hands gripping the arm of the couch in front of you. You bury your face in the pillow, not wanting your moans to be heard. You know you're drooling, your body his to use and to fuck.  

"Gonna fuck your ass next," Joel promises as he thrusts, not knowing where this beast inside him came from. He gives your ass a slap. "You want that? Want me to fuck this sweet little ass?" 

You want to nod but all your energy has left you; you just lay there and take him, feeling his fat cock filling you to the brim over and over. He forces your wrists behind your back, pinning them there at the base of your spine as he drives himself deeper. You're at his mercy and the realization makes everything in him tighten. He can do whatever he wants with you tonight.

"Joel you're so deep," you moan into the couch cushion, your body jolting with every jerk of his hips.

The blanket is forgotten on the ground, your naked bodies writhing on the couch in the very spot where you first rode him. Only now instead of being a reluctant participant Joel is in full control, his large body covering yours, flattening you against the cushions as he fucks into you from behind. 

"I fucking deserve this," Joel mutters out between thrusts, tilting back his head. "Deserve to fuck this pretty pussy all night don't I?"

"Yes," you slur. 

Your head tilts to the side, your cheek crushed against the cushion. Drool seeps out the corner of your mouth, your eyes rolled back into your head as the pleasure overtakes your body. 

Joel feels animalistic, he feels powerful looking down at your body at his mercy. For a moment he feels affection for how much you clearly want this and want him. The look on your face is pure bliss. 

"Gonna bounce for me after this," Joel tells you in an urgent whisper. "Gonna fuck you in my bed and you're gonna bounce on my cock."

"Yes." 

"Gonna fuck you until you can't move," Joel promises, feeling lightheaded at the possibility of fucking you in that most sacred space. 

Your eyes crack open and you glance up over your shoulder to see him red-faced, shiny with sweat, his teeth bared. His eyes are bright and almost feral, like a wild animal. He's beautiful in his ferocity. 

"Finish inside me, Joel."

Joel knows that he should stop right now. He should grab a condom. He should check that you're on the pill. He should do so many things but all Joel can think of is filling you full of his seed. Of watching it drip out of your used pussy. 

"I need to feel you cum inside," you groan gently, looking at him over your shoulder. "Please fuck your cum deep in me, daddy." 

Joel holds in an eye roll.

This daddy shit again. 

He thinks about ignoring it or denying you a chance to hear him say it. But you've been so good for him, so eager and so fucking tight. He's never going to forget the velvet clutch of you, how you're perfectly moulded for him, how responsive you are. He lowers his mouth to your ear, releasing your hands. 

"Daddy's gonna fuck his cum so deep," Joel relents. "Gonna fuck you with his married cock. Gonna fuck his cum so deep you’ll be dripping for days." 

"Fuck, yes," you moan into the pillows, your ass jiggling with every thrust. "Fuck it deep, Daddy!"

He watches the frenzy you work yourself into, gripping the side of the sofa and fucking yourself on Joel's cock by moving yourself back and forth. It's only seconds before you cum hard, drowning Joel's cock in arousal once more as your eyes pinch tightly. 

"Daddy . . .  Daddy . . .  Daddy . . . "

It's a murmured chorus, a desperate plea as you ride your high, collapsing forward, only to have Joel continue pounding into you.  Joel is so close, he feels his balls tightening as he fucks into you with brutality, the sharp slaps filling the room. 

"Gonna take my cum like a good little whore," He groans, his cock almost a blur as he slides in and out of you. He pulls himself completely out before burying himself once more.  

"Fuck yea I am," you moan softly, wishing you could see his face as he pounds into you. "I'm your good little cum-whore, Daddy."

Something about that phrase in your broken, whimpering voice has him there at the edge. His hands go to yours curled over the couch arm once more. He covers them with his own, using the momentum to pound into you as deep as physically possible. You head jerks with the power of his body driving into yours, your body completely at his mercy, your ass rippling with each thrust of him.

"Take Daddy's cum now," Joel groans, pushing in as deep as he can go. "Take it and---"

Anything else Joel was about to say vanishes as the room lights up and the familiar visage of his wife Angie appears her hand on the light switch.

She looks confusedly around before her eyes rest on the scene before her. She looks to see her husband curled over you, his cock wet and free of a condom. She sees the way your eyes are rolled body and how your body is positioned, succumbing to his violent thrusts before caught, Joel attempts to stop. 

But he's too far gone, the buildup already mounting and before Joel can move you off of him or do something to salvage this, he comes violently.  

And then so do you.