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strangelysamantha · 21 hours ago

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leverage ☆

rafe cameron x fem!reader.

warnings: kidnapping, violence, mention of drugs, swearing, rude comments, guns, abuse, threats.

summary: when barry doesn’t get his money from rafe, he goes to the next best thing. you.

a/n: thought about this randomly haha. i hope you enjoy and if you do, please like and comment! :) requests are open and even if you don’t have a request, you can always ask a question or tell a funny joke instead. <3

master list is pinned.

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“if you don’t give me the money, your ass is gonna be sorry.” barry stared at rafe while he ran his hands through his hair. “i promise. i’ll get you the money, man. i just need some time.” barry laughs, “you better or this won’t be pretty.” barry hesitated before continuing, “and, i mean you don’t have a lot of time. i'd say a week max.” rafe nodded, understanding. “alright. i’ll get it, don’t worry.” barry laughs, “i’m not worried, trust me on that.” he smirked before walking inside his trailer. rafe hopped on his motorcycle, speeding away. his mind running as he thought of ways to come up with twenty grand. he only had a week, and he was definitely stressing out.

rafe didn’t inform you about his entanglement with barry. perhaps if he had brought it up, you wouldn’t be where you were currently. you were working, just going on about your day. a customer had asked you to walk them to your car. it was an elderly woman; you couldn’t deny her some assistance. you smile, “of course! which car is yours?” you asked, heading towards the parking lot.

in retrospect you should have concluded how abnormal it was for an elderly woman to have parked so far away in such a dark car. she laughed once you approached the car, and that was when a rock was smashed against your skull. then a sack was thrown over your head. rope contained your hands, forcing them against your back, burning from the fiction of the rope rubbing together.

you stopped fighting, realizing it was useless, and whoever was kidnapping you would only become more agitated and aggressive. you were pushed into what felt like a backseat, a needle inserted into your arm, making you unconscious.

the next time you wake up, it’s in an unfamiliar room. it’s dark, and humid. you try and lift your arms but realize they were still held together firmly, with rope behind your back. as well as your wrists, your ankles were tied together too. you tried to speak, and surprisingly your voice, despite being hoarse, was able to make noise. “hello?” you called out.

barry walks in, a gun in his hand. “oh wakey wakey sunshine.” your face twists with confusion

. “i- what? why? why am i tied up? what’s going on?” you bombard him with questions he never answers. “that boyfriend of yours… he’s not going to be so happy now, is he? he’s short, 20 grant short, and because he can’t pay me, i’m gonna take the next valuable thing he has. that’s you.” you close your eyes, inhaling deeply. you didn’t want to freak out and spiral. “he’s not my boyfriend. i mean what the fuck barry?” you stared up at him. “oh, oh shit. you actually aren’t rafe's girlfriend?” you roll your eyes. “no. he doesnt want to date me.” you frown at your own confession. barry looks at you with sympathy. it didn’t last though, now he was overwhelmed because the leverage he thought he had wasn’t even leverage. “shit… man.”

rafe on the other hand, was terrified. while rafe wasn’t your boyfriend, he definitely liked you the most out of all of his friends. he concluded that he loves you, but he’s been too scared to make any moves. that wasn’t what terrified him though, what was currently nagging at rafe was the fact that you hadn’t met with him. the two of you had a daily schedule that included you stopping by his house after work.

with you not stopping by his house, on top of you not answering his texts. he began to feel worried. rafe's phone dinged indicating he got a message, and he practically sprinted to the phone. he saw a message from barry, it was a video. he hesitated before opening it. his eyes widened in horror as the video he was watching was of you. a gun pressed against your temple while you were tied up in a chair.

he tightened his grip around his phone, his jaw clenched, and chest heavy. he examines the video playing in front of him, inspecting it to see if he recognizes the background. rafe’s heart hurts as he has to rewatch you fear for your life due to his mistakes. he unfortunately didn't recognize the background.

he didn’t have time to play games, he immediately responded to barry. he shot back a text, asking why the fuck he had you, and where he was. barry immediately responded, do you have the money? rafe groaned, his hands on his head as he paced around his living room. his heart was stinging at the thought of the situation he had put you in. he should have saw this coming, should have noticed that you were the thing barry could ruin.

you stared at barry, tears welling in your eyes. he frowned at your condition, "poor girl, i'm sorry you're in the middle of this, but i'm not letting rafe get away with robbing me." you gasp for air, "please don't kill me." he sighed, bending down in front of your chair, he moved your hair out of your face. "i'm not going to hurt you sweetheart. i know its dramatic, but you won't be harmed," he smirks to himself, "how about you help me?" your face contorts into confusion, "how?" you look away. "how much does rafe care about you?" you sigh, unsure of how to respond. "tell me or there will be issues. i said i wouldn't kill you, but that's only if you cooperate with me."

"he said before that he loves me, he wants us to date, but when i asked him, he told me he had bigger stuff on his plate. he wouldn't have time for me. after that, it became weird..." your voice trails off, he hums in response. "i see, so he loves you, but he's worried he'll corrupt you." you nod slightly. "you're the only girl in his life, yeah?" you shrug, "yeah, but even then, he won't date me." this causes a smirk to hang on barry's lips. "what if we got back at him? he dragged you along, and he stole my money. what if we worked together?" the thought of backstabbing rafe made you nauseous. barry could tell you were reluctant. "do it or i will make sure he'll never be able to find you again, you'll be deep in the ocean with no chance of being discovered." his words terrified you, "okay, okay. just tell me what to do." he hands you your phone. "you're gonna call him. tell him you're okay. say that i let you go, out of the kindness of my heart." you nod sheepishly. dialing his number, rafe immediately picks up.

"are you okay? what's going on?" you sigh, "i'm okay, he let me go." your words shock rafe, he's silent. "i don't know, he just let me go out of the kindness of his heart. i'm okay." he's relieved, but he's aware that he still had a lot of cash he needed before he could make it right. "can we meet?" he asks. you look up at barry and he shakes his head no. "uh maybe in a bit. i'm a little shaken up. i want to shower and have some time y'know?" you explain. "i understand, just call me whenever you're ready, okay?" you smile softly, "of course, goodbye." you hang up, barry claps. "very good performance, i even believed it."

"what's your plan?" he grins happy you asked. "you're gonna be my girlfriend. you're gonna stay here with me, help me bag up the drugs, count cash, and when rafe decides to return the money, he'll see you here with me. we will kiss or whatever, and you're going to tell him that you saw the good in me. that you fell so hard at my words. rafe will realize he waited too long." while the idea of this was supposed to upset you, the thought of rafe seeing what he was missing out on, gave you a sort of edge. you thought that maybe you can come out of this with rafe announcing his love for you. "okay. will you drive me to mine? i want to change out of my greasy work clothes." he grins grabbing his keys, "of course baby." you narrowed your eyes at him, "just because were pretending to date doesn't mean you have to call me cute names." he chuckles, "we need to practice that way its convincing."

you sigh realizing how deep of a mess you were actually in. it made you feel better knowing that you weren't actually trying to do anything. you had to do this, barry had put your life on the line. if you didn't obey his every order, you could find yourself tied back up in a chair. "okay. how will we make this convincing?" he chuckles, "itll be easy. we're gonna get you cleaned up, then i'm going to have rafe meet me here. he'll see you working for me and man he'll get so angry."

you nod, and he unties you from the chair. he leads you to his motorcycle, speeding off to your house. upon arrival, he allows you to go inside to change. “i’m coming with. no time for any games.” you scoff but head inside. he follows you to your room, you hop into the shower. barry looks around your room. seeing your decor, jewelry; and photos of you and friends. he quirks a small smile, barry was very impressed by himself. he figured this was probably his best idea yet. once out of the shower you change into shorts and a shirt. you hesitate when you saw your reflection in the mirror. you were terrified of what might happen.

“so, we need to wait a few days, make it seem like it has time to naturally develop, yknow?” you nod, “yeah that makes sense.” he holds his hand out. “i’m gonna need your phone.” you roll your eyes, “why?” he tsks, coming into your personal space. “because i don’t trust you.” he snatches your phone from you, drafting out a text for rafe. going to need some time, today was a lot. i’m sorry. he smiles, satisfied with the text, he sends it. your heart swells again, fear crowding your senses. “pack a bag.” you nod following his instructions.

“okay good.” he picks up your bag, “we’re going back to mine, i need some help.” you cowardly follow him out of your own house, getting back onto his motorcycle. your head was swarming, but you tried to clear it as best as you could. you arrived back at barry’s trailer, heading inside, he sets you up with a scale to help him measure out his drugs. you sigh but start to fill the baggies. “good, you work on this for a bit and i’ll be back later.” he speeds away, and you continue the task.

shortly after, you hear a motorcycle approaching. assuming it’s barry you don’t move, continuing so he doesn’t yell at you. after four loud bangs, you can hear rafe on the other side of the door. you nervously glance around. unfortunately, barry had your phone. despite how badly you wanted to open the door, you knew barry would freak out on you. rafe looks around his hands on his head. “yo i got your money, c'mon man.” barry pulls up, seeing rafe.

“what was that?” rafe suddenly turns around. “i have your cash.” barry, impressed by how quickly rafe managed to get the money, eagerly smirked. “alright come in, we gotta count it.” rafe shakes his head but follows inside. at first, he doesn’t notice you, already used to barry having guest over. barry plops the heavy bag onto the floor, pulling out the stacks of cash. “ooh this shit is nice.” rafe chuckles, “i follow through on my deals, so we good?” he looked over, realizing who was actually messing with his drugs. “what the fuck is she doing here?” you struggle to make eye contact with rafe, your heart hurting. “you told me he let you go?” you look down, staying silent. barry intervenes, “well girls like men who are up front about how they feel…” he chuckles darkly, “wait too long to express it and then you’ll lose em’. ain’t that right pretty girl?” you look up at barry, his eyes locked on yours. “yes that’s right.” rafe could feel his anger boiling over him. he couldn’t believe it. “you really like this fucking loser?” you stop weighing the drugs, finally managing to meet his gaze.

“she’s perfectly content with me country club.” rafe's hands form into a fist. “nah this isn’t right.” he walks closer to you, bending down. he gets onto your level. he stares at barry. “i need to hear it from her.” you swallow a deep gulp, rafe being close to you now. “tell me,” you glance between the two men in front of you. fear settling over you, unsure of what to do. on one hand you weren’t sure if barry was still intent on doing the jealousy gig, but you knew rafe was vulnerable and you couldn’t hurt his feelings.

looking at barry, he mouths a “tell him.” you nod, “look i know it’s really sudden rafe. and i’m really sorry…” your words sting his heart, and his face falls. he doesn’t say anything. “he is just really funny. and he’s sweet to me.” rafe chuckles, unable to control his venomous anger. “yeah and i wasn’t fucking sweet to you? i did everything for you.” you roll your eyes, getting into character. “you LIE. you were the reason i got kidnapped. you don’t tell me how you feel, but i’m just supposed to wait around until YOU feel like the timing is right?” his eyes zoned in on you, he looked you up and down, noticing the powder on your fingers.

he was stuck, he knew something was off. you’d never willingly mess around with drugs, and you definitely wouldn’t be slumming it with barry of all people. “what’s he got you into?” disgust forms on his face, he looks between the two of you, scoffing. you have nothing else to say, so you look at barry. he nods in approval, and you have to hold in a sigh of relief. “see? i keep her tamed.” your face twisted in confusion in a slight second, and rafe caught on. “are you done counting yet? or do you need me to do it for you?” barry laughs, “it’s all here. your debt is paid.” barry places the money back into the bag, “are we done here?” rafe looks at you one more time, “yeah we’re done here.”

without a second of hesitation, he leaves the trailer. his hands cover his face, trying to steady his breathing. he couldn’t fight the anger that was creeping in.

back in barry’s trailer, he’s laughing mischievously. “that went perfect.” you frown, “am i done?” he sighs, “what, are you not having any fun?” you look around, “no, i just am tired. i worked all day and i just want to go to bed. in my bed.” he thinks for a moment. “fine, i’ll take you to yours. get some beauty sleep, but you’re stuck with me for awhile. rafe was on an ego trip regardless. he needs this.” you smile. “thank you.” you grab your bag, and head outside. you see rafe standing against his bike. you glance at him frowning. you wish he could drive you back home.

at your house, barry allows you to have your phone back on the one condition; you wouldn’t rat out the plan to rafe. you agreed, thankful to be able to rest alone. today had been so exhausting. you change into pajamas, hopping into bed. you look at your phone, seeing the numerous missed texts and calls from rafe. you frown, you felt so lost.

after a few minutes of lying in bed, you hear the doorbell ring. you didn’t want to answer it, but you were the only one home at the moment. you head downstairs, opening the door. rafe stands before you, “can we talk?” you move out of the way and invite him inside. “yeah, of course.” he follows you up to your room. you sit on your bed, and he’s pacing your room back and forth.

“do you actually like barry?” you stand up grabbing him, and he settles down. “no, not at all. he told me i had to do this to get back at you or he’d kill me.” rafe stares directly into your eyes, he grabs your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. he pulls away gently, “i really love you.” he squeezes you tightly; “when i thought he got you… i wanted to kill him.” you place your hand on his cheek. “it hurt me so bad but i didn’t know what else to do.” he frowns at you, “it’s not your fault, i don’t blame you at all.” you pull him into a hug, and he squeezes you firmly, worried to lose you.

“he said we have to keep it going for a week or so.” rafe nods understandingly, “okay. are you willing to do that?” you look down, but he places a hand on your chin to make you look up at him again. “are you comfortable with that?” you close your eyes taking a deep breath, “no, but i have to be.” he groans, “this is all my fault. i’m so sorry.” you sit on the bed, and he joins you. “we’ll get through this. one week and then i’m all yours.” he places his hand on your thigh, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “i’ll be here to protect you.” you kiss him again, “that’s the only motivation i need rafe.” he grins. “if it gets too bad, i’ll fuck some shit up for you.” you nod, “thank you rafe.”

#rafe cameron x reader #fiction #writing #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader angst #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron angsts #rafe cameron x plus!reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #barry x reader #barry obx

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nessa007 · 1 day ago

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billboard putting drake at number 4 and britney at number 6 in their list of greatest pop stars of the 21st century

#who is making this list lmao #britney should actually be in the top 2 #text post

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thegoldensanctuary · 2 days ago

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Part VI: The 1702 Summer Set(N⁰ 1379) :

Tradition required the bedchamber decor to be changed twice a year, alternating between a winter set and a summer one. Although set 1881 is not explicitly referred to as the winter set in the Garde-Meuble until 1740 [125], André Félibien informs us that the practice of using red velvet for winter in the King’s bedchamber predated 1701 [126]. If set 1881 was already used for winter by 1701, then which set was used as a summer replacement in 1702? The answer can be found in the 1708 inventory [127], where a set of silver-background brocade is listed under number 1379. Set 1379 was initially delivered in May 1689 as an augmentation of set 867, delivered nine years earlier for the bath apartments [128].

6.1 The Tapestry Itself

Described in 1680 as alternating narrow pieces of two different brocades—one “silver background with figures of a shepherd and shepherdess” and the other “gold and silver with rinceau, outlined at the edge with ponceau” [129]—the 1689 Garde-Meuble entry, while consistent in describing the shepherd silver brocade, specifies that the other had a green background but omits the rinceau ornaments. The most complete description appears in the 1708 inventory: “Rich furniture of two brocades, one with silver background with figures of shepherd and shepherdess in gold and silver, and the other with green background chiseled with gold and with flowers of silver and gold” [130].

The 1689 delivery was intended to fill an alcove with eight pieces of silver shepherd brocade and seven pieces of the green brocade [131]; this layout remained the same in the 1701 bedchamber [132].

6.2 The Bed

The main element of set 1379 was its state bed, impressive in its dimensions. Its components were as follows:

No Headboard: None of the descriptions indicate the presence of a headboard.

The Headcloth: Described in 1689 as being like the curtains, “of ponceau brocade” [133]. As seen in Part 6.1, no ponceau brocade is mentioned in the set; instead, the color ponceau only appears as a border for the green-background brocade. This discrepancy is later clarified in 1708 when the curtains and headcloth are accurately described as “green background brocade with flowers of gold and silver outlined at the edge with ponceau” [134].

The Valences: Unlike previous descriptions, a more precise one does not come from the 1708 inventory, where they are mentioned along with the cantonières, bonne grace, and bases as simply being of “shepherd brocade” [135], but from the May 1689 Garde-Meuble entry, which states: “Three outer valences, with additional buttonholes, shells, tassels, and other embroidery taken from the campane left from the frieze of the tapestry; four inner valences. The seven valences [three outer + four inner] are entirely of the shepherd brocade, garnished at the bottom by large campane embroidery and at the top and sides by smaller campanes, with ponceau gros de tours lining” [136].

The Curtains: The fabric for the curtains matched the set: some were of shepherd brocade, while others were of the green brocade.The 1689 description specifies that the two bonne graces, two cantonières, and three bases were of the shepherd brocade, while the four outer-layer curtains were of the “ponceau brocade” [137]. As with the headcloth, the term "ponceau brocade" actually refers to the “green background brocade with flowers of gold and silver outlined at the edge with ponceau,” as inferred from the 1708 inventory [138].

The Quilt: Described in both 1689 and 1708 as being of “ponceau brocade” [139], the same caution regarding interpretation should be applied as above.

The Case Curtain: Made of 24 pieces of green taffeta sewn together, with large and medium gold and silver fringes at the bottom and sides [140].

The Columns: The two front columns were covered in sheaths: one in a brocade featuring Solomonic columns embroidered in gold and silver on a crimson satin background, and the other in a brocade with silver stripes and satin stripes adorned with gold and silver floral embroidery [141].

The Vases/Finials: Four in total (one at each corner), filled with feathers. No further information about the materials used is provided.

6.3 The Armchairs and Stools

The original 1680 description briefly mentions the presence of two armchairs [142].

In 1689, the armchairs and stools received new frames, which were “gilded and silver-plated.” The 12 stools from 1680 were replaced with eight folding stools at that time [143].

The armchairs were entirely covered with shepherd brocade on the backrest, seat, and armrests, with silver and gold braid and campane ornaments. The folding stools, on the other hand, had cushions made from a square of shepherd brocade surrounded by “ponceau brocade.” This term appears in both the 1689 Garde-Meuble entry [144] and the 1708 inventory [145]. We learn from the 1689 entry that there was not enough campane to decorate all eight folding stools; there was barely enough for six, and the remaining two had to rely on gold fringes instead [146]. This issue seems never to have been addressed, as the 1708 description notes this disparity as well [147].

These stools and armchairs were later encountered long after being removed from the bedchamber and returned to the Garde-Meuble, specifically in the 1775 general inventory of the Garde-Meuble, where they appear under number 106 among the brocade furnishings [148]. In this final description, we learn that, just as in 1708, the disparity in campane ornaments remained unaddressed and that the “ponceau brocade” mentioned in the 1689 and 1708 descriptions surrounding the shepherd brocade was, as expected, actually “of chiseled green background brocade, with silver and gold flowers” [149].

An additional armchair belonging to set 1870 is also listed in the 1708 inventory.

6.4 The Fire Screen

The fire screen was a new addition for the 1701 central bedchamber, as it was not part of the original delivery of set 1379 from May 1689. The 1708 inventory offers a lengthy description worth quoting in full:

“Fire screen with slide [écran à coulisse], covered on each side with a square of silver background brocade with vine, from which a grape hangs, with a shepherdess at the center enclosed by strips of green background brocade chiseled with gold, with gold and silver floral ornaments outlined at the edge with ponceau, garnished by a thin gold braid hiding the seam, with sculpted and gilded wood” [150].

6.6 The Table and Tablecloth

In 1689, at the initial delivery of the set, there were three different carpets (tapis), one of which was referred to as a table carpet (tapis de table) [151]. Although no table was provided with the initial delivery, the 1708 inventory mentions a fir wood table [152] with no inventory number listed directly after two of the aforementioned rugs, indicating that these other rugs were also likely table rugs, as was the first.

The first proper tablecloth was “made of the two brocades, garnished with fringes and gold and silver braids, lined with green taffeta” [153].

The second rug was made of green leather, with green taffeta lining and gold fringes.

The third rug, made of green taffeta with gold and silver fringes, is referred to in 1708 as the slipcover for the first.

6.7 The Portieres

The description of the four portieres is consistent between the 1689 Garde-Meuble entry and the 1708 description, comprising a total of five pieces of brocade sewn together: three of shepherd brocade and two of the green brocade, with campane ornaments at the bottom of two and fringes for the other two.

[125] AN O1/3453

[126] “The King’s bed is covered in red velvet in winter,” can be read in Félibien des Avaux, Description sommaire de Versailles ancienne et nouvelle, 1703 edition, p. 60. Despite the date of the edition, the rooms are described in their pre-1701 layout.

[127] AN O1/3445 f⁰ 2-4

[128] Guiffrey, Inventaire général du mobilier de la couronne sous Louis XIV, 1886 edition, vol. 2, p. 318

[129] Ibid

[130] AN O1/3445

[131] AN O1/3306 f⁰ 123 r⁰

[132] AN O1/3445

[133] AN O1/3306 f⁰ 122 r⁰

[134] AN O1/3445 f⁰ 2

#sims4cc #sims 4 custom content #sims4rococo #sims4 #ts4cc #ts4 historical #versailles #history #palace of versailles #historical research

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tofics · 3 days ago

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🥲 With the way my period went last week, this fic was on my brain constantly. But my god, Bug, I needed time to digest this masterpiece. (I've also saved various of your other works in my drafts to comment on later. I apologize for the reblog spam that is about to happen.)

Kay, now. Let's dive in, shall we? 🥰

Joel wakes up early the next morning and greets you with a kiss pressed to the side of your head. “Fuck off,” you mumble, your voice is still thick with sleep but he knows you mean it so he lets you sleep in a bit while he cleans the bathroom for you. He works as quietly as he can, scrubbing it and mopping it from top to bottom. He empties the trash can and the laundry hamper, he makes sure there’s a fresh bar of soap and a new washrag for you. Joel’s just finishing up and wiping dust from the mirror when you find him in the bathroom. “Mornin’, sunshine,” he says as he kisses the top of your head. “How do you feel?”

What a sweet, sweet, kind man. If I woke up to a freshly cleaned bathroom while on my period, I'd probably cry.

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”

🥲 Ma'am. I get it. But. The sweet man.

If looks could fuckin’ kill, Joel thinks. You’re glaring at him. He takes that as his cue to leave. You shrink away from him as he gently brushes your arm when he walks past, then shut the door loudly behind him. Ouch. Joel knows not to take it personally, though. You’re crampy, but you’re also probably hungry. He’ll make you breakfast, something with protein because he knows you need it.

Sorry, did you say saint??? Saint Joel???

“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.” “I said yes,” you snap. Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you.

😫 The disrespect. The bitten cheek. (Loved that bit. His annoyance is growing, but he's still keeping his cool. Again, did someone say saint??)

“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually.

S' OKAY, SWEET BABY. C'MERE. MAMA'S GOT YOU.

“Your glasses broke.” “Yeah. I see that.” “I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively. “Right.” “But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”

Breaking the silence, Joel finally clears his throat and continues his thought, “I’m gonna give you two options,” Joel says. “You can walk the fuck away from me, or you can get on your knees. Whichever you choose, you do so silently. Nod if you understand.”

“You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says.

S' okay 🥲 I was a bitch 🥲 I deserve it 🥲 Do with me as you please 🥲🥲🥲

He draws out of your mouth entirely only to force his way back in, making you gag and sputter. You attempt to pull away but Joel keeps his hand firm on your head and holds you right where he wants you. “Nuh-uh. I don’t know where you think you’re goin’, hon.”

“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”

🫡 Sir yes, sir.

“Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.”

I have really bad news for you, then. Ahem.

“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”

Ohhh, he's done done. I just *loved* this bit. The frustration, how fed up he is with the reader. Suddenly you're concerned about causing a little bit of work? Oh, hohoho, no no no. Too fucking late.

Joel had assumed sexual frustration had been playing a role in your attitude today. Cramps, headaches, all sorts of things going on with you and a needy, aching pussy to boot. He does feel sorry for you, but he feels sorry for himself too. It’s why he got his first, but now it’s time for you to get yours. An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary.

😩 Ma'am. Please. I can only take so much. The hotness in just this ONE paragraph. PLEASE. 😩 "An orgasm should set you straight, or two or three. Whatever he feels is necessary." 🥲 I am a puddle on the floor.

Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name.

🫠🙃🫠🙃

“Quiet,” he commands. He begins teasing your slit with his cock once more before he speaks, “So this is what we’re gonna do: you’re gonna take what I give you, however much or little it is. You’re not gonna cry or complain ‘cause you’ve done enough of that today. Right?” Joel pauses, “Nod your head.”

“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”

*inhales* - *screams*

He fucks you without discipline, no tenderness at all to the action with those sloppy thrusts, but you’re more lost in him than he is in you - he’s focused on your face, watching you make an ‘O’ with your mouth, and he’s focused on your bouncing body, your twitching thighs spread wide. Your moans, your whimpers and your whines, babbling nothing but nonsense. Joel’s brow is furrowed as he breathes heavily through his teeth, his soft body jerking above you as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over�� “It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.”

😶 I have died and am now reading this from the depth of hell. Fuuuuck me!

“Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.”

The fucking "I know"s kill me. Like, I didn't know two simple words like that could do the things to me that they're doing. But here we are. Is that a kink? Is there an "I know" kink? I think I have it.

“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”

You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?”

😭😭😭 SAY IT WITH ME: JOEL MILLER IS A FUCKING SAINT. A SAINT THAT FUCKS, BUT A SAINT NONETHELESS.

Christ on a cracker, this was delicious from start to finish. I think you have had a lasting impact on how I see (and am trying to write) smut. 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Thank you indeed. 🙌 A masterpiece!!!!

Seeing Red

“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude. (6k)

Tags - 18+ smut, brat taming, blow jobs, face fucking, rough period sex, fingering, mating press, overstimulation and multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare in the form of a shared bubble bath, all things periods and period symptoms so headaches, breast pain, cramps, irritability that reader takes out on Joel. You will feel so bad for being such a cunt to this man but he gets to fill two of your holes with his cum so it all kind of evens out. takes place in jackson Fic help - @beefrobeefcal and @joelsdagger for all of their love and support and eyeballs, @noxturnalpascal and @endlessthxxghts thank you both for being my compass and giving me direction and helping to make this fic perfect. I love you <3 A/N - if you're on your period, i'm sending you a hug <3 if you're not i'm hugging you too

I was reminded of my friend @covetyou's fic "Sleepless" which is a lovely piece of classic literature, just like the rest of her works, and I'd like to credit her for inspo. Thank you Lo 🤎🩷💚

You should have guessed there’d be a bloodstain in your underwear, but despite the headaches, your sore breasts, and your cramping abdomen, you’re surprised when you’re met with rusty red in your panties. Fucking great, you whisper, dripping with sarcasm, this is not what you needed today. You had so many things you wanted to get done and now you were going to be spending the whole day miserable and in pain.

“Joel,” you loudly call out. You wait a beat, nothing. “JOEL,” you yell louder.

You hear the faint sound of his recliner, the popping of his knees and the creaking of the stairs as he walks up them. His two feet are visible through the space between the floor and the bathroom door and then he knocks, “Whatcha need, darlin’?”

“New underwear,” you answer. “And a pad. Also in the underwear drawer.”

Joel walks away and returns with what you’ve asked for and slides both items under the door. You change your panties and secure the pad made of old rags and t-shirts with the clothespin attached to it. “You got it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Guessin’ you just started your cycle, then.”

“Mhm.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Nope,” you answer. “I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”

“Alright. I’ll join you, then.”

You wash your hands and rinse the bloodstain out of your panties with annoyance in the sink, wringing them out before tossing them in the dirty laundry hamper in the bathroom. When you unlock the door and leave the bathroom, Joel’s already asleep in your shared bed. He sleeps curled on his side and yet he still fucking snores - between that and the pain you’re in, you know it won’t be a restful night of sleep. You look at Joel, sleeping peacefully like a baby, and yet you wanna beat the living fucking crap out of him. You curl your body around his, stealing his body heat to soothe your cramps.

“Shitty.” You grab at the mirror and Joel’s skin crawls as you touch the glass with your thumb, the smudges left behind from your fingertips clear as day on the freshly cleaned glass. He’ll just touch it up later. You pull out your toothbrush and frown, your nose scrunched in disgust. “It smells like bleach in here,” you complain.

“Well, yeah,” Joel chuckles. “I just cleaned it for ya. ‘Course it smells like bleach.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you mumble. “The bleach you used makes my head hurt worse.”

“Oh,” Joel scratches the back of his head and frowns. “M’sorry, then. Well, we can let it air out for a while, we’ll leave the fan on. Shouldn’t smell for more than a day or so.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

He cleans the kitchen first. He washes the dirty dishes you must’ve forgotten about last night and wipes crumbs from the table. As you come downstairs dressed in sweats and a shirt you stole from Joel, he’s finishing up making your breakfast. “Sit down, I made your favorite.”

You sit down at the table with your head in your hands. Joel puts a plate with two slices of perfectly golden brown toast and two over-easy eggs in front of you, then a fork and a knife on either side. He fills a glass with water for you as well. He walks away to clean up the stove, then turns around to check on you. Your face is contorted in disgust and you’re not eating. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t want this,” you grouse.

“But s’your favorite. You love your eggs over easy,” Joel says. “And the toast, that’s fresh bread and butter. Eat up.”

“Yeah, but I wanted scrambled.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded. You usually hate scrambled eggs, and he knows this. But you’re not smirking or holding back laughter like you’re fucking with him. So maybe your tastes have changed, who knows. “Okay. Would you like me to make you scrambled eggs instead, then?”

“Yes,” you mumble in a small voice.

“I didn’t hear ya, sweetheart. Speak up, please.”

“I said yes,” you snap.

Your clipped tone cuts like a knife. Joel bites his inner cheek as he takes your plate from you. He quickly scarfs down the perfectly cooked eggs and toast as he makes you a new plate of breakfast, this time with scrambled eggs. He places it in front of you with a little less care than before and waits for you to take a bite. “Better?”

“Just okay.”

‘Just okay’. Of course you think it’s ‘just okay’, they’re scrambled fucking eggs - which you don’t like. You’re just being -

Joel needs to cool off. Hopefully once you’ve eaten you’re a little less irritable. “I’m gonna head out an’ do some errands. Be back shortly,” He’s met with no answer from you, which he expected.

He comes back an hour or so later with a few things from the market he’s been needing along with a couple of VHS tapes that he rented from the library. “So,” Joel says, “I picked out some movies for ya.” He lays four tapes down on the coffee table in front of the couch where you lay. “When Harry Met Sally, that’s a good one,” he begins, “Next is How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, then Blade Runner, and I picked out My Cousin Vinny,” Joel says. He thinks you’re gonna pick out Blade Runner because it stars Harrison Ford, who he knows you have a thing for. “My Cousin Vinny is pretty good, I don’t think we’ve seen that one yet f’ya wanna give that a try.”

“Mmm, no.”

Shot down. “Okay. How ‘bout Blade Runner, then. S’got Indiana Jones in -”

“No. I don’t care,” you interrupt, which hurts Joel’s feelings a little. A lot, actually. “I wanna watch this one,” you point to How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days. “He’s cute.”

Of course you picked the Matthew McConaughey movie. God, Joel fucking hated him. He always seemed so skeezy, if there’s anyone who should’ve bit it on Outbreak Day, it should’ve been Matthew McConaughey. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do you think he’s dreamy too?”

“Fuck off, Joel.”

So teasing’s off the table too, he’ll add that to the list of things that have pissed you off today. Joel turns on the TV and puts the tape in the VHS player before he sits back down next to you. At first you rest on his shoulder, then you spread out and lay your head on his lap. It’s not long before you fall asleep on Joel, leaving him to watch this dumb fucking movie all by himself because god forbid he move you and disrupt your nap. He knows better than to do that.

“So fuckin’ stupid,” Joel whispers to himself as the movie plays, though he did find himself enjoying the part where the Kate Hudson sings “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He always did like that song.

“Mmmm,” you groan, shifting onto your back. Joel’s hand is stroking your hair as you look up at him, but you push it away. “You’re too close to me,” you grumble.

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“You’re crowding me. I feel smothered.”

Joel scoffs. “Oh, you feel smothered? You’re the one who laid on me.” Once again, your glare is all that you need to say. “Alright then, I’ll move.” Joel concedes. He lifts your head gently and scoots down to the opposite end of the couch. And then he hears you huff. “What?”

“Well, now I don’t have a pillow.”

Joel sighs as he gets up to grab a throw pillow from the opposite couch.

“The other one.”

You’re referring to the other throw pillow that’s absolutely indistinguishable from the one currently in Joel’s hand, but he gets it for you anyway. “Lift your head,” he says softly, putting the pillow under you. He sits back down in the spot you made him move to as you both watch the movie play, but your soft groans interrupt. You’re no doubt in pain from all the cramps right now. “I’ve got somethin’ like a heating pad,” Joel says, looking at you. “S’a big sock filled with rice, I heat it up and use it for neck and back pain. Would that help with them cramps?” You nod without making any effort to meet Joel’s eyes, which he finds a little rude. But still, you’re hurting. He’ll give you grace.

So, once again, Joel gets up for you. He goes upstairs to get his rice sock from his nightstand, then comes back downstairs and heats it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. He pokes the sock to make sure it’s plenty warm for you and then gives it to you to take. “Here,” he says, “Hold it on your tummy.”

“JESUS,” you yell at him.

“What?”

“It’s too fucking hot, Joel, why would you make it so hot?”

“Just give it a second, sweetheart, you’ll get used to it.”

“No. It was burning me.”

“Okay, then let me have it and we’ll let it cool off a minute. Christ almighty.” Joel takes the sock back from you, and he knows his hands are pretty calloused but…it doesn’t feel that hot. When a few minutes have passed, he gives it back to you. “This should be better.”

You lay the big, warm stuffed sock across your stomach and frown. “It’s not warm enough.”

“You have gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, giving Joel back his sock like you just assume he’ll heat it up again for you.

“Just a couple minutes ago you screamed bloody murder about it burnin’ you. And now it’s not hot enough?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” When Joel doesn’t jump immediately to reheat the sock for you, you look at him impatiently. “Joel.”

“You can ask, you know.”

But Joel gets the hint and gets up for you a third time to reheat the sock he’s letting you borrow. You don’t say please, and when he returns with the sock reheated, there’s no thank you either. What does he get from you? “It’s too hot.”

“Then tell me how I should rectify that for you, because last time I let it cool off and it wasn’t warm enough for ya after.”

“I don’t know,” you snap. “You’re just really upsetting me right now. Everything hurts and your voice is grating.”

“I’m upsetting you?” Joel repeats your words back to you. “And my voice is grating.”

“Yes.”

He’s about at his wits end. “You know, you–” Joel decides not to finish that sentence. Instead, he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out on the count of five. “Two, three, four…You need to drink some water. S’your first issue, you’re probably dehydrated. Did you drink any water?”

“It’s not your business.”

Jesus fucking Christ. “Okay, well I’m makin’ it my business.” Joel gets up for the fourth goddamn time and slams the cup cabinet before filling a glass with water from the sink. He marches back to the couch, “Sit up,” he says. “Drink.”

“I don’t want to,” you whine.

“It’ll fix your headache. Drink.”

“It won’t actually, that’s a myth.”

“Right, what do I know when you’ve got an answer for fuckin’ everything. Drink.”

You sit up, scowling at Joel as you take a sip.

“All of it.”

You drink the rest of it, glaring at him the whole time. He’s so full of shit, as if any of what you’re going through could be fixed by drinking a glass of water. Water won’t fix your cramps, won’t fix your aching and sore back. When you’re done, you slam the glass on the end table next to you and in doing so, break Joel’s reading glasses. Oops. Didn’t see those. The lenses aren’t shattered, but one of the arms is all bent now. When you look at Joel, he’s biting his bottom lip and breathing deeply. “Your glasses broke.”

“Yeah. I see that.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you tell him defensively.

“Right.”

“But you really shouldn’t leave your glasses there, Joel.”

“Yeah, right. Shouldn’t leave my glasses on the end table,” Joel says. “I should leave them where, exactly? Maybe the floor?”

“Somewhere else.”

“Right. Somewhere else.”

He’s hoping that by repeating your words back to you, you start to hear how absolutely ridiculous you sound. But you don’t seem to. Joel turns and walks away before he fucking throttles you.

“Can you put on the next movie? I wanna watch My Cousin Vinny.”

Now, now you want to watch that movie. And Joel’s gonna miss out, because he can’t stand to be around you for one minute longer. “Are your legs broken?”

“Yes.”

Walked into that one. “You’re fuckin’ impossible. Fine. I’ll put it on, then I’m goin’ away for a bit.”

“Good.”

Oh, he could fucking kill you. This whole day he’s heard nothing but complaints from your mouth, no pleases or thank you’s at all. Everything he’s done today has been for you, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck.

Joel puts on the movie, grabs his bent glasses from the end table and heads out to the garage without saying a single word to you. You wonder what bug crawled up his ass.

My Cousin Vinny plays just fine until Vinny shows up in his ridiculous suit to the courthouse. The tape begins to skip a whole bunch, the movie barely making sense, and you have no idea how to fix it - not that it’s your job to know, anyway. So you call out the name of the man whose job it is.

“Joel.”

No answer.

“JOELLLL,” you yell.

Same deal. You sigh as you sit up and get off of the couch, walking to the garage door. There’s finally a break in your cramps and you’re feeling halfway-human for the first time since yesterday. Entering the garage, you find Joel sitting at his workbench, he’s working on bending the frame of his glasses back into shape. “Joel.”

He doesn’t turn around to look at you and in fact, he heard you calling for him. He had just ignored you. “Looks like your legs are workin’ now,” Joel replies, without looking at you. “S’a miracle. Means you can follow me around now, terrific.”

You choose to ignore his sarcasm. “Whatever. You need to do something for me. The VCR is messing up and you have to fix it.”

“Hm,” he hums.

“What’s hm?”

“I’ve fixed lotsa things for you today,” he says quietly. “I need some time to fix my glasses that you broke. S’a difficult task on account of the fact I need my glasses to see.”

“You can do me one favor, Joel. It won’t kill you.”

Joel stops and gently places his broken glasses on his work bench. He turns to his right and glares daggers at you. “One favor,” he scoffs. “Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach. You wanna try that again?”

“Try what again?”

You’re fucking with him. You have to be fucking with him. Why are you fucking with him? You’re not antagonistic like this, not usually, so he concludes that you must be looking for a fight. At this point, Joel is too.

“I’ve done you countless favors today, sweetheart,” Joel gripes.

“Yeah, but-” you begin.

Joel’s large, warm hand suddenly covers the lower half of your face, silencing your argument. “If the next words outta this mouth aren’t thank you, then I don’t wanna hear ‘em. In fact…”

He bites his inner cheek, nodding his head as he thinks. The way he stares at you, his dark eyes piercing through you - you feel the chill deep in your bones. A wave of clarity hits you as you recall some of the details of the day, the way Joel was there at every turn and while you were busy being cranky and achey, he was trying to wait on you hand and foot. Shit. You’ve been a Grade-A bitch to him all day, a total fucking cunt.

It’s like you’re watching a scene from a movie. You hear Joel’s words, but you almost don’t believe they’re real and so they don’t quite register. He pulls his hand away from your face slowly. Your mouth falls open a bit but you don’t say or do anything.

“Nod. If. You. Understand.” You nod quickly. Joel awaits your decision as you look at the garage door and contemplate your clean way out from this situation, “So what’ll it be?” he asks. Despite it all, that uneasy feeling in your gut, you drop to your knees anyway, eyes still lingering on the door before you look up at Joel. You trust him to take care of you and you think you might owe him this obedience after your behavior today. “You’ve earned yourself brownie points choosin’ the latter of the two options, but this still ain’t gonna be fun for you,” he says. It should scare you - and it does - but you’re still thrilled by it, by the way he sighs and his knees crack as he gets off of his barstool, by the cold look in his eyes as he reaches under his thick belly to unbuckle his belt. Standing above you, he pulls out his half-hard cock and pumps it, feeling it grow to full length in his hand. He’s thick, veiny, and generously sized, a pearly white bead of precum sits atop his slit. His cock is just an inch or two away from your mouth as he holds it between his fingers, his thumb on top and middle and forefingers on the underside. With his other hand, he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, the tip of his cock pressing against your lips. “Open.”

You part your lips open and with that, Joel pushes himself into your mouth inch by inch. You smell him first, that musky and heady sort of scent. Next, you taste the saltiness of his skin and his precome on your tongue and for a moment it’s pleasurable, with his cock halfway in your mouth. You wrap your hand around the end of his shaft like you know what he wants but you don’t know, not really - Joel holds your hand in his own and squeezes it so that your knuckles grind against each other a little bit. He pushes himself further and you can’t lick him or savor this like you wanted to, you just feel his cock intruding, sliding into your mouth. Joel’s testing you, making sure that you can handle all of him and if you can’t, you know he’ll make you.

There’s no gentleness to it, he fucks your mouth heatedly so that you’re drooling and choking on him, your eyes springing with tears as that pressure builds behind them. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “In and out. You ain’t done jus’ ‘cause you’re cryin’.” Your lips are sore with the repeated action, your jaw is aching. He rolls his hips, his cock is deep down your throat as he relishes in your warm, wet mouth and the way it makes him feel.

“Mmm,” you moan, you’re not sure if the noise is indicative of your pleasure or discomfort.

“Quiet,” he growls. “Heard fuckin’ enough outta you today. You keep quiet.”

Your nose is buried in that thatch of coarse curls as he rocks his hips over and over, his soft and pillowy tummy bouncing against your forehead. You squirm and whine as his tip teases the back of your throat and your mouth feels so full, uncomfortably so. Joel picks up on that. “Let it be a lesson to ya, then, if it hurts. That mouth ‘a yours has done nothin’ but bitch and moan at me today. S’a punishment, ain’t ‘sposed to feel good.”

He’s grunting and groaning, eyes screwed shut as he uses you, pumping in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches with the brutality of the way he fucks your mouth, and just as you think you can’t take anymore, you feel Joel’s cock begin to twitch and pulse. He comes in your mouth without a warning, painting your tongue with his hot spend. It’s salty and bitter and warm on your tongue. Once you’ve swallowed, Joel reaches down and yanks you up by your bicep. He thought fucking your mouth and coming down your throat would make him feel better but honestly, it doesn’t. As he looks at your face, all puffy with tears and swollen lips, he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of his anger. Not yet, at least. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he drags you with him towards the garage door. He marches you though the house and up the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

“Bedroom,” Joel growls, answering your question like it’s obvious. You suppose it should be, but you figured he was done with you. But he’s not. The regret begins to set in when you realize the retribution you’re about to be met with for the way you’ve treated Joel today. You’d be lying if you said that while wallowing in your pain you didn’t notice how your curt tone got under his skin, hurt his feelings and frustrated him immensely. The dread you feel can’t save you, it’s all too late now.

“Because if I don’t fuck you,” he says, “Then I’m gonna strangle you. So which would you like?”

“Fuck me,” you whisper.

“Exactly.”

Joel pushes you into the bedroom and locks the door behind himself. “Lie down on your back,” he says.

You protest, “But the sheets, Joel. The blood–”

“I will wash the fucking sheets. We can add it to the list of all the things I’ve done for ya today, hm?”

When you don’t jump at his request, Joel takes initiative. He pulls off your - his - shirt from your body and then bends you over the end of the neatly made bed, the old and worn comforter feels rough on the skin of your cheek. Joel pulls down your sweatpants and panties in one motion and then flips you over onto your back, your legs hanging off the end of the bed. You feel embarrassed when you catch a glimpse of your bloodied pad and underwear, moreso when you feel yourself making a mess on his bedding and between your legs.

“You didn’t make yourself come today, did you?”

“Uhh–” you stutter. “I - I…”

“No point in gettin’ bashful now, darlin’. Just gimme an answer.”

“No,” you tell him. It’s been a while.

“Figures.”

Joel undresses himself before pushing your thighs apart and hitching your legs around his waist. Slowly, he slides his thumb through your folds and then circles your clit. He knows you’re vulnerable like this - bleeding pussy on display for him as you make a mess of his sheets. But he’s patient, and he massages your clit calmly until you finally let a moan, a little mmm slip. He smirks at that.

He pushes his middle two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. He then curls his fingers, searching for that sweet spot on a woman he loves so much. “Fuck,” you cry out, legs instinctually closing shut around him, and he knows he’s found it.

“Don’t fight it,” he says, opening you back up. He curls his fingers and circles your clit in tandem, making all sorts of lewd noises with your cunt. He admires your body all laid out for him like this, your breasts and your pebbled nipples, soft tummy rising and falling with your breathy oh’s and ahh’s, thick curls framing your pretty pussy like a picture just for him. Joel takes his free hand and uses it to press down on your lower stomach, intensifying the feeling of it all. You come hard, gushing on his fingers as you whimper his name.

Joel pulls his fingers from your core and wipes them haphazardly on his own torso. “Joel,” you gasp when you feel the thick head of his cock at your entrance.

“I am sorry,” he begins, notching his tip inside you and popping it out. He slides the blunt head through your folds and over your clit, then taps the sensitive part of you with himself. “That you’re in pain. It isn’t fair and I know that. But you’ve done nothing but take your hurt out on me.” He presses himself inside you again, “I’ve got a half a mind to take my own hurt out on you, y’know.” His voice is dark and angered, but he speaks calmly in a way that contrasts the darkness but maintains his authority all the same. “And I think I’m gonna.”

“Joel, I– ”

You obey his rule and nod, yes.

He drags his cock up and down your cunt again, the soft skin of your labia rubbing so nicely against his thickness. He notches himself inside you over and over again, pushing in a little bit deeper each time and pulling back out. You whine, rolling your hips in search of more. “I know, I know, sweetheart,” he coos at you to quiet you down. “You’re all out of sorts today. M’gonna fix it. I always fix it, don’t I?”

Yes. You nod again. Quiet.

“S’right,” he says. “Good girl.”

With that, Joel pushes his leaking cock into you entirely, one gradual slide that has you sucking in a breath that comes out in a strained sort of whimper. His hard, warm shaft parting your insides, filling you whole. Joel hears it in the way that you sigh, that this, this is what you needed. He rocks his hips once, twice. Experiments with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out of you before he draws out of your pussy entirely only to thrust himself right back in, deeper and harder than before.

With the fullness of Joel inside of you, everything seems to melt away - all that anger, misplaced or not. Joel’s rhythmic thrusting soothes you, sort of. The soreness of your body, the aching cramps in your abdomen are all gone as you focus on the in and out, the in and out. He builds a comfortable pace, but one that borders on too much too soon. His hands on your waist, pulling you towards him as he pushes into you in equal measure.

“It’s all ya needed, isn’t it? The whole goddamn time,” he pants. “Didn’t need to go an’ bitch me out all day if you needed lovin’ like this. Woulda been nice f’ya just said so.” Joel reaches for your breasts, harshly squeezing the tender, sore flesh. You wince in pain and he loosens his grip, focusing on your nipples instead. He twists and flicks the sensitive buds and your moans become louder, more high pitched. Joel fucking loves it when that happens, you never realized.

“Oh, Joel,” you moan, “Yeah, fuck.”

With one hand still teasing your nipples, he brings the other to your pussy. A few strokes of his thumb on your clit is all it takes to send you over the edge a second time, wanton moans and choked sobs spilling from your lips as he fucks you through it.

And fucks you, and fucks you.

And keeps fucking you.

It doesn’t end, he doesn’t slow himself and you never feel that come down, that descent from pleasure. It keeps going, like pressure with nowhere to go and you feel like you might break. “I can’t, I need you to stop, stop, Joel.”

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, thrusting still. “You can take it, be a good girl. Gonna fuck you good and deep like you need. You brought this on yourself, anyway. Two more.”

This whole time, he doesn’t stop. It’s so much at once and when you thought it was going to end, it doesn’t. Tears of overstimulation spring in your eyes and flow freely down your cheeks. Joel lets you cry because he knows you need it, he knows the release is good for you. You poor thing, how much you must be feeling right now, both physically and mentally. “It’s too much, Joel, I can’t,” you plead.

“Always the tears with you, huh?” he taunts. “Always somethin’. Oh, I know. I know.”

It’s the way you look at Joel that causes him to cave, eyes all wide and tear-stained. You’re spent and he knows it, what with all that your body’s put you through. You’ve had a rough day and though he did too, he can’t help but feel sympathy for you at this moment. “Oh, my sweet girl. What am I gonna do with you, hm?”

“I don’t know,” you sniffle.

“Know you don’t, ‘n you don’t have to. S’my job,” he soothes. With his clean hand, he traces the side of your face and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “How about this, then - what are we gonna do next time you’re not feeling so good?”

“I’m - I’m–”

“You’re gonna tell me what you need,” he instructs, “And you’re gonna ask for it. Nicely. So that means usin’ your manners. Please, Joel. Thank you, Joel. Remember those words?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Yeah, I remember.”

“But you forgot ‘em the whole day today,” Joel says softly. “I think you gotta learn to compromise, too,” he adds. The guilt had begun to set in before, but you really start to feel the burn now. You were unkind to Joel, and he’s been nothing but sweet, doting on every one of your needs. “I think an apology’s in order for the way you treated me today.”

He’s right, and you know it. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Joel.”

“Oh, I know you are. You just needed the reminder, s’okay,” You hadn’t even noticed how his thrusting had slowed to a still until it picks up again slowly, as he presses kisses to you. Your cheeks first, then your lips. “I’ll compromise too - I’m only gonna make you come one more time, not two. Sound good? Sound fair?”

“I don’t think I can, Joel…”

“Yeah, you can, s’the last one. Take it good for me,” he encourages. “Take it good.”

That’s what he repeats as his thrusts build again, fucking you deeply. Take it good, take it good for me. He hikes you up further on the bed and joins you so that he’s no longer standing at the floor, he’s got you pressed in half instead, your knees on either side of your chest and your feet above his shoulders. This angle intensifies everything and he knows, oh he knows how much it is for you. You’re tired, sore, overstimulated. But you’ll be done soon, he’ll be done with you soon. He takes your hand and wedges it between your bodies, pressing your own fingers to your clit, “Let go for me, I wanna feel you let go for me,” he says. “Focus right here. You’re gonna come with me, keep your eyes on me…”

You don’t even have to massage your clit, the way Joel angles himself has his body doing all the work, his pubic bone adding pressure to your fingers adding pressure to your clit. It’s intense, all of it - deeply energetic, overwhelming. You can’t quite discern your orgasm as it builds, there’s no definitive start but it’s powerful, devastating almost. Washing over you in waves, you feel it in the base of your spine first. You feel it in your gut, the backs of your thighs all the way to your toes. You hardly register that he’s coming with you, filling you deep with his come. His jaw is clenched tight and he’s groaning, grunting as he milks himself in you.

He leaves you there, whimpering, twitching on the bed. You hear the faint sound of running water, you figure he’s washing himself off. You’re surprised when he returns to you, pelvis covered in your blood, and scoops you right up in his arms. He helps you to your feet and on shaky legs, guides you to the bathroom. It no longer smells like bleach but instead, lavender. He’s got a candle lit on the sink and the bathtub is filled with warm, bubbly water. “Picked out a bubble bath for you earlier when I went out. Wanna test it out with me?”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “Yes. Please.”

Joel sits in the tub first, spreads his legs and welcomes you to sit between them. He washes the blood from your poor, sensitive core and your thighs, washes it from his own body as well. When he’s done, he pulls you back into his chest and his hands find your breasts. “They’re tender, huh,” he murmurs into the side of your head.

“Super, yeah. Sore.”

“I’ll bet,” he says. He gently massages the tissue for you, his strong hands working you out in a way you can’t quite do.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Joel chuckles. “Bout fuckin’ time you thanked me,” he says. “You’re welcome.”

If you enjoyed, please reblog with thoughts, leave me a comment, or send me an ask! Your words motivate me to keep writing for you all 🩷

Least helpful cats award goes to these two 👇 if you’ve ever wondered what takes me so long to put fics out, it’s this. I try to write and I’m cockblocked by these fuzzballs.

#read list #joel miller #fic rec

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sevs-corner · 17 hours ago

Text

Tf 141: Mafia AU!

Chapter 2: Jobless? More like Job-bless

A/N: Link to prev ch + mini epilogue of the chap (where it goes to another character’s pov aside from the reader :DD) :

Preface:

After the mess of a morning, you instantly got roped into the orderly chaos of the bakery. Under a contract (a list of chores really) you are now tied to the place Nonna and Nonno calls home.

Although, you soon come to learn that it is the home of other certain individuals as well.

With a groan, you wonder how many things are left on the chore list posted on the to-do board, pinned with all sorts of menus, post-it notes, old recipes, and photos of people you don’t really care to know or recognize; although, you were curious of who that one handsome man was.

Which you kept at the back of your mind to ask Nonna during your break later.

For now, you had to focus up and sort this damn mountain of trash.

You even got scolded by the trash guy for having mixed the recyclables and non-recyclables! You pouted, mumbling that it wasn’t your fault but the old couple who ran this place— yet all he did was wave you off, saying that he’d make an exception and come by tomorrow, ‘as long as the trash is sorted.’

To be honest, you’d rather sort him to the non-recyclables pile.

Rancid- the whole lot of it was! You couldn’t believe it got stocked up until the second floor of the building… but you kinda have to wonder if they threw it from below with an underhand throw or dropped from the room you were currently in.

The latter seems more plausible.

Until you saw Nonna, spin and accurately place another bag on top- winking at your gaping form, knees bent with your elbows resting on it exhaustion.

“Is that nasty sickness gone?” She asks, arms folded on her chest as she leans by the doorway.

“I think I got another type of nasty sickness,” you raised your arms and showed the dirty yellow rubber gloves and apron covered in grime.

She laughs and nods, “well better get to finishin’! Else, you wouldn’t make it to the lunchtime rush.”

“Is that part of the list too?” You asked, stunned, you were very sure that was on there until Nonna waved you in. Pointing at the pin board by the doorway.

You slightly let yourself, making sure none of the guck got in the place you just cleaned. Bending and craning your neck upward, you gasp at how the checklist just became double its size from before, a stapler at both ends of the first one connecting to the next.

You quickly turn your head, tone accusatory- “you added onto it!”

“There’s a lot to do,” she shrugs, “didn’t quite give you the full list.”

She points to the first saying how that was Nonno’s list while the next was made by her. You pouted, finding it unfair- knowing how it wouldn’t be completed in a day, actually more than a week no less!

“How am I supposed to help you guys tomorrow if I can’t find my place today?”

She hums, tapping her chin before snapping her fingers and roughly pinching your puffed out cheeks.

“You stay upstairs with us, of course!”

“WHAT?”

You reflexively scream reacted, falling to your dramatically as your hands catch your upper body before it fell into the door way face first.

“Not a bad deal, right dearie?”

“Rightly so, dear wifey!”

You could hear the old couple tease you (with the old man coming in to see what the racket was that disturbed him from his cooking routine, only to see his wife amusing herself once more with the new kid she “adopted” (nonna’s words not his)) making you feel even more depressed, wondering what made you think it was a good idea in the first place to sign up to this deal.

You wanted info- and they needed a helper. The end.

You should have read the Terms and Conditions really. (The non existent one aka, reading between the lines and the vibe of the couple.)

Alas, you accepted your fate, resigning to it really as you stood up, looking at the list before retuning to the trash area, where the old couples kisses and giggles were still echoing by the back door way. A reality slapping reminder of what you needed to get back to immediately.

Kneeling by the pile you left, you spot a cat- a strangely pristine white one with bright blue eyes. It looked a bit fancy to be wandering around this part so you checked its neck for a collar yet there was none.

Humming to yourself, you called to it softly as you removed your stickily sweat gloves.

The cat, as if heeding your call, comes closers to your whispers of encouragement and ultimately sits before you meowing and nudging its head towards you.

“Aww!” You gleamed, immediately petting it with your finger tips, but melt even more as it long and fluffy tail wrapped around your fingers- as if urging you to continue your pampering.

“You’re such a cutie! Aren’t ‘cha?” You continue cooing at it, and with how immediately comfortably attached the cat was with you- you decided to try and carry it by opening your arms.

The cat crawls pause, sensing your pets has stopped and stares at you.

You stare it back.

Like a lightbulb popping up, the cat meows and stand up, crawling closer and…

“Now who the hell is there?”

You and the cat screech, both jumping in the air.

Although the difference between the two of you was one landed on their ass while the other ran away.

Unceremoniously once again.

You heaved, looking at the man intimidatingly making himself known by the entrance of the alleyway to the back door of the bakery, smoke in hand while the other was on his side- a holster you assume as you see something gleam below the morning light.

You noticed that he wore a suit quite similar to the men you met last night. Although this time, it was dark navy blue in color with a heavy coat on top, and brown shoes that seemed quite shinier that the jewels he wore on his fingers.

As you picked apart his outfit, he came in closer, noticing how you shivered at his presence (you weren’t it was just cold and he surprised the beejeebus out of you.)

So he stopped a bit aways away, five feet apart to be safe of the unexpected accusation that might come along by strangers at the street side.

“Got any business with this place?”

“Huh?” You look up at him, finally looking at his- less irritated, more confused than anything- face. His slicked back blonde hair made his eye brow raise and forehead creases even more noticeable as he tossed to you his questionable stare.

“Oh, uh yeah- I do.”

He nods, “right.”

You deadpanned, with you not believing him and him not believing your words— you decided to start the conversation again by standing and introducing yourself.

“I’m Graves,” he does the same, and stuff his hands in his pocket, offering a nod and grin.

“Like…” you paused, “the tombstone?”

He deadpans this time and sighs, shaking his head.

“You... you can put it that way,” he waves his hand, “but what’s your business here anyway, shortstack?”

You grumble to yourself about his nickname but placed in the back burner for later, where you would also burn him- but that’s a plan in the making.

“Why do you need to know?” You reply, a bit apprehensive of his prying. It’s not like he lived here- as far as you know.

…Maybe he was going to hustle you for messing with his favorite smoking spot?!

“Oh!” You turn to him, making his mouth clamp shut. “This might have been your smoking spot right? My bad.”

You bowed your head in a slight bow when apologizing, “its just that the owners of the bakery told me to clean up here,” you pointed to the pile of dump on the trashcan, “but as you can see, its taking me some time.”

He laughs, finally connecting the dots in his head and figuring who you were.

“Those old hags giving you trouble?”

Suddenly his arm was on your shoulder, slinging you forward and into his space which made you slightly flinch away, half uncomfortable and the other half making you hope wouldn't dirty his- clearly expensive- suit then blame it on you and pay for cleaning or worse... replace it.

Yeah, you didn't want to think about that.

So, you shook your but deeply sigh anyways, "it's all good."

You didn't know why but you wanted to reassure the stranger. In hope of getting him off your case? Maybe so- but it was more likely that his suit quite stank from the smell of cigs and alcohol, but with the mix of his- high end- cologne- it was just a smell that spelled disaster for your senses.

"Really now?" Unconvinced he was again but at this point, why did you continue to care?

So you huffed, sliding out of his grasp- surprisingly easily- and went by the back door, arms crossed just like a certain someone had done moments ago.

"Really," you rolled your eyes, "but its up to you to believe it or not."

Graves' eyes sparkled, smirk widening as he sniffs out a challenge- a challenge to his authority.

He scoffs out an amused chuckle as he sees you stomp back into the bakery in a huff, clearly cutting short your interaction with him and the conversation.

A conversation he quite wanted to continue.

So he follows, interest now piqued, wondering if you were a new face in town or simply a fleeting face he'd forget in a momentary notice. Whatever it was, he wanted to know.

His gut feeling says he has to--

it hasn't proven him wrong after all.

Entering the warm bakery as compared the cold breeze the outside gave made you shiver, hoping your body would better quickly adapt to the temperature change.

Quickly hanging your apron, you called out to the two that you came back for the lunch rush, all the while washing your hands in the kitchen's sink.

Whistling a tune, you think back to the words of Nonna earlier, having said that you would have to stay here until you get the end of your bargain. At least, that was what you think she meant until the list is done and dealt with.

Your actions slow as you think of an alternative-- you could text your co-worker and ask them right now, but that was embarrassing to think of doing. They gave simple instructions of how to get at the place, yet you somehow got lost and stumbled upon so much more people than you think you would have before coming into this reputable city.

To be honest to yourself for a moment, you didn't want to admit it to them not because of embarrassment- but because of how you felt ashamed of yourself. You didn't like having yourself in this position, squandering away for any penny you can make, scraping by with each paycheck, and most of all, for being so stupid that you can't even repay the kindness your co-worker has shown you. It felt like a waste, that you weren't using it right now-- staying at their place and slowly making it up to them by paying back every single money they spent to pay for rent, utilities, and food that they provided.

So you resolved yourself, slapping your face with the washed hands to wake yourself up from the quite long (short) introspection of your situation right now.

You did owe Nonna and Nonno for staying here, but for the boss of Soup? No... Suds-? Anyways, you had to repay that guy's boss as well for the lodging last night.

Maybe you can rearrange the agreement with the couple to provide- at least- the minimum of minimum wages so you wouldn't be just free labor for their amusement.

Despite thinking that they really might need some help, looking around at the state of place.

"Seems like you washed your hands extra clean."

You hear a sip behind you, jumping once more as you naturally glared at the person that spooked you.

"Could you like," you waved your hands around trying to find words, "not spook me every time you appear-- are you the boogeyman incarnate or something?"

This man in front of you, as formal as he looks, just breaks into cackles.

Downright fits of laughter that continuously bubble out of him.

Wheezing and all that-- but you wait, staring at him strangely and for him to catch his breath.

After a couple minutes pass and he doesn't, even leaning against the doorway as he covers his face (which was bright red) in attempt to limit his giggles, you sigh and untangle your arms. Pushing yourself off the sink and moving him aside so you could start the lunch shift.

"Wa-wait!"

You hear the man wheeze out and in frustration, you grumble out a- "what?"

"I- I was only ask-asking about you earlier bec-because--"

"because he's la famiglia, cara!"

You turn to the sudden pop of Nonna at your side, looking at her in question, "what do you mean-?"

"He-!" She quickly slaps his back to cough out his remaining laughter, "is one of my sons!"

"Son?" you ask, head tilting as you think back to that photo on the board. You turn to the board, checking if you were right-- and it was as if fate checked mate you as your eyes locked onto the boy at the far right side of the one completed family picture (you assumed) which had a lot of members.

'Blonde and blue eyes...'

The man, who has just been a disaster a couple of minutes ago, had now regain his composure and grinned at you as if it didn't look like he was losing his balls earlier.

"That's why I was concerned shortcake," he wraps his arm around Nonna (who just snuggles into him), "'cause I'm her son."

'Oof. '

Well, now that you know that they were all their (adopted) children in that picture, you find yourself more at ease in Graves' presence as Nonna chats to him about what happened ever since you showed up, with him humming and commenting from time to time.

As they sat at the side, you continued to do your job, managing the register and the back of the house- sending orders in and plates out.

You did it so much that by the time another table came, you were in auto pilot, customer service mode.

"Hello and welcome! What can I get for y'all started with--"

"Well, aren't you worse for wear."

Hearing that out of place comment made you snap out of your stupor, finally taking in the faces before you.

"The guys from last night!" You gasp, "and Suds' boss!" you glanced at the man with a beard and you could see him smile and nod, reaffirming who he was.

"Yes, that's me-"

Yet he gets cut by the rounding laughter of the table, making you confused, muttered a small, "what?"

"Suds--" The kind man from the other night manages out before falling into another fit of wheezing.

"His name ain't Suds, darlin'," the guy with a rough, scratchy voice talks and you now see that he was wearing a skull mask on the upper part of his face, then a black clothe covering his lower half.

"It's not?"

The man in question groans out, "its Soap you nest-head!"

You clicked your tongue, "Now I'm less inclined to call you that, Suds."

Now even Price chuckles at this exchange, making 'Grickky' looking at him in shock.

"Did you sleep well?"

Price redirects the conversation and you turn to him with a smile and nod, "thank to you sir."

You politely bowed your head and told him how you were gonna pay him back for it, but he just shakes his head- telling that you "shouldn't worry your pretty lil' head over a lil' cash."

"But its not a little amount!" You protested and they looked at you in shock. Thinking that you would just accept it and be done with it.

"I know better than anyone how both kindness and money is precious, so I'll work to pay you back sir."

The determination flaming in your eyes makes them quite stunned at the moment before Price just chuckles, "do as you wish." He says in contentment of the moment, and he was quite satisfied from how you reacted- bubbling and smiling as if you weren't laying sick mere hours ago when they last saw you.

"Cara!"

You hear Nonna call for you and you pause, asking for the four to wait a moment while you walk to see what Nonna needed until you see her approaching in excitement.

"Nonna-?"

"Oh my gosh!" She squeals into your arms, "I can't believe you're meeting all my boys today!"

"Your...boys?"

You stare at her for a moment before redirecting it to the sheepish four who sat there.

Welp... now your proclamations sounds a little awkward...

There was no way she would let her own son pay for lodging at his parent's place.

Even though you've only known Nonna for a couple hours, you were quite sure. A conclusion which made you throw your head back in embarrassment once again.

"just how many sons do you have?!"

A/N: Long chapter for the 2nd one because I got inspired! And also for the warm reception and the attention my silly lil AU for Tf 141 is getting hehe so thank yall <33 Cheers to more chapters to come !!

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