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strang3lov3 · 2 months ago

Text

Bedridden

If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 🍆💦❤️‍🔥

Joel is sick and refuses to rest, so you knock him out the best way you know how. (5.4k)

Tags - smut, lotsa sexual tension, blow jobs, pussy pronouns, teasing, fingering, unprotected piv, riding the sick old man’s cock, creampie, non-graphic descriptions of being sick. JOEL DOES THE DAD SNEEZE. coughing, fevers. That’s all. Joel is stubborn and grumpy while you take care of his old as fuck ass. Arguing with the old man, forcing the old man to bathe, forcing the old man to eat and drink, forcing a thermometer in the old man’s mouth. Joel bitching you out the whole time. Joel is kind of exactly like Dennis in IASIP when the gang gets quarantined. Fic Help - My usuals! @beefrobeefcal, your unhinged comments on the doc were the best part. and @endlessthxxghts thank you for your help <3 A/N - Heyyyyyyy. I promised this fic yesterday and then didn’t deliver. Sorry. It just needed to marinate in the doc a little longer or something. It’s been a bullshit ass few days and I’m,,,,handling it. Anyway, I’ve been sick as balls so that’s how this fic came about. Everybody wash your hands 🧼

There’s a fine point late in the year, right after summer turns to fall. You can fall asleep with the window over your bed cracked open just an inch to let the crisp, cool air blow over your face as you cocoon yourself in blankets. In the mornings you wake to that same breeze and the birds chirping, though less and less as they fly south for the upcoming winter.

Not this morning, though. This morning, you’re awoken by a chesty, hacking cough coming from outside your window. You sigh as you get out of bed and push the curtains away from the window to get a better look at what the hell is going on out there.

And it’s just your neighbor, Joel. You should have guessed it’d be him, you heard his earth shattering, deafening sneeze the other day when you waved to him as you walked by his house. Joel waved back at you with the same hand he sneezed into. Ew.

Everyone’s getting sick lately, it goes around quickly in Jackson. Always does - it starts with the kids and works its way through the community, and a good four to six weeks are filled with endless sneezing and coughing and mucus.

Joel’s coughing up his lungs as he rakes up the leaves in your yard, a job he’s seemingly assigned himself, because you sure as shit didn’t ask him to do this. He has a habit of taking on your chores and home maintenance out of his own frustration.

You pull a robe over your pajamas and slide on a pair of slippers, then leave out of the front door to greet Joel. “Good morning, Joel.”

Joel clears his throat. “S’actually noon, lazy ass. ‘Bout time ya woke up.”

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing?”

“Exactly what it looks like.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Gross. “M’workin’.”

“Yeah, I see that. But you sound sick.”

Joel ignores the accusation, “Your yard looks like shit, by the way,” he says. “Wouldn’t kill ya to rake once in a while. ‘Stead of makin’ me do it.”

“You choose to do this. I don’t make you do anything,” you argue, rolling your eyes. It’s funny, though. Joel’s turning into the caricature of the old man angrily shaking his fist at kids playing on his lawn. All crotchety and pissed off about nothing. You step closer to him and wrap your hand around the handle of the rake, pulling it towards yourself. “Besides, Mother Nature put those leaves there for a reason,” you add.

“Sure, smartass. For you to ignore and for me to clean up. Now, give it,” Joel tugs the rake back. Whatever. You let him. Joel rakes more of your leaves into the pile he’s created, then doubles over in another coughing fit. You rub your palm on his back, patting him gently. He’s sweating through his flannel. “Oh, Christ. Fuck me.”

“Joel, you look awful.”

You help him stand up, “You’re a terrible flirt, darlin’,” Joel replies dryly. But he knows you’re not wrong. He saw in the mirror how pale he looked this morning, the dark circles around his eyes.

“Oh, shut up.” You press the back of your hand against Joel’s forehead, all sweaty and warm. “You’re burning up, Joel. You’re sick.”

“I am not sick,” Joel protests through another cough. “I’m fine. How ‘bout you worry ‘bout yourself ‘stead of fussin’ over me.”

“You’re hacking up a lung in my yard. I’ll worry about you all I want, thank you.”

In response, Joel grumbles something you can’t quite make out. You roll your eyes and take the rake from him, dropping it on the grass. “My rake,” Joel murmurs, annoyed and defeated. With your work clearly cut out for you, you take his hand and lead him into your house. “Aw, hell. What’re you doin’ to me.”

“Taking care of you,” you reply.

“Didn’t sign up for this bullshit,” Joel complains. “I don’t need takin’ care of.”

Oh, he’s a peach. Most men, when sick, are total babies - pathetically crying about their headaches and stomachaches to women who deal with the same symptoms on a monthly basis. It’s charming, truly. But not Joel, though. In his stubbornness, Joel refuses to ever admit when he’s sick, like he’s got something to prove. Can never let himself be taken care of, because that’s his job - to take care of others. Always has been.

Once inside, you have Joel take off his boots, then usher him to the bathroom with a hand on his back, his flannel damp with sweat. “Sit.” You reach for Joel’s shoulders and push him down, forcing him onto the lidded toilet. You crouch down at the bathtub and plug the drain with the stopper, then turn the water on - not too hot, not too cold. “Yeah, this is good. This’ll make you feel so much better.”

“Oh, c’mon. Turn off the damn water. I’m not takin’ a bath.”

“You are, too.”

“Am not.”

“Joel,” you bite. Joel parrots your name back in the same threatening tone.

“We’re breaking that fever one way or another, Joel. So you bathe yourself, or I’ll do it.”

Joel cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, will ya, now?”

You go quiet, no retort to his comment. Heat rises to your cheeks and you focus on the bathtub filling with water to avoid Joel’s taunting gaze. After a long enough silence passes, Joel changes the subject. “I don’t have any clean clothes, y’know.”

“Then I’ll grab you some from your house,” you mumble.

“Mm,” Joel grunts. “Got an answer for everything, don’tcha?”

You glare. Joel glares too. You fold your arms across your chest and raise your eyebrows at him. You are not losing this battle.

Joel sighs in defeat. “Alright, go on an’ get, then. I’ll take the fuckin’ bath if it’ll get me fifteen minutes away from you obsessin’ over me. There. Happy?”

“Happy.”

You leave Joel in the bathroom to bathe himself, closing the door behind you. Still wearing nothing but pajamas and a robe, you change quickly into a hoodie and jeans, then leave through your front door for the second time.

Joel’s house is right next to yours, so it’s not a long walk. Mentally, you’re kicking yourself for your stupid threat to bathe Joel. The way he responded to it, ‘Oh, will ya?’ and how bashful that made you, the embarrassment written all over your face in big, black, permanent marker. Your crush on the older man is obvious, and Joel, never the gentleman, will jump at any opportunity to make you squirm. Like when he catches your eyes lingering on him for a little too long, he’ll tease you for it. “S’rude to stare, y’know,” he’ll taunt, always with that stupid fucking grin on his face. Smile lines framing his cheeks, crows feet handsomely peeking at the corners of his eyes. You really need to stop setting yourself up for these things.

Once in Joel’s house, you head upstairs for his bedroom and rifle through his dresser drawers for some comfy clothes. You pick out a pair of plaid boxers, some gray sweatpants, and a navy waffle-knit henley. You bunch up his clothes and inhale, Joel’s natural smell still lingering in the clothes, even washed.

In his kitchen, you notice some vegetables sitting out on his countertops. Carrots, potatoes, onions. You grab those too, then check the fridge for leftover chicken or turkey or something. He usually has some, and usually brings it to you after he’s had his fill. “This is for you, trouble. Cause y’don’t eat enough,” he’ll gruff. “Would you like me to heat it up for ya?” And whether you say yes or no, he always does. It seems to make him happy or fulfill him somehow, so you let him take care of you like that. If only he’d let you return the favor.

Bingo. There’s chicken in old Tupperware right on the top shelf, and yesterday’s date written in Joel’s terrible handwriting from an old, dried up Sharpie. You take that too, then go back home.

You leave Joel’s food you stole on the kitchen table and stop at your linen closet for a fresh towel. You knock on the bathroom door, “Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’.”

“I have your clothes. And a towel.”

“Good. I need those,” Joel says. “C’mon in, then.”

You open the door, averting your eyes from Joel’s naked body in the bathtub. “Relax. M’not gonna let you see somethin’ you ain’t ‘sposed to.” He’s got his hands covering his manhood, the rest of himself on display - toned biceps, veined forearms. His belly is pillowy and hairy and his legs look so long, all bare like this. His toes peeking out of the soapy bathwater. You set the towel and his clothes down on the toilet, stealing an even longer look at him when you think he doesn’t notice. “I see ya snoopin’, trouble. Wanna take a picture?”

You roll your eyes and ignore the offer, turning your attention to Joel but keeping your eyes focused on his face. His hair is slicked back, and his grays pop out against the rest of his dark hair, little ringlet curls at his neck. The asshole is criminally handsome.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I feel fine. Like I’ve felt all day,” Joel lies. His body betrays him instantly when another cough wracks through him.

“Right. Well, you smell better, at least.”

Joel rolls his eyes, “Nice one, sweetheart. Thanks. Now scram, so I can get dressed.”

You leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind yourself again. You can hear the sound of the bathtub draining and Joel getting out of the tub as you stop at the linen closet again, this time grabbing some queen sized sheets and pillowcases.

In your living room, you pull some cushions off of your sofa and pull out the built-in bed, then dress it with the sheets and an old floral quilt. You cover your own pillows in the pillowcases, then fluff them nicely and set them up for Joel, who’s leaving the bathroom now, combing his hair back.

“Stole your comb,” he says, tossing it for you to catch. He stops in the living room and looks at the pull-out bed that you made up, the corners of the sheets tucked in and everything. “The hell’s all this?”

“Exactly what it looks like,” You mock his words from earlier. “Your bed.”

“You’re bein’ ridiculous. I ain’t even sick.”

You ignore Joel and point to the bed. “Get in.”

Joel rolls his eyes but gets in the bed anyway, springs squeaking under his weight. “M’not gettin’ in this bed ‘cause I’m sick or ‘cause you’re makin’ me. Just feel like sittin’.”

“Sure, Joel,” you sigh. “How much water have you had today?”

“Plenty.”

“How much is plenty?”

“It’s enough,” he snaps impatiently. You leave him just for a second to fill a glass with some water, then bring it to him. Joel pushes the glass away, “I said I’ve had enough.”

“I’ll decide what’s enough, now here–” you put the glass into his hand, “Drink.”

Joel drinks the entirety of the glass, glaring at you the entire time. Good god, if looks could fucking kill. The cool water soothes his scratchy, sore throat, but Joel won’t tell you that. “You’re a tyrant, sweetheart,” he tells you, voice raspy and low. What he doesn’t tell you, however, is that if the shoe were on the other foot and you were the sick one right now, he'd be just as overbearing over your health. Probably worse.

You pout mockingly at Joel as you take his glass. “Stay here. Don’t get up.”

You get up from the bed to go into the kitchen and begin preparing a soup for Joel to soothe his aching throat. You start by dicing onions, then chopping some carrots. You toss them in a large pot with some butter, letting the vegetables soften. You’ve even got some leftover bread you made yesterday, so you turn on your oven to heat it up. You can hear Joel getting restless, tossing and turning in the less than comfortable bed. Probably should have turned on a movie for him, left him a book or something to occupy his restless mind. “You okay?”

“M’fine. Mind your business.”

You open Joel’s Tupperware and chop up his chicken into little bits. When you look up, Joel’s out of bed. You scoff. He’s forcing open your window, grunting as it squeaks. “Joel, what did I tell you? Get your ass back in that bed.”

“Relax, would ya? M’tryin’ to get some air in here.” Joel successfully forces the window open, and cool air blows into your tediously warmed home. “House is a fuckin’ oven.”

“Yeah, well, that’s probably your fever talking, dumbass. Put my window down.”

“I really outta fix this window for ya. Ain’t good to leave it like this. I’ll get my tools an’ I–”

You march across the kitchen and into the living room, knife in hand and using it to point to the bed. “Joel.”

“You scare me,” Joel mumbles, raising his arms in surrender. He closes the sticky window for you, then you march him back to the pullout. Before Joel lays down, he glances in the kitchen at what you’ve been cooking. He heard the sounds of you chopping, but with his nose all congested he can’t smell enough to hazard a guess as to what you’ve been making. Joel narrows his eyes at the stolen Tupperware on your table, the carrots and onion peels to the side, and recognizes it all as his. “Is that my…?”

“Just lay down, Joel.”

“Did you take that from my fridge?”

“I did.”

You’re completely shameless about this, there’s not even a half-assed attempt at lying your way out, and Joel’s beside himself. “You stole from me, you little–” You urge Joel into bed, fluffing the pillows behind him as you ignore his tantrum. “You are unbelievable. I could throttle you, you know that?”

“Go ahead, Joel,” you challenge. A slight breeze could knock this sick old man down to his knees. You tuck Joel into the sheets, then adjust the quilt over him again. And this time before leaving him, you grab an old book of word searches in a basket under an end table. “Here.” You toss it to him along with a dull pencil. That should keep him busy.

Back in the kitchen, you’re still working on Joel’s soup. It’s bubbling away on the stove, and you’ve just finished making egg noodles to make the dish a little heartier. Something to stick to his ribs. It hits you then, that you don’t hear sniffling or coughing. Joel’s gone quiet, suspiciously so.

And lo and be-fucking-hold, Joel’s up again. This time, with tools. Tools that you don’t have, tools that he must have snuck out and grabbed from his home at some point. “Joel!”

“There,” Joel says, moving your window up and down seamlessly. “Window’s fixed.”

“How many times do I have to say it?”

“How about you try a ‘thank you’, huh?” Joel shoots back.

You shoo him back to bed. You slice a bit of warm bread, then ladle some soup into a bowl and bring it to him with a spoon. “Eat,” you tell him.

Joel eats a spoonful, and it’s written all over his face how much he enjoys it, the warm broth relieving his sore throat. “So what’d you poison it with, huh?”

“Oh, you’re such a dick.”

Joel smiles, only teasing. “M’sorry. S’just that you shouldn’t be doin’ all this for me, s’all.” Joel squeezes your knee comfortingly. “Thank you. I mean it, darlin’.” He’ll let you feed him, but no more than that. You’re too sweet for your own good. “S’good soup.”

“I’m glad you like it, you asshole.” You smile too, and push some of Joel’s hair out of his face. He finishes his bowl of soup, even has a second one. You take his bowl away and wash it at the sink.

“Should let me do that,” Joel says, following you into the kitchen. “Ain’t that how it works? One cooks, the other cleans.” Joel bumps you to the side and takes the soapy dish from your hands.

“Maybe another time,” you offer, attempting to take back the bowl. “Don’t want your germs on my dinnerware.” But Joel holds on tight, so you let him wash the dish. Since he wants to die on this hill. So you dry your hands, then feel his forehead once again. You frown, displeased that the bath didn’t work at curbing his fever at all. He’s still burning up. “I’ll be right back.”

You go to your bathroom and open the cabinet vanity, where you have an old Walgreens thermometer, the paint all smudged off. You wash it with soap and water in the sink, then return to Joel. Amazingly, you find him in the bed doing his word search puzzle, and you didn’t even have to tell him to go lay down this time.

The bed creaks under you as you sit down next to him. You put his book down, “Open,” you tell him, thermometer in hand.

“Oh, c’mon now,” Joel complains. “Get that thermometer outta my face.”

You shake your head no, and tug on Joel's chin so that he opens his mouth. You place the thermometer under his tongue and he closes his lips around it, staring daggers at you the entire time thermometer reads his temperature.

He’s so handsome. Big, sparkling brown eyes underneath brows knit together in irritation. Pouting lips. Age looks good on him, perfectly both softens and enhances his rougher edges.

The thermometer beeps. You read the temperature, 102.3°F. Why Joel’s even upright with a fever like this is a mystery, but that’s men for you. Fucking idiots. “That’s a hell of a fever you’re running, Joel.”

“You’re full’a shit. Gimme that.” Joel sniffles and snatches the thermometer from you to read the number for himself. He shrugs. “S’old. Probably faulty. Can’t trust it.” Joel covers his mouth with his elbow and coughs loudly.

“You’re old and faulty too, Joel. Look at you.” You offer him a handkerchief to wipe his nose. “You’re falling apart.”

Joel scowls at you before blowing his nose. You leave him once more, this time to bring him a cool, damp rag. You press it against his forehead, and Joel closes his eyes. “Does that feel nice?”

“No. Quit that.”

But Joel’s body betrays him. He’s sighing in relief, and his tensed muscles loosen. His breathing, while still shallow, has slowed as much as it can, soft belly rising and falling with steady breaths.

“Are you falling asleep?”

“No, I’m not. M’not tired,” Joel argues. He tries adjusting the now lukewarm rag, warmed by his body heat.

“You should sleep.”

“Nah.”

You take the damp rag off of Joel’s forehead and flip it so that the cooler side soothes his hot, feverish skin. “You know, Joel, I think this is why god made women. To take care of stupid, sick men like you.”

“Hm. Could be so. But I think he sent you to me as a punishment of sorts.”

“Is that so? A punishment?”

“S’right. An’ some day, you’ll fool some poor man into marryin’ you and he’ll have to put up with this same shit the rest of his life. I don’t envy that sorry bastard one bit.”

“Oh, I know,” you coo, wiping away a droplet of water that rolls down his temple. “You tell me all about it, Joel. Tell me how terrible it is.”

“Oh, I intend to.” Joel continues his tirade, bitching and moaning about how you're doing too much, that none of this is necessary. ‘Quit fussin’ over me’ and so on.

You know that after this, Joel will try to leave you, go home and fiddle with things in his home that aren’t broken - or worse yet, he’ll tinker with the things in yours that he deems in need of fixing. Squeaky door, creaky floor panels. You listen to his slight wheezing, his sniffling, his voice all raspy and broken. He really does need to rest, the poor man.

If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man.

You remove the damp rag from Joel’s head and set it on the coffee table behind you. Joel’s eyes are shut as he takes shallow breaths, and you trace lazy patterns on his stomach, inching your way down, down, until you’re rubbing his warm bulge, feeling him stiffen beneath your touch. “Goddamnit, what the hell are you doin’ t’me, now?” Joel groans. He takes your wrist and squeezes it gently in his grip.

“Nothing, Joel,” you answer innocently.

“Bullshit, it’s - you’re - oh, fuck.” Joel bucks into your palm. You slide your hand beneath his sweatpants to touch his bare cock, amused at how Joel decided against wearing boxers today. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart. You gotta, you can’t–”

“Shhh,” you hush him. You drag your nails through his patch of coarse hair, playing with those long and wiry hairs. You palm his cock again, half hard and growing harder by the second. Before this goes further, you tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Lift up for me, Joel.”

Joel lifts his hips and you tug his sweats down the rest of the way, then continue touching him. You spit into your hand and pump him from top to bottom, taking special care to gently massage his balls when you reach the base of his cock. “Ohh, darlin’. Oh lord.”

Joel’s stiffened to full length now. You kiss the tip of his cock, all the way down his shaft before licking your way back up, one long, fat stripe. You swirl your tongue around the head and dip your head, teasing him with it as you bob your head up and down, taking more and more of him down your throat with each pass.

Joel moans, his sick voice breaking a little. He keeps a heavy hand on your bobbing hand and wonders what the hell he did to deserve this from you. He should have stopped fighting his sickness long ago if this is what was in the cards for him.

Realization dawns on Joel. It all makes sense, why you’re sucking him off at this particular moment. You’re trying to put him to bed, you goddamn deviant. “You’re trouble,” he accuses. “I know exactly what you’re doin’.”

“Hmm?” You turn your head to Joel, his cock still in your mouth. You bounce it against your inner cheek, and Joel groans at the lewd image of his cockhead bulging in your mouth.

“Yeah,” Joel says. “And let me - oh, fuck-” You drop your head low, taking all of him into your mouth. So deep that your nose is buried in his pubic hair. “Let me tell ya, darlin’, what you’re doin - it ain’t gonna work on me.”

You pull off of his cock with a pop. “It won’t?”

Joel shakes his head. “Mm-mm. You’re wastin’ your time.”

“Oh. Well, I should stop, then.”

You begin to pull off of his cock, but Joel forces you back down. “Nah, you don’t have t - you gotta give it your best shot, right?”

You smile with Joel’s cock in your mouth. What a fucking guy. You pull off of him only momentarily, garnering a protesting groan spilling from his lips. You take off your shirt and unbutton your pants. “Lemme help you with that, c’mere, darlin’,” Joel says, pulling your pants and panties down your legs. He unclasps your bra next, then sheds his own clothing.

You take him right back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his length. This time, though, you play with your pussy. As you move up and down Joel’s shaft, you slip through your folds, dipping down to your wet hole to gather your arousal on your fingertips. You circle your clit a couple of times, then push your fingers in and out of your pussy.

“You fuckin’ yourself on your fingers, sweetheart?”

“Mm-hm,” you hum, mouth stuffed full of Joel’s cock.

Joel pulls your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own, much thicker and longer ones. “Let me,” he says. “S’my job. Shouldn’t have t’do that to yourself, ‘less you wanna. Or if I say so.”

Joel spreads your thighs wider. He moves his pointer and middle fingers up and down, exploring your slick, velvety pussy. He sucks those two fingers and then his thumb and rubs tight circles around the sensitive nub, all swollen and wet with your arousal. You moan at the action, the vibration of your voice traveling right down his shaft and to his balls. He bucks himself into your mouth.

Joel inserts his middle and ring fingers into your pussy, pumping in and out slowly before curling them upward, stroking right where you need him to. “Got a nice fuckin’ pussy,” he purrs with his hoarse, gravelly voice. You pulse around his fingers, and Joel admires the way your tight hole hugs him as he moves in and out of you. “She’s makin’ such a mess, drippin’ all over me.”

You twist your fist up and down Joel’s shaft as you suck him, working him closer and closer to the edge. Joel’s content with this, the prospect of coming down your throat and fucking you with his fingers. But you have a different idea, and when his balls are tightening and his shaft is twitching, his breathing quickening, you pull off of him.

Joel groans in frustration, but his anger is quickly eased when you straddle his hips. You reach between your legs for his cock and stroke it, dragging the tip through your folds, up and down, up and down, dipping it in and out of yourself to tease him. “You’re fightin’ dirty.”

Joel’s exercised enough self control today and doesn’t let you tease him for long. He puts both of his large, weathered, and masculine hands on your waist and pulls you right down on his cock, the initial penetration causing a stretch so intense you see stars for a second. “Oh god, Joel,” you moan, clutching his shoulders.

“I know, I know,” Joel whispers, rubbing your back. “You good, sweetheart? You need a minute?”

“Just - just a second.”

“Take your time. Know it’s a lot, you’ll get used to it.”

Joel gives you a second, then inches you up and down on his cock to get you adjusted to the sensation of being so full of him. Soon enough, the ache dissipates and is replaced with pleasure, nothing but pure pleasure. You rest against his hot body, rocking your hips to grind against his pubic bone.

You know that by the way he bucked his hips into your mouth, how he pulled you down on his cock, how even now he moves you, that he’ll tire himself out. Your plan was simply to make him come to knock him out, but this - this works too. Exhaust his body, get yourself off in the process. Killing two birds with one stone.

Joel fucks you harder now, hands on your ass to move you up and down on his cock. He bends his legs at the knee for more leverage, bouncing you on his lap. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts. He moves you so that your chest is right above his face, and one at a time, sucks your nipples into his mouth, teeth lightly grazing them.

You hold onto Joel’s broad shoulders to steady yourself, looking down at him as he fucks himself into you. He’s so handsome, cheeks and chest all flushed red, a sheen of sweat glittering at his hairline, his graying curls damp. Joel’s eyebrows are knit together as he fucks you, tracing your curves with his gaze. He pulls you against his chest as he ruts against you, his scruff scratching your skin so deliciously. “Takin’ me so good. Look so pretty on my cock like this.”

You move at his will. Joel’s underneath you, rocking himself in and out of your dripping, tight pussy. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips stuttering in a non-rhythm as he pushes himself inside you over and over. He must be getting close now.

“Up, sweetheart. Lean back f’me.”

You peel yourself off of Joel’s middle, all slick with his sweat. Joel spits into his hand and presses the calloused pads of his fingertips against your clit. You roll your hips against him, savoring that much-needed friction against your clit.

“Like that, darlin’. Jus’ like that. Fuck yourself on my cock,” Joel says, rubbing your sensitive bud with tight circles. “Gonna watch you come all over me.”

“Yeah,” you moan, “Wanna come for you.”

Joel loves you like this. Your face contorted in pleasure, mouth agape, body quivering and twitching on top of him. He steadily massages your wet, swollen clit and wears a crooked smile when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him. And you think you’re pulling one over on him, but look at you, all fucked out and delirious. You’ll probably crash after this, and Joel will go right back to fixing up your house. There’s a door hinge that’s been squeaking…

“Oh my - Joel, I’m - I’m gonna -”

“Know you are, sweetheart. Let me have it,” he groans, voice all broken and hoarse. “Come all over my cock, darlin’. Let go f’me.”

That hot, sticky pleasure in your gut begins to intensify rapidly. You go quiet just before it happens, then let out a long, whimpering moan when your orgasm takes over your body. You shudder and jerk as Joel fucks you through your release, and once you’ve ridden it out, Joel pulls you tight against his chest.

While you come down from your high, Joel frantically fucks you, slamming his hips against yours as he chases his own climax, balls tightening and his belly filling with warmth. “Oh, goddamn. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joel pants as he comes, painting your insides with his hot seed, the warmth of his release and the pulsing of his cock so satisfying.

Coming down from his orgasm, a wave of exhaustion hits Joel. He finds himself unable to move, unable to open his heavy eyelids. He might’ve been wrong, because napping away the rest of the afternoon doesn’t sound quite so bad, now.

You pull your body off of Joel’s and he lets out a sighing grunt when his softening cock slides out of your body, the mess he created with you spilling all over his lap. You grab that washrag you held against his forehead and clean him up and then yourself, then get up to dispose of it.

Joel grabs you by the arm, his grip weak. “Don’t you go anywhere, trouble,” he grumbles.

“But I’ve gotta take care of this, Joel,” you protest.

“Deal with it later. Just -” Joel yawns and pulls you down and holds you tight against his chest, as tight as he can, anyway. “Jus’ stay with me a minute.”

Joel’s eyes are still shut, and his breathing becomes slow and rhythmic. It’s laughable how quickly sleep is taking over his sick, exhausted body, having used what little life he had in himself to fuck you stupid. Like that last burst of energy from a dying star. “I thought you weren’t tired,” you tease.

Joel sniffles. “M’not.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

“Just checkin’ my eyelids for holes.”

You push some curls out of Joel’s face and hold your palm against his cheek, still hot with his fever. He’s so peaceful looking like this, plump lips pouting as he breathes through his mouth. You bring your face close to his and close the gap by pressing a little kiss against his lips.

“What’re you kissin’ me for, hm?”

“I want to,” you reply, kissing him again.

“Gonna get yourself sick,” Joel murmurs groggily, eyes still closed. “Which means in a couple days, I get to do all this right back to you. S'payback, darlin’.”

You chuckle. And in just a few short seconds, Joel’s snoring lightly, dead to the world.

If you enjoyed, please please please reblog with thoughts or comment or hop in my inbox! Your kind words go farther than you know in keeping me motivated to write 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #grumpy joel #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #Joel miller #pedro pascal characters #tlou #tlou smut #the last of us #Joel tlou #tlou Joel

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joelsgu4tar · 7 months ago

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JOEL MILLER FIC RECS

⇾ 18+ minors DNI, read at your own risk! ⇽

an appreciation to all my favourite writers out there you deserve all the love <3

Series

— Something To Fight For by @auteurdelabre | After a disastrous blind date you decide to stay away from the miserable Joel Miller forever...

— I Know Who You Are by @punkshort | A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long-term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.

— The One You Need by @loliwrites | When you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at arm’s length, your neighbour Joel finds his way into your life.

— By The Grit Of Sandpaper by @penvisions | An offhand comment from you inspires Joel to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed...

— I Wanna Be Your Lover by @shellshocklove | Miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor, you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?

— If The Door Wasn't Shut by @heartpascal | months of travelling with Joel and Ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.

— Stay In Bed by @psychedelic-ink | After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance.

— That's A Real Fucking Legacy by @wyn-n-tonic | When Tommy disappears in search of a better life with a promise to come back for you, his years of absence and the grief it leaves behind drives you and his brother closer together until the man you're sharing a bed and starting a family with is Joel Miller and not the one you always thought it would be.

One-Shots

— No Time To Die by @davosmymaster | The main difficulty of being Joel’s closest friend is not falling in love with him, but you still do. Those feelings are buried until you join him on a mission to trade supplies with Bill and Frank. With your life now hanging by a thread, Joel is determined to get you to safety, but the clock is ticking faster than he can run.

— White Lies by @poeticpascal | Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.

— Saying Thanks by @vivwritescrappythings | Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesn’t even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joel’s decided he doesn’t like it.

— Soft & Sweet by @cavillscurls | You share your first kiss with the last man you ever expected: your older, grouchy, overly protective patrol partner, Joel Miller.

— Who We Are by @gracieheartspedro | Being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in eventually.

— Warm Me Up by @tightjeansjavi | While on patrol, you and Joel find yourselves caught in a treacherous snowstorm.

— Love In the Time Of Cordyceps by @sameheart-sameblood | When the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. Joel Miller makes that rule hard to stick to.

— Puppy Love by @absurdthirst | You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.

— Light The Flame by @yeollie-plz | Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?

— Best I Ever Had by @endlessthxxghts | Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.

— Make A Move On Me by @freelancearsonist | You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodelling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

— Fire Walk by @motherofagony | A chance encounter at a motel has you crossing paths with a stranger in a blue t-shirt.

— Cry Baby by @psychedelic-ink | bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in Jackson. As the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of Joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.

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pedrospatch · 3 months ago

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run

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

*moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only. no mention of reader’s race or skin tone.

summary: When you’re given the chance to run from your captor, you don’t take it.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. MENTIONS PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). reader is described washing her hair (the exact length is not specified) and she wears a dress. she is also shorter than Joel. violence, kidnapping, reader has major stockholm syndrome, Joel is fairly soft for her but HE IS STILL NOT A GOOD MAN, brief mention of Tess and Joel being involved with each other, Tess seems like the villain but she might actually be the only one of these three who is not totally fucked up in the head. SMUT. daddy kink. size difference (no description of reader’s body type, Joel is just a big guy with a big dick, enjoy it). oral sex (female receiving), super risky unprotected p in v sex (mention of reader ovulating, Joel pulls out, don’t be be like these two, practice safe sex), creampie (yeah he doesn’t give a fuck the second time around). many, many pet names (baby, baby girl, honey, angel, sweetheart, little girl). um i think that’s it. oh, and they fuck in the dirt.

PLEASE HEED ALL WARNINGS.

word count: 8.6k

a/n: one thing about me is i WILL soften up EVERY version of Joel Miller to my little heart’s content. HUGE HUGE thank you to @endlessthxxghts and @joelsdagger for lending me their eyes and beta-ing this fic for me last night. <33 i love and appreciate you guys SO MUCH. i loved seeing you both in the doc at the same exact time lmao. this can be read as a standalone, but it is considered part of the captive universe.

Everyone in the group has a job. Except for you.

Or at least, that’s what you hear them say.

That bitch doesn’t do shit.

She never has to lift a fucking finger.

She should work for her meal—just like the rest of us.

Bitterness laces their tones when they talk about you.

Insults grow a little bolder when he’s not around.

Useless.

Freeloader.

Leech.

You might not be out there with a rifle in hand hunting game or invading camps and spilling blood for supplies—but you do in fact have a job, and that job is to make Joel Miller happy. It is your responsibility, your duty, to please him, and to keep him satisfied. Because keeping him satisfied keeps him in a good mood, and one thing you’ve come to learn about your captor is, where there is a good mood, often there is mercy.

Hell, you’re doing them a favor by keeping their violent, fearsome leader in a good mood. Because you’ve seen what he does to them when he’s not. He can be just as brutal towards his own people as he is to strangers.

It doesn’t make a difference, though. They still see you as nothing more than his coddled little whore.

“Fuck, that’s it.”

He groans, his thick, callused fingers digging harshly into the softness of your flesh as he holds you firmly in place underneath him. “Oh fuck, baby girl,” Joel curses through gritted teeth, his hands gripping your hips as he uses his own weight against you, pressing you down into the old mattress until you feel every uncomfortable lump, each creaking spring.

While he isn’t fucking you as roughly as he has on other occasions, he’s hardly being gentle. It’s hard, fast.

Loud.

Joel couldn’t care less about the rest of the group, the men and women on the other side of the wall, forced to listen to the sounds coming from the single bedroom of the cabin he decided they would hunker down in for the remainder of the summer season. Strings of curses and brutish grunts that came rumbling from deep within his chest, pleading gasps and whimpers that fell from your swollen, bitten lips. If anything, knowing they were listening only spurred him on—it didn’t hurt to remind them, especially the men with wandering eyes, that you were his special girl.

His good girl.

You certainly did your job, and you did it so, so well.

“Christ, sweetheart. M’so fuckin’ close—” Joel picks up speed, his hips snapping even harder, faster, the front of his thighs slapping against the backs of yours. Each thrust causes the bed’s rusted, iron headboard to slam violently against the wood panel wall.

You clutch fistfuls of the single, stale, yellowing sheet beneath you, each stroke he delivers knocking the wind out of your lungs, making it harder to breathe. He is so heavy on top of you, this big, broad, bulk of a man who makes you feel swallowed, smothered, and small. Joel takes up so much room inside of you, and it’s a wonder how you could possibly have any space left to spare.

It’s a fullness you can’t seem to get enough of.

It’s a craving, a need.

Worst of all, it’s slowly becoming a want.

“Daddy,” you choke out, fisting the sheet tighter, your skin stretching taut over your knuckles. Can the others also hear the squelch of your drenched cunt around his cock as it begs him for more?

“Fuck. You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby,” Joel croons his praise. His hands abandon your hips and he hunches over you, his thrusts momentarily ceasing. He crushes his chest against your sweaty, quivering back and leans forward even further, bracing his large hands on either side of you. Then, his lips move to the shell of your ear and he speaks, his breath blazing hot on your skin. “Y’take me so well, honey. Y’take Daddy’s cock so fuckin’ well. This pretty little pussy was fuckin’ made for me. She was made jus’ for me—ain’t that right, angel?”

He’s right.

Oh, how you fucking hated that he was right.

It was made for him. Your cunt. Your body. You.

Every part of you was made for him, and only for him.

All you can do is nod dumbly in agreement.

“Say it,” Joel whispers his firm command. “Wanna hear you say it. Be a good girl and use your words. Say it, say this pussy is made for me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan obediently, prompting him to grin against your ear. “My pussy is made for you, just—just for you. No one—no one else. Only you.” Could this really be the same voice that would break, grow hoarse from screaming for him to stop? The same voice that would beg and plead for him to set you free?

Jutting his hips forward, Joel buries himself to the hilt, eliciting a noise from you, something caught between a pained whimper and a contented sigh. His balls, heavy and full for you, rest on your clit, which is still sensitive to the touch after he’d spent a majority of the morning with his head buried in between your legs. Desiring yet another release, you try wriggling around beneath him in a silent plea for more. More, more, more.

Please, Daddy. More.

Joel’s grin widens. He places one of his hands on your soft lower belly, fingers dragging down the slope of it until he finds the slick swell of your seam between your legs where his girth splits you open. “Ready, baby?”

Nodding, you open your mouth to answer him, but the sound of your own groan cuts you off when his fingers firmly circle around your throbbing, swollen bud. “Oh,” you breathe, instantly sinking right into his touch. Your eyes screw shut tightly in pleasure, and you throw your head back onto his shoulder. The scruff of his beard is rough on your cheek, and it burns, the same way it had burned the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

His hips find their rhythm as you rub against his hand—you’re almost there. He knows this, you can tell by the chuckle that thunders in his chest and against your back. But you’re too busy chasing your pleasure to be embarrassed.

He’s made you a needy, greedy girl.

“Daddy,” you mewl, trying your hardest to move under him, to work your cunt up and down on his cock. “I’m gonna come—” You gasp, back arching as Joel strokes in and out, his fingers rubbing your clit with urgency.

Joel plants a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek. “Give it to me, baby,” he grunts. “C’mon. Lemme feel her squeeze me.”

Feeling how close he is too, you try to hold on for just a little bit longer, at least long enough to finish with him, but Joel’s relentless, and you’re forced off of the ledge you’re both standing on first.

Crying out, your walls spasm around him, asking to be filled until he’s made a complete mess out of you, until white leaks, and it slowly dribbles down the insides of your trembling thighs.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel rasps. He lifts himself off you and he pulls out, taking his throbbing cock in his hand. His chest heaves as he fists himself, the wet sound of your slick in his palm filling the room. “Down,” he grits, and you obey him, lowering down yourself on the mattress until you’re lying almost completely flat before him. He gives himself one final stroke just as you look over your shoulder at him, the gentle flutter of your eyelashes the last push he needs. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck—” Joel spills his load, shooting thick ropes of warm cum along the soft curve of your spine.

You rest your cheek on your folded arms, biting back a small sigh.

He’s left behind an ache—you feel painfully empty.

But it was Tess, who had been given the task of helping you track your menstrual cycle, that had given him the warning earlier that morning. “She’s ovulating. Don’t be a fucking idiot, Joel. Last thing we need is for her to—”

“Relax,” he’d gruffed in response. “I fuckin’ know.”

Spent, Joel hunches over you once more and he lightly kisses the top of your head before burying his nose into your hair. “Good girl,” he murmurs. Affection that once was unwelcome and unwanted, that once made you feel sick to your fucking stomach, now makes you feel something else entirely. You’re not quite sure what it is, only that it’s warm. Comforting. “Y’did so well for me, sweetheart. Always do.”

Your lips curl into a faint, tired smile he doesn’t see.

A while later, you find yourself perched on the bed with the sheet wrapped around you, quietly watching as he gets dressed. “Daddy?” you say tentatively as he drops into a nearby chair to pull on his boots.

“What is it, baby girl?”

“Do you—do you think we can go to the creek today?”

Joel finishes lacing his boots and looks up at you.

“I’d really like to wash up,” you admit, softly. That, and you would like to see the light of day. He’d boarded up the windows with slabs of wood—sometimes, if you’re lucky, you get some decent light seeping through the teeny gaps.

“Not today, honey. I’ve got some things to take care of. Supplies are low, we gotta do a run. Don’t have the time to take you.” He stands and picks up his rifle, slinging the strap of it over his shoulder. Noticing the crestfallen expression on your face, Joel’s eyes soften. He walks over and gingerly cups the side of your face in his palm. His thumb strokes your cheek. “Promise I’ll take you to the creek tomorrow, sweetheart. First thing. Alright?”

Nodding, your eyes fall to your hands in your lap.

“Okay.”

Joel kisses your forehead, then leaves the room.

He makes sure to lock the door from the outside, and you can’t help but wonder if he knows locking you in is no longer necessary.

“I can take her.”

Joel’s dark eyes remain focused on the state map laid out on the table in front of him. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about, Tess?” He sees her in his periphery, but is too busy figuring out the group’s best route to look her way.

“I heard her asking you to take her to the creek so she can bathe,” she tells him. “I can take her.”

Finally, his head snaps up and he turns to her. “What?”

Tess leans her hip against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. “You and Tommy can take the group, go and take care of what you have to take care of. I’ll stay behind and take her down to the creek,” she suggests casually, as if she’s not asking him to trust her with his most prized possession—the only damn thing on what was left of this fucking earth Joel Miller actually gives a shit about. “Once she’s washed up, I’ll bring her back to the cabin and put her back into the room. Easy.”

Joel stares at her, bewildered. “What makes you think I’d fuckin’ allow somethin’ like that?”

“Oh, come on.” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Anytime I bitch about having to do something for that girl, you’re on my fucking case about it, and now that I’m offering to do something for her, you don’t wanna let me?”

He shakes his head and lowers his voice. “You’re talkin’ about takin’ her outside, Tess. Without me.”

“The creek’s just a mile away,” Tess reminds him. “I’m pretty sure I can handle getting her there and back with no trouble, Joel.” When he says nothing, she cocks her head to the side and scoffs. “What? You don’t trust me enough to take her under my wing for a couple hours?”

Joel’s lips pull into a tight line.

Of course he does. Tess was his right hand woman, his second in command.

He trusted her more than his own fucking brother. She had never given him any reason not to, had never given him a reason to doubt her loyalty to him. No, his lack of trust has nothing to do with Tess—but everything to do with you. He doesn’t trust you. He will never trust you.

“What if she tries to—?” He can’t even say it.

“Tries to what?” She pauses. “Run?”

His throat goes dry and he gives her a subtle nod.

Joel Miller was a bad man who did bad things, but you were his good. You’ve brought back some meaning into this wretched life of his, gave him something that felt a lot like a sense of purpose. You were something for him to take care of, to keep safe and protect.

Tess raises an eyebrow at him. “You think I’d even give her the chance? Besides, the girl’s not that stupid, Joel. She knows better than to try anything. She knows she wouldn’t get very fucking far.”

“Tess—”

“I’m just trying to do something nice for her. Besides, I think it might do her some good to be in the company of someone else for once—the company of a woman.”

Joel peers at her, taking a minute to think it over in his mind before asking, “You’ll have her back in the room before I get back to the cabin?”

“Long before then,” she swears. “All in one piece.”

He hesitates. He’s still not sure.

It’s then that he remembers that disappointed look on your sweet, pretty little face. “Alright,” he relents with a deep sigh. “I trust you, Tess.”

It always feels a bit strange to be outside.

But being outside without Joel?

It feels even stranger.

When he’d walked back into the room and told you Tess was willing to take you to the creek, the news had taken you by complete surprise. When he said he was willing to let her take you, that you almost couldn’t believe. It hadn’t even sunk in until the three of you stood outside the cabin and he was kissing your forehead sweetly in a temporary goodbye before turning to Tess.

“Never take your eyes off her,” he’d instructed her.

“She’ll behave.” She had smiled at you as she pulled her pistol from the waistband of her jeans, the gleam of the silver barrel catching your eye. “Isn’t that right?”

Swallowing dryly, you had answered with a strained, “Of course.”

She’s the last fucking person you wanted to cross. She was almost as terrifying as Joel, if not more.

“Tess? W-Where are we going?” you ask as you trudge along behind her, hoping you don’t sound as winded as you feel. Although you had no way to keep track of the time, it felt like you’d been trekking for at least an hour. Your feet are starting to hurt in your shoes—old, worn, yellow canvas sneakers that certainly weren’t made for hiking. “I don’t remember the creek being this far from the cabin.”

Tess snorts. “Don’t tell me you’re tired already.”

“It’s just—we��ve been walking for a really long time.”

She glances over her shoulder at you. “Here I thought you would be a little fucking grateful to be out getting some fresh air,” she chuckles, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the path ahead.

“I am,” you squeak, stumbling over a fallen branch.

Silence falls over the both of you.

“We’re not going to the creek,” Tess finally speaks after a minute. “I’m taking you somewhere else. Somewhere even better. Just trust me, kid. Now hurry up.”

It takes another hour before you reach your destination, and you hear it before you can even see it, a humming sound that turns into buzzing the closer you get. Then, you feel it, a vibration in the rocks beneath your feet. “Is that a—?” Stepping around her, your mouth falls open in absolute awe at the sight before you.

The waterfall is nestled right in between the trees and surges over the rocky mountain, throwing up bubbles of spray as it plunges into the lake at the bottom, and from there, it foams into a thick, white lather at the base. On the bank, where you stand, you spot different types of vegetation you couldn’t identify even if you tried—all you know is that it’s green, and it’s beautiful.

“This is incredible,” you gasp.

“Way better than some little creek, huh?” Tess tucks her pistol into the waistband of her jeans and shrugs off her pack. She digs around in the front pocket and pulls out something wrapped in a piece of crumpled brown tissue paper. She hands it to you. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“Well, if you’d fucking open it, you would know,” Tess rolls her eyes. “It’s my last piece of soap. It’s all yours.”

Her kind generosity comes as a surprise—usually, Tess wanted nothing to do with you. But you don’t question it, and you certainly don’t turn the rare luxury down.

“Thanks,” you say, shooting her a grateful look.

Tess nods towards the body of water. “Alright, then. Go on and get to it.”

You take the piece of soap out the tissue. The scent of lavender is faint, but still very much there. Joel will like the smell of it on your skin tonight, you think.

As you start to pull the strap of your cotton blue dress down your shoulder, you feel her gaze fixed intently on you. Heat rushes to your cheeks. “Uh, aren’t you going to turn around?”

“For fuck’s sake,” she scoffs. “I’ve got what you’ve got. Now hurry up, we don’t have all fucking day.”

Nodding, you peel off your dress and underwear, your face on fire as the older woman’s eyes slowly drag over your naked body. Carefully, you step off the bank and wade into the water. It’s so clear that you can count the pebbles underneath your feet.

Leaning against a nearby tree, Tess calls out, “You have ten minutes! And stay out of the waterfall! Last thing I need is for you to fucking drown.”

As she lights a cigarette, you can’t help but stare at her. Her features, though worn down after the hell she had been through trying to survive the post outbreak world, are beautiful. Big, dark green eyes, a perfect nose, and full, pouty lips. There’s never been a doubt in your mind that she and Joel have been involved with one another, and lately, the mere thought of anything between them made you uncomfortable.

It’s an odd sensation deep in your gut—jealousy?

But what were you jealous of? Her having had him first?

It shouldn’t matter to you, but it does. Insecurities you have never in your life felt before seep into your bones.

“Anyone ever tell you it’s fucking rude to stare?” Tess quips, raising an eyebrow at you. She shoves her lighter into the back pocket of her jeans.

Nervously, you sink lower into the water, nibbling the inside of your cheek. “Tess? Can I ask you something?”

“What could you possibly fucking want to ask me?”

You hesitate.

“How—how long have you known each other?”

“Who?” Tess plucks the cigarette from between her lips and flicks the ashes. “Me and Joel?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

She shrugs. “Don’t know. Six, seven years?”

“How did you two meet?”

“Long story that’s none of your fucking business.”

You ask your next question before you lose your nerve. “Have you two ever—?” Unsure of how to phrase it, you stop and clamp your mouth shut in instant regret.

“Have we ever what?” Tess studies your face, and she quickly realizes what you’re trying to ask her. “You’re seriously asking me if me and Joel have ever fucked?”

Biting your bottom lip, you glance down into the water at your feet. You honestly don’t expect her to answer, so when she does, you look back up at her in surprise.

“Yeah.” She takes a long drag from her cigarette, then adds, “Few times.”

Something unpleasant claws at your insides. “You two were together? Like a couple?”

“Something like that,” Tess mutters, flicking her ashes once more.

“What happened?”

She looks at you, pausing before answering, “You.”

Oh.

Before you can utter another word, Tess snaps, “Quit asking so many goddamn fucking questions and finish up washing. You’ve got eight minutes left.”

Not wanting to push your luck further than you already have, you do as she tells you in complete silence.

You lather up the soap in your hands, washing your hair first, and then your face and body, using your hands to scrub yourself as best as you can. Between the calming scent of the soap, the soothing sound of the waterfall, and the warm afternoon sun, you find yourself relaxing. You try to clear your mind, live in this peaceful moment which you very well may never get again, but your mind begins to wander.

And it wanders straight to Joel.

Closing your eyes, you can’t help but picture him here, standing behind you in the lake. You can almost feel his hands on you, long, thick fingers lathered with lavender soap, sliding down your body. His lips at your neck, he cups your breasts in his hands, rolling his thumbs over your hardened nipples until your head lulls, falling back onto his shoulder. Joel drags his hands further down, over your stomach, going lower and lower towards the place where you need them the most. “Yeah, baby?” he murmurs into your neck, dipping one of them between your legs until you are, quite literally, in the palm of his hand. “This where y’need me?”

Breathless, you respond, “It’s where I want you.”

Suddenly, your eyes snap open.

There is a wetness between your thighs, one that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re standing waist-deep in the middle of a lake. You shake those thoughts away and finish washing yourself.

“Time’s up,” Tess calls. She meets you on the bank with a dry rag. “Here.”

The rag doesn’t exactly cover much surface area, but you dry yourself off as best you can before tugging on your underwear and slipping on your dress. Just as you crouch down to slip your shoes on, she tosses her pack and it lands in front of you with a soft thud.

Confused, you glance up at her.

“There’s about a week’s worth of jerky in there. Longer, if you know how to ration,” Tess explains, calmly. “And a canteen for water. I also packed you a flashlight and a pocket knife. It’s not much, but—”

Frowning, you rise to your feet. “What are you talking about, Tess? What’s going on? Why are you giving me your pack?”

“Because I’m giving you a chance, kid.”

A feeling of dread pools in the pit of your stomach.

“A chance to what?”

“Run.”

Your heart stutters a beat. “Run?”

“He’ll come looking for you. You need to get as far away from here as possible. Run away, as far as you can, and don’t fucking look back.”

All you can do is stare at her in shocked silence.

“I can help you get a head start,” Tess offers, quietly. “I can show you which direction to go in and put you on a path leading to the closest state highway—”

“But what if I don’t want to run?”

Tess places her hands on her hips, and she exhales an incredulous laugh. “Jesus,” she breathes, shaking her head in pity. “He’s really got you fucking brainwashed, doesn’t he?”

You glare at her. “I am not brainwashed, Tess.”

“You’ve gotta be if you’re telling me you wanna go back to him.”

“Tess—”

She cuts you off. “He gave the order to raid your camp and kill your people,” she reminds you. “He fucking slit your father’s throat right in front of you, then took you as his prisoner. He made you his fucking sex slave.”

“He takes care of me! He feeds me, makes sure I have a bed to sleep in no matter where we are. He keeps me safe. He—he cares about me.” You will your voice not to tremble as you stand your ground. “No. I’m not running away, Tess. I want to go back.”

Tess sighs. “You’re really not gonna make this easy, are you?”

“Take me back,” you all but demand, your hands curled into the least menacing little fists she had ever seen in her life at your sides. “Take me back to the cabin—take me back to him, Tess. I mean it.”

Amused, she huffs through her nose. “Or else what?”

“You can’t make me run away, Tess.” As you take a step towards her, she reaches behind her and swiftly whips out her pistol from the waistband of her jeans. You halt, freezing in fear when she aims the barrel of the gun at your chest.

“Actually, I can,” she says, her finger hovering over the trigger. “So here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna walk away now. And if you even think about following me, or trying to find your way back to the group, you will die.” She tosses you a tiny, wry smile. “Believe it or not, I’m doing you a real big favor, kid. Problem is, he’s got you so fucked in the head that you can’t see it.”

“Tess, please,” you plead. “Don’t do this to me!”

She begins to back away. “Remember when you’d say that to him? How you’d beg him not to do those things to you every night? Beg him to let you go?”

“Please, just take me back to him!”

You start to follow her.

“You take one more fucking step and I’ll shoot you,” she threatens, her eyes darkening. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Tess keeps her pistol pointed at you until she slips into the trees and disappears, abandoning you in the middle of the forest.

He’s furious. Livid.

Joel paces back and forth on the porch.

“Where the fuck are they?”

The old, rotting wood that wraps all the way around the cabin creaks, and certain softer spots bend and buckle, threatening to give way beneath his heavy boots. Joel’s younger brother leans against the railing, which is just as fragile, an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“Christ, Joel. Can you fuckin’ relax?” Tommy grumbles, fishing around in his back pocket for his lighter. “You’re gonna bring the whole damn cabin down if ya don’t cut that shit out.” He sparks a flame and lights the filtered end of the cigarette. He takes a long drag, and exhales the smoke through his nose. “You’re gettin’ worked up over nothin’, brother.”

“S’almost sundown, and they’re still not fuckin’ back.” Joel shakes his head. “Fuckin’ knew I shouldn’t have let Tess take her. Somethin’ happened, Tommy. I just know it.” He lifts his shirt and reaches for his pistol, pulling it from the waistband of his jeans. “M’gonna head to the creek myself to find ‘em. Ain’t gonna sit around on my goddamn hands and wait for it to get fuckin’ dark.”

“She’s with Tess. M’sure the girl’s fine—” Tommy stops, his eyes widening slightly. “Well, hell.”

“What?”

Tommy jerks his chin over Joel’s shoulder before taking another slow, casual drag of his cigarette. He savors the last few seconds of peace before shit inevitably hits the fan and his brother unleashes his wrath on anything, or anyone, in his path.

Joel whips around and his stomach sinks, his blood ice in his veins when he sees Tess approaching the cabin. Alone.

Both his mind and body go numb. It’s a jarring shock to his nervous system, and it takes him a minute or two to fully process the fact that you’re not with her.

“Joel,” Tess says his name carefully as he descends the porch steps and walks towards her. “I need you to take a breath, alright?”

“Where—where is she?” His voice breaks, his weakness momentarily slipping through the cracks.

Not that Tess didn’t already know you were Joel Miller’s weakness, his soft white underbelly, the only vulnerable part of his hardened self that could be penetrated—you would have been his downfall. As much as she’d like to say she did what she did solely for your own good, she also did it for his, and for the sake of the group as a whole.

It needed to be done.

He stands in front of her, a ticking time bomb about to go off.

Prepared to face whatever consequences of the choice she had made, Tess tucks her gun away and sighs. “You need to take a breath—”

Joel snatches her arm, his fingers digging into the flesh above her elbow. His emotions hit him all at once.

Fear, worry, anger. It’s the third that takes precedence, and before Tess can utter another word, Joel yanks her forward. She crashes against his chest so hard that it knocks the wind out of her. “Where the fuck is she?” He leans down, his nostrils flaring as he brings their faces the closest they have been in almost a year.

“Joel, take a fucking breath—”

“Where. Is. She.” His grip on her arm tightens with each word he bites out through his teeth. He’s vaguely aware the others have piled out of the cabin, gathering on the porch to watch the altercation.

“She ran,” Tess explains, calmly. She doesn’t falter, not even as his fingers sink deeper into her skin, promising her painful bruises which will take days to fade away. If he decided to let her live. “She ran away, Joel. I turned my back for one fucking second and she was gone. She even took my fucking pack. I tried going after her, but it was no use. She was too fast.”

Behind him, Tommy snorts. “She outran you?”

Her eyes momentarily flicker to him. “Her knees are a lot younger than mine,” she replies, flatly.

“Which direction did she go in?” Joel demands. When Tess doesn’t immediately respond, he shouts, “Which fucking direction!”

Tess manages to snatch her arm out of his grasp. She glowers at him, hissing, “What the hell does it matter which direction she went? You won’t fucking find her.”

His eyes meet hers, and he sees it. Feels it.

She’s lying to him.

“Tess.” Joel’s voice drops dangerously low. He studies her face, his brows creasing with suspicion. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do shit, Joel. She fucking ran away.”

Without warning, Joel takes her by her throat. His other hand brings his pistol to her head, shoving the barrel of it against her temple. His nose touches hers. “Now, tell me why I have the feelin’ you’re not tellin’ me the whole truth?”

Tess lifts her chin. She searches his eyes, a sharp ache shooting through her. After everything, all the hell they had been through together—he would end her life, put a bullet in her because of you? Did she mean that little to him?

Or maybe she’d never meant anything to him at all?

She’s not sure which stings more.

“Because you’ve fucking deluded yourself into thinking that she willingly wants anything to do with you,” Tess finally answers. “That’s why.”

He ignores the burn of her scorching words.

“Where the fuck is she, Tess?”

“If she’s smart, she’s far away from here by now,” she hisses. “I did everyone a fucking favor, Joel. That girl is just another fucking mouth to feed. And what if you get her pregnant? That’ll be another one. Not to mention, a crying baby could draw unwanted attention and get us all killed. Ever thought about that? She’s not an asset to the group, she’s a fucking liability. Besides, I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’re all fucking tired of hearing you ra—”

Joel digs the barrel harder into her temple, his finger hovering over the trigger. “Listen to me. You’ve got ten seconds to tell me where she is, y’understand me?”

“Or what? You’ll blow my brains out?” Foolishly, Tess chooses to call his bluff despite not knowing for certain whether or not he’ll actually pull the trigger. “Go ahead, then. Kill me, Joel.”

His finger twitches over the trigger, but he doesn’t pull it. He can’t fucking pull it. Not on her. Not on Tess.

Still in his hands, she sags slightly in relief.

Swallowing harshly, Joel Miller lowers his gun and does something she’s never seen him do before. He begs.

“Tess, tell me where she is,” he whispers. His pleading is subtle, and only she can hear it. “Please—just fuckin’ tell me where my girl is.”

Tess stands her ground and says nothing.

Releasing her, Joel shoves her aside and with nothing but his gun in his hand, he sets off to find you.

“Ow, fuck!”

You gasp, quickly lifting your bare foot off the ground.

You’d stepped on something sharp—a stick, or maybe a rock?

In a desperate attempt to try and keep up with Tess’ tracks, you had stupidly left behind your shoes back at the waterfall. But the mere seconds you had spared by not stopping to put your shoes on hadn’t given you the advantage you thought it would. She had moved much too fast, and within minutes, you’d become helplessly, hopelessly lost. Every tree and every bush, they all look exactly the same, and for all you know, you’ve probably been going around in fucking circles for the past couple of hours in your search for her footprints in the dirt.

Sagging against the trunk of a nearby tree, you take a minute to try and catch your breath, to give your poor little feet a break from hiking over fallen branches and jagged stones.

Your head falls back, eyes gazing through the canopy of trees. Dusk has settled in, and nightfall is on its heels. It was foolish of you to leave behind your shoes, but even more so to leave behind the pack she had given you—in the pack were all the things meant to help you survive. Knife, flashlight, food.

Sure, you can survive a night out here in the wilderness without any of those things—but then what? Come dawn, what do you do? Where do you go? Do you just stumble around in the woods and hope for the best? Pray you’ll make it onto a highway with signs that will point you to a quarantine zone?

Hell, maybe you’re overestimating yourself. Maybe you wouldn’t survive long enough to worry about your next move. Howls in the distance remind you there’s wildlife out here, dangerous predators that come out after dark in search of their next meal. Or what about infected? It wasn’t unheard of for them to veer off the highway and lose themselves in the trees.

You recall your first few weeks in Joel Miller’s hands.

Escaping them was all you could ever think about, even though the chances of you surviving alone were slim to none, just like they are now. Never having been on your own, death would have been inevitable—but back then, in your darkest moments in captivity, you wished for it. You’d welcomed the idea of starving, freezing, or being torn apart limb from limb by an entire hoard of clickers. At least then, you’d die with your freedom.

Almost a year later, that wish has been granted.

You’re free.

You may very well die, but you would die free.

Closing your eyes, you think about Joel. His arms, that once held you down—held you still—as he did all those things to you without your consent, are arms your heart yearns to have wrapped around you, holding you close.

“Jesus,” you grit, a tear rolling down your cheek.

Maybe Tess had been right. Maybe he really does have you fucked in the head.

Joel was a monster. He had taken everything from you, including your innocence. He’d defiled you in ways you hadn’t known were possible. He was a terrible, terrible man.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you fed.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you warm.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you safe.

Another tear slides down the side of your face. What is fucking wrong with you?

You don’t know. But what you do know is, the thought of never seeing Joel again is somehow more terrifying to you than the thought of dying even the most brutal of deaths.

A loud rustling sound brings your train of thought to an immediate, sudden halt, and your eyes wrench open.

It’s darker now, but you manage to catch a movement in the shrubs, only mere feet in front of you. Panic flares in your chest, it rattles you to your very core, and even though every nerve in your body is urging you to move, you freeze, your back flush against the tree trunk. Your fingernails dig painfully into the bark as you watch the shrubs part down the middle, and a tall, hulking figure emerges with a heavy grunt.

At first, you think it’s just a figment of your imagination showing you what you wanted to see—a hallucination. Blinking furiously, you lightly shake your head, and then take another look at him. Your breath hitches when you realize it’s Joel.

He stares at you in the same manner, as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re real, or if his mind is playing a cruel, cruel trick on him. Feet cemented to the forest floor, he watches you take a small, tentative step towards him.

Once adamant that you’d never look him in the eye, you find your gaze locking directly with his as you carefully take another step closer. Then another, and another.

“Joel?” It’s the first time you’ve ever uttered his name.

He seems as taken aback hearing it as you are saying it.

“Joel.” It rolls off your tongue smoother, and with more ease the second time around.

It sparks a flame somewhere deep, deep inside of him, a fire that burns differently than those ignited by carnal desires.

No, this is something else entirely, and you feel it too.

“Baby?” he whispers hoarsely. “S’that really you?”

“Joel!” you cry, hurling yourself into his arms.

Joel’s gun falls from his hand and he curls them around you. Burying his nose into your hair, he inhales deeply. The scent of you, the feel of you—you’re fucking real.

Shuddering with sobs of relief, your arms wrap around his waist, and you cling to him as if you’re clinging onto dear, precious life itself.

“Hush now, s’alright,” Joel soothes, cradling the back of your head in one hand, while the rubs soft, calming circles into your back. “I’ve got you, honey. M’here.”

“I swear I didn’t want to run away,” you explain through your tears. “I begged her to take me back to you, Joel, I really did! But she left me out here—she said she would shoot me if I tried following her back. Please, you have to believe me, you just have to believe me!”

He squeezes you harder against his chest. “I do, baby. I do believe you,” he assures you. Pulling away, he takes a step backward and takes your face between his palms, peering at you in concern. “Y’hurt, sweetheart?”

“No,” you hiccup, curling your hands around his wrists. Your lower lip trembles. “I—I thought I’d never see you again. I was scared I wouldn’t,” you admit, softly.

Joel’s thumb wipes away a fresh tear. “M’here now,” he murmurs. “You’re with me, baby. You’re safe, alright?” As a late evening breeze passes through, he lets you go and shrugs out of his brown jacket. He goes to drape it around your shoulders, but you snatch it right out of his hands, then toss it aside.

Something in you snaps. You take fistfuls of his flannel, pulling him down towards you to do yet something else that takes you both by surprise—you initiate a kiss. You lean forward and press your lips to his, a little swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip as you clutch tighter at his shirt, holding him in place. Groaning, Joel opens his mouth more, his tongue brushing yours.

Liquid heat pools in your belly, and before you realize it, you’ve grown frantic, kissing him with fervor. Releasing his shirt, you slide your hands down his chest, over his stomach, lower and lower until you find his belt buckle. Desperate, you clumsily fumble with it, and that’s when Joel tears away from you, his breath hitching.

You’re begging before he can even say a word. “Please. I need you—I want you. Right now.”

You cup him through his jeans, and he exhales sharply.

“Fuck.” Without giving it a second thought, his hands reach for the straps of your dress, pushing them off of your shoulders. He roughly tugs at the material, letting it slip down your body until it falls around your feet. In a tangle of limbs and tongues, you both sink to the forest floor. Your hands brush his buckle, and he catches your wrists. “Not yet, baby girl. M’still in charge, alright?”

Sheepishly, you nod.

“Say it.” His command is firm, but somehow still gentle.

“You’re—you’re in charge.”

“Good girl.” Joel guides you onto your back. He’s over you in a second, swelling your lips with a hard, hungry kiss that leaves you dizzy and breathless. He moves his mouth, teeth scraping over your cheek and jaw, down to your neck where he nips at the tender, delicate flesh over your pulse point. Then, he bites his way over your collarbone and to your shoulder. “Bet she’s already wet for me,” he mumbles into your skin. “Ain’t she, baby?”

Pushing himself back onto his knees, he slides a finger over your clothed cunt, eliciting a small gasp from you. Hooking his fingers under the elastic waistband of your cotton underwear, he yanks the fabric down your legs. It catches on your foot, your wetness smearing against the inside of your ankle.

You’re drenched.

“C’mere,” Joel grunts, sliding his hands under your ass and pulling your hips over his thighs. He leans over you once more, your bare, throbbing cunt rubbing against the crotch of his jeans. He tuts lightly into your neck as you buck against him. “Such a fuckin’ needy little girl.”

Desperate, you try rolling your hips into his. “Joel.”

“Kinda like it when y’say my name.” He starts making his way down the length of your body. “Think I’ll like it even better when you’re screamin’ it. Won’t I, baby?”

Your stomach tightens as he nibbles his way down your neck again, teeth scraping over your clavicle and down your chest to your heaving tits. Taking one in his hand, the other goes into his mouth—his tongue is scorching hot over your nipple. He licks the pebbled flesh, sucks it and bites it while he rolls the other peak in between his thumb and index finger. “Oh fuck,” you gasp.

Releasing your breast with a wet pop, Joel sinks further down your body. He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your tummy, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake. He stops over your mound and hovers for a fraction of a second before pressing his nose into the silky soft curls there. Inhaling deeply, Joel picks up the subtle, herbal scent of the lavender soap you had washed yourself with. “Fuck, y’smell so fuckin’ good.”

He pushes your thighs open, pinning one to the ground with his hand while the other goes over his shoulder. Your foot slides down his back, toes curling despite the fact that he hasn’t even reached the spot where you’re aching to have him most. Heart thundering, your blood rushes, roaring in your ears.

Joel turns his head, his lips brushing your inner thigh in another kiss. “S’this where y’want me, honey?” he asks you. Goosebumps erupt over every inch of your skin as he draws closer, his breath like steam on your core. He glances up at you, his cock twitching against his zipper at the sight of you laying naked before him on the floor of the forest. Willing. Wanting. “Hm? Right here?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”

Thankfully, you only have to ask him once, and then his face is buried between your legs, and he is giving you what you want.

“Fuck!” you cry out. Back arching, your head tilts back until the crown of it meets the ground, leaves and twigs finding their way into your clean hair.

Joel’s tongue flattens over your cunt in a broad stroke, then dips between your folds, collecting your slick with a harsh groan, one that sends a bone-rattling vibration throughout your entire body, from head to curled toes. His mouth opens wider—a starving, greedy man trying to eat you whole. Sliding his tongue over your clit, Joel seals his lips around it, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until it swells in his mouth.

High-pitched little cries and whines spill from your lips. Your hands shoot down, fingers tangling themselves in his dark, graying curls, eliciting a grunt from him when you tug at his roots. “Joel, fuck,” you choke, your nails scraping against his scalp. He slurps and swallows your wetness, the sounds drowning out those of the night—the chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs, the soft hooting of owls are washed away until all you can hear is him devouring your pussy.

Your body starts to tremble, and you know you’re close. Joel does, too. He feels your thighs twitch, threatening to close around his head, but he wrenches them further apart with a muffled but firm, “No.” He drapes his arm over your pelvis, his large hand splayed on your belly.

Relentless, he sucks your clit, gliding his tongue over it, again and again until the muscles in your lower tummy tighten and you burst at the seams, unraveling into his mouth. Warm slick gushes out of you, a sweet mess he licks clean. You choke back sobs of pleasure, your body tensing, vision blurring with every stroke of his tongue, each scrape of his teeth over your clit.

Joel lifts himself onto his knees with a grunt and gazes down at you—his good girl, sweet and pliant and ready to be fucked full of his cock. His hands slide his belt out of its brass buckle, eyes still trained on you as he pops the button of his jeans and yanks down his zipper.

Your mind is fuzzy, still syrupy and dripping—it doesn’t fully register what he’s doing, not until he climbs back over you and you his hard cock brushes your thigh, hot velvet that sears the inside of your leg. Precum smears your flesh.

“Y’feel that? Feel what you fuckin’ do to me?”

“Joel.” Hands shaking, you reach for the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin on yours. You whine when he catches both of your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. “Your clothes—”

“Stay on.” Ducking his head, he nips at your pulse point and mumbles, “Tell me what y’want, pretty girl.”

Joel shifts over you, his cock now resting on your lower belly, thick and heavy and leaking.

You squirm under him, hips coming off the ground, that hollow thing inside of you begging to be filled.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what y’want.”

“You, Joel—I want you. Please, please, please—”

He hushes you.

“I’ve you, baby. I’ve got you,” Joel promises. He wraps his other hand around himself, dragging the head of his cock along the seam of your puffy folds, up and down—he elicits a ragged little gasp from you when he grazes your clit and his fingers tighten around your wrists. He coats himself in your slippery slick until he’s glistening with it, and then he gives a slow roll of his hips, working himself into you.

Your mouth falls open. No words come out, no pleas for more—only jerky breaths, pathetic little pants for air as you take it.

Joel’s cock throbs, pulses like a heartbeat as your cunt welcomes him home. He presses his forehead to yours. “She’s always so fuckin’ sweet to me.” His voice is low, rough gravel. His eyes meet yours in the dark blue glow of the forest, and he savors the last moments of seeing your pretty face before the last traces of dusk are gone. Brushing his lips to the corner of your mouth, he feeds you his cock inch by inch, murmuring, “That’s it, honey. Good fuckin’ girl.”

You melt around him at his praise.

Releasing your wrists, he moves his hand, placing it on the crown of your head. “Ain’t ever lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he swears. “Alright? Never gonna be apart from me again, baby girl. Never. Y’understand me?” He curls his other hand firmly around your jaw, his fingers sticky with you and him. “Do you understand me?”

“Never,” you repeat, softly.

Joel kisses you, deep and slow, almost sweet. Tender. He breaks away, his lips hovering right over yours as he pushes his hips forward, bottoming out inside you.

Moaning, your hands grasp at his shoulders. Your legs widen further to accommodate the breadth of his hips.

“There y’go.” Joel presses deep within, until your belly feels hot and full. “That’s it, baby. Good girl,” he coos, drawing his hips back, then rolling them right back into you. He takes one of your ankles and tosses it over his shoulder, giving himself a better angle to fuck into you.

A loud cry tears from the back of your throat. “Joel!”

He grins in the darkness. He knew he’d like hearing you scream his name.

Joel’s hand settles on your leg that’s over his shoulder, your thigh already shaking. “Y’gonna be a real good girl n’ give me another one?”

You try to answer him, you really do, but your mind falls further and further away.

His fingertips sink into your thigh. He strokes in and out of you, never retreating more than inches at a time so he keeps you full. Stuffed. “Christ. Takin’ it so fuckin’ well,” he croons, moving your leg off of his shoulder so they are both wrapped around his waist. Hunching over you, he bears down hard, using most of his weight. He almost chuckles at the little oof that puffs out of you.

Rocks and twigs dig painfully into your back, but all you can do is feel him. How close he is.

You’re right there with him.

“Joel—fuck, I’m gonna co—”

You’re cut off by your own sharp gasp.

“That’s it. C’mon, honey.” Joel slips his hand between your thighs, his fingers firmly rubbing your clit. “C’mon, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cock—”

It rips through you like an electric current, a shockwave that has you clawing at the dirt. You come crying Joel’s name, crumbling into a whimpering, quivering mess.

Within seconds, he’s swept away by the same tide.

“Baby,” he groans, dropping his head into the hollow of your neck. He goes still and lets your tight cunt clench at him, gripping his cock as it throbs, pulses, empties into you. After a minute, he brushes a kiss to your neck before mumbling, “My sweet girl.”

Joel makes no move to pull out of you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your soiled fingers toy with the soft curls at the nape of his neck, shattered breaths slowing and piecing back together.

You gaze up through the trees at the night sky, feeling the safest you’ve ever been with the earth at your back and your whole world on top of you, his cock buried in your cunt.

Tess is right. Joel Miller really does have you fucked in the head.

You’re certain of it when you make the realization with a smile.

divider credit to @/saradika 🖤

for fic notifications please follow @joelsgreysupdates!

#why yes #i AM going to queue this to post when i am dead asleep #captive!joel #dark joel miller #dark! joel miller #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent #tw noncon #tw dark fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #fic: run

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drugsorgasmsandcheese · 9 months ago

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trouble | j. miller

fem!reader x mob!joel

summary: you don’t regret studying literature, not in the slightest. but there’s only so many times you can work in your local library and watch twelve year olds rush to the shitty dark romance books, and all for minimum wage.

and just when you think you lead a normal life, your grandparents are introducing you to a man who the devil would’ve worshipped. he is cold, he is dark, he’s sexy, and he’s offering you a job at one of his clubs.

joel miller is a dangerous man, that’s all you know. your grandparents seem to like him, but all your college friends tell you he is an omen of death. you don’t care, of course, because why would you when your hourly salary could buy you a house, and joel treats you like royalty despite your snarky mouth?

joel’s known trouble his entire life. he’s caused it, he created it, but he never quite knew it like he knew you. a shy woman with a killer attitude, so quick to humble the next person who dares make you a subject of their torment. he knew, he knew he’d have to keep you tucked away with him.

a life of luxury and a love you’ve never experienced was something you relished in. but can the world joel has known his entire life be something you can accept, or will you go running at the first chance?

warnings: MINORS DNI!!!!!! smut (HA), age gap (reader is in her 20s, joel is in his 40s), mob!joel 🫣, angst :), possessive behaviour, obsessive behaviour, violence, murder, arguments, reader HAD a rough home life, bad language cause i have a foul mouth yk? reader is a smartass and doesn’t understand social cues. pictures do NOT represent reader’s physical appearance & they do not belong to me. i think that’s it??

how it all started

SERIES

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three

HEADCANONS

a/n: *sigh* i did this to myself really…

but if you guys want to be added to the taglist, pls pls pls do tell!!

@dugiioh @amyispxnk @skysmiller @alyhull @noisynightmarepoetry @elliaze @dendulinka6 @zliteraturehoe @atyourmerci @al33naaa @mermaidgirl30 @lulawantmula @nana90azevedo @endlessthxxghts @getitoutofmymind@you-taste-so-sweet @blazeflays @iveseenstrangerthings50 @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @aquanatalie @katw474 @ludwigxii-blog@eloquentdreamer @kyloispunk @txmel @din-jarring @daddysmilf0123 @sofiparallel @dunkinzjm @runningmom94 @ashhlsstuff @moel-jiller @isimpforfictionalmen @drewharrisonwriter @stormseyer @rodriguez31 @elliesswearjar @vvitchesh3x @joeldjarin @untamedheart81 @ellishamae25 @pedropascalfan221 @mellymbee @pedritosgfreal @yassspose @casa-boiardi

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #mob!joel #mob boss!joel #joel miller au #joel miller series

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honeyedmiller · 8 months ago

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A Burning Desire part three

firefighter!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

rating: 18+, minors dni.

warnings: joel miller au, firefighter!joel, reader feels anxious for a bit, feelings, fluff, the miller brothers line dancing (that deserves its own warning bc whew... anyway), the cowboy hat rule!!!, slight smut (joel and reader get touchy and rub up on each other, making out, fingering), no use of y/n.

word count: 5.6k

synopsis: joel invites you over for a barbecue, and you end up unexpectedly meeting sarah while also rekindling with someone from your past. it isn’t until you talk about joel aloud to someone who isn’t your sister that you realize how deeply you feel for him.

a/n: thank u to @endlessthxxghts for letting me brainstorm about this chapter, and giving me the cowboy hat rule idea... ;)

You were nervous.

Nervous as hell.

The slightly anxious part of you wanted so desperately to back out of today’s plans, but you promised Joel you’d be at his place.

He was throwing a barbecue at his house and had invited you, and originally, Sarah wasn’t supposed to be there. Her friend got sick, so she ended up staying home.

You hadn’t known Joel for more than a month at this point, and the prospect of meeting his daughter and being introduced as the “woman he’s been dating but not quite his girlfriend” terrified you.

The last thing you wanted was for Sarah to dislike you, because you couldn’t bear the thought of the one person in Joel’s life who’s opinion mattered most to him not being very fond of you.

Joel said she’d been okay with him dating and only wanted to see him happy, but wasn’t it too soon? The last thing you wanted was to wedge yourself between the father-daughter duo.

Then again, your feelings for Joel had hit you full-force, and you were in it with him—for him. You’d cried to your sister over the phone about being scared of feeling things too fast, but she reassured you: if you know, you know.

Nobody has ever made you feel the way Joel makes you feel. Your thoughts may’ve been repetitive with what you felt, but that’s how you knew you were so sure about him. He was a breath of fresh air in a place full of smoke (no pun intended).

You were just worried what Sarah would think. Some might think it’s ridiculous to let a fourteen-year-old’s opinion matter so much in this circumstance, but that girl was Joel’s whole world. Her opinion of you mattered and could quite literally make or break your relationship with Joel.

You’d be devastated if it didn’t work out.

You nervously tapped on the steering wheel as you stopped at the last stop sign before turning onto Joel’s street.

The quaint neighborhood just outside of the city was chalk-full of cookie cutter homes, looking like it belonged in a friendly neighborhood magazine.

Several cars were parked in front of his house, but he’d texted you to park in his driveway beside his truck. It was sweet that he saved that spot for you. Another truck was parked in the driveway as well, and you assumed by default that it was Tommy’s.

You grabbed the tray of cookies out of the passenger seat after you’d gotten out and smoothed your sundress to straighten it out. Joel said everyone at the firehouse loved your cookies, especially him and Tommy, so you made them as a surprise to bring for a dessert option today.

Nerves coursed through your veins as you made your way up the front steps of his porch, ringing the doorbell. The chime went off in the house with a muffled “I’ll get it!” coming from the other side of the door.

A few seconds later, the door opened and you were met with a smiling Tommy.

“Hey there sweetheart, c’mon in.” He stepped aside and you thanked him as you entered the house. It was your first time over, so you took a second to take in your surroundings.

Many family photos clung neatly to the walls, the leather couches in the living room adorned with quilted blankets, an array of DVD’s scattered around the entertainment center, a well-worn but gorgeous coffee table that sat atop the huge area rug, and the mantle above the fireplace full of trinkets from past trips and a few of Sarah’s soccer trophies.

You smiled as you took in the scene before you, really admiring how cozy the home looked. It looked lived in and well loved, and it was all very much Joel. Simple, yet homey and functional.

“Ooh, are those the same cookies you made for us back at the firehouse?” Tommy motions to the tray in your hand, bringing you back to present time.

“They are. Thought I’d surprise you and Joel with these again.” You laugh as Tommy’s eyes light up, leading you to the kitchen.

“Don’t blame me if these are all gone by the end of the night. You should give your recipe to Sarah. She loves to bake.” He groans as he takes a cookie from the tray, biting into it.

You have to stifle a laugh at his genuine reaction. You knew your cookies were decent, but not as good as the Miller brothers made them out to be.

“Speaking of, where’s your counterpart?” You teasingly ask, too shy to go into the backyard and introduce yourself to the array of people chatting and having a good time.

You didn’t do too well in new settings, so it would take you a little while to warm up.

“Ah, he’s cookin’ on the grill.” Tommy jerks his head toward the sliding glass door that leads out the backyard, and you follow in his footsteps as you walk up to the main man of the gathering.

“Oh Jooooeeellll,” Tommy calls out with you in tow, “Found your girlfriend for ya.” He teases, and your heart skips a beat at that. You’re just dating the man. It wasn’t anything official yet, and somehow it just seemed so fitting.

Joel didn’t correct Tommy either, which you took note of as his gaze averted to yours. A smile immediately spread onto his lips and he pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead. You took a second to study the contrast of his tan skin against the white linen shirt he was wearing with the first few buttons undone, and the Raybans that sat comfortably on his face. You held in a groan, because fuck he looked so good, once again. Does this man ever look bad?

“Hey baby.”

Your face heats at the public display of affection, but it dawned on you that he was never trying to hide you or keep you a mystery like you were doing to him.

Well, your sister knew about him of course, but everyone else in your family didn’t have the faintest idea. They were too overbearing sometimes, and you wanted to be official with Joel before you even said a word to anyone about him.

“Hi handsome. I brought some cookies but left them inside. Thought I could surprise you again with them.” You grin at him, and he smiles as he pulls you into his side.

“I’m gonna let you two lovebirds have a moment to yourselves. Gonna go find my lady and introduce you to her.” Tommy pretends to tip an invisible cowboy hat and sends a wink your way. You huff a laugh and shake your head at his wit.

“He always that charismatic?” You question, and Joel laughs.

“It’s even worse when he’s drunk.” He rolls his eyes, and you bury your smile in his bicep. You wrap your arm around his back as you watch him work the grill, flipping hamburgers and chicken that are seasoned to perfection.

“‘M glad you could make it today, darlin’. Was startin’ to miss ya real bad. Those twenty four hour shifts kick my ass, I tell ya.” He sighs and gives your body a light, playful shake.

“Of course, Joel. I missed you too.” You gave his shoulder a kiss before Tommy called your name to avert your attention to him. Your eyes flit to the woman he has his arm wrapped around, and your eyes widen in shock.

“This is my girl–”

“Maria?” You interrupt Tommy, and her smile spreads wide.

“Oh my god! Hey you! How long has it been?” She’s laughing as you two embrace each other while the Miller brothers give each other a confused glance.

“Four years I think? How are you?” You grin, separating from her, holding onto her forearms.

“Wow I can’t believe it’s been that long. I’m great! Just dealing with this guy over here,” She juts her chin over to Tommy, and his eyes flicker between you two.

“Sooo you two know each other?” He asks, and you both laugh in unison.

“We used to work together at the same company. Our cubicles were across from each other.” Maria explains, and you nod along.

“Well I’ll be damned. Small world!” Tommy grins, patting Joel on the back harshly. Joel glares at his brother and rolls his eyes, turning back to the grill to take the food off and place it into the foil pans next to him.

“Dad, is the food done yet? You hear a voice call, and you stiffen up immediately. Maria notices your change in demeanor and gives your arm a squeeze of reassurance, which you exchange for a weak smile.

A curly-haired girl with bright green eyes comes into view. He turns to look at her and nods, motioning to the foil pans.

“Lemme fix you up a plate. But first, I want you to meet someone.” He says, and he holds his hand out to you. Maria releases your arm so you can step forward and grab Joel’s hand, and Sarah’s bright green eyes meet your gaze.

“This is the woman I’ve been datin’. Darlin’, this is my daughter Sarah.”

You extend your hand to her with a sincere smile, hoping she didn’t pick up on your nerves.

“Ah, so you’re the woman my dad can’t stop talking about!” She laughs, flashing you her gorgeous smile.

“Oh really?” You quirk an eyebrow up and look at Joel, nudging him playfully.

He raises his hands in defense, “Guilty as charged.” You huff a laugh at Joel and shift your gaze back to Sarah.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you as well.”

“Do you mind if I steal her for a second, dad?” Sarah asks, and you can’t help but feel extremely anxious. You genuinely don’t think a fourteen year old has ever made you so frazzled with nerves like this before.

You follow her to the lounge chairs by the pool, taking a seat across the one she sat in.

She slaps her thighs with her hands, a small smile evading her lips.

“So,” She starts, seemingly collecting her thoughts. “This isn’t some ‘what are your intentions with my dad’ intervention, I promise. But, like, I really hope you’re serious about him.” She looks at you with apprehension in her eyes, and you’re a bit taken aback by her words.

You could’ve guessed this was coming. Judging from what Joel has told you about their relationship, it was only fitting that she’d be so protective of him.

“I’ve seen him get hurt before. Not just by what my mother did, but with other women, too. I honestly think you’re the first woman who didn’t skip out on him after finding out he has a kid.”

“That would never make me run. Your bond with your father is something that’s so strong, and I would never want to come between that. I can promise you that your dad has a better chance at breaking my heart than I do breaking his.”

“He won’t. He’s a good man and he deserves someone kindhearted like you. I can tell you are. I’m glad you two found each other. I haven’t seen him this happy and relaxed in… a long time.” Sarah laughs, and you can’t help but smile at her admission.

“I pinky promise I’ll treat him great. He’s a real special guy, and I like him a lot.” You hold your pinky out to her, and with a beaming smile, she hooks her pinky with yours and gives it a little shake.

“I know. It’s just nice to finally see him getting his feelings reciprocated back to him. Most women only romanticize the uniform he wears and not the person he actually is.”

“Well, I gotta say, they all definitely missed out on an amazing man.” And part of you was thankful for that, which is something you didn’t want to admit aloud.

Because if it weren’t for those women in his past that didn’t work out with him, you would’ve never had a chance with him. You glance over at Joel, and he was chatting with some other guests. You couldn’t help admire him and his calm, happy demeanor.

As if he senses you looking, he turns his head in your direction to meet your gaze and winks. You offer him a soft smile before turning back to Sarah.

“They are, but something tells me you’re here to stay. Not saying that to like, I don’t know, scare you off or anything, but you and him really do make a nice couple.”

“Actually,” You huff a laugh and glance over at him once more, “He hasn’t asked me to be official or anything yet. I am here for the long haul, though, and I want you to know that I respect you and your relationship with your dad. I wouldn’t ever want to overstep any boundaries.”

Sarah groans and huffs, rolling her eyes as she looks over at Joel. “This man, I swear. Want me to yell at him for you?” The mischievous glint in her eye tells you she would actually do so.

You shake your head with a laugh, and she puts her hand on your shoulder as she leans forward.

“Also, you don’t need to worry about overstepping. It’s… nice having someone else around. I appreciate you saying you respect our relationship, though. Dad was always apprehensive about bringing women over because my opinion means so much to him. You’ve got my approval in the bag, though.”

“I appreciate that, Sarah. I’m sorry if meeting me was too soon or awkward for you. I wasn’t expecting to exchange pleasantries today.” She grins and waves her hand between your bodies at your words.

“Nonsense. I’ve been pretty excited to meet you, seeing as you have my dad crushing like a teenage boy again. I just want him to be happy, and I know he is with you.” She throws her arm over your shoulders, and you immediately reciprocate the hug.

Admitting to Sarah that you were in this for the long haul even shocked you. It’s not that you didn’t want to be, but your love life in the past hasn’t exactly been to your liking. Joel is different, though, and seeing that he has people in his corner who love and care about him tells you that they’d go to great lengths to protect him.

It was crystal clear that both of you wanted whatever was going on between you two. You were apprehensive to put your all into it.

You’ve been known to pull back when things got serious. It was a defense mechanism to protect your heart and peace.

You knew you were falling, but the million dollar question still remained: would Joel catch you?

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Sarah separated herself from you.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” She says, and she coaxes you to follow her back to the grill where Joel and Tommy stood.

“Everythin’ good?” Joel asks, slinging his arm around your shoulder. You nod and offer him a smile.

You were about to go after you plated your food, but Joel shook his head and gently pulled you back to him.

“Uh uh, where you goin’?” He has a goofy grin on his lips as he pulls you in, giving you a kiss. You can’t help but laugh against his lips and gently push him away.

“There’s people here, Joel!” You playfully tsk, and he squints his eyes.

“What, I can’t kiss my girl?”

My girl. The phrase made butterflies swirl in your stomach and heat to rise to your face.

“Never said that, but technically, I’m not your girl yet.” You quirk an eyebrow at him.

Tommy laughs and nudges Joel, “Damn brother, you haven’t asked her to be official yet? Hell’s wrong with ya? Hop to it!”

“Coming from someone who didn’t settle down until like a year ago. Shut up you little shit.” Joel huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Was watin’ for the right one! Then this beauty changed my life in the best way possible and put me in my place,” Tommy pulls Maria into his side, kissing her cheek. She rolls her eyes and nudges him playfully, walking back into the house before Tommy points at you. “‘N this missy right here is gonna do the exact same for ya. Don’t be ‘fraid to put him in his place, sweetheart, he needs it.” Tommy howls with laughter as Joel glares at him.

“So fuckin’ dramatic.” Joel mumbles under his breath.

“So what, you don’t want me to put you in your place?” You’re enjoying seeing him squirm a little as your hand traces circles over the white linen that clings to his back.

“Nah, it ain’t that. You can put me in my place anytime, baby.” He winks, and you immediately pick up on the innuendo behind his voice.

“You’re fighting with fire, Mr. Miller.” You murmur to him, and his hand moves down to your ass to give it a subtle, playful squeeze.

“‘S my job, baby.”

“Don’t think this is one you can put out.” You wink at him before walking away to join Maria in the house.

“Okay, you have to tell me everything,” Maria situates herself on the couch with a glass of wine. You sit down next to her and tuck your legs under yourself, smoothing your dress out before leaning your head on your fist. “How in the world did you and Joel become a thing? What happened to that one guy that you used to tell me about?”

You laugh at her enthusiasm toward your love life, inhaling a deep breath before diving into the story about your shitty ex and all the stupid trust issues he gave you. He really did a number on you, which is why you were so content with being single and thriving. You told Maria that you kept your guard up to protect yourself and your heart, because the last thing you wanted was to give your all to someone once again, only to be burned. Maria put her hand on your knee as a reassuring smile spread across her lips.

“Honey, I can promise you that that man standing out there has it bad for you. Doesn’t matter how long you’ve been seeing each other. I can see it in the way he looks at you,” Your gaze trails out to the backyard as Joel sips on a beer, talking with Tommy and a few others who you presume are the neighbors before Maria’s voice pulls your attention back to her, “Joel is a good man, and despite the way you both have been hurt in the past, you still both found each other and gave this,” She waves her hands to gesture between you and him, “A chance. Lord knows that man could use a good woman like you in his life.”

You felt the sting behind your eyes immediately. Maria’s words were nothing short of assuring, and she smiles as you wipe your tears with a small laugh.

“Baby, just because you finally got the flame on your candle to burn bright again, doesn’t mean he’s going to dim yours. His is finally strong on its own, too. I know that you’re so independent and you’ve been used to it for some time now, but let his flame make yours even stronger. You can be stronger together.”

And you knew she was right. The clarity blindsided you, but you got your answer: Joel would one hundred percent, undoubtedly catch you.

A few hours later, the sun had started to set and the neighbors went back to their respective homes, leaving you, Maria, Tommy, Joel and Sarah left. You and Maria insisted you help clean up even though Joel and Tommy both told you it wasn’t necessary. You both waved them off and got everything put away and washed in less than an hour.

Maria refilled her glass of wine as you poured yourself one and both went to settle back onto the couch, Joel and Tommy in tow. Sarah came running down the stairs and up to Joel, a pleading look strewn across her features.

“Kelly invited me over to a night swim and slumber party. Can I go? Please?” She had a hopeful look as she clasped her hands together to shake them, silently begging Joel to say yes.

“I thought she was sick?” He asked, running his hands over the stubble on his chin.

“No dad, Sasha is the one that’s sick.”

You tried to stifle a laugh at her ‘duh’ tone, so you just bit your lip and stared at him. He sighed and looked at you, his demeanor changing in the slightest.

“Sure, but please check in with me every few hours or so. Do I need to drop you off?” He asks, resting his beer bottle on his thigh.

“Thank you!” She throws her arms around him, and he grunts as he returns the hug. “No, Kelly’s mom offered to pick me up. She can drop me back off tomorrow, too.” She says, and before Joel can get another word in, she rushes back upstairs.

Joel sighs as he leans back into the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Teenagers.” He grumbles, taking a swig of his beer. You pat his thigh and lean into him, giving him a smile.

“Well now that it’s just goin’ to be adults, why don’t we get the real party started,” Tommy wiggles his brows, and all three of you look at him in confusion. “‘S a joke, people. Sheesh. How ‘bout some music, though.” He connects his phone to the speaker sitting on one of the shelves, playing a mix of late 90’s and country music.

Joel finds himself leaning into you as one of his hands slips below the hem of your dress, drawing circles into the skin of your thigh. His touch sends a shiver down your spine and he looks at you with a quirked brow, clearly pleased with your reaction to his touch.

You got turned on so easily now. It wasn’t fair. Just one look alone from the older Miller brother could have your panties around your ankles in milliseconds, and you truly weren’t above begging him to touch you.

The smug smirk on his face told you he knew it, too, but you both agreed to take things slow. You couldn’t even remember why you agreed to such a thing, because the tension between you two had been through the roof since your date at the fair. You truly didn’t know how much self restraint you had.

Maria’s laugh had ripped through your thoughts, earning your undivided attention.

“No way. I don’t believe you.” She says, laughing at Tommy.

“‘S true! Joel and I are a couple ‘a Austin’s finest line dancers.” Tommy shrugs, looking over at Joel.

“Those days are long over, brother.” Joel groans, leaning his head back onto the couch.

“Bullshit. Betcha still know how to dance to Brooks & Dunn.”

“Even if I did—”

“C’mon cowboy, show us what you got.” You tease, and Joel shakes his head.

“Mm mm. Won’t do it unless you ladies do it with us.” He negotiates, and your eyes flit to Maria who smiles upside down and shrugs her shoulders.

“Wouldn’t hurt to learn.” She says, and you nod in agreement.

“It’s settled then.” Tommy slaps his thighs, standing up and offering his hand to Maria. Tommy tosses Joel his Stetson off of the coat rack which Joel catches with ease, putting it onto his head as he grins at you, offering his hand to help you stand up.

“Hey dad! Kelly’s mom is here– oh god, are you and Uncle Tommy line dancing again?” She groans, and Joel holds his hands up in defense.

“Uncle Tommy coaxed me into it and these lovely ladies here wanna learn. Not my fault.”

Sarah rolls her eyes and looks between you and Maria. “Good luck with these two knuckleheads. It was nice to meet you!” She says as she heads for the door.

“You too!” You call back.

“Text me when you get there, please.” Joel calls out to her, and she says ‘kay!’ before the front door shuts behind her. Tommy plays the familiar tune of Boot Scootin’ Boogie, and Joel stands next to him before they start to dance in sync. They both hold on to the front of the waistbands of their pants where their belts would presumably be as their footwork syncs up perfectly.

You and Maria watch in awe as they move together effortlessly, mentally noting the moves they’re repeating. Maria nudges you and you look at her with a shit-eating grin on your face.

“Girl, are you seeing this? Got damn near ten degrees hotter in here just watching my man dance.”

“Tell me about it. If Joel and I weren’t taking it slow, I’d probably jump his bones right now.”

“More power to you. I couldn’t do that even if I tried my damndest.”

“Trust me, it’s hard. Especially when he looks like… that.” You stare at Joel as he lets the familiar movements flow through his bones, dancing on beat to the upbeat song. He looks at you and shoots you a wink, making you bite your lip to hide your smile.

“C’mon ladies.” Tommy waves you both over, and you both join in with them. It takes a couple of tries to sync up with Joel, but you’re eventually moving with him. He takes your hand and spins you, pulling you into him as he presses you flush against his chest.

You smirk at him and pluck his Stetson off of his head, putting it onto yours. Joel moves his hand to the small of your back, causing you to practically grind into him while you dance. You bite your lip and bat your lashes as you can feel the tension in Joel’s body that desperately needs relief. He shakes his head with a chuckle, leaning in as his lips brush your ear.

“Ever heard of the cowboy hat rule, baby?” His voice is raspy and low. He noses at your jawline before leaving a kiss below your ear, pulling his face back into your view.

You shake your head no, and as the song ends, he gives Tommy a look before intertwining your hand with his to lead you upstairs.

“Joel—” You start, but as soon as you step into his bedroom, he closes the door and locks it. He cages you in between both of his strong arms, hands resting on either side of your head as he pops his knee out. It’s dangerously close to your aching cunt, and if you moved forward just a bit, you could easily grind yourself onto him.

The thought was tempting but your mind went blank, the close proximity between you both making your head spin.

“The cowboy hat rule,” He starts, leaning down to kiss your neck, “Is when a lady takes a man’s cowboy hat off of his head n’ puts it on herself. Means that the lady wants to be with the man and essentially wants to do more with him.”

“M-more?” Your breath catches in your throat as his hot tongue glides over the warmth of your neck. You’re beginning to pant harder, hands twitching at your sides, aching to touch him.

“Mhm.” He slots his thigh between your legs, and you can’t help the soft moan that bubbles in your throat at the delicious friction.

“Had a whole romantic thing planned in my head on how to ask you to be my girl, but fuck baby, I can’t wait no more. I know it ain’t been long, but I really want you to be mine. ‘N I sure would love to be your man.”

Your brain starts to function a little better, so you bring your hands up to cup his face. You can’t help the grin that spreads on your lips, Joel mirroring you.

“Don’t need fancy. Just need you, baby. I’d love to be yours, Joel.”

And he steals a searing kiss from you, arms wrapping around you as he moves you both backwards toward his bed. He takes his hat off of your head before setting it on his dresser, sitting down on his bed as you follow suit and straddle him. His hands hold onto your thighs, teasing you as they move underneath the hemline of your dress.

His lips separate from yours and he buries his face into your neck, kissing and licking your soft flesh as he grabs a handful of your ass. You can’t help but grind yourself into him like last time, the carnal desire for him shredding through you as your self-restraint dwindles down to nearly nothing.

“I-I know we said slow, but baby, can I touch you?” He asks, and you fervently nod your head. Your thoughts were so jumbled that you couldn’t be bothered to form a coherent response. Your senses were all-consumed by this man under you—your boyfriend. You smile at the thought before your jaw goes slack when his hand moves your underwear to the side, fingers sliding through your slick folds.

You bite your lip to stifle the whine that shoots through your chest, heart leaping into your throat. You knew it wouldn’t take much for you to come undone if Joel kept teasing you the way he did.

“Shit, baby, you’re so fuckin’ wet. This all for me, pretty girl?” He asks, his Southern drawl as thick as honey, darkened eyes meeting yours.

“Yes.” You cry, rutting your hips against his fingers.

“Can I?” He asks, prodding the tip of his fingers at your entrance. You nod once again, gripping onto his shoulders as you begin to leave kisses across his neck and collarbone. He slides a finger down to the knuckle in you effortlessly, and you can’t help but nip at his neck as the sensation courses through your body.

His one finger alone could reach places yours never could, and it made you dizzy. He slipped another finger into you, the stretch stinging in the slightest as you rocked onto his hand.

“So fuckin’ tight, baby. There you go.” Joel guides you as he begins to move his own fingers, curling them in your warmth. He was hitting that spot that you could barely ever reach, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your head fell back, panting his name repeatedly as you felt the coil already tightening in your core.

“So fuckin’ pretty, hm? My girl is so gorgeous like this, gettin’ herself off on my fingers. Look like a fuckin’ angel, darlin’. Such a good girl.” Joel praises you, and your head snaps up as your eyes meet his. He has a devilish smirk on his lips as you thread your fingers through his curls, smashing your lips to his. He groans into the kiss and picks up the pace of his fingers, your arousal now dripping down to his wrist. He felt your pussy clench around his digits, and he was coaxing you to come undone.

“That’s it baby. Can feel ya, I know you wanna cum. Give it t’me.” He says, and he swallows your moans in a kiss as the band snaps in your core, body convulsing as you ride out your orgasm.

You’re breathless as you slump against him, kissing his neck repeatedly as you try and catch your breath.

He slowly slides his fingers out of you and you moan at the loss of fullness, gaze meeting his once again. He slips his fingers coated in your arousal into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as he tastes you. He leans in to kiss you, and you can easily taste yourself on his tongue.

“So fuckin’ sweet. Can I taste all of ya?” He asks, and you don’t even think twice before you nod. He flips you around onto the bed, kneeling onto the floor as he hooks both of his fingers into the waistband of your panties. You’re about to lift your hips so he can slide them off of you when a sharp knock on his door sounds.

He groans and sits on his haunches, forehead falling onto your thigh. You giggle and sit up, running your hands through his curls.

“What, Tommy?” Joel calls out, and Tommy laughs on the other side of the door.

“Jus’ lettin’ ya know Maria ‘n I are gonna stay in the guest bedroom. The hell are you doin’ in there?”

Joel gets up with a grunt and stalks toward his bedroom door, unlocking it before swinging it open.

“None of your goddamn business. That’s what.” Joel rolls his eyes, and Tommy raises his hands in defense.

“Shit, my bad!” He looks past Joel and winks at you, and your face heats up immediately.

“You have five seconds to get out of my face before I beat your ass. Fuckin’ cockblock.” Joel grumbles, glaring at his brother.

“Fair. Carry on. Wrap it before you tap it!” He turns on his heel and trudges down the stairs, and Joel turns back around to look at you, face beet red.

“Ignore him.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Noted,” You pat the spot next to you and he rejoins you on the bed. “Now where were we?”

tags: @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @endlessthxxghts ; @punkshort ; @pamasaur ; @clawdee ; @pascalpvnk ; @bensonispunk ; @merz-8 ; @darkblue-tennesseee ; @buckyispunk ; @untamedheart81 ; @picketniffler ; @fluffygoffpanda ; @paleidiot ; @typewriter83 ; @lizzie-cakes ; @sawymredfox ; @keylimebeag ; @nandan11 ; @pedropascalsbbg ; @pimosworld ; @yxtkiwiyxt ; @anoverwhelmingdin

divider by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagines #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller au #firefighter!joel #firefighter!joel miller #joel miller smut #fic: a burning desire

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tightjeansjavi · 6 months ago

Text

The Rite of Movement | part eight

“you are the rite of movement”

A/N: wow so this is officially the longest chapter of TROM yet! I suggest you get your vibrators, dildos in check + tissues because baby love, you’re gonna need them! 😭 thank you to my sweet L @endlessthxxghts for betaing this chapter and screaming at me in Google docs over how much you love these characters! It seriously warms my heart 🥹

~word count: 11.8k~

Summary: After jokingly telling Joel that you think that Tommy may have him beat in the pussy eating department, you’re eating your words immediately. It’s a night filled with firsts and of course, lots of orgasms.

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader x pornstar!tommy

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, dom/sub vibes (heavy on the dom in this chapter) degradation kink, oral f! & male receiving, unprotected piv, denial of orgasm, edging, overstimulation, squirting, daddy kink, praise kink, aftercare, mentions of food, sexual trauma (not done by Joel), mentions of the porn industry, threesome (Joel and Tommy do not touch don’t make it weird pls) there’s a lot of vulnerable and intense sexual moments between Joel and baby love but there is immediate communication after and breaks in between, consent, intimacy, established relationship, Joel is in his 40’s, reader is in her 30’s, coming out, biphobia and aromantic phobia in the queer community, language, pet names, readers nickname is baby love, +18 minors dni!

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The tension in the room immediately sparked back up from the words you so innocently and breathlessly uttered. The Miller brother’s briefly made eye contact at your admittance and they too could sense the fast rising tension.

Joel’s lips hovered above yours, just barely touching. He held fierce eye contact with you, brow cocked in an almost condescending fashion, “you didn’t mean that, right baby love? M’sure you didn’t, sweet girl.” He rasped, dragging his thumb against your plush, lower lip, pressing down on it gently, “cus’ we’d have a bit of a problem on our hands if ya meant it.”

“We certainly would.” Tommy chuckled.

“Mean what?” You feigned innocence, leaning in to kiss him, but he was playing hard to get.

“You know exactly what you said, baby love. You really think Tommy can eat your pussy better than I can?”

Oh fuck.

“He did a pretty good job, daddy. He might have you beat…”

He clicked his skillful tongue against the roof of his mouth, letting his hand dip from your face and settle around the base of your throat like a necklace, “baby love…” he warned you, “I’d be careful with what you’re sayin.’”

You giggled softly, “why, daddy? You gonna get jealous if I think Tommy is better?”

“Jus’ might.” He grumbled.

“Well, I see there being only one way to determine who’s the better pussy eater.” Tommy chimed in.

You tore your gaze from Joel’s face over to Tommy’s smirking one, “what way would that be exactly?”

“Oh, just a little friendly pussy eatin’ competition. Winner gets to fuck you first.”

Joel fought the urge to scoff at his brother's suggestion. “Yeah, well, you’re at an unfair advantage cus’ of my bad back and all that. Ain’t gonna be able to kick your ass if we’re doin’ this right here, right now.”

Now the attention was turned directly back to you. Two pairs of dark brown eyes locked on your face. “I like your thinking, Tommy. Why don’t you both take me upstairs? That way Joel has a fair advantage.”

“Aw, well ain’t that sweet! Babygirl wants to make sure you get a fair advantage with your old man back. Now, if that ain’t true love, I don’t know what is!”

“Shut up, Tommy. I ain’t that old.” Joel grumbled, leaning in to brush his nose right below your pulse point. “S’that what you want, baby love? Want me and Tommy to eat your sweet little pussy and you decide who’s better at it?”

You swallowed hard, taking a sharp inhale of breath when he pressed a kiss against your pulse point, nipping it gently with his teeth. “Yeah, daddy. I want that.”

“Good girl.” He murmured against your skin, blindly reaching down to tuck himself back into his shorts.

Your legs felt like jello when Joel and Tommy stood on either side of you, helping you up from the chair. Tommy pressed a kiss to your cheek, letting it linger for a moment before he headed up the stairs first. Joel stayed back with you, bending down to grab your discarded shorts and panties. “You won’t be needin’ these for the rest of the evening, unless you wanna take a little break?” He was studying your face intently, leaning over to kiss your forehead.

“I’m okay, baby. Thank you for checking in on me. Think I’m just gonna get a glass of water. Would you like one?” You draped your arms around his middle, hugging him loosely.

“Of course, baby love. Gotta make sure my girl is enjoying herself, after all. I’d love a glass of water. I’ll pack up the leftovers real quick and then we’ll head upstairs?”

“Oh, she’s enjoying herself plenty. Dream come true, honestly.” You kissed his cheek then, dropping your arms from around his middle. But before you could slip away, he was pulling you right back in and kissing you sweetly.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” He was, truly. With past partners, both in the industry and out, there was a level of acting that Joel would find himself partaking in. Sometimes it felt genuine and natural, other times he felt awkward, but not necessarily forced. With you, there was no second guessing, no nerves or apprehension. He was simply acting upon his feelings.

After Joel finished putting away the leftovers and you grabbed yourself and him a glass of water, he followed you up the stairs, fingers playfully tickling your sides, eliciting soft giggles to slip past your lips.

Tommy had made himself comfortable on the couch pushed up against the wall while he was scrolling through his socials. He sat up at the sound of yours and Joel’s voices echoing up the stairs. “Damn. S’about time! Thought y’all were gettin’ busy down there.” He tossed his phone to the side of the couch, hopping up enthusiastically.

You made your way over to the bed, flopping down on your back, wasting no time to rid yourself of your flimsy tank top and tossed it to the side. Now you were completely naked, thighs spreading open, knees bending at a relaxed angle while your hand slowly dipped down between your parted thighs, dragging your fingers through your slick folds, gathering up the pearlescent fluid from your prior orgasm and spread it languidly around your clit with a soft, content hum. “So, which one of you boys wants to have a taste first?”

Tommy was already making his way towards the bed before Joel stopped him, giving him a firm shove with his shoulder. “You’ve had your fill.” He nearly growled, eyes set in a challenging stare, “move the fuck outta my way.”

Tommy retreated very much like a submissive dog with its tails between his legs. He held his hands up, taking a few steps back from the bed. “Someone is a little antsy.” He muttered under his breath.

Joel didn’t even hear Tommy muttering, he was zoned in on you completely as he peeled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side with yours. One big hand dropped between your thighs and lightly slapped your hand away, eyes narrowing on your surprised face. “Did I fuckin’ say that you could touch yourself, baby love? Actin’ like such a needy little slut for daddy, ain’t ya?” He pressed his thumb directly against your clit, rubbing the little nub in slow circles.

“I’m sorry—daddy.” You squeaked out, leaning back on your elbows for support. “Are you angry with me?”

“No, baby, course not. Jus’ think you’re a bad girl for sayin’ that Tommy can eat your pussy better than I can. Think m’gonna have you eatin’ those words right up in a few minutes.” He exudes confidence, making it very clear who is in charge here. And god, does that make you drip along the sheets with want.

“Are you sure you’re not upset with me, daddy? Because if you are…I think you should punish me, and Tommy films it.”

“Bet your slutty little pussy would love a good punishing, huh baby love? S’that what she wants?” He didn’t wait for you to respond as he leaned down, spitting a glob of saliva right over your clit, smearing it in with his thumb. “Bad girls don’t get what they fuckin’ want, baby.”

You mewled softly, thighs falling open further till you felt his calloused palms halt your movements entirely, he grasped the outside of your thighs, pushing them towards your chest. “Grab onto those for me and don’t let ‘em go.” He rasped.

You did as you were told, grabbing onto the underside of your thighs and kept your knees pressed against your chest.

“Good girl.” He preened, “how do you feel about us filmin’ this, baby love? You want that?”

“Fuck, yes, please daddy.” You didn’t even take a second to think through your answer. It was an immediate and eager yes.

He snapped his fingers, glancing over his shoulder at his brother. “Make yourself useful and grab my camera off the charger, Tommy.”

Tommy muttered something unintelligible under his breath, fighting the urge to flick his brother off as he went to grab the camera. He situated himself alongside Joel, turning the camera on and wasted no time to zoom in between your thighs just as a drool of slick dripped down from your hole.

“See that? She’s drippin’ for me. That ain’t for you.” Joel snarked.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see how long that lasts.” Tommy quipped back.

The rules to the competition were simple, whoever made you cum first with just their mouths alone, would get to fuck you first. No hands, no toys, just some good ole fashion pussy eating. Joel did already have an advantage considering he knew your body like it was the back of his hand, but that didn’t rule Tommy out completely.

The prospect of the two Miller brothers beefing over you had you giggling at their competitive nature, but when you felt Joel drag his tongue from your hole and up your slit to your clit, your giggles quickly turned to soft moans. Unlike Tommy, Joel liked to take his time savoring you on his tongue. He suckled your clit between his lips, dark brown eyes peering up at you between thick lashes. He gently rolled the nub between his teeth, the sensation sent your eyes rolling back into your skull, a broken cry breaching your parted lips.

“Those are the sounds I fuckin’ love to hear from ya, baby love.” He murmured against your mound, pulling his face back to spit on your clit again, “can’t wait to fuck your sweet little needy pussy when I’m finished with ya.”

You clenched from his words, lips moving, but no coherent words left your mouth. Of course once he was really getting into it, Tommy got impatient, pushing Joel out of the way in a similar fashion that was done to him.

“My turn.” He nearly snapped as he placed the camera in Joel’s hands. “Drop your thighs for me babygirl, and spread ‘em nice and wide.” He wrapped his arms around your middle, big hands splayed across your stomach to keep you pinned down in his hold. He shot you a wink between your thighs before he got to work, using his tongue to fuck your little hole before dragging it up to your clit, flicking it at a faster pace than his brother.

When Joel felt like Tommy had enough, he forced his way right back in, pushing his brother out of the way and this time the camera ended up in your hands where you shakily filmed from your own POV while Joel brought one of your thighs over his shoulder for easier access. His mouth was becoming more aggressive, your sharp cries alerting him that you were close and he could nearly taste his victory on the horizon. This time, Tommy had nearly shoved Joel off the bed completely resulting in the two men to snap at one another between your thighs like two feral dogs fighting over a piece of meat.

The sight alone had you seeing stars behind your eyes. You let out a surprised yelp when Joel had manhandled you onto your stomach, causing you to nearly drop the camera when he pried your thighs apart with his thick fingers and buried his face between them. The slurping sounds his mouth was making was nothing short of obscene as he shook his head back and forth, his beard scraped against your inner thighs as you arched your back and ass into his face.

“O—oh fuck! Joel! FUCK!” You cried out, thighs beginning to tremble and quiver, the coil in your stomach was pulled impossibly tight and threatening to snap at any given moment.

“That’s it, baby love. Good fuckin’ girl. Want you to come all over daddy’s face. You know who the winner is, sweet girl. It’s your fuckin’ daddy.” He growled possessively against your pussy as you rocked your hips back against his face.

He pulled back from between your thighs with a triumphant smirk plastered on his face at the sight of your release slowly dripping from your hole and down the inside of your thigh. He reached around for the camera, gently removing it from your hands and brought it up close to your leaking pussy, “fuckin’ look at that. Drippin’ all over the goddamn sheets, baby love.” He preened.

“Guess I shoulda thought about eating her out from behind before you did, huh brother?” Tommy snorted alongside him, leaning over to grab both of your cheeks and spread them open so they both could see your pussy slowly pulse and push out another trail of slick.

“I—I need a minute.” You breathed out and slowly let your stomach come to rest along the comforter as you caught your breath, letting your eyes flutter shut.

Joel flipped the camera off, setting it off to the side of the bed before he crawled up alongside you, Tommy settled in behind you while Joel gently lifted your face from the comforter to rest it along his lap. He stroked your cheek with the back of his knuckles while Tommy was nuzzling his face against the nape of your neck, pressing a few kisses to your skin while his hand curved around your ass, gently massaging the plump flesh between his fingers.

“That—that was something.” You finally spoke again, glancing up at Joel while his fingers were now giving your head a gentle massage, blunt nails scratching at your scalp in a soothing motion.

“We know, baby love. You did so good for us.” Joel cooed, “We don’t have to do anything else tonight if you just wanna rest.”

“No—no. I want you both to fuck me.” You shook your head, curling your fingers around his bare knee, “and the rules were that whoever makes me cum first gets to fuck me first. So, daddy. What are you waiting for?”

“Mmm.” He hummed, “baby love, you’re truly jus’ the sweetest thing. Ain’t she, Tommy?”

“Mhm” Tommy rumbled behind you, his fingers had slipped down between your cheeks, gently gliding his fingers through your slick folds to keep you stimulated. “She sure is a sweet thing.”

“How about you give him a little bit of sugar while daddy goes and sets up the cameras. How’s that sound, baby love? I bet he would love it if you sucked his cock. Give him a little bit of lovin.’”

You lazily grinned up at him before slowly sitting up and glanced over your shoulder at Tommy. “You were a close second.” You reassured him and reached behind you to palm him through his shorts, “Joel’s right, you deserve a little bit of sugar, too.”

“Thanks, babygirl, but Joel had me beat from the start.” He chuckled, “M’never one to turn down receiving a bit of sugar.” He grinned, shooting you a playful wink as he slipped his hand out from between your thighs and rolled over onto his back to shimmy his shorts down over his hips.

You stayed resting on your stomach, ankles crossed behind your head, as you scooted southwards along the bed. His cock sprung free, gently slapping against his stomach. His pubes, including his balls, were shaved completely compared to Joel. A small detail that you didn’t notice the first time you and Tommy fucked. You wrapped your fist around the base of his cock, giving the soft, velvety skin a few slow tugs before you leaned over and left a few kitten licks across his tip. He let out a soft grunt of approval, tilting his head back as you slipped the crown of his cock past your lips, sucking sweetly on it.

Joel was preoccupied with maneuvering himself around the room, setting up multiple cameras and messing with the lighting and such.

“Christ, brother.” Tommy sharply inhaled. “Your girl sure has a sweet mouth on her, fuck.”

“Mhm. She sure does. Best head I’ve ever fuckin’ had.” Joel mused, setting up the final camera to face the bed on the side that you were laying on. Once the camera was set, he leaned over the side of the bed, thumb gently brushing across your cheekbone. Even with your mouth stuffed with Tommy’s cock, he could tell you were smiling.

“Bein’ such a good sweet lil’ cockslut for Tommy. Ain’t ya, baby love? Probably s’a nice break for your pretty throat.” He snickered.

All you could do was dumbly nod at his question, taking Tommy’s cock deeper down your throat as he let out a deep grunt, thick fingers curling around the crown of your head. “Fuck, yeah. Such a pretty sight gettin’ to watch your girl suck on my cock like this.” He gently pressed down on your head, silently encouraging you to take more of him down your throat till your nose was pressing against his pubic bone, “seriously, could just lay here for fuckin’ hours.”

Joel fought the urge to roll his eyes at his brothers goading as he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to the back of your head, whispering, “suckin’ on his cock so prettily, got daddy here nearly leakin’ through his shorts.”

He pulled back slowly, addressing his brother directly, “yeah, well, you ain’t about to steal away all the fun from me, Tommy.” He snipped.

You whimpered softly around Tommy’s cock, drool pooling around the corners of your mouth as you gagged around him, giving yourself a moment to breathe as you slowly pulled your mouth off from his cock with a wet pop!

“Relax, Joel.” Tommy chided, “I wouldn’t dream of takin’ that away from you.”

“C’mere, daddy.” You beckoned him sweetly as you sat up on your knees, scooting over to the edge of the bed as you reached for the hem of his shorts, “wanna gag on your cock again. Get it all nice and wet before you fuck me.” You grasped the hem of his shorts, pulling the elastic back before letting it playfully snap against his hips.

Your eagerness to please him sent blood flowing southwards between his thighs as he leaned over and grasped your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting it upwards so you were looking up at him. “Yeah, baby love? That’s what my eager little cockslut wants, is daddy's cock stuffed down her pretty little throat?” He mused, lips curving into a grin as his thumb gently swiped through a stray strand of drool that was glistening on the corner of your lips.

You nodded dumbly, eyes bright, nearly twinkling under his gaze as you reached for the hem of his shorts once more, leaning in closer, “yeah, daddy.” You cooed, “I want to suck on yours and Tommy’s cock…at the same time. I want to be a good little cockslut for both of you. Do you want that, too?”

It was at that moment that Joel fucking Miller not only forgot his own name, but his birthday and his age. His brain short-circuited, pulse rushing fast in his ears. He nodded, swallowing hard as he regained his composure, “y-yeah.” He stuttered, “fuck—yeah, baby love.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Tommy snickered. “You damn near broke my brother, babygirl.”

Something indescribable flashes across your lover's eyes when you teasingly pull his hard cock free, beckoning him to come closer with a simple curl of your fingers, and that devious glint in your eyes.

“Get to it then.” He snips, surprisingly both you and himself at his sudden change of tone.

Tommy immediately picks up on the obvious shift in the room, and opts to fall into his submissive role beneath his brother. When he opens his mouth to speak, Joel shushes him.

“No. You ain’t gettin’ outta this. She wants to suck both our cocks like a good fuckin’ slut and that’s what she’s gonna do, and then I’m goin’ split her apart with my fuckin’ cock and you’re gonna watch and patiently wait for your turn.”

“Daddy—” you start, but Joel isn’t having any of it when he bends over to the side of the bed where you’re sitting back on your thighs looking up at him expectantly. His big, meaty hand comes to grasp your chin, yanking your head upwards as he leans down further, asserting his dominance, “zip it, baby love. Don’t wanna hear a peep from you. Jus’ the pretty sounds your mouth makes when you’re chokin’ on daddy’s cock, you got that?”

“Yes—”

He shakes his head, applying a bit of pressure to your jaw, causing your eyes to widen slightly. “What did I just fuckin’ say? Not a peep. Nod your head if you understand what daddy’s sayin’ to ya.”

You dumbly nod your head in tandem, squeezing your thighs together from his authoritative nature taking over.

“Atta girl. That’s a good cockslut. Now, open up that pretty mouth for daddy and put it to some good fuckin’ use, baby love.”

Your mouth falls open on command, and maybe a bit of shock as well. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to see Joel’s dominant side more often. You loved when he called you a slut, his slut, his whore, his to take. Did this make you a bit of a masochist? Maybe, but that meant fuck all to you when you obediently stuck your tongue out, awaiting his cock.

A satisfied smirk crossed his handsome features at your willingness to obey. It had been years since his time at Brazzers, and even in Miller-Co his partners before you preferred sex with him to be vanilla, and sometimes he would sprinkle in a little dash of dominance, but nothing quite like the display he was putting on now. A phase of him that once laid dormant, was quickly reawakening right before your very eyes. As if a switch inside of him was flipped on, whirring to life.

He grasped the base of his heavy cock between his fist, guiding the fat cockhead to rest along your tongue.

“Wider.” He rasps as he slowly begins to feed you his cock, watching tears spring to the corner of your eyes when he forces you to stretch your jaw further around the thick girth of him. “That’s it.” He preens, “you can fuckin’ take it. You can take all of me down that pretty little throat. Gonna have you chokin’ and droolin’ all over daddy’s fat fuckin’ cock, baby love.”

his freehand comes to rest along the back of your head, nails scraping at your scalp when the tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat. You gag around him, drool leaking from the edges of your stretched mouth as you try to pull back for air, but he doesn’t allow you. “No.” He sternly chides, brows furrowed as he looks down at you, “Breathe through your nose, baby love. You’re doin’ so good for daddy.” A brief moment of softness, and a reminder to you that you were safe. This wasn’t Brazzers, this was your Joel.

Your nostrils flare at his words, tears beginning to spill over your waterline, not due to being in any physical pain, but more-so for the fact that this is an incredibly intense moment for you both to be experiencing.

“That’s it.” He coos, “relax your jaw. Relax, baby love. You’re safe.” He loosens his grip around your head, tenderly stroking your hair in a soothing motion. “That’s my girl.”

Tommy captures the whole thing on camera. From your drool trailing down your chin and throat, to the girth of his cock stretching your mouth open, to the way that you and Joel are looking at one another through your tears. An intense gaze that neither party breaks. You’ve never trusted anyone in your life like you trust your Joel.

You breathe through the discomfort, dragging your nose through the thatch of curls at the base of his cock, lashes fluttering, eyes rolling back when he slowly juts his hips into your face in a gentle rocking motion. He does this for a few thrusts before he finally releases you, slipping his cock out of your mouth as you gasp for air.

His big palms come to rest along your cheeks, wiping away your tears and shushing you with soft praises. Just as he expected, you’re hungry for more, feeling a newfound confidence wash over you as you reach for both of their cocks. The two brothers exchange a brief glance at one another as you take Tommy’s cock into your mouth, wrapping your fist around Joel’s cock to keep him stimulated.

What a sight you are, sitting prettily on your knees, eyes still glassy from the tears you shed around Joel’s cock. Tommy holds the camera between his hands, getting a close up of your mouth working around him, staring directly into the lens with that sultry gaze. Your pussy is drooling for attention, pulsing at the prospect of getting fucked very, very soon.

The room is heady and coated in a fine layer of sex-induced haze that hangs around the three of you like a cloak. Joel is the first to make a move when he feels that you’ve had enough of Tommy’s cock down your throat and pulls you back to him.

You can’t deny how much you’re enjoying being a little fuck toy for the two Miller Brothers, your throat now stuffed full of Joel’s cock as your fist works around Tommy’s. When you feel like you need a breather, you slip Joel’s cock from your mouth, a translucent thread of saliva dangles from the tip of his cock all the way to your glistening lips.

Now with one hand around Tommy, and one hand around Joel, you rub their cock heads all over your cheeks, lightly slapping yourself with the smooth velvet skin with a cockdrunk look plastered all over your pretty face.

“That’s it. That’s the fuckin’ shot of the century right there.” Tommy chuckles, “we got ourselves the prettiest little cockslut on her knees for us, brother.”

“My cockslut.” Joel doesn’t hesitate to correct him. “My pretty little cockslut who is gonna be stuffed fuckin’ full of daddy’s cum soon.” He rasps, shooting you a subtle wink from above.

Your eyes roll back from his words, spreading your knees further apart in a desperate attempt to grind your pussy along the mattress for any form of relief. You’re aching for any attention, and your Joel revels in the sight of you looking like this.

“Please, Daddy. Please.” Are the only words you’re able to get out as you roll your hips against the mattress.

“Please what, baby love? Look at you,” he coos, “filthy lil’ thing rubbing your sweet cunt all over the mattress like a fuckin’ desperate cockslut. Need your pussy stuffed that bad, baby? S’that it? Need daddy’s cock so bad?”

Oh.

You didn’t expect your Joel to be so…mean and condescending, but you welcomed it eagerly with a swift nod of your head.

“‘Atta girl.” He smirks. “Now, drop Tommy’s cock, baby love and come to daddy.” He demands, curling one of his broad fingers at his side in a come hither motion.

You work on autopilot, dropping Tommy’s cock from your grasp and focusing all your attention on Joel.

“Fuckin’ spit on it, baby love. Spit all over daddy’s fat cock and get it nice and wet for me with that pretty mouth of yours. Don’t think we’re gonna need extra lubrication with the way your pussy is droolin’ all over the goddamn mattress.” He snickers. “But just for the hell of it.”

You waste no time to spit a glob of saliva all over his fat cockhead, watching in a transfixed gaze when he wraps his own fist around himself, smearing in your saliva with his precum. “Good girl, baby love. S’good for daddy. M’gonna reward you now, okay?”

You nod expectantly, briefly glancing over at Tommy who is leisurely stroking his own cock to keep himself hard and stimulated while he would patiently wait his turn to fuck you after his brother.

“Thank you, daddy.” You let out a relieved sigh thinking that he finally was going to give you his cock and stretch you open.

“Wouldn’t go thankin’ me so soon, baby love. Haven’t given ya nothin’ yet.” He reminds you with a stern look that sends your heart racing. “Now, on your back for me. Spread your thighs so daddy can see that pretty soaked pussy. Wanna see all of her.”

There’s a soreness and slight ache in your jaw that you haven’t felt in years up until now. Remnants of your tears stained your cheeks in a salty trail. Joel can see the gears turning in your head, the flicker of emotions behind your eyes. You’re not afraid…it’s more of an apprehension if anything as you reach one hand up to gently rub the soreness in your jaw.

Joel clocks in on your discomfort, glancing over at his brother before he leans over and murmurs something to him. Tommy nods in understanding, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pads out of the room, his heavy cock bobbing between his thighs.

“Baby love, you doin’ okay?” Joel softly asks as his hands gently slide up the expanse of your thighs, easing you onto your back. “…Am I bein’ too much? Baby, I can dial it back, okay? I shoulda—”

“Joel.” You sigh softly, meeting his softened and concerned gaze, “I’m okay, baby. I’m just…feeling a lot right now.”

“I can tell.” He nods in understanding. “Can see it in your eyes, my sweet girl. That’s why we’re gonna take a breather.”

You attempt to sit up on your elbows, feeling shame creep its way up your spine. You’re afraid now, afraid that you’ve disappointed him so soon. That silly brain of yours can be so fucking mean sometimes and you truly wish that you could just turn it off, especially in a moment like this.

“No—no, it’s fine, Joel. I’m fine.” You weakly argue, attempting to put up a façade that he immediately sees right through.

“You ain’t, and that’s okay. I can see the fuckin’ gears whirring in your brain right now, baby.” His argument is soft spoken, not meant to further upset you as his fingers gently play with the tuft of damp curls above your mound.

“I just…I don’t want to disappoint you, okay? I know it seems silly, but I just feel so fucking vulnerable right now.” There’s a moment of relief and weight lifted off your shoulders when you finally put your feelings into words. You’re half expecting a snarky remark with a clipped tone. He can feel you tense up, thighs growing stiff as an unpleasant shiver runs down your spine.

“If you think that this is about to turn into a therapy session where you make everyone in the room to take pity on you, you’re dead fucking wrong, girl. You honestly think your feelings matter? They don’t. Not in this industry, and you knew this when you signed up. No one here is gonna wipe your tears, so I suggest you wipe them yourself and suck it up. You want to get paid, don’t you? Good. The sooner you quit your whining, the sooner you can ice your jaw.”

You can hear the director at Brazzers snapping in your ear now after you tapped out from a gangbang scene that got too intense. Making you feel worse than you already do. But you were young, fresh to the industry and you thought that maybe you could handle it, but the truth was…you couldn’t.

Joel’s eye begins to twitch, his hand on your thigh flexes, knuckles growing tight when he imagines the degradation and cruelty you faced at Brazzers. It split his heart right down the middle, tearing it by the seams when he hears the pain in your tone, and your fear that you have disappointed him. This couldn’t be further from the truth; you could never disappoint him.

“Baby love, you could never disappoint me, okay? Never. Not in a million fuckin’ years. You just being here in this moment with me, is all I can ever ask for, okay? If you’re feeling scared right now, I need you to tell me. If I’m being too much, too aggressive, too dominant, please tell me, okay?”

“My jaw just really fucking hurts.” You blurt out, masking your words with a forced laugh.

“I know it does, baby. Tommy’s getting you some ice, okay? We don’t have to do that again.”

You sit up finally, grasping him by his broad shoulders and pull him up your body so he’s straddling your hips. “I’m not scared, Joel. You’re not being too much, okay? I actually really love to see this dominant side of you, baby.” You press a sweet kiss to his lips. “I want to do that again because I trust you, and want to have these experiences with you.”

“…You do?” He sounds unsure of himself as he kisses you back, winding his arms around your waist as he gently lifts you into his lap, his cock is still hard and wedged between your stomachs. “I won’t dial it back then, but I just want you to know that I’m not going to push you past your limits, but I will always encourage you to go further because I know that you can. I think back to when we first met and you were so fuckin’ scared over how I would react to the list of things that you were uncomfortable doing, and how from that point forward, i’ve wanted to show you that those painful, and fucked up experiences at Brazzers can be turned into something…liberating for you.” He murmurs, tightening his grip around you.

“Baby, I think it’s so fucking sexy that you’re becoming more familiar and comfortable with your dominate side. I like calling you daddy, and I’m really into you calling me a little cockslut and whatever else that dirty mind of yours conjures up. Joel, I feel so safe with you. The safest I have ever felt with any partner. You inspire me to be more open, to feel less shameful of my feelings and dealing with my trauma. You’re literally my fucking rock, you know that?”

Before your Joel can even process your genuine words and utter out a reply, Tommy has returned, clearing his throat to make his presence known as he leans against the doorjamb with a bag of frozen peas in his hand. “Hey, princess.” He cracks a comforting grin, “couldn’t find an ice pack, but I figured frozen peas would do the trick? Oh, and you’re insanely fucking good at deepthroating—my god.” He gushes earnestly.

You stifle a giggle, looking over Joel’s shoulder. “You’re not just saying that to fuck with me, right Tommy? Am I really that good?”

He laughs, pushing himself off the side of the door before he joins the two of you on the bed. “Babygirl, I am a man who never lies. You’re head game is un-fucking-real.”

“He’s right, baby love. You were chokin’ on daddy’s cock like a pro.” Joel adds with a reassuring smile. “M’so proud of you, baby love. Always so proud of my girl.”

You feel the heat bloom over your cheeks at both of their praises as your confidence slowly begins to return. You press a chaste kiss to Joel’s lips before reaching over his shoulder for the bag of peas.

Joel kisses you back, keeping you secured in his arms as you ice the sore spot on your jaw. Both he and Tommy are beyond considerate and patient and you truly couldn’t be anymore grateful than you feel right now.

Once the soreness in your jaw has considerably dissipated, you hand the now half frozen peas back to Tommy and wind your hand through the back of Joel’s sweaty curls, kissing him with more conviction, “okay, daddy. I’m ready for you to split me open with your cock now. I can take it, I want to take it. Want you to give me your worst.” You mumble against his lips, feeling his cock jump between your pressed bodies from your lewd verbiage.

“Oh, daddy’s gonna give you his fuckin’ worst, alright.” He growls, kissing you deeper while his hands slide under your ass, squeezing the soft flesh of your cheeks firmly. “Gonna make you beg for daddy’s cock, baby love.”

The room feels hot, ten times hotter than it’s ever felt as Joel purposely edges you with his cock, pressing the girth of him inside of you before he draws his hips back out. You’re a sobbing, blubbering mess, soaked in sweat. Each time he thrusts into you, his cockhead punches your cervix and it’s a torturous pattern that leaves your thighs quivering at the angle they’re spread at.

Tommy is kneeled behind your head, camera between his hands again while your hand is wrapped loosely around his cock, stroking it at an erratic pace as your back bows from the mattress, hips rolling forward to meet Joel’s periodic thrusts.

“D—daddy, please! Please—fuck.” You let out a whine. You sound so desperate, so needy to come, and you’re right where Joel wants you.

“Aw cute.” He coos in a condescending tone, “You think you’re just gonna get what you want jus’ cus’ you asked daddy so nicely? That’s not how this works, baby love. You’re gonna take whatever daddy fuckin’ gives ya, and you’re gonna act grateful for daddy’s cock.”

“Better listen to him, babygirl.” Tommy warns you from above. “Think you mighta bruised his ego earlier.”

Your eyes flit upwards to meet Tommy’s smirking gaze before they land back on Joel, right down to where he has one hand gripping the inside of your thigh, keeping it pressed open to his liking, and the other rests around the base of his cock. He’s only rewarding you with half of his girth, pulling out completely when he feels your pussy clench down around him. He knows you’re so fucking close, and yet he refuses to allow you the satisfaction to come.

“But—but daddy!” You sob, “you said you weren’t upset with me for saying that Tommy might have you beat! Daddy, please! I’m sorry! Please just let your good girl come.” You begged him.

“Yeah, well, daddy might have lied earlier, baby love. Daddy’s ego is a little bruised over the fact that his perfect girl would even think that Tommy can eat her sweet little pussy better than I can.” He chuckles, eyes casting downwards to your tight little hole pulsing around air as he rubs his wet cockhead all over your puffy clit. “You misunderstood, baby love. Daddy isn’t upset, he’s just a little…angry s’all.”

Your eyes roll back from the sensation, letting out another pathetic sob when he taps his cockhead a few times against your already sensitive clit causing your hips to jolt upwards. “Daddy, I’m so sorry! Please, daddy. I promise I’ll be a good little cockslut for you! I’ll never make a silly comment like that again! You’re the best, daddy.”

“Oh, baby.” He sighs, almost as if he does pity you, “I don’t think you are sorry at all, baby love. And I don’t think you’re grateful for daddy’s cock and what he’s giving you.” He tuts, shaking his head. “Tommy, do you think she’s bein’ grateful right now?”

“Not at all, brother. She’s bein’ an ungrateful little slut.” He taps the side of your cheek with his cock. “So fuckin’ ungrateful.”

“No—no! That’s not true! Daddy, I am so grateful for your cock! I am!” You try to sound convincing, but Joel is unimpressed.

“Thas’ all Y’got for me, baby love? Mmm. I think you need a little encouragement.” He decides as he slips his cock back into your tight, hugging warmth all the way to the hilt. Punching the air from your lungs as you gasp his name.

Your words come out fragmented and broken when he suddenly draws his hips back and thrusts them forward without warning, knocking your body back against the mattress. He does this again, and again. Each thrust increases in speed till he’s jackhammering you into the mattress, shaking the frame against the wall with how much force he’s exerting. His one hand stays firmly clamped around your thigh while the other is splayed against your mound, thumb firmly pressed into your clit, working it in fast, vigorous circles.

“Tell daddy that you’re grateful for his cock, baby love! Tell him that you’re grateful for everything that he’s givin’ you! Cause if you don’t? Daddy will pull out right now, and you don’t fuckin’ get to come.” His voice is gravelly, scratching your eardrums just right with how primal he sounds.

“I—I’m so grateful for your cock, daddy! S-so grateful! Thank you, daddy! Thank you!”

“Yeah, thas’ right, baby love. Thas’ fuckin’ right. Perfect little cockslut is so-so grateful for her daddy’s cock. Fuck yeah, you are.” He grunts deeply, giving you one last solid thrust before he slips out completely. You don’t even get a chance to recover before you’re being flipped over onto your stomach by a new set of hands.

Tommy grips you firmly by the hips, yanking your ass upwards as your face falls flat against the mattress. He fists his cock a few times and uses his thumb and forefinger to guide his cock into you, watching the way your body immediately sucks him until his length is fully inside of you and his hips are firmly pressed against your ass. “Always such a tight fuckin’ fit, babygirl.” He preens as he draws his hips back before thrusting them forward.

Your mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape, eyes glazed over and blissed out completely. Joel watches from behind the camera as Tommy grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head backwards, forcing you to push yourself up on your forearms.

Joel intently watches the way your ass recoils against Tommy’s hips with each heavy, skin slapping thrust that he delivers you. His voice is still commanding, even when he’s not directly next to you.

“You take his cock so well, baby love. Fuckin’ love seein’ you gettin’ fucked like this. You gonna come all over his cock? Yeah, you are. Only when daddy tells you too, right?”

Your head snaps over in his direction, a fucked out smile tugging across your lips when you meet his gaze, “y—yes, daddy. Only when you tell me too.”

“Thas’ it. There’s my good little obedient cockslut.” He grins proudly, even giving you a cheeky little thumbs up before you're lost in the moment all over again. And when Joel gives you the permission to come, you’re gushing around Tommy’s cock on command. You don’t moan Tommy’s name, however. Oh, no. The only words you can form are daddy.

Tommy slips out, letting your body flop to the mattress like a limp fish before his hands pry your cheeks apart so he can watch your release pulse and drool down the seam of your pussy. He moves out of the way when Joel approaches the bed and hands the camera off to his brother before his calloused hands are gently maneuvering you onto your back.

“Baby love, I wanna try somethin’ with you, okay? Are you up for it, or is my girl positively fucked out now?” He asks teasingly, gently pinching your hips between his fingers.

You let out a squeal, lazily moving to swat his hands away when he pinches your skin. “Mmm…I’m so fucked out right now, daddy, but what do you want to try?”

He drops his hands from your hips and rests them between the apex of your thighs so his thumbs can spread your inner lips open, “wanna make you squirt, baby love. I know you were told before that you couldn’t, but that’s not true. You can, and I’m going to get you there but only if you want to, okay?”

“Y—you want to make me squirt? Daddy…I—I can’t. They told me I couldn’t and I believed them. I love you, I really do. But I can’t.”

“Baby love, you can. The only reason why you couldn’t before is because there was a mental block you were facing. You weren’t with the right people at the time. It wasn’t even your fault that you were fired, okay? Those fuckwads didn’t care enough to cater to your needs, but I’m here. I want you to experience this because it’s so fuckin’ special, baby. It’s nothing you’ve ever felt before.” Joel reassures you.

“And I’m gonna be your personal cheerleader, babygirl. Gonna hype you up the whole time, okay?” Tommy says from behind the camera, kneeling on the opposite side of where Joel is positioned between your thighs. “You can even hold my hand, if ya want.” He adds gently.

“What if you’re wrong, daddy? What if I truly can’t? What if they were right and—”

“Shh.” He says softly, eyes locking onto yours in a gentle yet intense stare, “they weren’t right, baby love. They were just a bunch of jackasses that couldn’t see your potential like I can. And you know what? This ain’t about me. This is about you gaining back your autonomy that they fuckin’ stole from you. You trust me, don’t you? Let me do this for you, please.”

“Joel.” Your voice waivers, fresh brewing tears threatening to spill over, Of course I trust you. I—I want to prove them wrong. I want to prove myself wrong.”

“That’s my girl. That’s my fuckin’ girl.” He preens.

It starts off with just two of his fingers; middle and ring finger knuckle deep, curling and shallowly thrusting inside of you. It’s not enough, but Joel doesn’t give up. He orders Tommy to grab one of your favorite toys, a hitachi wand. Joel uses his freehand to turn it to the lowest setting before gently placing it directly against your clit. The sensation is immediately too much and your body is naturally trying to escape, but Joel keeps your hips centered and on the mattress.

“I got you, baby love, daddy’s got you. You’re doing so good for me already. So-so fuckin’ good.”

You’re a mess of moans, a mixture of dripping profanities as you claw at the sheets, feeling your thighs begin to quiver and shake all over again. The feeling is more intense, more real than anything you have felt in this setting before. The coil in your stomach is pulled tighter, and tighter, and tighter.

Tommy reaches for one of your hands, letting your clammy fingers interlock through his as you grip onto him for dear life.

“I—can’t, daddy! It’s too much! Please—it’s too much!” You sob, tears making their way down your cheeks for what feels like the millionth time tonight. You’re surely going to need to hydrate extra after this.

“Yes you can, baby love! You can! I believe in you, Tommy believes in you. You’re so fuckin’ close I can feel it now. Can’t you? The burning hot coil being pulled tight in your tummy? Can’t you feel that?” He asks over the whir and buzz of the vibrator and the wet squelch of your pussy around his fingers, crooking them inwards. Your hips jolt, and you let out a scream that hopefully Joel’s neighbors can’t hear. It’s a scream not of pain, but relief, releasing all of your self-doubt and negativity that you had felt ever since you were wrongfully fired from Brazzers.

Joel Miller was showing you just how fucking amazing your body was, and the limits it could be pushed to. He was proving to you that there wasn’t anything you possibly couldn’t do. No challenge you couldn’t face. Fuck what Brazzers thought about you, or the judgement from your parents and the societal pressure you faced every single day as a woman. Your body was beautiful, powerful, and capable.

“There you go, baby! There you go!” Your Joel announced in excitement, his heart swelling with nothing but pride for his baby love. “Let go, my girl. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” He promised, crooking his fingers faster till he felt your body spasm, and a gush of wet spray coated his hand, forearm and everywhere in between.

Your ears were ringing, mind going fuzzy and Joel’s and Tommy’s voices sounded muffled as you saw stars dot your vision. Once your body started, you couldn’t stop even after Joel slipped his fingers out of you and tossed the vibrator off to the side, your pussy continued to squirt along the mattress till there was nothing left.

He was right, Joel was always right. Squirting for the first time was like nothing you had experienced before, and it felt so fucking liberating.

You faintly felt his warm lips between your thighs, lips suckling on your clit before they kissed their way up your body. Your eyes were half open when his hands cradled your face between them, thumbs stroking and brushing away your free falling tears. “You did it, my girl. I knew you could do it.” He whispered, sweat slick forehead pressed against your own, “m’so fuckin’ proud of you, baby love. So proud.”

Tommy flipped the camera off, setting it down on the nearby table before he left the room to give you and Joel a moment of privacy, and to grab some much deserved refreshments and snacks.

Joel gently eased you into his lap, letting you melt into his arms as you let out a wet sob with your face buried into the juncture of his neck. Your whole body was shaking as you clawed at his back while his strong hands gently rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “Shh, shh. It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Let it all out. I got you.” He murmured against your sweat soaked hair as he held you close.

“Did I really…?” You murmured into his neck, loosening your grip around him.

“You did, baby love. You did so well.” He whispered, gently beginning to rock you in his arms to further soothe you as you gradually came down from your high.

“Thank you, daddy. I-I love you so much.” You sniffled, pulling your face back from his neck so you could look into his eyes.

“No need to thank me, baby love. That was all you. I was jus’ there to help get you there. I love you so much, my sweet girl.”

You shook your head, disagreeing with his sentiment but before you could speak, he shushed you with a kiss. How could you really argue with him, then?

Tommy returned with three waters and a candy bar for you, flopping down on the bed with a soft oof.

The three of you sat in a comfortable silence while Joel made sure you were hydrated and even fed you small pieces of the candy bar so that you wouldn’t immediately have a sugar crash.

The two brothers exchanged a murmur of words before Joel untangled your limbs from his own and coaxed you up from the bed. He stayed glued to your side as he guided you to the bathroom and all the way into the shower. He made sure the temperature of the stream was just how you liked it.

He gently washed between your thighs, knowing how sensitive you were still feeling and didn’t want to overdo it. You loved that he was always so adamant on aftercare. It might have actually been his favorite part outside of being connected inside of your body. He loved to provide and take care of you in these especially intimate moments.

“How’s my girl feeling?” He asked with a soft rasp under the warm stream.

“Like I’m floating on a cloud.” You giggled softly, winding your arms around his neck. “My pussy feels a little numb though, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Mmm.” He hummed, wrapping his arms around you with his hands resting gently at your lower back, “that’s to be expected. She took a real poundin’ tonight. You’re gonna sleep like a fuckin’ baby soon.” He added with a warm chuckle.

“Fuck.” You laughed, “don’t I know it. I can probably sleep for days after that.”

“Tommy is outside startin’ a fire for us. Told him to grab one of my joints from the garage. I Figured you’d enjoy decompressing after all that.” He reached one hand up to gently rest it along the side of your head as he pulled you in closer.

“You know me too well, daddy. That sounds absolutely perfect to me.”

He grins boyishly at your response, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. “I’ll meet y’all down there in a bit, okay? Gonna finish up here and strip the sheets.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks when he mentioned the now soiled sheets as your teeth briefly knocked together in the wet kiss. “Sorry about that…I didn’t think it would be that much.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. They’re just sheets, baby love. No need to worry.” He reassured you, deepening the kiss briefly before he slowly pulled away.

“I still can’t believe I was actually able to squirt. It feels so fucking validating that after all these years I now know that I never was the problem. I cannot thank you enough for showing me that they were wrong, Joel. I—I wish I had the words to explain how grateful I am for you.”

“Of course they were wrong, baby love. They never deserved you in the first place. You don’t need to explain how grateful you are, okay? I feel it…here.” He reaches for your hand, gently placing it along the left side of his chest, right against his heart.

“You’re going to make me cry again, asshole!” You said playfully, kissing him again just because you could.

He laughed into your lips, bringing his freehand to rest around your face as he kissed you again, and again, and again. “I’m jus’ speaking the truth, baby love.”

“I know, baby. You’re the most honest man I know. Well, outside of Tommy.”

You and Joel part ways after showering. He heads back into the studio room while you walk to your shared bedroom to change into something comfy for the rest of the evening. You snatch one of his hoodies, slipping it over your head before grabbing a fresh pair of his boxer briefs and pull them on over your hips and ass.

When you step outside into the backyard, Tommy is already puffing away on the joint he rolled while he uses a spare stick to stoke the fire. He smiled warmly at you, beckoning you over to join him on the outdoor couch.

“There she is. Lil’ miss squirtin’ queen!” He teases as you plop down beside him, giving his shoulder a gentle push.

He passes the joint off to you between his fingers, letting his arm rest behind your head along the back of the couch. “How are ya feeling?”

“Honestly?” You look over at him as you take a long drag, tucking your feet up under your thighs to get comfortable, “I feel like I can conquer the whole fucking world right now.”

“Fuck yeah, you can! Women are soo fucking powerful, babygirl. Y’all are truly some forces to be reckoned with!”

You blow the smoke upwards into the clear night sky, resting your head against his shoulder before passing the joint back to him. “I just feel so…free right now Tommy, y’know? I don’t even know how to put it into words.”

“Girl, you literally soaked the entire fuckin’ mattress. You should feel as free as a bird right now! I know Joel is proud of you, but I am too. I remember the first time I made a girl squirt waaay back in the good ole’ Brazzer’s days. Shit was so intense and the chick I was fuckin’ literally said that she was in love with me! Ain’t that crazy?”

“Aw, Tommy, thank you. I’m really glad that you were there to experience it with me. And shit, no way? Did you tell her that you loved her back?”

“Nah.” He shook his head, clearing his throat as he ashed the joint off to the side, “I uh—I really didn’t know what to say. Felt terrible after the fact because she started to profusely apologize…and I guess I didn’t understand why? I mean, it slipped out in the heat of the moment, man. I don’t think she meant it.”

I really hope she didn’t.

You sat up, focusing your attention on him fully when you could feel his tone shift to somewhere uncertain. “Hey, are you okay?…is there something you want to talk about? I’m here for you, okay?”

He let out a dry laugh shaking his head before he looked over at you finally. “Yeah, there is somethin’ I wanna talk to you about. I jus’ don’t know how to phrase it.”

“Take your time, Tommy. There’s no rush.”

“Okay so, Joel doesn’t know about this yet because I really don’t know how to tell him, but one of my long term onscreen partners is planning on quitting Miller-Co entirely…because of me.” Tommy nervously chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“Tommy, what do you mean someone at Miller-Co wants to quit because of you? What…happened?” Tommy was a good guy in your eyes. You couldn’t imagine him ever making someone feel uncomfortable or god forbid—

“It ain’t bad, okay? I promise I didn’t do anythin’ bad.” He took a deep breath, exhaling before continuing, “so, it started with her starting to make comments about you and Joel and the dynamic of your relationship. She didn’t say nothin’ bad, I promise. She er—was hintin’ that she wanted to be in a relationship with me essentially?”

“Oh.” You said softly, beginning to understand where this conversation was potentially leading into. “I’m assuming you didn’t feel the same way as she did?”

“No.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I didn’t feel the same way. I tried to explain to her that I have never felt a romantic connection to anyone ever and that I was sorry.”

“Wait…never?” You were careful with your choice of words, reading between the lines to figure out exactly what he was saying.

“You can’t tell Joel any of this, okay? I—I don’t know how to tell him, babygirl. I know he would never judge me but I’m jus’—afraid.”

You reach for his hand, interlocking your fingers together to show him that he had your full support. “Tommy, it’s okay. Your brother isn’t going to scold you for this.”

“No, you’re right, he won’t. Anyway, I tried to tell her that I never have had a crush on anyone in my life and I have never been in love. She thought I was just making an excuse! Why would I make an excuse like that? Doesn’t she realize that if I could feel the same way for her that I would already?” He said exasperatedly, waving his freehand around to emphasize the point he was trying to make.

“Tommy, are you…aromantic?” You asked suddenly.

A sheepish look washed over his face, his cheeks turning as red as the flames from the fire, “yeah, I am.” He mumbled quietly.

“Oh, hon. It’s okay, that’s nothing for you to feel ashamed for. You know that, right?” You squeezed his hand gently, stroking your thumb along the outside of his hand.

“Fuck, I know it’s nothing for me to feel ashamed about! I know—but, I feel that way regardless. She literally thinks I’m some cold, heartless prick now! We’ve literally been fucking consistently for over a year and I thought we had…y’know, developed a mutual friendship.”

“I understand, Tommy. But you are not some cold heartless prick. There’s nothing wrong with you. She just…doesn’t see it the way that you and I do.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He sighs, sinking back against the couch cushions as he looks into the flames, “you’re the first person that I’ve ever come out to. I mean, my other queer friends know that I’m bisexual, but no one knows that I’m aromantic as well.”

“I understand how you feel, okay? I really do. I’m bisexual, too. I’ve faced similar ridicule for it ever since I came out. I’ve had people tell me to my face that I’m either straight or gay and that I have to pick between the two? It’s fucking ridiculous. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a queer man and feeling like there’s something wrong with you and the way that you live your life because of it.”

His lips part in shock as the joint dies between his fingers. He turns to face you completely, feeling a newfound sense of connection towards you that immediately springs tears to his eyes. “Wait, you’re queer too? I uh—I had a feeling, but I never want to be that person to assume, you know? When did you come out, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Yeah, hon. I’m queer too. And really? What gave me away?” You stifled a giggle, leaning further into his side. “I came out on my 21st birthday actually. My friends took me to my first gay bar in LA and I guess I just blurted it out after a few too many shots? Everyone was so fucking supportive. It brought me to tears! When did you come out?”

“Mmm.” He thought about it momentarily, tapping his fingers against his chin, “there wasn’t like a specific thing that gave you away, I just had this feeling when we first met that you were a fruity lil’ thing.” He laughed warmly. “I came out shortly after I flew out to LA to join Joel at Brazzers. I ended up dating one of my costars for a hot minute. He was my first boyfriend, but I didn’t really understand the whole concept of romance or how to make him feel like I loved him? Our breakup was pretty fuckin’ ugly. Told all his friends that I was a heartless tool and that was the end of that. Think I realized I was aromantic when I flat out told him that he was my best friend but my heart…didn’t get a boner for him? Poor choice of words, but I’ve never really been a serious guy to begin with.”

“Interesting.” You mused with a grin, “yeah, probably wasn’t the wisest move to tell him that your heart didn’t get a boner for him…but that was the only way that you felt you could explain it. Did you guys ever talk about it or reconnect?”

“Actually, yeah! We did. He texted me the other day actually to see how I was doing and we got into a conversation about it. He said it made a lot of sense and what not. I guess I’m just struggling with people not understanding that I’m still this…lovable guy, y’know? I just have never had any interest in love or being in love. Why’s that so hard for people to accept?”

“That’s great that you guys reconnected! Tommy, that’s wonderful! I think people have a problem with it because they want to place you into this perfect box so that you can blend in with the rest of society. They’re going to think you're weird because there’s this stigma around aromantic people being cold and heartless, when y’all are incredibly lovable people, just not in the romantic way.”

“Dude, tell me about it! Society is always telling us how we gotta act, dress, and live our lives! So fuckin’ fed up with it. You mentioned earlier how you can’t imagine how difficult it must be to be a queer man, and you hit the nail right on the head, babygirl. I’m constantly…having this internal battle with myself. Feelin’ like I don’t even belong in the community, y’know?” He sniffled, wiping his face along the sleeve of his shirt in an attempt to hide his tears.

“Hey, you absolutely do belong in the queer community. And anyone who tries to shun you is a bigoted asshole that should really do some self reflecting in their personal life before they try to tear down another marginalized person who is simply just fucking living their life and hurting no one!” You felt his pain and frustration from his words and all you really wanted to do was wrap him up in a big hug.

Tommy is momentarily distracted from a flicker of movement in the kitchen and flash of black fur jumping up onto the counter to see what Joel is up to. He smiles briefly, remembering the last time he caught his older brother putzing around the kitchen making munchies and singing a fucking tune like the lovesick teddy bear that he truly was.

“He really loves you.” He murmured softly.

“What?” You’re confused by the sudden flip of the conversation till you follow the path of his eyes and see your Joel flipping something inside of the pan before he picks Artemis up from the counter, kisses her head and gently places her on his shoulder.

“My brother. He really loves you.” Tommy reiterated with a cheeky grin. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him dancing around the kitchen like that. Whenever he gets really caught up in his feelings and emotions, he immediately starts cooking. The last time he did that was for—”

“Carmen?” You question softly, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” He nods, squeezing your hand gently when he notices your eyes growing glassy under the warm glow of the fire. “And…Sarah.”

“Oh cool! So now I’m gonna cry some more!” You laugh trying to process the sudden surge of emotions you’re feeling. “Tommy, I love that man so fucking much. He’s truly…heaven sent, y’know?”

He smiles knowingly, dropping your hand so he can wrap his arm around you, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, babygirl. And you’re the rite of his movement.”

“You—don’t bring Hozier up in a moment like this! Oh my god!” You laugh, turning your face into his shoulder.

The sliding back door from the kitchen opens moments later and your Joel appears with a whole ass stack of freshly made heart shaped pancakes on a plate, smothered in butter and drizzled perfectly in sticky syrup. Artemis is still proudly perched on his shoulder like a damn parakeet, her tail curved around his neck as he approaches the fire pit.

“Baby love!” He sings songs. “Made y’all somethin’ real special! Hope you’re in the mood for pancakes because—” he frowns when he sees the glassy look in his brother's eyes and your own when you peek over at him. “Why do y’all both look like you’re about to burst into tears? Not when I crafted up the best goddamn pancakes in all of Austin!” He attempts to lighten the mood as he gently sits down alongside you, setting the plate along his lap.

“It’s my fault.” Tommy is quick to speak up. “We got into a deep conversation and I uh—got emotional and then baby love got emotional.”

Joel raises a brow and it appears that even Artemis is listening as she leaps down from his shoulder and trots across the back of the couch to nuzzle against your head.

“What kinda deep conversation did y’all get into?”

“Well, first I just wanna let you know that Natalie is planning on quitting Miller-Co…because of me.” Tommy whispered the last part.

“Oh, for fuck sakes! Tommy, what did you do?” Joel lets out an exasperated sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Baby.” You speak up, “hear him out, okay?” You reach for his hand. “Tommy really needs our support right now.”

He sighs, grasping your hand in his palm with his fingers interlocked through yours. “I’m listenin.’”

“I promise I didn’t do anything wrong, Joel. I swear. Look, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a long time now, I jus’—I’ve been nervous to-do so.” Tommy starts, looking over at his brother as he gathers his thoughts, “so uh, I’m—aromantic and bisexual.”

Joel doesn’t even look the least bit surprised at his brother coming out. His eyes soften as he responds with a small nod, “that ain’t nothin’ you gotta worry about, little brother. I’ve been havin’ a feelin’ for a while now. S’okay. I love you jus’ the same.”

Tommy breaks immediately, his vision blurring with tears when his brother reaches across to gently squeeze his shoulder. “I—I had no idea that you already…knew.” He sniffles.

“Course not, Tommy. M’jus’ a real observant person, y’know? So, is this what’s gotten you all in a fuss? Can I safely assume that Natalie wants to quit because she found out that you’re queer and she has feelings for you that you can’t return?” Joel read between the lines at ease, feeling a surge of anger in his veins that one of their own colleagues made his kin feel a certain way. Especially when the values instilled at Miller-Co were accepting of everyone. No matter their race, gender, sexuality, etc.

“God dammit, you’re smart.” Tommy chuckles. “Yeah, basically that’s why she wants to quit. Fuckin’ ridiculous if I’m being honest.”

“Well, I don't like someone like her working for us anyway. If she wants to quit, then by all means, let her quit. Good riddance, honestly. Damn shame too. Miller-Co doesn’t have a place for small-minded people like her.” Joel is quick to defend and validate his brother's feelings without missing a beat.

“Okay, okay, you don’t needa go off on her or anythin’ , okay? I’ll handle it tomorrow or somethin.’” Tommy reassured him.

“Alright. I’ll let you handle it.” Joel nods, focusing his attention back on you. “So, Tommy comin’ out to ya is what’s gotten you all teary eyed again, baby love?”

You nod, looking over at him with a small smile. “Yeah, and…Joel?”

“Hm?”

“I’m bisexual…too.”

“Guess that makes me the token straight of the family, huh?” He lightly jokes before squeezing your hand, “well, if that’s the case, I love you all the same too, baby love.”

The following morning Joel wakes up long before you do. He heads into town, visiting a local business that was queer owned and known for their assortment of pride flag stickers and other merch. He purchases an aromantic pride bumper sticker and a bisexual bumper sticker. He doesn’t wait to get home to put them on the bumper of his truck. He carefully peels the stickers off and places them in a spare spot on the already heavily decorated bumper. He takes a step back, arms crossed over his chest with the biggest smile on his face.

Austin’s token straight, and biggest ally has done it once again, folks!

Banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🩷

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #daddy!joel miller #dom!joel miller #pornstar!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us

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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months ago

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Bonding

Summary: You and Javi just brought your daughter Lucy home from the hospital. While the two of you couldn't be more in love and excited at the addition of your newest family member, it doesn't mean that you both aren't feeling some of the nerves of being first time parents.

Word Count: 2.4K (She's reasonable, your honor)

Pairing: Dad!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: This is honestly just pure, sweet, sickening, fluff, mentions of body insecurity postpartum, worry/anxiety about being a first time parent, Javi snuggling a newborn baby skin on skin (it needs a warning fr), Javi being the cutest dad ever to exist, Javi is in full on dad mode, ladies and gents (gn) 🫡

A/N: This was inspired after reading @kteague adorable post about Frankie carrying his daughter in a baby sling, and I couldn't help but picture sweet Javi as a first time dad cuddling with his baby girl 😭🥺 and to @endlessthxxghts for being a bad influence 💀Y ou know for a fact that Lucy's got Javi wrapped around her finger from the moment she's born, and picturing the adorable bond these two have makes me want to melt into a puddle 🫠 also I have a raging case of baby fever, but let's pretend that wasn't entirely the motive to write this or that I'm not projecting at all WHOOPS

Part of the Forever and Always Series!!

From the moment you had found out you were pregnant, you had no doubt that Javi was going to be nothing short of the best dad you could have ever hoped for. Before your daughter was even born, Javi had completely flipped the switch into full Dad Mode, spending the past 9 months coming with you to every single doctor’s appointment, baby proofing every square inch of your home, and checking out (and re-checking out) every parenting book he could get his hands on at the library.

So it was safe to say, that once you brought Lucy home from the hospital to start your life together as a family of 3, if Javi hadn’t already been full force into Dad Mode, he sure as hell was now, and was going to do anything and everything he could to make sure that the two most important girls in his life were showered with every ounce of love and affection he had.

It was also safe to say that even though he wouldn’t admit it, Javi was also an absolute nervous wreck at the reality that he was now actually a dad to a tiny newborn daughter that had been brought into the world.

“You think that her diaper is snug enough? Should I get a bottle ready just in case she gets hungry? Different pajamas to sleep in before we put her down?” Javi asked, carefully cradling Lucy against his chest as you passed her off to him, planting a soft kiss on her head, gently bouncing her up and down.

“Javi,” You laughed leaning in to give your sleepy daughter a kiss on the messy tufts of hair ruffled on her head before looking back up at your husband, “I’m going to take a shower, not leaving for war. I’ll be quick, so that way if she needs me then I’ll-”

“Hermosa,” he paused, raising an eyebrow at you as he smiled, “take as long as you need, okay? I’m just asking to make sure so I don’t have to bother you. Take an hour, hell, take 3 hours for all I care, you deserve it, Momma. I can’t imagine how exhausted you are. Me and Lucy Goosey will be just fine, won’t we, mi amor (my love)?”

The two of you smiled as Lucy quietly cooed, your grin spreading even wider watching Javi’s face light up with joy as he looked down at his daughter, your heart practically bursting at the seams with how in love he was with her. But even through the pure bliss in Javi’s eyes, you couldn’t help but sense a nervous twinge in his voice, knowing that in the short day and a half that you’d been home from the hospital, even though you were only a room away, this was the first time that Javi was in charge of Lucy all by himself. And because you knew your husband better than you knew yourself, you knew that despite the fact Javi was probably better prepared for parenting than you were, he was secretly terrified he was going to do something that would hurt his precious baby girl, and the thought of that? That scared the shit out of him.

“Javi?” You said again, gently rubbing your hand against his arm, forcing his gaze to shift on to you and your tired smile. “Honey, you know you’re an amazing dad right? But, I can guarantee that even though we would do anything and everything for this stinker, we’re gonna mess up at some point. You love her so much, and that’s all that matters, okay? I love you, Jav.”

You could feel some of the tension begin to ease from Javi’s body, looking back down at Lucy before back to you, taking in a deep breath, and softly nodding his head to himself.

“I know, it’s just- She’s so perfect. I wanna give her everything. I just, I just wanna be a good dad. I just want her to know that I love her so much.”

As if you weren’t already an emotional mess, watching the tears well in Javi’s eyes as he gazed down at Lucy, looking at her like she was the only thing the world that existed, had your hormonal heart bursting into a million pieces, now trying to wipe your own wetness streaming down your cheeks.

“Javi, I don’t think it’s possible for you to love that little girl anymore than you already do.” You sighed, stepping in to press a kiss onto Javi’s lips before another onto Lucy’s head. “Okay, I’m gonna go shower before I become even more of a hot mess than I already am. You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“Thanks, Osita. We’ll be just fine. I love you.”

“I love you too, Jav.”

“And hey, you’re not a hot mess, just hot.” Javi smirked, making you roll your eyes as you gestured to yourself and the undeniably disheveled state you were in.

“Javi, I look like I just rolled out of a dumpster. I am literally wearing an adult sized diaper.”

“And no one’s ever made an adult sized diaper look hotter, Hermosa.”

You couldn’t help but let out a snort, shaking your head at your husband as you finally turned to head out of the nursery, giving Javi and Lucy one last wave before disappearing out of the door frame and into the bathroom for a much needed shower.

“Alright, it’s just you and me, pollita (little chicken).” Javi smiled, rocking Lucy against your chest, taking a deep breath of reassuring confidence, feeling more self-assured about his time alone. “Let’s get you into some pajamas, huh?” With another kiss on Lucy’s head, Javi carefully laid her down on her changing table, reaching into one of the drawers to pull out a tiny onesie covered in pink flowers and strawberries.

He couldn’t help but laugh to himself at how absolutely tiny the pair of pajamas felt in his hands, shaking his head in disbelief at the fact that all of this was real- for so long, Javi had been convinced a family of his own would never be in the cards for him, and for as much as it hurt, he’d come to accept it. But when you had come into his life and given him the second chance that he had so desperately longed for, he still couldn’t quite believe how he had deserved to find himself here with a beautiful family, a wife and daughter he loved more than life itself, and how he couldn’t have been happier to be dressing his newborn baby girl into a pair of tiny pink pajamas.

Checking Lucy’s diaper and tossing her clothes into the hamper, Javi zipped her up into her pajamas, noticing that she was starting to get squirmy and fussy, he quickly picked her back up, pressed against his chest as he made his way over to the rocking chair in the corner of the nursery.

Despite the steady movement back and forth and the gentle rocking, Lucy’s cries only started to become louder, Javi trying his best to keep calm despite the fact his heart was racing, thinking he had already done something wrong to upset his daughter in the few short minutes they had been together.

“Hey, hey, hey, shhhhhhh, it’s okay bebita, it’s okay.” Javi cooed, gently patting Lucy’s back to try and soothe her. “What’s wrong, huh? It’s not your diaper, Momma fed you before she got in the shower, I wonder if it’s-”

Before Javi could finish the rest of his mental checklist outloud, he was looking down at his shoulder to see the little dribbles of spit-up drooling from Lucy’s mouth onto his shirt, quietly laughing to himself at the mystery that had seemed to solve itself.

“Alright, well that was easy. Let’s get you cleaned up, messy miss.”

Standing up to bring Lucy back to the changing table, he laid her down to reach into another drawer to grab one of the many burp cloths that had been stored away to wipe up Lucy’s little face before he was back to the pajama drawer, pulling out another pair to change her into. But as he tossed Lucy’s second outfit in 10 minutes into the laundry, he couldn’t help but notice the giant spit stain drenching his own shoulder. Not wanting to have to lay Lucy back into his damp shirt, he stared down at his daughter in nothing but her diaper, thinking back to the advice from the plethora of parenting books he had consumed and a few days ago after Lucy’s birth, where the nurses had been adamant about making sure both you and Javi spent plenty of skin on skin time with the baby.

Trying to fight off any self-doubt or need for reassurance, Javi took a deep breath as he stared down at Lucy, still restless and crying on her changing table before stripping his own shirt and tossing it in with the other tiny items of laundry that had quickly accumulated throughout the day.

“Okay, c’mere mi amorcita (my little love), it’s okay, I’ve got you. Shhhhhh, I’ve got you, baby girl.” Javi cooed, carefully cradling his daughter to his bare chest, feeling the heat of her tiny body pressed against his as he sat back down in the rocking chair, resting her head on his shoulder. “Don’t cry, pollita, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

After a few seconds of whispered reassurances and gentle rocks back and forth, Javi let out a quiet sigh of relief as Lucy’s cries began to lessen, slowly fading from wails to muffled tears against Javi’s chest.

“That’s it, see, it’s okay, baby girl.” Javi softly smiled, pressing a tender kiss into Lucy’s soft hair before reaching over to the small bookshelf next to the rocking chair, pulling a well loved copy of “Goodnight Moon” into his lap, trying his best to maneuver it open to the first page with his one free hand. “You never got to meet your Grandma Lucia, but that’s who you’re named after. A long time ago, this was Daddy’s favorite book to listen to her read. This is his book when he was a little boy, and now I’m so happy it gets to be yours.” Almost as if little Lucy knew, her crying began to calm even more to listen to her dad as he began to read.

“In the great green room, there was a telephone, and a red balloon and a picture of…”

As Javi began to read each page, Lucy became quieter and quieter, and by the time they had said goodnight to kittens and mittens, and clocks and socks, Little Lucy was sound asleep on Javi’s chest, her soft snores rumbling on his skin.

“Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere. And goodnight my sweet Lucy Goosey. Daddy loves you so much.” Javi cooed, gently rubbing his thumb in circles along Lucy’s back as he tilted his head against the back of the rocking chair, the back and forth and weight of his sleeping daughter on his chest slowly just enough to the weight of his eyelids droop to a close right along side Lucy’s.

After a long, hot, and much needed shower, you had changed into some new pajamas, throwing your still damp hair into a towel as you headed down the hallway towards the nursery, surprised and slightly concerned by the lack of noise coming from the room.

“Hey baby, I’m all done with the shower if you want me too- Oh my god.” Before you could even make it all the way through the door, you were stopped in your tracks, covering your mouth with your hand to try and cope with the cuteness overload that was in front of you.

There, in the corner of the room sat Javi and Lucy in the rocking chair, the pair sound asleep and snoring as Lucy lay against his bare chest, “Goodnight Moon” half open and slipping out of Javi’s lap from what you assumed had to have been the book he was reading to her before they clonked out.

Your footsteps down the hallway must have been enough to wake Javi to the point that his eyes began to blink open, scrunching his face in a half awake yawn as he recognized your frame in the doorway, quickly shaking his head to bring himself back to full consciousness, immediately looking down at his chest to make sure Lucy was still there before looking back at you and the lovestruck grin spread between your cheeks.

“You two having a good nap?” You giggled quietly, making your way over to stand next to the rocking chair, gently running your hand through the dark curls of Javi’s messy, sleep ridden hair, kissing his forehead, admiring your tiny daughter perched on your husband’s chest.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, hermosa. I didn’t even realize I fell asleep.” Javi whispered, steadying his grip around Lucy as he sat up straighter.

“Javi, don’t apologize, baby. I’m glad that you were able to get her to sleep for you. Did you read her “Goodnight Moon”? Glad to know it still works like a charm. I think she must already have it memorized at this point.” You smiled, picking the book up off of Javi’s lap, turning through the well worn pages, knowing how excited Javi had been to finally read it to her as he held her, despite all of the times he had read it to your belly while you were pregnant when it was the only ways to bring you some relief from the constant kicking in your last trimester.

“Yeah we did, didn’t we, sleepy girl? Although I didn’t realize that “Goodnight Dad” was the last page of the book I must have been missing all this time.” Javi laughed, readjusting Lucy as she let out a tiny yawn, stretching her little body against Javi’s.

“Well, if every time you read “Goodnight Moon” to this little cutie, you end up shirtless with Lucy asleep on your chest, I don’t think that I’ll have anything to ever complain about again, except for the fact I’m gonna die of cuteness. God, you two are so adorable. You have a good time with your Daddy, baby girl? I hope you know that you’ve got him wrapped around your little tiny finger, Little Miss. He loves you so much.”

“God, you’ve got that right. Have you ever seen anything so perfect? She’s perfect, Osita. I love her more than anything. I love our family so much. Thank you.” Javi whispered, trying to fight back the tears welling in his eyes.

“Thank me for what, Javi?”

“For giving me everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Taglist

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @pedr0swh0r3

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toxicanonymity · 11 months ago

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twin peaks.

4k, Joel x afab!reader x Tommy, ONE SHOT A/N: This is my @pedrostories secret santa gift. @endlessthxxghts, you're on my nice list. Happy holidays! ♥️ Ty for the flexibility and for engaging with fics you like, which gave more ideas 🖤. Please excuse the extra men, don't need to remember names. Ty @jksprincess10 for your afab insights! WARNINGS: I8+, Motorcycle Club AU, but Joel is no longer riding. You're a chef. Language. Bar fight. Blood. Gunfire. My first attempt at mild grumpy/sunshine. Passing reference to a bar server's prior SA incident. An OC gets in your personal space and touches your side. Hurt/Comfort. Minor love triangle, I guess, but everyone’s cool. Unsafe P in V, creampies. MFM but only joel inside. The men can lift you. You’re shorter than them. Competency kink, mild size kink, sharing. Starts in Joel POV. There are a few characters from The Bikeriders. BIKER JOEL RECS: both sides of the moon by @lunitawrites and (and ty for this list luna lol) a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore., the road to love by @jobean12-blog

dividers from @cafekitsune for POV change and time jump

“Changed the recipe,” Joel grumbles.

Tommy shakes his head with a smile. “Ya know, brother. . . you might be the only one who comes here for the wings.”

“Cause they’re the best. Or they *were*. Taste this.” Joel pushes the basket over to Tommy and takes a swig of beer, then adds, “If I wanna see some skin, I’ll go to a proper titty bar.”

The uniforms are cute at Twin Peaks, but Joel is there for two reasons: the wings and the company. He sold his Harley and quit the club after a minor accident. It left him only a little scraped up but scared his daughters to death. Now these biker bars are the only place he sees his old crew.

“Shit, they did change it,” Tommy concedes. “Maybe ya should send’em back,” he teases.

“Not a bad idea,” Joel mutters.

“Really?” Tommy asks.

“‘S’cuse me. Miss?” The scantily clad server turns around. “They musta changed the recipe, I can’t eat these.”

“Oh no,” the server frowns. “Sorry ‘bout that, lemme see what I can do.” The server takes the wings back to the kitchen.

A minute later, you emerge from the kitchen in your chef’s whites and Joel does a double take. You smile at him as you approach.

“Oh, shit,” Tommy elbows him, but Joel hardly notices. He’s captivated by you, but he keeps a straight face.

“Heard the wings weren’t to your liking,” you cringe empathetically.

“Why’d ya go and change the Hot Honey recipe.”

“I’m sorry, hun. Hot Honey’s off the menu, that’s the closest we’ve got.”

“It’s *what* now? Why’d ya take it off?”

You sigh with an apologetic smile. “Wasn’t my call.” Then you perk up. “But I think you might really like the new Thai Spice recipe,” you smile.

“Don’t think so,” Joel grumbles.

“He don’t like change,” Tommy explains.

“How ‘bout a basket on the house?” You offer with a tilt of your head and raise of your eyebrows.

Joel is flustered by your charm. “Uh, sure,” he mutters, trying not to check you out. Not much to see anyway with that chef’s apron.

“If ya like’em, buy me a drink sometime,” you add with a wink that makes Joel lose all his thoughts for a moment.

“Yes, chef,” Joel nods, which makes both you and Tommy giggle. Then you turn and head back to the kitchen.

“I dunno what they see in ya, man,” Tommy teases Joel and watches as you walk away. “Mm. Hottest thing here and dressed like a paper towel roll.” Joel fails to suppress a chuckle. “You gonna share?”

“We’ll see.”

The front door to the restaurant opens, and a hush falls over the dining room.

Joel looks over his shoulder for only a second, then turns back toward the bar and mutters, “Fuckin’ Benny.”

“And the Jets,” Tommy adds as Johnny and at least half the rival crew follow Benny into the restaurant. Great, there’s Cal, Carter’s rotten brother. Real bad guy. Their motorcycle club is dangerous.

Joel gets his wallet out of his pocket and pulls out a few twenties, then downs the rest of his beer. “Didn’t come to babysit.”

“Think it’ll get ugly?” Tommy asks. “What about your new friend?”

“My new friend?”

“‘member what happened with Carter’s girl?” Of course Joel remembers. Cal got handsy with her, Carter put him in a chokehold, and a nasty fight broke out. Carter got stabbed.

“Well, I ain’t in charge and don’t got a sweetheart, so I reckon chef hottie’s okay. Where’s Carter?”

“Home. Can’t ride, already busted his stitches open once.”

“Good. His girl ain’t workin’ either.” Joel’s face tenses and his nostrils flare as his gaze falls on Cal. “Cal shouldn’t be here.” Joel has to look away before his rage gets the best of him. Joel glances at a table of his own guys (now Carter's), and he isn’t surprised to see one of his buddies putting on brass knuckles. Ya don’t stab the leader and get away with it, but Joel sure wishes this would go down somewhere else. Joel does a double take when he sees another man at the same table reach for his hip. “Damnit, Harold,” Joel whispers to himself.

“Better hit the boys room ‘fore all hell breaks loose,” Tommy mutters and gets up from his chair.

—---you—--

Tonight’s the first time you’ve spoken with Joel, but you’ve noticed him before. His quiet, dark gaze is hypnotizing. The girls are all over him, and he doesn’t show any interest. He sits there scowling with his drink.

When the chatter of the restaurant abruptly dies down, a pit forms in your stomach. Heavy boots click on the floor, and it sounds like they’re slowly circling the room like sharks. “Hey sweetheart,” Benny croons out of view in that deep, smooth voice. He looks like a young, brunette Elvis. “You new?”

“Started this week,” the new bartender answers bashfully.

“Bet they didn’t teach ya the whole job. Benny'll show ya the ropes,” says a deep voice that makes you bristle. It’s smooth. Southern. Sinister. It's Cal. You can visualize his infectious wink.

One of your cooks puts Joel’s new wing basket on expo. You compose yourself and grab it with a smile. “I’ll take this one.” You put on your blinders and don’t make eye contact with any of the men, but you notice Tommy walk by, headed toward the back.

Before you make it behind the bar, Cal intercepts you. “Whoa, what’s cookin’, baby? You believe this, Benny? Keepin’ top talent locked up in the back.”

Benny’s too wrapped up with the server to respond.

“Thanks for the snack,” Cal tells you with his eyes roving your apron as he reaches for the basket. You pull it back. “Hey, what’s under this, anyway?” He skims your apron from the side and crowds you against the wall. He braces his arm against the wall, over you. “Got one of them sexy uniforms under this?”

“Excuse me,” you say and try to duck under and around him.

“I wouldn’t move, darlin’,” Cal taunts.

“What the hell are you doin’ back here,” a man asks behind Cal.

Cal laughs and looks over his shoulder, and you manage to free yourself.

“Ain’t worth it, Harold,” Joel warns as he approaches, then Joel turns his attention to you. “You okay?”

-. . .-

Joel gets between you and the brawling men. You hear a blow land on someone, and they spit. Then there’s a click, and before you know it, you’re on the floor, tackled by Joel as a gunshot makes your ears ring. The wind is knocked out of you.

Joel is on top of you, and time seems to slow down. Cal is slumped against the wall behind Joel, bleeding from the mouth and chest with a menacing smile.

“Look at me,” Joel says and his massive hand turns your head to face him, bracing his other arm near your head on the tiled floor. “Look at me and only me.” His body is heavy on top of yours.

You nod as chaos unfolds in the dining room.

“You okay?” Joel searches your face.

You nod again, and try to ground yourself with everything you’re physically feeling. The coldness of the tile under your hand. The weight of his body on top of you. The warmth of. . .the massive bulge pressing into your thigh. Joel doesn’t seem to be aware of it, but you sure are now. A wave of desire overwhelms you. Your thigh lifts against his hardening package and it twitches but he still doesn’t seem to notice with everything else going on. He glances behind himself.

“Gonna get ya outta here,” he promises. “Ready?”

Behind you, someone opens the door to the men’s room, belt jingling. “Shit.” You recognize Tommy’s voice.

“Bathroom,” Joel commands as he helps you up, then gently pushes you into Tommy’s arms. He nods toward the family restroom, which has a lock. “Gonna take this outside,” Joel pants as he heads into the fray.

“Joel, don’t–you’re outnumbered, don’t get yourself killed,” Tommy pleads. There’s another gunshot. “Shit, I’ll be right there!” he shouts at Joel

“NO,” Joel barks.

Tommy forces you into the family restroom and locks the door behind the two of you. “You okay?” he asks. You don’t answer. You wouldn’t be able to without crying. He rubs your back, then searches your face. “Breathe for me, darlin’.”

You tug at the high collar of your chef’s apron, trying to unbutton it for relief. Tommy quickly rips it open, exposing your tank top. His eyes linger for a moment, then he cradles your head and takes a deep breath, guiding you in your own breathing. He exhales, then murmurs, “You’re okay, honey.”

You nod and take the apron off entirely, with him supporting you. “Yeah,” you laugh not to cry, but with tears in your eyes. “I’m good.”

“Good, good. C’mere, darlin’.” His strong arms wrap you in a gentle, protective hug, cradling your head into his barrel chest. You take a deep breath, and the scent of his shampoo intoxicates you. “You’re okay,” he repeats.

You pull your head back to look up at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches. Then something else twitches, against your middle. That’s when you feel the denim slide under your hand and realize you’ve grabbed Tommy’s ass. What the fuck. You yank your hand out of his back pocket and stammer “Sorry–” feeling like your face is on fire. Why did you do that? You try to pull away but he gently holds you close.

“‘S’okay,” he chuckles. “Adrenaline. It’s normal.” He dips his head and it’s close to yours. It gets a little closer, then there’s more gunfire and he releases his gentle hold on you. He bolts toward the door. “Lock it behind me” is the only thing he says as he leaves.

You lock the door, then slump down against the wall. Is this real life? What’s gotten into you? Feeling up Tommy Miller in the bathroom less than an hour after you asked his brother out. Yeah, it must be adrenaline. The noise of the fight fades into the background while your thoughts drift back to Joel saving you. He’s so big and strong. So protective. You’ve heard how dangerous he is, but to see him in action? While he’s saving you, no less?

Finally the noises have died down. You wonder if it’s safe to leave. You worry about whether Joel and Tommy and your line cooks are okay. You wait a little longer, then unlock the door and peek your head out. Cal staggers toward you, dripping blood. “It’s okay, I’m alright,” he drawls. Then you swiftly close and lock the door, heart pounding. A few seconds later, boots thud across the dining room and a punch is thrown. You hear Cal groan. “C’mon, man.” Another blow lands and Cal goes silent. There’s a knock at the bathroom door.

“It’s me.” Joel’s voice. You’re still near the door. You unlock it for him. He comes inside and you must look terrified. He holds your cheeks, and his face and shirt are splattered with blood - surely not his own. He hugs you into him. “It’s me, baby. You’re okay.” His voice is deep and soft. He holds you for a minute. When he pulls back again to look at you, his eyes fall to your tank top and he wets his lips. He looks in your eyes again, then at your mouth.

You close the distance with a soft kiss. Joel’s mouth spreads your lips open, and his tongue finds yours. As the kiss heats up, he pulls you tighter, moaning “Mm,” and you feel it again, you feel him. His hands slide down to grab your ass, pulling your hips into his, and he’s firmer. Lord, is he hung. He lets out a low growl from his chest, and he walks forward against you until the backs of his hands nudge the sink counter – thankfully clean.

He bends down and his mouth latches onto your neck. He slips his fingertips into the front waistband of your pants, grabbing the button, then pulls away from your neck to pleadingly meet your eyes, and you nod urgently. He takes your pants and underwear down in a flash, then his hand engulfs your bare pussy and he groans at how wet you are. He kisses your neck again for a moment before hooking his massive hands, one of them wet, around the backs of your thighs. He lifts you onto the sink with a grunt as your legs wrap around him and you feel a rush of desire.

Joel sloppily kisses around your mouth with one hand between your legs and the other cradling your head. His scruff scratches you pleasantly. You grope him through his jeans, which are slick with your arousal, as you unbutton and unzip him. Then his own hand dives into his boxers and frees his thick cock, holding it at the right angle to slide right into you, pants and boxers resting below his balls.

“C’mere, baby.” He runs his stiff cock through your folds and you slowly grind against it with a moan. He spits on his shaft and his swollen, leaking tip prods at your entrance for only a moment before plunging into your wet hole and spreading your insides with his girth. There’s a brief burn, then your body catches up. On his second go, he bottoms out with a groan, and you gasp.

“Yeah,” he sighs and begins to fuck you, slowly at first. “How’s that?”

You can only nod, feeling so full of him you can hardly listen or form thoughts. “Ohh,” you whimper as he stuffs you with his massive cock. Your skin feels hot. He speeds up to a moderate pace and you both moan and grunt as you fuck. He kisses and sucks your neck, moaning into your skin, then he breathes against it. He fucks you harder, deeper

“How’s it feel, baby–ohhh” He slams his pelvis into yours each time.

“Ohhh, God, it’s, yeah, nngh–ohh”

Footsteps come down the hall, and stop outside the door.

“Wait,” you whisper.”

“Want me to wait?” he whispers teasingly, slowing down to an excruciating pace, dragging slow and heavy inside you.

You shake your head no.

“Good,” he whispers.

Tommy’s knowing voice outside the door: “Catch y’all later.” Then the footsteps recede.

“Now please, please” you beg, wanting it harder again. You pull him close and grind your pelvis into his in just the right spot. “Ohh, Joel.” The pleasure overwhelms you and you whimper as you begin to clench and pulse.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “Where do you want it?”

“Right here,” you nod, pulling him closer, keeping him inside with your legs around him.

Joel erupts with a groan, filling your hot, wet cunt with warm bursts, slowly thrusting into you as he empties his balls.

“God damn, you’re somethin’ else.”

---a few weeks later—

"Ain't wearin' a stupid holiday sweater," Joel grumbles. You and Joel have been seeing each other, and now you're going to Tommy’s holiday party with him.

"C'mon, just for the party. It'll be fun," you smile hopefully.

"Gimme a break, baby. Nothin' fun about sweaters."

"Don't be a Grinch," you pout.

"Thought I was a Scrooge," he retorts.

"What if I let you fuck me in Tommy's bed?"

He squints at you. "God damnit, my heart just grew three sizes."

You look down at his jeans and smile saucily. You don't have to make the joke out loud. "Can't wait," you purr and hand him the sweater.

"Tommy'd lose his mind," Joel shakes his head, then raises his eyebrows. "And not in the bad way."

"Oh yeah?"

Joel gives a low whistle. "You should see him droolin' when ya walk away." Joel chuckles, and your face heats up.

"Well. Maybe we shouldn't, then. . ."

"Don't see why not," Joel shrugs.

You look away shyly.

"What's got you all flustered?"

"Nothing," you shake your head, but you can't push away the thought of Tommy walking in and losing his 'mind.'

Joel smirks. "Don't look like nothin'."

"Just excited to see you in a sweater," you run your hand through his curls.

"I ain't the jealous type if ya wanna give Tommy some sugar, too."

You gasp and can't hide your embarrassed smile. Your face is burning. "He told you.”

Joel plays stupid. “Told me what?”

Your hand drifts up to cover your mouth.

“Just sayin’, if ya wanna grab him in a nicer setting. . .”

“Joel!" You gently smack his chest.

“Musta been the highlight of his life,” Joel laughs. “Post-divorce, at least.”

"Naughty list for you." You press his sweater into his chest and go to the closet to change into your own.

----

When you’re standing at the door of Tommy’s ranch, your heart is racing.

“Relax, baby.” He rubs your back.

“You were serious?” you ask.

“Yeah, but ya don’t gotta. Just sayin’ it’s fair game.”

Your eyes meet and he cups your cheek. You whisper, “thanks for wearing the sweater.”

Joel gives you a kiss right as the door opens, and Tommy teases, “You two need a room already?” Tommy’s wearing a festive cardigan open over a wifebeater and his huge belt buckle. He stands aside to let you in, and you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your mouth.

Sarah brings her husband, and you spend much of the night talking to them, hearing old stories about Joel. It’s a small party, adults only, and most of the parents have to get home to their babysitters, but Ellie is staying at Bill and Frank’s for the week to help with their Christmas tree farm. It’s a real treat for her and also her first “job.”

—

You don’t steal Joel away during the party, and he doesn’t try either. But when everyone else is gone, you and Joel stay for a drink with Tommy. He offers that you’re welcome to stay over since the kids are with Maria.

“Where ya want us?” Joel asks.

“Well, my bed’s the most comfy,” Tommy looks at you and adds a wink that gives you butterflies.

Joel nods with an intrigued frown. “Whatcha think, honey?”

“Okay,” you nod. You’re afraid to act too eager, but can hardly believe your luck.

In Tommy’s room, Tommy reclines on the bed, while Joel holds you in a hug. Joel turns your chin to meet his eyes and asks “Comfortable?”

You nod and smile.

“Ready to be even more comfortable?”

Joel kisses you gently, sensually. Then his lips become hungrier, and you lose yourself in his rising desperation. He moans into your mouth and pulls you closer against him. He walks against you until you’re at the bed, and when you glance back to make sure you don’t fall, you see Tommy reclining with his ankles crossed, palming himself over his jeans. He holds your gaze and begins to undo that big belt buckle, and you get a rush of arousal.

With you seated on the bed and Joel looms over you. The curves of his hulking muscles stretch his sweater. Your eyes fall to his jeans, and you can see the outline of his massive erection. You reach for the button and he murmurs, “yeah, there ya go,” and affectionately cradles your head while you unbutton and unzip him. Then he takes his sweater off over his head and his under-tee rides up exposing his happy trail. “Let’s get that sweater off, Tommy.”

You turn around and see Tommy is on all fours with his cardigan already off. He’s prowling across the bed, to the foot of it where you sit. Tommy sits up on his knees behind you, and wraps his arms around. He lifts at the bottom hem of your sweater and brings his mouth to your ear to murmur, “Yeah, let’s get comfortable.” You raise your arms and he takes off the sweater for you then cups your breasts. You pull off your bra from under your tank top while Joel takes off his jeans.

“Shit, let’s take it all off,” Tommys says with his voice briefly muffled by his wifebeater as he pulls it over his head. “Nothin’ like three bare bodies all twisted up.” His giant belt clinks as he unbuckles it behind you. Joel steps out of his jeans, leaving the tent in his boxers on full display, making you gush. He bends down to help take your tank top off, then he kisses you as he unfastens your pants. Joel kisses down your body as he removes your pants and underwear.

“Come on up here,” Tommy mutters and wraps an arm around you. He pulls you up toward the pillows, then stacks them behind himself and pulls you between his legs where you can feel he is fully nude and hard. His skin is hot and smooth. You're both facing Joel.

You sit between Tommy’s moderately hairy legs, and his broad palms cup your naked breasts. “How ya doin’, darlin’?” he whispers into your ear. His cock twitches against your lower back. “Ready for my brother?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

“He’s ready too.”

Joel is kneeling onto the bed with his commanding cock in hand. He pauses to squeeze himself, eyes roving over you like you’ve never looked hotter. “Look like an angel, baby. Can’t wait to be in ya.” Tommy lightly grinds himself against your lower back, then his hands come to your thighs, and you spread them open for Joel.

“Always so good,” Joel mumbles, then kisses you deeply and you feel his cock run through your dripping seam. You’re wet, so wet for him. He’s still kissing you, letting your lips separate every second or so. His face pulls back and Tommy slightly adjusts you between his legs. Tommy’s cock is stiff against your back. Joel’s tip nudges your entrance, then he pushes himself into you. Tommy’s hands are still on your breasts. Joel leans over you, bracing his hands on the bed to either side of Tommy’s thighs. It still makes you swoon how his big cock stuffs you full. As Joel thrusts into you, Tommy ruts against you, moaning softly. The force of Joel’s thrusts makes you rub against Tommy’s stiff manhood and he groans.

“Feel so good, baby,” Joel breathes.

“Take’ him so well,” Tommy whispers.

Your breath hitches and you moan into Joel’s mouth with his cock dragging thickly deep inside you. Tommy massages your breasts and grinds into you while Joel kisses you and fucks you good. It feels better and better every minute. Joel dips his hips and grinds against your front as he stuffs you with his cock. You feel the tension building in your belly, and your clit twitches.

You tear your mouth away from Joel’s and whine, “Joel.”

“Oh, baby, gonna cum already?”

You whimper and nod.

“It’s okay, baby. Go ‘head,” Tommy whispers.

“Yeah, let it happen, baby,” Joel agrees.

Then Joel, with his cock still seated inside you, rolls his hips to put more pressure on your front, and Tommy grinds against your lower back, and you clench down on Joel’s cock with a moan.

“Oh, Fuck,” Joel whispers and he begins to pulse at the exact same time you feel Tommy erupt against you. The three of you come in a cacophony of grunts and moans and Tommy’s sliding wetly against your crack as his cum trickles down.

Joel stays inside as he catches his breath, then slides out of you, and some of his cum drips down between Tommy’s legs.

“Think ya might be the one I been lookin' for,” Joel mumbles. He gives you a slow kiss.

You get cleaned up, then you sleep like three spoons stacked together with Joel in front.

===

Thank you for reading!

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

#pedrostoriesgift23 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader x tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #biker!joel #toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller x afab!reader #tommy miller x afab!reader #the bikeriders #the bikeriders x reader #bikeriders cal #the bikeriders cal

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pinkypromisepascal · 4 months ago

Text

Handiwork - Jim Hopper x fem!reader

summary: Hopper shows up with a nasty cut so you lend a helping a hand and patch him up.

content: MDNI ofc, friends to lovers, subby!Hop, Hop has a hand kink, just minor descriptions of the cut, handjob, cum eating (oops), no physical description of reader except for pretty hands and jewelry

author's note: I had so many people look at this, thank you so much @strang3lov3 @umnitsa @endlessthxxghts @ievutebebe for looking at this and helping me work this out! Also I know the moodboard and title say fem!reader but technically this can be seen as gn!reader too, fem!reader's just my default mode.

word count: 2.6k

You got home from work four hours ago, ready to bask in the comfort of your small home in Hawkins. Despite the beautiful sunny weather outside, you find yourself more comfortable on your couch with a big cup of your favorite tea and a new book you've been dying to read.

You haven't moved an inch in the last hour, too engrossed in the book's plot. A sharp knock at your door pulls you out of your thoughts. You have no clue who it is, but you don't wanna be rude and ignore the person, so you get up with a tired sigh and open the door, only to find Jim Hopper looking down at you, pressing a bloodied tissue to his head.

"Hop, hi, I-... wow, what happened?"

Jim looks at you, his blue eyes kind and warm as always when he's with you. "Might have gotten into a little brawl at the bar," he admits sheepishly with a little eye roll.

You step aside and let him in. "For good reason at least?"

He shrugs, "Just had to handle a drunk guy and you know... some glass broke." You take a look at him, peeling the tissue away just enough to look at the cut going diagonally from his left eyebrow. "Thought you might come in handy, I'm out of gauze," he says dryly, "And I really don't need a hospital bill right now."

Fair enough, you think.

He wordlessly follows you to the bathroom and just lets his eyes follow you as you gather the supplies you'll need. He notices the ring on your index finger, the one he got you for your birthday a few months back. He'd never admit to it, but he's always been a little fascinated by your hands. And that fascination has gotten stronger over the last few months. He never really thought about hands that much, what they might say about people, but he's watched yours take care of El's scraped knee, watched them pet stray cats, seen those fingers wrap around a bottle of beer at his place. When he looks at his own hands, he just thinks of them as burly, callused.

But yours? They’re soft, gentle, even in the most mundane of tasks.

He snaps out of his thoughts when you clear your throat and turn around again, putting stuff on the vanity behind him. You cock your head and chuckle, "Need you to get a little more on my level, big guy." It takes a second for him to get the hint, but then he puts the bloodied tissue aside and sits down on the toilet lid, legs spread so you can step between them. You nod approvingly and can't hide a little smirk at the height difference between you two. Neither can he.

You grab a small towel and hold it under running water for a second before gently dabbing at the cut, cleaning the dried blood. He hums and closes his eyes. "Sorry," you mumble, your other hand tilting his head a little to get a better look at the cut. He feels the rings on his skin and suppresses a noise in his throat. The corner of his mouth twitches, "No, 's the cold that feels nice." "Enjoy the cold, only gets worse from here," you quip and snort when his eyes snap open. "Just some antiseptic and a few stitches, you can handle it. You're in good hands with me." "Hm, never doubted that," he retorts and closes his eyes again.

You pat the wound dry with another and then reach for the antiseptic, putting some of it onto a sterile gauze compress and then gently holding and dabbing it against the wound. He hums again and clears his throat in discomfort. "Ah come on, you've had worse," you tease softly. He smirks again and nudges your leg with his, "Shut up." "You shut up."

He feels a shiver down his spine when you carefully touch the area around the cut, checking for swelling or signs of infection. He slowly takes a deep breath, careful so you don't notice his tension. He feels the blood rushing through his body, his thoughts running a mile a minute. “You’re always so gentle with your hands,” he mutters softly, and you thank him bashfully. You mumble something, asking if he’s still good. When he opens his eyes, he catches your gaze, your eyes still warm despite the cold white light of your bathroom.

"Hope I'm not ruining your evening plans with this," he suddenly says. You put the compress aside and scoff, "Please, we both know I don't have plans. You're basically my highlight of the day." He cocks his eyebrow, immediately squinting as he feels the pain from the currently bad side of his face, "Oh really?" You smile proudly at him, "Mhm."

His heart skips a beat. If only you knew the effect you're having on him right now. He hasn't always felt for you like this, recently things have just been feeling different. He feels more at ease with himself. He's trying to allow himself a little more fun again, a little more peace. And in all the years he's known you, he can't remember when your presence hasn't brightened his day. You've always been the highlight of his day.

He smiles at you, and you realize your hand is still on his cheek like before. You pull away and take a deep breath, "Okay, so... stitching's gonna be a bitch." Hop just shrugs, "Someone told me I've had worse, so I think I can handle it." You laugh and nudge his belly with the back of your hand, "Can't be in too much pain if y'keep making bad jokes." The shiver runs from his spine between his legs. Jesus Christ.

He's drifting off again, gone in his thoughts about you, about your hands, your hands on him while you're so close to him, so focused on your task. He's sure you can hear how wild his heart is thumping in his chest, or feel the fluttering of his pulse in his neck where your hand is resting again, keeping his head in place and occasionally tilting it towards the light. And he hopes you don't look down. Anything but that. He's dying to move, to let his hands feel yours, feel them on his body, eagerly exploring him.

You say something, but he doesn't hear what, he's too far gone, imagining what it would be like to feel those heavenly hands wrapped around his co— A snap in front of his face brings him back yet again.

"Sorry, what?" You tut, "What's got you so distracted today? Did you hit your head during that fight? I was asking if you feel any pain." He suppresses a groan, then swallows and only replies with "No." Somehow the pain only makes him crazier for you. "Good, then you're all done," you say with a smile and start putting the supplies back.

Jim tries to shake off his thoughts without making his head throb too much and gets up, now leaning with his lower back against the vanity, right next to you. "How many times can I come here 'fore you start charging me?" You chuckle to yourself at first, and his heart skips a beat again. As you look at him, you only now notice his busted lip and grab the still damp towel to wipe the dried blood off, standing between his legs, then wipe your thumb along the spot. "You're free to show up here anytime, big guy," you smile, and he's sure you don't mean to sound so sultry. Maybe it's his mind playing tricks on him. Still, there's no more denying the near painful strain in his jeans now. He's hoping you don't feel it, almost embarrassed about it. Any move to adjust himself will just draw your attention to it.

"Much appreciated," he replies smugly as you look at him. Everything about you is just—

"You seem awfully tense, you okay? Feeling dizzy or something?" He cocks his head slightly and bites the inside of his cheek, crossing his arms in front of his big chest. "Little headache," he lies.

You smirk at him, "Hm, little headache or maybe something else bothering you?"

Before he can ask what you mean, he feels your hand press against the outline of his cock, making him draw in a breath.

Jackpot.

You can almost see his thoughts racing behind his gorgeous eyes. You close your hand around him, just a bit, and the corner of his mouth twitches. He's uncrossed his arms, his hands gripping the vanity's edge as he stares you down. Your eyebrow cocks up, challenging, daring him.

Your heart's beating in your throat, and you can feel his body heat. Part of you doesn't know if what you're doing is wrong, if you should talk about what's happening or just stop right here and never speak of it again. This is definitely crossing a line and you don't know how things will be after. Yet another part is screaming at you to keep going, and you think he feels the same.

"You need me to take a look at this, too?" You ask, your voice suddenly quiet, a new undertone to it that Hop hasn't heard from you yet. You're getting cocky. He risks a quick look down to where your hand, smooth against the raging boner that's been straining his pants for at least fifteen minutes now, the ring he gifted you staring back at him. Oh, fuck. He clasps his big hand over yours and looks into your eyes again. God, yes. There's a glimmer in your eyes that almost undoes him then and there. "Don't look at me like that," he mutters.

His mind is racing, blood rushing through his body. He bites back a groan when you move your hand beneath his, your fingertips reaching his belt buckle. "What's wrong with how I look at you?"

He ignores your question, you're just teasing him right now, enjoying how he's losing himself. "You're what's distracting me. You and your damn hands." "My hands?"

He nods slowly and swallows. His body is screaming for some friction, some relief to the craziness that is this situation. You move your hand again and he lets it go, never breaking eye contact. You unbuckle his belt, popping the button of his jeans open. “You don’t have to–,” he starts, but you tut him. "What is it about my hands?" You ask innocently as you shove your fingertips behind the waistband of his boxers, slowly dragging them and his pants down just enough to wrap your hand around him. He breathes out with a hum as you oh so slowly drag your hand along his length, eyes fluttering close.

"This okay?"

He huffs out a laugh, not daring to look at you right now, his grip on the vanity tightening, "Yeah. More'n okay." "Now tell me what's so interesting about my hands that it's got you rock hard like this, Hopper," you say, and he can hear the damn smile in your voice. Your thumb wipes over the tip before you drag your hand down again, picking up the pace just a bit. He shakes his head and opens his eyes again to look at you. Oh, you're enjoying this a lot. His jaw tightens as he tries to find the right words. "Shut up," he grunts. "Aw, come on," you insist with a cheeky smile, "Just wanna know what goes on in that dirty Chief of Police mind of yours. What more is there when just my hands got you like this, hm?" You tighten your grip for a moment, and his belly tightens, keeping him from making a sound.

You murmur sweet nothings, encouraging him to indulge in his thoughts. His gaze drops down to your hand stroking him. “Your rings, fuck–” He loses his words as you twist your wrist just the right way, his knuckles turning white as he’s gripping the edge with all his power. “Oh, do you want me to take them off? Are they uncomfor–?” “No,” he replies, hips slightly moving towards your touch, a low groan rumbling in his chest, “Keep’em on.” “You like how they feel?” You ask. He takes another deep breath, focusing on just letting your hand work him. “Like how they look on you. ‘Specially that one,” he rumbles and you know which one he’s talking about. You bite the inside of your lip, but the smile still spreads as you look at him. “Hm, wonder why,” you muse, picking up your speed, urging him closer to the edge. He clears his throat hastily, “Don’t play stupid, you fucking know why.”

You stroke him faster, noticing his breath faltering a bit. One of his arms slings around your waist, pulling you closer to him to lean his forehead against yours, cussing under his breath. His hooded gaze bores into yours with such a carnal need and longing, almost making you lose momentum. Your free hand drifts up his torso, toying with the top button of his shirt and slowly popping it open, letting your fingertips lightly dance over his warm skin. Jim’s hips buck into your hand again and his eyes flutter close, he’s drawing in a sharp breath. ��Tease,” he growls, followed by a short, breathless laugh. You chuckle softly, “What’s the matter, big guy?” He looks at you again, a light sparkle in his eyes, “Matter’s that I– hm, won’t be able t’stop myself ‘f you keep this up.”

“Then don’t.”

He scans your face for any signs of hesitation and just finds that maddening smile of yours again. His legs and belly tighten. His other hand cups your face and smashes your lips together for a heated, bruising kiss. His mustache scratches against your skin and you whimper at feeling him nip your bottom lip. Your body freezes momentarily, and you’re only brought back to reality by Jim’s hand wrapping around yours, tightening your grip around him even more, and moving your hand with his. “Just like that,” he hushes into your mouth and with a few more quick strokes the tension in his body finally snaps. He’s kissing you again, muffling his broken moan, tongue swiping over your lip.

You keep your fingers wrapped just below his tip, changing the grip in small pulses. Your thumb swipes over the sensitive head, making him shudder through his release, his warmth coating your hand and shirt. Your other hand is resting above his racing heart, beating so fast you’re worried he’s gonna be dizzy. He slowly tears his lips from yours, his thumb wiping softly over your cheek.

His eyes flick down for a second and his face flushes. “Sorry ‘bout the mess. Usually have better manners than that.” You look down and snort, tugging at your shirt, “Ah, this old thing’s seen worse.“ You smile as you bring your glistening fingers up, “As for these…”

Jim watches breathlessly as your tongue darts out to lick over each digit, releasing each with a wet pop. “You‘re enjoying yourself a lot right now,“ he notes with a smirk, smoothly tucking himself away. An innocent shrug is the only answer he gets. He rolls his eyes in feigned annoyance and clicks his tongue.

You grab his face to pull him in for another kiss. He can taste himself on your lips, feeling the blood rush through his body again, his fingertips tingling with eagerness to touch you. His hands drop to the hem of your shirt, fingers slipping beneath, shoving the fabric up your torso. You raise your arms, letting him go all the way till he tosses your shirt aside, lips immediately locking together again. You chuckle.

“Not done with you yet,” he hums with a content sigh, “Time for payback.” “Careful with that, big guy, you’re still hurt.” He pecks your lips and smirks, “Thought we’d agreed I’ve had worse?”

I'm a slut for feedback so don't hold back and tell me how you liked this! Like, comment, reblog, slide in my asks, whatever you prefer! Thank you for reading, I hope you're eager for more.

#jim hopper x reader #pinkysfics #jim hopper x fem!reader #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper smut #stranger things fanfic

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wannab-urs · 4 months ago

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Don’t look at me. I’m having a moment. Maybe several at once. This is so god damn hot. and their banter is everything. and i am humbly begging for more.

Biology

“Uncle”!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 5.4k

Summary: Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals.

Content/Warnings: able-bodied, female sex anatomy, and inherently fem!reader. No description of reader, everything is neutral (ex. “your bottoms,” “the curve of you” — nothing is specific in the way “you” are described). Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel in 50s). EXPLICIT MATERIAL PRESENT. HEED THE WARNINGS. WEIRD boundaries are crossed…you're not blood-related to Joel, but you were raised like you were. You call him “uncle.” Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, etc.). Pussy pronouns (she). Innocent touches until it isn't. Sexual tension galore. Slight dub-con. Icky Joel. Icky reader. Pussy grinding. Dirty talk. Slight degradation (“bitch” is used only once). Multiple orgasms. P in V unprotected. Reader is on top. Lots of teasing about the nature of yours and Joel’s relationship. If there’s anything that should be up here but I missed or I made any improper tags, please let me know!

A/N: Hi, my loves! This is slightly different than what you’re used to coming from me… All I can say is, you’ve read the warnings! Don’t bite if it is not your flavor! But for those who do like, I really hope you enjoy! And to my love @strang3lov3, thank you for prompting this and encouraging this side of my brain to finally stop hiding in the shadows. And thank you for your eyes on this and the mood board as well. I love you.🩶

masterlist | notifs blog

“Hey, hon, when you headin’ over to uncle Joel’s?”

You glance at the timer on the oven. “In about ten minutes after these cookies cool. Need something from me?”

“Can ya grab my toolbox before ya leave? Forgot it there the other day,” he replies. “Figured you could get it since you’re already goin’ there today.”

“Sure thing. It’s not the heavy one, is it? Because I don’t know if that old man’s back is ready for a heavy lift like that yet.” The timer on the oven beeps. You slide on your oven mitts to pull the tray out. “Made two batches by the way. How many you want? I’m taking some to Uncle’s, too.”

About a week ago, Joel had a contracting accident. Some newbie wasn’t watching the older man’s back as Joel climbed up a wobbly ladder, and the next moment, Joel’s footing slipped. He landed right on his lower back, a piece of wood perched on the ground, sitting at just the right spot on the floor to render him immobile. Tommy, Joel’s younger brother, and your father, his best friend since before you were born, are the only two Joel trusts to get the job done perfectly, so Joel put them two in charge until he heals.

Bed rest, the doctor had ordered Joel, for at least three weeks. It’s been one so far, but with you offering to be his nurse — one that forces him to stay in bed unless he needs to eat or use the restroom — he thinks he just might be back to work by next week. If you’ll let him, that is.

“No, it’s the small one, hon, you got it,” your father reassures you. He lovingly slaps his growing belly as the trays hit the kitchen counter. “Y’know, darlin’, ever since you moved back, I’ve been gainin’ some weight. Can’t imagine what you’re doin’ t’ Joel over there.”

Your lip pulls up in a smirk. “Joel is in good hands, y’know. And technically, I don’t have to leave you any,” you say with a challenging brow, pulling the cookie trays out of his reach.

“No, no, I’m not sayin’ that,” your father’s eyebrows raise in worry. His daily cookie is very important to him. “You can leave me like… five… or six.”

“I’m just gonna leave you a whole batch. The six are gonna be gone before I even leave the house,” you tell your father as his hand subconsciously reaches for the cookie tray.

He scoffs, “Ya have no faith in me.”

“So what’s in your hand already?”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, walking away with a mouthful of warm cookie dough and melted milk chocolate chips.

“Uh huh,” you yell back. “Gonna be leaving in just a sec. I’ll see you later.”

It takes less than ten minutes to get to your uncle’s house. You unlock the door using the spare key he gave you as a teenager, and immediately, nurse mode is activated.

“Uncle Joel!” You yell, exasperated. He turns around from his place in the kitchen, painfully slow. He’s going to make his back worse. “What do you think you’re doing?” You place the fresh cookies on his dining table along with your keys. You cross your arms angrily for good measure.

“My coffee’s cold. I was warmin’ it up,” he huffs, annoyed.

“Bed, please.” Your hands find his waist, and you guide him back to his room. “You know I’m here around this time. You didn’t wanna call me first to see where I was?”

You ease him in a sitting position at the edge of his bed. He grunts as his ass meets the mattress. He grumbles his response. “Need to start gettin’ back to everythin’ independently, y’know that, don’tcha?”

“Is your memory going with your back, too, unc?”

“‘Scuse me?” He looks at you incredulously.

“Three weeks were the doctor’s orders. Not one,” you tell him, putting your foot down.

He lays himself down with another wince at the motion, no acknowledgement to your words. God, he’s so stubborn.

“I’ll go make you a fresh cup,” you tell him, feeling sympathetic for the man. His work is his life, and it’s not going to get any easier with age.

Making your way back to his kitchen, you wash out the coffee pitcher, replace the grounds and the filter, and do some light cleaning as you wait for the bitter, brown liquid to brew.

It’s only been five minutes since you returned to the kitchen, and the painful moans and groans from his bedroom have only gotten louder. You search around the place and find the heat pack you bought a few days ago and pop it in the microwave. You grab some pain meds, fill up a glass of water, and just in time, the microwave sings to you, telling you your contents are ready.

Ignoring the coffee for a moment, you make your way back to Joel’s bedroom. His eyes are closed, but his entire body is tensed up in pain. Poor guy. You knock at his door to catch his attention before entering. “Unc?”

One eye peels open. “Yes, nurse?”

“Funny.” A sarcastic laugh leaves your throat. “Come take these.”

He makes no move to get up.

You set the painkillers and the water on his bedside table, the heat pack wedged underneath your armpit. You start to reach for Joel to help him up, but he stops you. “I got it,” he grunts. You let him have this win.

You hand him the glass of water first, then the pills. He swallows the painkillers in one big gulp, swallowing down the rest of the water in another. He eyes the heat pack in your arm.

“Do you want-”

“Yes,” he says immediately, reaching for the soft warmth.

“Lay down first, I’ll put it underneath you.”

Without another word, he positions himself. His body jerks when your soft hand slips underneath his back, pushing him to lift a little while you slide the heat underneath. “This okay?”

“Mhm,” he forces out, eyes clamped shut. It’s not okay, you think.

“How would you feel on your stomach?” you suggest.

“Dunno. Never tried.”

“Well, then.” You set the heat pack down, and it’s your turn to crawl, uninvited, into his bed. You walk on your knees towards the opposite, unoccupied side, adjusting the pillows in a way you think might be the most comfortable. This isn’t your first rodeo dealing with an old man’s back; you’ve got your dad. This is, however, your first rodeo dealing with an old man more stubborn than a screaming goat not getting his way. “Come on.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“That ain’t gonna be comfortable.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath. “I swear to God. I will flip your ass over myself if I have to.”

“You’re bossy,” he spits.

“So you’ve said.”

Not giving him a chance to prepare, you hook your one hand at his side and your other on his hip, and you pull him towards you. It doesn’t fully flip him over, but it does the trick in getting him to finish the rest of the action himself — albeit, with a very strained yelp from the back of his throat.

He groans for a few minutes more as you adjust some flat pillows underneath his belly and then prop the lukewarm heating back right at the base of his spine. You’ll probably have to heat it up in ten minutes again, but it’ll do for now. You stay in your spot for a minute, and already his pained noises begin to subside.

“Better?” You know it is. You just want him to admit it.

And when a single huff with zero protests from the grumpy man reverberates around the room, you know you’ve won this round.

“I’ll go get your coffee now,” you hum.

A soft rasp of your name has you spinning back around as you reach the room’s threshold.

“Hm?”

“Thanks,” he tells you.

“It’s what I’m here for, unc.”

You put his fresh cup of coffee in a thermos this time. You can’t imagine how often he’ll get up being in this position, but at least the freshness will be there with every sip he does end up taking.

“How’s it going?” You ask him as you set his coffee nearby. You feel the heat pack on his spine, and it’s as you called it to be by now: room temperature. “Want me to reheat it?”

“‘M okay,” he replies, voice groggy. He must’ve fallen asleep.

“Okay.” You stand there for a moment. You can tell the heat helped, but his body isn’t entirely relaxed. He’s still tense, as if a nerve or something is being pinched.

You recall your memory from a while ago before you moved back with your dad. Your brother, who is a mixed martial arts athlete, had a sparring session that hurt his back, nearly in the same area as Joel. He had you running his massage gun over his muscles nearly every night for a month straight. “It needs to uncoil somehow,” he told you. An idea crosses your mind then.

You saunter to Joel’s en suite bathroom in search of some type of lubricant. Sitting loud and proud on the center of the bathroom counter is a little bottle of Equate’s Personal Liquid Lubricant. Your brain falters for a second, the bottle of lube throwing you off your original plan. That is absolutely not the kind of lubricant you were looking for. Shaking away the image from your mind, you bend down to look in the cabinets underneath. Bingo, a bottle of Aveeno body lotion. This should do.

You invite yourself onto his bed for the second time today. “Let me give you a massage.”

“What?” His head turns to you now, utterly confused. He definitely heard you wrong, he thinks.

“Let me give you a massage,” you repeat. “It’ll help.”

A massage actually does sound nice right now. But you’ve been nothing but bossy this last week while Joel lays here helplessly. He’s bored. And he’s had enough. “It ain’t gonna help.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

Jesus. Haven’t you had this conversation before? You mentally slap your forehead. Again, leaving him no other options, you reach for his flannel atop his shoulders and begin to pull them down.

“Hey, hey, wait, now what in the hell-” He tries to stifle back a laugh as he wriggles in your hold, trying to playfully push you off without hurting himself more in the process.

You quickly release his clothes, hands up in surrender where he can see them. You’re just realizing now just how forward your action must’ve been. “How am I gonna massage you-”

The embarrassment written all over your face has Joel tearing up as he tries to hold his wheezing laugh in. With his eyebrow quirked at you, he responds, “If you wanted me naked, kiddo-”

“Jesus, ew! Really?” An unbearable heat spreads across your cheeks. Your eyes are downcast, looking everywhere else but him. “It- it’ll be better if I can directly touch-”

Only then do you feel the bed shaking with his laughter. He’s fucking with you. And here you were, about to offer something that would relieve a whole lot of pain. “Oh, fuck you,” you scoff, pulling yourself up and making your way off of his bed.

“No, okay, wait,” he laughs, trying to catch his breath. “Jus’ messin’ with you, who am I to deny a massage?” He raises his eyebrows once, twice. Still messing with you, seeing how far his taunting with you can go.

“You’re disgusting,” you deadpan.

“‘M not the one tryin’ t’ massage her uncle,” Joel says as he attempts to shrug his shoulders at you.

“I’m gonna leave now.” One foot makes it to the ground before Joel speaks again.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, ya can’t take a joke? I’m only messin’ around. Come back. Gonna leave me hangin’? In pain? C’mon, nurse.” His tone falls softer, sweeter. You can hear the shit-eating grin in his words. And, fuck, why is it making you heat even further, in places beyond your face? In places you shouldn’t be?

“Fine,” you relent. “Stop saying weird shit then.” You still can’t look at him. Not after the way your body decided to react in the shift of energy. An abrupt shift of energy, as far as you can tell.

He’s your dad’s best friend. Your uncle, for crying out loud. Not by blood, but still. There’s never been a feeling beyond that. Sure, you’ve had your silly little school girl crush on him during your young teenage years, but that was your hormones being your hormones. You grew out of them. Even your own father can’t deny the conventional attractiveness of his best friend.

Plus, suggestive commentary is bound to make anyone feel hot. It’s basic biology. Your response is nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. At least, that’s what you convince yourself of when you climb back into your uncle’s— no, into Joel’s bed, trying to ignore the way your panties stick dutifully against your throbbing core.

Joel leans onto his side as you get yourself situated, unbuttoning the bottom half of his flannel, so you can flip up the bottom to reach his lower back. After the bottom half of the buttons are undone, he lays back on his front. “Here,” he calls your name. “Jus’ lift it up from the bottom.”

You scoot closer to him, standing on your knees, and you reach over to grab the hem of his flannel, pulling it up as gently as possible, exposing just enough to be able to reach the irritated areas. You frown at what you see. Inflamed skin, purples and yellows dancing all across his lower back, forcing him away from the very thing he lives for. He may have been a stubborn bitch this entire week, but that doesn’t stop the sympathy you feel for the man.

You put some of the lotion in your hand, rubbing it between your two palms to warm it up a little. You place your hand on the side closest to you first, moving in circular motions and adjusting your pressure ever so often. “Let me know when the pressure is good.”

So far he hasn’t said much, a slight groan here, an exhale there. You feel a knot as you move lower, so you increase your pressure. You’re met with a literal moan, and you swear you have to bite back your own vocal response. “Fuck,” he sucks in a sharp breath. “Yeah, jus’ like that, ‘s perfect, darlin’.”

“Okay,” you squeak, your thighs clenching together to attempt any kind of relief to the heat between your legs.

After a few more passes over the area — and a few more indulgent, harder presses of your palm to pull more angelic sounds from him — you switch to the other side. Except, at this angle, you don’t really have as good an angle as you did before. Your leg swings over his ass, bracketing him in between your thighs, before you can even register the move your body just made. A soft gasp falls from your lips as you feel the new angle you’ve just given yourself.

“Joel?” You call sweetly. Innocently.”I- I’m not hurting you or anything, am I?”

Hurting? No. Putting him through Hell? Close enough.

Joel has done many questionable things in his lifetime. Getting involved with taken (married or otherwise) women, couples who wanted a third… Joel has lived through it all. Mainly in his younger years, but nevertheless. He has done and seen many things. But none of these things have ever included getting a fucking hard on for a girl — a woman? — he practically had a hand in raising. You call him uncle, for crying out loud.

His physical response means nothing. It’s basic biology. The tender yet skilled touch of your warm hands directly against his even hotter skin, lighting every single nerve ending on fire, forcing the blood to course through his veins, to make its way down south—

“Christ-” he snarls as you practically sit on him. His mouth shuts instantly as his eyes shoot open. He didn’t mean for that to come out. “Y-yeah,” he corrects. “‘M alright.”

“Just- just let me know,” you tell him. He can hear the shake in your voice. He can tell biology is doing a number on you, too, based on your tone alone, if the heat engulfing his rear as you try your best not to make contact with it isn’t enough to go by.

He focuses on his breathing as best he can as your hands push slightly past his jeans, getting underneath the seam of his boxers, and then immediately softening your touch as you run your fingers up his spine, awaking a chill he never knew was possible until now. You rub beyond the exposed area of his lower back, reaching his shoulder blades and entirely up to his shoulders, forcing the flannel to rise with your hands. He’s so broad and warm, and you would absolutely be drooling all over him by now if you weren’t so shocked at how tight his muscles really feel. How has this man not gotten any injuries sooner? How was he still doing all this heavy lifting? You dig the pads of your finger tips further into the thousands of tiny knots you feel, and his body jerks in actual pain this time.

“God damn, girl,” he snaps. “What are you doin’?”

“How the fuck do you even function?” You sound genuinely horrified.

“What-”

“Your shoulders and neck are fucking covered in knots how do you even-” you cut yourself off with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You need to flip over.”

Fuck.

“Why?” He asks defensively.

“I’m gonna break these knots. I need to start from the front.”

“Ya ain’t gettin’ anywhere near my neck, I swear to God-”

“Quit being stubborn. What did I say earlier? I’m gonna flip you myself if you don’t-”

“Alright, fine, gimme a sec,” he bites. Joel takes a deep breath, at war with himself for how he’s going to handle his next course of action.

Whatever happens next, there is no avoiding the fact that you will be made aware of the bulging erection between his legs. You can know about it, that’s fine, but the second you make contact, he doesn’t know if he’ll have the strength to control himself. Which is why he rips off the band aid quick. Flipping himself over with you still hovering over him, he tries his best not to touch you. Though, the second he’s comfortable, his focus is on your waist, grabbing you immediately and missing the way your eyes widen at the tenting fabric of his jeans. He pulls you higher up to sit on his lower tummy.

You squeak out a little gasp as he adjusts you, and fuck it makes the pulsing between his legs even worse. He releases you, bringing his hands back to his sides.

“Comfortable?” you whisper. You try so hard not to use your voice, worried that it’ll reveal just how turned on you are by this situation you’ve put yourself in. He gives you a single nod, and with that, you lean to grab more lotion.

The angle you are at forces you to lean the front of your body onto Joel to be able to reach his shoulders. You can feel his body tense underneath you; you can hear his labored breathing as your hands further push away his flannel, working away at each knot.

You lean forward further, giving yourself the ability to reach just below Joel’s neck. With this action, your hips shift, pressing down against Joel’s belly in a way that sends a sudden jolt of butterflies through your core. Your hands freeze in their movement, breath and fingertips stuttering as your entire face and neck heat up. You sneak a quick glance to Joel, and his eyes are still relaxed. He didn’t notice.

It takes you a moment to start your movements back up again, but when you do, you can’t help the way you repeat exactly what you did before — allowing yourself another experimental roll of your hips against his soft abdomen. Only this time, you’re way less sly, for the whimper of pleasure you thought you could hide slips right out, right for his sharp ears to take note of. Shit.

“Y’ alright there?” His eyes are trained on you now; he knows what you just did. Joel sports a quirked eyebrow as he waits for your response.

“Mhm,” you rush out, ignoring his piercing gaze.

It takes every ounce of willpower for you to run over the knots in his shoulder again without driving your hips into him, but even the push and pull of your arms is a full body movement, and you feel it. You feel the growing wetness in your core, the growing heartbeat that his bare tummy no doubt can feel now.

Your body is splayed across him, the warmth of you leaking through your bottoms and onto his hot skin as you pathetically try to play off the fact that you aren’t grinding your wet cunt across him right now. With a rasp of your name, he takes a sharp breath in. “What are ya doin’?” He grunts, pained. Conflicted.

This is so wrong. But it feels so good. Your arousal — how utterly desperate you are for the older man underneath you — is shone all over your face, brighter than any other feeling of disgust or wrongness you’re trying to convince yourself of. But the internal battle is still there, though, and it forces your hips to come to a full stop. It forces cries of apologies from your lips. It forces regret.

“I- I’m sorry,” you choke back a sob. “Please, I- this is so wrong, I’m so stupid, uncle, I-”

God damn it. Joel is too damn hard to deal with this shit now. “Oh, Jesus Christ, will you cut the fuckin’ uncle bullshit?” He finally snaps. His hands spring to life, finding their way up your thighs, tightening once they reach your hips. He forces you to move again. “Ya think I wanna hear that fuckin’ word while you fuckin’ soak me? Huh? While ya rub on me like a fuckin’ bitch in heat?”

“Shit,” you moan, the strength of his hand making the assault against your mound all the more intense. “Joel, please,” you cry, your fingers shaking as you hold onto his chest.

Your thighs begin to tremble as he maintains a rough pace to your movements, his bed creaking with every shove of your hips against him. His grip on you is one of steel, the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh, no doubt leaving tiny bruises as a reminder of today’s actions.

He is fucking covered in you — the slick of your desire pooling through your bottoms and into his skin, making each grind smoother. He licks his lips at this, his eyes dark as he drinks you in from above; your own eyes glossy and a sheen of sweat along your skin. “Look at ya, darlin’,” he murmurs, voice low enough to send a fresh wave of arousal pouring from your hole. “Fuckin’ soakin’ me, baby. Needed me that bad, did ya? Was tryin’ t’ tell ya earlier,” he grunts, “Y’know ya just had to ask.” A lazy smirk pulls across his lip.

You let out a whimper at his words, your hips finally rolling alongside his own guidance, instinctively searching for more friction. “Atta girl,” he groans, “That’s it, fuck- makin’ a fuckin’ mess a�� me, darlin’.”

You’re panting now, the rhythm and pressure mixed with the filth of his Southern drawl ignites every single nerve ending throughout your body. He watches you with a dark intensity, the brown of his eyes replaced with pure black lust, his eyes unable to stray away from the pleasurable desperation filling your features.

“Gonna come like this, sweetheart?” He taunts, driving you into him even harder.

“Mmm- my God, yeah- yes,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as the coil in your belly finally tightens, your breathing ragged as needy moans escape your lips.

With a final roll of your hips and the utterance of a that’s my girl, the coil finally snaps, pleasure crashing over you, coursing through your veins as you come all over him, your slick unable to stay within the limits of your clothes, leaking and dripping down the sides of him and onto the mattress below. Your thighs convulse around his waist, his hold on you continuing your thrusts, dragging out your orgasm until your own hands find his and rip him away from you.

“Ya ain’t done yet, sugar,” Joel gruffs, grabbing the globes of your ass cheeks and dragging you down, letting you feel his ignored and now raging erection.

“Never said I was,” you purr, a soft moan blessing his ears at the feel of his bulge against your ass. He can feel your smirk against his chest.

Body still trembling, Joel lifts your ass in the air, sliding your bottoms down over the curve of your body. The stickiness of your panties pulls off with a wet squelch, the cool air of the room mingling with the wet warmth of your bare pussy, the stark contrast forcing chills to run through your veins.

“God,” he murmurs as you give a little wiggle of your ass in the air. “Pretty as a peach, huh, darlin’?” He guides you lower, pushing you down onto his bulge. The hardness of him beneath you immediately sends a fiery need to your core. Your hands move on their own as you pull your body up, reaching for the buttons and zipper of his jeans, undoing them with ease despite the eager shake of your hand. You pull the jeans down just enough to let his cock spring free, thick and angry and leaking.

“Oh, fuck,” you swallow your gasp. “God, I need you so bad,” you whine, already lifting up to line the tip of him to your swollen cunt.

You sink down with a breathless moan, your head flying back as your hands grip onto his tummy to keep you from buckling.

Joel’s breathing stutters, his moans filling the air as you practically choke his cock. “Shit- so fuckin- fuckin’ tight.” His hands find their home on the meat of your ass, holding you tight, grounding himself from coming like a damn teenager.

You move slowly at first, savoring the way he feels inside of you, how big he is. God, you don’t think you’ve ever taken anything quite as long and as thick as him. Your heart skips a beat at that, knowing that he’s ruined you for anyone else.

It isn’t long before the raw need takes over, and you move faster, hips rolling back and forth as you ride him, the wet sound of skin against skin as you alternate to a bounce ever so often.

Despite the risk of hurting his back even more, he can’t stop himself from gripping you tighter, his nails digging into your flesh as his hips buck up into you, starting their own rhythm, meeting every one of your thrusts. The sensation is overwhelming with the size of him; it’s a perfect mix of pleasure and pain, mixing sweet whines of ecstasy with whines of overstimulation, and it’s the best music to have ever graced his ears.

“Look at ya,” he grunts. “Fuckin’ made for this, weren’t ya? Fuckin’ made for takin’ this cock, huh, sweetheart?”

You nod weakly at his words. They send a flutter down your belly to your pussy, and his mouth is all it takes to send you to your second brink of collapse — your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you move, as he drives himself into you without abandon.

Every thrust pushes you further to the edge, the sting of the stretch, the sensation of being so full — it’s almost too much to bear. He can hear it in the way your cries change. It’s becoming too much.

“Y’ can take it, sweetheart, almost there,” he grunts. His hands take over in guiding your movements, urging you faster, harder, bringing you both to the cliff’s edge.

“C’mon, baby, can feel her squeezin’ me, know she wanna come, baby. Breathe, doll, jus’ let go,” he rasps, his words coming in staggered.

The wet tightness of your walls, both the feel and the sound, causes Joel to fall first — a low, guttural groan filling the room as he fills you with his hot, thick spend.

The sensation of him pulsing inside you, unloading everything he’s worth, sends you over your edge, your pussy clenching around his cock as you come, the sensation rippling through you, shredding your vocal cords as you scream out in pleasure.

Everything goes dark for you, nothing but the fuzzy sound of Joel’s sweet praises at the top of your head as he guides you through your come down.

“Did so fuckin’ good f’ me, darlin’,” he murmurs. “Sweet girl.”

For an asshole, who knew he could be so sweet?

You roll off of Joel as soon as your heart steadies, your entire body on fire from all the exertion. You can feel Joel’s body stiffen as you use him for support. His back is killing him right now.

A few moments pass as your eyes slowly start to close, but the deep gruff of your name stops you from dozing.

You turn your head to the man beside you. “Yes?”

For the first time today, it’s Joel who can’t make eye contact with you. “Can you, uh… can you-” he clears his throat, trying to rid himself of his awkwardness. “Can you warm up the heat pack again?”

Your smirk lifts your cheek before you can even try to stop it. “Come again?”

He lets out a frustrated huff. And he can’t turn away from you. His back is killing him right now. “My back-”

“Yeah, what about your back?”

“You fuckin’ little shit-”

You giggle as you flip onto your side, your hand holding your head up to get a better look at him. “Your back is hurting, baby? Need me to get the heat pack for you, hm?”

He doesn’t respond. He just has the deepest, most grumpiest scowl known to man on display.

“Oh, come on. You need my help, is that it? Need to hear you say it, unc.” You emphasize the last syllable of your sentence, a belly laugh threatening to escape you.

Oh, two can play at that game. “Yeah, baby, I need your help. I need the help from my beautiful, beautiful niece, hm? My beautiful, needy niece whose pussy gets all soaked jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout me, huh? Gets all wet and needy thinkin’ ‘bout her uncle-”

Your resolve finally snaps, your eyes clamping shut as you cover your ears, loud la la la’s coming from your mouth as you ungraciously roll yourself off of his bed. “Enough, fine! Fine! Fuckin’ nasty,” you groan as you make your way to the kitchen.

“‘M not the one who started it, sweetheart,” Joel says, a triumphant smile plastered across his cocky face.

“I made you cookies by the way,” you yell after a beat. “Want one?”

Joel’s hand reaches for his belly. He doesn’t need one, that’s for sure. “Yeah,” he responds not a second later.

You come back to his bedroom, heat pack in one hand, no cookie in the other. You hand him the heat pack. You make him adjust it himself.

“Where’s the cookie?” He asks, a tinge of impatience on his tongue.

“Oh, I thought you were gonna come down and get it.”

He looks at you incredulously.

“I just figured you wanted to start being more independent and all. Given how strenuous you were being a few moments ago,” you offer with a faux innocence.

“I swear to fuckin’ God, when I get my hands on you-”

“Your hands on me? Yeah? When?” You start making your way out of his bedroom. “Come get me if you wanna show me a lesson. Know you been dying to all week.”

If he can fuck you the way he did, maybe full-time bed rest isn’t what Joel needs. He needs to stretch and move around; he needs to activate his muscles, especially being on the older side. It really is basic biology.

I would absolutely love to hear what you guys thought of this! Any and all your love and commentary truly keeps me going and motivated even when the writer’s block is at its strongest. Wouldn’t be here without you all. I have so much love in my heart for you! Talk to y’all soon🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

Leaf divider by @saradika-graphics

#fic recs #joel miller fics #endlessthxxghts

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angelofsmalldeath-codeine · 9 months ago

Text

Good Saturday, y’all.

Topic of today’s rant: PEOPLE PRINTING AND SELLING FANFIC & GENERAL FANDOM ETIQUETTE

Profiting from fanfic will ruin it for everyone.

I want all of you who gift us your stories to be safe from lawsuits and beware that your content might be stolen.

Not to be on a soapbox and preaching to the choir but here are.

There are many authors pulling their work off AO3 because people acting on bad faith are printing and binding fics to sell on etsy thus infringing copyright laws. Fanfic has always been a grey area and we are allowed to exist in this grey area because we are not profiting from it. The minute money is exchanged, every party involved is breaking the law.

Why am I complaining about this yet again? Because we might be deprived from enjoying fanfic with the freedom we currently have because the fanfic authors will fear getting sued. If third parties are stealing our work and selling it, publishers and studios won’t care to know who sold it. It is your handle (thus IP address) on the sold fanfic. Because, get this, they are doing downloads straight from ao3 with your usernames.

Manacled is being pulled from ao3 because the author will publish it as a book. People are putting the book at risk by selling printed versions of it on Etsy.

I believe many of us who fall on the 20 years of reading fanfic side rather than on the 20 year olds reading fanfic will remember the Anne Rice days. These are not fully over because her son is carrying on the legacy of suing everyone who writes fanfic of her work. And if I may say, she didn’t invent vampires and should’ve taken many seats. I digress.

I am not sure of the levels of awareness within this community and to what extent it can affect all of us. TikTok is a massive contributor to this problem (as it is to many other problems. Again, I digress) since booktok and the binding folks discovered ao3.

You might think, I only post on tumblr so my content is safe. Well, they are finding their way here too. They cringe because tumblr is for old people but they still make their way here with their bad manners and pillaging behaviour.

I want all of you who gift your stories to be safe, lawsuit free, not lose your content and not be afraid of sharing.

I wish I had a definitive solution to this problem but I can only think of small actions:

report the etsy accounts selling fanfic/fanfic commissions,

report the TikTok accounts selling binding for fanfic work,

go back to the days of putting disclaimers on your notes that you don’t own the characters and you are not profiting from the story.

Tagging some authors* here for visibility so you can cascade to more people. Absolutely no pressure tag.

@theywhowriteandknowthings @tightjeansjavi @diversemediums @goodwithcheese @nerdieforpedro @fhatbhabie @undercoverpena @thelightsandtheroses @ezrasbirdie @notjustjavierpena @javierpena-inatacvest @freshlyrage @5oh5 @wardenparker @endlessthxxghts @creedslove @sp00kymulderr @secretelephanttattoo @gnpwdrnwhiskey @whatsnewalycat @pedrostylez @thetriumphantpanda @toointojoelmiller @dancingtotuyo @agentjackdaniels @ladamedusoif @lotrefcp @wildemaven @musings-of-a-rose @justagalwhowrites @morallyinept @pedropascalsx @criticallyacclaimedstranger @pennyserenade @kteague @astoryisaloveaffair @moralesispunk @linzels-blog @metalnecklace

*I can remove the tag if you are not comfortable with being associated with this post.

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strang3lov3 · 11 days ago

Text

Scrub Daddy

QZ Joel visits you for a bath and a little extra (4.7k)

Tags - smut, dom!joel, mean!joel if you squint and I mean really squint because he does in fact fuck you with a certain kindness in his heart. dirty talking you through it. Ah, fuck it. Who am I kidding. pervy!joel too. dubcon, coercion, unprotected PIV, hand job, nyasty QZ joel eats it from the back, ass play and a tasteful amount of ass eating, nipple play, come shot, sex work, takes place in a brothel, JOEL SOUP (bathing that old man), Joel Miller hog reveal (it’s gargantuan, ludicrously capacious if you will), Joel Miller enjoys the finer things in life ie. pussy, Joel Miller tummy. Joel Miller's broad shoulders come with their own warning. Fic help - @beefrobeefcal @noxturnalnymph @endlessthxxghts Thank you all for your brains and eyeballs! A/N - MONTHS AND MONTHS LATE BUUUUT this is for my sweetheart @merz-8 who so generously streams herself playing TLOU and red dead for me 🩷 this fic is inspired by the many times she bathes Arthur. Mercy I love you!!!!!

Joel turns the tap on his shower and with his eyebrows raised, waits quietly to hear the sound of water rushing through the pipes in the wall. Nothing. “God bless it,” he mutters. The water’s been shut off for the past month or so in his apartment complex. He pays extra to have it but alas, nothing fucking works in the QZ. Everything’s broken down, falling apart, or will fall apart - it’s just a matter of time.

Joel’s got limited options. He could visit the showers downtown, get hosed down like a dog with cold water that feels like knives in his skin, although the showers don’t open until 5AM tomorrow morning. He could wait it out, though he’s pretty fucking rank; he needs a shower yesterday. He could also rinse off at the sink with a damp rag.

He thinks to himself, hands on his hips and biting his cheeks, weighing his options. Damp rag it is. Joel opens his linen closet and takes his ratty, stringy old rag with him to the kitchen. He wets it with the water from the five gallon jug allotted for drinking, then reaches for the FEDRA issued bar soap that’s meant to be used for everything - hand washing, dishes, laundry, et cetera, et cetera. Joel takes off his shirt and then lathers the bar soap in the rag, the clean and flowery smell permeating the air. He loves this scent - he doesn’t always get this specific one when he picks up his hygiene supplies once a month. God, when did he smell this last? Feels like deja vu. It’s so familiar, it couldn't have been too long ago…

Then the memory hits him: the whorehouse over at the old hotel. That’s where he smelled this soap last. It’s in the men’s rooms but more pertinent to Joel at this moment, it’s the soap used in the bathing rooms - different from the men’s rooms. Joel scoffs and puts the soap and rag on the kitchen counter. Yeah, he smirks to himself, that’s where he’ll catch a bath tonight. He puts his denim shirt back on, stuffs some clean clothes into his leather backpack and heads off into the night for the hotel.

Joel’s strategic in how he gets there. Curfew’s at six, and it’s eight right now. FEDRA’s not too kind to those out after hours. He moves stealthily through alleyways, avoiding the harsh, white light of the soldier’s flashlights shining from above. Once at the old hotel, Joel knocks in a particular pattern on the side door. On the other side, a man peers through the peephole and verifies Joel’s identity, then opens the door just enough for Joel to slide on through, his belly rubbing against the edge of the doorframe.

It’s dingy on the inside, dark and lit sparingly only by some candles. Joel makes his way to the front room where a different man sits at a table. Joel reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his ration cards, flipping through the notes with a practiced flick of his thumb. “M’in need of a shower,” he says, laying the cards down on the table. He scans the room, recognizes a few familiar faces.

The man covers the notes with his hand and slides them toward himself, then counts the cards through and nods. “Fourth floor, third door on the right.”

Wordlessly, Joel heads up the staircase, knees cracking on about every other step. God, he’s getting old. Once at the fourth floor, Joel heads for that third door on the right and pushes it open with one hand, unbuttoning his denim shirt with ease using the other.

This room is different from the others at this brothel. It has no bed, no carpeting, no soft surfaces of any kind that would be typical for activities performed in a place such as this. This room has just one large bath tub in the middle with a small table next to it, and in the corner is a small lamp, covering the room with a low golden glow. Once-green peeling paint covers the walls instead of torn floral wallpaper and cracks cover every tile on the floor below. Joel peels his clothes off and wraps a faded pink towel around his waist, his tummy bulging over the edge. He waits patiently next to the tub for a knock at the door.

Your hands are wobbling in the dressing room. There’s really not much to dress yourself with, no makeup or anything like that. One of the girls suggested melting a colored pencil with some hot water or a lighter and then using that to paint your lips and cheeks, but she wouldn’t share her own with you. In the mirror, you fix your hair and straighten your borrowed dress, breathing deeply to try and calm your nerves. It’s your first night working here at the brothel, and you’re really not sure what to expect.

Your boss, Jim, knocks on the dressing room door as a courtesy, but doesn’t wait to make sure everyone is decent. He just waltzes right in and announces to you all that there’s a client in room three waiting for bath assistance.

“Do you know who it is?” one of the girls asks Jim.

“Yeah,” Jim answers. “Joel Miller. Who’s taking him?”

The girl who gave you the tip on the colored pencils turns to her friends and whispers, then turns back to you. “You should take him,” she tells you. “You’ll love Joel, he’s nice. Very gentle with his girls. A real lover.”

Her smile feels disingenuous, and it doesn’t help that her friends are laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Of course,” she lies. “And here–” She pulls out her lighter and a bubblegum pink colored pencil that’s stained black from repeated burning, and lights the end of the pencil on fire so that it melts a bit. She drips it onto her fingertips, then harshly smudges it onto your lips, biting down on a facetious smile. “Yeah. Joel will love you.”

She doesn’t let you check your appearance in the mirror before ushering you to the bathing room, her hands on your lower back as she pushes you to the door. She slaps your ass, then heads back to the dressing room with the other girls, barely concealing a giggle in her wake.

You inhale and exhale deeply, then knock on the door. The man - Joel - opens it for you and guides you inside, then locks the door behind you. Clad in nothing but a towel, he crosses his arms as he looks you up and down with a slow scan of his eyes, which makes you feel a bit uncomfortable. His brow is pinched together, he’s biting his inner cheek. His expression turns from studious to curious.

The first thing you notice is how handsome he is, you can’t even help yourself. His crossed arms strain his big, thick biceps. He has a full head of curly, graying hair, and a full set of teeth. Tall. He’s towering over you with a hulking form. His top lip sports a big, thick mustache, and his face is covered in a perfectly patchy beard. Sharp. He’s got a sharp nose, sharp jaw, and a sharp look in his inky dark brown eyes. You don’t know what you expected, but it certainly wasn’t him.

“Name’s Joel,” he says. “Your turn.”

You tell him your name, and Joel reaches for your hand and brings it to his lips. “S’that your real name?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

Fuck. “N-no,” you lie.

Joel chuckles. “So you’re the new girl, huh?”

“Mhm.”

Joel laughs again.

You squeeze past him to get to the tub, then twist the knobs of the bathtub, twisting them quicker when the water doesn’t come out. Joel watches you struggle for a minute, then comes up behind you and puts his strong hand on your lower back, fingers pressing against your ass. “Y’got it all wrong. Do it like this,” he instructs quietly, pulling up on the knobs, causing the water to come pouring out of the spout. He twists the handles himself, holding his hand under the running water to test the temperature. “See?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Learn somethin’ new everyday, don’tcha?”

Joel rounds the tub, then pulls out the tucked in end of the towel on his waist. You quickly turn your head in the opposite direction, garnering another chuckle from him. Every time he laughs at you, you feel worse. “No point in lookin’ away,” he tells you. “You’re gonna see it whether you wanna or not. Jus’ the nature of these things.”

Joel hands you his towel, then steps into the long tub. From here, you get a good look at his naked form. He’s muscled beneath his softness, no doubt stronger than an ox. He’s broad, with vast shoulders and a relatively slim waist in comparison. His member is substantially sized, even soft, as it is now. His balls are even bigger, heavier.

The bathwater moves as Joel’s weight sinks in, rocking back and forth in the tub. He sits down and stretches his legs out, the water running over his feet. You keep your distance as you fold Joel’s towel while waiting for the tub to fill the rest of the way, familiarizing yourself with the toiletries nearby. Washrag, shampoo, bar soap, plastic cup, a tub of petroleum jelly, a glass, and a bottle of whiskey. When the tub is filled, you shut off the water.

Joel pours himself a large bit of the whiskey into the glass, “Quiet one, ain’tcha?” Joel says to you, then downs his drink. He pours another, then sips it.

You shrug, unsure of how to respond to the man. You’re not really sure if you’re supposed to talk and if so, what you should say. You move to the end of the bathtub where Joel rests his head, then reach for the cup and fill it with Joel’s bathwater, then wet his graying curls. Little ringlets still form around his neck.

Shampoo comes next, so you take the small bottle from the table. With wet hands you twist the cap, but it doesn’t come off. Joel waits patiently as you dry your hands on your dress and try again.

“What’s goin’ on back there?”

“The uh, the shampoo,” you say. “I can’t get the cap off.”

Joel reaches behind himself, “I’ll give ya a hand,” he says, and you put the bottle into his palm. He unscrews it with ease, then hands it back to you as he tells you that you seem nervous. “Wait a second,” he says, “C’mere,” and taps the edge of the tub with his right hand.

“There?”

“Yeah, sit down.”

Bottle in hand, you sit at the edge of the tub. “Closer.” Joel tugs you by the arm. “Ain’t gonna bite ya.”

You pour a bit of shampoo into your palm, then Joel takes the bottle and sets it on the little table. You reach forward and scrub the soap into his hair, quickly working it into a lather. Joel watches your face closely, how you avoid looking him in the eye. He dips his hand into his bathwater then reaches for your face, his steaming hand on your jaw as he uses his wet thumb to wipe away the colored pencil that was hastily rubbed on your lips. You’re stunned, and Joel watches you with dark and hungry eyes, a little bloodshot too. “Pretty one, aren’t you? A girl like you shouldn’t be workin’ here.”

You ignore him and continue washing his hair, tangling your fingers in the sudsy, thick curls. Joel holds your chin tighter and forces you to look him in the eyes. “You’re not givin’ me the silent treatment, honey, s’posed to talk to your clients. Make a man feel human. Answer me.” You’re intimidated immediately. If he is who the girls call nice, then…

“Wasn’t my first choice of a job,” you admit quietly.

“How’d you end up here?”

“I needed money,” you whisper. “And the other girls said they wanted someone on bath duty. But that I wouldn’t have to-”

Joel laughs loudly, cutting you off. “Oh, bless your fuckin’ heart. No, you’ll have to put out,” he says. “Job ain’t just washin’ dirty old men, sweetheart, that’s what a nursing home’s for. Those girls were fuckin’ with you. Sorry.” Joel gestures for you to continue.

Your blood goes cold. You feel sick, even more nervous than before. Looking through the water, you see that Joel’s already hard for you as well.

“Go on. Speak.”

You swallow thickly. “They also said you’re nice. Gentle.”

Joel nods, then sips on his drink. “That’s some wishful fuckin’ thinkin’. Not me, darlin’. Think they’re hazin’ you. But-” Joel sets his drink back down, “-I’ll behave myself, be a gentleman for ya. Scout’s honor.”

He says it so earnestly that you feel inclined to believe him. “You promise?”

“Cross my heart,” he says. “I’ll break ya in real nice,” he adds under his breath. His little comment - or rather, what feels like a threat, has you flinching. “Relax, relax.” Joel holds his hand to your waist, keeping you close to him. “You’re fine. I treat all my girls nice. I told you I wouldn’t bite. You’re fine,” he repeats. Joel reaches for the plastic cup and fills it with his bathwater, then gives it to you to rinse his hair with. He closes his eyes, groaning softly. You’ll hear those same groans escaping his lips later when he fucks you, eats you alive.

You admire his profile, that sharp slope of his aquiline nose, pouty lips and dark eyelashes. Water cascades down his thick neck and the broad planes of his freckled chest, landing into the pool of suds. After rinsing his hair, Joel takes the rag and the bar of soap and wets both, then hands them to you. You lather the soap on the rag, then Joel takes the soap back. You scoot closer to him and begin washing his neck and the muscles surrounding, scrubbing the rag into his skin.

“Feel tense, don’t I?”

You’re not sure how to answer. “I guess, yeah,” you mumble.

“Yeah, you’ll fix that. Get me right.”

Joel leans forward and tilts his head down, sighing as you scrub his broad shoulders, leaving little tracks of soap suds on his body. “Lil’ harder, sweetheart,” he groans. “Put some muscle into it.”

You rub harder into his skin with the rag, massaging those tight muscles in his back and shoulders before lifting his heavy bicep to scrub his arm. Joel lifts his free arm and reaches for you, then tugs the front of your dress down, exposing your cleavage. “S’posed to show me a little skin, darlin’,” he murmurs, his hand lingering on your breast as he rubs his thumb left and right over your skin. “Gotta earn them tips somehow, right?” It makes your face heat up and your heart beat harder, faster. His fingers feel like electricity on your skin as he dips his hand lower, catching your nipple with his fingertips. He rubs the bud until it’s pebbled, then twists it between two fingers, causing you to gasp in pleasure. Joel smiles at that.

Flustered by both his words and his actions, you pull his hand out of your dress, and Joel wears a crooked smirk. He outstretches that arm for you to wash, and you scrub his limb with the rag, speeding through the activity out of uneasiness and nerves. You drop his arms and quickly pat your hands off on your towel, then get up to leave.

“Nuh-uh.” Joel grabs your arm and pulls you back down so that you’re sitting on the ledge of the bathtub again, the water splashing a bit when you land. “You ain’t finished yet. Legs need washin’, don’t they?”

“Umm…”

“Think you’re forgettin’ somethin’ important too,” Joel mutters under his breath. He props his leg up next to you, and you can see his heavy balls and his thick cock standing at full mast beneath the water. With the rag, you scrub up to his knee.

“Higher.”

About halfway past his knee.

“I said, higher.”

You scrub his upper thigh beneath the water’s surface now, washing right where his leg meets his hip. Impatient, Joel pulls the rag from your hand and holds your wrist, then guides your hand to that space between his thighs, wrapping your fingers around his shaft. “Right here,” he instructs you. “I’d reckon a man’s member certainly needs washin’ too, don’t it? ‘Less you like it dirty. Some of us do.”

You quickly stroke Joel’s shaft, just a quick slide of your hand up and down. Joel holds your hand under the water, “Keep goin’,” he mutters. You move your hand and down again, though your back aches from the angle and you have a difficult time reaching him. Joel notices your struggle. “Somethin’ wrong?”

“I can’t like- you’re too far-”

“Mm. I getcha,” Joel says, nodding in understanding. “Stand up for a minute.”

You stand up off of the ledge of the bathtub and Joel shifts in the tub, the water sloshing with his movements. He puts both of his dripping hands on your waist and then turns you where he wants you, then begins bunching up the fabric of your dress. “You do the rest,” he tells you. You pull the dress off of your body, feeling insecure under Joel’s watchful gaze as you fold the garment. “Panties too.”

You shimmy your panties down your legs and tuck them beneath your folded dress, which amuses Joel. So modest, so bashful. Those qualities of yours won’t last long here in the brothel.

After setting the clothes down near Joel’s belongings, you make your way back to him. He’s holding out his large, masculine hand for you to take. “C’mon in, there’s plenty ‘a room for us both. Watch your step,” he warns, using his strength to guide you into the tub. “Attagirl.”

You lower yourself into the bath, the hot water making your skin tingle. “Yeah, the water feels nice, don’t it?”

“It feels good,” you agree. You’ve always loved a hot bath, a rare luxury in the world you live in.

“Now, where were we?”

Joel pulls you through the water so that you’re straddling his thick thighs, the head of his cock nudges against your pussy which sends a flutter through your stomach. You wrap one arm around Joel’s shoulders to stabilize yourself, your other hand staying below the water’s surface as you once again find his cock. This isn’t so terrible.

You pump Joel’s cock, memorizing every vein on his shaft with the palm of your hand. He tilts his head back in pleasure, brows knit together as he sighs deeply.

“Am I doing okay?”

“Doin’ just fine, hon’,” Joel mumbles. “All the way up, all the way down. Jus’ like that.”

On the next pass, starting from the thick tip of Joel’s dick, you squeeze him on your way down, down, until you reach his balls. You give them the kindest of squeezes, earning a moan from Joel. “S’perfect. Fuckin’ A,” he hisses.

And all the way up again. You increase in speed, though to avoid splashing, you don’t work him too quickly. You can feel him pulsing under your touch, a sensation that has your core throbbing. He’s breathing heavier, surely getting close now. You squeeze him harder and incorporate a twist of your wrist into your movements, coaxing his release along.

Just as you find your groove, Joel stops you. “Yeah, nice try, kid. I ain’t payin’ for a fuckin’ handjob. Could do that shit myself for free.”

Joel spins you in the direction opposite of himself, then nudges you forward. He puts the items sitting on the wooden end table on the cracked floral tile below, then pushes the table over to your end of the bath, the wood creaking and groaning.

He lifts you up and leans you over the edge of the bathtub, having you rest on the table, the cool air on your wet skin causing goosebumps to erupt. From here, you can see all the cracks in the wood, the swelling from the water damage. “Spread them legs, sweetheart. Make room.”

The water splashes behind you as Joel moves into position and you brace yourself for the inevitable pain of Joel’s cock splitting you open.

Only, it doesn’t come. You feel Joel’s thumb sliding through your folds before he spreads you wide, exposing your asshole and your pussy to himself, a picture perfect view.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he whispers. “A fuckin’ shame it’ll get ruined.”

Joel presses a kiss to your asshole, then kisses his way down to your warm center, before finally dipping his tongue into your warm entrance. He groans at your taste, how sweet on his tongue you are with his face between your cheeks. He kisses his way up, up again, then spits on your tight hole. He circles the muscle with his tongue, tracing round and round before forcing his tongue inside. It’s fucking filthy, what he’s doing to you. All salacious and obscene. But you love it, god do you fucking love it.

“Yeah, old Joel ain’t so bad, is he?” Joel murmurs tauntingly into your flesh. He kisses his way down again, all sloppy and messy. He loves the sweet little sigh of relief you breathe out when he reaches your clit, the area you need him most. He moves his lips slowly against you, loving how you grow slicker and slicker. How your soft cunt feels against his face. Joel breathes you in deeply, taking in the scent of your arousal. No chance in hell he’s washing his face after this. Your musk will live in his facial hair for days, acting as somewhat of a comfort to him. Or perhaps a trophy.

With his tongue pointed, Joel traces along your folds before plunging into your slick hole once more. He could spend forever between your thighs, that soft, sweet, most private of places. The momentary reprieve could last eternally, if he were so lucky.

Joel savors all of you. Your hot, wet cunt, how your hips twist and turn as you chase your own pleasure. When he sucks your clit, he can feel your thighs twitch around his skull. Perfect, you’re so fucking perfect. He has half a mind to take you back to his apartment when he’s done with you, keep you all to himself. Leave you lying naked in his bed, be his little slice of heaven in such a cruel, fucked up world.

Joel circles your clit with his tongue, finding that perfect pleasure that has you moaning his name. Steadily, steadily, he keeps you like this until you’re coming for him, gushing all over his face as he fucks you through your release with his tongue.

You’re left breathing heavily on the table, trying to collect yourself. Joel leans over you and wears a cocky grin. “What’d I tell you, huh?” he asks. “Told you I take good care of pussy. Shoot, look at ya, all fucked out.”

You can’t help but smile at him. Joel moves behind you once more, spreading your legs wide and slotting himself between them.

“But,” he says, “Fair’s fair. My turn now, sweet girl.”

Joel tugs on his cock, as it’s softened a bit without any stimulation. God, he’s getting old. Once at full mast again, Joel drags the blunt head of his cock through your folds, all slick and slippery with your wetness. “Ready?” he says, notching himself inside you. It’s already a painful stretch.

“Mhm,” you hum, uncertainty lacing your tone.

With one hand guiding his cock inside, Joel has the other on your hip. He squeezes you comfortingly as he inches his way inside. He can see that you’re squeezing your eyes shut, wincing in pain. “Oh, I know, I know, I know,” he coos. “S’a tight fit, I know. Take a deep breath, breathe through it. You got it,” he says. “You are a professional after all, hm?” Joel teases.

You inhale and exhale deeply, your walls stretching and aching as Joel’s thick cock pushes deeper and deeper inside you.

“Halfway there,” he tells you. “S’easier f’ya let me rip the bandaid off.” He’s not asking your opinion, it’s a warning of what’s to come. A courtesy, perhaps.

Joel pushes inside you all the way, the slide inside your body has him groaning and throwing his head back. The intrusion of his cock is so sharp it shatters you and scrambles every thought inside your head and you feel impossibly full, every other sensation disappearing as your mind focuses only on what you feel between your legs.

Joel pulls out of you slowly, then pushes back in. He repeats the motion until your expression has softened, until you’re not biting your lips and your brows relax into a natural position. “There she is,” Joel praises you. “What a good girl. Knew you had it in ya. Good fuckin’ girl.”

He builds a steady pace, quickening it to his liking in time. His thrusts are fluid, deep, and intentional; he fucks you perfectly, with consideration for both you and himself. This, this was not what you were expecting. You feel both of his strong hands squeezing your middle, and Joel watches how your flesh bulges between his fingers.

“Joel,” you whimper. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah, feels good. Goddamn, you feel good.”

The water sloshes as Joel slams his hips into yours, not that he gives a shit. He fucks you harder, faster, building that pleasure deep in his gut. Joel leans over you and finds your clit with his hand, pulling back the hood before rubbing tight little circles into the sensitive part. “Gimme another,” he breathes. “One for the road. M’gonna miss this pussy.”

Joel pounds into you, the tip of his cock hitting that special place inside you that feels so good, a primal sort of pleasure. All you can do is lay there and take it, let him guide your orgasm along with his measured thrusts and skilled fingers. It’s only a little longer of him drawing in and out of you, and then you’re coming all over again. It’s a hot and intense, all-consuming sort of pleasure. A sensation you’ve never known before now, before Joel. Fucking nothing compares.

“Oh, fuck. Christ almighty,” Joel groans, feeling your cunt squeeze around his shaft in non-rhythm. He looks down at where his body meets yours, the creamy rings of arousal you’ve painted onto his cock. Joel quickens his pace even further, hips stuttering as he frenetically pounds into you. You groan at the loss of him pulling out of you, but your displeasure is swiftly soothed by the feeling of his hot spend painting your backside. Rope after rope of his come, all warm and sticky.

It’s quiet, save for the splashing of water. Joel searches for the rag and the soap from before and lathers both, then scrubs his come off of your skin, which tickles you. “See?” he says. “What’d I tell ya. M’a gentleman. Somethin’ like it, at least.”

Joel steps out of the tub and dries his hair, turning it into a fluffy mess. He pats his body down next, and in your blissful, fucked-out state, you get a perfect view of his plump ass before he dresses himself. He combs his hair back with his fingers, then reaches into his pocket for some ration cards.

“Let’s see here,” he murmurs, licking his thumb before flicking through the notes. He pulls out a generous amount, then slaps the cards down on the end table where you rest your head. “Think we’re square. You come and find me if I’m short, though, yeah?”

“Okay,” you whisper, barely lucid.

Joel pushes some hair out of your face and bends down to kiss your cheek. “Until next time,” he says. “Keep outta trouble.”

IF YOU ENJOYED PLEAE TELL ME SO! I love talking to you guys, and I love how you make this blog feel like a community. Reblogs, comments, ASKS!!! Are all so appreciated. Mwah. Have a safe week, everyone 🩷

Extra kitty pics cuz I love ya.

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