#halloween!Joel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

salingers · 29 days ago

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october's end.

dbf!joel miller x f!reader summary: a filthy halloween night with your dad's best friend, joel miller. [you get him to briefly wear a ghostface mask]. [enjoy that! i did]. warnings: 18+ mdni. age gap. alcohol. au. begging. cream pie. dirty talk. dom!joel. fingering. jealous!joel. language. masked!joel. no outbreak. no use of 'y/n'. praising. smut. use of 'good girl'. use of 'slut'. unprotected piv. word count: [about] 3,800. a/n: hi! debut, written for @mermaidgirl30's halloween writing challenge. cover by me, divider by @saradika. @saradika-graphics.

Everything’s bigger in Texas, including Halloween. Your childhood neighborhood is locally televised each October’s end, due to every home’s enthusiastic participation. There’s an annual stoppage of traffic for the singular evening’s festivities, permitting only costumed bodies to roam the gated community’s residential roads.

Branches draped in gauzy webs. Yards engulfed in artificial fog. A beloved holiday tradition, predating the tailend of the seventies, when Dad and Joel were elementary aged and wielding pillowcases of candies. Now, they’re fifty-somethings, bemoaning mutual back pain and cursing pesky lawn decorations.

“Here,” Joel gruffs, while individually sliding Dad two Reese’s pumpkins, from across the kitchen’s counter. “Protein break. ‘S four grams.”

Dad swipes them both up, before confirming that statement by thumbing one’s wrapper, “That ain’t bad.”

You’re quietly laughing at their supposed refueling, while stooping behind the fridge’s door and scanning the moistened shelves. There. A seasonal beer, from your favorite brewery in Austin. It’s comfortably predictable, returning home for Halloween; From Dad purchasing your favorite autumnal ales, to Joel Miller’s ruggedness.

You properly right yourself. Then, using your waist, nudge the appliance’s door shut, “Dad, where’s your bottle opener?”

Dad’s phone abruptly drones, reverberating against granite and interrupting your question; He grimaces at the caller’s illuminated identity.

You guess, “Ghostface?”

Dad laughs, before emphasizing, “Worse. My neediest client.” He abandons his barstool, continuing, “Actin’ like buildin’ up in Waco makes ‘er Joanna Gaines.” Dad apologetically nods toward you, “Joel. Will ‘ya?”

Joel’s scruffy chin tips upwards, directing you, “C’mere.”

Something’s brewing, once Dad vacates the vicinity. Your forced proximity to Joel is newly palpable; Tonight’s different. You’re obedient, in approaching him. Joel doesn’t stop staring. The bottle’s neck is being strangled, under your dominant hand. You can’t completely ward off an image of taking him into your palm.

Your minimal passage to his barstool seemed slow-motioned, almost. You’re not sure. Time’s just apparently lengthier, under Joel’s browned gaze.

Joel grunts, fingering his carabiner of keys, attempting to sift out his bottle opener keychain, “You playin’ Michael Meyers, ‘gain? ‘Round one night, only?”

You amusedly scoff, “Keepin’ track?”

Joel shrugs, “Eight days, in eight years.”

You’re genuinely surprised that Joel’s noted your absence. Maybe, Dad revealed that specific number, correlating to your sparse appearances in Austin; Well, it could’ve been that Dad mentioned to Joel about how since your high school’s graduation, you’ve only managed to visit home yearly. That’s just basic math. Right?

You stammer, “Uh huh. ‘S my favorite holiday.”

Joel hums, before abruptly wrapping his calloused palm around the entirety of your hand and the beer bottle’s width, “Hm. ‘N that your favorite beer?”

You’re momentarily silent, muted by Joel’s warmth. A sizable hand, roughened from decades of hard labor. The tips of his delectably thick fingers begin tightening at your wrist, securing his hold as he’s standing himself up.

Even fully seated, Joel’s intimidating in size. Him standing toe-to-toe with you? That’s another story. His construction boots are weathered and worn; They would be comically large, in comparison to your measly-sized sneakers, but nothing’s funny about Joel Miller’s body mere inches from yours.

You reply by mustering an eager nod; And, whether that’s in response to Joel’s prior question pertaining your liking of the beer, or merely an approval of his nearness to you? You haven’t decided.

Joel rasps, “Anythin’ else?” He’s pulling your combined hands downward, to his waist. The carabiner’s remained attached to his belt’s loop, “That ‘ya favor?”

You’re struggling to think of something witty to retort. Because, the frayed seam of Joel’s zipper is right there. He’s deftly notching the bottle’s cap inside of the opener’s teeth; The beer crisply hisses, releasing any contained pressure.

Joel whispers, “What, darlin’? Bat got your tongue?”

You defeatedly laugh, “Somethin’ like that.”

He grins, carefully releasing you, “Taste it.”

You harshly gulp, “S–Sorry? Oh, right. T–The beer.”

Joel agrees, “That’s right.” Then, darkly teases, “Y’know, that pretty mind ‘a yours is boundin’ for the gutter.”

He crosses his arms against his broad chest, the canvas fabric of his Carhartt jacket drawing taut. Joel’s now cocking his head, sending his gaze along the pathway from the glass vessel that you’re feebly holding, to the lower lip that you’re inadvertently biting; Daring you.

You’re feignedly bold, “Meet ‘ya there.”

You drink, even if it’s primarily to keep yourself from further stuttering. At first, it’s an adequate enough distraction; The alcohol’s frigid in temperature, soothing to the high-strung tendons of your throat, from the inside-out. Then, you’re curiously drawn to Joel’s own gulping throat, and that transient composure of yours is gone.

Joel’s devotedly watching you, his glare heady and sensual. His Adam’s apple jerks, moving atop the clenched muscles and corded veins of his neck. You’re somewhat tipping back, gathering your final mouthful, for now; You’ve drained three-fourths of it, by the time that you’ve halted your sipping.

Then, Joel’s thumb darts out, before smoothing against your glistening mouth. He drawls, “Got it lookin’ real good. Let’s see.”

You’re only narrowly audible, “Oh? Joel.”

Joel’s tongue, deliciously large and scrubbed pink, strokes his finger. He groans, “Mm. Ain’t sure. Need ‘t sample it from the source.”

You inwardly whimper, “Yeah?”

You’re foolishly tempted to extend him the ambered bottle itself, because surely Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, would identify that as the ‘source’. Not your parted, wanting lips. Like Joel’s read your hesitant mind, he reassuringly pins your hands behind your back, easily dismissing the beer; A singular hand of his own, dwarfing the pair of your wrists.

Joel’s ghosting your lips, “Yeah.”

For good measure, Joel lightly moans, sucking his dampened digit. Humming around the pumpkin spiced suds, lapping up any residual taste from his finger. Arms restrained, spine straightened; Your chest’s rising urgently.

Joel’s own chest, delicately hairy below his threadbare t-shirt, is an odd inch away. A desperate heat’s begun permeating your lower abdomen; Achingly unfurling, taking up residency in your cunt.

Of course, it’s then that Dad’s barrelling over, having withdrawn from his nearby office, “Sorry ‘bout that, kid. Get ‘er open?”

You’re coughing out, “Y–Yep.” Then, “Thanks, Joel.”

Dropping your wrists, Joel winks, “Oh. ‘M pleasure.”

Your incriminating closeness to Joel goes unrecognized by Dad; Seeing as, Joel’s wide shoulders completely obscure you from view.

Dad sighs, “Gee, there ain’t no escapin’ this shiplap.”

Joel immediately laughs, casually reclaiming his prior barstool. The jarring segue from Joel’s flirting with you, to his joking with Dad, is absolutely disorientating. You’re fidgeting, repeatedly and silently tapping your foot. You can’t do Joel here; You’ll settle for doing last-minute Halloween preparations.

You blurt, “Goin’ to start organizin’ the candy. ‘S all in the garage, Dad?”

Dad assuredly nods, “Sure is. ‘Cept these.” He chuckles, gathering the forgotten wrappers from his earlier ‘protein break’ with Joel.

You remind him, “Don’t forget to refill the fog tanks.”

Dad, who seemingly had forgotten, regretfully snaps his fingers, “What would I do without ‘ya?” He’s bragging to Joel, “Look at ‘er.”

Joel agreeably nods. Eyeing you, “Good girl.”

Because, Dad and Joel are career contractors, who are simultaneously life-long friends and next-door neighbors, it’s only right that they’ve done an elaborate, joint Halloween for three decades; Locally dubbed the ‘Construction Fright’.

A (questionably) age-appropriate spread of horror, featuring thrifted tools that bludgeon and dismember an assortment of plastic skeletons. Hard hats, faux-bloodied and stabbed with rusted nails. Construction tape, riddled in spiderwebs.

A half-dozen, battered wheelbarrows, brimming with chocolate candies; Three brown ones, carrying Hershey’s, Rolo, and Tootsie Roll. Three orange ones, containing every imaginable variant of Reese’s.

You’ve already been working for nearly an hour; Arranging the color-coordinated barrows of candy. You’re jamming the recycling bin’s lid shut, overtop the cardboard and plastic wrappings of king-sized bars, when the entry door’s opened.

Dad’s entering the garage, “Sun’s settin’ soon, kid. ‘Oughta get dressed.” He lazily squeezes you in an impromptu side-hug, “Thanks, for helpin’.”

You breathily sigh, “Mhm. Oh, I need ‘t light the Jack-O-Lanterns.”

Joel appears, insisting, “Go on, darlin’. I’ll get ‘em sweatin’ for ‘ya.”

You’re thinking, ‘That’s ridiculously slutty of him to say’, when Joel continues, this time addressing Dad, “Hey. Phone’s ringin’ over ‘gain.”

Dad sighs, “Got ‘t be kiddin’ me.” Then, grumbles, “Sure hopin’ it’s Ghostface.” He grins, lightly pinching your elbow.

You giggle, “C’mon. She can’t be that bad.”

Dad shrugs, smiling before swiftly jogging up the garage’s concrete steps; When Dad’s fully retreated inside, and the door’s naturally swung shut, Joel doesn’t waste any time pinning your body against it.

Joel whispers, “Bet ‘ya find that this pussy’s wet ‘f me, when you’re undressin’ it.” His jeaned, muscular thigh’s nudging your legs ajar.

You airily groan, “P–Please. Fuckin’ kiss me.”

Joel grins, wedging his ample thigh’s sturdy surface against your beating cunt. He kisses you; Joel Miller fuckin’ kisses you. He’s grabbing your face, thumbing your cheekbones. His lengthy fingers, scraping your skull.

His tongue’s deeply delving, eagerly exploring your mouth’s every crevasse. You can’t breathe efficiently or think coherently. Everything’s Joel. His graying beard, raking your chin; A woodsy scent, like that of the hardware store’s lumber aisles, exuding from his clothing.

You’re moaning, “Ngh.” Then, ripping at the silvery hair that’s curling against the nape of his sun-freckled neck, “More.”

Joel’s grunting, “Fuck. Need ‘t stop.” He can’t stop, and sucks your bottom lip, once more. Then, “H–Hear ‘im? He’s gainin’ on us.”

Sure enough, Dad’s approaching. It’s damn-near impossible to quit rutting along Joel’s denimed, upper leg. You’re whining, “Need ‘ya.”

Joel’s panting, “T–Tonight, darlin’.” He arousingly whispers, “All night. When the porch light’s out, sneak over.” Then, darker and deeper, “Repeat it.”

You repeat, “Tonight. When the porch light’s out, sneak over.”

You’re admittedly distracted, during the evening’s trick-or-treating segment. You understand that nothing’s allowed to appear awry around Dad, but Joel’s playing casual too well. You shouldn’t overthink, but it’s torturous; That he’s apparently unaffected. Drinking with Dad and Tommy. Never really staring at you.

Joel’s (conveniently) costumed as himself every Halloween, but himself during working hours; A leathered tool belt, cinching his tender waist. A backwards Filson hat, tamping his unkempt curls. His dirtiest ‘white’ t-shirt; The neckline’s absurdly tattered and torn, an array of holes displaying his body’s coarse hair.

Midland’s country cover of ‘Wicked Game’ is emitting from neighboring speakers. You can’t resist likening the song’s drumming pattern to your own heart’s pulsating rhythm; Yearning for Joel’s attention. Then, Dad’s whistling for your attention.

Dad’s pointing, “Look, kid. Your ‘ol boyfriend, Nick. He’s fuckin’ Ghostface.” Dad humorously roars, standing, “See ‘im? H–Hold on.”

You’re avidly protesting, but Dad’s already approaching Nick, who’s not wearing, but holding his hooded mask; Fingers cupping the elongated, rubbery chin. There’s nothing inherently wrong about him; He (morally) should be your holiday hook-up, not your dad’s best friend. It’s too bad.

Joel snipes, “Dick?”

You tut, “It’s Nick.”

Joel’s feigning understanding, “Oh, Prick.”

You’re unsure what’s initiated this potent sexual tension, but it’s consumed your every thought this Halloween; While, Joel’s every word is loaded. His irritated sarcasm’s gunned your way. Any bickering’s uncommon, for the pair of you. You’re hoping that Tommy’s too busy proffering candy to notice.

Dad’s returned, towing Nick, “Weren’t we just talkin’ ‘bout him, kid? So funny.” Dad, and his dorky penchant for inside-jokes.

Nick cluelessly smiles, “Hi, you.”

You politely reply, “Hi, yourself.”

Nick’s extending his hand, summoning you from your designated seat, “Got ‘t see this costume.” Then, he’s declaring you, “Stunning.”

You’re incredulously laughing, “They’re bloodied overalls.”

Nick grins, persisting, “Love ‘em. Also, this apron’s awesome.” He’s thumbing your accessory’s front, tracing the logo, “Carhartt girl, huh?”

You’re aiming to get under Joel’s skin with, “Scream girl, too.” You inspect Nick’s black robe, feeling his arm’s draping sleeve.

Oh, Joel Miller’s jealous. He’s rolling his earthy-toned eyes; Aggressively peeling his beer’s damp label, while instigating Dad, “Hearin’ this?”

Dad’s indifferent, shrugging. He’s always approved of Nick for you; He’s Texan, and plays Minor League Baseball. That’ll do it.

Nick’s pleading, “Let’s please walk ‘round, sweep the neighborhood?”

Joel snarks, “Hell. Reckon he’s recruitin’ for Neighborhood Watch?”

Nick’s nervously smiling, having not heard Joel’s dig, but surely hearing Dad and Tommy’s abrupt snickering.

You kindly respond, “Let’s. Love seein’ the decorations.”

It’s nine-thirty. Your street’s grown habitually sparse; Toddlers, having resigned to stringent bedtimes. Teens, having retreated to erupting parties.

You decipher Joel’s looming silhouette; His rocking chair’s creaking, upon the dimmed porch’s planks. A gleaming tumbler of (presumably) whiskey is resting against his crossed leg, the glass winking at you.

Joel’s dragging his index finger’s edge against his groomed mustache, thumbing his angrily tightened jaw. He rasps, “Ain’t walk ‘ya home?”

You’re ascending his porch’s tread, “Didn’t need that. Told ‘im so.” Then, untying your apron’s chaotic knot, “Uncross your leg, Joel.”

Joel’s pleasingly pliant; He warns, “That’s the only order that I’m takin’ tonight.” His lap’s deliciously spreading, “Get ‘t drawin’ the blinds.”

The anticipation’s wetting you. You’re immediately scampering along the porch’s perimeter, rolling down every privacy blind; Joel’s patiently swigging his auburn liquor. You whimper, “A–Anythin’ else?”

Joel’s rolling the wick of his adjacent kerosene lantern; Thrusting his opened lap, scrounging his Zippo lighter from an anterior pant pocket. His hand’s arousingly veined, while flicking the lighter’s flint wheel.

He belatedly replies, “Drop your apron. Undo your overalls.”

You’ve dropped the apron, and something’s spilling out from the largest pocket; Joel’s deeply exhaling, “Explain that.”

The lamp’s emitting faint light, fire illuminating his hardening expression. He’s so scarily sexy. You’re inching nearer, but Joel hoists his palm, stopping you.

You embarrassedly gulp, “N–Nick’s mask. Asked me ‘t hold it. He never wore it.”

Joel’s impatient, waving, “And?”

You’re tentatively unhooking your denimed straps, gently uttering, “W–Would ‘ya? Wear it?”

Joel’s mildly surprised, “Oh?” Deciding, “Bring it here. On your knees.”

You instantly kneel, before gathering up the discarded disguise using your teeth. You’re crawling to Joel, crossing the porch’s dully-lit surface. The bib upon your overalls undone; The garment’s buckling loops clinking.

Joel involuntarily moans, “Ngh. Dirty fuckin’ girl.” His index finger’s pumping from his balled up fist, signaling you.

Your pussy’s thumping, because of his commanding, curling digit. You’re itching to suck it. You need anything of Joel’s inside of you.

You’ve gradually reached Joel; You’re being caged in-between his lengthy legs. Joel forcibly pinches your face, removing the mask from your bite’s grasp. The item’s resultantly spat, against his abutted groin.

He’s astonished at the filthy sight, rustling, “How ‘bout that.” You’re resting on your haunches, while Joel praises, “Good girl.”

Joel’s abruptly leaning downward, before hungrily lifting your body’s entirety along his own. He’s immediately kissing you, sinking against the rocking chair’s curved spine; The porch’s cedar ground sighs, creakily duetting with Joel’s groans.

You’re practically siphoning the remnant whiskey from his tongue’s cushioned pad; Your mouth’s rabidly sucking, while your waist’s desperately grinding.

Joel’s bypassing your denimed, disoriented trousers; His palm’s greedily grasping your back’s arched column. His remaining arm, ladling your ass. Then, Joel’s effortlessly hauling your goosebumped figure upward; The rocking chair’s momentum being an assistant. The mask’s wedged in-between your upright bodies.

Joel breathes, “T–The lamp. Hang tight.” You’re licking Joel’s partially bearded throat; He’s briefly hunching, responsibly lowering the wick, consequently extinguishing the flame. Your quartet of limbs, wrapping his flexing torso.

You’re whispering, “You’re so big and strong, Joel.”

He amusedly sighs, “Yeah?” Promising, “Ain’t seen nothin’.”

Then, Joel’s roughly stamping your body against the front door’s exterior; His bulge swelling, pinning your pussy. The entry knob’s blindly twisted. Joel’s heavy-footed steps are reverberated, crunching his home’s metallic threshold.

First, Joel carelessly clears his entry way’s waist-heighted table. Juggling you, while his tanned arm’s sweeping everything off; A ceramic, coffee-stained mug of loose change’s completely shattered. Second, Joel harshly kicks his anterior door shut; There’s an impressive boot print, left behind.

Joel’s panting, “Tell me ‘t stop?”

You’re begging, “K–Keep goin’.”

He hums, “Hm. Need it, darlin’?” Joel’s hurriedly planting you upon the table’s cleared crest, kissing your nodding throat. Agreeing, “Yeah. You do.”

It’s dizzyingly hot; Joel gruffly ripping off your mussed overalls, easily tugging off your slip-on sneakers. He’s lobbing them across the room, away from the mess of coins and shards. You’re noticing the Ghostface mask, under his unmoving bicep.

Joel’s noticing you, “This what ‘ya want?” He’s hesitantly thumbing the mask’s gaping jaw. “Ain’t scared?”

You quietly say, “Like ‘t be scared.” You’re reaching upward, prying off his hat; His hair’s deliciously gray and tousled. “Here.”

Joel’s flinging his accessory away. Then, handing you the hooded, horror mask, “Go ‘head.” He warns, “Wearin’ it ‘till you’re comin’. Understand?”

You’re stroking his untidy hair, readying him, “Won’t be long.” You murmur, “S–Soppin’ for ‘ya.”

Joel’s grunting, “Fuck’s sake.” Kissing you, in-between threatening, “Filthy. ‘Oughta edge ‘ya. Talkin’ like that.”

He impatiently rings your wrists; You’re positioning the mask properly overhead. The draping fabric’s hitting Joel’s colossal shoulders.

Your pulse’s hammering, “Oh.”

The mask’s milky-colored expression, surveying you. Stark, against the setting of Joel’s unlighted home. His index finger’s impulsively traveling your body; Dragging over your bottom lip’s dampened flesh. Then, carnally downard, riding your throat. Fingering your jugular’s delicate divet. Hooking your undershirt’s airy collar.

Joel’s taunting, “Heart’s racin’.”

You’re anguishly rutting against his console table’s lacquered top. You need to be touched. You beg, “J–Joel. Oh, Joel.”

Joel’s eerily tilting his head, “Pussy’s racin’ like that, too?” Whispering, “Ain’t it?”

You’re deliriously horny, “Yes.”

He’s humming, “Hm. Shirt’s got ‘t go, first.” His unoccupied hand’s rummaging his hind pocket, while, “Reckon that my knife’ll work?”

You’re pleading, “C–Cut it off.”

Then, Joel’s brandishing his utility knife. The blade’s expertly flicked outward. He urges, “Try ‘t hold still.”

Joel Miller’s carving your fucking shirt; His blade’s blunt edge skimming your sternum. He’s effortlessly halved it, forging an impromptu vest. He’s instantaneously shoving the garment overtop your rigid shoulders.

The knife’s frigid handle brushes your tapered nipple; Joel’s awaiting permission, hovering your underwear’s waistline. You’re nodding, kneading his large shoulders. His finger’s hitching the material, before his blade’s cutting it.

Snipping the remaining side, Joel grunts, “Cunt need stuffin’?” He’s pocketing your saturated underwear and his retracted knife, “I know it’s wet ‘nough to take two fingers.”

You’ve been fantasizing about Joel entering you all Halloween. And, finally; He does. He’s groaning, “S–Swallowin’ both of ‘em. ‘Jus like that?”

Your angling head’s hitting the paneled wall. You’re obscenely squelching around his battering digits. You belatedly respond, “JoelJoelJoelJoel.”

Joel’s roughened wrist’s repeatedly rubbing your beating clit. You’re clenching speechlessly around him, innately meeting every re-entry. Your spine’s warming; Your stomach’s taut.

Your arousal’s watering his driving hand; His palm’s pooling. Joel’s incessantly steady. Praising, “Comin’ up. Doin’ good.”

You’re gasping, “There. Oh, right there.”

The instant that you’re coming, Joel’s yanking off his hindering mask. His beard’s patchy and sweaty. He grins, “Man ‘a my word.”

Then, Joel’s amused mouth’s pounding upon your own; He’s desperately inhaling your breaking moans. Licking your teeth’s underside.

You’re abundantly squirting, as Joel’s uncorking your cunt. Your spotting vision’s correcting leisurely. You’re languidly sighing; Breathing deeply.

He’s genuinely insane for drinking you from his cupped palm. Then, Joel’s mouthing his soggy fingers; Hitting knuckle. You’re blurting, “Need ‘t fuck.”

Joel’s arching his aging brow; Rasping, “Ask nicely.” Then, he’s towing your body overtop his broad shoulder. Spanking you, “Greedy fuckin’ girl.”

You’re nakedly suspended, Joel’s bicep rippling below your ass. He’s entering his living room; Carefully placing you across his cognac-colored sectional. You’re propping upon the chaise’s leathered cushions. You whine, “Please, Joel.”

Joel’s tutting, “Better’n that.”

You supply, “Pretty please?”

He’s gradually moving nearer; His denim-clad shins, butting the couch’s edge. Joel’s unhurriedly thumbing his belt’s loop, painfully prolonging his removing it. You’re wetting and writhing against his furniture’s fabric.

Joel’s unimpressed, “C’mon.”

Shedding his accessory; Working his zipper. His acting arm’s so freckled, tanned, veined. Joel’s yanking his t-shirt overhead, before subsequently revealing an appetizing, softened tummy. His happy trail’s graying and wiry.

You’re begging, “Joel. Please.”

He’s winking, “Good ‘nough.”

Every sound’s tantalizing; Joel’s boots and pants, thumping across the carpet. His bare, bulky thigh’s abruptly rubbing against your naked pussy; Then, Joel’s mirroring your body’s horizontal position. Mounting you.

Your arousal’s drenching his underwear’s front; His length’s largely tenting the humid material, “Beggin’ like that. Fuckin’ slut.”

You’re involuntarily panting, when Joel’s finally and fully undressed. His cock’s deliciously girthy. The tip’s engorged, reddened and seeping; Erecting far beyond his belly’s button.

You’re whimpering, “PleasePleasePlease.”

Joel grins, “Cunt’s quiverin’. Feelin’ that?”

You desperately nod, “Need you ‘t feel it.”

Joel’s immediately pistoning his fleshy waist; His cock’s knocking your cervix’s wall. His rough thrusting’s fastly inching your bodies upward, until your head’s rearing the sofa’s supple tailend.

He whispers, “Warm ‘nough?”

You gasp, “C–Cock’s perfect.”

Joel’s inaudibly responding; Ramming your hand, palming your pelvis. You’re feeling his cock, below your abdomen’s exterior. He’s interlocking your fingers; His own swallowing yours; Pressing. You’re practically tracing his bulbous, twitching tip.

He’s praising, “Takin’ me well.”

Joel’s bottoming-out, pounding steadily; His bloated, weighty balls welting your taint. Your clit’s puffing, from his pubic bone’s rhythmic route. Dementedly fucking you. You’re moaning, “Ah. F–Fuck.”

He murmurs, “Cunt’s gulpin’ me.” Joel’s hooking your knee’s underside, before lugging it overtop his broad shoulder’s slope, “Needy fuckin’ hole.”

You’re stammering, “Ngh. M–Mm. RightThereRightThere.”

Then, Joel’s angling deeper, differently; Laying his body’s robust weight against your languid, vertical leg. Your foot’s achingly surpassing your head. His chest hair’s graying and saturated; Scraping you.

Your pussy’s overwhelmingly spasming. Joel’s messily tonguing your nipple’s peak; His mustache’s prickling the sensitive skin. You’re tugging at his hair’s curling strands, “J–Joel. Close.”

Joel’s echoing your prior words, “Meet ‘ya there.”

You’re shockingly surprised, that Joel’s remembered the momentary retort; Your faux-bold response and pumpkin spiced alcohol. That’s it. You’re blindly coming. His cock’s densely brimming your contracting hole; Hammering you.

Your pussy’s pornographically sloshing. Joel whimpers, “A–’Atta girl. Drenchin’ it.” Then, “Comin’ inside. ‘M snipped. Yeah?”

You’re immediately kissing him. Palming his beard’s rugged stubble. Sucking his tongue’s pink pores; Tasting your arousal’s heady flavoring.

His climaxing moan’s roaring down your throat; Cum rapidly spurting, coating your cunt. You’re rubbing his rolling eye’s crinkled grooves. His forehead’s tanned and wrinkled. Joel’s especially gorgeous, while cumming hard.

You’re pouring, when Joel’s unplugging you. He’s breathlessly cursing, “Fuckin’ hot.” Standing, “Gettin’ towels. Need anythin’ else? Water?”

You’re beginning to respond, when Joel’s unexpectedly bending; Kissing you. You smile, tapping your bottom lip, “What’s that for?”

Joel’s embarrassedly pointing, toward the nearby microwave’s blinking clock. He explains, “Ten thirty-one on October thirty-first. ‘Dunno. Good luck? Make ‘a wish or somethin’.”

You’re actually dumbfounded, “Oh? You’re absurdly cute.”

Joel frowns, “Ain’t allowed ‘t call me that. ‘Specially while leakin’ my seed.” He’s nakedly turning, preparing to walk, “Water?”

You’re pulling Joel’s hand, “Wait. Want ‘t hear your wish.”

He gulps, “That… You’ll be visitin’ home on Thanksgivin’.”

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chipperchemical · 1 month ago

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happy October! here is what every Hermit would dress up as for Halloween. i will not be accepting criticism (joke)

Bdubs - The bottom half of a couples' horse costume

Cub - Dr Frankenstein

Doc - Frankenstein's Monster

Etho - Puts a sheet over his head and calls it a day

False - Queen of Hearts

Gem - An elaborate, entirely handmade and hand-sewed, beautiful rendition of a forest elf

Scar - Luke Skywalker

Grian - Mumbo

Hypno - Just puts on some cat ears

Jevin - Drowned / Sea creature

Impulse - Classic red demon costume

Iskall - His favourite anime character

Joe - Just wears a shirt that says "responsible adult"

Keralis - Bee

Mumbo - Vampire

Pearl - Uses the 5AM Pearl cloak for Little Red Riding Hood

Ren - Cyborg future space werewolf

Skizz - The blue M&M

Joel - Shrek

Stress - Flower, as in, puts flower petals around her head

Tango - Cowboy

Beef - Fish man.

Wels - Dark knight

xB - Bigfoot

Xisuma - Doom Guy :)

Zedaph - Honestly no-one can tell and they're too afraid to ask

Cleo - Mummy ("You thought I was gonna be a zombie huh???")

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aurorawritestoescape · 11 days ago

Text

CRAVING YOU

Joel Miller x f!reader || 3,9k

Summary: after a breakup you throw a big Halloween party and look for someone hot to spend the night with, but no one attracts your attention. That is until you see Joel.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, age gap (how big is up to you bb), soft!Joel, soft!dom vibes, sex with a stranger, praise kink, fingering, squirting, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, reader getting emotional, aftercare, talk of past heartbreak, smoking. Pics are only for the mood but reader wears a described slutty costume. Joel can lift reader.

A/n: this is written for @mermaidgirl30 ‘s Halloween writing challenge. Thank you for the fun event, Jamie!🩷 Smooches to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Happy Halloween everyone!🎃🖤

MASTERLIST

“As if!”

You push away another drunk frat boy off yourself and head to the kitchen to get yourself a drink. Yes, you look hot as hell practically naked in your red bra, tiny red skirt and a red latex coat over your naked shoulders but it doesn’t give them the right to get handsy with you. Walking through your parents’ house, dark except for the strobing lights, drowning in loud music, you wonder why you invited all of these assholes but it’s totally on you. You wanted to throw a big Halloween party after breaking up with your long-term boyfriend. Not so ‘long’ anymore. He was the one you planned to marry. To spend all your life with. You were high school sweethearts, went to the same college and suddenly all your plans turned to ashes. You found yourself lost, heartbroken and in need of comfort. Tonight you wanted to be hugged or fucked or both.

But unfortunately nobody has attracted your attention. You’re walking through the buzzing crowd but suddenly you stop in your tracks as soon as you spot him.

He’s standing outside in the empty backyard, illuminated by the string lights and the moon. His back is to the house and the first thing you notice is a tool belt, hanging around his hips. A builder costume? Interesting.

The belt attracts your attention to his gorgeous ass and even from afar you see that it looks delicious in jeans. You bite your lip, imagining your hands on those cheeks.

His back is broad. Strong. A plaid shirt is strained over his muscular shoulders. His dark curls shine with the silver of the moon.

Like a shark finally smelling its prey, you start moving towards him, pushing away everyone in your way. You slide a glass door, releasing the music and the chatter of the party into the yard, and the loud sounds make the man turn. Internally you squeal with excitement when you see his handsome features, partially hidden behind the cigarette smoke. When it dissipates, your breath hitches. His prominent nose is asking to be sat on, his dark eyes are scorching every inch of your exposed skin yet his plush lips curve into a warm smile at the sight of you sauntering towards him.

”Hey,” you purr, waving at the stranger with your fingers. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

You offer him your hand and he blows the smoke to the side, before gently shaking it.

“Sorry, miss. I’m Joel. Joel Miller.”

You tell him your name and notice his eyes linger on your body, barely covered and sparkling with glitter. In your mind you smirk— you’re so fucking him tonight.

“Jus’ havin’ a smoke. I’ll leave soon.”

“No, why, it’s allowed,” you giggle and look him up and down before adding. “I really love your costume, Joel.”

You step up closer to him and slide your index finger along the tool belt, stopping over his big bulge. You both glance down and he smiles,

“ ‘s not a costume, sweetheart. I’m a contractor. The man who owns this house wants to redo some stuff in the backyard. He told me I could come and take the measurements tonight. My crew is starting work tomorrow. Didn’t know there’d be a party.”

He glances at the house and chuckles, seeing someone do a keg stand in the living room.

“Oh.”

You realize why your father had told you to keep the guests out of the backyard. Strangely the fact that he’s a contractor makes the situation even hotter. You give Joel a little smile, batting your eyelashes at him, and whisper, “My mistake.”

“It’s ok. ‘s Halloween after all. What are you?" Joel asks, taking in your 'costume' that barely covers anything. To lure him in further, you push your chest out and your red coat opens up more, showing the man all of your assets. Joel shifts on his feet and you wonder if his jeans are getting too tight.

"I'm a girl who wants to have fun tonight."

You give him a loaded smile and in a second giggle as his eyebrows shoot up.

"I'm the devil, Joel."

You tilt your head down and point at your little red horns.

Joel nods slowly, taking another drag of his cigarette. His gaze sticks to your breasts, your belly, your barely covered thighs.

"Lookin' great, sweetheart. I'm ready to sell my soul."

Melting from the pet name, you tilt your head to the side and ask in a sultry voice, "Oh, really? And what do you want for your soul, Joel?"

The man narrows his eyes at you and his tongue slides over the lower lip as he contemplates his answer for a second.

"Jus' what every man wants, I reckon."

"What's that?"

"A sexy devil ready to grant his every wish."

It seems that you stop breathing and immediately feel yourself getting wet. Your heart is fluttering as he’s flirting with you. Your gazes are dancing over each other’s bodies, hungry and enticing, and he puts out the cigarette and inches closer to you. Your eyes lock, challenging each other to act on your desires.

“Guess you got lucky tonight, Joel” you whisper.

His smile is downright devilish.

“Not yet, sweetheart.”

Your voices are barely audible with the music, blasting inside the house, but you hear each other perfectly well. It feels intimate even with a bunch of people, partying behind the glass doors. There’s no one else in the world, just Joel and you, and the moon, bathing you two in its pearly light. Heat radiating from his big body contrasts with the chilly air, and you shiver.

“Let’s go inside, you’re cold,” he offers, motioning to the house, but you’d hate to be interrupted by anyone.

“There’s a guest house over there — I’ve heard. I doubt you’ve already measured stuff there.”

You bite your lower lip as a fear grips your stomach. What if he says ‘no’? Rejection would cut you like a knife right now. But Joel surprises you.

He lifts his hand to your face and pinches your chin, holding you in place. His tone is serious all of a sudden.

“Are you drunk?”

His piercing eyes are assessing your face for a few seconds and you slowly but surely drown in them.

“No. Only had one drink. I’m fine.”

You look at his lips, your breath frozen, until he replies,

“Actually... You are right. Let’s go take a look at that house.”

Flashing him a mischievous grin, you take his big warm hand and start walking. On your way there your core is tingling with anticipation. You've never done anything like this before. Never been so turned on by someone you’ve just met. But your body burns with the need and you take a leap.

As soon as you step through the door, finally away from the annoying party in the main house, you take your coat off, hop on a desk and playfully beckon Joel with your finger. You feel sexy and ready to have fun.

He looks around the place and then his obsidian eyes focus on you. He prowls closer, taking his tool belt off.

“You can leave it on,” you purr, planting your hands on the surface behind you and arching your back.

He shakes his head. “Don’t wanna hurt you…sharp tools.”

He throws the belt on the floor and steps up between your spread thighs. You throw your legs wider apart and your short skirt rides up, exposing your pussy covered by red panties.

Joel’s eyes land there immediately and he mumbles, “Fuckin’ hell.”

Happy with the effect you have on the man, you lean forward and press a kiss to his scruffy cheek. He drags his nose down to your neck and then whispers into your ear,

“Why are you doin’ this?”

You smile at the question. “Because I’m horny. And you’re hot.”

“Hmm, let me ask again. Why— are you doin’ this? Don’t lie now.”

You pull away and glare at him, your brows furrowed. His eyes are set on your face, his expression serious, waiting, and you snap, not hiding your rising frustration.

“Can’t a girl just wanna get fucked?”

His hands run over your naked thighs, and then he brings them to your shoulders. Joel glides his thumbs over your skin there, while his warm eyes are darting between yours.

“Yes, baby, but usually there’s a deeper reason.”

A few seconds pass and his soft gaze breaks your walls, emotions stir in your chest, and you feel your throat tighten and drop your head, averting your eyes from the man.

“My boyfriend… he cheated on me.”

A few moments pass before Joel gruffs,

“The fuck’s his problem? Is he insane?”

You smile and Joel sighs before leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Soft then,” he mumbles against your sensitive skin, sending vibrations through your trembling body.

“What?” you ask as your soft lips are grazing his beard. Joel presses kisses to your face, slowly moving to your mouth.

“I needed to ask— to know how to fuck you, baby.”

Your lips finally meet and he kisses you as his hands wrap around your body.

The kiss makes your head spin. He smells like a cheap deodorant and something so manly, your core floods with sticky lust. His scent intoxicates you. It’s completely different from your ex’s and it makes you throb. Your core, burning with desire, demands him inside you and the ache between your legs sends your hands to his belt. Your body is pleading, ‘Give me— please—need you’.

Joel gently bites your lower lip, slightly pulling away, and you murmur,

“Fuck me.”

He searches for your eyes and takes your impatient hands in his.

“No.”

You open your mouth to protest but he continues,

“I wanna make you feel good first. Can I?”

You nod and then softly gasp as Joel cups your pussy over your panties and his thumb slides up and down caressing your clit under the thin fabric.

”Have you let anyone touch you after… him?”

You shake your head, your lips parted, your nails digging into his shoulders, as you’re watching him take you apart even with a barrier of the material. It’s unbelievable that a fire is already smoldering deep inside you. You struggle to remember the last time your ex turned you on so hard and so fast.

“Am I your rebound then?” Joel asks and your eyes snap up to his. Your stomach drops in fear of him getting offended. But you see his plush lips curve into a smile as he reassures you,

“It’s fine, sweetheart. I don’t mind. I’d be a fool. Look at you.”

His hungry gaze slides down your face, your neck, your chest until it lands on his own hand still pressed to your pussy. Then his thumb snakes under the gusset of your panties and a lightning bolt shoots through your body when his finger finds and starts swirling your slippery clit.

A pathetic whine leaves your parted lips and he pulls you closer to him with his free hand on your lower back.

”Oh my god,” you moan and he takes a deep breath, his cheek pressed to yours. His lips tickle your skin, your whole body burning up under his caress, as he whispers into your ear,

“Do you feel it— how wet you’re?”

His finger is gliding easily over your puffy clit with all the slick lubing his and your skin, and you mewl a soft ‘yeah’.

“Such a good girl for me. But anyone can make a girl come like this—,”

“My ex rarely could,” you blurt out with a hazy smile.

Joel chuckles and his beard lightly rubs your cheek.

“Damn. What an ass.”

You’re so lost in pleasure that you just hum, breathing in his scent.

“Baby, can I put my fingers inside you? Wanna make you feel real good.”

You think, if you’re even capable of thinking right now, that you’d let him do anything to you. Of course you agree, surrendering your body to the man you see for the first time in your life, spreading your thighs a little wider as a silent invitation.

“Thank you, my sexy devil,” Joel growls and his mouth crushes against yours before his middle finger pushes into your sopping hole.

The noise you make doesn’t sound devilish. It’s a soft whimper that he swallows, not parting from your lips even for a second, even to watch his ring finger quickly join the first one. He’s kissing you feverishly, licking into your mouth, while his thick digits plunge in and out your squelching pussy with a steady rhythm. You tilt your hips up to grant him better access and he dives in deeper, claiming the furthest parts of your core.

Joel breaks the kiss and presses his sweaty forehead to yours.

“Listen to yourself— moaning on my fingers like this— imagine what I can do with my cock.”

“Joel, please,” you beg not sure why- to make him stop talking or asking him to continue. He knows the answer even better than you.

“You’ll be screaming my name soon, little devil. Give me a chance and you’ll be screaming it every day.”

He drops his gaze and you follow.

A lustful moan falls from your lips when you see his manly fingers move in and out your glistening entrance, your panties and his digits are coated in your shiny slick. The sight adds pleasure to your already ecstatic sensations.

“It’s like my fingers belong in your pussy, sweetheart.”

He almost pulls them out but then hooks them inside you and his pads start rubbing a spot that makes your core vibrate and eyes roll back.

“Yeah—oh, yeahhhh—“, you moan, digging your nails into his shoulders mercilessly as you feel your climax approaching fast.

“Fuck! you’ll make me bust into my jeans soundin’ like this —lookin’ like this.”

Joel is massaging your soft spot for a few moments and suddenly you feel tickling pressure rise under his touch and a panic grips your heart.

“Oh no, Joel—wait—,” you mumble but in a second you feel warm wetness rush out of you as Joel keeps fingering you, lewd noises filling the room, and your thighs, the desk, Joel’s jeans get splayed with your clear juices.

“Yes! fuck, yes! Give it to me, baby!”

With the added wetness you come hard, shaking on the slippery desk, and Joel holds you with a free hand, pressing his body closer to yours, while your whole world squeezes into the size of this room, where the man you’ve just met is making you see the brightest stars behind your eyelids.

As soon as your body stops trembling, you fall into his embrace and Joel holds you against his chest, letting you catch your breath. His arms, secure and strong around you, send waves of comfort to your heart and suddenly you feel wetness not only between your naked thighs but also in your eyes.

You sit up on the desk, your eyes glistening, your hands gripping his shirt, and give him a warm smile, full of affection and gratitude.

Joel chuckles and kisses your cheek,

“Have you never squirted before? You looked so terrified, little thing.”

You shake your head and drop it, hiding your eyes but also assessing the damage. The desk is a mess.

Joel notices your unease and takes your chin between his fingers.

“I’ll deal with it. Don’t worry.” Then he lifts your face to his and winks, “I’m honored to be the first.”

You’re trying to keep yourself from melting under his dark brown eyes but it’s hard. Your whole body is longing for him, his touch, his lips. Joel’s gorgeous and he’s just given you the best orgasm of your life. What chances have you got?

So you give in to your heart‘s and pussy’s desire.

“I want you, Joel. Want you to fuck me.”

Joel runs his hands over your whole body with a smile before saying,

“I’d love to fuck you, baby. But tonight I think you need me to make love to you. Let me do that.”

You feel warmth stir deep in your belly before replying with a quiet but confident ‘yes’ and in the next second Joel wraps your legs around his waist and lifts you off the desk.

“There must be a bed here,” he mumbles, carrying you to another room and you hum into the crease of his neck. You know there’s one.

The bed is soft and warm under you in comparison with the desk but you don’t think about it. Your whole being is focused on the man discarding his clothes in front of you. You can’t help but moan when he takes his boxers off and climbs on the bed completely naked. His body is strong, the broad chest and shoulders make your hands itch to touch and squeeze them, your lips desire to trace his happy trail down and to kiss his big hard cock, standing proudly. He’s perfect.

“Your turn baby,” he motions to your ‘costume’, and when you sit up he stops you.

“Let me. Please.”

You gladly give him full control and your body vibrates under his fingers when he slowly and gently undresses you.

Both naked except for the horns on your head, you immediately gravitate to each other and the sensation of his hot skin against yours sends shivers through your body.

“Cold, sweetheart? I’ll warm you up.“

Joel kisses you again and pushes you to lie down before getting between your thighs and covering your body with his. His leaking cock smears precum over your belly and you impatiently start rubbing your folds against his shaft, chasing any pressure you can get.

“My devil’s needy, huh? Pretty girl wants my cock?”

“Yes, please,” you whine and Joel locks eyes with you.

“Wait a second—“ he mumbles, about to leave you, but you wrap your arms around him.

“No, I need to feel you. Fully. No condoms.”

Joel presses his forehead to yours.

“You sure? I promise I’m clean but —.”

“Me too. I’ve had sex only with my ex. Ever.”

He looks into your eyes and you don’t see pity there, only care, respect.

“If you’re sure, baby—.”

He kisses you again and you feel his hand slither between your bodies as he grabs his cock and pushes the tip past your folds. The fat head nudges your soft hole and you gasp when he begins pushing his length in, inch by inch, careful not to hurt you.

“Fuckin’—sorry, hnggg—that’s it, little devil. Taking me so good.”

And you are taking him easily, despite his size. You’ve been opened up by his thick fingers, your recent orgasm, and you happily welcome him into your warmth and wetness.

When Joel bottoms out, he growls and you wrap your arms and legs around him tightly. With your lips caressing each other, he begins rocking his hips against you, sending his cock deeper and deeper, until it hits your cervix and you bite his lip.

Joel smirks, “Naughty devil. You feel too fuckin’ good to be real.”

You smile, your eyes hazy as they roll behind your head, when Joel changes an angle and begins rutting into you, stroking the right spot over and over.

You moan loudly and he swallows your noises with another kiss. You’re clawing at his arms and back, making him groan, spreading your thighs wider for him to take everything from you, to give him yourself completely. Your puffy clit grinds against his pelvic bone and another orgasm crests in your core.

With every thrust the head of his cock deliciously massages you from the inside and he picks up the pace sending you higher until another climax blooms behind your clit and explodes in the deepest part of your core and you come apart from both stimulations.

You scream his name just like Joel predicted and he doesn’t shut you with a kiss this time. His eyes are on you, drinking your pleasure.

“Yeah, good girl. Take it, baby— fuck! your pussy —choking me —ahhhh…”

He moans and you feel warmth spread inside you when he starts squirting his seed against your pulsating walls. You wrap your legs around him tighter to keep him in, take all of it gratefully. Your pussy is fluttering around his throbbing cock and you keep whimpering while his hips thrust in, sending his load deeper.

After Joel fills you up, he stills inside you and searches for your eyes. Through heavy breaths he asks you, brows knitted together, voice worried,

“What is it? Did I hurt you? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

When he cups your cheek, you realize that you’re crying, tears streaming down your face to your temples, your chest shaking with quiet sobs.

“No, I’m not hurt— I don’t know— I don’t know—,” you shake your head, mumbling, confused by your own reaction but he doesn’t push further.

Joel gently pulls out, lies down next to you and takes you in his arms. His body presses to yours as he covers you both with the bedspread. He leans closer and kisses your forehead, your cheeks and you slowly calm down, comforted by your lover.

“I don’t usually cry after sex. I’m sorry,” you whisper after a few minutes, still sniffing from time to time, and he glides his warm hands over your back.

“‘s ok, baby. Is it me?”

“No! Well, kinda—yes. Because it was amazing. I’ve never felt so good before.”

You feel Joel’s smile against your forehead, and you lift your face to his and whisper,

“Thank you.“

“My pleasure.”

With a twinkle in his eye, he presses his lips to yours and softly kisses you, hesitant to push too soon, too hard. But you know what you want so you deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue between his lips and soon you’re making out as your pussy clenches around nothing. Your inner thighs are wet and sticky but you don’t care.

When Joel breaks the kiss, he locks eyes with you.

“I doubt you’re the devil, baby.”

“Oh?” You sound a little offended.

“Yeah. I think you’re the most beautiful angel. Too perfect for any asshole on this planet.”

Your lips curve into a smile as you purr,

“You don’t seem like an asshole.”

“Thank you,” he smiles back.

He pulls you in closer again and you two rest together, relishing the new-found intimacy. Joel is the first to break the silence.

”Did he ever apologize?”

The question rings loudly in the quiet room. An hour ago it would make you upset, as a reminder of the biggest heartbreak of your life. Now it barely grazes your soul.

”No.”

Joel hugs you tighter and murmurs,

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

You take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the scent of Joel’s skin. Breathing out the pain of the previous relationship.

You’re lying in each other’s arms for a few more minutes until Joel searches for your eyes.

“We can’t let this night be the only one. What do you say, baby? Can I see you again?”

Your heart sings but then drops into your stomach. You have to tell him. After clearing your throat, you admit,

”This client of yours. It’s my dad. I live here—,” You see Joel’s eyebrows rise up and quickly add, “I can stop by the backyard tomorrow? If you’d like.”

Regret is clawing at your chest. Why haven’t you said anything sooner? He probably hates you now. But Joel smirks, lifting weight off your soul.

“You’re full of surprises, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Naughty devil.”

With that he pushes you down and kisses your smiling lips.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3

MASTERLIST

Tag list:@milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #the last of us #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x f!reader #halloween writing challenge #joel miller x you #joel x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel x you #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #craving you fic

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pearlessance · 10 days ago

Text

A Dance In The Dark

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel has always taken care of you. Always been your kind, attentive protector. And that doesn’t change, even when you read a scene from a dark romance novel and discover your tastes may be a bit more sordid than you once thought. But even in this he wants to grant you your every wish—and when he offers to put on a mask and chase you through the woods, the opportunity is just too wicked to pass up.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content MDNI, feelings of embarrassment and shame, established relationship, Joel ties readers hands with his belt, knife play, BDSM undertones (primal play specifically), sexual aggression, degradation, fingering, p in v, hair pulling, shameless smut this is basically just pure filth

NOTE: this is a cowrite i did with joelmillersgirlfriend! we busted this out in less than two days because i was bound and determined to get this published on the best holiday of the year! please check out her stuff over on AO3 where we have several other cowrites because i love her 🩷

happy halloween my loves 🩷

Read on AO3!

MASTERLIST

You don’t tell him right away. Don’t tell him at all, really.

Joel discovers your peculiar fascination all on his own.

He’s late coming home from work. His dinner sits on a plate in the microwave, leftovers packaged and put in the fridge for his lunch tomorrow. His lack of punctuality is nothing new, but you’ve always been good at filling the time and finding a distraction while you wait for him.

On this particular night, you’ve changed out of your clothes and into one of his T-shirts, nestled into a soft cocoon on his side of the bed, book in hand. The tea in your mug on your nightstand has gone tepid, too lost between the pages to consume anything but the content in a timely manner.

You’d found it in the horror section, a book written by a name you’d never heard of, a story of a young woman’s abduction with overarching themes of perseverance and self-discovery. You find it a bit graphic from time to time, the details of her torment vivid and lifelike. But that’s to be expected in a horror novel and doesn’t surprise you.

The part that does surprise you, however, is the romantic undercurrent between the woman and her captor. He makes declarations of love, fully admitting his obsession with the young woman, claiming to want nothing from her but her own empowerment.

It’s an even bigger surprise when you reach the halfway point and discover that your horror novel is also an erotica. And the text is well-written, pulling you into its depths, and you think it might be the craziest yet best book you’ve ever read if for nothing else than the way it makes your heart race behind your ribcage.

“Is it that good?”

His voice startles you so badly the book falls from your hands and into your lap. “What?”

Joel laughs, a soft sound of amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, toeing off his shoes. He leans over the edge of the bed to press his lips to your forehead, and you find yourself swimming in the subtle affection.

And you know it’s because you’ve been reading smut for the last three hours straight, but the feel of his lips against your skin is heavenly. You abandon the book, tucking the edge of the dust jacket inside the pages to mark your place and discarding it onto the nightstand. It’s second nature as you twist your hands into the soft fabric of his flannel and pull him close.

He smells like pine and sawdust and sweat. His hands are rough and calloused as he cradles your face, lips turning upwards against yours. When you deepen the kiss, sliding your soft tongue against his, Joel laughs again, a little darker this time. He pulls away and the loss makes you whimper because you need him. And the bastard knows it. Because when his gaze roams over your face, lingering on your lips, there’s a heavy undertone of lust behind the playfulness. “S’alright, sweet girl,” he says gently. “None of that whinin’. M’gonna take care of you like I always do. Just wanna know what’s brought this on is all.”

You’re not sure you can admit the truth to him. And even more than that, you don’t have the words to explain that what’s got you so worked up is a scene in your book where the main character is being chased through the woods, her captor wearing a Halloween mask, under the pretense that if he catches her, he’s going to fuck her. Your cheeks warm at just the idea of such an admission, so instead you say, “I just missed you is all.”

Joel doesn’t believe it for a second. He knows you like the back of his hand and sees easily through the lie. And when he glances at your book on the nightstand twice, you know you’ve been caught before he even says a word. “Thought that was one of those scary books you like.”

“It is,” you tell him. Because, technically, it’s the truth.

He narrows his eyes at you, that all-knowing smirk still plastered on his face. “Yeah? Bein’ scared’s what’s got you all squirmy like this?”

As much as you’d like to deny it, to argue his assessment, Joel leans over a little further and his weight on top of you, heavy and sure and safe, makes your breath catch in your lungs. Warmth pools low in your belly and that low, husky tone in his voice only makes matters worse.

“Think whatever’s in that book’s got you all worked up. What’s it about, baby? Hm?” Joel shoves the blanket out of the way and slides his hand between your body and his. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the feeling of his hands on you, the contrast of his roughness against all your softest parts. It’s like the first time every time, and you can feel the steady thump of your heart as it hammers behind your sternum.

Heat rises up your chest when his hand touches your favorite spot, already knowing what he’s going to say. You’re drenched, the insides of your thighs slick with excitement. Joel breathes out a tell-tale hiss at the feeling, pulling back to glance down at you. Humor is suddenly nowhere to be found on his face, no smirks or teasing words. Just dark, hot lust, turning Joel’s eyes black.

“Christ,” Joel groans, continuing to explore between your legs.

You don’t want to tell him what the book’s about, and thankfully he seems to forget he’d asked the question as his long fingers find their place, curling inside of you.

Joel keeps his promise. He takes care of the ache for you like he always does. He makes you finish on his fingers and his tongue and when he finally sinks deep inside you it feels like relief. You warm up leftovers for him afterward, and he doesn’t pressure you about talking about your book. Instead, he tells you about his day while the two of you sit at the kitchen table and the light of his love fills you from the inside out.

You finish the book in less than two days, but its content lives in your head for far longer.

Showering, cooking, running errands - you find yourself thinking about that scene in the woods so often you begin to wonder if it’s altered your brain chemistry.

That weekend you go out for drinks with a couple of girlfriends, letting Joel know you’ll likely be late coming home. He makes you promise to call him if you need a ride and says he’s going to invite Tommy over to watch the game.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary. Joel’s little brother practically lived with the two of you until Maria stepped into the picture, and you pinky swear to call if you need him.

You don’t, though. You spend more time gossiping and laughing and catching up than you do drinking. But it’s dark when you pull into the driveway, and though you don’t see Tommy’s truck you assume Joel might have picked him up and you fully expect to see him standing in your kitchen with a hand in the fridge grabbing another beer.

Tommy’s nowhere to be found, though. And there’s no referee calling shots on the flat screen. There’s no sound at all, in fact. At first, it alarms you. But then you see Joel sprawled out on the couch in sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt with a book in his hand.

He glances up from the pages only long enough to smile up at you and say, “Hey, sweetheart. Have a good time?”

You hesitate, watching him from where you stand at the doorway. Joel read occasionally, but only if he needed to. If he wanted to learn a new song on guitar, if he had taken on a new car project and had to teach himself how to repair it. He didn’t read for luxury.

“Yeah, it was nice. What about you? Where’s Tommy?” you questioned, tiptoeing over to where Joel was spread out. The book was positioned in a way that didn’t allow you to see its cover, but it most definitely wasn’t one of Joel’s manuals.

Joel turned to grin at you, his eyes scanning your body, stopping to look at the frown on your lips.

“He canceled, ditched me to hang out with Maria,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. Your frown deepened as you moved closer to Joel, still eyeing the book in his hand that was conveniently covered by his large palms.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve come back sooner,” you said, reaching down to run your palm through his gray-streaked hair. You had convinced him to stop touching up his roots, some sick part of you loving how mature he looked.

“I didn’t wanna interrupt. ‘Sides, I wanted to see what got you all worked up the other night,” Joel explained casually, finally exposing the book he was holding. All of the colors left your face as you processed what was happening, that he was more than halfway done with the story. Joel was well into reading the disturbing erotica, but somehow still hadn’t put it down.

“This is some dark stuff. You’re telling me that this is what had you drippin’? Had you clenched around me, legs shaking?” Joel asked, breaking heavy eye contact with you to go back to reading.

“Come on, Joel. Give it back,” you whined, reaching down to pull it out of his hands. The word embarrassed didn’t cover how you truly felt. Mortified was a better fit.

He wrestled around in your hold, turning his back to you and shielding the book with his body. “Not yet, I’m just about to reach the good part. I wanna know what happens when he catches her.”

Maybe not mortified. You were fucking humiliated. Tears threatened to spill as you reached down, pawing at Joel’s arms to grab the book. “Stop it. It’s just a stupid fantasy, I know it’s dumb.”

Joel glanced back to see the wetness filling your eyes, instantly releasing his grip so you could take the book back. His large palm reached up to cradle your face, to comfort you.

“Hey now, I never said it was dumb. I didn’t mean to upset you. I guess I never really knew you were into that kind of stuff. Nothing’s wrong with it.”

His words are sincere and make you feel a little bit better, but you still feel ashamed that Joel had read the book. You know he’d never judge you, but it feels like your closest kept secret has been thrust into the light without your permission. Warmth spreads over your face, down your neck, twisting your stomach into knots. “I know but I…I just didn’t expect you to read it.”

“Then I won’t,” he says quickly, pushing himself up off the couch. He places a warm hand on the side of your neck and says again, “I won’t. I promise. No tears baby, alright?”

You nod and sniffle, trusting him, knowing that his words hold sincerity. Exhaling a long breath, you try to shove the mortification away and focus instead on this man before you who loves you enough to learn everything about you, even the things best kept hidden.

Joel gives you the book and you shove it in the back of your side of the closet, hidden beneath a shoe box. He helps you out of your dress and showers with you, washing your hair while you tell him all about girls’ night and the newest gossip.

After, when you’re both cozy in bed, wrapped up tight in his strong arms, stealing his warmth with your cold feet against his legs, you think maybe you might’ve overreacted about the book. You know Joel would never judge you, not even about this. You think maybe the embarrassment comes from somewhere within, that maybe it’s more like insecurity than shame. And so you say, “I’m sorry about earlier. You can finish the story if you want.”

Joel presses a kiss into your hair. “Not really my type of book, anyhow.”

Even though he says it mostly to comfort you, the words make you laugh. You bury your face into the crook of his neck and can feel the vibration of his amusement as he shares the moment with you.

And when you both settle enough to speak again, his voice is a little quieter as he asks, “You want me to do that to you?”

This time you fight your shame. Wrap it up tight and store it away for something else, something more worthy than a peculiar taste. You think about yourself in place of the main character, running between thick tree trunks with dead leaves crunching beneath your feet.

You think of Joel in place of the woman’s captor, mask over his face, presence dark and looming as he seeks you out. A shiver runs down your spine, so sharp and demanding that your body trembles in his hold.

“S’okay if you do,” he murmurs. You can feel each word through his chest, a delicious tremor against your suddenly too-hot skin. Joel lifts his hand and brushes your hair gently away from your face, thumb tracing the outline of your lips. “Know it did somethin’ to you. Turned you real greedy the other day. Hm?”

Arousal pools low in your belly, and you can hear your heart in your ears. You think he could convince you to do anything when he talks like that, voice low and gravelly. “Maybe,” you say. “I don’t know.”

“Read another part,” he whispers. His thumb travels slowly down your chin, over the curve of your jaw, down the column of your throat. “He’s got that switchblade in his hand. Touches her real nice, all sweet and loving. But he keeps that blade right…” Joel drags his index finger slowly across your neck. “ Here .”

The sound that escapes you is more than need, it’s something else entirely; more like desperation. You didn’t think it was possible to want him any more than you already do but this Joel who strikes just the right amount of fear in you? He makes your mouth water, makes you tremble and shake with just the caress of a single touch.

He grips the back of your thigh with his free hand, pulling you close, pressing you tight against the growing erection behind the cotton fabric of his boxers. Joel’s always been insatiable for you, sometimes getting worked up just from staring at you too long. But you begin to wonder if this is something he wants, too. “Should take you out someplace real nice,” he mutters. “Get all dressed up. You can wear that pretty pink sundress I like. Take you out to a nice dinner, treat you so fuckin’ good…an’ when the sun sets, I’d drive you someplace real dark. Let you loose.”

Even though he’s barely touching you, thumb stroking the skin of your hip gently, your clit pulses between your legs, hips shifting against him of their own accord. Your breath comes fast and labored and you think you’ve never been this fucking wet before—never wanted him so bad . It feels like you can’t think, can’t breathe without it, without Joel .

“Give you a head start,” he continues. “Long enough for me to put a mask on. Wouldn’t even let you see it ‘til I catch you…An’ I will catch you, sweet girl…but you’d have no way of knowin’ who it was. Could be me. Could be anyone.”

The idea is filthy and disgusting but your body doesn’t seem to mind. Your spine arches, breasts pressing up against his chest. Joel lays there stone still, holding you, letting you rut against him like a woman starved. “ Please ,” is all you manage to choke out. He hardly acknowledges the word, but you can feel the smirk form on his lips against the shell of your ear.

“I’d fuck the good girl right out of you,” he says. “Fuck you ‘til you’re nothin’ but a dumb little slut.”

“Jesus— Joel .” He's degraded you before, but it’s never been like this, never felt like this. You reach between your bodies and palm his cock in your hand, and a dark laugh leaves him as he helps you.

In a few quick movements, he pulls himself out of his boxers, shoves your panties to the side, and sinks his cock inside of you, filling you so full it hurts . But you don’t care, because there’s nothing more you need than this, and thankfully he understands. Like he always does .

Joel fucks you right then and there, whispering filthy things all the while, and you think he’s always understood you. Maybe even more than you’re able to understand yourself. Older and wiser and gracious—always giving you exactly what you need, exactly what you want.

Before you fall asleep that night, he kisses you softly and asks, “Do you want me to tell you before it happens? To warn you?”

You’re not sure how to answer at first. Because the concept as a whole terrifies you; it’s new and foreign and dangerous. And you think you might need the warning to calm yourself enough to enjoy it.

But you trust Joel. More than anyone else in the world, you know he’ll always keep you safe. You know he’d never do anything to hurt you.

And so, you pull the blankets tighter around your shoulders and say, “No. I want it to be a surprise.”

That night, you dream about a man chasing you through darkness whose hands feel more familiar than your own. You think about it for the next week. Daydreaming at work, while you’re making dinner, while you’re driving to run errands. It’s all you can think about, the only thing that fills the gaps of silence in your day-to-day life.

You wait. And wait. And wait .

Joel tells you Friday night that he’ll have to work overtime this weekend to make up for a lost part shipment. Nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary. Saturday morning he encourages you to sleep in, kisses your forehead before he leaves, tells you he loves you. And despite no inclination from him, you have a feeling that today is the day.

When you wake up a little while later, the sun casts shadows through the blinds, and you notice that Joel’s placed that pink sundress on his side of the bed. Laid it out for you.

You shower and groom yourself, mentally preparing for the moment it finally happens. It has to be today. And if Joel is lucky and planned it out right, he’d find out that you opted out of wearing panties underneath the sundress. He’d find you slick, shaved, aching in anticipation.

He notices your nervous excitement when he comes home from work, late and covered in sweat from a long day. You’re practically bouncing on your heels, having spent the entire day filling the time, waiting for his arrival. The sun had already started to set in the distance - you probably only had about an hour left of the day.

Please, God, let it be today .

“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart. Had an electrician cancel last minute, left me scramblin’ to get the project covered. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” he muttered into your lips as he greeted you. His arms wrapped around you, his body warm and hot against the thin fabric of your dress.

“That’s okay,” you say. “Everything go to plan other than that?”

“Sure did. Finally finished up that warehouse over on Cherry Street. Figured I’d go out and celebrate.”

You find yourself deflating at the words. Because, usually, Joel celebrating the end of a big project means the involvement of Tommy, too. And if Tommy’s there, then tonight is decidedly not the night.

Joel seems to notice the change in your demeanor. He places his hand on the side of your face and drags his thumb down your jutting bottom lip, releasing it with a wet pop . “Wouldn’t be a celebration unless I had a pretty little girl to buy a drink, now would it?”

Either way, even if it’s not tonight, you know you’ll enjoy the time with him like you always do. So you shelve your disappointment and timidly ask, “Will it be…just the two of us? Did you want to invite anyone else?”

He shakes his head, a playful spark glinting in his warm eyes. “Nah. Just wanna take my baby out. Give me a minute to change and we’ll head out. Sound good?”

You know your nod of approval probably looks too hopeful, too excited, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not with this golden excitement fills you to the brim, the anticipation making your hands tingle.

It only takes Joel ten minutes to change out of his work clothes and into a nice pair of jeans and a flannel, but it feels like forever. He asks you about your day while he drives to your favorite restaurant, and listens intently even though you have nothing interesting to say other than the fact that you’ve changed the curtain on the window above the dining room table.

He opens the car door for you and holds your hand as he directs you through the crowd at the restaurant, and orders for you when the waiter comes over. Even though you get the same thing every time, the gesture makes you feel small and safe and cared for.

You drink a glass of wine, and he tries out some sort of hoppy beer. Joel tells you about a song he heard on the radio that he wants to learn on guitar, but while you try to listen all you can think about is what comes after this.

A million thoughts run rampant through your head. He hasn’t said anything about it, hasn’t given you any hints besides laying the sundress out for you, but the rush of it all weighs heavy on your chest. Paired with the lowered inhibitions from the wine and you interrupt him to say, “Joel. Can you just…can you tell me? I changed my mind. I want to know so bad.”

That playfulness returns to his eyes. He tilts his head the smallest bit and leans over the table to hear your whispered words. “Tell you what?”

“You know ,” you insist. “Don’t make me say it here.” Despite the embarrassment that climbs your cheeks as you listen to the chatter around you, you can’t wipe the grin from your face. You try to hide it behind your hand instead.

“Can’t say I know what you’re gettin’ at here, girl,” he says. But that knowing smirk says otherwise. You can see the challenge in his eyes, the push for you to ask the question you’ve been swallowing down all night.

Folding your arms on the edge of the table, you lean in as close as you can and ask so softly, “Are you taking me to the woods tonight?”

He smiles—a big, toothy show of enjoyment, and leans back in the booth. Joel’s big, you’ve always known it…but seeing him now, shoulders broad and rugged, arms straining beneath the cotton sleeves of his flannel… God , he makes you weak. You can feel yourself flush beneath his scrutinization. Can feel the familiar stickiness of your arousal begin to gather between your legs, too. “An’ why would I do that, sweetheart? Ain’t nothin’ out there for a little thing like you.”

The wine is sweet on your tongue as you take the last sip and shrug casually, pretending as if your hands don’t tremble with anticipation. You try to put on a show of confidence. “Never know,” you say. “Could be a big, bad wolf out there that needs hunting down.”

Joel laughs at that, but he’s waving down the next waiter he sees for the check.

When you leave the restaurant, you realize now the sun has fully set and the darkness has descended. The moon hands high in the sky, the only illumination granted apart from the headlight of Joel’s truck. He helps you into the passenger side and buckles you in, hands gentle and caring, always taking care of you.

Pressing a kiss to your shoulder, he asks a single-word question. One you know is likely equally for his comfort as it is yours. “Okay?”

You are. Despite the fear that begins to rise in your chest, knowing the impending events likely to unfold, despite the shadows and the traversing of the unknown, you know that you’ll always be safe with Joel. “I’m good,” you promise.

He drives for far longer than you expect. Past every stoplight, outside of the city limits, weaving through the backroads until you’re well and truly lost. Every time you pass a wooded area you think he’ll slow to a stop, but he doesn’t. And every moment fuels the adrenaline coursing through you, ratcheting both your panic and excitement to immeasurable heights.

When he does finally stop, pulling off to the side of a road you swear you’ve never been down before, your heart is beating so fast you can hear it in your ears.

He pulls the key from the ignition and the lights cut out, wrapping the both of you in complete darkness. You can make him out just enough, though. Enough to see the predatory look on his face, enough to sense the danger you’ve placed yourself in.

Your mouth goes dry and your brain goes fuzzy as you watch Joel reach into his pants pocket, pulling out a switchblade that glimmers in the moonlight. The small knife makes a snapping noise when it opens, gleaming, taunting you. Excitement buzzed through your body, a nagging voice in the back of your head screaming to run.

“Better get a move on,” Joel whispers, his face shadowed and lips pressed into a grim line. The energy had shifted so quickly that you were uncertain what to do. Even if you did try to run, you doubted that your shaking body would make it very far.

A brooding intensity surrounded Joel, and even though he barely moved to reach back and grab something out of the back seat, the air still felt tense with a silent warning. In his free hand was a gas mask, worn and frayed. The round, glass eye lenses were clouded, displaying its years of disuse. He reached up with one hand to slip the mask down his face, leaving only his eyes revealed.

The white-hot heat that was burning through your veins somehow ignited even further when he finally locked eyes with you. Joel’s eyes were narrowed, carrying a different energy behind them; one that was full of mischief and lust. The moment lasted for a couple of beats…

One, two, three…

And then Joel’s hand snapped out, reaching rapidly to lock around your wrist. Thinking, breathing; none of it mattered. The only thing on your mind was running, some animalistic survival instinct that you didn’t know still existed within you taking over. Your wrist easily slipped out of his grip as you flung open the car door, escaping Joel and running into the dark forest.

There was a chill in the air that made your breath fan out in front of you while you ran, your heavy footsteps practically echoing through the woods. Every couple of moments you would stop and glance around, attempting to see through the endless rows of trees. You didn’t see anything and only heard the sound of your own breathing.

Joel could be scary when he wanted to. Like that one time, a couple weeks into knowing him. Some asshole had followed you around the grocery store late one evening, trailing behind aisle after aisle until your hands were shaking in fear. Joel was one of the only people you had befriended in town since you were new to the area.

He’d showed up five minutes after you’d called him, despite the fact that you knew he lived over ten minutes away. Joel approached the man, and you were grateful that you weren’t the one he was speaking to. Despite not hearing his words from where you were standing, you could see the dark anger on his face, a look that made your blood run cold.

The guy who was following you left immediately after, scurrying off with his tail between his legs. Joel followed you home in his truck even though your apartment was on the other side of town. He’d never been scary to you .

Until now.

Joel’s body came out of nowhere, grabbing you and yanking you against him. The switchblade pressed onto your throat, your heartbeat pounding against the cold metal. You couldn’t see Joel since his vice-grip had your back pushed on his chest.

“You call that running?” he asked, letting his fingers skate down the skin of your thigh, just under the low cut of your sundress. His calloused fingertips caught against your soft skin, raising higher and higher.

“I think you wanted me to catch you. Here you are, lettin’ me rub on you like the little slut I knew you were. I haven’t even properly touched you yet, but you’re already spreading your legs for me.”

Your face warmed at his degrading words. He was right. The excitement of the story wasn’t only the anticipation, but it was the thrill of the hunt. As much as you wanted Joel to touch you, to make your vision blur just from using his fingers, you knew you couldn’t give in so easily.

With all of your strength, you push away both of his hands, ripping out of his grip. He reached down to grab you but you snatched his shirt instead, pulling at it fiercely in an attempt to dodge under him. You heard the fabric rip, but you were too afraid to really acknowledge it.

You took it as an opportunity to escape, dodging Joel’s grasp. You wasted no time in steadying yourself before sprinting away, only sparing a quick glance back to see Joel. His shirt was half ripped, the gas mask blocking any form of expression on his face.

“Damn, baby,” Joel spoke. He stood, shrugging off his flannel before using the switchblade to finish ripping the fabric of his shirt. “If you wanted me to get naked, you should’ve just said so.”

As much as you wanted to watch the way Joel’s chest flexed in the moonlight, you couldn’t handle any distractions. You had to run.

And you did run for what felt like hours. By the time you stopped for a moment, your heartbeat was in your throat and you could feel a slick mess building between your thighs. Your legs were speckled with dirt and pieces of leaves from the way you were kneeling on the ground, searching for Joel.

You didn’t see anything extraordinary through the branches of the forest, but you heard something. A snap.

It was enough to get you back on your feet in an attempt to flee.

You couldn’t see him, but you could feel him. Though your eyes betrayed you, you could sense his closeness, could sense the space between you lessening with each passing moment. Sweat beads at your hairline and your panting echoes between the trees.

The cracking sound of wood beneath his heavy work boots cuts through the deafening silence, and you turn abruptly and throw yourself in the opposite direction. But Joel’s fast, too fast .

He catches up to you in a second, and you know you won’t get lucky twice, yet still you try. You push your legs as hard as you can, running as fast as you can, trying to navigate the uneven terrain.

Joel’s fingertips grasp your shoulder, and you pull away from him so violently you lose your balance, scraping your knees against the rough forest floor.

You quickly turn onto your back, kicking yourself away from him, trying to see through the thick fog of terror in your mind. His slow breaths sound mechanical through the gas mask’s respirator. He looms over you menacingly, looking every bit the wicked man you know he can be.

His shoulders rise and fall slowly, his breaths even while you struggle to catch yours. He tilts his head, a predator indulging in the chase.

And you know right then that you’ve been caught. Stuck in the spider’s web with no hope of extraction. Your voice shakes when you speak. “Joel?”

There’s no softness in him now. None of that gentle ease he always has with you. He lowers himself to the ground, knees on either side of your hips, and grabs for your hands.

You struggle against his hold, even knowing it’s useless. He wraps a calloused palm around your wrists and squeezes tight, and when you buck your hips up against him, trying to wiggle out from beneath his heavy weight, it serves no purpose but to further diminish the little energy remaining in your weary limbs.

Joel raises your arms above your head, pushing your too-sensitive skin deep into the earth, trapping you in place. You can hear the clicking of his tongue behind the mask. “Stupid little girl,” he says. “Never had a chance. Did you?”

His voice is muffled, deeper. You know it’s Joel. Behind the fear, behind the adrenaline, you know it’s him. But it doesn’t sound like him, not in the way you’re so accustomed to, and it sends a chill down your spine.

He adjusts his position, sliding down your legs just enough to grip the bottom of your dirt-stained sundress and rip it upwards. The air feels like ice against your center, slick with your arousal. You clit pulses with need, despite the way you still fight him, struggling nonsensically in his tight hold. “Look at how fuckin’ wet you are, baby,” he says. “Haven’t even touched you yet an’ that pretty pussy’s just fuckin’ crying for it, ain’t she?”

Your spine bends, arching off the ground. The sounds that leave your mouth are animalistic, a desperate whimpering, a wanton need.

And then suddenly his hand is tangled in your hair, pulling hard at the roots, holding your head up just enough to witness your exposure. “I said look ,” Joel grits out. “Want you to watch just how fuckin’ selfish she is. You listenin’ to me?”

“Yes— yes, ” you choke out. The muscles in your neck strain to keep your head held high enough to see the moment he lets go of your hair. But you heard him loud and clear, and you do just as he says.

His hand slips between your legs, and you fight the urge to let squeeze your eyes shut as his fingers slide over your clit. He circles it roughly and you can feel yourself clench around nothing, your body begging to be filled, begging for Joel . He uses the perfect amount of pressure, deft fingers moving fast, and it takes less than a minute before that familiar warmth begins to trickle in.

But you want more, you always want more, and so you find yourself lifting your hips upwards, trying to shift his hand lower, trying to let him know right where you need him most.

Joel laughs. A sick, maniacal sound that sends a cold flood of terror through you. “See? What’d I say? Fuckin’ greedy ,” he says. You know it’s meant to be an insult, but there’s a strange fondness as he says it. An undertone of worship.

You sigh out his name, unable to form another word, forgetting all else that came before this moment, disregarding all things that may come after. All that matters is this, all that matters is him .

“She wants it so bad,” he murmurs. “An’ I’m gonna give it to her.” His movements are cruel and almost painful as he turns you over, pulling your hips out from under him. Joel shifts your wrists to his other hand and sets them against the small of your back, using his free hand to force your head down. The earthy smell of decaying leaves greets you, and you greedily suck in cold breaths of air, trying to will your heart to slow its racing.

You can’t see his movements but you can feel him shift behind you, and a second later can hear the familiar clink of his belt buckle and the swish as he rips it from the loops of his jeans. The bite of leather is harsh as he winds it around your wrists, tightening it in a familiar, practiced way.

“Joel,” you breathe out. It sounds like a plea in your ears, and maybe it is. Because everything is too much, too intense . You need all of him, you think. Need the wickedness, that dark thing he’s been hiding all this time. But you need your Joel, too. The one who buckles you in, who kisses your forehead before he leaves for work in the morning. The one you know will always keep you safe, even when he defiles you. “ Joel ,” you say again.

His hands freeze on your hips, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his skin as he leans over and presses his cheek to yours. He waits for you to speak, giving you as long as you need to sort through the heightened emotions.

Your brain feels like mush and you struggle to form a coherent thought that’s more than one or two words strung together. You know you’re terrified. But you know, too, that you don’t want him to stop. And so all you manage to say is a barely audible, “I love you.”

He cradles your head in his hand, thumb stroking gently over your temple. And then he runs his nose over the curve of your jaw, and though he doesn’t say it, doesn’t break the spell he’s so carefully created in order to indulge your wildest fantasies, you know that no one has ever loved anyone the way that Joel Miller loves you.

But just as quickly as that gentleness appeared, it vanishes into nothing like the fog of your breath in the cold air.

“Gonna show you what happens when little girls roam into the woods,” he says. You can feel his erection as he presses it against you, heavier and harder than you think it’s ever been before. “Can try an’ hunt down the big bad wolf all you want. But if he catches you …”

You’re a trembling mess in his strong hands. His words are the only beacon keeping you grounded, you’re certain of it.

The metal teeth of his zipper grate as he pulls it down and undoes the button of his jeans, pulling his cock out. He slides the head through your arousal, coating himself in your slick. “Just know, whatever he decides to do with you is gonna hurt .”

And then he’s pushing his length into you in one smooth movement, leaving you no time to adjust to the size of him. The stretch is painful and foreboding, every muscle in your body tensing up at the impact. “ Fuck— oh my God —”

“Can pray all you want, but there’s no one out here to save you,” he spits. Joel doesn’t give you a single second to breathe before he’s rocking his hips into you, setting a punishing pace. You can feel his cock throb inside you, can feel that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

You grit your teeth against the pain of it, fingers flexing in his grip. “ Joel —I can’t—!”

“Yes, you can, baby,” he says, voice low and echoing. “I know you can. So shut up and fuckin’ take it.” He leans over you, pressing the side of your face into the ground. You can taste moss and earth but with each thrust, the pain is quickly subsiding, replaced instead with a blinding pleasure.

That warmth builds again, coiling around your spine. Pressure builds quickly and you can feel yourself dripping around him, making a mess of the coarse hair above his cock. “Joel— fuck .”

He reaches on hand around your hip, easily finding your clit and strumming it with swift, practiced movements. You clench around him and he lets out a deep groan in response. When he leans forward and tells you, “Open your mouth,” you do so immediately, brain fuzzy and overstimulated, unwilling to do anything unless he tells you to.

Joel slides two of his fingers into your mouth and shoves them so far down you nearly choke. It’s instinctual when you close your swollen lips around him and suck.

You can hear the smile in his words as he speaks. “There you go,” he mutters. “Told you how this would go, didn’t I? Told you what would happen. Nothin’ but a dumb little slut for me now, baby, hm? Yeah?”

All you can do is nod, unable to form a single coherent thought. Your orgasm hits hard and fast, almost unexpected. It washes through you, electricity dancing beneath your prickling skin. Your moans reverberate through the trees, and you’re suddenly glad he’s driven you so far out so no one can hear you.

“Oh, she likes that ,” Joel says, talking you through it, circling your clit and fucking into you a little harder. “Likes the way it feels to be all full’a me, hm? Yeah, there you go. Gonna give this pretty pussy just what she needs.”

His rhythm falters, staggering just the smallest bit. And while he’s just given you the best orgasm of your fucking life, there’s something about this that makes you feel finally satisfied, full in a way you’ve never been before.

The moment he bottoms out inside of you, Joel turns you on your back and pulls the mask off of his face. His cheeks are flushed and rosy, but there’s a sense of completion in his eyes that you’re sure is mirrored in your own. He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, the bridge of your nose.

And all you can say is, “Oh my God.”

Joel laughs. It’s one of those full, good-natured belly laughs. Your favorite kind. “Well? Was I better than your book?”

You cover your face with your hands, muffling your giggles between your fingers. “Much better.”

#joel miller #pearlessance #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #ao3 fanfic #joel tlou #joel the last of us #ao3 writer #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #smut #halloween

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absurdthirst · 1 month ago

Text

Halloween Cowboy {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: Idiots in love, crushing, putting your foot in your mouth, embarrassment, flirtation, Younger Joel, drinking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

Comments: Tommy and his girlfriend, your best friend, manage to get you and your sexy neighbor Joel at the same Halloween party.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Cmon man. You gotta come. Lindsey wants to meet you and I can’t keep makin’ up excuses for my big brother not wanting to meet my girl.” Tommy whines while he stands over Joel who is trying to read the plans for the bathroom redo.

“Tommy. I’m tryin’ - Jesus. Is it really that damn important?” He asks his brother after taking his glasses off of his nose.

“Yeah. Sarah is going to sleep over at her friend Tori’s house, right? You’ll be sitting on your own with the curtains closed to ward off trick or treaters while watching Dawn of the Dead for the hundredth time…you ain’t busy.” Tommy calls Joel out who signs and sets his glasses down on the table.

“Fine. Fine. If it’s that damn important I’ll go but, shit. I don’t have a costume.” He confesses and Tommy smirks, “that’s easy. You’re already wearing it.” He eyes the construction belt and hard hat and Joel scoffs but takes a second, “I got a cowboy hat. And boots.” He decides and Tommy snorts, “rodeo Joel is making an appearance. Haven’t seen that since high school when you were trying to impress Katie.” Joel huffs, trying to not snap at his brother at mentioning his ex wife whose parents owned a ranch.

“Sorry.” Tommy murmurs and Joel shrugs, “I’ll be there.” He promises, picking up his glasses again and Tommy grins, not mentioning the best part until he’s about to walk away. “Oh and your pretty neighbor will be there. Lindsey invited her.”

****

“Why do I have to go again?” You whine to Lindsey even as you are mixing together the cream cheese with the salsa to make roll ups. It’s one of your best appetizers to throw together quickly and are always a hit. She snorts and rolls her eyes at you. “You need to get out and socialize. You need to have some fun since you broke up with dickhead.” She had never hidden the fact that she thought your ex wasn’t good enough for you. Only now would you admit that she’s right, but you still huff at her. “What am I supposed to do? Pick up someone from your party and take them home?”

“Or you could use my guest room?” She waggles her eyebrows, “and I do believe the man you’ll be riding in there will be called Joel.” She smirks and you nearly choke, “no. No. I don’t - he doesn’t -” Lindsey giggles, “Tommy said the man watches your every damn move from his porch. Watches your ass when you walk past. Trust me, honey. The man wants you. He’s just got issues from his ex leaving.” She explains, knowing Tommy has briefly told her about what happened with Katie. “You don’t need to be his therapist to get some.” She says and nudges you.

****

Joel huffs as he looks at himself in the mirror. The checkered shirt is buttoned up unlike its usual openness when he has a t-shirt underneath. The large belt buckle his dad got him as a present was dug out from the back of his underwear drawer, and the boots are comfortable, worn in thankfully from regular use. The hat is on the side and he grabs it, putting it on his head to see how it looks. He looks like teenage Joel and that scares him. How eager he was to impress a girl. Too eager in fact that she left the first moment she could, leaving him with a two month old when he was twenty years old. “Shit.” He sighs, rubbing his jaw, knowing he will see you. He knows he’s jaded, he’s a single dad with issues and he knows you’d never want him. He’s too complicated. With a huff, he grabs the lasso he got from Tommy as a joke a few years ago and leaves his house to go to the party.

“I think real cuffs would have been better.” You huff to yourself, hating how the ties on these Wonder Woman wrist cuffs keep coming loose. The party hasn’t even started yet and you want to just go home. Not that Lindsey would let you. “Tie this for me.” You demand, holding your wrist out. “If I’m going to be Wonder Woman, I need to be a put together, sexy version of her.”

Joel isn't early. He doesn't like to be early to parties since he can't disappear into a crowd and leave early. He sighs after he parks his truck down the street, his boots clicking as he walks up the driveway until he is opening the door. The party is already underway and he squeezes past people drinking and making out and talking to try and find Tommy.

“Coming through, coming through!” You yank the platter of appetizers higher, needing to get over to the table and refill them although people won’t seem to get out of your way. The party is bigger than what Lindsey had told you it would be and she’s already glued to Tommy’s side, leaving you to kind of run things. Someone comes up to your right, just out of your vision as you veer off to avoid a couple who are groping each other. “Shit!” You hiss, bumping into someone and having to spin around to keep the tray from hitting the ground and ruining the snacks.

“Woah. Shit.” Joel hisses and barely catches the tray as you spin around and grab the other side. His eyes widen when he sees you, dressed like Wonder Woman with eyes wide and beautiful. “Hey.” He murmurs, keeping his grip on the tray and you offer him a gorgeous smile, “hey neighbor.” Someone knocks into him and he steadies the tray. “Let me help. Tell me where you want this and I’ll make sure no one knocks this over.” He promises, keeping his grip tight.

“Hey.” You smile breathlessly, a little shocked and release the tray to him because of that. “Um, yeah, uh, right over there.” You point to the table in the corner and try to figure out if you need to hide in embarrassment or get the man a drink for helping you out. He looks fucking delicious and Lindsey’s comments about riding him are fucking perfect considering Joel Miller is out here dressed up like a fucking cowboy. Your panties are going to be ruined tonight, thinking about him.

Joel wrestles with the crowd to set the tray down and he turns to see you’ve followed him. “Who the hell did Tommy and Lindsey invite? The whole damn town?” He almost has to shout to compete with the chatter and the music. “Seems like it. I only made enough food for a small gathering.” You confess and Joel turns to look at the tray, “you did all that?” He asks and you nod, biting your lip. “Goddamn. You’re like Martha Stewart. But hot.” He adds until he flusters and reaches up to adjust his hat. “Uh, I mean, you look good. As Wonder Woman. I had this massive crush on Linda Carter when I was a kid and uh, yeah. You look good.” He repeats, silently cursing himself for being so lame as Sarah would say.

You want to laugh at the way Joel looks ready to punch himself in the face for being stupid, but you like seeing him like this. “Thanks.” You reach out and touch his arm. “You look really hot too. You’re going to be beating them off with a stick dressed like this, Miller.” You predict, knowing you would be the first in line if you had half a chance at him. “We’ll be dreaming of cowboy lullabies tonight.”

Joel blushes, grateful for the cowboy hat to hide it, and he gets a sudden boost of confidence. “Yeah? You think I’d have a chance with someone at the party? Even though I got more baggage than Bush Airport?” He jokes and you scoff, “everyone has baggage.” He nods, staring at you for a moment and he opens his mouth to ask if you want to find somewhere quieter to talk but a hand slaps his shoulder and he turns to see his brother. “You made it! And dressed up!” Tommy exclaims, clearly a little drunk and his arm wrapped around a beautiful woman. “This is Lindsey. Baby, this is the mysterious big brother I’ve been telling you about.” Lindsey grins and holds her hand out, “it’s great to finally meet you, Joel. Tommy can’t shut up about you.” She teases before she says your name, “and she’s always talking about her sexy neighbor. You’re the talk of the town.” Lindsey teases and Joel’s eyes widen slightly as he looks towards you.

“Lindsey.” You groan your friend’s name, face heating up and you want the earth to open and swallow you whole. “I think you might need to drink some water.” You huff, snatching her cup out of her hand and quickly drinking it down yourself. Hoping that Joel doesn’t think that you are some kind of creepy stalker or some shit.

Lindsey’s words make his stomach twist and Tommy smirks at him, knowing about his crush on his neighbor, and he squeezes Lindsey’s hand until she lets go and turns to look at Tommy. “Come on baby. Let’s get you another drink. Enjoy the party. See you in a bit. Mingle.” Tommy urges his older brother who has the habit of hiding in the corner. “Sure.” Joel nods and watches Tommy take Lindsey to the kitchen. “I need a drink.” Joel mutters to himself before he looks at you, “you know where the booze is?”

“Yeah,” Despite being embarrassed, you won’t let him go without a drink. “It’s out here.” You point to the patio door. “We’ve got a small pony keg if you want beer and then there’s tequila.” You huff out a laugh. “That’s what I plan on drinking.” You joke as you open the door. “Listen- uh, about what she said? I just- I don’t want you to think that I’m watching you all the time or something.”

Joel looks at you as he follows you to the drinks table. He was shocked to hear you watch him and you being flustered makes his heart thump. “I’m watching you.” He confesses, “not in a creepy way but - but yeah. I like watching you.” He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly burning up in the flannel shirt.

You freeze for a second as you reach for a cup, relieved and slightly surprised to find out that Tommy and Lindsey were right. Now that you both have admitted embarrassing things, you laugh and shake your head. “I think we are way too sober right now.” You tease and waggle a cup at him. “What’ll you have before we discuss further?”

“Anything with alcohol.” He teases and picks up his own cup, filling it with cheap whiskey and topping it off with some Coke. “Happy Halloween.” He grins and hits your cup with his. “Happy Halloween, neighbor.” You smirk and he takes a sip of his drink, sighing at the sting of the whiskey.

You ask where Sarah is and listen while Joel explains about the sleepover, but you are really admiring the way he fills out that flannel shirt. It’s cut perfectly and makes his broad frame look even broader. You know the man is strong because you’ve seen the tools and materials he has to carry. “So why a cowboy and not a sexy construction worker?” You ask, grinning as the burn of the alcohol starts to fade and the heat runs through your veins.

“That seemed too obvious. Isn’t halloween about pretending to be something you’re not? Tonight, I’m not a single father construction worker. Tonight, I’m a cowboy looking for a hero.” He smirks as he flexes his fingers around the red solo cup.

It takes you a second to realize he’s referring to your wonder woman costume and you grin. “Not all heroes wear capes, Miller.” You remind him playfully and toss back the rest of your drink so you can pour both of you another. “I think you also underestimate how sexy single father construction workers are.” You huff. “But I like the idea of taking a cowboy for a ride.”

Joel can’t believe how smooth he is being when usually he’s fumbling over his words with you. Maybe the costume has helped him regain some confidence after years of focusing on Sarah and not his love life. “Save a horse, ride a construction worker.” He winks and you giggle, making his heart clench. His eyes drag down your body when you turn and bend over to grab another bottle of tequila from under the drinks table and his cock twitches in his jeans.

You open the new bottle and pour you both a large drink. You don’t want to hang out by the booze all night, although it’s been pretty quiet right now. Soon enough there will be people charging out here to refill their own cups. “So are you ready to let your hair down?” You ask.

Joel snorts, “I don’t think I’ve ever done that. Well, not since Sarah was born.” He confesses, glancing around at the sofa and he jerks his chin, “you wanna sit down?” He asks, his back starting to ache from the long work day and he’s anxious to get closer to you.

“Sure.” You point to the back yard. “Want to sit out there, or go upstairs?” You ask. “We can’t sit down in the living room with all those bodies in there.” It’s a subtle way to get him upstairs if you think that this could actually go somewhere, which it is looking like it might.

“Let’s go upstairs. I’m too fucking old for this music.” He confesses with a chuckle and you nod, taking his hand to escort him upstairs. You’ve been to Tommy’s house a few times with Lindsey to get ready for nights out. Joel hopes his hand isn’t sweaty in yours and he lets you guide him away from the crowd to the quiet guest room. The bass from the music thumps below his feet as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

“You know you are a good dad, right?” You ask, wondering if he knows just how sexy him being a very involved dad is to you. ��You care about Sarah, you listen to her.” You smirk. “Even if you don’t always know what you are doing.”

He snorts, looking down at the drink in his hand, “I definitely don’t always know what I’m doing. I could handle Barbie dolls and hair bobbles but periods? Boys? It’s a little out of my league.” He admits, turning to look at you as you sit down beside him. You’re so beautiful, so understanding. You deserve way better than someone like him yet here you are. “Thanks for saying that though. She likes you. Loves your style and watching those stupid MTV shows with you.”

“She’s a good kid. Because of you.” You smile softly. “And you didn’t even use her to get laid.” You tease. “Do you know that women love a good dad? Our panties drop quick for a man who loves his children.”

Joel raises his eyebrows, “really?” He asks and you nod, giggling in a way that makes his cock twitch, already half hard in his jeans. You smile and he can’t help but lean in closer to you. “You gonna drop your panties for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice dropping lower for you.

“Fuck, that sounded so hot.” You whimper, biting your lip as your eyes slide down to his. You want to kiss him, but you aren’t brave enough yet. “I can’t.” You admit. “I’m not wearing any tonight.” You take his cup and yours and set it down on the nightstand as you talk.

“Shit.” Joel hisses, his eyes widening slightly and he can’t stop himself even if he tried. He surges forward to press his lips to yours. His hat pushed back on his head as he cups your cheek and he pulls back after a second when you don’t respond and he frowns, wondering if he misread this.

You are frozen. Shocked that Joel, your sexy neighbor, is kissing you. When he pulls back, you see him frown, reaching out and cupping his face so you can lean in to kiss him yourself.

He quickly recovers and melts into the kiss, his hand cupping your neck to pull you closer and he gains confidence, sliding his tongue along your lower lip, pushing into your mouth when you grant him access.

Your breath catches and you groan into his mouth. Still in disbelief that Joel is kissing you. Hes a good kisser. His tongue slides along your, tangles with it and encourages you to kiss him back. Your stomach twists in knots and you lean into the kiss more, malting into him.

He loves the way you kiss him back just as eagerly and he slides his hand along your thigh, groaning at the feel of your skin under his palm. You’re so soft and he loves it. He’s imagined it more times than he’d care to admit.

You hadn’t worn any tights with your outfit. Not wanting to feel trapped or have another layer to take off another layer when you’ve been drinking. His hands on your skin feels amazing and you shift, moving to straddle him and you giggle into his mouth.

He groans when you straddle him, his hands immediately finding your ass to squeeze the flesh. So many times he’s imagined your ass when you’ve been outside in your shorts or leggings and now he gets to touch you. “Fuck.” He pants into your mouth, his cock hardening underneath you.

“We will get to that.” You promise, pulling away to press your lips to his jaw. Always wanting to kiss his neck for forever. It’s so kissable. “Imagined it so many times.”

Joel groans, tilting his head, and he slides his hand up to squeeze your breast. “Me too. So many damn times. Imagined you under me, over me. Being inside you. Jerked off enough damn times.” He reveals as you grind down onto him.

You moan softly, imagining him with his cock in his hand, panting your name. “I want to see that sometime.” You admit breathlessly. “Watch you jerk off.”

"Fuck. One day." He promises, grabbing your ass to lift you so he can spin and lay you down on the bed. "Look goddamn sexy in your costume." He groans, caressing your calf. "Tell me what you want, baby." He demands, reaching for the zipper of your boot.

“Want to ride you.” You decide. “Keep your cowboy hat and boots on.” You smirk and wink. “Want to see if you live up to the expectations I’ve built up seeing you wear that costume.”

He smirks, “I hope I can. It’s been a while.” He confesses as he reaches up to start unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his chest to your hungry gaze.

You reach up and caress his chest. “That doesn’t matter.” You promise. “I just want to feel you inside me.” He peels your boots off and reaches for your bottom. “I’m going to strip you down.” He promises and you nod. “Do it.”

He peels the costume from your body, his cock aching in his jeans at each inch that’s exposed to his hungry gaze, and he has to reach down to undo the buckle, opening his pants to allow himself some relief from the hard press of the zipper. “Shit. You’re gorgeous.” He murmurs, caressing your stomach until he’s reaching for the hem of the top, dragging it from your body to expose your tits. “Goddamn beautiful.” He murmurs when he tosses the top aside and dives down to take your nipple into his mouth as he kneels on the bed.

Your cry is loud but you know that no one in the party can hear you. The music is still thumping and you can hear the chattering. Not that you care, all you care about is him. His mouth feels so good on your nipple it hurts, making you whine when he flicks his tongue over it after biting down. “Joel.” You pant, tangling your fingers into his hair.

He loves hearing your moan and he bites down on the bud, lapping at it with his tongue, before he switches to the other one. His thumb and forefinger pinching your hardened nipple that’s slick with his spit.

You’ve never had someone spend so much time on your tits. Not without being inside you. You enjoy the attention, every pull of his mouth and pinch of your nipple makes your cunt throb around nothing and you are positively dripping.

His free hand slides up your inner thigh, caressing the skin there and he slides his touch higher so he can slide his fingers through your folds. “Fuck. You’re so wet.” He murmurs against your breast.

“So turned on.” You confess. You moan his name again when he continues to slowly stroke through your folds, fingers brushing against your clit. “Fuck baby.”

He groans, “me too. So fucking hard right now.” He confesses as he presses his fingers against your clit, wanting to hear you moan for him again.

You groan, reaching down and cupping him through his jeans. “Fuck.” You gasp, knowing that he will stretch you out when you feel how thick he is. “So hard.”

“Shit.” He hisses when you squeeze him and he slides his hand lower so he can push two thick digits into your weeping cunt, wanting to hear you gasp again. “Take me out.” He pleads, kissing your jaw, “need to feel your hand around him.”

You fumble with his zipper blindly, eager to feel the heft in your hand, to feel how soft and hard he is. Joel pulls his hips back to give you more room and you both groan in unison when he comes free from his underwear and lands into your palm.

He groans when you finally grip him in your soft palm, loving the way you squeeze him, and he’s so hard. He’s aching for you and his fingers work in and out of you, desperate to hear you cry out his name.

Your eyes slide closed, twisting your wrist to pump his cock as much as you can while his fingers destroy you. They are just as thick and wonderful as you imagined. Rough, his hands are calloused and imperfect from the manual labor of his job, scrubbing perfectly inside your walls to make you choke out his name every time he curls them deep.

Your choked version of his name has him groaning yours as you try to pump his cock in your soft hand. He twists his wrist, pressing his thumb to your clit to hear the sweet cry of your orgasm. He desperately wants it. His lips find yours again and he slides his tongue into your mouth, wanting to devour you.

Your hips roll up, eager to have him push his fingers deep every time he pulls them back. You feel that lovely tension curling in your stomach and you want more, crave it. He is just as overwhelming as you had imagined. Completely taking control and showing a confidence that is undeniably sexy.

Your walls flutter and clamp down on his fingers, making him grin against your chin, and he desperately wants you to fall apart for him. “Cum for me, baby.” He murmurs, nipping your jaw as he curls his fingers and presses his thumb against your clit.

It takes a few more pumps of his fingers before you are flying. Your walls lock down around his fingers and soak him with a wave of hot liquid juice that just continues to come in wave after wave while he continues to curl his fingers deep. Crying out his name loudly, nearly a sob and you shake under him.

“Holy fuck.” He groans when you grip his fingers in your walls and he loves how hot and wet you get. He can’t wait to feel that around his cock. “That’s it, baby. Such a good girl for me.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck as he works you through it.

You whimper, knowing that he could call you a good girl for the rest of your life and it would still make your stomach curl in pleasure. Your legs feel like jello when he finally pulls his fingers free and kisses your lips. “Fuck, Miller.” You pant. “Get on your back.”

He grunts as he shifts to lay against the pillows, pupils blown wide as he watches you while you shift to your wobbly knees. "So fucking gorgeous." He murmurs, his gaze dropping to your tits and he can't help reaching down to squeeze his hard cock.

You bite your lip when your thighs are straddling him, immediately moving and grinding down on his cock as soon as he moves his hand. Grinning when he moans your name and swivel your hips again. “Put your hat back on, cowboy.” You tease, leaning down and kissing him passionately.

He fumbles blindly to grab his hat from the nightstand and he puts it on while his tongue tangles with yours while you grind down onto him. “Shit. Co-condom?” He rasps, knowing it’s been forever and a day since he’s had sex but he wants you to be comfortable.

“Fuck.” You don’t have one, but you think you will cry if you have to stop right now. “I don’t- I’m clean.” You mumble against his lips, pulling back to look into his eyes. “I’m on birth control.”

“I’m clean and I - I trust you.” He promises, knowing he shouldn’t take the chance after Katie left him high and dry but he’s aching and he knows you wouldn’t lie to him. “Take what you want, baby.” He demands, his hands finding your ass to squeeze before he playfully slaps your cheeks, “ride a cowboy.”

You moan, reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock as you lift up to move him into position. “Gonna ride you ‘til you pass out.” You tease, winking at him right before you start to impale yourself on his length with a loud moan.

When you start to sink down onto his cock, he hisses and his fingers dig into your ass, exhaling through his nose to control himself as he watches your facial expressions while he stretches you out. “Feel good?” He smirks, voice heavy with lust as he slides one hand up to squeeze your breast.

“Yes, fuck.” Your eyes close and you clench down around him. “You’re so much thicker than my ex.” You admit breathlessly, not even thinking that he might not want to be reminded that you had just broken up with someone.

He chuckles, pinching your nipple. "Good, gonna make sure you don't remember his fucking name after tonight." He promises and kisses along your jaw, "want you to scream my name only."

“What ex?” You joke, groaning when he nibbles on your ear. “Fuck, Joel.” You sit up, bracing your hands on his chest and look down on him. He looks sexy under you. “You have a great cock.” You praise, starting to bounce on it. “I’m going cum all over it.”

Your words make him twitch inside you and he slaps your tit, wanting you to squeal. You start to rock on top of him and the sight is gorgeous but he reaches for the hat on his head. He takes it off and places it on your head. “Sexy as fuck.” He murmurs, watching you as your tits move.

You giggle as you ride him, leaning over to press against his chest and bounce harder. He feels incredible inside you, his cock punching deep enough to feel like he’s in your throat and you start to rock harder on him. “Fuck, fuck Joel!”

“That’s it, baby. Shit. Take what you want. God, you look so gorgeous ridin’ my cock.” He coos as his dark eyes trail down to watch where his cock disappears inside of you.

He doesn’t have the exaggerated drawl of a cowboy, but that gravely, raspy pitch to his voice makes your cunt clench around him as he praises you. Loving how he seems to be obsessed with you moving on top of him. Those hands caress you from your tits to your thighs.

Your moans make him twitch inside you and he digs his heels into the mattress, unable to stop himself from thrusting up into you with a groan. “You gonna cum for me, baby?” He asks, his hands sliding up to pinch your nipples and twist them slightly.

“Yessssss.” You hiss, clenching down around him and circling your hips. “Your fucking cock is so deep inside me.” You moan. “You’re in my throat. How the fuck did no one want to ride this cock every night?”

Joel doesn’t mention his ex at this moment but he’s been hesitant to get involved with anyone since she left him with a baby and walked out the door. It’s been hard and he’s finally taking time for himself. He’s going to let you take what you want from him. “Wanna see you cum again.” He rasps, groaning when you clench around him, getting closer.

“I will.” You moan, bouncing on his cock faster and gasping out when he pushes against a perfect spot deep inside you. “God I want to cum all over you.”

"Do it." He pleads, his jaw clenched as he tries to focus on not cumming before you. It's been too long since all he had was his hand. He groans and slides his hand between you, finding your clit to rub, needing you to fall apart for him.

That little nudge of his fingers is all you need. Crying out his name so loud it’s almost a scream you shake apart on top of him, clenching down on his cock and creaming all over it as your hips stutter and you collapse against his chest to press your lips to his breathlessly.

He pulls his hand from between you, his arms wrapping around you and he is desperate to cum. He thrusts up into you, hissing at the way you clench around him. So tight he can barely thrust up into you, and he groans as he pushes deep and finally lets go. He paints your walls with his hot cum, a pant of your name escapes his lips as the breath is knocked from him.

You pant as he relaxes underneath you. Both of you are trying to catch your breath. “Wow.” His cowboy hat is pushed back, falling off your back and you start to giggle in pleasure. Amazed at how good that was. “Good ride, cowboy.”

He chuckles, heart pounding in his chest as he caresses your back, “fuck, my fantasies didn’t do you justice. You are incredible.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder and up your neck.

You hum in agreement. He cock is softening inside you but you don’t even have the strength to move off of him. “Much better than getting drunk downstairs.”

Joel smiles, “absolutely. I, uh, wouldn’t mind doing it again. And again.” He confesses with a softness to his voice as he caresses you. “I’ve wanted you for a while. Do you, maybe, uh, wanna go out sometime?” He asks, wanting you to know this isn’t just a quick fuck at a party.

“Of course I do.” You smirk, pulling back and giving him a small wink. “How else will I be able to ride this construction cowboy anytime I want?” You joke, happy that Lindsey had convinced you to come to this party tonight. This was much better than eating too much candy on your sofa all alone. “Although next time, I want to see that fucking tool belt on your hips. Do you know how sexy that is?”

Joel actually blushes and he shakes his head, "I didn't know. Tool belt...I can make that happen." He promises and leans in to kiss you again. You groan after you pull back, shifting off of him and he reaches down to tuck his soft cock away. "I know I come as a package deal but Sarah loves you. She thinks you are cool as shit. She will be part of the deal if we - you know?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I know that.” You promise him. “Never would have thought any different. Sarah is your world. I respect that. She is the first priority in your life, like she should be. I would just like to spend some time with you, and her. I want to see where this could go.” You smile. “It’s not like we live far apart.” You remind him, knowing that it would be a good thing to be so close, unless things don’t work out.

Joel nods, “yeah. Yeah. I just - not everyone wants a single dad.” He admits and you reach out to caress his cheek, “a hot single dad. One I want to fuck.” You giggle and Joel blushes again, “I can definitely arrange that. You want another drink? Some snacks?” He offers, knowing he won’t want to leave the guest room for quite some time. You nod and he shifts off the bed, adjusting his jeans and he puts his shirt back on. He grabs his hat and places it on his head, a wink towards you as he opens the door, “I’ll be right back.” He promises and steps out of the guest room. Making his way downstairs barefoot, he passes couples and friends until he sees Tommy who asks where you are. “She’s upstairs.” Joel confesses, biting his lip, and Tommy smacks him on the shoulder.

“Fucking finally, man. Good for you. You two make a cute couple. Don’t fuck it up.” Tommy raises his eyebrows and Joel nods, “only thing that’s gonna fuck this up is a goddamn zombie apocalypse.” He jokes and Tommy snorts, “you deserve to be happy, man.” Joel thanks him, grabbing the food and drinks to make his way back upstairs. He’s excited for the future. A future with you.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller tlou #halloween 2024

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louisbxne · 1 month ago

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The Sixth Sense (1999)

#the sixth sense #cole sear #lynn sear #haley joel osment #toni collette #horroredit #horror #filmedit #dailywomen #spooky season #spooky month #halloween

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spookykoolkat · 1 year ago

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kinktober | grateful - j.m.

kinktober day nine - cockwarming

pairing: joel miller x plus size!reader

wc: 2.17k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

that made a small smile tug on his lips.

“let me walk ya home,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he craved you, even in his sleep.

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

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

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

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

TAGLIST

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milla-frenchy · 10 days ago

Text

October 31

2k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller | ao3 | masterlist Summary: you go out to meet your two fwb for Halloween, a perfect evening for urban exploration

Warnings: 18+ mdni. noncon by manipulation, glove kink, mask kink, mfm, degradation, oral (m), piv, creampie. Age gap unspecified

a/n: thanks for the ask, @megangovier 😘❤️ I took some liberties and turned it into something a little different. I hope you’ll like it 🙏❤️

This is written for @mermaidgirl30 's Halloween writing challenge Thank you for the event 🎃👻

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing, ily 😘🫶 dividers @/saradika-graphics 🙏

October 31.

Your favorite day of the year. The day of costumes and night outs in such a special atmosphere.

You had just left Joel Miller's house, after going to see his daughter Sarah. She was a really lovely kid, curious and funny, and you had stayed in touch, even if she didn't need a babysitter anymore. She would have loved to come with you tonight, but you couldn't take her. You and your friends had been doing urban exploration for a few months, and tonight you were going to explore an abandoned hospital that you had spotted. You couldn't take the responsibility of taking her, and you knew her father would never agree anyway.

Not to mention that you were going there with your two friends with benefits, Randy and Cotton, and you didn't want to give up on an outing that could lead to something spicier.

You had agreed to meet at the old doctors' entrance. The sign was still there, above the door, even if it was only hanging on one side. Your two friends were waiting for you, behind the front door, dressed as Ghostface: masks, capes, black shoes and gloves. One of them had the famous fake knife, and the other - a shotgun which he leaned nonchalantly against his shoulder.

“Very original,” you laughed when you entered the building. “Are you gonna ask me about my favorite horror movie, too?”

They chuckled, the sound half muffled by their masks, and you walked down the hospital hallway. When you passed the first door, they signaled to you not to make any noise, a gloved index finger in front of their mouth, at the same time. You were always silent when you visited a place, to be sure to hear every possible noise.

The place was very run-down, littered with debris. You reached for an electrical panel and flicked it without much hope, but the lights came on. Some were broken, some were flickering, but you could see a little better than with your flashlights. A wheelchair was in the middle of the hallway. A lot of equipment had been broken.

At the end of the corridor there was a staircase that led to the upper floors. Cotton walked past. You knew it was him because he was the shorter one. You followed him, Randy closing the way. He caressed your ass with his gloved hand as you walked up, making you giggle. You swayed your hips to tease him and he squeezed your ass cheek. You could have sworn you heard him mumble something, but you couldn't clearly hear what escaped his lips.

You kept exploring, and reached the top floor. The rooms were less damaged, but the lighting didn't work there and you had to use your flash lights to illuminate your way. When you reached the last room, Randy approached you and brushed your cheek with his gloved hand, then your neck. Squeezing it lightly between his fingers.

“I’m glad I told you about my glove kink,” you breathed in his ear. “It’s a perfect day to please me with it.”

He groaned, his other hand gripping your ass and pressing you against his already hard cock.

“Well, well… someone’s in the mood…” you smiled.

Your other friend came closer, pressing himself against your back. He was hard too. Randy grabbed his crotch in his hand and palmed himself slowly. He tilted his head to the side, pressing the tip of his knife to his temple. With your ass against Cotton's cock, you were breathless as you were watching your friend, in this costume, touch himself. Then he took your hand and placed it on his length. He was so hard that you already couldn’t wait for them to fuck you, however they wanted to.

They had brought a voice distorter and he turned it on, for the first time since you were here.

“Blow me, sweetheart,” he said, without hesitation in the voice distorted by the device. You were a little surprised by his confidence, but it suited the character after all. He took his cock out as you knelt down, knees in the dust, and licked the tip that he was holding towards you. His scent was stronger than usual, but it was turning you on. You rounded your lips around the tip, greedy to taste him there, in that place, head already boobing, his strong precum flowing down your throat. Everything was arousing you: the place, the situation, the darkness. Part of you was a little worried that another group could still come in, but you knew your friends were there to protect you.

When the second cock appeared in front of you, you were surprised. This was new. The three of you often fucked, but your friends never got this close to each other. You released the cock in your mouth with a pop, your face rose to the two of them, and you smiled. You didn’t wait and sucked the tip. You were horny as hell.

Your first friend - Randy - put his hand on the back of your head, and pushed you further towards the cock in your mouth. You moaned and slid your hand under your Halloween costume, then into your panties. Unable to resist the primal need that enveloped you. He kept pressing on your head to take the other cock deeper in your mouth. Cotton was pushing further too, until his tip hit the back of your throat. Randy held you in place, saying “look at that, ain’t she a good girl?” in the voice distorter.

“Yeah, that’s a really, really good girl…turning into a perfect slut for these cocks,” the other replied in the device.

You whimpered, his cock in your mouth. He released you and you felt that your fingers were covered by your wetness. Turned on by their attitude, their confidence.

“Fuck me, I need it,” you asked with a desire in your voice.

“Come here,” Randy ordered. “Wanna feel this slutty mouth again.”

“Fuck… you’re turning me on like never before, when you speak to me like that,” you breathed, turning to Randy.

“Yeah, we learnt our lesson,” Cotton added as he positioned himself behind you. He pressed the back of your neck to make you lean forward towards Randy’s cock which he was holding close to your mouth. Randy brushed his gloved finger against your folds then pushed it in slightly. The new sensation of the leather inside you made you whine, just before the cock in front of you nudged your lips. You opened them, eager to have his taste in your mouth again. His thickness. Behind you, Cotton caressed your folds and your clit, before pushing in two fingers, still gloved. The feeling was overwhelming. Then he pulled his hand away, and you moaned at the loss.

“Our little whore needs more,” Randy chuckled, balls deep in your mouth.

“We’re gonna give her what she wants. She’s gonna take-” he said, suddenly thrusting his cock in your core “-what she needs.”

“Fuck, Cotton?!” you exclaimed as you pulled away under his roughness, just before Randy went back in, almost forcing you on his cock.

“Shut up and take it. And don’t stop blowing me. Oh fuck, your mouth is so good, baby.”

They were passing the device around, using your body, moving it forward and backward depending on when the cock was thrusting in your pussy, and when the other was sinking into your throat.

“Fuck, man, she’s so good.”

“Told ya she’d love being fucked in here.”

You freed your mouth, just long enough to say “so you talk about me when I’m not there? To decide how or where you’re gonna fuck me?”

“Yeah,” Randy replied, before sliding his cock between your lips again. “We talked about this night a lot, baby.”

“Mmmm…,” you hummed against the shaft fucking your mouth.

“Damn man, that was such a good idea.”

They high fived above your back, the clap ringing in the silence of the room, before you heard moans and growls again, and skin against skin.

They used your body, groaning more and more, telling what a slut you were, taking both of their cocks there. You pulled back just enough to remove the cock from your mouth, jerking the shaft covered in your saliva.

“Aren’t you afraid that we’ll make too much noise? That someone could come here?”

“Don’t worry sweetheart. Even if someone comes, there’s no way they’d touch you. This pussy’s ours, and only ours right now.”

Randy shoved his cock into your mouth again, stopping you from responding.

“Fuck, her mouth’s heaven. Did you think you’d get spit roasted, baby? Taking two cocks in here?”

“uh hu,” you mumbled, mouth full.

“You wanna switch, man? I wanna fuck this cunt.”

“Yeah! Lemme feed her mouth again.”

They turned places so quickly that you didn't have time to straighten up, and they immediately stuffed you full again.

“Oh damn. Her cunt’s fucking soaked...”

“Yeah, I spread her wide. Huh, baby?”

Randy’s gloved hand brushed your clit, surprisingly softly as his other hand gripped your hip tightly and he kept thrusting in your cunt.

“You’re gonna come, baby? You’re gonna come while we use you like a fuck doll, filling your two slutty holes?”

“Mmmm,” you mumbled again, as Cotton held your cheeks tightly in his hands, moaning louder and louder, until he stilled, cock buried in your mouth, and his cum spurted against the back of your throat. He held you in place, panting, breathing heavily, until you pulsed on Randy’s shaft, moans muffled by the thick cock still in your mouth.

Cotton didn’t let go of you, until you heard Randy breathe heavily. He fucked you harder, faster, hands firmly buried in the flesh of your hips.

They both held you until he came too, long jets of hot sperm filling the bottom of your pussy.

They finally released you, mouth and pussy filled. You thought that it was the best October 31st of your life.

You smiled blissfully as you got up, and placed a kiss on the covered cheeks of each of them. Cotton gave you some water from his backpack, before you walked to the ground floor, then to the parking lot. They waited for you to leave, waving at you when you looked at them. The knife and the gun in their other hands.

The next afternoon, you went to see Sarah to surprise her. You told her about the hospital, without mentioning the final part, of course. While she was preparing lunch for the two of you, you asked her for the Scream DVD you had lent her. You wanted to watch it again that night. She told you to get it back from her father's room.

"I didn't know your father liked horror movies?"

"Me neither, actually," she replied with a shrug. “He told me he wanted to watch it. It surprised me too.”

You went upstairs and entered Joel's bedroom. He had a TV on the dresser, and you approached it to get the DVD that was probably there.

A backpack on the floor caught your eye. A Ghostface mask was sticking out of it. A lump formed in your stomach, but you didn’t really understand why. Halloween had just passed. What could be more common than those masks? Even your friends were wearing them last night.

Though, curiosity got over you, and you grabbed the backpack and put it on the bed then opened it wider. You took out two masks, leather gloves and two long black capes.

Your instinct made the ball in your stomach double in size. You went back down, trembling.

“Did you spend yesterday’s evening with your dad, Sarah?”

“No, he had some work to do with Tommy. He came home late.”

You smiled mechanically before grabbing your phone, and frantically searched for Randy’s name.

“Did you get home safely last night, after the hospital?”

“What are you talking about? I sent you a message telling you we couldn't go?”

Your hand clenched your phone when you hung up, your body frozen. You remembered the evening before, hearing Sarah’s father come down the stairs from her bedroom, walking into the dining room. You remembered you heard him on the phone “Tommy? Yeah, everything’s ready.”

You remembered the moment you left the Millers’. after taking your phone that you had left on their dining room table. Unattended.

An icy feeling ran down your spine, when you remembered all that.

You thought about the looks Joel Miller gave you sometimes. You thought of last Sunday, when Sarah had invited you to lunch. Tommy Miller had opened the door for you, his gaze sliding over you up and down without any discretion. Then the look he exchanged with his brother.

You barely had time to open the front door and threw up in the driveway.

“Something got stuck in your throat, sweetheart?” Joel asked you as he got out of his truck, after parking.

Tommy chuckled, joining his brother in front of you. Their posture seemed all too familiar to you, suddenly. The same smirk crossed their faces.

You threw up again.

Thank you for reading 🙏

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animasola86 · 12 days ago

Text

🎃 A NIGHT TO REMEMBER

misc!monsters x f!reader 🔥 words: 1.5k

You are invited to a Halloween party in a mysterious house, promising a night full of surprises. Are you ready for this adventure?

GENERAL WARNINGS/SPOILERS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Sex with strangers! Knife kink! Slimes and tentacles! Werewolves! Vampires! (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: Welcome to this CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE smut series! Please enjoy this "prologue" that will lead you into a night you won't forget! After setting the scene, you will have three choices as to what happens next! (You can also read these chapters in succession, whatever you like best!)

Staring up at the large house, you realize you have no idea where you are. You've lived here your whole life and yet you've never seen this particular house. You'd clearly remember it. It's too fancy not to notice. Old. Dark woods and black metal elements. Gothic almost. Definitely not your typical house, not around these parts.

You'd figured it might just be a themed hotel that had its grand opening only recently, hence why you've never heard of it before. The invitation came a few days ago, and quite frankly, at the best time possible. You didn't have plans for Halloween, and you were not in the mood to open your door to random kids that evening either, so being called away onto the countryside, to this fancy place even, and all of it for free? Hell yeah.

Your Uber driver had been a little confused by the address, but somehow still found the hidden place. And now you look upon the large entrance doors, and despite being alone, you are intrigued. This is an adventure, a step away from your boring day-to-day life. Sure it was all a little ominous, with this mysterious invitation and all, but you figured you've been randomly selected maybe, perhaps won something for the first time in your life? You should probably be more suspicious, but then again, why not?

You are young, this is Halloween, why not live a little, right?

Fumbling the sturdy envelope out of your purse and the thick paper out of its sheath, you take another glance at the printed words:

Welcome to a night you'll never forget! Come and enjoy an evening full of surprises! You are invited to party, drink and eat like you've never had before! Your adventure awaits! Stay till the morning breaks, if you can. Come in costume. Stay for free. Happy Halloween!

You chose to dress like Little Red Riding Hood, mainly because you had the short skirt, the blouse and the red cape from your last costume party, and you couldn't be bothered to buy a new one. Putting your hair into braided pigtails added to the innocence you tried to portray, and who knows, maybe you'll find a nice guy in a wolf costume to match your freak? You don't expect much, but that's usually the best thing to do anyway. It can only get better then.

Yet when you enter the house, its windows lit up by bright colorful lights, the low bass of the music making the floorboards vibrate, you realize this might just be your typical Halloween party. From the lobby you can take a look into the adjacent rooms, fancy sitting rooms with fireplaces, already filled to the brim with people in costumes.

You see a group of masked serial killers, from Ghostface to Michael Myers, there's even Freddy Krueger and the guy in the hockey mask whose name you always forget. The sight of them would normally scare you, but these guys stand around a beer pong table, and whenever they throw the ball into a cup, they lift their masks and expose their rather normal looking faces to drink it, acting like the frat boys they probably are.

In another corner you see a bunch of girls, cheerleaders, you'd say, all dressed very skimpy, but you are indoors (and you are dressed a little similar also, so you shouldn't judge), but seeing a sexy ladybug next to a sexy office lady, laughing with a sexy cow girl (as in cow girl, literally, with black and white spots and very distinctive udders), it does look a little ridiculous. Well, at least they all found their crowd.

As you turn your head to look around more, walking up to the large staircase leading to the upper floors, you are suddenly startled by a waitress carrying a tray with little shot glasses filled with a green liquid. “Oh,” you make, as you take a step back to not walk into her.

She smiles at you, her eyes sparkling under the light of the large chandelier above you, holding out the tray. “Welcome to the mansion!” she tells you. “Please, have a complimentary drink!”

You look at the shots and hesitate. Looks like jello shots. Vodka and gelatin never sounded appealing to you, but you told yourself to enjoy the night, let loose for once, so you grab one small glass and give the waitress a nod. She quickly hurries off again, focusing on another group of people filtering into the house. Looking around, you try not to dwell too much on the drink you slowly put to your lips. There's a strangely earthy smell to it. Ugh, probably some herbal liqueur to add to the green coloring of it.

Inhaling deeply, you tilt your head back and gulp down the shot in one go, feeling it slide down your throat, as slimy and unpleasant as you would have expected. But it does give you a little buzz, and that's a start, isn't it? Clearing your throat, you look around for the waitress or a place to discard your empty shot glass, and suddenly she's back, picking the glass out of your hand, gently nudging you further into the house.

As you enter one of the sitting rooms, you find yourself among more groups of people, laughing and chatting and having fun, their costumes ranging from vastly unimaginative (one guy just wears a white T-shirt that says This is my costume) to extremely elaborate and fancy. Leave it to the Goths to really celebrate this day. You admire their beautiful gowns and make-up a little longer as you feel your stomach churning slightly. You should have eaten more before you came here, you realize, but luckily you then come across a large banquet table filled with food and drinks.

There's a big bowl of chips, but there are also a couple of three-tiered platters filled with little canapés, and you decide to try the more fancy stuff first. As you put various things on your napkin (things you've never seen before and couldn't possibly name), you look around the nicely decorated rooms. They do look old and out of a different time period, even the furniture looks as vintage as it can get. There's a lot of dark woods and wallpapers with intricate designs, also countless ancient looking paintings of landscapes and people in period clothing, and to make it look really halloweeny the whole space is plastered in fake-looking cobwebs, with plastic spiders and bats hanging from the ceiling and walls.

The lighting is different in each room, from bright green to dark red, flowery pink and icy blue. You admire the work that went into decorating the place like this. You've certainly never been to a party like this before. It looks perfect. The food is good, the music isn't too loud or obnoxious and fits the vibe pretty good (you recognize a few horror film soundtracks), it seems like a good Halloween party. You don't regret coming here at all, though the social aspect still feels a little daunting. All these people stand in groups, laughing together, and you seem to be the only one who came alone.

You don't normally mind it that much, being alone, most of your friends had other plans or were too busy to indulge in some childish little party. It sucks to be in that age group where half of your acquaintances try to be the adults they supposedly are now, while the other half can't let go of their youth, but even those thought this party seemed lame, and as you are right in the middle, unsure where you fit, you decided to just go alone, hoping you'd meet someone here.

Maybe a bit more alcohol will help you get closer to the other guests. Shoving something baked into your mouth, you turn to the drinks. A bowl of fruit punch calls your name, but then you see the beer cans and grab one of those instead. You already drank that ominous jello shot, you shouldn't risk whatever was swimming inside that punch bowl. Cracking open the can, you take a swig, feeling the refreshing beverage rush down your esophagus, but as soon as it fills your stomach, another churn goes through you. Then a cramp.

Oh dear. Leave it to your sensitive guts to ruin a good night out. Putting down the drink and food, you press a hand to your belly and turn back, looking around for the bathroom you clearly need now. You push past people dancing to the music or standing in clusters, laughing and chatting, you even pass the occasional love or horn dog unable to hide their desires as they make out right there in the middle of the room, until you find a long hallway. You'd expect a long line in front of the bathroom as is usually the case at these parties, but you are the only one in the hallway.

It's lined with intricate wooden doors, left and right, and one at the end. No sign or anything to indicate what's behind them. Feeling another cramp, you let out a groan and stare from door to door.

Where to go?

You now have these choices:

Do you...

...reach for the door closest to you?

...go through the door a few feet on your right?

...walk all the way to the last door that seems to lead outside?

ALL PARTS: 1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6

End notes: By the way, justice for our boy Jason Voorhees, of course I remember his name, poor reader just isn't focused on serial killers that much. Or is she? :3

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

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toxicanonymity · 2 years ago

Note

Halloween anon did mean the latest gif set you reblogged lol. Your writing is so immersive! 🚬💚

Helping stepdad!Joel with his tie

500 / stepdad!Joel x f!reader

Halloween Anon asked: The gif set of Pedro doing his tie makes me think of like stepdad! Joel or DBF!Joel dressing up as the devil or a vampire for Halloween and it gets hot. I needed to tell someone that. / gif from @pedgito / dbf version here

The last time you saw Joel in something other than joggers and a t-shirt was Halloween. You came over to ride with your Mom and Joel to a family friend’s Halloween party an hour away. Your mom wasn’t really dressed up but had an angel halo and wings. You were in a short, red, bat-print dress and fishnets. You already sent him a snapchat earlier to which he sent a snap of his hand resting against an obvious bulge in his joggers with the caption, “Jesus, you really need to wear that?”

“Joel, we’re gonna be late!” your Mom called upstairs, then asked you “Would you go see what’s taking him so long?” Meanwhile, your Mom went to take the dog for a walk.

You went up to their bedroom and saw Joel concentrating really hard trying to do his tie in the mirror. Poor guy probably wears a tie less than once per year. You slinked up and hugged him from behind. His shirt was stretched over his pecs.

“What are you doin’ in here?” he asked and shrugged you off, looking nervously at the door.

“She’s walking the dog. Told me to check on you. Can I help?”

“No. Still don’t know why the hell you’re wearin’ that, either.” You wrapped your arms around him again and watched in the mirror as he continued to struggle with the tie. He either didn’t want to shrug you off again or was concentrating too hard to care.

You ran your hand up his stomach then grabbed a pec, and you watched in the mirror as a tent grew in his pants.

“Can I help with that?” You slid your other hand lower, but when you got to his belt, he turned around and said. “The tie. Fine. You can help with the tie.”

You took one side of the tie in each hand and pulled him into you. He looked straight up at the ceiling, getting his head out of the way. You pressed your nose against his neck and inhaled his balmy aftershave, dragging your nose a few inches. You felt something hard against your dress.

“Let’s get on with it,” he said, glancing toward the door again.

“You’re telling me,” you said.

“With the tie. Just finish the damn tie.”

You finished the tie quite easily. You started to flip the collar down then said “I kinda like it up.”

“I look like a vampire with it up,” he replied. You kind of liked the idea of secretly coordinating with him – you covered in bats, he as a vampire, same color scheme.

You pressed yourself up against him for a hug and he indulged you for a moment. He inhaled your hair and ran his hand down the back of your dress, grabbing a handful of ass. The hard shape swelled against your dress and made you throb.

The front door opened downstairs and your Mom was back with the dog. “ALL READY UP THERE?” she screamed.

“Yep! All good,” you yelled back.

He put down his collar and grabbed his devil horns which were actually pretty well done You looked down at his pants and he rolled his eyes and adjusted himself before going downstairs.

“You sure you need to wear that?” he murmured again on your way downstairs.

#joel miller x reader #joel miler drabble #stepdad!joel #stepdad!joel☠️#stepdad!joel miller #halloween #pedro pascal #toxicanonymity ☠️#pedro serve #halloween!joel

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manny-jacinto · 1 year ago

Text

RAHUL KOHLI as Sheriff Hassan MIDNIGHT MASS | 2021

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mermaidgirl30 · 1 month ago

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✨On My Knees for You✨

Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

A/N: I’ve been wanting to do a fic for a while that was all about making Joel Miller feel good. So thank you to @lotusbxtch and @mountainsandmayhem for feeding me ideas and letting me scream with you about this one 🩵 I wrote this one for my Halloween writing event!

This is a one-shot for my series Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller. It takes place a little over a year into their relationship. I hope you enjoy these two love birds! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading 🩵

Summary: You’re supposed to be getting ready for a Halloween party, but maybe you’ll just have to be late because all you can think about is getting on your knees and making Joel Miller feel so good.

Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: Porn with plot, getting ready for a Halloween party, angel and devil couples costumes, cock/ball worshipping, deepthroating, dirty talking, pet names, use of daddy, no use y/n, age gap (reader late 20’s, Joel late 40’s), teasing

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Sparkles shimmer across your light pink eyeshadow, sprinkling down your glowing cheeks. Dark red lipstick stains your lips a cherry-coated color. The black eyeliner that’s sharpened into pointy cat eyes makes your eyes pop under the fluorescent lights of the bathroom. Your hair spirals into perfect waves as you adjust the halo that sits atop the crown of your head. With one more spritz of cotton candy perfume, you’re ready for the Halloween party.

When you exit the bathroom, you linger in the full-length mirror, adjusting the feathery wings that lay flat against your back. You circle slowly, examining your lacey angel costume for the Halloween party. One that Joel was taking you to, even if he wasn’t normally one to get excited to dress up or participate in Halloween parties. He was doing it for you. Plus, you might’ve got Tommy and Maria to convince him to go.

He eventually gave in after a few times of pressing, but he’d never say no to you. He was always going to go, if that’s what you wanted. Because he loves you and would do just about anything for you, even wear matching couples costumes. One an angel, the other a devil.

You giggle as you think of the events that unraveled over the past few months. Joel Miller, your father’s best friend, the man who was off-limits to you for so long was now your boyfriend. It was all a silly little flirting game until it wasn’t. All that changed when he gave in and kissed you under his living room lights a little over a year ago. Back when he gave you that handsy guitar lesson that turned into crowding your body and fucking you relentlessly into the leather of his couch.

You still remember it so clearly. Just like it was yesterday. His plush lips nipping at your delicate neck, licking flames into your sweat-coated skin. His meaty hands teasing up your thighs, enticing words making you give in, his smoldering eyes lighting you on fire as he slipped two fingers beneath your drenched lace. And then, you were gone.

And now? The two of you were unstoppable, unbreakable. Two flames that couldn’t burn without the other. He was your favorite part of every day. Your infinite. Even if your father wasn’t thrilled when he found out, he eventually came around. And now, Joel Miller was all yours.

The almost sheer mini skirt barely grazes the tops of your thighs, your thigh-high shimmering tights teasing your tanned skin. The white satin corset hugs your curves tightly, silk ribbon spilling underneath your pushed-up breasts, sparkly heels flashing diamonds under the dim lights of Joel’s room.

He’s going to absolutely lose it when he sees you in this sexy getup. Especially when he gets a peek at your new lacey white panties. The ones you’re hoping he’ll rip off later tonight.

You hear him shuffling around downstairs, truck keys jangling by the front door, leather boots making their way toward the staircase. Suddenly, you have the best idea. A little Halloween treat to satisfy his hunger. The kind of surprise that’ll leave him tongue tied and speechless.

You perch yourself on the edge of the bed, letting the navy comforter pull up your mini skirt higher, almost exposing your brand new lingerie. You arch your back, lean against your hands and wait with bated breath for him to find you all splayed out just for him. Like a present he’ll get to savor over and unwrap slowly.

You can’t wait to see his reaction.

His heavy footsteps shake beneath the wooden steps, voice deep and booming as he shouts up to the bedroom. “Baby, you almost ready? Think Tommy’s gonna beat us there.”

“Mhm. Can you come here for a second? Need a little help with something,” you call out, pushing your breasts together so he gets the best view of your sexy Halloween costume.

It was your idea to go as an angel this year, and Joel chose to be a handsome devil. And God, he was handsome alright. Even if he chose to wear his favorite green flannel and dark blue jeans. He pulled it off just fine with red devil horns and a glowing pitchfork.

Two more steps and he’s turning right into the room, his broad body filling the expanse of the doorframe. “Okay, sweetheart. But we gotta… go.” He freezes in the doorway, wide brown eyes gawking at you as his mouth drops to the floor.

And… jackpot.

“Surprise,” you say in a lilty voice, biting your bottom lip to tease him even more. Get the blood pumping in just the right places.

“Baby, you’re—you’re…” He drops the plastic pitchfork to the floor with a bang, his mouth hanging open like a thirsty hound dog.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” you tease, sliding your heels along the grey carpet, eyefucking him while you lick your bottom lip enticingly slow.

That does it right there. You can see it in his glassy brown irises. He’s done for.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart. That outfit. It’s—fuck,” he replies, voice husky and shaky from your relentless teasing.

“You like it?” You cock your head and give him a sexy smirk, eyelashes fluttering his way.

He takes a step inside the room and drags a palm over his patchy beard slowly, his eyes gliding down your body like he’s memorizing every single inch of you. “Baby, I don’t like it. I love it. Never seen such a pretty angel look so sexy before. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you beautiful girl.”

“Bought it just for you. And these…” You slowly spread your legs, exposing the lacy panties that are now slick and wet from anticipation of him seeing you.

He audibly groans, curses under his breath as he takes a few steps forward, mouth dropped as his eyes slide over your core.

“Don’t you dare start that. Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growls, his towering body hovering over yours like he’s about to pin you down on the bed. “‘Cause if you do, we ain’t leavin’ this house for another hour.”

You lift your leg and push him back with your bedazzled heel, making him back up a few steps so you can slide down to the floor. He looks at you with questions swirling in his caramel pools, one eyebrow arching as he watches you get on all fours. He mutters a curse under his breath when he realizes what you’re doing.

You’re teasing the hell out of him.

“I just want to do one thing first,” you whisper, voice low as you start to crawl toward him, dragging your hands and knees unhurriedly, clawing the soft carpet until you’re right beneath his looming form.

Your hands languidly snake up his legs, fingernails digging into the denim of his jeans, leisurely making your way to the jagged zipper.

“Baby…” he mutters, choking out when you start palming him through his jeans.

“Joel,” you smirk, working his hard length through the material of his blue jeans. You’re basically drooling at the feel of his thick bulge against the palm of your hand. Can already tell how badly he wants you.

God, it makes more slick run down the gusset of your white lace.

“We’re gonna be late,” he breathes heavily as you pop his top button open and lazily drag the zipper down.

“So, we’ll be late,” you whisper, smiling up at him while you bite your bottom lip seductively. Your hands pull his leather belt through the belt loops, and then you start to shimmy his jeans and black boxers down to the ground.

He places a hand swiftly on yours and halts you before you go any further. “You’re gonna ruin your pretty red lipstick, sweetheart,” he tries to warn, his chocolate eyes growing darker by the second.

“Then let me ruin it.” You push him down into the light brown lounge chair and tug his jeans and boxers down, his cock springing free of the confines of the tight material. You gasp when you see how hard and swollen and thick he is. He looks like a fucking work of art. Art that you want to devour.

“Goddamn it,” he groans as you work his length up and down, hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Sliding the precum that bubbles over his swollen red tip up and down his shaft. Just the way he likes it.

“Let me make you feel good, daddy,” you beg, teasing your tongue over the head of his cock and running it slowly over the slit. He groans as you taste his salty precum. “Wanna taste you, swallow you, choke on you.”

“Yeah?” he croaks, one hand pushing a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear. “My pretty girl wants to choke on me?”

“Mhm,” you hum, licking up the underside of his cock, tongue gliding over the large vein that wraps around his thick length. “Choke me, handsome devil. Wanna gag on your fat cock.”

He grips the back of your hair roughly and pulls hard, forcing your eyes up to meet his deep black pits. But the way he’s smiling at you, a playful smirk curling over his plush mouth, tells you he’s letting you take control just as much as he is. “C’mere then. Be a good girl and wrap those pretty lips around daddy’s cock,” he chuckles darkly. You happily oblige with a smirk.

Taking your time, you kiss up the length of him, languidly flicking and swirling your tongue in circles against his angry tip. You giggle when he curses under his breath and audibly gasps when you take him deep in your mouth. Bobbing your head up and down, you take him deeper and deeper. Until your nose is hitting his coarse, wiry hairs at the base of him, sputtering and choking as his tip kisses the back of your throat.

“Fuckkk, baby,” he whimpers while his hand holds your curls back from getting in the way.

You love to tease him, love to savor his salty flavor all over your tastebuds, let his seed run down the back of your throat when his orgasm bubbles over. You could do this all day. Get down on your knees while he takes you to church with his thick cock thrusting deep inside your throat. Being choked never felt or tasted so good. Not until Joel Miller showed up. Not until you got that first taste of him over a year ago.

You’re addicted, obsessed with making him feel good after he gets home from work. He always makes you feel good, so there’s nothing you love better than making him feel twice as good. He’s a good man, the best you’ve ever had. Now it’s your turn to show him just how much he means to you.

You gag around his hard cock, sputtering as you pull your mouth away, leaving behind a bead of drool that connects from your puffy lower lip and ends at his swollen tip. Your eyes are watery, mascara clumped on your wet eyelashes, and you feel how smeared your red lipstick is. But never mind that because Joel’s looking down at you like you’re the shiniest diamond in the world, pupils blown out and a cheeky grin plastered on his mouth.

“Feel good, daddy?” you ask, hand sliding in smooth motions over his massive cock, tongue licking at the bottom of one of his balls while you continue to fist him up and down, smearing more precum and drool in the process.

He hisses when you begin to suck, drool caking his skin while you start giving the other one attention with your other hand, squeezing and licking back and forth. “Yeah. Feels real good, babygirl. Makin’ daddy feel so good,” he moans while you massage his balls and work your tongue back up his shaft, leaving red lipstick marks all down his ballsack.

You fucking love worshipping his cock, his balls, his everything. And you love the way he moans, bucks his hips when you deepthroat him, mutters out curses when he’s so close to coming undone. You savor his salty taste, memorize his guttural groans, praise the way he moans your name when he’s thrusting deep inside your throat.

You just love him. And you love making the man cum.

Deciding to tease him more, you flick your tongue in tantalizing circles, right over his most sensitive spot where his slit pumps more precum out.

“Babygirl,” he warns in a husky voice, a deep growl biting at the edge of his throat.

“Yes, daddy?” you ask innocently, batting your long eyelashes up at the love of your life.

“I’m gonna need ya to stop teasin’ me, darlin’,” he murmurs, eyes slightly narrowed.

You giggle, popping him out of your mouth for just a second to catch your breath. “Or what?” you challenge, hoping he’ll catch on or give you what you both want.

“You know what,” he smirks, his fingers tangling around your loose curls tightly and drawing you closer.

You tick your head to the side and smirk while he matches your fiery stare. He wants it just as badly as you do because you fucking love to swallow him. “Is the big bad devil going to choke me?”

“Mhm. That’s right, angel. The devil’s gonna choke you alright.” He pushes your head down until your lips are molded to his cock, driving you down down down until you’re gasping for breath. When he brings you back up for air, he has the biggest shit-eating grin on his mouth you’ve ever seen.

“Look at you. Fuckin’ droolin’ and makin’ a mess on my cock, babygirl,” he smirks, pupils blown wide as he takes in your tear-soaked face.

“Mhm. Your mess,” you breathe out with a gasp.

He chuckles and nods his head, his tousled curls now messy and disheveled against his sweat-drenched forehead. “That’s right, love. My mess,” he smiles, his light brown irises glistening under his blown-out pupils. “Wanna deepthroat me, sweetheart?”

You nod up at him with tired eyes, wanting nothing more than to make him cum. “Yes, daddy,” you mewl.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises.

You settle your palms on his strong thighs, hovering just above his swollen tip. He repositions his hand and fists your hair gently, slowly pulling you back down until you’re sliding your pursed lips over his thick length, taking in his deep musk that masks the stifling air.

Taking a deep breath, you get in position and let him work you up and down his length, his hips starting to rut up until he’s fucking your mouth at a rapid pace. You hollow your cheeks, suck him deeper as he thrusts his cock in and out, making you gurgle and gag around his thick width.

“Jesus Christ, takin’ me like such a good girl. Feels—fuck. Feels good, baby. You still okay?” he chokes out, sweat beading down his tanned forehead as you squeeze his thigh and look up at him through watery eyes. The signal you give him to show him you’re just fine.

“I’m so… goddamn it. Need to feel you,” he groans, fucking his cock deeper down your throat. As deep as he can go without suffocating you. You just take it, let him pull your hair forcefully, let him hear just how full of him you are, let him use you to get the release he deserves.

“I’m ’bout to… ‘bout to cum. Ahhhh fuck. Right there. I’m right fuckin’ there,” he moans, throwing his head back as he fucks your throat relentlessly.

The room starts to spin like a tornado as he shoves you down, deepthroating you as much as you can take. Drool coats your chin. Sputtering, obscene noises fill the room as your throat constricts around his fat cock. You have to breathe through your nose to get any airflow because you’re suffocating.

Your vision blackens, throat so full of drool and his cock that you think you’ll pass out. Think you might just see heaven’s gates before Joel orgasms.

Just when you think you’re done for, Joel’s guttural groans pull you out of the fog. Your nose nudges against his coarse hair, lips molded around his huge width, throat open and squeezing around him as tears stream down your ruined face.

“That’s it. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. Want you—want you to swallow,” he moans, fingers locked tight in your hair, pulling your head down until you feel him start to spill.

“Right there. Right—ahhhh fuck.” He’s coming undone, hot ropes of cum leaking down your throat. That salty taste that makes you cross your eyes and suck him down.

You can’t feel anything but his seed coating your throat, cum spilling over your smeared red lips, drool caking your chin and sliding down his balls. He’s fucking wrecked. Just like you are.

You stay right there, hands firmly on his thighs, lapping up the delicious salt of him until he’s slowly coming back down from his high. And then you’re slowly getting pulled off his long length, drool coating his softening cock.

You sputter out, coughing violently from being choked by Joel’s thick cock. His large hand glides between your shoulder blades, trying to help you swallow it all down, get ahold of yourself once more. And when you finally feel like you can breathe the stifling air, you collapse against his thigh, cheek pressed against tanned skin as you focus on deep breaths.

You feel his hand gently massage the back of your scalp, rubbing light circles on the crown of your head as he whispers for you to relax. It feels good. Feels relaxing when he’s caressing you like this. Like you’re his best girl.

You are his best girl.

“Easy now, baby. Jus’ breathe. Did so good for me,” he coos, fingers lacing through your now messy curls. You know you’re a fucking mess, but you just don’t care.

“Did I make you feel good, daddy?” you ask, speech a little slurred and voice hoarse from deepthroating Joel.

He lifts your chin up, index finger and thumb stroking your skin, starting a warm flame kindling in your body. When you lift your eyes, you’re met with warm, syrupy eyes. Eyes that you fell in love with the moment you saw them that first day at the lake.

His smile is so warm, so big. He looks like he has stars in his brown eyes the way he’s looking at you. All in love while his thumb caresses lovingly against your cheek. “Mhm. Made daddy feel real good, pretty girl,” he grins, eyes shimmering like onyx under the dim lights.

God, you love this man.

“Yeah?” you ask, giggling when he leans down and gets right at eye level with you, a huge smile curling over his plush mouth.

“Yeah,” he confirms, pushing a loose curl behind your ear before he pulls you into his broad body. His lips crash against yours. His whiskey taste serenading your tongue, woodsy scent making you heated and dizzy from the smell of him. He’s like a drug you can’t get enough of. Addicting and dangerous but yet bottled up with love and care.

When he pulls away from you, he smirks, hand trailing down your breasts, going south until he’s trying to slide between your thighs. “Now, let me take care of this—”

You stop him right there, shoving his hand away with a tsk. “We need to go, baby. We’ll be late.”

“But I…”

“Later,” you whisper into the shell of his ear, brushing your lips against warm skin and leaving a red lipstick mark on his cheek.

He chuckles and nods, teasing his calloused fingers along the nape of your neck. “Alright, sweetheart. Jus’ know that when we get home tonight, I’m takin’ real good care of that pussy. Understand?” He gives you that look. The one that makes your skin tingle and clit pulse with need. You’re going to suffer through this entire Halloween party if he keeps teasing you like that.

“Understood, handsome. You going to do that one thing? You know, that special trick with your tongue. What do you call it? Tongue twister,” you giggle while he throws back his head and lets out a belly-aching chuckle. One that makes warmth bubble up inside you. You could listen to him laugh for hours. That melodic, carefree sound. You love to see him happy.

He wipes off some of the drool and red lipstick on the sleeve of his flannel, laughing as he cleans you off. “You’re such a mess. You know that?”

You give him a big toothy smile and nod. “Mhm. You love it, though.”

He sighs and shakes his head, chuckling while he strokes his thumb under the bottom of your lip. “Mmm, yeah. I love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you too, Joel,” you murmur, eyes glossy. You’re so in love. You give him a quick peck to the cheek and smile up at him, like he’s your entire world.

He scoops you up off the floor and leads you to the bathroom, littering kisses up and down your jawline. “C’mon. Let’s get your cleaned up before we go. Don’t need ‘em knowin’ what we’ve been doin’ tonight,” he laughs.

After he cleans you off with a warm washcloth, you fix your costume and hair. Red lips glossy again, halo straight, wings flat against your back, corset back in place, miniskirt grazing your thighs. And then he takes your hand and leads you down the stairs, into his truck, and to the party.

Halloween parties were always something you loved, but what you loved more was making Joel Miller, the love of your life, feel good. And that’s exactly what you did tonight.

You made his entire Halloween once again.

Tagging a few moots 🩵 @almostfoxglove @almostempty @magpiepills @sanarsi @ace-turned-confused

@aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @sawymredfox @littlevenicebitch69 @alltheirdamn @burntheedges

#joel miller x you #dbf!joel #joel miller #kinktober #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #joel x female reader #Jamie’s Halloween writing challenge

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