#joel miller x F!reader

[strawberrysodaslut]

the way you got his voice PERFECTLY on lock omgg i could HEAR HIM saying all of this

Soft & Sweet | Joel Miller x Reader

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You share your first kiss with the last man you ever expected: your older, grouchy, overly protective patrol partner, Joel Miller.

Warnings/tags: Jackson era. So much tension. Fluff. Some angst. Foul language. Suggestive material. Grumpy Joel. Anxious reader. Soft Joel. Insecure Joel. Somewhat innocent reader; not clueless, just inexperienced. Implied age gap, but numbers are not specified. No mentions of body type or race.

Word Count: 4.2k

SEQUEL. | soft!joel collection masterlist.

a/n: honest to god this started as one thing, and turned into something completely different but i’m not…upset about it? also, thank you to @cupofjoel who literally listened to me talk about this so much for some reason ?? & for reading bits and giving me feed back ?? such a wonderful human

Joel Miller was easily your least preferred choice of a patrol partner.

There was no doubting the feeling was mutual, either, but the fact of the matter was that you two were a perfect match. You were shorter, faster, and easier to hide; he was stronger, wiser, and knew the patterns of raiders and infected alike. A constant push and pull that gave the quaint city of Jackson a semblance of peace.

In the beginning of your time together, that was what you had to remind yourself. That your time beyond the gates was a representation of how deeply you felt for the people of Jackson, and how important it was for you to keep them and yourself safe.

Regardless of how annoyingly grumpy and disengaging your partner was.

At first, it offended you. How could a man cut from the same cloth as the warm hearted Tommy Miller be such an ass? You had been promised he was like that with everyone, and that you were no special target of his distaste. Over the first few weeks he had occupied Jackson, you observed this, and were pleased to find out he was, in fact, like that with everyone. Well, everyone except the foul mouthed girl he arrived with who you took a liking to.

Ellie was fun. Ellie knew how to relax. You often thought what a good team you two would make if she wasn't a kid, strictly forbade from participating in patrol.

So, you got stuck with Joel.

What once felt offensive turned into pure annoyance at his unwillingness to entertain you. The first few times you two rode together passed the walls of Jackson, you thought he may actually strangle you for your nonstop questions and chatter.

"You really do have a stick up your ass, old man." You had told him when he ignored every attempt you made at getting to know him.

Eventually, your annoyance turned into understanding. He had no obligation to you, other than watching your back and keeping you both safe, both of which were promises - despite his sour attitude - you never doubted he would maintain. And with that understanding, you found opportunity.

Just because Joel didn't want to talk didn't mean you couldn't. And whether he liked it or not, he had no choice but to listen.

That was how it started. Utilizing the stoic man as your very own personal diary. Your rides were underwhelming for the most part, and the tellings of your personal life and worries seemed far more entertaining than feeding into his brooding silence.

You told him about anything and everything. Your distaste for the messy habits of your housemate, who despite being a few years older than you, did not keep the space as neat as you would have liked. Your discontent for the choice of dinner options. How excited you were for the new movie screenings, as some of the other patrolmen had found new tapes during their scavenging.

How much you missed your parents.

How hard of a time you were having making real friends.

Some days, you had even forgotten he was there. Always trotting a few paces behind you, silent, observing. Eventually, you got the impression he wasn't retaining anything you even said, but you didn't stop. The routine was too engrained in you. You met at the stables, he asked the same three questions - Did'ya pick up your gun? Did'ya double check the post assignment? Do you have your flashlight? (you forgot it once, and he wouldn't let you live it down) - then you mounted your horses, said goodbye to the men at the gate, and once you were a good mile away from Jackson, you released the flood gates.

What you didn't know, however, was that you couldn't have been more wrong. Joel was listening. Retaining every word, in fact. Calculating everything to memory, even deducing his own conclusions and opinions about the matters you held near and dear to your heart. He had gotten use to the one sided therapy sessions you had every week, and perhaps a small part of him, as subconscious as it may have been, even enjoyed it.

So when you showed up to this mornings patrol quieter than the dead, Joel knew something was off.

He was watching you. You rode ahead of him, as you always did, shoulders slightly slumped and eyes forward, a large contrast from the way they usually flitted about to take in the sights around you. Your animated nature reduced to tame compliance to the silence he had once begged for between the two of you.

Now, he couldn't help the gnawing sensation of missing the sound of your voice, a pain in his gut telling him this wasn't just any old fluke.

About forty-five minutes into your ride towards he nearest rest stop, you heard him expel a great sigh before the sound of his stallions hooves picked up, and suddenly, he was riding beside you. When you didn't acknowledge him, Joel rolled his eyes.

"Alright, what's wrong?" he grumbled. That earned him a side eye, noting the unusual droop to your normally bright features.

You furrowed your brows. "What do you mean what's wrong?

"Somethin's wrong," he pressed.

"Why do you say that?" you challenged, a lilt of annoyance in your voice as you shot him a scowl.

He tried to bite back the edge in his voice, but it came unprompted. "Because you ain't said a damn word in almost an hour, and I'm pretty sure that's an all time record."

You huffed out an incredulous laugh, your breath painting soft patterns of smoke in the cold air, shaking your head rapidly. "You know," you started, returning your bleak gaze to the path ahead of you. "For someone who bitched about how much I talk, you gotta weird way of appreciating me shutting up for once."

He was quiet, then, and you were instantly filled with a wave of regret at how quickly your sharp tongue attacked him.

Joel wasn't too offended. He had been ripped on a lot worse by people who were substantially nastier than you. He was, however, concerned. He knew what it was liked to feel cornered in a moment of uncertainty, so instead of pressing you further in the moment, he took a calculated breath, tearing his eyes off of of you and nodding his head towards the structure approaching in the distance.

"Let's rest for a bit, yeah? Winds pickin' up more than I'd like to be dealin' with."

The safe house was cozy, quaint. Quiet. A one story studio format, likely an old vacation home. They had gotten the fire place cleared a few months prior, making it the perfect place to dwell during long patrols. Joel crouched in front of it now, lighting the wood while you went through the procedure of barricading the door. You had yet to have any issues this far out from the perimeter, but you didn’t like taking any chances. That was something you and Joel agreed on.

Better safe than sorry.

As soon as the flames were lit, warmth instantly overcame the small room, and you felt a weight lifted off you in more ways than one when you shimmied out of your bulky winter coat and boots. Your toes cracked against the hardwood floors as you padded over to the fireplace, settling down criss cross beside Joel as he prodded at the wood.

You could feel him eyeing you, and it took every bit of willpower you had to keep your gaze focused on the flames, hands outstretched slightly to soothe your chilled fingertips.

He cleared his throat, setting the prong back into its holder. “I never said I wanted’ya to shut up,” he grumbled, and your stomach instantly fell at the sadness laced in his tone.

You sighed, finally allowing yourself to look over at him. His features remained hard as they always were, but his eyes spoke a different story. Soft. Apologetic. He may have driven you absolutely crazy, but you knew Joel Miller was a decent man. Decent enough for you to confide in, and certainly decent enough to at least give some sort of shit about you.

“I know,” you said quietly, swallowing the unexpected lump in your throat. You were clearly feeling sensitive today. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

Joel shook his head, settling down to sit beside you. You both looked into the flames, seemingly lost in their allure. This was usually how stopping at the safe house went; dawdling around the fireplace, taking turns napping, the occasional reluctance on Joel’s end when you begged and thoroughly convinced him to join you in one of the few board games or puzzles scattered about.

But the energy was different today. You both knew that.

“I got asked on a date,” you blurted out, immediately regretting the words as soon as they passed your lips.

Joel’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead. That certainly was not what he had expected you to say. In all your time as partners, relationships had never come up as a topic of conversation. Friendships, sure. But Joel was more than confident that there was an unspoken rule about anything beyond that: you didn’t pry into his love life - as so many others in his small circle thought they had the right to do - therefore, he had no right asking about yours.

He waited a moment, carefully collecting his thoughts. “That…sounds like it should be a good thing, ain’t it?” he asked, cocking his head over his shoulder to study you. You still had your eyes on the flames, arms wrapped around your knees that were cradled against your chest.

You shrugged, nodding a few times. He couldn’t help but blow a soft chuckle through his nose. “Then why d’ya look like it’s the worst news you’ve gotten all year?”

You covered your face with your hands, groaning. “Because-!” you heaved, the frustration you had worked tirelessly to shove down that morning returning instantly upon his questioning. You felt helpless. You felt ridiculous. Being able to shake off boughs of otherwise meaningless emotions was a strength of yours. It was one of the very few reasons you thought Joel may have put up with you: you didn’t take any shit, and neither did he.

To be dancing with the idea of letting those walls fall too far down…it was a vulnerability you didn’t like entertaining.

You took a slow breath in through your nose, out through your mouth, gradually bringing your hands down from your face. Joel watched the way your jaw tightened as you appeared to wrestle your thoughts into words. Your lips parted once, but you shut them instantly. Rolling your eyes to yourself, you began picking at the edges of your nails. Maybe that would distract you from the embarrassment that was to follow.

“Because I’ve never really…done that before,” you mumbled, and when he didn’t speak at first, you thought he may have not heard you.

Cautiously, you dragged your eyes towards Joel. He was still looking at you, but now, there was a soft sort of inquisition to his eyes.

“What do’ya mean never done that before?” he questioned, an arch to his brow.

You felt your cheeks filling with heat, chewing on the inside of your lip to keep yourself from becoming a blabbering mess. An anxiety filled the pit of your stomach, one that suggested you weren’t all too thrilled to be having this conversation.

Having this conversation with Joel.

You knew he wouldn’t make fun of you, he never had in any of your endless ramblings. But that didn’t stop you from feeling the affects of the intimate nature of the topic.

You shrugged again, slower this time. “I don’t know…dated. Gone on a date. Been that close to a guy, I mean, hell, I haven’t even had my first kiss yet-”

“Wait,” Joel cut you off, a deep crease forming between his brows. “You ain’t even had your first kiss?”

When you looked at him then, he could have crumbled under the weight of your somber eyes. Filled with a disappointment and shame he knew all too well.

Fuck.

“Didn’t have much time, what with the world ending and all,” you muttered. It reminded Joel just how young you were. How much you had missed. How much you had yet to see, learn, experience. He would never pity you — he respected you far too much for that. He did, however, feel for you. He knew you. Knew what you had to offer the world, and you were given no chance to do so. Something so basic, so pure, robbed from you.

He sighed softly, returning his eyes back to the flames. How desperately he wished he could burn away his worries in them. He was sure you felt the same way, too. “S’not somethin’ you should overthink. If it’s gonna happen, it’ll happen.” Never did Joel Miller think he would be giving relationship advice. At least not to someone other than Ellie, and even then, he hoped it was a good long while before he even had to entertain the idea. He certainly didn’t feel qualified.

“But what if—” you stopped yourself again, the same discomfort invading your stomach at the thought of revealing such sensitive insight. Maybe it was the warmth of the fire, or the security of the safe house. Or maybe it was just Joel, but you realized then that there was no other time, place, or person you would rather let your guard down for.

“What if I’m no good at it?” It was hardly a whisper.

“That ain’t possible.” He said it so quickly. Too quickly. So much so that you were both exchanging looks at each other at the same time, the panic seizing his features in a faint blush, the heat rising in your own cheeks at…what? You couldn’t pinpoint at first the reason why his assurance made you react in such a way, until the heat of his eyes on you was more intense than the fire.

There was no denying that Joel Miller was one of the most handsome men in Jackson. You had acknowledged that, realized the idea was far too preposterous to entertain, and stored it away the moment you met him. And now here the thought was, rushing back in and invading your brain with a sick sense of desire.

Joel cleared his throat heartily, immediately reverting his gaze back to the fire. “Maybe you could–”

Again, the words came before you knew what you wanted to say. How much you wanted to say. This was not your usual dynamic. You were use to a free tongue around him, and now, you were second guessing every word you spoke. This was why you didn’t foster those ideas. This was why you treaded carefully with every man in Jackson: your sense of self slowly started to feel stripped from you the moment you caught whiff of being roped in, and that terrified you.

Of course he had thought about it. How could he have not? You were beautiful, spritely, and confident. Not in a pompous fashion, but in a way that demanded you were sure of yourself. It was a rare trait for most of the women he had met thus far in Jackson.

And yet, he had never seen you more indecisive than in this very moment.

Your lingering words penetrated him with an unforeseen force, and he held his breath, suddenly vividly aware of the topic of conversation and what you may have been insinuating.

Beautiful, spritely, confident. And way too young for him.

“Listen, I don’t-” He tried to start, wondering if he was working towards talking you out of your line of thought or talking himself out of considering it. But you were already sitting up onto your knees, facing him with a dire look in your eyes.

“No one would know.” Your voice was a rushed whisper, contradicting the very words it spoke, as if you were shielding the idea from the universe. That way, it couldn’t get its grasp on it, chew it up and spit it out before it even had the chance to breathe into life.

You couldn’t believe yourself, a new sort of desperation you hadn’t experienced bubbling to the surface. You blinked at him rapidly while you spoke. “I mean I wouldn’t - I wouldn’t tell, it would only be one time. You’d be doing me a favor, it’s not like it actually means — I mean it’s not that it doesn’t mean anything, I just—”

Joel reached out for you then, his hand coming up to grip you by the cheeks, squishing your lips into a pout and shushing your terribly embarrassing ramble. The first time he was able to shut you up. This was the chatter he was use to.

You felt your stomach drop. You weren’t sure if it was due to the impending rejection, or because the burn of his hand on your skin left you in a daze. Either way, you were silent. Wide eyes on him, attempting to read his ever indecipherable expression.

“Listen darlin’,” he said, his even tone giving you equal parts comfort and unease. You thought you could swim in the darkness of his eyes, save for the flames that glossed off of them. Intentional, focused. “Don’t think for a moment that the thought of kissin’ you is somethin’ I wouldn’t enjoy, I just…I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He released your cheeks then. You shouldn’t be offended. Rationally, you knew that. But you couldn’t ignore the festering anger. You pushed up to your feet, staring down at him with furrowed brows and crossed arms.

“Why not?” you challenged, the bite to your tone making no effort to cover up your flustered offense to his denial.

Joel looked up at you with a tilted head and frown, not expecting such an outburst. You had always had a bit of a temper, sure. But perhaps he had gotten so use to it directed towards other people and things he had no relation to that its presence now was unsettling.

He let out a heavy sigh before groaning to his feet, both of you facing each other in a stand off of ambivalence, desire, and caution.

“Because,” he started, raising his brows at you. “You’re – we aren’t—” he struggled with his words, displaying a frustrated countenance at the inability to find them. You waited, your nails digging into your biceps where they were crossed. He looked around, his hands waving reflexively in the air as he explained. “We’re all’lone out here, and you’re…you’re clearly feelin’ upset. Tommy trusted me to look out for’ya. Last thing I need is to go on disrespectin’ or - or takin’ advantage of you like that while you’re on my watch.”

You sneered a chuckle, shaking your head at him. “Take advantage of me? I asked you to do it! Do you really think I’m that fucking naive?” There was a foreign agitation to your voice. “Besides, it’s just a stupid little kiss!”

“If it’s so goddamn stupid, why’re you askin’ me to do it?” he snapped back, a flustered blush rushing up through his neck and into his cheeks.

“Because you’re the only one I trust with this kinda stuff, you jerk!”

Heat. Heat was rising and flowing through the room, through both of you.

“Fine!” he shouted, running out of words to combat you with.

“Fine!”

How you came to be where you were, standing chest to chest, the tension morphing the space between you, heaving frantic breaths into each others faces, neither of you knew. Neither of you seemed to mind, either.

Your hands fell to your sides then, craning your neck up to look at Joel. His nostrils were flared wide, the familiar etch between his brows prominent. A shiver ran down your spine then when he damped his lips, slowly. The emotion that had built over the minutes slowly dissipated just by the sight of his eyes on you. Your own lips parted in a soft breath, and you caught him glance down at them.

He swallowed hard. “Fine.” This time, when he spoke the word, it was soft. Definitive. Expression slowly shifting back to the unreadable neutrality. He didn’t keep you guessing long, though. His hands reached out then, taking a final step to close the distance fully between you two, carefully lifting his palms to cradle either side of your face. You were frozen, eyes permanently glued to him, fingers twitching at your sides.

His hands were rough, calloused, but delicate in the way they held you. You felt an overwhelming warmth begin in your stomach and spread out over the rest of you while he studied you like this, searching your eyes for something.

Uncertainty, regret. Anything that would stop him from moving forward with what he was about to do. But there was none, just wide eyes and plush, parted lips that peered up at him with anticipation. And he just couldn’t help himself.

Slowly, one of his thumbs dragged across your bottom lip, watching as it bobbed in place before he was leaning forward, and you were washed in the scent of him. His nose nudged yours, eyes falling half shut, but yours were still gawking, waiting. The anticipation almost too much to bare that your hands abandoned your sides, coming up to grip him at the elbows. It must have been all he needed, as the next moment was consumed by the feeling of his lips molding against yours.

For the second time that day, Joel Miller discovered a way to shut you up.

He was hesitant at first; barely there, the coarse hair that coated his upper lip tickling your skin. Hardly grazing the supple petals against you. Instinctively, your fingers dug into the bend of his arms when he applied pressure, fully allowing the weight of himself to kiss you. Your eyes finally fell shut, the loss of sense permitting you to be fully encapsulated by him.

Him. Joel. His strong hands that held you, the familiar scent of him, wood and earth mixed with something sweet, his broad body that pressed into yours, claiming the moment for just the two of you. You’re not sure how it happened, between a breath, a brief moment for you two to recollect yourselves, before you dove back in head first. His hands abandoned your face, finding their way to wrap around your waist, bringing you to your toes and flushed against his chest. Your own reacted on instinct and weaved around his neck, and your fingers found refuge in his silver dusted curls.

Nerves were nonexistent. You just felt him, shocked by how easily it was to bend into his will. How much time you had spent over analyzing this moment for it to be reduced to such simplicity. Whether that was because it really was this simple, or because Joel made it so, you didn’t know.

The tip of his tongue just barely grazed your bottom lip, but never pushed for access. The contact alone ignited you, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that lodged in the back of your throat, a flutter traveling below your stomach. Joel’s hands squeezed your hips in response to the sound, and just as quickly as it started, it ended.

He compelled himself to let go, pulling you away from him, the space between you uncomfortably vast. You didn’t even have the chance to think before he reached up for your hands around his neck and gradually pulled them away, too. He stepped back from you, leaving you in a concrete daze of exasperation, newfound lust, and worst of all, a residue of heartbreak from how short the moment was cut.

“We oughta get goin’,” he grumbled, already turning to retrieve his backpack and put the fire out.

You didn’t move a muscle, frozen in the spot where Joel Miller kissed you. Where he changed everything you ever felt inside in an instant. You could see his skin still painted in pink, cheeks flushed, and lips glistening. The emotional whiplash his sudden change incited made you feel like you wanted to disappear, a lump forming in your throat. One you refused to give in to, swallowing it down as you slowly willed yourself to breathe again.

“Yeah. Y-yeah, okay.” And then, you were grabbing your own pack, silently helping him tear down the barricade you had built, and mounting the horses.

The entire rest of the patrol was silent. A rarity. And while words were never spoke aloud, there was an unspoken energy in the air that wailed for attention. You would acknowledge it, if only in your mind for the time being. You would spend the rest of the ride thinking about Joel’s lips, the alluring look in his eyes right before he kissed you. You would recount the tender nature of his touch, and how it gifted your skin with such delicacy. You would think of his breath, the way it quickened and hitched, desperate in between each touch of your lips. You would think about him.

And as soon as you got back into Jackson, you would be finding any and every excuse to cancel your date.

follow @cavillscurlsupdates and then on post notification to be notified when i update!

[wintrwinchestr]

guilty pleasure: a fic in fetlife messages

(joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: joel is a freak and is tired of keeping it to himself. he finally decides to make himself a fetlife profile and finds just the type of girl he's been looking for to match his freak: you.

warnings: 18+, smut, no outbreak au, set in 2017 so i could keep joel's birth year, young!joel, reasonably sized age gap (joel is 36, reader is 22), sexting, pet play, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (puppy, sweetheart, princess, babygirl, little one, etc), degrading names (a few uses of doggy, mutt, and bitch), gentle domination (following rules for eating/bedtime/self care, daddy joel choosing your hair and outfits, etc), sending nudes/videos, reader has small tits, reader has a skintone that is described as “red” and “blushing”, reader has a shaved pussy, reader has hair that can be put into a claw clip/pigtails/buns, joel may be a freak but he is very caring and considerate, please let me know if i missed anything <3

word count: 8.3k (not counting timestamps/usernames)

a/n: i started this in the car on friday night, here it is now. just something incredibly self indulgent to give my brain a break from working through strangers :) if you are experienced with fetlife or are a student at UT austin please suspend your disbelief incredibly high up in the air when you read this lol. yes puppyprincess12 is literally just me so what. thank u @chippedowlmug and @polaroidpascal for all the baby freak joel yapping and again to @polaroidpascal for making joel and reader's fetlife profiles that u can see at the end of the fic!! enjoy <3

divider by @saradika

November 7, 2017

(6:36 PM) puppyprincess12: hi sir :) i’m a little shy but i think you’re so handsome i just had to send a message. i like that picture of you at the party on your profile, you look nice in that shirt :) i hope we can get to know each other some more!!

(7:07 PM) texandaddy81: Hi there, princess. You’re a beautiful girl yourself. Got such pretty manners too, that’s what I like to see. I don’t mind that you’re a little shy, I gotta admit I’m new to this and pretty nervous myself. Let’s just have some fun gettin to know each other and let me know if anything I say makes you uncomfortable, alright?

(7:10 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir :)

(7:18 PM) texandaddy81: There’s those manners again. You always so polite and well behaved?

(7:20 PM) puppyprincess12: i try to be. i like being good. is that something you’d be interested in?

(7:24 PM) texandaddy81: I think it is. Not that interested in havin a brat that needs to be tamed all the time. Would rather be a Daddy to a good little girl like you. Is that the type of thing you’re looking for?

(7:26 PM) puppyprincess12: yes it is daddy :) i would love to be a good girl for you 

(7:31 PM) texandaddy81: Well let’s hang on just a minute. I didn’t say anything about you calling me Daddy right away. That’s something I’d like to save for after we’ve gotten to know each other a little bit more. 

(7:33 PM) puppyprincess12: i understand :( i’m sorry sir. not doing a very good job of proving how good i am :((

(7:35 PM) texandaddy81: It’s alright sweetheart, we’re both learnin here.

(7:41 PM) texandaddy81: Why don’t you introduce me to that cute stuffed animal you have in your profile picture?

(7:45 PM) puppyprincess12: :D she’s my favorite, she’s my ballerina bunny her name is odette like from swan lake :)

(7:52 PM) texandaddy81: She’s real cute. Seem to know a bit about ballet, you a ballerina in addition to being a puppy and a princess?

(7:54 PM) puppyprincess12: i used to be :(( not so much anymore since i started college, i don’t really have time anymore. but i miss it

(7:57 PM) texandaddy81: Jesus, college girl are ya? You sure you’re old enough to be on here, sweetheart?

(8:01 PM) puppyprincess12: uh huh i promise!! it’s on my profile but i’m 22 i graduate next year. i can show you my drivers license if you want

(8:06 PM) texandaddy81: No need, I believe you. You sure you wanna be talkin to somebody over 10 years older than you, though?

(8:10 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir im sure :) i am looking for a daddy after all, you kinda have to be older than me lol :)

(8:14 PM) texandaddy81: I guess that’s true. Well… if we keep talkin and I do decide I’d like to be your Daddy… what kinda things would you be lookin for us to do together? I don’t suppose any of the words in your username might give me any clues…

(8:22 PM) puppyprincess12: they might :)) like i said i like being good. i wanna follow orders and be praised for it and sometimes i do wanna be treated like a puppy :(( i’d like to try a leash and collar and have my daddy train me to behave and bark on command and come when im called and stuff like that

(8:31 PM) puppyprincess12: sorry was that too much :(( i understand if you wouldn’t be interested in that kinda stuff

(8:33 PM) texandaddy81: Sorry babygirl, didn’t message ya back right away cause I got a little bit lost in the thought of all that, if I’m being honest. I’d be very interested in having a little puppy girl like you. 

(8:35 PM) puppyprincess12: oh yay :D i just know some people think it’s weird so i didn’t wanna scare you off

(8:38 PM) texandaddy81: Can’t scare me off, princess. Shame on anyone who’s made you feel weird for being interested in that. My rule is if you like it, if it makes you feel good, and if it doesn’t hurt anyone, then ain’t nothin wrong with it. 

(8:41 PM) puppyprincess12: thank you sir :) do you have any other rules? ;)

(8:46 PM) texandaddy81: I certainly have a rule for respect and manners, you seem to follow that one all on your own. I’d also like to have some rules for taking care of yourself. Eating 3 square meals a day, drinking your water, having a bedtime…

(8:49 PM) puppyprincess12: id really like some rules like that :(( with school i can be bad at taking care of myself on my own 

(8:51 PM) texandaddy81: I’d be more than happy to help you do that, sweetheart. Why don’t we try it out starting tonight, hm?

(8:53 PM) texandaddy81: How much have you had to eat today?

(8:55 PM) puppyprincess12: just lunch and a couple snacks, i haven’t had dinner yet… and i don’t usually eat breakfast…

(8:57 PM) texandaddy81: That’s alright princess. Getting pretty late though…

(8:58 PM) texandaddy81: Why don’t you go ahead and get yourself some dinner and send me a picture when you get it, okay?

(9:01 PM) puppyprincess12: okay sir :) i’ll be right back

(9:03 PM) texandaddy81: Good girl, thank you. 

(9:16 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(9:17 PM) puppyprincess12: i went to the dining hall and got a chicken sandwich and some sweet potato fries :D

(9:21 PM) texandaddy81: That looks like a good dinner to me :) Can you drink a whole glass of water with it for me please?

(9:22 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir i will :)

(9:23 PM) texandaddy81: Good girl. 

(9:26 PM) puppyprincess12: :) i really like it when you call me that

(9:29 PM) texandaddy81: Well, that’s what you are. I’ll call you that all you want.

(9:33 PM) texandaddy81: Is there anything else you’d like me to call you?

(9:36 PM) puppyprincess12: um… well…

(9:38 PM) texandaddy81: What is it, babygirl? Use your words please. 

(9:41 PM) puppyprincess12: i think i’d like it if you called me puppy sometimes :((

(9:44 PM) texandaddy81: I can certainly do that. Why don’t you be a good puppy and eat your dinner for me, drink your water too. Come back to me again when you’re all finished. 

(9:45 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir :))

(10:16 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(10:17 PM) puppyprincess12: okay i’m all done here’s a picture of my empty plate and empty glass in case u wanted to see 

(10:23 PM) texandaddy81: Thank you princess, that was very thoughtful of you to show me.

(10:25 PM) texandaddy81: All that’s left is my rule about bedtime. What time do you normally go to bed during the week?

(10:28 PM) puppyprincess12: pretty late :(( especially if i’m working on a big project. sometimes i don’t go to bed until it’s the next morning…

(10:31 PM) texandaddy81: Well that’s not very good at all. It’s already pretty late, assuming you’re in the same time zone as me.

(10:35 PM) puppyprincess12: i’m in austin tx so it’s a lil after 10:30 here :((

(10:38 PM) texandaddy81: As fate would have it, that’s where I am, too. Do you have any more work to do tonight, puppy?

(10:40 PM) puppyprincess12: nooo that’s why i decided to get online and message you bc im done with my work for the night

(10:44 PM) texandaddy81: Well, as glad as I am that we got to talk to each other tonight, I reckon it’s about time for this little girl to go to bed, don’t you think? I’d like to set a bedtime for 10:30 as long as we keep gettin to know each other. We missed the mark a little bit for tonight, but does that sound okay goin forward?

(10:46 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir :(( i just wish i could keep talking to you

(10:49 PM) texandaddy81: I do too, but I’ll still be here when you wake up. 

(11:03 PM) texandaddy81: Sorry, I shouldn’t assume. If you wanna keep talking, I’ll be around tomorrow. 

(11:12 PM) puppyprincess12: i would love to talk to you again tomorrow sir :)

(11:15 PM) texandaddy81: Alright, then. Goodnight princess, get some good sleep and we’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow. 

(11:16 PM) puppyprincess12: goodnight sir :) <3

November 8, 2017

(7:31 AM) texandaddy81: Good morning, sweetheart. Hope you slept well. 

(8:03 AM) texandaddy81: You have something to eat yet this morning?

(9:36 AM) texandaddy81: Princess?

(10:02 AM) puppyprincess12: omg good morning sir i’m sorry my only class today isn’t until the evening so i slept in :((

(10:04 AM) texandaddy81: That’s alright sweet girl. Happy to hear from you. 

(10:06 AM) texandaddy81: Can you answer my question please?

(10:07 AM) puppyprincess12: it’s a lil late for breakfast do i still have to eat something?

(10:13 AM) texandaddy81: I would like you to, please. Even if it’s just a piece of toast to tide you over until lunch. 

(10:16 AM) puppyprincess12: okie sir i will have some :)

(10:21 AM) puppyprincess12: can i have some coffee or do i have to drink water ?

(10:26 AM) texandaddy81: Hmm… One glass of water before your coffee, please. 

(10:27 AM) texandaddy81: Thank you for askin

(10:29 AM) puppyprincess12: you’re welcome :)

(10:36 AM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(10:36 AM) puppyprincess12: here’s a pic of everything so u can see i made it :)

(10:38 AM) texandaddy81: You’re such a good little girl. 

(10:40 AM) texandaddy81: Hold on a second tho…

(10:41 AM) texandaddy81: Thought you said you were gonna make some coffee?

(10:43 AM) puppyprincess12: yea it’s in the pic :) in the pink mug!!

(10:45 AM) texandaddy81: Sweetheart… that ain’t coffee. 

(10:47 AM) puppyprincess12: what do u mean ?

(10:50 AM) texandaddy81: Coffee’s usually black in my house. What you made yourself might as well just be milk. 

(10:51 AM) puppyprincess12: nuh uh it’s coffee!!! i use this vanilla oat milk creamer that i like :)

(10:53 AM) texandaddy81: They can make milk outta oats now??

(10:54 AM) puppyprincess12: lol yes sir!! it’s really yum u should try it

(10:57 AM) texandaddy81: Lol. No thank you. 

(10:59 AM) puppyprincess12: whatever more for me then :D

(11:07 AM) texandaddy81: You eating your breakfast in addition to breakin my heart with your coffee choices?

(11:08 AM) puppyprincess12: yes sir i am :) i will show u empty plate and cups in a bit 

(11:25 AM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(11:25 AM) puppyprincess12: see all done

(11:27 AM) texandaddy81: Good puppy, thank you. 

(11:28 AM) puppyprincess12: :D

(11:36 AM) texandaddy81: So your only class today isn’t until the evenin you said? What time would that be?

(11:38 AM) puppyprincess12: it starts at 5pm :)

(11:42 AM) texandaddy81: Alright, babygirl. Got all the work done that you need to do for it?

(11:45 AM) puppyprincess12: yes sir it’s an art history class so i only had to do a little bit of reading last night :) i just have to show up and listen today

(11:49 AM) texandaddy81: And you’re a very good listener, aren’t you puppy?

(11:50 AM) puppyprincess12: yes sir i am :)

(12:03 PM) texandaddy81: Have you gotten yourself ready for the day yet? Or just rolled outta bed and ate something like I told you to?

(12:05 PM) puppyprincess12: no sir not ready yet

(12:07 PM) texandaddy81: Well then… Why don’t you get yourself dressed and do your hair up and everythin?

(12:08 PM) puppyprincess12: okay sir i will :)

(12:15 PM) puppyprincess12: um… sir?

(12:17 PM) texandaddy81: Right here princess. What is it?

(12:18 PM) puppyprincess12: would u like to pick out my outfit for me? maybe decide what i do with my hair too?

(12:21 PM) texandaddy81: I’d love to, sweet girl. 

(12:23 PM) texandaddy81: What kinda stuff do you normally wear to class?

(12:25 PM) puppyprincess12: it’s been a little chilly lately so i’ve just been wearing sweaters and jeans

(12:27 PM) texandaddy81: Can you pick out a few sweaters that you like and send me a pic so I can choose one for you?

(12:28 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir :)

(12:31 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(12:33 PM) texandaddy81: Those are real cute… How about that rainbow one in the middle?

(12:34 PM) texandaddy81: I assume that’s the kind you gotta wear another shirt underneath, right?

(12:36 PM) texandaddy81: Correct me if I’m wrong. Don’t know too much about girls fashion lol. 

(12:36 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir it’s a cardigan so i normally wear a white t shirt underneath it :)

(12:38 PM) texandaddy81: That’s fine, then. 

(12:40 PM) texandaddy81: Can you show me a few pairs of your jeans then next?

(12:40 PM) texandaddy81: Put the sweater and the shirt in the same pic please. 

(12:41 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir

(12:43 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(12:44 PM) texandaddy81: I think those lighter ones on the right would look nice. 

(12:45 PM) puppyprincess12: okie :D i will wear those then

(12:46 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(12:46 PM) puppyprincess12: are these shoes okay to wear with it? i think they would look cute with the sweater :)

(12:49 PM) texandaddy81: I think they would too, princess. Those are real pretty. 

(12:51 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(12:51 PM) puppyprincess12: and these earrings?

(12:59 PM) texandaddy81: Damn… can only imagine how fuckin adorable you’re gonna look today. 

(1:00 PM) texandaddy81: Yes, you can wear those earrings. 

(1:01 PM) puppyprincess12: okay thank you :)

(1:03 PM) puppyprincess12: so for my hair i usually leave it down and put some little clips in it or i can put it all up in a big claw clip or i can put it in 2 buns or 2 pigtails or whatever u want :)

(1:06 PM) texandaddy81: Wow, lotta choices…

(1:06 PM) texandaddy81: Not even gonna ask what the hell a claw clip is. 

(1:07 PM) texandaddy81: Pigtails, please. 

(1:08 PM) puppyprincess12: high or low?

(1:08 PM) texandaddy81: Low. 

(1:09 PM) puppyprincess12: okay :)

(1:14 PM) puppyprincess12: i hope im not making u choose too many things i just wanna be good and look perfect for u

(1:21 PM) texandaddy81: You’ll look perfect no matter what, princess. But I certainly appreciate how eager you are to do as I say. 

(1:22 PM) texandaddy81: Send me a pic when you’re all dressed and ready, please. 

(1:23 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir i will :)

(2:15 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(2:17 PM) texandaddy81: God almighty…

(2:18 PM) texandaddy81: You are a fuckin gorgeous little thing sweetheart. 

(2:21 PM) texandaddy81: Know I’m a grown man and all but I’m starting to feel a lil jealous of all them college boys that are gonna get to see you today…

(2:23 PM) puppyprincess12: thank you sir :D <3

(2:24 PM) puppyprincess12: and don’t worry sir i don’t even look twice at the boys here none of them are as handsome or nice as you are

(2:27 PM) puppyprincess12: i already don’t talk to any of them but if u wanted me to i would never talk to any boys here ever again even if they’re in my class i would just ignore them

(2:27 PM) puppyprincess12: if that’s what u asked me to do

(2:31 PM) texandaddy81: You really would?

(2:33 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir

(2:33 PM) puppyprincess12: just wanna be good :((

(2:37 PM) texandaddy81: I’ll take you up on that then. 

(2:40 PM) texandaddy81: If a guy in your class tonight tries to talk to you, I want you to ignore him. If you have to do somethin with a partner or whatever the hell they make you do in college, I want you to make sure you’re partnered with another girl. 

(2:41 PM) texandaddy81: Only man you should be talkin to or payin attention to should be me. 

(2:46 PM) texandaddy81: Sorry. Maybe that’s too much. 

(2:48 PM) puppyprincess12: no sir that’s exactly what i want

(2:49 PM) puppyprincess12: i will do as u say i promise

(2:51 PM) texandaddy81: Good girl, thank you. 

(2:59 PM) texandaddy81: Unfortunately I have to do some work for a lil bit babygirl. It’s mighty late in the day for you to be eating lunch but you slept in today so I’ll let it slide. Eat something while I’m gone and send me a pic, please.

(3:01 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir i will :)

(3:27 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 2 images]

(3:27 PM) puppyprincess12: here’s what i had and proof that i ate it along with some water :)

(4:32 PM) puppyprincess12: i hope work is going well i miss u :(

(4:50 PM) puppyprincess12: hi sir i just wanted to let u know im going to class now and my professor doesn’t allow phones so i will text u again when im done :) 

(7:49 PM) puppyprincess12: im sorry for so many texts just wanna make sure im keeping u updated :) class is over i did as you asked tonight and im back in my room now i have some dinner 

(8:32 PM) texandaddy81: Shit sweetheart I’m so sorry. Didn’t expect to be gone for so long. The day just got away from me. 

(8:36 PM) puppyprincess12: that’s okay sir i’m happy to hear from u again :) i hope work wasn’t too bad :((

(8:39 PM) texandaddy81: Just ended up runnin into some more problems today than we were expecting to. 

(8:41 PM) texandaddy81: Worked up a pretty good sweat today so I just got outta the shower. 

(8:45 PM) texandaddy81: Don’t suppose you’d like a pic?

(8:46 PM) puppyprincess12: omg yes please sir

(8:48 PM) texandaddy81: [Attachment: 1 image]

(8:50 PM) puppyprincess12: oh my god…

(8:51 PM) puppyprincess12: i’m on my knees rn you’re so fucking handsome…

(8:53 PM) puppyprincess12: ur arms are so big holy shit

(8:55 PM) texandaddy81: Lol thank you princess. You flatter me way too much. 

(8:58 PM) puppyprincess12: may i pls see what’s under the towel? ;)

(9:01 PM) texandaddy81: Appreciate that you asked so politely. But maybe a little later, puppy. 

(9:03 PM) puppyprincess12: okay sir :)

(9:05 PM) puppyprincess12: bet you’re just as big under there as the rest of you

(9:06 PM) texandaddy81: Maybe I am. 

(9:08 PM) texandaddy81: But I decide when you get to see that. You understand?

(9:11 PM) texandaddy81: I decide when puppy gets her treat. 

(9:12 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir i understand

(9:23 PM) texandaddy81: I gotta admit somethin to you babygirl…

(9:24 PM) puppyprincess12: yes ?

(9:26 PM) texandaddy81: I was workin outside in the dirt and shit all afternoon… And all I could think about was some of what you said last night…

(9:27 PM) puppyprincess12: yeah? :)

(9:29 PM) texandaddy81: Yeah… Somethin about you wanting to be leashed and collared?

(9:30 PM) puppyprincess12: uh huh… i think about it a lot too :((

(9:32 PM) puppyprincess12: i actually do have a leash and collar but it doesn’t feel the same… want somebody else to put it on for me and tug on the leash and stuff…

(9:34 PM) puppyprincess12: want somebody to put me on all fours and treat me like a pet…

(9:35 PM) texandaddy81: And that somebody would be me, I reckon?

(9:37 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir… :((

(9:38 PM) texandaddy81: Well… can’t be there with you to do all that, but I can ask you to put your lil accessories on and send me a pic of you in em, can’t I?

(9:39 PM) puppyprincess12: yes u can sir

(9:39 PM) puppyprincess12: i will put them on rn

(9:46 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(9:47 PM) texandaddy81: Fuck… Just walked right outta one of my wet dreams, didn’t you?

(9:47 PM) texandaddy81: Most perfect lil puppy I’ve ever seen…

(9:48 PM) texandaddy81: Your collar got a lil tag on it, looks like? What’s it say, sweetheart?

(9:49 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(9:49 PM) puppyprincess12: it says princess :)

(9:51 PM) texandaddy81: I should’ve guessed. It’s fitting. 

(9:53 PM) texandaddy81: Those cute lil pajamas are normally what you wear to bed?

(9:54 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir i changed into them bc i know bedtime is soon :)

(9:56 PM) texandaddy81: Good girl. 

(9:56 PM) texandaddy81: I won’t keep you up too much longer. 

(9:58 PM) texandaddy81: Can you do one thing for me please, pretty girl?

(10:00 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir anything

(10:02 PM) texandaddy81: I wonder what it’d look like if you stuck your tongue out like a dog… Put up one of your hands so it looks like you’re beggin for me…

(10:08 PM) texandaddy81: Sorry. Unless that’s too much. Kind of a specific request. 

(10:13 PM) texandaddy81: Didn’t mean to weird you out, sweetheart. 

(10:15 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(10:15 PM) puppyprincess12: u mean like this?

(10:16 PM) texandaddy81: Fuck, princess. Yeah, just like that. 

(10:17 PM) texandaddy81: Be dreamin about you lookin like that when I finally get some shuteye tonight for sure…

(10:17 PM) texandaddy81: Fuck you’re the most perfect lil thing got me nice n hard babygirl…

(10:19 PM) puppyprincess12: really? :)

(10:20 PM) texandaddy81: Yeah… 

(10:22 PM) texandaddy81: You know what… Been so good for me today, I’ll give puppy a lil treat before she goes to bed. 

(10:24 PM) texandaddy81: [Attachment: 1 image]

(10:24 PM) texandaddy81: That’s what you do to me, sweetheart. 

(10:25 PM) puppyprincess12: fuckkk :(( thank u for showing me sir look so big even just gripping it through the towel like that

(10:26 PM) puppyprincess12: can’t wait to see the full thing whenever u allow me to

(10:27 PM) texandaddy81: Such a good, patient girl. 

(10:28 PM) texandaddy81: Well, it’s just about your bedtime, ain’t it little one?

(10:28 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir i’m under the covers already :)

(10:30 PM) texandaddy81: Goodnight then, princess. Talk to you again tomorrow. 

(10:30 PM) puppyprincess12: goodnight sir talk to u tomorrow <3

November 9, 2017

(1:33 PM) puppyprincess12: good afternoon sir :) i’m sorry i didn’t message earlier i had classes from 8-10:30 and then from 11-1:30 today

(1:37 PM) texandaddy81: No worries, sweetheart. Was pretty preoccupied this morning myself. 

(1:38 PM) texandaddy81: You’re a busy girl, ain’t you? Are your classes normally that long?

(1:39 PM) texandaddy81: I’m just curious, is all, wanna learn some more about you. I don’t mean to sound like I’m accusin you of anything. 

(1:41 PM) puppyprincess12: it’s okay :) yeah i’m an art student so they’re all 2.5 hours long so we have enough time to get stuff done during class

(1:43 PM) texandaddy81: Wow… a ballerina and an artist, huh? I’m impressed. You must be very talented, princess. 

(1:44 PM) puppyprincess12: idk i like to think so :) what did you go to college for sir?

(1:47 PM) texandaddy81: Didn’t quite make it that far, I’m afraid. But I ain’t doin so bad without it, my brother and I own a contracting business together. 

(1:48 PM) puppyprincess12: oh that’s really cool!!! so you build houses and stuff??

(1:50 PM) texandaddy81: Pretty much. 

(1:51 PM) puppyprincess12: ohhhh that must be why your arms are so big cause you’re building and lifting heavy things all the time

(1:55 PM) puppyprincess12: i bet you’re really strong huh ;)

(2:06 PM) texandaddy81: I suppose I am. Could probably pick you up and throw you over my shoulder no problem if I had to. 

(2:12 PM) texandaddy81: Sorry. Too much?

(2:14 PM) puppyprincess12: noooo not at all… just got a little dizzy thinking about it is all

(2:16 PM) texandaddy81: Lol. Speaking of which… how are we doin on our meals and water today, puppy?

(2:18 PM) puppyprincess12: pretty good i did eat something before my morning class and im getting myself some lunch rn :) i’ll have some water with it i promise 

(2:19 PM) texandaddy81: That’s a good girl. 

(2:26 PM) puppyprincess12: :) so what are you up to today sir? building any houses?

(2:30 PM) texandaddy81: Not today, no. If I’m being honest, I was spending a lotta time staring at the pictures on your profile again this morning when I shoulda been paying attention to the meetings I was in. 

(2:31 PM) puppyprincess12: oh u were? ;)

(2:33 PM) texandaddy81: I was. Some of em were givin me quite the ideas… You wanna hear some of them?

(2:33 PM) puppyprincess12: yes please sir

(2:35 PM) texandaddy81: Well… I was lookin at that pretty picture of you standing in front of your mirror… you know the one I’m talkin about?

(2:37 PM) puppyprincess12: i think so… the one where i have my puppy ears on?

(2:39 PM) texandaddy81: That’d be the one. Look so pretty in them… Had me thinkin about how you’d look even prettier if you were on your knees for me while you were wearin em… With your lil leash and collar on too…

(2:41 PM) texandaddy81: Let me know if I’m going too far…

(2:42 PM) puppyprincess12: not too far sir… i’d kneel for you right away if you asked me to, i’d be so good…

(2:43 PM) texandaddy81: I know you would be. Bet if I asked you to sit, stay, roll over, bark… You would, wouldn’t you?

(2:44 PM) puppyprincess12: uh huh yes sir i would i’d be such a good puppy for you i’d do anything you asked me to do

(2:46 PM) texandaddy81: Anything? Tell me this, princess. And again let me know if I’m going too far…

(2:48 PM) texandaddy81: Would you be willing to embarrass yourself for me, puppy? Would you let me degrade you if I wanted to?

(2:48 PM) puppyprincess12: yesss sir i would fuck i love being degraded :((

(2:49 PM) texandaddy81: Thought you might. Do I have permission to degrade you a little bit now?

(2:49 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir pls pls pls i want you to :((

(2:51 PM) texandaddy81: God… you’re a good girl but you can be a little pathetic, huh? Begging a man you’ve never met to degrade you… 

(2:52 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir im pathetic fuck i want u to be mean to me

(2:56 PM) puppyprincess12: pls keep talking to me like that sir i’m so wet already :((

(2:57 PM) texandaddy81: Can I see, babygirl? Will you send me a picture of that little puppy pussy drippin for me?

(3:02 PM) texandaddy81: If you’re comfortable with that. 

(3:10 PM) texandaddy81: Fuck, if you’re not in public right now or anything. 

(3:16 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(3:16 PM) puppyprincess12: sorry sir i ran back to my dorm as quick as i could so i could take a pic

(3:17 PM) texandaddy81: Christ you’ve got a perfect little cunt… blushing and bare and droolin for me… 

(3:18 PM) texandaddy81: She don’t need much, does she?

(3:19 PM) puppyprincess12: no sir i get wet soooo easily just from you saying this kinda stuff to me :((

(3:19 PM) texandaddy81: Your roommates home sweetheart?

(3:21 PM) puppyprincess12: um no sir

(3:22 PM) texandaddy81: Good. I want you to touch yourself for me. 

(3:25 PM) puppyprincess12: yes sir i’m doing it it feels so good 

(3:25 PM) puppyprincess12: i bet your big strong fingers would feel even better than my little paws :((

(3:32 PM) puppyprincess12: sorry was that weird :((

(3:36 PM) texandaddy81: Fuck… no puppy it wasn’t. Just had to situate myself so I could jerk off right alongside you. Goddamn that beautiful wet little pussy so fuckin sexy… 

(3:36 PM) texandaddy81: Would you like a picture of Daddy’s dick sweet girl?

(3:37 PM) puppyprincess12: fuckkk yes please… sir…

(3:38 PM) texandaddy81: I went ahead and used it so you can say it now puppy.  

(3:39 PM) texandaddy81: Probably should wait a little longer but fuck it it’s been long enough

(3:39 PM) texandaddy81: There’s just somethin about you princess

(3:40 PM) puppyprincess12: pls daddy let me see it please :((

(3:42 PM) texandaddy81: [Attachment: 1 image]

(3:43 PM) puppyprincess12: ohh my god you’re so fucking big daddy fuck

(3:43 PM) puppyprincess12: i knew u would be big but holy fuck

(3:44 PM) puppyprincess12: probably wouldn’t even fit inside me :((

(3:46 PM) texandaddy81: That’s okay princess I bet you’d be beggin me to make it fit huh? Pathetic little puppy slut. 

(3:47 PM) puppyprincess12: yes daddy want u to stretch me open

(3:47 PM) puppyprincess12: idc if it hurts a little i want it daddy :((

(3:49 PM) texandaddy81: Might hurt more than just a little. But I’d talk you through it and help you take it all.

(3:50 PM) texandaddy81: I’d tug on your leash while I split open that tight little puppy hole 

(3:50 PM) texandaddy81: Make sure my pretty mutt keeps her eyes on her Daddy while he shoves his big cock deep in her guts.

(3:51 PM) texandaddy81: You like the sound of that sweetheart?

(3:52 PM) puppyprincess12: FUCK yes pls daddy i want it so fucking bad

(3:55 PM) puppyprincess12: fuck i’m so close already daddy pls keep going pls pls pls

(3:56 PM) texandaddy81: Fuck I’m gonna blow my fuckin load just thinking about all those sounds I bet you’re makin right now… The whines and whimpers you’d make when I use your pretty cunt like a toy…

(3:58 PM) texandaddy81: God I’m usually not this fuckin forward sweetheart I promise but Jesus Christ…

(3:59 PM) puppyprincess12: oh my fucking god daddy fuck fuck fuck pls that’s what i want omggg

(3:59 PM) puppyprincess12: i don’t care daddy it’s turning me on so fucking much im so fucking wet for you

(4:01 PM) texandaddy81: Such a fucking little whore gonna soak your little paws and your bedsheets just from thinkin about me huh

(4:02 PM) puppyprincess12: fuck yes daddy i’m gonna come can i please??

(4:02 PM) texandaddy81: Course you can princess askin so pretty and nice

(4:03 PM) texandaddy81: You wanna see this Daddy dick comin for you?

(4:03 PM) puppyprincess12: yes pls daddy don’t wanna come until you do :((

(4:03 PM) texandaddy81: Fuck such a good little girl

(4:05 PM) texandaddy81: Daddy’s comin so fuckin hard for you puppy wish I was fuckin that desperate lil hole of yours instead of my fist

(4:07 PM) texandaddy81: [Attachment: 1 video]

(4:14 PM) texandaddy81: Still there princess?

(4:15 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(4:15 PM) puppyprincess12: uh huh… i made such a mess daddy look :((

(4:17 PM) texandaddy81: God damn… that’s okay puppy. Couldn’t help yourself, could you?

(4:17 PM) puppyprincess12: no daddy :((

(4:19 PM) texandaddy81: Messy little girl… Maybe next time Daddy’ll be there to help you clean it up. 

(4:19 PM) puppyprincess12: maybe :) <3

(4:21 PM) texandaddy81: Would you like that, sweetheart?

(4:27 PM) texandaddy81: That wasn’t too much too soon, was it? Like I said I normally wouldn’t move that fast but there’s just somethin about you…

(4:28 PM) puppyprincess12: no daddy it wasn’t :) i liked it a lot it felt rly good

(4:30 PM) puppyprincess12: thank u for going along with the puppy thing lol

(4:31 PM) texandaddy81: If it makes you feel that good then who am I to deny you, sweetheart? You remember my rule I told you about right?

(4:31 PM) puppyprincess12: yes daddy i do :)

(4:33 PM) texandaddy81: Good girl. 

(4:35 PM) texandaddy81: Well I should probably clean myself up and finish this email I was in the middle of writing. 

(4:36 PM) puppyprincess12: okay daddy :((

(4:38 PM) texandaddy81: I know puppy. Just gotta hunker down on some work this evenin and I’ll check back in with you a little later, alright? Not as late as last time I promise, I’m just doing boring computer stuff today.

(4:42 PM) texandaddy81: While I’m gone you can think about if you’d like to get some dinner with me this weekend?

(4:45 PM) texandaddy81: Only if you want to. And if you’re not too busy. Would just love to see that pretty face in person. 

(4:46 PM) texandaddy81: And prove to you that I can be a gentleman, too. 

(4:48 PM) puppyprincess12: i would love to :)

(4:49 PM) texandaddy81: Well alright then :) Speak soon, alright princess? Be good. 

(4:49 PM) puppyprincess12: i will daddy :) 

(4:50 PM) texandaddy81: Good girl. 

(4:51 PM) texandaddy81: Thank you for the good time. 

(4:51 PM) texandaddy81: Like I said I promise I don’t normally do that much that fast. 

(4:53 PM) puppyprincess12: it’s really okay i promise :) i had fun and i wouldn’t be on this site if i wasn’t looking for something like that

(4:55 PM) texandaddy81: You’re right. Just wanna make sure I’m doin all this the right way 

(4:56 PM) texandaddy81: My first time gettin into this kinda thing and all

(4:57 PM) puppyprincess12: we’re both learning :) isn’t that what you said the other day?

(5:01 PM) texandaddy81: Just the other day, huh? You’re right sweetheart. 

(5:02 PM) puppyprincess12: i can tell you’re sweet and that you have good intentions and i can’t wait to meet you soon :D

(5:03 PM) texandaddy81: Well thank you babygirl, I appreciate you sayin that a lot. 

(5:03 PM) texandaddy81: And I can’t wait either princess. 

(5:05 PM) puppyprincess12: i’m gonna do my homework for a few hours text me when ur done working okay?

(5:06 PM) texandaddy81: Will do, puppy.

(6:12 PM) texandaddy81: Hi again, pretty girl. You still workin?

(6:45 PM) texandaddy81: Gettin pretty close to dinner time, I hope you get yourself something to eat soon.  

(8:01 PM) texandaddy81: Just checking in, princess. You there?

(9:19 PM) puppyprincess12: hiiii

(9:21 PM) texandaddy81: :) There she is. 

(9:22 PM) texandaddy81: Were you doin homework all that time?  

(9:24 PM) puppyprincess12: yeah :(( i’m still not done

(9:26 PM) texandaddy81: That’s okay, sweetheart. You took a break somewhere in there though to eat some dinner I hope?

(9:27 PM) puppyprincess12: …noooo :(((

(9:27 PM) puppyprincess12: pls don’t be mad at me

(9:28 PM) texandaddy81: I’m not mad at you, princess. 

(9:29 PM) texandaddy81: Nearly 9:30 though, you gotta be starvin by now. 

(9:29 PM) texandaddy81: I’d like you to take a break for me please, little girl. 

(9:31 PM) puppyprincess12: can i take my break in just a few more minutes sir?

(9:32 PM) puppyprincess12: i just don’t feel like i can stop until i fix this one part of the project that im working on

(9:32 PM) puppyprincess12: once i fix it and feel good about it then i can stop

(9:36 PM) texandaddy81: That’s not how this works, sweetheart. You follow Daddy’s rules and do as he asks like a good girl. No arguing, not when he’s trying to get you to take care of yourself. That’s what you wanted me to help you do, remember?

(9:37 PM) puppyprincess12: yes daddy i remember

(9:39 PM) puppyprincess12: i’ll take a break now 

(9:41 PM) texandaddy81: Thank you puppy. 

(9:55 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 2 images]

(9:55 PM) puppyprincess12: here u go here’s proof

(9:57 PM) puppyprincess12: can i go back to work now

(9:59 PM) texandaddy81: Not yet. Don’t appreciate the attitude I’m getting through your last couple of messages. 

(9:59 PM) puppyprincess12: :(( i’m sorry daddy i’m not trying to give u attitude im just rly stressed about my project 

(10:01 PM) texandaddy81: What about it’s got you so stressed, princess?

(10:02 PM) puppyprincess12: its due tomorrow morning and i just feel like it doesn’t look that good and like something is missing but idk what it is

(10:02 PM) puppyprincess12: i always do rly well in this class and i get perfect grades and good critiques all the time and i don’t want everyone to be disappointed in me if i present something that’s not my best

(10:04 PM) puppyprincess12: don’t want u to be disappointed in me…

(10:05 PM) puppyprincess12: i just need it to be perfect 

(10:05 PM) texandaddy81: I would NOT be disappointed in you. 

(10:07 PM) texandaddy81: It doesn’t need to be perfect, sweetheart. If you’ve done your best then that’s what matters. I don’t want you to push yourself and not take care of yourself over one project. 

(10:08 PM) texandaddy81: Almost puppy’s bedtime, anyway. Take this last bit of time to do what you can and then get some rest, please. 

(10:08 PM) puppyprincess12: okayyyyy

(10:09 PM) texandaddy81: Try again. 

(10:09 PM) puppyprincess12: sorry :((

(10:09 PM) puppyprincess12: i mean yes daddy

(10:11 PM) texandaddy81: Much better. Thank you, princess. 

(10:11 PM) puppyprincess12: :)

(10:32 PM) puppyprincess12: okie i’m in bed now goodnight daddy <3

(10:33 PM) texandaddy81: Goodnight, little one. 

November 10, 2017

(9:15 AM) puppyprincess12: hiiiiii daddy good morning guess what :D

(9:19 AM) texandaddy81: Good morning, princess.

(9:19 AM) texandaddy81: What? 

(9:20 AM) puppyprincess12: nooooo u have to guess

(9:20 AM) texandaddy81: I do?

(9:21 AM) texandaddy81: Hmm…

(9:24 AM) texandaddy81: A witch turned you into a real puppy this mornin and you’re typing this to me using your furry little paws?

(9:25 AM) puppyprincess12: lol noooo daddy guess again

(9:27 AM) texandaddy81: You finally tried your coffee black and discovered that it’s better without any of your oat milk whatever?

(9:28 AM) puppyprincess12: :| no and that’s never gonna happen sorry daddy

(9:29 AM) puppyprincess12: okay 1 more guess

(9:31 AM) texandaddy81: All I can do is try

(9:33 AM) texandaddy81: Don’t suppose it has something to do with your project that was due this mornin?

(9:34 AM) puppyprincess12: yes it does :D

(9:35 AM) puppyprincess12: everybody loved it and my professor gave me rly good compliments on it!!!!

(9:35 AM) puppyprincess12: so i think im gonna get a good grade

(9:42 AM) texandaddy81: That’s amazing, sweetheart! Daddy is very proud of you. You’re such a talented little girl. 

(9:42 AM) puppyprincess12: thank you daddy!!!!! :)

(9:44 AM) texandaddy81: But you know I would’ve been proud of you no matter how it went this morning, don’t you?

(9:45 AM) puppyprincess12: yes sir i do :)

(9:45 AM) texandaddy81: Good. 

(9:52 AM) texandaddy81: Got any plans for the rest of the day?

(10:11 AM) puppyprincess12: well usually when i have a good day in class i get myself an iced coffee as a treat 

(10:13 AM) puppyprincess12: do i have your permission to get myself one sir?

(10:15 AM) texandaddy81: Yes you do, puppy. Thank you for asking. 

(10:16 AM) texandaddy81: I don’t need a picture of it this time, though. Can only imagine what kinda nonsense you’re gonna have that poor barista dump in it for ya. 

(10:19 AM) puppyprincess12: the nonsense is called french vanilla syrup

(10:21 AM) texandaddy81: That don’t even sound natural. 

(10:22 AM) puppyprincess12: it’s not. but it’s yummy and makes it really sweet the way i like it :D

(10:23 AM) texandaddy81: Sweet little drink for a sweet little girl. 

(10:23 AM) puppyprincess12: yea :)

(10:26 AM) texandaddy81: You typically order sweet little drinks of the alcoholic variety, too?

(10:28 AM) texandaddy81: Just tryin to steel myself for whatever might land at our table when we go out this weekend. 

(10:28 AM) puppyprincess12: lol yes i do :)

(10:29 AM) puppyprincess12: i usually order whatever fruity cocktail they have that sounds good and if they don’t have anything i want then i get a sweet white wine

(10:31 AM) puppyprincess12: sometimes i get a cosmo but if it’s not on the menu usually im too shy to order it myself :((

(10:33 AM) texandaddy81: Well, you won’t have to worry about that, sweetheart. Daddy will order for you. 

(10:34 AM) texandaddy81: If you’d like me to. I don’t want to assume. 

(10:36 AM) puppyprincess12: yes please i would love that :)

(10:37 AM) texandaddy81: That’s what I’ll do then, princess. 

(10:37 AM) puppyprincess12: okie <3

(10:41 AM) puppyprincess12: where do u think we’ll go on our date?

(10:43 AM) texandaddy81: Was thinkin Perry’s downtown maybe?

(10:44 AM) texandaddy81: Pick you up around 7 tomorrow night?

(10:46 AM) puppyprincess12: perry’s??????

(10:46 AM) puppyprincess12: are you sure daddy isn’t that place super fancy and expensive??

(10:49 AM) texandaddy81: You sayin you don’t wanna go?

(10:51 AM) puppyprincess12: noooo of course not i just don’t want you to spend a bunch of money on me

(10:53 AM) texandaddy81: It’s up to me what I do with my money, sweetheart. 

(10:54 AM) texandaddy81: You’re a hardworking, talented, beautiful girl, and I think you deserve to be spoiled for a night. 

(10:56 AM) texandaddy81: Deserve to be spoiled for the rest of your life, really. 

(10:57 AM) puppyprincess12: okay as long as you’re sure daddy thank you so much :((

(10:58 AM) texandaddy81: I’m sure, puppy. 

(11:00 AM) puppyprincess12: okie :D

(11:07 AM) puppyprincess12: what would u wanna do after we have dinner?

(11:09 AM) texandaddy81: Probably just be a gentleman and take you back to campus for the rest of the evenin.  

(11:10 AM) puppyprincess12: oh :((

(11:12 AM) texandaddy81: Why're you frowning at me, princess?

(11:15 AM) texandaddy81: You have somethin else in mind?

(11:16 AM) puppyprincess12: maybe…

(11:17 AM) texandaddy81: Yeah? And what would that be?

(11:17 AM) puppyprincess12: i dunno…

(11:19 AM) texandaddy81: Speak, puppy. 

(11:20 AM) puppyprincess12: well remember what u were saying last night?

(11:22 AM) puppyprincess12: about making it fit and stuff…

(11:23 AM) texandaddy81: I remember, babygirl. 

(11:23 AM) puppyprincess12: maybe we could… do that…

(11:25 AM) texandaddy81: Yeah? Want Daddy to wine and dine you and then split you open on his cock?

(11:26 AM) puppyprincess12: uh huh yeah please daddy :((

(11:26 AM) puppyprincess12: haven’t stopped thinking about ur cock since last night i wanna feel it inside me so bad

(11:28 AM) texandaddy81: Eager little whore. 

(11:30 AM) texandaddy81: What if Daddy wanted to have some dessert first? Would you let him?

(11:30 AM) puppyprincess12: of course daddy whatever u want

(11:31 AM) texandaddy81: Could he eat that sweet lil cunt of yours for dessert?

(11:32 AM) puppyprincess12: fuckkkk yes u can daddy

(11:34 AM) texandaddy81: Are you wet again, princess?

(11:35 AM) puppyprincess12: …yes :((

(11:36 AM) texandaddy81: Course you are. 

(11:36 AM) texandaddy81: Show me. 

(11:39 AM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(11:41 AM) texandaddy81: God damn… 

(11:43 AM) texandaddy81: I’d suck on that swollen little clit like a piece of candy, sweetheart. 

(11:43 AM) texandaddy81: If you’d let me. 

(11:44 AM) puppyprincess12: yes daddy u can do whatever u want to me

(11:46 AM) puppyprincess12: tell me what else u wanna do to me pls daddy

(11:47 AM) texandaddy81: God I bet that little princess pussy you got tastes so fucking sweet… Bet she’s so sensitive, too. 

(11:49 AM) texandaddy81: Tell me something, pretty girl. 

(11:49 AM) puppyprincess12: yes daddy anything 

(11:52 AM) texandaddy81: Would you let me get a little rough with you if I wanted to? 

(11:53 AM) texandaddy81: I know you’re a sweet little girl but somethins tellin me you’d let Daddy spank that leaky little puppy hole red if he wanted to. 

(11:53 AM) puppyprincess12: FUCK daddy yes i want it

(11:54 AM) puppyprincess12: bully my little princess cunt make her cry pls pls pls :((

(11:56 AM) texandaddy81: Jesus fuckin Christ gonna have to pull my fucking dick out on the job right now

(11:58 AM) texandaddy81: Just drive me so fuckin crazy puppy can’t stop thinking about you

(11:58 AM) texandaddy81: Every night after you go to sleep I just look back thru your pics and our messages and jerk myself off again I can’t help it you’re just exactly what I’ve been lookin for babygirl

(11:59 AM) puppyprincess12: fuckkkk daddy that’s so fucking hot

(12:01 PM) puppyprincess12: u don’t understand daddy i would literally let u treat me like a fucking dog i don’t care i want it so bad i would let u do whatever u want to me

(12:02 PM) texandaddy81: Yeah? Little bitch in heat, huh?

(12:02 PM) texandaddy81: You wanna be Daddy’s bitch?

(12:03 PM) puppyprincess12: YES DADDY fuck fuck fuck pleaseeeeee 

(12:04 PM) texandaddy81: Better not be fuckin touchin yourself right now doggy

(12:05 PM) texandaddy81: Daddy didn’t say you could

(12:05 PM) texandaddy81: Paws off. 

(12:06 PM) puppyprincess12: “doggy” holy fuckkkkkkkkk

(12:06 PM) puppyprincess12: i’m not touching i promise

(12:07 PM) puppyprincess12: but im so fucking wet and it hurts daddy may i pls use a pillow or something :((

(12:08 PM) texandaddy81: You like that one? Thought you might. 

(12:09 PM) texandaddy81: God what a fucking sight that would be… Desperate puppy rubbin her soaking wet little cunt on a pillow for me…

(12:10 PM) texandaddy81: But no pillow. 

(12:10 PM) texandaddy81: You get to use one of your stuffed animals or you get nothing. 

(12:11 PM) puppyprincess12: fuckkk okay daddy

(12:15 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(12:16 PM) puppyprincess12: his fur is getting soooo wet :(( but it feels so good thank you for letting me use him

(12:17 PM) texandaddy81: God you really just do anything I ask huh such a fucking perfect submissive little bitch

(12:18 PM) texandaddy81: Fucking gorgeous little slut you just get prettier every time I see you baby

(12:18 PM) texandaddy81: Back arched so fucking pretty for me God you’re gonna be fun to play with

(12:19 PM) puppyprincess12: yes daddy wanna be a good little bitch for u

(12:20 PM) puppyprincess12: u can eat my pussy spit on it spank it put tape over it i don’t fucking care i want u to own it 

(12:20 PM) texandaddy81: Fucking right I can

(12:21 PM) texandaddy81: Jesus Christ you’re pathetic 

(12:22 PM) texandaddy81: Show me those pretty tits baby wanna see a lil more of you before I cum all over my fist

(12:22 PM) texandaddy81: God fuckin jerking my dick in one of those filthy porta johns they got on this site don’t even fucking care

(12:25 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(12:25 PM) puppyprincess12: im a little insecure about them but here u go daddy

(12:26 PM) texandaddy81: Fuckkkk sweetheart you got any body part that isn’t fucking perfect??

(12:27 PM) texandaddy81: Those tiny tits that bare lil pussy Jesus fucking Christ babygirl…

(12:27 PM) texandaddy81: Bitty lil things you got bet I could squeeze both of em in one hand. 

(12:28 PM) puppyprincess12: so u like them? dont think they’re too small? :((

(12:28 PM) texandaddy81: Course not puppy they’re gorgeous just like the rest of you

(12:29 PM) texandaddy81: God imagining those little titties bouncing for me when I’m poundin that sweet baby cunt so fucking pretty babygirl

(12:31 PM) texandaddy81: Gonna fuckin cum princess are you close?

(12:31 PM) puppyprincess12: uh huh daddy i’ve been close this whole time just waiting for u to give me permission :((

(12:32 PM) texandaddy81: That’s a good girl

(12:33 PM) texandaddy81: Come for Daddy and send me a video of that swollen lil doggy hole gushin for me

(12:33 PM) puppyprincess12: i will thank u daddy thank u

(12:37 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 video]

(12:39 PM) texandaddy81: Fuck… even sound just like a little puppy when you come, don’t you? 

(12:39 PM) texandaddy81: Whimperin and begging in that sweet lil voice… 

(12:40 PM) texandaddy81: Can’t wait to hear those pathetic lil sounds in person.

(12:42 PM) texandaddy81: Speakin of which…

(12:43 PM) puppyprincess12: yeah ?

(12:44 PM) texandaddy81: Kinda wanna see you tonight if that’s okay… I just don’t know if I can wait any longer to meet you, babygirl.

(12:46 PM) texandaddy81: But if it’s still too soon for you or if you’re busy tonight or somethin I understand

(12:47 PM) puppyprincess12: no i would love to meet u tonight daddy :)

(12:49 PM) texandaddy81: Alright :) I’ll go ahead and make the reservation for 7:15 tonight, okay sweetheart?

(12:53 PM) texandaddy81: I’m assumin you’re at UT Austin… am I right?

(12:54 PM) puppyprincess12: yea :)

(12:56 PM) texandaddy81: I won’t make you tell me exactly where you live or nothin if that would make you uncomfortable… but I sure as hell know where that football stadium is… Wanna meet me there at 7?

(12:58 PM) texandaddy81: I drive a blue pickup with a big white stripe on the side, should be pretty easy to spot

(12:59 PM) puppyprincess12: okie sounds good :)

(1:03 PM) texandaddy81: Is there anythin else I can do that would make you more comfortable meeting up with me? Can give you my phone number if you want…

(1:05 PM) texandaddy81: You can go right ahead and give my picture to one of your roommates so they know who you’ll be with and everythin

(1:06 PM) puppyprincess12: well…

(1:06 PM) puppyprincess12: might be nice to know ur name :) 

(1:08 PM) texandaddy81: You’re right, sweetheart. Not sure why I didn’t think of that one sooner.

(1:09 PM) texandaddy81: My name’s Joel

(1:11 PM) puppyprincess12: ohhhh joel <3 that’s a nice name :)

(1:13 PM) texandaddy81: Thank you kindly

(1:13 PM) texandaddy81: Still Daddy to you though as far as you’re concerned though, yeah? ;)

(1:15 PM) puppyprincess12: of course daddy :)

(1:17 PM) texandaddy81: Alright, I’ll see you tonight then, sweet girl

(1:18 PM) texandaddy81: I better get back to work now, princess. But lemme just say one more thing.

(1:25 PM) texandaddy81: I know I’ve been doin a godawful job of showing you that I really am a gentleman. My mama raised me right, I swear she did, and I plan on provin it to you tonight. I just wanna let you know that if we finish up our dinner and you decide that you really do just want me to take you back to campus afterwards, then that’s what I’ll do. I know I’m the dominant one here, but all I want is for you to feel in control and safe and I’ll do my damndest to help you feel that way. So if you end up feelin like you ain’t really up to making our messages a reality at the end of the night, then that’s fine with me, sweetheart. I ain’t in the business of putting pressure on a girl to do anything beyond what she really wants to do. I just want you to know that before we meet.

(1:27 PM) puppyprincess12: dadddyyyyy :(( <3

(1:28 PM) puppyprincess12: that’s really really sweet of you i appreciate it a lot thank u

(1:28 PM) puppyprincess12: i can’t wait to see u tonight i’m soooo excited

(1:31 PM) puppyprincess12: i know u have to go now but can i send u pics of a couple outfits and u can decide which one i wear when u get a chance ?

(1:33 PM) texandaddy81: Of course I can, sweetheart. Send em on over along with pics of your lunch, please.

(1:34 PM) texandaddy81: Be good, talk to you again soon, puppy

(1:34 PM) puppyprincess12: i will :)

(1:47 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(1:47 PM) puppyprincess12: here is lunch and my water i made a grilled cheese

(2:01 PM) puppyprincess12: [Attachment: 1 image]

(2:02 PM) puppyprincess12: and here are my outfits let me know which one u like best daddy :)

(6:13 PM) texandaddy81: Wow… I think you’d look gorgeous in all of em but that pretty red dress is really speakin to me

(6:15 PM) puppyprincess12: yay i love that dress i was hoping u would pick that one :)

(6:16 PM) puppyprincess12: i have my hair and makeup done and everything i just need to get dressed and then i’ll be ready

(6:20 PM) texandaddy81: Alright sweetheart, no rush. I just got home myself so gimme a little bit to clean up nice and I’ll let you know when I’m headin over, alright?

(6:21 PM) puppyprincess12: alright daddy :)

(6:50 PM) texandaddy81: Gettin in the truck now, see you in a little bit, princess

(6:51 PM) puppyprincess12: okay i’m walking over to the stadium now!!!

(7:00 PM) texandaddy81: Just pulled up across from the library

(7:00 PM) texandaddy81: That you across the street? Pretty girl with the red dress and black purse?

(7:01 PM) puppyprincess12: omg yes i see you hi daddy!!!!!! 

(7:01 PM) puppyprincess12: i’m coming now

(7:02 PM) texandaddy81: Careful crossing the street babygirl.

(11:36 PM) texandaddy81: I know I just dropped you off but God I gotta see you again

(11:37 PM) texandaddy81: Gotta sound like a broken record by now but Lord you are just so beautiful, princess. Even prettier and sweeter and more perfect in person. Just feel like I won the damn lottery meeting you on here.

(11:41 PM) texandaddy81: Anyway. Thank you for spending your evenin with me

(11:45 PM) puppyprincess12: aweee thank u daddy :(( you are so handsome i kept having to remember to focus on what u were saying to me at dinner bc i was just staring at you

(11:45 PM) puppyprincess12: thank you soooo much for dinner daddy and for the amazing time afterwards ;)

(11:47 PM) puppyprincess12: u made me feel so fucking good i’m gonna be thinking about it all weekend

(11:48 PM) texandaddy81: You’re much too sweet, princess

(11:49 PM) texandaddy81: And you’re welcome, sweet girl. For both. ;)

(11:51 PM) texandaddy81: Apologies ahead of time if you’re still sore in the mornin…

(11:53 PM) puppyprincess12: lol it’s okie i asked for it

(11:55 PM) texandaddy81: Begged for it, more like. Didn’t you, doggy?

(11:56 PM) puppyprincess12: yes daddy :((

(11:56 PM) puppyprincess12: fuck dont call me that im gonna get wet again :((

(11:58 PM) texandaddy81: Sorry, sweetheart. It’s just too easy…

(11:58 PM) texandaddy81: Knew you were gonna be fun to play with.

(12:03 AM) texandaddy81: But I’ll stop. Not because you told me to, just so she don’t get all worked up again. Both of you worked plenty hard for me tonight, you and her should get some rest, puppy.

(12:09 AM) texandaddy81: But whaddya say? Can we keep doin this?

(12:14 AM) puppyprincess12: yes please daddy :)

(12:15 AM) texandaddy81: Alright :)

(12:17 AM) texandaddy81: I know I kept you out a good bit past your bedtime, I hope you’ve been getting yourself ready for bed while we’ve been talkin

(12:19 AM) puppyprincess12: uh huh i have been :) just gotta change into my pjs then i’m ready

(12:23 AM) puppyprincess12: okie i’m in bed now

(12:24 AM) puppyprincess12: thank u so much again for everything daddy i had a rly good time <3

(12:26 AM) texandaddy81: I did too :)

(12:27 AM) texandaddy81: Goodnight, babygirl. Talk to you again tomorrow.

(12:29 AM) texandaddy81: Maybe we can talk about what we’re gonna do next time around ;)

(12:29 AM) texandaddy81: Start dreamin up some ideas for me tonight okay?

(12:30 AM) puppyprincess12: okay daddy i will :D goodnight <3

profile edits made by @polaroidpascal

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-heldd @dilfgestivo @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg @alex-does-art-things @evolnoomym @annoyingmarvelreader @joelsdagger @natalieispunk @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @galway-girlatwork @pinkiec6-rubi @wand-erer5 @arminsbf @shivispunk @gigistorm @theoreticalfreak @vinceelser @zliteraturehoe @k1l4ni @hjzghi-blog @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[joeloverture]

the difference between coach!joel and his players?

he keeps dropping the ball. 🏈

ELEVEN MONTHS I HAVE SUFFERED. trying to write this has been the equivalent of climbing mount everest. then i discovered my issue: i was trying to be too serious. NO. this blog started with a dumbass reader sneaking into a football stadium after hours to vandalize her dumbass ex's jersey. so the logical next step is this one.

aiming for a wednesday night release — at worst, friday night. regardless. he is coming. figuratively and literally.

REREAD PART ONE HERE

[sweetestcowboy]

ugh i just know joel miller would always treat me right

worship

Ignored and humiliated by your husband, you find yourself in Joel's arms-his best friend who's been silently craving you for far too long. One heated night pushes you both over the edge, and Joel isn't holding back. He's ready to give you what your husband never could: everything.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cheating, body worship, your husband treating you bad, Joel treating you good, oral (f receiving), kissing, (P in V), pinning, cumming Inside, breeding kink, Joel gets nasty with it, 10k

Part: 2

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

The late afternoon sunlight filtered gently through the lace curtains, casting soft patterns across the dining table where you sat with Sarah, helping her with her homework. Your smile, though kind, felt heavy today. You leaned over the table, explaining a math problem to her with patience, even though your mind was clouded with thoughts of your husband.

It had been weeks—maybe months—since he’d been fully present. You had long suspected something was off, but now it was undeniable. He came home late, if at all, and when he did, his eyes never seemed to meet yours. You’d catch glimpses of texts on his phone, messages you weren’t supposed to see. You weren’t stupid. You knew.

But you’d spent so long being the perfect wife, the one who never caused trouble. He’d always introduced you as his “trophy,” an arm to show off at events, beautiful and polished. It was the role you’d filled for years, playing the part he wanted you to play. Smile, be perfect, don’t question. And you had been doing just that for far too long, even though inside you were crumbling.

You brushed a strand of hair from your face and forced a warm smile as Sarah struggled with her fractions.

You adored Joel’s daughter. She was smart, sweet, and had a lightness about her that made your heart ache with a longing for the family you never had. Sarah was only fourteen, but she had a way of reading people that made you think she saw right through you.

“You’re doing great, sweetie,” you encouraged her softly. “Just think of the numerator as the number on top and the denominator as the number on the bottom.”

Sarah gave you a soft smile, but it was clear she wasn’t fully focused. Her big, brown eyes studied you carefully, picking up on the sadness that lingered just beneath the surface of your cheerful demeanor.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice hesitant but filled with concern. “You seem… off today.”

Your heart sank a little at the realization that she noticed. You were supposed to be the adult here, the one keeping it all together, but it was getting harder to hide the cracks. You blinked back the tears threatening to well up, reaching over to give Sarah’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m okay, baby,” you whispered softly, trying to steady your voice. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

Sarah looked at you for a moment longer, her brow furrowed as if she didn’t quite believe you, but she didn’t push it. She was too kind for that, too sweet. You wished your own husband had even a fraction of the empathy this girl had. Instead, he barely acknowledged your presence anymore, leaving you to feel like a ghost in your own home.

After Sarah finished her homework, you walked her to the door, sending her off with her usual hug. She hugged you back tightly, sensing more than you were letting on, but when you said goodbye, you assured her again that you were fine. She gave you one last concerned look before heading home.

After Sarah left, the silence in the house became overwhelming, filling every corner with the weight of your thoughts.

You leaned against the door for a moment, closing your eyes, fighting the urge to let the tears spill over. It was getting harder to keep up the facade. The loneliness, the sense of being unseen in your own marriage—it was suffocating.

You’d done everything you could to save the relationship, to bring back the warmth that had once existed between you and your husband, but there was nothing left.

With a deep breath, you pushed away from the door and headed to the kitchen, trying to busy yourself with anything that could distract you from the ache in your chest. But the sound of a knock at the door startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You weren’t expecting anyone.

When you opened it, Joel stood on your porch, concern etched into his rugged features. His broad shoulders seemed even larger framed by the doorway, his familiar Texas drawl cutting through the silence as he spoke.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gentle but serious. “Sarah told me you weren’t doing too good today. Figured I’d come by and check on you.”

You blinked, surprised but not unwelcome to see him standing there. It took a moment for you to gather your thoughts, your heart catching in your throat at the sight of him. Joel had always been kind to you, always present in a way your husband wasn’t. He was a steady, comforting presence in your life, one you had grown to rely on more than you ever intended.

“I—I’m fine,” you stammered, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to worry her. It’s just been a long day.”

Joel’s brow furrowed, and he didn’t hesitate to step inside, closing the door behind him. He looked down at you with those dark, thoughtful eyes of his, reading you in ways you wished your husband still could. His gaze softened, but he didn’t buy your answer for a second.

“You don’t gotta put up a front with me,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I can tell somethin’s been bothering you.”

It was those words—the way he said them with such understanding, such care—that made something in you break. You couldn’t hold it together any longer, not with Joel standing there, offering the kind of concern and kindness you hadn’t felt in so long. The tears you had been holding back began to well up again, this time falling before you could stop them.

Joel stepped forward, his hands settling gently on your arms.

“Hey, hey now… don’t cry,” he murmured softly. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

His words, so simple yet so full of warmth, only made the tears come faster. You wiped at your cheeks, embarrassed that you were falling apart like this in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to… it’s just… everything feels so wrong.”

Joel’s grip tightened slightly, a gesture of reassurance. He guided you over to the couch, sitting beside you as you tried to compose yourself. You leaned into him instinctively, finding comfort in the solid presence of his body next to yours. Joel had always had this way of making you feel safe, like you could let your guard down without fear of judgment.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly, his hand still resting on your arm, warm and steady.

You hesitated, the words heavy in your throat. You’d kept it all inside for so long, afraid to say it out loud, afraid that acknowledging it would make it all too real. But sitting there, with Joel looking at you like he genuinely cared, it all came tumbling out.

“He doesn’t care anymore, Joel,” you murmured, the words spilling from your lips, weighed down by the months of heartache you had been carrying. “It’s like I’m invisible to him. He doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t even look at me… and I know he’s seeing someone else.”

The effect on Joel was immediate. His jaw clenched tightly, the muscles in his face twitching as he tried to contain the anger that flared up inside him.

His eyes darkened, filling with a storm of emotions—disbelief, frustration, and something protective, primal. His hand, which had been resting gently on your arm, tightened its grip slightly, grounding you as he processed your words.

He stared at you for a long moment, his face a mix of shock and disbelief, as if he couldn’t comprehend how anyone could treat you that way.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Joel muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice low and rough. “How could he—how could anyone—do that to you? To you of all people?”

He shook his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. His voice softened, but the rough edges of his anger were still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

“You deserve so much more than that. You deserve someone who sees you, who knows just how lucky they are to have you.”

Joel leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, urgent murmur as he continued.

“You’re kind, thoughtful… hell, you’re always puttin’ everyone else first. The way you care for Sarah like she’s your own, the way you keep your home so warm and welcoming, the way you’ve always been there for him… you’re so damn good, and he doesn’t even see it.” He shook his head again, the disbelief etched deep in his furrowed brow.

“How could he not see that? How could he throw that away?”

His eyes softened as he looked at you, filled with a mixture of admiration and frustration.

“It breaks my heart to see you treated like this. You deserve someone who cherishes you, who shows up for you, every day… who loves you for exactly who you are.”

His words hit you like a wave, each one wrapped in the raw sincerity and care that had always been so natural for Joel. You could see the anger and confusion in his eyes—he truly couldn’t understand how anyone could treat you as anything less than extraordinary.

You had been trying so hard to convince yourself that it was enough to be the perfect wife, to keep playing the role you had been assigned, but Joel’s kindness made you question all of it. His care, his attention—it was what you had been craving for so long, and now, here he was, offering it to you without asking for anything in return.

“But I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling as the weight of everything settled heavily on your shoulders. “I’ve tried so hard to make it work, to be what he wants, but nothing’s enough.”

Joel’s hand lifted to your face, gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his palm grounded you, the rough texture of his skin a stark contrast to the tenderness in his touch. He guided your face to meet his eyes, filled with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“You don’t need to be what he wants,” Joel said, his voice low, almost a growl, roughened by emotion.

“You deserve to be seen, to be loved for who you are. Not just for what you can give someone else.”

His words hung in the air between you, wrapping around your heart, pulling at the deepest parts of you that had felt so neglected, so starved for this very thing—connection.

The space between you felt charged, heavy with unspoken emotions that had been simmering for far too long. It was as though every unexpressed feeling, every suppressed desire had built up into a moment that neither of you could stop.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the ache of loneliness and longing that had been gnawing at you for months. Joel had always been there, quietly, steadily, offering you the care your husband never could.

And now, sitting so close to him, his hand on your cheek, the warmth of his body radiating toward you, the pull between you was undeniable.

“Joel…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, your gaze flickering between his deep brown eyes and his lips, so close, so tempting.

He didn’t move away. Instead, his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. His touch was tender, but his eyes were dark, filled with something deeper—something that had been quietly building between you for longer than either of you cared to admit.

“I’ll take care of you,” Joel whispered, his voice rough with the promise of protection, of something more. “You don’t have to go through this alone anymore.”

Your heart raced, torn between the vulnerability of the moment and the undeniable comfort of his words.

The way he spoke, the way he looked at you—it was everything you had been craving for so long. The tenderness you had missed, the feeling of being truly seen, appreciated, cared for. It was overwhelming. And yet…

Before you could fully process what was happening, Joel leaned in. His lips brushed against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. The world around you seemed to disappear, the only thing grounding you being the warmth of his lips and the steady strength of his hand still cradling your face.

The kiss was gentle at first, full of the tenderness and care you had longed for, but there was something else beneath it, something more intense, more primal, as if he had been holding back for too long and couldn’t anymore.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if needing something to hold on to, something solid in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

His kiss deepened slightly, his other hand moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer. It felt like everything you had wanted—someone who saw you, who cared for you, who wanted you.

But just as quickly as the warmth of the kiss had filled you, the weight of guilt crashed down like a tidal wave. You broke away, pulling back suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest, breath coming in short gasps. You shook your head, stepping out of his reach, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips, but your mind already spinning.

“I—” you stammered, the words barely forming as you backed away, your hands trembling. “I can’t… I’m sorry, Joel, I just… I can’t do this.”

The look on Joel’s face was one of hurt and confusion, but also understanding. He stood there, his arms falling to his sides as he watched you retreat.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, his voice gentle, though the rough edge of his emotion was still there. “You don’t need to apologize.”

You took another step back, trying to steady yourself, your heart in your throat. “It’s not right,” you murmured, your voice trembling as you tried to rationalize everything that had just happened. “I can’t… I’m still married, and this… this is wrong.”

Joel didn’t argue. He didn’t push. He just watched you, his eyes filled with a mixture of understanding and a quiet sorrow.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt anymore,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. “You deserve better than the way he treats you.”

His words hit you hard, but you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t face the reality of what had just happened, of what you had almost allowed yourself to feel. The guilt was too much, too overwhelming. You turned away, your hands still trembling as you moved toward the stairs, needing distance, needing space to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice barely audible as you left Joel standing alone in the living room. You hurried upstairs, your heart heavy, your mind racing, every step a reminder of the pull between you and Joel that you had just tried so desperately to resist.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you paused, your hand gripping the banister as you tried to steady your breath. You could still feel the warmth of his lips on yours, the safety of his arms around you, and it terrified you.

Because for the first time in so long, you had felt something real, something you wanted. And yet, the weight of everything else—your marriage, your vows, the guilt—it was too much to bear.

You didn’t look back, but you could feel Joel’s presence downstairs, lingering in the quiet of the house. His words echoed in your mind, and despite everything, you knew deep down that what he had said was true: you deserved more. But admitting that meant facing the truth about everything you had been avoiding for so long.

And you weren’t ready for that.

· · ─────

The days following the kiss were thick with awkwardness and tension that hung between you and Joel like a fog neither of you knew how to clear. Every time you thought about it—his lips on yours, the tenderness in his touch, the way he had made you feel seen and wanted—your stomach twisted with guilt. But there was another feeling too, one that gnawed at you in the quiet moments when you were alone: longing. That kiss had stirred something deep inside you, something that had been buried for far too long, and now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

You longed for that feeling again—the safety, the warmth, the tenderness that had been absent from your life for so long. It made the distance between you and your husband feel even wider, the coldness in your marriage more unbearable. But despite how much you tried to shake it, that kiss was constantly on your mind.

Then came the day Joel came over to watch the football game with your husband. You knew it was coming—your husband had mentioned it in passing—but you weren’t prepared to see Joel again. The thought of being in the same room as him after what had happened made your heart race and your palms sweat.

When Joel arrived, you could hear his familiar knock on the door, followed by your husband’s slurred greeting. He had already been drinking, you noticed. You had hoped he would keep it under control, but knowing him, that was never a safe bet.

You opened the door and found Joel standing there, looking as calm and collected as ever. But the moment his eyes met yours, a wave of heat rushed to your face, your heart skipping in your chest. You tried to keep your expression neutral, but it was impossible to ignore the way the memory of that kiss flooded your senses all at once.

He shifted slightly, his hands slipping into his pockets, as if he was just as unsure of how to handle the tension between you. His gaze flickered over your face for just a second longer than it should have, his eyes darkening with something unspoken before he quickly looked away.

You felt the blush creeping up your neck, your cheeks growing warmer by the second. You cleared your throat, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to greet him without giving anything away.

“H-hi, Joel,” you stammered, forcing yourself to look at him, even though your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. Your fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of your shirt, desperate to find something—anything—to do with your hands.

Joel’s eyes flicked back to yours briefly, and you could see the hesitation there, the same uncertainty you were feeling. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his voice coming out low and gruff, but with a warmth that only made you blush harder.

“hello there,” he said, his tone casual, but the way his eyes softened when he looked at you made your stomach flip.

The awkwardness was palpable, like neither of you knew exactly what to say. You wanted to hide from the intensity of the moment, to avoid the feelings that had been swirling between you since that kiss. Your gaze darted down to your feet, your fingers still twisting the fabric of your shirt nervously.

Your husband’s voice suddenly bellowed from the living room, a loud demand for more beer, pulling both of you out of the charged moment. Joel winced slightly, his brow furrowing in mild annoyance at the sound, but you just gave a small, flustered nod.

“Uh, I’ll get that for him,” you mumbled quickly, stepping aside to let Joel in, your skin tingling with the awareness of how close he was as he brushed past you.

As Joel entered, you couldn’t help but glance at him one last time, your heart racing again when you saw the way his eyes lingered on you for a brief second before he turned toward the living room, where your husband was already half-immersed in the game.

“Thanks,” Joel murmured softly, his voice still gruff but gentle as he moved to sit beside your husband.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You knew tonight was going to be hard—being in the same room as Joel, pretending that nothing had changed. But the way your heart leapt every time you caught his eye made it clear that things were far from normal between you.

The night dragged on painfully, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. Your husband’s drinking had started early, his excitement for the game quickly turning into something darker, something meaner as the alcohol took hold. It wasn’t unusual for him to drink during football, but tonight, it seemed worse than usual. Each beer drained away whatever patience he had left, and you could feel his mood souring with every sip.

“Get me another one,” he grunted, not bothering to look at you as he pointed at the empty bottle on the coffee table.

You moved quickly, not wanting to cause a scene, especially not with Joel sitting there. The last thing you needed was for Joel to witness the full extent of your husband’s irritability. But as you handed him the beer, your husband’s gaze flickered up to you, and his expression turned sour.

“Can’t you just do one damn thing right?” he muttered, snatching the bottle from your hand. His words were slurred but sharp, laced with frustration as if your mere presence irritated him.

Your cheeks flushed with humiliation, the familiar sting of his words settling deep inside you. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you from across the room, but you didn’t dare look at him. The embarrassment was too much. All you wanted was to get through the night, to make it out of this room with what little dignity you had left.

But it only got worse. As the game continued, your husband’s tone grew harsher, his demands more insistent.

“Get me some more chips,” he barked, barely glancing at you. You quickly obliged, fetching the bowl from the kitchen, trying to keep your hands steady as you placed it on the table in front of him.

Joel, always polite, nodded in your direction. “Thanks,” he said softly, his voice warm and sincere. The contrast between Joel’s quiet gratitude and your husband’s increasing belligerence was jarring, and it only made the ache in your chest worse.

As you turned to walk back to the kitchen, you felt it—your husband’s hand coming down hard on your ass, the slap echoing through the room. You froze in place, your entire body going rigid as the sting of his hand sent a wave of humiliation crashing over you.

“Good girl,” he slurred, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’re real good at one thing at least, huh?”

The room felt like it was spinning, your face burning with shame. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, to even breathe for a moment. Joel was right there. He had seen it all.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the humiliation overwhelming, crushing. You had endured so much already—his cruelty, his indifference—but this? In front of Joel?

You couldn’t stay in the room any longer. Without a word, you turned and walked quickly toward the stairs, your vision blurring as the tears threatened to spill. You could hear your husband muttering something under his breath, but you didn’t care. You just needed to get away.

As you reached the bathroom, you closed the door behind you and leaned against the sink, gripping the edges tightly as the tears finally came. Your breath hitched in your throat as you tried to hold it together, but it was no use. The humiliation, the shame—it was all too much.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, your reflection blurred by the tears that streamed down your face.

What had happened to you? How had things gotten this bad?

You had spent years trying to hold onto the marriage, trying to make things work, but now it felt like you were nothing more than an afterthought, a servant in your own home. The sting of his hand, the cruel way he had dismissed you—it was unbearable.

You didn’t know how long you had been standing there when you heard a soft knock at the bathroom door.

“Hey… it’s me,” Joel’s voice came from the other side, low and cautious, full of concern.

Your heart tightened in your chest. You weren’t sure if you could face him, not after what had just happened. Not after he had seen the way your husband had treated you. But Joel wasn’t like your husband. He had always been kind, always understanding. He had seen you—truly seen you—when no one else had.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly.

You hesitated for a moment, wiping at your tear-streaked face as you tried to compose yourself. Then, slowly, you unlocked the door and pulled it open just enough to let him in.

Joel stepped inside, his presence filling the small space, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. His eyes softened when he saw your tear-streaked face, his brow furrowing in concern.

“I’m sorry,” Joel murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean for things to get like that.”

You shook your head quickly, wiping at your eyes again. “It’s not your fault,” you whispered. “It’s just… this is how it is. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Joel’s expression darkened slightly, but not with anger—just with sadness, frustration at the situation. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a tear from your cheek, his touch so different from the harshness you had just experienced. His fingers were warm, careful, like he was afraid to push you any further than you were ready for.

“You don’t deserve this,” he said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “You deserve better than the way he treats you.”

His words broke something inside you, and you felt your lip tremble as another sob escaped. You had been holding it in for so long—holding everything in, trying to be strong, trying to make it work. But now, standing here with Joel, it all came crashing down.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I feel so trapped.”

Joel didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, his eyes locked on yours, full of understanding. And then, quietly, he spoke again.

“You don’t have to go through this alone,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. Whatever you need… I’m here.”

The warmth in his words, the tenderness in his touch—it was more than you had felt in years. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt seen, felt valued. It stirred something deep inside you, something desperate and raw, a need that had been pushed down for so long.

Before you could even think about it, you lunged toward him, closing the small distance between you and crashing your lips into his. It wasn’t delicate or hesitant—it was a kiss born out of longing, out of months, maybe even years, of being unseen, unheard.

Your hands fisted into his shirt, pulling him closer as your body pressed against his, needing more, needing all of him.

Joel responded immediately, his hands gripping your waist as he kissed you back with a fierceness that matched your own. There was no hesitation in the way his lips moved against yours, no doubt in the way he held you tight.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, his mouth hungry, demanding.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was fire, igniting every nerve in your body. His kiss was rough, filled with a desperation that mirrored your own, like he had been holding back for too long and finally, finally, he could let go. The tension between you, all the unspoken words, all the stolen glances—it was exploding now in this moment, and neither of you could stop it.

Your heart raced as your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him under your fingertips. The years of loneliness, of being ignored, melted away with every touch, every kiss. Joel’s hands were everywhere, pulling you closer, pressing you against him as if he was afraid to let go.

He pulled back just slightly, his breath ragged, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice rough and thick with emotion, his lips still brushing against yours. “God, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

You couldn’t respond with words—you didn’t need to. Instead, you pulled him back into the kiss, your lips crashing together again, more desperate, more urgent. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you slightly as he backed you up against the bathroom wall, pinning you there as he kissed you harder, deeper.

There was no space left between you, no room for doubt or hesitation. Your body responded to his in ways you hadn’t felt in years, every nerve alight with the intensity of it. His hands slid down your sides, rough and possessive, holding you tightly as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You could feel the heat rising between you, the desperation building, as if all the longing, all the frustration had finally found an outlet. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, each touch making your breath hitch, your body arch into his.

“Joel…” you whispered, your voice breathless, barely able to get the words out.

But he already knew. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was even more intense, more consuming than before. You were lost in him, lost in the feel of him, the taste of him. Everything else—the hurt, the humiliation, the loneliness—faded away until there was only this moment, only Joel.

This was what you had been missing. This was what you had been longing for. And for the first time in so long, you felt alive.

Joel’s breath was hot against your skin as his lips moved along the curve of your neck, each kiss searing into you, grounding you in this moment, in him. His hands gripped you firmly, possessive yet tender, his touch a reassurance that you were more than what you had been made to feel for so long.

“God, you have no idea,” he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with need. “You’re everythin’. You deserve so much more than what he gives you. So much more.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the intensity in his tone, the sincerity. You could feel the heat between you building, your heart pounding as his lips moved lower, kissing along your collarbone, your chest. You were lost in the sensation, the way his hands moved over you, the way his breath ghosted over your skin.

Joel's kisses became more urgent, more fervent, as he slowly knelt before you, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants. He paused for a moment, looking up at you with an expression that was both filled with desire and a silent question—a request for permission, for trust.

“Let me worship you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, his hands steady as he began to ease your pants down, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent sparks through you. “I want to show you how much you mean to me. I want you to feel everything.”

The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity as he pulled your pants away, his eyes dark with want as he drank in the sight of you.

Joel stood, lifting you effortlessly in his arms, turning and pressing you gently but firmly against the wall. The coolness of the tile was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off of him, his body holding yours securely, every inch of your weight supported by his strength.

“You’re everythin’,” he murmured again, his lips finding yours in a deep, lingering kiss before trailing down your neck. “You deserve the world. And I’m gonna it to you.”

Without breaking the kiss, he shifted you slightly, his hands gripping your thighs as he held you against the wall. His mouth moved lower, his lips, his tongue, trailing over your stomach, your hips, until he was kneeling before you again, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady as he pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh.

The sensation of his breath against your skin made your head spin, the anticipation building as his kisses grew slower, more deliberate, inching closer and closer to the center of your need. Every kiss, every touch felt like a promise—a promise that you were cherished, that you were seen.

Joel’s lips trembled against your skin as he kissed down your stomach, rough and hungry, his hands gripping your hips tightly as though he was afraid to let go.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark with desire, and his breath came out hot against your bare thighs as he spread you open for him, his tongue flicking out to tease the edges of your soaked entrance.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he growled, his voice deep and husky. "I've been waitin’ for this, waitin’ to taste this sweet pussy. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about it—about you."

You gasped as he buried his face between your legs, his tongue flat and wide as he dragged it through your folds, groaning like he was savoring every drop.

His lips latched onto your clit, sucking hard, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your body. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as your legs trembled, and he groaned again, the vibration making you whimper.

"God, you're perfect," Joel mumbled against you, his voice muffled as he licked you with long, languid strokes. "This cunt is all mine tonight, yeah? You feel that? You hear that? This pussy's mine."

He sucked noisily, deliberately making sure every stroke of his tongue was loud, wet, and filthy. You could hear the lewd slurping sounds as he devoured you, his mouth greedy and desperate as if he’d been starving for this moment.

Your breath came out in ragged gasps, your whole body burning under his relentless attention.

“What if he hears?” you whispered, your voice shaky as your head fell back against the wall. “Joel… what if—”

“He won’t hear shit,” Joel cut you off, his voice rough with possessiveness. “That asshole’s passed out cold on the couch. Even if he could hear, I wouldn’t stop. He doesn’t deserve you. But I do.”

His tongue plunged into you, fucking you with wet, deep strokes, his nose brushing against your swollen clit as he grunted against you. “This pussy tastes so fuckin’ sweet, baby. All I want is to hear you moan for me. Let him fuckin’ hear it.”

You couldn’t help but whimper, your hips bucking against his face as he growled, his tongue thrusting deeper, his lips and chin coated with your arousal. He pulled back for just a second, his breath heavy, his eyes wild as he looked up at you.

"Fuck, I could eat this pussy all night," he murmured, his voice almost a snarl as he gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you even closer. "I want to make you come on my tongue over and over, until you can't stand. You deserve to be worshipped like this. I’m not stoppin’ until you scream my name."

With that, he dove back in, his tongue swirling over your clit as he sucked you harder, his mouth relentless. You moaned louder, your fingers tugging at his hair as your body arched off the wall, pleasure crashing through you with every filthy stroke of his tongue.

He groaned again, louder this time, savoring every moment as he devoured you, his mouth hot and hungry, like he couldn’t get enough.

He alternated between sucking your clit hard, his lips tight around the sensitive bud, and sliding his tongue deep inside you, fucking your pussy with slow, torturous strokes.

Each time you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, his hands gripping your thighs so hard it felt like he was staking a claim.

"Yeah, that’s it," he murmured between licks, his voice raw. "I want to hear you scream for me. Let me hear how much you love it when I eat this sweet little cunt."

Your moans grew louder, filling the bathroom as Joel’s tongue worked you harder, faster, his groans matching your own as he lost himself in the taste of you.

His hands slid up your body, gripping your breasts roughly as he continued to feast on you, the pleasure so intense it was overwhelming. You couldn’t stop yourself anymore—every nerve was on fire, your mind blank as you gave in completely to him.

"Joel, fuck, I’m gonna—" you gasped, your thighs trembling as you teetered on the edge of release.

"Cum for me, baby," he growled, his voice hoarse as his tongue flicked over your clit again, harder, faster, relentless. "Cum on my tongue. I want to taste all of it."

With a final, devastating suck on your clit, you shattered. Pleasure slammed into you, your entire body shaking as you screamed his name, your nails digging into his scalp as he held you in place, his mouth still working you through the waves of your orgasm.

Joel didn’t stop—he kept licking, kept sucking, devouring every drop as your body convulsed, the intensity of it making your legs shake.

He moaned against you, his tongue softening slightly but still teasing your swollen clit as you came down, his grip on your hips loosening just enough to let you catch your breath.

When he finally pulled back, his face was slick with your arousal, his eyes dark with lust as he looked up at you, his chest heaving.

"You taste like heaven," he rasped, his voice thick with satisfaction as he stood, pressing his body against yours again, his lips crashing into yours in a bruising kiss.

You could taste yourself on his lips, feel the raw, aching desire still burning between you, and you knew this was only the beginning.

“That’s what you deserve,” he whispered, his hands roaming over your body, possessive and loving all at once. “And I’m not done worshippin’ you.”

Joel’s hands moved up your body slowly, deliberately, as if savoring every second his fingers touched your skin. His breath was still ragged, and his lips were barely an inch from yours as he whispered against them, his voice rough but tender.

“If you were my woman, I’d never let you leave the house without makin’ you cum at least twice,” he murmured, his words sending a shiver through you. “And here he is, treatin’ you like garbage. Doesn’t he see? You’re a goddess.”

He paused, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, his touch gentle but insistent as he slowly pulled it up, over your head, tossing it to the side. His eyes darkened with hunger as he gazed at your bare skin, his breath coming out in a heavy exhale as he traced his fingers along the curve of your waist, up to the clasp of your bra.

“You represent everything good in this world,” Joel continued, his voice deepening as his fingers worked to unhook your bra, his eyes locked on yours. “He should feel so damn lucky to have you. How can he not see what he has?”

Your bra fell away, and his eyes dropped to your breasts, the sight of them making him groan deeply, the sound vibrating in his chest. His hands cupped them reverently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as his lips curled into a smirk.

“These,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, “prove my point exactly.”

Without another word, Joel dipped his head, his lips brushing against one of your nipples before he drew it into his mouth, sucking gently at first, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak.

The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight through your core, your back arching as you gasped, your hands instinctively finding his hair, pulling him closer.

He groaned again, his hand kneading your other breast as his mouth worked your nipple with expert precision, sucking harder, his tongue flicking over the sensitive flesh with just the right amount of pressure. Every movement of his mouth, every touch of his hands, felt like he was worshipping you, like you were something precious and sacred.

“I swear,” Joel mumbled against your skin, his lips trailing to your other nipple, sucking it into his mouth with the same intensity.

“If you were mine, I’d worship this body every damn day. You deserve to be treated like the goddess you are, not some afterthought.”

His teeth grazed your nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you, making you whimper as he continued to suck and lick, his hands never leaving your body, constantly exploring, worshipping. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you, his mouth greedy, his hands possessive, but all of it wrapped in the tenderness that made your heart ache.

“Look at you,” he groaned, his breath hot against your skin as he switched between your breasts, lavishing each one with the same amount of attention. “Every part of you is fuckin’ perfect.”

His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you, his erection hard and insistent through his jeans. The friction only added to the heat between you, the tension building with every kiss, every touch. Joel’s lips moved back up to your neck, his breath ragged as he pressed soft kisses along your jawline, his words spilling out between them.

“I could spend all night tastin’ you, touchin’ you,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with raw emotion. “You deserve to feel this good all the time. I’d make sure you never forgot it.”

Your mind was spinning, your body burning under his touch. Every word he spoke, every movement of his mouth, was like gasoline on a fire, and you were completely consumed by him, by the way he made you feel—seen, wanted, worshipped.

Joel’s hands slid back up to your breasts, kneading them as his lips claimed yours in another searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he pressed you harder against the wall, his body radiating heat, his need for you palpable.

“Tell me,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me how much you want this.”

Your breath hitched, your lips parting as his words hung in the air between you. The heat in his eyes, the intensity of his touch—it was overwhelming, and you couldn’t stop yourself from responding.

“I want it so bad, Joel,” you whispered, your voice shaky with need, your body arching into him. “Please… take your clothes off. I need to feel you.”

He groaned at your words, his hands gripping your hips tightly, his erection pressing harder against you.

“Yeah, baby,” he growled, his lips brushing yours, “you need to see a real man. Feel a real cock, not just someone who acts like one. I’ll show you the difference.”

With a swift movement, Joel pulled back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, revealing the broad, muscular chest that you’d only stolen glances at before. His skin glistened with sweat, his muscles flexing as he moved, and the sight of him made your mouth water. Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles as you let out a soft moan of appreciation.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you murmured, your voice breathless as your hands wandered lower, desperate to feel every inch of him.

Joel smirked, his hands already working to unbuckle his jeans, his voice dropping to a rough, dirty whisper. “You want this cock, hm? You’ve been starving for it—starving for a man who knows how to take care of you, who knows how to make you cum like you deserve.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as he pushed his jeans and boxers down in one fluid motion, his thick, hard cock springing free, already leaking with precum. It was big—thick and long, veins running down the shaft, the head swollen and glistening.

He gave it a slow stroke, his eyes locked on yours, the sight making your thighs clench with anticipation.

“See this?” he growled, tapping his cock against your thigh, making your breath hitch. “This is what you’ve been missin’. And I’m gonna make sure you never forget what a real man feels like.”

You whimpered in response, your hands reaching out to touch him, to wrap your fingers around his length, but he pulled back slightly, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Not yet, baby,” he murmured, his voice full of filthy promise. “I want you to feel it everywhere first.”

With that, Joel pressed his cock against your stomach, dragging it slowly across your skin, leaving a slick trail of precum in its wake. You moaned, the sensation driving you wild, your body arching into him as you felt the heat of his shaft sliding over your skin.

“Fuck, you look so good with my cock on you,” he groaned, his hand gripping his length as he slid it up between your breasts, over your chest, your neck, and then back down again. “You want this. You want to feel it inside you, stretchin’ you, fillin’ you up.”

“Yes, Joel, please,” you whimpered, your voice shaking with desperation. “I need it. I need you. I want your cock so bad, I can’t stand it.”

He chuckled darkly, his hand moving to tap the thick head of his cock against your clit, the sudden jolt of pleasure making you cry out.

“You want it here, yeah?” he growled, slapping his cock against your swollen clit again, harder this time, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “You want to feel me inside this tight little pussy, fuckin’ you like you’ve never been fucked before.”

“Oh, God, yes,” you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders as your body trembled with need. “Fuck me, Joel. I want to feel every inch of you. I want you to ruin me.”

His eyes flashed with pure desire as he tapped his cock against your clit again, the wet head of his cock throbbing as more precum leaked out, mixing with your own arousal.

He dragged his length through your folds, coating himself in your slickness, groaning as he teased you.

“I’m gonna make you scream for me,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll never even think about another man again. You’ll be mine, baby. This pussy will be mine.”

Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you, making you ache for him. Every word he spoke, every filthy promise he made, sent another wave of heat crashing through you, your body desperate for the release only he could give.

“Say it,” Joel demanded, his voice rough as he slid just the tip inside you, stretching you ever so slightly. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Joel,” you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tighter as you felt him start to push inside you. “I’m yours. Please, fuck me. Make me yours.”

With a deep, guttural groan, Joel thrust into you, his cock stretching you wide, filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, your body arching into his as he buried himself deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips as he held you in place.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his voice strained as he began to move, his cock sliding in and out of you in slow, deliberate strokes. “This pussy is mine now, baby. And I’m gonna make you cum so hard, you’ll forget anyone else ever existed.”

Joel’s thrusts were deep and deliberate, each one sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, but the delicious pressure only intensified the raw need coursing between you. His cock filled you so completely, stretching you to the point where you could barely think straight, only able to feel him.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Joel groaned, his voice rough with lust as he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you with a force that made you gasp.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with your ragged moans and the wet, lewd sounds of your pussy taking every inch of him.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice low and rough as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “This is what you’d get with me all the time. Not that half-assed bullshit you’ve been settlin for. You’d get this—my cock fillin’ you up, my hands on your body, making you cum until you can’t even fuckin stand.”

He punctuated his words with rough, powerful thrusts, his cock driving deeper into you with each one. Your head fell back against the wall, your legs trembling as he held you up, completely at his mercy.

“You feel that?” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear as his hips snapped into you again and again. “You deserve this, you deserve to be fucked like this every day. Not treated like you’re worthless.”

Joel’s mouth was everywhere—his lips moving over your neck, nipping at your skin before kissing and licking at the sensitive spot just below your ear.

His tongue flicked out, tasting the salt of your skin, and you moaned, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he fucked you harder, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, his voice thick with praise and hunger. “My perfect little good girl.”

He kissed down your neck, his lips trailing lower until he found your breasts again, groaning as he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. The sensation of his mouth on your sensitive skin, combined with the relentless pace of his hips, had you gasping, your body on the verge of breaking apart with pleasure.

“Fuck, ’could suck these tits all day,” Joel murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing your nipple as he switched to the other breast, sucking and licking, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he fucked you harder.

“So fuckin’ beautiful. You’d get this all the time with me, baby. You’re my good girl, hm?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, your nipples aching under his relentless attention. “I’m your good girl. Please, don’t stop.”

Joel growled, a deep, primal sound that sent a shiver down your spine as he kissed his way back up to your mouth, his lips crashing against yours in a bruising kiss.

His tongue invaded your mouth, hungry and demanding, as he continued to pound into you, each thrust harder than the last, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You whimpered beneath him, your nails digging into his back as he pounded into you, his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you with every thrust.

The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming you, and you could barely form coherent words. All you could do was moan his name, begging for more.

“That’s my good girl,” Joel rasped, his lips trailing down your neck as his hips snapped harder, faster. “You love this, baby? You love havin’ my cock so deep inside you, fuckin’ you the way you deserve. Tell me, baby. Tell me how much you need it.”

“I need it,” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as your head fell back against the wall, your body trembling with pleasure.

“I need you so bad, Joel. I need your cock. I need you to fuck me harder. I love it. Please, Joel, don’t stop.”

“I won’t stop,” he growled, his hands sliding up your body, cupping your breasts again as he continued to thrust into you, his cock hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“I’ll never stop. You’ll never go a day without feelin’ this. Without knowing how fuckin’ perfect you are.”

His lips moved across your face, kissing your cheeks, your jaw, before finding your neck again, sucking and biting at your skin as he pounded into you. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pushed you closer to the brink of release.

His tongue claimed your mouth with the same intensity as his cock claimed your pussy, his hands still worshipping your body as if he couldn’t stop touching you.

“You feel so good,” he growled against your lips, his breath ragged as his hips continued to slam into you.

“This is what I’d do every single day if you were mine. I’d wake you up with my tongue on this perfect pussy, make you cum before breakfast, fuck you until you can’t even think straight.”

You moaned loudly, your body arching into his as his filthy words made your head spin, the pleasure building inside you with every thrust of his cock.

His hand slid down your body, his thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in tight circles as he fucked you, his touch sending sparks through your veins.

“I’m gonna make you cum, babygirl,” Joel whispered, his voice thick with desire as he kissed you again, his tongue dominating yours. “I want you to cum all over my cock like a good girl. Show me how much you love it.”

You whimpered, your body trembling as the pleasure mounted, your mind going blank as Joel’s cock slammed into you harder, deeper. His hand on your clit, his mouth on your neck, his body pressed tightly against yours—it was too much, and you felt yourself spiraling toward release.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice rough as he felt you tighten around him. “Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

With a final, devastating thrust, the coil inside you snapped, and you screamed his name as your orgasm tore through you, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

Your pussy clenched around his cock, milking him as he groaned deeply, his hips never stopping, prolonging your pleasure as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Joel’s hips slowed, but his thrusts remained deep and deliberate, his cock throbbing inside you, the heat of him radiating against your skin. His breath came in hot, ragged bursts against your neck as his hands roamed possessively over your body, caressing every inch of your trembling form.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice thick with need as his hips ground deeper, each thrust making your body arch against him. “You’re fuckin’ perfect. My good girl.”

His words sent another jolt of desire through you, your body still sensitive from your orgasm, but you could feel his need, the tension in his body as he held back. His cock twitched inside you, and you knew he was close—so close.

Joel’s pace slowed slightly, his cock throbbing deep inside you as he hovered over you, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. His hand slid down your side, possessive, as if every inch of your body belonged to him now. He kissed along your jawline, his voice husky, thick with lust and something deeper.

“Where do you want me to cum, baby?” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his cock still twitching inside you.

“Tell me where you want it. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

You felt a rush of heat, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment. Your voice came out shaky, but full of want as you gasped, “Inside, Joel. Please cum inside me.”

A guttural groan escaped his throat, his eyes darkening as he stared at you, the words hitting him like a spark to gasoline.

"God, I’ve been dreamin’ of hearing you say that," he growled, his hips bucking forward again, harder this time. "Pumpin’ you full of my seed. Fuck… the thought of you pregnant with my child?"

“The thought of you, round and swollen with my baby—fuck, sometimes I just cum from imaginin’ it,” he growled, his voice growing more desperate as his thrusts quickened, his cock hitting deep inside you with every movement.

“You’d be so beautiful, so perfect. And you’d be mine—all mine.”

His words sent a shock of pleasure straight through you, the intensity of his dirty talk igniting every nerve in your body. Joel’s hands gripped your hips harder as he thrust deeper, his cock filling you completely with each powerful stroke. His voice was raw, full of desperate hunger as he whispered in your ear.

“Imagine it,” he rasped, his breath hot against your neck, his cock pounding into you relentlessly.

“You, swollen with my baby. I’d make you cum again and again while my child grows inside you. I’d take care of you, worship you… make you feel like the goddess you are.”

The filthy images he painted, combined with the overwhelming sensation of his thick cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy, made your body tremble, your mind reeling with the intensity of it. Your fingers dug into his back as your moans grew louder, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

His pace grew faster, more frantic as he chased his release, the idea of you full of his cum, of you carrying his child, driving him wild. You could feel him getting closer, his grip on your hips tightening as his cock swelled inside you, his thrusts becoming erratic.

“You’d be such a good mother,” he groaned, his voice rough as he buried his face in your neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up, baby. I’m gonna cum so deep inside you. I’m gonna make sure every drop stays inside. ’ gonna be so full of my cum.”

You were lost in him, lost in the way his body felt against yours, the way his words wrapped around you, pulling you deeper into the pleasure.

“Yes, Joel,” you gasped, your voice shaky as your body trembled with anticipation. “Please, cum inside me. I want it so bad.”

“Take it, baby. Take all of it. I’m fillin’ you up. God, you feel so fucking good.”

With a deep, primal growl, Joel’s hips slammed into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside as he came with a force that made his whole body shudder.

He held you tightly, his breath ragged as he groaned your name, his cum spilling inside you, filling you completely.

You could feel every twitch, every hot pulse of his release, the sensation sending you over the edge again, your body convulsing as a second wave of pleasure crashed through you.

His body shook with the force of his release, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged pants as he held you tightly, his cock twitching inside you as he emptied himself.

He stayed like that for a moment, his body pressed tightly against yours, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he caught his breath. His cock still twitched inside you, his cum warm and thick as it filled you completely. His hands caressed your sides, his touch tender and loving despite the roughness of what had just happened.

Joel’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he buried his face in your neck, still trembling with the aftermath of his orgasm. “Fuck… you’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice soft but full of emotion. “’ everything I’ve ever wanted.”

His cock still twitched inside you, the warmth of his cum spreading through your core as he slowly pulled back, pressing soft kisses along your neck, your shoulders.

Joel's breathing was still heavy, his chest pressed against yours as he held you tightly, his cock still buried inside you. He kissed your neck softly, murmuring between deep breaths.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this,” he rasped, his voice low and raw. “You have no idea how long I’ve been savin’ this for you, baby. No one else could ever do it for me. You’re the only one… the only woman I want. I’m full of it, every drop of cum was meant for you.”

His words were tender but possessive, the weight of what he was saying wrapping around you. His hand slid up your side gently, still exploring, as though he couldn’t get enough of touching you. His lips brushed your ear, and his voice took on a pleading tone.

“Please, baby,” he whispered softly, his fingers tightening around your waist. “Leave him. You deserve more. You deserve to be worshipped, loved, the way I’ll love you every single day. You’re mine now. You know that, don’t you?”

You felt your heart pound at the weight of his words, your body still trembling from the intensity of the moment.

As the intensity of the moment began to fade, the weight of Joel's words hung in the air between you. You felt the warmth of his body still pressed against yours, his breath steadying as he held you close, but now, the frantic passion had simmered into something deeper. Something certain.

For the first time in what felt like forever, clarity washed over you. Joel had peeled back all the layers of doubt, of shame, of loneliness, and left you with the undeniable truth—you deserved this. You deserved more.

You shifted slightly in his arms, and he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was soft, no longer driven by raw desire, but by something far more profound. There was a silent question there, one he didn’t have to ask out loud. He had already said it all.

You smiled softly, your fingers tracing over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. You didn’t need to say anything right now. You didn’t need to make promises or decisions this second. But for the first time, you knew. You knew what you wanted, who you wanted.

And Joel knew it too.

“I’ll wait for you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple, the tenderness of the moment grounding you both. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You nodded, feeling lighter than you had in years. You weren’t just his now—you were finally yours.

As the room grew quiet, the weight of your choices settled in, but it wasn’t daunting anymore. It felt like freedom. Like the start of something new.

The beginning of everything you’d been missing.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

[chaotic-mystery]

Code Red | Chapter Eleven: I Only See Daylight

Pairing: No outbreak AU dbf!Joel Miller x f!OC (told in 2nd POV)

Summary: You're back in Texas after going on vacation with Joel and needless to say, shit hits the fan.

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Enemies to lovers, dads best friend Joel, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his forties), slow burn, written in 2nd POV, no use of y/n, broken father/daughter relationship, daddy issues, dd/lg relationship dynamic, serious conversations about kid(s), allusions to sex & taking photos during sex, swearing, mentions of drinking, reader smokes & sometimes Joel, A new song introduced to the universe!, hidden relationship, Joel wanting to fight your dad, the start of everything falling apart. Texts shared between reader & Joel.

Authors Note: Here we are. I know I haven't touched this story since May 14th and I'm not done with them quite yet. I plan to write ahead moving forward so I don't leave anyone on a cliffhanger. This is 100000% not beta'd (I didn't want to burden anybody) so the mistakes are all moi. There's little eggs hidden of when this was written and I hope you giggle when you catch them. Thank you if you're still reading their story, I don't plan on leaving again <3

|| wc: 4.8K || divider by @/anitalenia || previous chapter || series masterlist || main masterlist ||

It had been a few days since that night Sharon came by and woke you up at two in the morning, sticking her nose in your business about Joel. 

She was only worried about your dad finding out and how he would react, she said she didn’t tell your mom and nothing seemed different when you went over to her house to drive into town to shop, but it was eating away at you if she was actually putting on a show just like you had been. 

Sharon warned you to be safe and reminded you she was there if you needed anything but the way she was going about this worried you. She failed to mention how you should break it to  Sarah and you hadn’t even begun to think about how to have that conversation with her. Do you just…show up on the porch one day and tell her you’ve been seeing her dad for almost the past year?

 Scratch that, that’s a terrible idea. It was a conversation to be had with Joel and the last thing you wanted was to feel like you were replacing her as the number one woman in his life. All you ever dealt with as a kid was your dads girlfriends making it feel like a competition for who he loved the most and unfortunately you were never a first place winner. 

“Honey? Do you like this?” Your mom’s voice becomes clearer as you’re once again yanked from the seat inside your thoughts to the present time. 

The bright green hoodie she was holding up was so bright you damn near needed sunglasses just to lay eyes on it. Every muscle in your face fights to make a disgusted look but knowing your mom would be upset, you keep a straight face and quickly scan the metal racks surrounding you for a different option to counter it. Like a magnet, the pink hoodie with chunky writing on the back nearly jumps off the hanger and into your arms. 

“I think this one is a little more me, you think?” 

She nods her head and takes it from you, throwing it over her bent arm in front of her body. She told you to pick out something from the souvenir shop and she’d pay for it, also meaning to find something for Joel. What could he possibly want from here? He wasn’t really a hoodie kind of guy, especially not down in Texas when he was outside practically all the time. He had more than enough trucker hats to last him the rest of his life. 

“So tell me more about Joel, sweetheart, what’s his normal life like?” 

“Well, he’s my boss but that happened after we started dating. Umm, I mean he’s my neighbor which was also before we started dating, promise I didn’t move closer to him just because we’re together.”

Your mom nods with a small smile, her face relaxing as you soothe her mind in knowing she taught you well not to move so fast with someone you hardly know.

“He um, he’s got a kid..” you scratch your head and spin around to look at the clothes behind you, her eyes burning into the back of your skull. “..it’s really not that big of a deal, I don’t think. I haven’t really met her yet. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to replace her mom or take her dad from her.” The quiver in your voice surprises you both and your mom spins you back around, rubbing your arm caringly. 

You were terrified, truthfully. Telling Sarah about your relationship scared the shit out of you. Even thinking about Joel asking you to be responsible with Sarah scared the life from you. 

“Mommy, I’m so scared. What if she doesn’t like me and he breaks up with me? I mean, I wouldn’t want him to stay with me if she’s unhappy about it. I just…I love him.” Your voice was just above a whisper and the words felt as if they were slicing your throat on the way out. 

She says nothing as her lips pursed together into a frown and pulls you into her arms, hugging you tightly. Once more you felt like a little girl needing the comfort of your mother when things got tough. 

“You’ll be okay, I know it. Listen to me-” her hands grip your face to keep eye contact with you before she continues. “-you know better than anyone what that feels like and you’d do anything to protect that little girl, even if that means not seeing him anymore. You don’t have it in you to be that cruel. Just be yourself and she’ll see how happy you make him.”

Hearing testaments about your character always made you feel weird inside. It was never easy hearing how other people see you, especially when it’s positive. You look at her and she smiles assuringly before kissing the top of your forehead.

“Come on, let’s find something for Sarah.”

_

Holding onto the little beaded keychain in your hand, your mom pulls up to the quaint cabin you unfortunately had to say goodbye to tomorrow and she rubs your arm softly. 

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. Just be honest with him about your feelings with this. It’s all valid.” 

You breathe in deeply and release the air out of your mouth, nodding at her. 

“I’ll be fine, I just need to go see him. I love you, I’ll stop by on the way to the airport.” 

You hated goodbyes. So it wasn’t saying goodbye to her, it was just telling her you’d see her later. You kiss her cheek and grab your bag of goodies from between your legs on the floor before getting out, standing out of the way so she could pull off. Jiggling the plastic bag in your hand nervously, you dig around in your purse until you feel the smooth carton of cigarettes and lighter clanking around inside.

The gray flint rubs against the pad of your thumb as you ignite the cigarette held between your lips, walking up to the small wooden porch to sit in the white rocking chair under the window. Too many thoughts about Sarah and all the ways she could react flood your thoughts again as you take a big drag to erase it all. Joel pushes the screen door open just enough to slip through and he nudges your knee gently. 

“Hungry? Made BLT sandwiches if you want one.” Joel presses a kiss to your cheek before taking the cigarette from between your fingers and taking a drag. 

“Tempting, maybe. I got you something from town, though!” You try to make it seem like you weren’t bothered by anything but he could read you like a goddamn book.

You were his favorite one.

His eyes fell to the bright blue shirt you were pulling out of the plastic bag, chuckling to himself before he even got to see the design. You finally get it out and flip it towards him so Joel could see what you picked out for him. 

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me. This is awesome.” 

Joel’s fingers trace over the goofy design of the state drawn as an old fashioned cartoon with feet holding it up and bright yellow letters across the top. He stares at the piece of clothing for longer than normal, continuously rubbing over the painted letters. The thought of you buying it for him, spending the time to find something he would wear, it meant a lot to him and it was written all over his face. 

“Thank you, baby. I love it.”

Joel sets it in the chair next to you and places both hands on either side of your chair, leaning down until he’s eye level with you. 

“My pretty girl, what’re you thinkin’ about in here?” As he finishes saying his sentence he bumps his forehead into yours, resting them together comfortably. 

Joel turns his face to the side for a moment to take another drag of the shared cigarette and he blows the smoke quickly to return back in position. Your eyes close as you relax against his touch, the slight breeze rustling against the trees and drowning out the sound of your mind screaming at you. The dooming thoughts of Sarah knowing about this could wait, you were here with the man of your dreams, having the time of your life and it was the last night before you had to unfortunately return to Texas and go back to hiding something you were so proud of. 

“I just wish we could run away somewhere where we don't have to hide our relationship. Where I can walk into the grocery store with you and not worry about still holding your hand, wondering if someone who knows my dad is gonna turn the corner and see it. I just- I want to love you loudly like you deserve. You aren’t meant to be a secret.”

Joel’s right hand rests on your crossed leg, rubbing your calf to ease you. 

“I’ll give you everything you could ever want and more, I swear it. How much time do I have to give it to you, though?” 

“I’ve got enough time for you, Miller. Not too long though, I’m not a patient person, ya know.” 

The thought of waiting an eternity for Joel Miller didn’t sound so bad, at least not to you. 

Every now and then you would get this feeling in your stomach thinking about Joel and how much you really did care for him and love him. It wasn’t a feeling you could quite pinpoint. The depth of sadness would overcome you just at the idea of losing him, knowing one day his footsteps wouldn’t grace this earth anymore. It was always sitting in the back of your mind, poking at you to love whatever time you got with him, because one day there wasn’t going to be this. 

“I love you, you know that?” Joel asks and kisses your lips before you can answer. 

The kiss quickly turns passionate and he backs up with your lips still glued to his, your body carrying you with every step he takes into the house. Joel leads you to the bedroom and tosses you on the bed lovingly, admiring the way your beautiful eyes glowed in the golden ray of sunlight seeping through the flowy curtains. 

“Let’s enjoy our last night here, yeah?” 

You grab your camera from the pocket of your sundress and grin at Joel, the gears turning inside his mind as he catches on. 

“To our last night.” 

_

Running on a few hours of sleep and the coffee not doing its job in your body, you yawn again as your Uber pulls up to your moms house. This was the part you were dreading the most, seeing your mom torn up that you’re leaving again. 

“Cmon, Mom, I gotta get going!” The fake happy tone was so apparent but it was easier to keep her up in good spirits if you pretended to be okay. 

Your mom comes around the corner from the kitchen, her hand towel tossed over her shoulder as she always did when she was doing dishes. She wipes her hands dry and hugs you so tight it feels like your eyes are going to pop out. 

“I love you so much, mommy. I’ll call you when I get back to Texas and I’m home safe, I swear it.” Fuck, and just like that, the quiver in your voice makes you start to break and before you can collect yourself, tears slipping from your eyes.

“I love you more, my baby. Have a safe flight, okay? Who knows, maybe I’ll come see you for the holidays in a few months.” She laughs to keep herself from crying but it only goes so far before you can feel her body jolt with every sob. 

The tight grip of her arms around your neck makes you giggle between your tears and she squeezes you once more before letting you go, standing up straight to get a good look at you before letting you leave her again and go spread your wings back to your home. 

“Come on, you’ve got a plane to catch!” 

You take her hand in yours and walk to your Uber, Joel getting out immediately to give her a hug goodbye. As you circle around the back of the car to get inside, you can’t help but notice Joel and your mom having some sort of quiet conversation you weren’t privy to. Swallowing dryly and wanting so bad to know what they were talking about, you climbed into the backseat of the car to give them privacy. Though it bothered you enough to dig your fingernail into the side of your thumb, you knew deep down it wasn’t anything bad they were sharing back and forth. 

Joel opens the door before finishing his goodbye to your mom. 

“Bye, we’ll see you soon!” He grins and gets inside the car, buckling up before waving to her as your driver starts to pull off. There was no shot in hell you could look at her as you drove away, not if you wanted to get to the airport with minimal tears.

Joel intertwined his fingers in yours and kisses the top of your hand to console you, take your mind off the fact you just left your mom again. 

It felt different this time, leaving her house. When you first left almost a year ago, you were beside yourself and so confused about what to do with your life, thinking you’d be making the right choice to chase your dad for one last shot at something with him, anything.

But, here you were now, hand in hand with the asshole you didn’t mean to fall for, crying over the two weeks you spent with him and your mom, watching him get to know her and love her the way you do. 

“Here, take this.” Joel holds out his wired headphone and you place it in your right ear, waiting to hear the music start.

All of the anxiety, love, fearfulness, joy, everything starts to mix together as the lyrics come over the stringed instrument.

Woah, my love, my darling

I've hungered for your touch

A long, lonely time

And time goes by so slowly

And time can do so much

Your tears well in your eyes until you can feel them about to fall, causing you to turn your head to look out the window, not wanting Joel to know you were crying. 

You had to give it to him though, playing the Righteous Brothers was such a Joel move and yet, you never saw it coming. 

Your heartbeat speeds up and it’s like you could feel the blood coursing your veins, the impending doom of not knowing how anything was going to be once you returned to Texas was going to send your body into overdrive. 

-

It was close to seven by the time you and Joel got back home, the streetlights glowing that familiar orange light at the beginning of your block as the sun started to go down behind the trees ahead of you. His hand rests comfortably on your thigh, rubbing slow circles into the fabric of your sweatpants as you two softly sing along to the radio playing a song from Queen, another fitting song for the moment. 

Under Pressure. 

As Joel’s pulling in front of your houses, the sheer panic of seeing your dads vehicle in Joel’s driveway sends your anxiety through the roof, your legs instantly unfolding from the passenger seat to sit straight up, trying to make it not look like what it was. 

“Did you know he was going to be here? What the fuck is he doing here?” 

“Uhhh, I don’t know why he’s here, baby. Just stay calm, okay? I got this.” Joel winks at you and turns the truck off, getting out to see what your dad wants. You sit there for a moment and contemplate sitting still until he leaves but who knows how long that would be. Swallowing harshly, you get out and stretch before you make your way to where your dad and Joel were standing at the end of the driveway. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Where’ve you been?” 

“Michigan, I went to go see mom” you say bluntly as you take your suitcases out of Joel’s truck in a bit of a rush, trying not to let Joel’s bags be seen. Your dad takes a puff of his cigarette and you can hear the snicker from him as a response to your business in Michigan. 

“And Joel came to get you? What did you bribe him with?” The dig at the both of you causes your brows to knit together in confusion at what he was trying to get at. 

“She didn’t bribe me with anything, asshat. She’s a good girl, she just couldn’t get a reliable friend to come get her, that’s all.” 

What your dad couldn’t see was Joel’s fist behind his back, opening and closing slowly to to calm himself down and not stick your dad right in his mouth for speaking about you that way. One day he would make him see you as a person and not some doormat he can walk all over, but it wasn’t going to happen today. Joel was too exhausted and worn out to be arrested.  

Your dad’s face changes when Joel sticks up for you and he clears his throat before flicking his cigarette butt into the street and tucking his beefy hands in his front pockets. 

“I know, I’m just messin’.”

“Well, um…thanks for coming to get me Joel. I appreciate it.” You hold out your hand for a handshake just to see if he takes the bait. The corner of his mouth turns up just enough for you to notice and falls back into place as he holds out his hand, shaking yours firmly. 

He takes one last glance at you before you take your bags and walk to your house, your face warm to the touch with the mixture of embarrassment and the need to walk right back up to him and kiss him the exact way you had been in public for the last two weeks. 

But you couldn’t. 

He wasn’t yours until he wanted to go public. 

Once you get inside and drop the bags off your shoulders to the floor, you tug your phone out of the pocket on your purse. 

8:11 PM [you]: I Miss you :( Come over when he’s gone?

8:24 PM [Joel]: I miss you too sweetheart. He just needs some tools, guess he’s setting up for a pool party tomorrow? Leave your bedroom lamp on if you want me to come by when he’s done. 

8:30 PM [you]: Oh? Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get an invite from him ;)

8:31 PM [you]: Aye aye, sir. 

You set your phone down on the counter before you drag the luggage bags upstairs to the dimly lit bedroom you’ve missed so dearly. The piles of clothes you left on the floor pad your footsteps as you try to find the lightswitch on the wall, lighting up the room to see just how disastrous you left it. 

It needed a good clean and it was on your agenda for tomorrow, for now you’re too tired to do anything besides rot on your couch and get caught up on Love Island, seeing how you missed the first couple of episodes while you were away. 

Rubbing the back of your neck while you scan the room, the sadness starts to settle in that you miss Joel. 

You were independent, sure, but being so close the past two weeks without having to hide with stolen glances and tender brushes of your hands behind the backs of everyone was really starting to get to you. 

Why did he have to be your dad’s best friend?

-

The TV drowned out your thoughts long enough to cause you to fall asleep on the living room sofa, attempting to wait for Joel to return. You reach down and grab your phone off the floor that had fallen a little while ago, opening it up to the text thread between you and Joel. 

8:30 PM [you]: Oh? Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get an invite ;)

9:02 PM [you]: Are you almost done? I wanna cuddle.

9:44 PM [you]: You’re missing a really good episode of Love Island. Remind me to get you a pair of overalls. 

The last message you sent was a half hour ago and still response. You get up and walk into your kitchen, peeking out the window that faced Joel’s house. The lights downstairs were on, that was the most you could see. No shadows, nothing. Wondering where they were, you put on your shoes and walk out to your car, clutching the throw blanket draped over your shoulders as if it were a cape.

You just came outside to grab something from your car, at least that was the story you were sticking with if you got busted by anyone. Opening the driver's side door and looking around, you see Joel’s garage door open and the two of them sitting in lawn chairs in the middle of the room, a few beer cans at Joel’s feet. So this is where he’s been the last two hours? 

You grab a tube of lip balm from the cup holder and close the door firmly, going back inside the house before you were spotted. With your back against the front door, you slide off your shoes and contemplate leaving the door unlocked for him. He didn’t have a key and you wanted him to spend the night, but he’d be more upset if you left it unlocked and fell asleep. 

Grabbing the deadbolt latch and locking the door, you sigh and walk back to the living room to pick up the mess you made. You fold the blanket back up and lay it across the back of the couch, grab your phone, and start making your way upstairs again. 

Sleep. You wanted to sleep. 

The glow from your lamp in the corner by the window illuminated just enough to let you see a clear path to your bed. Stopping to dig out your camera from your bag, you grab it and walk over to your bed. The wind blows in your window and causes the lace curtain to touch your leg, making you turn around to look outside once more before turning off the lamp and crawling into your bed. 

You turn on your camera and look through the last two weeks of your life and the creeping melancholia comes over you. Photos of Joel in the ice cream parlor, the two of you playing cards with your mom, little moments you’ll have forever. He hated being in photos when you first met him, now he couldn’t resist smiling as big as he could when your camera was out. 

It was a little past ten when you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand behind you. Too tired to answer it or to even move, you settle down into your bed further until you fall asleep.

10:21 PM [Joel]: I’m sorry sweetheart. Didn’t know he’d be over that long. Sweet dreams. Proud you locked the front door. Love you. 

The message was the second thing you woke up to this morning. The first thing was Joel on your front porch with a bag from the grocery store with breakfast ingredients inside. He kissed your cheek after making his way to the kitchen. Hours after he made you two breakfast, you got dressed for the day. 

“Forgot to tell you, I did get invited to your dads pool party. He said he’d text you about it.” 

Joel wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you against him gently while you adjust your necklace. His chin rests in the crook of your neck and looks at you through the mirror in front of you. 

“He won’t. I could just show up and crash the party though.” 

“It would make it so much better, I’ll tell you that right now, baby. We should probably go separately though. Best we lay low for a while.”

Lay low for a while. Right. 

Joel turns you around and cups your face. “Don’t give me that look, that’s not fair.” 

You stop pouting and groan loudly before putting your forehead on his chest. Joel kisses your head and stands you straight up, kissing your cheeks until you smile. You kiss his lips passionately and stand still as he starts to make his exit. 

“No pouting today. It’s a pout free day. Let’s get rollin’ baby. I love you, I’ll see you there okay?” 

Joel taps the door frame as you nod and he grins, walking downstairs and you don’t move until you hear the front door close. 

-

The music booms out of the speakers in your dads backyard and it overpowers your car radio as you pull into the driveway, parked right next to Joel’s truck. 

You walk in the front door and head to the kitchen where you hear voices echoing off the walls. A few of your dad’s colleagues stand there chatting away with small plates of finger food in their hands, colorful solo cups scattered along the countertop with various types of drinks. 

The kitchen looked amazing. You hadn’t seen it completed since Joel finished working on it. He was damn good at his job and you felt so proud of him, even if I was unfortunately at your dads house. 

“Look what the cat dragged in!” The hair on your arms raises at the annoying tone of Janet. 

“Kitchen looks nice, sure hope you paid him well” you snark back, a little cattier than you anticipated. 

She smiles sarcastically and walks towards the room behind you. Joel strolls in with your dad in tow, tugging on Joel’s white t-shirt as they laugh and you can barely make out what they’re talking about. 

“What’s up, kiddo?” Joel asks as he leans his hip against the counter and pours a drink for himself. 

You try to avoid looking him in the eyes as best as you can but you only last a few seconds. Right on cue Joel has that grin on his face, the one you only see when he’s with you. The one that holds back so many things he wishes to say. 

Janet walks back to the side of your dad like the good pet she prides herself to be, Joel standing next to you, not nearly as close as you’d like. 

“So, your dad tells me you went to Michigan? How’d you get so much time off already when you just started working?” Janet smirks and hides it with her cup, narrowing her eyes onto you. 

You ready up a loaded answer when Joel starts speaking before you. 

“I gave her the time off, no questions asked. I knew she missed her mom and felt she’d be more energized at work if she got some time from here. She does good work for me.” Dad and Janet couldn’t register his tone like you could. They were far too out of touch to see he was talking to them as if they were children. A subtle tone change was enough for you to notice his feelings on the question Janet had no business asking. 

“I stopped by your office the other day to give you the final check and Tommy said you were out of town?” 

Joel doesn’t shift his body once.

“Yeah, went to go get some wood out northeast.” His fake smile was enough to shut her up for now. It’s dancing too close for comfort and only she seems to notice the damning timelines. Your dad wasn’t putting the pieces fast enough like Janet was. 

“Can someone show me where the coolers are? I need a drink” you ask awkwardly, trying to remove yourself from this clusterfuck. 

Joel steps backwards and motions for you to go ahead in front of him. You set your bag down in the barstool right by the counter and walk outside trying to shake every bit of that conversation off of you. 

The lights were getting brighter as the sun continued to set, people mingling with you and Joel, talking about whatever. It was nice to hear other people’s life stories and how shitty their day-to-day life was. 

Janet comes out and makes a b-line towards you, your pink camera in her grubby hand. 

“You wanna explain this?” She asks in that smartass tone she always uses when she knows something you don’t. As she tosses the device to you, it lands screen faced up and on a photo of you and Joel on the beach your mom took. 

So much for laying low.

[almostempty]

Something in your mouth

(joel miller x f!reader)

The third installment of  Never made it as a wise man aka creed!joel

WC: 8.4k | Part 1 | Part 2 |  Other fics | Rating: 18+ 

Summary: post hand job and phone sex; it’s the leadup and part 1 of these horny bishes goin’ on a date

Note: heyyyyy it’s me and i’m back on my bs . i know i promised the fuckening, but that was summer me and now it’s winter me.. so instead of hiding and never updating, i remembered i have free will so u get the full week lead-up and the first half of the date.. and then i’ll brb with the fuckfest okay? i promise. (also it’s actually almost done this time so it won’t take months). again, i am still merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. hopefully this part 3 is girthy enough to sate your appetite a lil bit  

Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where pt 2 ended, alternating pov, dirty talk, horny yearning, blowjob in the truck, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc, mistakes are all mine

Thanks to Nickelback for having non stop horny bangerz to quote such as Something in your mouth

major thanks to @hoelaris for this moodboard that made me weep tears of joy bc is it so perfect

thanks to @magneticecstasy for date joel thots to be ft in this pt and the next, @auteurdelabre for telling me to let them have their happy ending so i can get back to the paris boys faster, to @syd-djarin for support, horny thots, song suggestions etc, and @itwasntimethatdidit40 for the nickelback pedro tiktok edit inspo

it really takes a village or whatever they say <3 

*if u forgot what this is bc i took so long give Part 1 and  Part 2 a read for a refresh <3 

*if i missed ur tag or u want off this ride lemme know 

okay, it's starting now:

You wake up in Joel’s shirt. It smells more like you than him already, but it still makes you grin devilishly just the same. You go about your day, a few errands and some chores, the whole time with a little more energy than usual. 

When you’re back home and settled in to have a lazy afternoon, you get a little restless. Itchy fingers. It’s hard not to pick up your phone and check your messages again and again. You’re drawn to looking at the picture he sent, the pictures you took, and you can’t help wondering…

Did he wake up thinking of you? Hard, aching, and leaking at the memory of your voice. 

Did he dream of all the nasty things he said he wanted to do to you? Waking up throbbing and frustrated, grinding his cock into the mattress as if you were beneath him. 

Did he wake up and check his phone to confirm you were real? Making it all the way to the shower before surrendering, wishing it was your soft cunt he was fucking instead of his fist. 

You know you’re fucked when just thinking about him thinking about you has you so turned on. It’s so tempting to send him something else. Another picture? An audio message? A thinking of you 😘 text? 

No. No, no, no. 

You can wait him out. Make him work for it a little. He’s a full-grown man. You’ve already given him enough to work with. Plus, you wanna know what he’s gonna come up with next. Right? 

The lazy Sunday ends all too soon and before you know it you’re back to work. Dragging ass into the office with the biggest iced coffee you could buy. You deserve a treat to get through your Monday anyway. 

A little warning bell chimes in the back of your mind as you drop your things on your desk. Ellie grumbles a good morning that matches your enthusiasm for fluorescent lights at 8 am. A little seed of guilt sprouts within you. 

Is it fucked up of you to mess around with Joel? It’s not like it’s something serious. Or, does that make it even worse? There’s no way he would say anything to her about it. 

“Heard you saw Joel again,” she says before you’ve even sat down. Great. 

“Uh, yeah,” you reply, “Still didn’t feel right that he wouldn’t accept anything for helping with my car.” You sink into your chair, hesitating to say more. It’s too early to have a good poker face. 

“So you made him a lasagna?” She questions, staring you down. 

“Men love my meat sauce,” you say with a shrug. 

“Gross,” Ellie grimaces at that, “please, don’t ever say that again.” 

You buy her off with the rest of the cookies you had baked. She’s happy to take the entire container from you and happier to enjoy them all immediately. If she’s suspicious she’s either good at hiding it or you really don’t know how to read her. 

You carry on with your morning catching up on mindless tasks, swirling your coffee around as the ice starts to melt, and trying to stay focused. Ellie turns on her music and you can’t help thinking of Joel again. It’s like he’s infected your mind and every shitty 2000s post-grunge alt-rock song conjures him up. 

You can’t help wondering what exactly he would’ve told Ellie about your surprise visit. Would he have asked about you? Implied anything? You can’t stop yourself from asking. 

“What did he say?” 

Ellie’s head swivels towards you immediately. 

“Who?” 

Instantly you know you messed up. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You shouldn’t still be thinking of him. She prods you about what you said and what you meant. Not accepting a nothing or a never mind. An uncomfortable wave of embarrassment twists in your stomach, heat blooms in your cheeks, and your hands are fidgety. 

You shouldn’t have brought it up, you shouldn't be so defensive. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.  

Ellie is sharp–cutthroat–reading your every move. You stare at the empty Tupperware on her desk, hoping it will reveal some sort of escape plan. A strategy to deflect. It’s too late. Her eyes narrow just the slightest bit and she follows your gaze. It clicks. 

“Oh, you meant Joel?” 

You’re so busted. “I..uh,” you don’t know how to finish that thought. 

“Why?” She gives you such a blank-faced look that it’s unsettling. You’re an adult. Why does this feel like you got caught sneaking out to see a boy on a school night?

You try to brush it off, but it sounds more defensive, making it worse. You focus on cracking your knuckles and trying to feign a more casual air. For some reason that means you keep talking. Broken sentences pouring out of you and trailing off into a stiff laugh. 

Mercifully, Ellie cuts you off. Tells you it was Tommy who mentioned it. 

So, he was the one who showed up while you had your legs spread open on Joel’s kitchen counter. The catalyst to your shirt heist and hasty getaway. That makes your face hot for a different reason. 

“Oh. Gross.” Ellie groans.

“What?” 

“You’ve got that look on your face.” 

You snort at that. Only slightly horrified that she’s so adept at picking up the tells on your face. “What look?” 

You suck down the last of your iced coffee, stalling, until you’re just sucking in air. You toss it in the tiny trash bin between the two of you and decide to be honest no matter what she says. You’d rather get ahead of it. 

“Was it a sex lasagna?” Her mouth is pulled into a look of disgust. 

You snort at that before shaking your head, preparing to get it all out. 

“Okay, look. It was a thank-you lasagna.” You pause, trying to figure out exactly how much to share. “I didn’t plan the rest of it. It just…happened. And, fuck, it was so hot.” 

Her face wrinkles with confusion, then disgust, then laughter. It makes your heart rate speed up. 

“I’m sorry,” your words come out like a waterfall. “I don’t want to make things weird. I want us to be friends. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sure it wasn’t serious. I’ll tell you whatever you want. It was my fault. I showed up without letting him know. I made the first move—” 

“You fold quick,” Ellie notes, interrupting you. She throws her hands up and you shut your mouth, “Look, you’re both adults, I don’t care what you do. Just, please, don’t tell me any of the sex details.” 

“Do you really not care? Or like, you say I don’t care and then treat me like Cheryl in the front office?” you ask. 

“No. I genuinely don’t give a shit. Well, I mean, if you break his heart I’ll have to kill you.”

“Naturally,” you agree with a solemn nod. 

“But,” she pauses to take a breath, tilting her head before continuing, “it would probably be good for him, don’t think he’s had a real date in a while. But don’t come back to me broken-hearted if he’s a dick—that’s just his face.”

“A date?” you echo. 

She groans and rolls her eyes at you, but it’s too late. 

Your mind starts to wander. With Ellie’s blessing, you don’t have a reason not to give it a shot.

The harps are already strumming as you float off into your cloud of dissociation. Your favorite daydream flickers into focus as your eyes glaze over and a dazed grin curls on your face. It’s always that same slo-mo Baywatch-style memory. That one where you caught Joel wiping the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his t-shirt. The original temptation that led you back to him. 

Somehow, every time it replays, there’s a new easter egg just for you. The ghost of a knowing smirk or a sparkly-eyed wink when he catches your eye, like a wicked little tease to pull you deeper into the dream world. 

Sometimes it’s all too visceral. In the privacy of your mind, you’re free to direct the scene how you’d like. Slowly panning over the peek of soft skin and the trail of hair you can see. You can still feel the warmth on your fingertips from when you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of those navy blue boxers. 

Sometimes, you create something new. You’d like to take one of his sun-faded plastic green lawn chairs, drag it to the front porch, and sit yourself down for a show. You wanna watch him mow the grass in the evening heat. 

You can see the sweat beads dotted along his neck and the contour of his marble-sculpted arms as he serpentines along your fantasy world front lawn. 

You can smell the fresh-cut grass and the specific blend of sweaty man pheromones that Aphrodite concocted just for you. 

Your chest swells, lungs expanding, as you breathe slowly and deeply. The illusory scents fill your lungs until you release a deep, yearnful sigh. The imaginary lawn mower almost drowns out the imaginary Fred Durst bellering, It’s just one of those days, from that little stereo on the workbench. 

Before you can transition into another scenario—something bounces off your face, and you flinch with a loud yelp. 

“That was your warning,” Ellie glares at you. “Next time I’m throwing something sharp.” 

“Okay, okay, message received.” You offer a sheepish smile, and she turns around. It seems the Limp Bizkit song was very much not a figment of your imagination. Ellie mutters along to the lyrics behind you, barely audible, as you spin in your chair to get back to work. 

It’s not even five minutes later when you swivel in your chair again with another question for Ellie. 

There’s nothing like having a crush on a man you barely know to truly make you delusional. You know you’ve got it bad, but it’s unfortunately just so much fun to daydream and let your mind run wild with the very limited info you know about the man. 

You don’t want to worry about anything that could go wrong. 

Except for, well, everything. 

You still fret over texting him first or waiting. Should you send another picture with no context? Should you call? Should you wait another day? 

When you notice your chest feeling tight you give yourself a reality check. It’s Monday morning. You’re at work. He’s probably at work. You can figure it out later. A future you problem. 

Joel’s text comes through late in the evening. 

Joel: You wearing my shirt to bed again? 

You’re grinning immediately. At hearing from him first and because he fucking clocked you. You snap a quick photo. Despite being on the spot, it’s thoughtfully crafted. Just enough to show the logo and only your mouth, not your face, no extra skin, no sexy tease. Just a confirmation. You send it off, and his reply buzzes seconds later. 

Joel: More 

You try to bite back the grin still stuck on your face as your fingers dance across the screen. You want to tell him off for being so blunt, but for some reason, it feels like such a compliment. You’ve definitely got it bad if a thirsty one-word text feels like high praise. 

You aren’t going to give in this time. You’ve still got Ellie’s words echoing in your mind. A date. You type back one line. 

You: Gonna have to earn it if you want more 

Your phone rings shortly after your message is delivered. Joel’s name flashes on the screen and your stomach flips. You thought maybe he’d send another dick pic, but now he’s calling you? It does check out that he wouldn’t be the texting type, to be fair.

“Hey,” you answer, voice soft, a little tentative. 

“You’re gonna make me work for it, huh?” His drawl is low, rough around the edges and so stupidly sexy it makes your nipples hard. You can just tell he’s already on edge. Delight floods your veins at the idea of him thinking of you all day. 

“You could use a lesson in patience,” your voice is remarkably steady, despite the way your body is lit up. You chew at your lower lip. “Thought I told you that last time we were on the phone,” you chide. 

A deep chuckle rumbles through the phone. “Patience,” he repeats. There’s a pause that has you holding your breath. “I don’t think you’re playin’ fair, baby. Knowing you’re in bed with my shirt on, teasin’ me with another picture.” His voice takes on a husky, knowing tone. “Don’t think it’s patience you’re lookin’ for. Bet I know what you really want.” 

Your breath catches, loud enough he wouldn’t miss it even with his busted phone. You weren’t prepared to be so affected by just the timbre of his voice. It’s fucked up the way he’s got you breathless for no damn good reason. 

You can picture him in his bed. The trademark navy blue sheets. Is he fresh out of the shower? Damp hair and the overpowering scent of whatever 10 in 1 man soap was on sale at the grocery store— 

“Okay. Enlighten me then. What do I want?” you finally reply. 

“You want to hear it,” he continues, smooth and smug, radiating a cocky smirk right through the phone that makes your skin tingle. “You want to hear how you’ve got me hard, sittin’ here thinkin’ about you,” Joel growls, his voice thick with heat. “Thinkin’ about you wearing just my shirt.”

You bite down on your lip to stay quiet. Maybe he’s not in bed at all. Maybe he’s still out in his shop, locked in the office, a couple beers down before he dared to text you. His hair a mess from running his fingers through it, in those faded jeans that cling to him perfectly. 

Either way, it seems almost cruel to stop him with a mouth like that. 

“Thinking about what I’d do if you were here,” he carries on. “You look good in my shirt.” His voice drops even lower. “You’d let me push it up though, wouldn’t you? Just enough so I can see how wet you are for me.” 

You can’t help pressing your thighs together at that thought. If he hears how turned on you are already, you’re definitely going to end up acting out his fantasy over the phone. 

“Fuck.” he mutters, his voice breaking. “You’d let me take my time. Get my hands on those perfect tits again. Soak my fingers with that sweet pussy. Have you so worked up you’d be begging for my cock.” 

He says it like it’s a fact, as if he could come over right now and you’d drag him straight to your bed—or no, like you’d be on him before he could shut the front door. 

It’s so filthy, so confident. You’re so tempted to keep him going, but you pull yourself together. Biting back the whimper stuck in your throat.  

“Well, damn, Joel,” you swallow down the urge to ask for more details. “Guess you’ve got me all figured out then,” you tease with a heavy dash of sarcasm in your tone. 

“Not all of you,” he replies, with a suggestive edge. “Not yet.”

You let out a breath you were holding. “Look, you can’t just get your dick out on the phone, tell me how you wanna touch me, and get your way,” you manage, steady and a little sharp. “Not this time.”

“Not this time?” he echoes, half-laughing, clearly amused. “Alright. Sure. What do you want then?”

There’s a flicker of nervousness that tightens in your chest. You don’t want him to think you’re rejecting him, don’t want to risk losing the momentum of whatever this is. “I’m saying…I do want you. But, if you want more you’re going to have to do more. Show me you mean it. Like…a date.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, and your heart skips as you imagine his reaction. He’s quiet, but you can hear his breathing—measured, like he’s weighing something.

“Shit. You’re serious?” he asks, and there’s a softness now, laced with just enough curiosity to make you think he’s intrigued.

“Dead serious,” you say, adding, “But if you’re not interested in me like that—”

“Oh, I’m interested.” The words come quick, a little sharper than you expect, and they make you beam. “Fine. A date,” he says, like he’s letting the word settle on his tongue. “Friday?”

“Friday.” You confirm and stretch your neck. Your muscles are tense. Shoulders tight. All from his filthy words getting you worked up in half a second and the anxiety of your demand. “Come up with something good,” you tease, your voice slipping into something sultrier, “and maybe we’ll both get what we want.”

There’s a low growl on the other end of the line, tinged with frustration and desire. It makes your pulse throb in your clit. You almost wish you had let him talk you through it before suggesting the date. Hear how worked up he’s been over you. 

“Jesus,” he grumbles. 

Oh, you would’ve turned into a mess and completely forgotten to bring it up. Now you’ve essentially cock blocked yourself until the end of the week. Ugh. 

“You’re gonna drive me mad.” He says. But there’s no animosity in it. Instead, there’s something new in his voice that gives you butterflies. 

“Yep.” 

You’re the one who hangs up first before you can hear anything else that might tempt you to stray from your plan.

……..

It’s late morning when your phone buzzes on your desk the next day, interrupting your excellent cosplay of a ‘productive employee’. You glance at the screen and your heart trips when you see Joel’s name. 

You answer, trying to sound casual despite the fluttery feeling in your chest. “Calling me during business hours, Mr. Miller? You’re going to get me in trouble.” 

Joel snorts softly. “Think we both know you’re the one that likes cousin’ trouble.” 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” 

His voice drops lower, quieter. “You need a reminder? Cause I’ve been replaying exactly how much trouble you caused in my kitchen…”

“Don’t.” You nearly hiss into the phone, trying to cut him off before he starts with any graphic retellings. You spin in your chair, grateful when you confirm Ellie has headphones on for once. 

“Right.” His voice is back to a slightly less devastatingly erotic tone. “Wouldn’t want to get carried away while you’re at work. 

“Well,” he drawls, the grin evident in his voice now. “You said you wanted a date, so I was thinking.”

You hum, leaning into the teasing tone. “If it’s a chain restaurant I’m canceling right now.”

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who’d take you to Applebee’s?”

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” you quip, laughing at the soft groan he makes in response. “No Applebee’s, no Chili’s, and if you’re thinking about taking me to whatever the fanciest Italian place is in this town, don’t. I’m not going on a first date where you used to take your ex-wife for anniversary dinners.” 

There’s a beat of silence, then a grumbled, “It was Valentine’s, actually.”

You cackle, delighted at your guess. He huffs. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re predictable,” you shoot back, grinning as you cross your legs under your desk. “Or maybe it’s just ‘cause nobody has been challenging you.”

“S’that what you are?” he asks, “A challenge?” 

You shift in your chair, the grin on your face is going to make your cheeks burn if he keeps this up. You soften the teasing as you admit. “Maybe a little.” 

“Mm,” he grunts, clearly not convinced.

“If you’re up for it,” you add. Nerves flutter in your stomach now. Maybe he doesn’t want a challenge at all. It’s not like you’ve been hard to get. The silence stretches just long enough to make you wonder if you’ve pushed too far. 

His exasperated sigh crackles through the phone, but it’s laced with something warmer. “Yeah.” But then he exhales, soft and almost self-conscious. “Ain’t a bad thing.”

The words are simple, but they settle somewhere deep, curling warm in your chest. For a moment, the flirty defense falls, and you catch the subtle weight in his voice.

“You’re full of surprises, Joel,” you say finally, your tone gentle.

“Guess you’ll find out,” he murmurs, the words quiet like he’s not sure he’s meant to say them.

Your stomach flutters at the unexpected softness. You knew there was more to him than his bold mouth when his dick is hard or the stoic lone wolf look he wears in his garage. You weren’t expecting him to be…whatever this is now. 

The line goes quiet again, his breathing soft on the other end. “Friday at seven,” he says after a moment, his voice steady but quieter than before. “There’s a brewery that Tommy suggested. I’ll pick you up.”

“That sounds nice,” you reply, smiling into the phone.

“Alright,” he mutters. There’s a brief pause, like he’s hesitating, before he says, “See you then.”

He hangs up before you can say anything else, and for a moment, you’re left staring at your phone like an idiot. A grin stuck on your face. Possibly permanently. 

It’s not just the idea of the date. It’s the thought of Joel making a plan, asking for recommendations, and thinking of what you might like. You figured it’d be fun to give him a hard time and all, but you didn’t have real expectations. 

The week stretches on and you’re not sure if it’s moving too fast or too slow. Having a crush is wicked enough, but having a date planned makes you feel slightly insane. It’s like you’re in a cartoon where the world is suddenly brighter and the birds sing just for you. 

You find yourself constantly daydreaming at work. Every Creed song Ellie plays somehow sends you into a fugue state. Snippets of Joel’s voice replay in your head. 

There’s something about the way he said, “Ain’t a bad thing,” that keeps sneaking up on you when you least expect it. It wasn’t even what he said—it was how he said it. Quiet, like he wasn’t used to admitting something like that out loud. It makes you smile like a fool every time you think about it.

The worst is the evenings. At home in your room. Nothing to distract you. Alone with his t-shirt. Re-reading your brief texts. Lingering wistfully over the dick pic he sent like it’s a letter from your long-distance lover. You’ve got to get it together. 

And Joel? He’s just as distracted, though he’d never admit it. At least not to anyone but you. 

At work, his usual rhythm is thrown completely out of whack. He catches himself staring at the same invoice three times before finally filing it away. Tommy catches him with his Breaking Benjamin t-shirt inside out. 

You’re in his head and it’s driving him nuts. He tried to minimize it. Deciding it was just the impulsive way you crashed into his world. You spread like a wildfire in his mind. The kindness in you to deliver a homemade meal. The audaciousness you have to go after what you want. 

He goes weak for a confident woman and you’re so sharp and quick with him. It’s a rush, but not just because of the sexual chemistry. Not just because you’re a novelty or a break in his routine. 

It’s you. It’s the way you’ve got the passion and sharpness with your words, but you’re still soft on the edges. He thinks about the way your voice had dipped when you said, “If you’re up for it,” like you weren’t just teasing but testing something, seeing if he’d push you away.

He’s not used to this. Not the nerves, not the anticipation, and definitely not the way he’s spending too much time wondering what to wear on Friday. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he even dug through the back of his closet, holding up a button-down shirt Ellie had bought him last Christmas like it might bite him. He ends up tossing it back in favor of flannel—it’s still a step up from a faded band t-shirt. 

By Thursday you’re nearly useless. You drive Ellie crazy all morning, spacing out and jumping when she asks you a question. To be respectful, you haven’t mentioned the date and she hasn’t asked. Would Joel have told her? Does she know you’re losing your mind over a man who probably has holes in his sweatpants? Are you equally as pathetic? 

You’re still stuck on that thought when she kicks your chair, startling you back to reality. “Come on,” she demands. “We’re outta here and you’re coming to the Main Street with me. I’ll buy.” 

Turns out you’re a cheap date. The dive bar has strong cocktails and a very limited menu of fried foods to choose from. You sit outside at a picnic table enjoying the warmth of the early summer evening. 

Ellie is easy to get along with. Talking animatedly about her friends. Sharing the hot goss about Cheryl and her divorce. Trying to recruit you to join the company rec league kickball team. It’s all a welcome distraction even though you still have Joel on the brain. 

You do your best not to bring him up but when she mentions him you know you perk up like a heart-eyed fool. Begrudgingly, but with sincerity, Ellie asks if the date is what’s got you so distracted. 

“How did you know?” 

“You’re both worse than teenagers.” She rolls her eyes. “Thought bringing you here might take your mind off it.” 

You snap to attention at her choice of words. “Both?” 

“Don’t.” 

She’s a good friend. You did need the distraction. You’re still smiling about that thought as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom at the bar. There’s a poster taped to the paper towel dispenser for the cover band that plays Saturday nights that catches your eye before you slip your phone out of your pocket. 

You’d blame it on the drinks but the truth is only had one. You hover over the messages. Wondering if he’s really as nervous as you. Fuck it, you decide before sending what you’ve been wondering. 

You: You been thinking about me? 

His message comes through so fast it’s more revealing than the words he typed. 

Joel: Maybe 

Fuck, why does one word have you feeling giddy already? 

Joel: Have you? 

He asks shortly after. You wonder if he’s second guessing himself. Is Joel nervous? 

You: A little  

You figure you’ll give him the same treatment. 

Joel: Haven’t been able to stop, if I’m honest baby 

Heat floods your face as you stare at the screen, and his next message comes before you can respond. 

Joel: Friday’s been feeling real far away 

That has you shaking your head. 

You: Patience is a virtue 

He’s quick to respond again. 

Joel: Never claimed to be a saintly man 

That makes you genuinely laugh. 

You: Good 

……

By the time Friday night rolls around, you’ve fully spiraled into a mess of anxiety and excitement. You’re not really the type to overthink a date, but there’s something about the whole scenario that feels different. It’s not just because Joel’s hot—hotter than he has any right to be—but he’s trying. For you. It’s disarming in a way you weren’t expecting. 

You know that the worst-case scenario for the night isn’t bad. You know how to have a good time wherever you are and you are confident that he’s a horny bastard that will put out even if you actively try to sabotage the date. It’s that flickering sensation in your chest that hopes for more. That’s what makes you nervous. 

You’re startled when Joel knocks at your front door. You check your reflection one last time before heading to the door. You figure it’s casual enough for a first date at a brewery. 

Despite everything inside of you that screamed to put your tits on display again—you couldn’t resist wearing the Creed shirt. You tied it up in the front so it accentuates your figure and paired it with a faux leather skirt with a matching black lace set underneath. 

It’s gotta be enough to play at the alt-rock vibe he’s still living in. You look good. Really good. 

But when you open the door he isn’t the only one who’s world gets rocked. Joel stands in front of you like he was plucked from your fantasy. Freshly showered, his damp curls just starting to dry in soft waves. A plaid button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off those strong, tan forearms. His dark jeans are markedly not as worn down as the last pair you saw him in, yet the effect on you is just as dastardly. 

It’s unfair, really, how good he looks. You’re left blinking as your mouth goes a little dry while you drink him in. Who’s idea was it to have a date? In public? Fuck. He shifts, a sly smile growing on his face as he rests his hip against the door jam. 

“Hi,” you mumble, still ogling him. 

“You look… real nice,” he says, voice so low and velvety it should be registered as a weapon. 

You know you had a smart-ass remark about the shirt on the tip of your tongue, but it’s gone. Gone… along with your morals. All you’ve got left is the intense, primal desire to do something inappropriate with his arms? Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny gremlins like your idea despite having no logistics or master plan. 

They seem to have no coherent plan of attack at all, to be honest. Bite! Lick! Suck! All you know is that you need him in your mouth until your jaw is sore. 

Joel huffs softly. Amused that you seem speechless. “Didn’t think flannel was all that special baby, you alright?” 

“It’s not the flannel,” you mutter under your breath, but you don't let him hear the rest of that thought: Arms! Arms! Arms! 

You grab your bag and follow him out to the truck, stealing glances at him as he walks ahead of you. You can’t help it. He’s so…solid. Sturdy. Sure of himself. Even when he’s out of his comfort zone. It’s doing something sinful to you. 

The inside of the truck smells faintly like a Black Ice air freshener, a Home Depot on a Sunday morning, and Armor All. The distinctly Joel aesthetic lives up to your imagination. It’s lived in. Comfortable. 

There’s the catchall cupholder of change, receipts, and literal nuts and bolts. The caseless CDs in the storage divider strapped to the sun visor—you recognize a couple like Seether and Three Days Grace. 

Before you can take in every detail though, you’re distracted by just the sight of him driving. It’s absurd, but why does he look this good just driving? Most people can manage to operate a vehicle, but most people don’t look as fuckable as Joel does, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh. Hand! Thigh! Neck! Fingers! 

You’re reduced to only being able to name anatomical features when you’re this close to him, apparently. Like an alien learning about a man for the first time. An extraterrestrial explorer propelled by the most curious desire to taste and touch every part of Joel—for research. 

You’re so caught up that it takes a while to register the song that’s playing. Of course, it’s more Nickelback. 

You're so much cooler

When you never pull it out

Cause you look so much cuter

With something in your mouth

It breaks the spell he has on you and you laugh, really laugh. Joel looks slightly horrified, having no idea what led to your outburst. When you’ve recovered enough, you let him in on it. 

“Nice first date song. You really know how to set the mood.” 

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t change the song, and you let yourself glance at him again as he drives. His profile glows in the evening sun, and you can’t help thinking how easy it would be to reach over and drag your hand down his chest, and make him pull over so you could climb into his lap. The thought has you pressing your thighs together, your pulse thrumming in your ears. At this rate you’re not going to make it through the night. 

…..

The brewery is trendy. Joel hopes it’s something you like. He tries to focus on the menu, but feels like his brain is short-circuiting. It’s not the overpriced burgers or the craft beers with descriptors that don’t sound like flavors. It’s the way you're leaning forward on your elbows, chin resting in your hand, smile tugging at your lips. 

The shirt is unfair. The way you’ve got it tied, hugging your body in ways that make his palms itch. Knowing you were touching yourself in the same shirt to the sound of his voice. He’s trying not to stare, trying to be polite, but it’s damn near impossible with you sitting across from him like that. 

“How about this one?” you say, pointing to an option on the menu. “Probably the closest thing to what you’ve got stocked in the shop fridge.” He’d wonder how you knew what he had in the fridge, but his eyes are glued to your finger pointing at the menu and it’s consuming all of his thoughts. 

You ramble on about a few other choices but he doesn’t hear the words. He’s still stuck on your hand. He swears he can still feel the ghost of your touch from the kitchen last week. Shit. His jeans are already feeling tighter than they should. 

He clears his throat, trying to pull it together. “I’ll trust you.”  

You smile wide at that. He’s so fucked. “You know a lot about fancy beer.” Yikes. “You got a favorite on here?” Get it together, he begs himself. 

“Nah, I don’t really like beer,” you say casually. You give him a shrug and point out a cider you’re thinking about trying. His stomach twists. 

“You don’t like beer,” he repeats. “But, you let me take you to a brewery?” His chest feels tight, and he shifts uncomfortably. 

“They have food, too.” you counter. 

“Right.” Why does he feel like he’s so out of his element? He’s been second-guessing everything about this date. He feels his gaze drifting as his eyes shift out of focus, his fingers toy with his bottom lip as he gets lost in his head. 

He knows he can get you worked up just as bad as him over the phone, knows he can make you sing for him with just his fingers, but this? He doesn’t know what you want from him now. Is the date some kind of test? He knows he’s overthinking all of it. 

“Hey.” Your voice brings him back, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I like that you planned something.” 

It seems genuine. The way you look at him with bright eyes and a smirk like you’ve got something to tease him about on the tip of your tongue. “Now ask me a boring first date question,” you instruct with a nod like you’re giving him some kind of permission. 

“What’s your favorite color?” 

You snort laughing at him. If you’re half as nervous as him you don’t show it. 

….

It works. Mostly. Your drinks arrive. The conversation flows more easily. He still gets tripped up here and there but doesn’t disappear on you again. He asks about your job, your family, about where you moved from, and you give him enough to keep things light but still playfully dodge some of his questions. 

Every time he gets flustered, you catch yourself smiling, a little surprised at how much you’re enjoying this. It’s the way he watches you like he’s trying to figure you out. The way he tries. He seems to relax a little and for a moment, you think he might settle into the evening. 

Then he reaches for his water, and it all goes sideways. The dangerously full glass wobbles, tilting just enough to spill halfway across the table. Joel jerks back, cursing dejectedly under his breath as he grabs a napkin to clean it up. 

You can’t help it. The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Just loud enough for him to hear. “Trying to get me wet already?” 

His eyes snap to yours. You grin, adding, “Don’t worry, been dripping for you since you showed up at my front door.” 

He makes a sound between a cough and a choke. Stunned. The faintest blush creeps up his neck, reaching all the way to his ears. For a second, he looks like he might say something, but all he manages to get out is a gruff, “Jesus.” 

You lean back in your chair, grinning triumphantly. You didn’t expect him to get so rattled by your comment. Not with how vulgar he’s been on the phone or when he had his hand between your legs. It’s an ego boost to know you’ve got the upper hand at first. 

“Relax,” you purr. 

Then you catch the way he discreetly tries to adjust himself under the table. Clearly unable to relieve the pressure. Knowing the effect you have on him is more intoxicating than the alcohol. An idea strikes you. You know exactly how to get him to relax. 

“Do you have cash?” you ask. 

“What? Yeah.” He looks at you confused. 

You nod like he proved a point by saying yes. That confuses him further, a deep line forming between his brows. 

“‘Course you do. That’s like, Dad 101 ‘carry cash in case of emergency’. 

You stand and grab your bag. “We’re not staying,” you say simply.

“What?” He frowns, sitting up straighter. 

You flash him a smile. “I’ve got a better idea. Come on. You said you trust me.”

“To choose a beer,” he grumbles, dropping enough cash for a generous tip on the table before letting you lead. He doesn’t argue as you walk back to the truck, just trying to catch up with your words. He opens the passenger door for you, his hand brushing yours briefly as you climb into the truck. It’s a small thing, but the innocence makes your pulse skip all the same. 

Once he’s in the driver’s seat, the tension between you shifts. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged. You glance at him, taking in the way his hands grip the steering wheel so tightly, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he shifts. 

The truck rumbles to life and another one of the horniest Nickelback songs plays—barely loud enough to recognize. 

I’m loving what you wanna wear

I wonder what’s up under there 

Wonder if I’ll ever have it under my tongue 

You bite back another laugh as the vocals float through the cab, perfectly at odds with the vibe of the place you just left. Joel shifts, mouth twitching like he knows how ridiculous it is. “You wanna tell me where we’re headed?” he asks, voice cutting through your thoughts. 

You tell him where to drive and settle back in your seat. Again your thoughts drift. Infatuated with his fingers curling and uncurling like he’s trying to distract himself. He hasn’t said much since you’ve left, but you can feel the tension radiating off him. Heavy and thick. 

You catch his gaze flicker to you for the third time in as many minutes. His eyes trail over the curve of your thighs where your skirt has ridden up. It’s subtle, but enough to make you feel bold. 

You smirk, pulling the visor down to check your reflection in the mirror. Fishing a lip gloss out from your bag, you swipe it over your lips, smoothing the edges with your fingertip. Joel doesn’t say anything, but you don’t miss the deep steadying breath that fills his lungs or the crack of his knuckles. 

Satisfied with your lips, you tug lightly at the t-shirt, adjusting the knot, shifting the fabric to lay how you like and slipping a hand beneath it to adjust your tits in your lacy bra. You hear Joel exhale sharply, a low, throaty sound that makes heat curl low in your stomach. 

“You okay?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. Your voice is softer now, more knowing, and when he doesn’t answer right away, you grin. “You seem tense.”

Joel mutters something under his breath. His jaw tightens. Finally, he glances at you, his eyes dark. “You keep doin’ that, and we’re gonna have a problem, baby.”

“Doing what?” you ask, your voice all innocence, though his threat gives you a prickly rush. 

Joel huffs a laugh, low and rough. “You know damn well.” His voice dips, a rasp of heat that whips down your spine. “The lips and the shirt, just messin’ with me like you want me to lose my fuckin’ mind.” 

Your grin widens as you meet his gaze. “And what if I do?”

“Jesus,” he mutters, his voice strained, his hand flexing against the wheel. “Trying to get me to crash into a ditch or something?” 

The tension between you is unbearable now, the air thick and buzzing. Joel’s jaw is clenched tightly. You unabashedly linger on the way his hips press forward slightly like he’s trying to relieve the ache between his legs. It shouldn’t drive you fucking wild with need, but you’re gripped mind, pussy, and soul. 

“Pull over,” you say suddenly, your tone steady.

Joel’s head snaps toward you, incredulous. 

“Pull over,” you repeat, your voice softer now, more insistent. “Please.”

He hesitates for only a second before caving, steering the truck onto the shoulder. The tires crunch against the gravel as he shifts into park, the engine idling low as he turns to look at you. His eyes are dark, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him—wrecked and barely holding it together—makes you rabid. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” his voice is rough and quiet. Infused with lust and awe. 

“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning closer. “But you’ll enjoy it.”

Joel groans softly, his hand flying to your thigh, the heat of his palm searing against your skin. “Torturing me,” he mutters, his voice a low growl. “Sitting there lookin’ like that, knowing damn well what you’re doin’ to me.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your breath hitching as his fingers slide higher. “What am I doing to you, Joel?”

He exhales sharply, his grip on your thigh tightening. Why are his hands that big? Like, how are you supposed to know what they feel like and ever leave his grasp? 

Your heart is pounding now, the heat in your veins making it hard to think straight. Joel’s voice drops lower, his hand sliding further up your thigh as he leans closer.

“Can’t stop thinkin’ about it,” he mutters, his lips ghosting over your jaw. “The way you’d taste, the way you’d sound, begging me to fuck you harder, deeper—”

“Joel,” you whisper, cutting him off. Your voice is shaky, your hands gripping his arm as you try to ground yourself. “Please.”

He groans again, the sound rough and desperate, and his hand moves higher, his fingers brushing the edge of your underwear. “Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

It makes you shudder. You feel him smile at your body's obvious responses, as his nose grazes your skin just below your ear. 

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs into your neck. “Been thinkin’ about you all damn week. Every time I close my eyes, it’s you.”

His words hit like a match to dry kindling, and your breath stutters as his fingers trace the seam of your panties. 

“You know how hard it was to sit there at that table?” he mutters, his voice turning darker. “With you looking like this, wearing my clothes, teasin’ me.” 

“We didn’t even make it to the actual dinner part,” you giggle as you trail off. 

His fingers press more firmly, dragging slowly over the thin fabric, and you can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips. Joel groans at the sound, his free hand gripping your thigh to hold you steady.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with heat. “You’re already soaked. Bet I could make you come like this, right here, without even tryin’.”

Your hips shift instinctively, grinding against his hand as he works you with deliberate precision. The friction is maddening, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to send you over. Every filthy word he says in your ear has you burning up. 

“Jesus, you’re gonna sound so fuckin’ sweet for me,” he says, more to himself. “Can’t wait to bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name until your throat’s raw.”

“Joel,” you whisper, your voice shaky, your hand flying to his wrist as his fingers dip lower, brushing just beneath the edge of your panties. “Wait.”

He freezes instantly, his brow furrowing as he looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, your cheeks flushed, your body still trembling under his touch. “Not now,” you assert, your voice soft but steady. “Let me take care of you.”

Joel blinks, his pupils blown wide as your words sink in. His mouth parts to say something but the words disappear. You don’t let him argue. 

Sliding your hand down to his belt, you undo it hastily, fingers working open the button of his jeans before he can protest. It’s for him. You want to do this for him. Help him relax so you can enjoy the rest of your date. 

But, fuck, it’s also for you. You’ve been riding a high just from a shoddy dick pic and your muscle memory, but you’ve been patient long enough. You’ve got to see it in person and you need it in your mouth, asap. You deserve that much, right? 

You slide down the zipper and fuss with the waistband until you get what you wanted. His breath catches as you free his cock. It’s heavy and hard against your palm. Radiating heat and weeping for you. 

“Oh, fuck,” he starts, his voice breaking. 

You hum softly, pleased, leaning in to kiss him as your hand strokes him slowly, deliberately. Joel groans against your mouth, his hips jerking slightly into your hand. 

“You’ve been thinking about this,” you murmur against his lips. “All week.” 

“Yeah,” he rasps, voice raw with want. “Can’t stop thinking about you. How you’d feel, how you’d look, how you’d sound.” 

“Show me,” you whisper, lowering your head to taste for yourself. You like a hot stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue around the head. 

Joel’s breath stutters, his hand flying to the back of your head as he watches you. “You’re so fucking good, baby. Like a fucking dream.” 

You hollow your cheeks, tongue gliding along his length as you take him into the heat of your mouth. You have to use your hands to work the rest of him, still slowly and deliberately. Every sound he makes, every twitch against your tongue, every flex of his core, and tightening of his fingers, it all drives you wild. 

It has you moaning with need around him. Your cunt soaked and pulsing, begging for attention between your legs as you focus all on him. It’s just as much for you as it is for him. 

His head tips back against the seat, a rumbling grown spilling from his lips as his hips shift beneath you. 

“Shit.” he pants, voice cracking. “You’re gonna make come so fuckin’ hard. Bet you’d look so pretty with my come on your tongue.” 

The sheer filth of his words spurs you on, your movements quickening as you savor every groan, curse, and sharp inhale from him. “Fuck—just like that.” He encourages you, adding firm pressure to the back of your head as his hips jerk and he loses control. 

“You want it?” he asks desperately as you moan in affirmation. You’re voice is still vibrating through him as he starts to come, hot and heavy on your tongue. You don’t stop until his body goes slack beneath you, his chest heaving as you finally pull back. 

He looks wrecked, mouth hanging open, sweat on his brow. You give him a devilish smile before opening your mouth to show him. He stares at you, eyes dark and hazy, before cupping your jaw in his palm as you swallow. 

“Told you,” he huffs, “so fucking pretty with my come on your tongue.” A bright, satisfied smile spreads on your face at his praise. He pulls you in closer for a kiss. When you pull back a frown pulls at your mouth. 

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks hurriedly. 

“I didn’t get to see,” you muse. “Will you take a picture next time?” 

“Fuck,” he looks at you with awe and pride. “Yeah, baby, of course.” 

“Good,” you nod, readjusting and settling back into your seat. “You think you can relax a little now?” you ask, tone teasing.

Joel lets out a breathless laugh. He drags his hand down his face. “You’re unreal,” he mutters, voice still hoarse. The phrase makes you beam with pride. It’s the same remark he made over the phone last week…right before he said ‘got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager’.” 

The gratification just from seeing him this wrecked is like a drug. He’s every bit as enticing and addicting as you hoped and feared. You squeeze your thighs together once more and take a deep breath. Committed to the rest of your idea for saving your first date with the divorced DILF of your dreams. 

“Back on the road. We’ve got places to be.”

Joel blinks at you, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re serious?”

“Yep,” you smile lazily, tugging gently at his arm. “Drive.”

He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about you being the death of him, but he shifts the truck into gear, his hand lingering on your thigh as he pulls back onto the road.

THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU ENJOYED OR HATED ANY OF IT <3

dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics

Tags:

@pedroswife69

@jasminedragoon

@lilac-boo

@peekyourinterest

@evysian

@millersamour

@evolnoomym

@ladybeediva

@hoelaris

@gwendibleywrites

@xdaddysprincessxx

@bitchesuntitled

@thundermartini

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@indiegirlunited

@yopossum

@sunshinehaze1

@moel-jiller

@pedrito-is-punk

@baebee35

@blacktoptown

@deliciouslydisturbed35

@94namkooksworld

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@indiegirlunited

@kilamonster

@hoelaris

@sunshinehaze1

@anoverwhelmingdin

@bbyanarchist

@syd-djarin

@deviseren

@embearlyhere

General tags 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy

@indiegirlunited

@syd-djarin

@harriedandharassed

@bbyanarchist

@94namkooksworld

[magpiepills]

Doin’ Time

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Corrections Officer Joel Miller x f inmate reader

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: you’re a client of the criminal justice system and you have a run in with CO Miller

Warnings: SMUT! PWP, Dub Con, hand cuffs, unethical pairing, PIV, rough oral, masturbation, dirty talk, night stick, kinda mean Joel, stuff like that. It’s prison sex. Don’t read this if anything about it may be triggering to you. Barely edited, not beta’d.

A word from the author: ACAB. Cops are class traitors and policing is inherently racist. Still gonna write prison smut though.

“Inmate 4-2-0-6-9! Against the wall!” He bellowed across the yard where you sat with a few of the girls from your block. You rolled your eyes with a groan and slowly stood, dragging your feet across the yard to where he stood, arms crossed and face hard. Last thing you needed was to get maced.

C.O. Miller was the most senior guard, which wasn’t saying much considering the revolving door of the run-down prison where you were remanded for the next 32 months. Nevertheless, he was basically in charge of the way things worked in your block. He had a big, jangling key ring on his thick, black belt and you could hear him before you saw him coming. This was a blessing and a curse. It gave you time to hide your cell phone, but after four months in cell block D, the sound of his keys also created something of a Pavlovian response.

“Tits on the wall and hands behind your back,” he barked at you. “And feet apart. Come on sweetheart. I know you know how to spread those legs.”

He was behind you now, big palm pressing you roughly against the brick wall that surrounded the yard. You didn’t speak. You let your hips do the talking, tilting forward to arch your back while he patted you down, running his night stick up the inside of one leg and down the other, with a stop in between to prod at the apex of your thighs. He stood close behind you, sliding his hands greedily around your waist.

“Got anything in here I need to know about?” He breathed into your ear as he slid his hands up under your beige top. He palmed your tits from behind and rolled his hips against your ass so you could feel his straining erection.

He pinched your nipples and dragged his nose against the side of your neck before stepping back.

“No bra. That’s a dress code violation.”

You couldn’t stop the smirk on your face when he pulled your hands behind you, snapping on handcuffs and letting you stroke his cock over his uniform pants.

He pulled you away from the wall and directed you back into the building, away from the prying eyes of the other girls who got to enjoy the rest of their time in the sunshine.

Miller nodded at a few other guards as you passed, and you winked at your friends in their cells and exaggerated your strut as they whistled and whooped when they saw who was walking you to ad-seg. It earned you a rough shake. “Knock it off.” He ordered. He’s no fun.

By the time you got to the heavy, windowless door leading to the familiar, bare cell known as “the hole” your pussy was slick and throbbing in anticipation.

He unlocked the door, took off the cuffs, and shoved you inside, leaving you alone in the stuffy six by nine room. You could hear the lock being turned, and footsteps receding. You waited and listened, still soaking your standard issue pants with your wet pussy.

You got tired of waiting. He hadn’t told you how long you were going to be in here, so you laid on the thin mattress on the floor and slipped your hand under your waistband. It was really the only reasonable way to pass the time when you were sent to the hole.

You stroked over your lips, feeling the mess you made, dipping your middle finger to collect more. You circled your clit, in no hurry because you had nothing but time. You thought of Crissy, your cellmate with the great tits. You thought of your last boyfriend, who could make you come like magic but who had probably narc’d on you. You thought of C.O. Miller. You thought of that night stick of his. You even thought of Tim.

Before you could get yourself off, the lock disengaged and the door creaked open once more. CO Miller stood in the doorway, taking up the whole of it with his imposing body and his serious face.

“You’re just in time,” you cooed teasingly.

“Shut up. Hands behind your back. Turn around,” his voice is low and gruff, and if he wasn’t hard as a rock you might think he was actually mad. He cuffed you again and shoved you against the cold concrete wall of your cell. He kissed your neck, the tenderness a stark contrast to the rough way he was treating you. He crowds you against the wall, covering your body with his. “You know I could write you a shot for rubbin’ one out in here. Got the whole room smellin’ like pussy.” His voice is husky and low. He’s teasing, you think. Masturbating isn’t really an infraction is it? You don’t have time to ask. His hand is shoved down the back of your baggy pants and into your soaked, prison-issue cotton underwear.

You wished you had some of your own panties to wear for him. You wish he could see you like you are when you’re not in this place. His eyes might bug out if he saw your sundresses and your lacy panties. Your strappy sandals, your makeup, your manicures. He doesn’t see it though. He sees a criminal. He sees someone he can take from. And you see someone who can make your stay a little more comfortable if you play it right.

You tilt your hips, rubbing your pussy against his thick fingers, and for a moment he lets you, humming into your hair. “Desperate little pussy. What’s the matter? None of the other girls eat pussy? You need it so bad you’ll let me at it?” You whine at the question, the vulgarity. The other girls do eat pussy. Some are really good at it, too. But as awful as Miller is, you just want him. He’s big and rugged and he’d be exactly your type outside of prison. You like your men a little older- greying, laugh lines, softer bellies, but still strong. He’s so handsome. His eyes are so dark, his lips are so soft looking, he’s got a nose with the most beautiful gentle curve. He has the sort of looks that belong in movies, not going to waste in a women’s prison.

He presses firmly against your wet lips with his whole hand, covering his palm and fingers in your wetness before shoving two fingers in without warning. It makes you gasp, makes you buck against him, seeking more. He flexes his wrist, fucking you on his fingers. It’s not enough, you can’t come like this, but the feeling of being stretched is incredible. “More,” you whine, “more please.”

“Yeah? You need more? Two big fingers ain’t enough?” You shake your head shyly, unable to look at his face, still unsure of the dynamic. You hear the rustle of his belt, of leather against fabric, your mouth waters and your cunt clenches. You know he’s big. The way he walks, the way he talks, the look in his eyes, they tell you he’s hung even if you hadn’t felt for yourself.

Your pants are pulled down to your ankles, along with your underwear. You can feel your slick smear down your thighs. You don’t dare speak, you just arch your back, ready to take him, ravenous for his cock. his warm hand pressed into your back, your chest against the wall again, and you stifle a whimper but what you feel prodding against your weeping entrance isn’t the fat, hot cock head you had hoped for. It was cold and hard and heavy, you recognized it immediately.

CO Miller slid the tip of it over your wet pussy lips, twisting it to coat the surface in shiny wetness, smirking when you tried to grind down onto it. Without warning or sentiment, Joel nudged his night stick inside you. It seemed made for the purpose, rounded at the end, phallic. You wondered how many women he’d fucked with it. It gave you a fucked up thrill. You rolled your hips, taking it deeper. “Yeah. Look at you. Fucking a night stick. Been without dick too long, huh?”

You nodded pathetically and looked at him from the corner of your eye, his eyes were dark and his hand was inside his unfastened pants, stroking himself slowly. He matched the tempo of his fist to the thrust of his night stick inside you. You moaned for him, you saw him snarl as he watched with narrowed eyes as his weapon slid in and out, coved in your slick. He moved it slowly, watching the way your delicate skin stretched around it.

And then it was gone. Pulled free and discarded, clattering on the floor. In an instant his cock was out and hanging between you, thick, throbbing, precum leaking from the blunt head. It was better than you imagined, and you’d imagined it a lot. He spun you around and shoved you down to your knees. You nearly lost your balance, unable to steady yourself with your hands behind your back. He caught your shoulder and steadied you, petting your hair and letting his hands roam over your cheeks and down your neck, thumb brushing over your lips.

“Open up. Wide. Come on.”

You relaxed your jaw as best you could and stuck out your tongue to lick at the tip of his cock. His precum was salty and warm on your tongue. He let you taste him, licking around his thick head messily, teasing for as long as he would let you. It wasn’t long. He held your head and guided himself inside, slow and steady until he got to the back of your throat, and then just a bit further before backing out. You focused on breathing, in and out through your nose when it wasn’t pressed into the rough hair above his cock. Above you he moaned. A deep, warbling sound of pleasure that made you gush.

You turned your eyes up to try to meet his, but they were shut tight. His head lolled back and forth as he fucked your face. His movements became shorter and rougher, your mouth watered, ready to swallow his load, to prove your value to him, to earn his favor. And if you got off on it too, well, all the better.

There was no chance. Instead of coming down your throat, he pulled out suddenly, smearing drool onto your cheek. “Lay down. There, on the mattress.”

You moved awkwardly with your hands behind your back and your ankles basically manacled in your pants. You walked on your knees and laid on your back, legs together in a futile attempt at modesty. Of course it didn’t matter, he was already there, pushing them apart, spreading them wide and taking a gluttonously long look at your wet sex. You throbbed so hard you thought he could surely see.

“Jesus Christ. Look at that. You always get this wet from sucking dick? You’re dripping all over the place.”

He pulled one bare foot and then the other from your pants, and pumped his cock in his thick fist while he taunted you, spitting into his hand for one last stroke before lining himself up with your begging hole.

“Just yours,” you lied, fawning over him until he chased the air out of you with the heft of his cock. Even when he stretched you beforehand, he was tremendous. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, or to compliment him any more. He bore into you with his weight and strength, driving you into the floor. The world went fuzzy and dim, his deep voice keeping you afloat.

“Little prison pussy can’t handle some dick? Huh? Get a little cock in ya and you can’t think straight any more?”

Miller held your face in one hand, squeezing your cheeks together until your lips parted. He kissed your chin, biting it without conviction, and spat onto your tongue before kissing you, all messy, his tongue tasting yours. You pant and moan for him, trying hard to lift your hips for more even as he pounded into you.

When you wrapped your legs around his waist he sat up, as if suddenly aware that what he’s doing is wrong.

“Don’t try anything,” he warned, and repositioned you.

Miller turned you half onto your side and pushed back into you. He held your still handcuffed wrists in one hand and squeezed the soft fat of your ass in the other while using your body,

“Fuck me, that’s a tight little pussy,” he gritted out, straddling your right thigh while the other was pushed up. He used you like a toy. He pushed and pulled you as he pleased. Your orgasm built slowly without any direct touch on your clit, throbbing and firm, all but forgotten by the man who filled your cunt completely.

Joel loved watching the shiny wet slide of his cock in and out of your pussy. Your body gripped and pulled him, soaked him and squeezed him just right. His eyes flitted from where he drove into you to your tits, bouncing with each thrust and then back.

Your release was like a ripple spreading outward from your center. It pulsed and took control of your body. Your eyes lost focus, your back arched, and you clenched hard on CO Miller’s cock.

His orgasm hit him hard and fast, like a lightning bolt through his body. The rhythmic beat of your impossibly tight pussy pulled it from him. There was barely time for him to pull out and rut his hot, wet cock against your ass, spilling his cum over your body.

He was finished with you. He wiped his cum from you body with a handkerchief. He was gentle, but sure not to leave a trace behind. He tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket and took a long last look at your slick, used sex before standing you up to right your pants.

You watched him as he went through these motions, devoid of sentiment or warmth.

“Well, Miller? Do I get off for good behavior?”

It earned you a crooked half smile that flashed across this scruffy face before disappearing again.

“You get a shower.”

It wasn’t your usual shower time but you didn’t protest. You didn’t ask if you’d still get your shower tomorrow. Just walked obediently in front of him, still floaty from your release. He took you back down an empty corridor, past disused units, what used to be a library, to a shower room that was normally off limits, used by the guards as a sort of hangout, a break room separate from the main break room.

There, waiting with knees spread wide, and an eager smile, was CO Morales.

“Morales is gonna help ya with that shower. Don’t give him any trouble, or I’ll hear about it.”

Your mouth dropped as the younger man came to stand in front of you, taking your arm and pulling you closer to him.

“Broke her in for you,” CO Miller patted your ass as he addressed the new officer. The clear implication sent a fresh trickle of wetness from your slit.

“And next time,” he warned, “put on your bra. Won’t be so nice next time.”

[lady-djarin]

the ranch manager

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

warnings/tags: age gap (legal - 20s/50s), joel wearing a cowboy hat needs its own warning, kinda yellowstone drama vibes, tipsy? sex (joel, not reader)-everyone consenting here!, outdoor sex, piv sex, fingering, edging, mdni 18+

word count: 3.1k

a/n: fun fact- my dad owns a ranch in wyoming so i do have some first hand knowledge lol (except for the sexy ranch manager thing) but my recent visit inspired this as they were gathering cows while i was there. i hope you enjoy!

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

This stupid city was going to drive you nuts. Chicago was everything you wanted when you moved there. The big city was so much better than the extreme quiet of Jackson, Wyoming where your family owned and operated a ranch. You grew up in the small city your whole life, finally wanting some freedom in college but after your 3rd year there it was starting to feel cramped. There is no privacy in the city, everyone stacked on top of each other, too many people, too little space. You needed out, just for a while.

So you found yourself back home, at the ranch. The sprawling space on the property made you feel more at peace than you ever felt in the city. It was your second day back home when you met some of the new staff working for your dad. Tess was kind of like a supervisor for the younger guys who did the day to day work. Tommy and his wife Maria were kind of doing a little of everything; ordering, organizing and even some cowboying.

Then you met Joel, the ranch manager. He was broad and imposing in the best way possible. The salt and pepper beard framed his plush lips that rarely curled into a slight but striking smile. His hooked nose looked like it would brush all the right places and you longed to run your fingers through his dark waves. While he looked to be in about his late 40’s or early 50’s, he was built and honestly sexy as hell.

You knew you needed him.

Because of his initial grumpy demeanor he did intimidate you at first but his soft brown eyes gave away his true nature. Over the few days you were back in town you had been around Joel a lot more, you ended up helping out with small projects on the farm. You were cleaning out some of the horse stalls when you heard him.

Joel was carrying bags of feed into the tack room as he barked orders at one of the workers. Both hands were full as he passed by the stall you were in and you knew the door he was heading to was closed. You knew this was your chance to be with him alone. You knew the moment you met Joel you wanted him, despite the fact that he worked with your dad and he was almost as old as him too. You rushed over to grab the door handle before he reached it, holding it open for him.

“Oh thanks darlin’,” god and his voice. It was deep and rough and it slid down your spine like honey. His southern drawl was rich and it made him all the more alluring.

“No problem, need any help?”

”Actually could ya’ help me get the bags into the bin?” He handed you a box cutter, signaling for you to cut open the bags so he could refill the bin. As you finished your task, Joel came over to take the box cutter back.

God he looked good, he always looked good. You could smell his cologne as he came closer and suddenly it felt like the temperature rose 10 degrees.

Little did you know Joel was eyeing you the whole time, watching the way your legs looked in the jeans that were practically skin tight. The way your hair was messed out of your loose braid, falling around your face in a halo, always drawing his eye.

“Thanks for the help, sugar,” his drawl made your panties wet.

“Sugar?” you licked your lips, unable to look away from his.

He looked sort of panicked for a moment, like he thought he overstepped. You loved it. He saw that you loved it. He must have decided it’s too much of a risk as he stepped away from you and stuttered a response before pocketing his knife.

“Uh… thanks for your help darlin’,” he mumbled as he backed away and out of the tack room and he kind of tripped on his own feet. You felt a little guilty liking the way you made him nervous but it was such a rush. To reduce this larger and older man to a mumbling mess was a huge ego boost.

You followed him out, closing the distance until you were just a few feet away. You saw his eyes widen as he watched you come closer and you felt that surge of satisfaction hit your stomach again.

“Of course, anything you need Joel. Anything.” You tried to sound as seductive as possible and it must have worked as the tips of his ears turned a dusty pink.

“Th-thanks darlin’… I— uh I’ll let you know if… if I need anything else,” his voice broke as he tripped again and tried to put distance between you two. Even though it was obvious he was trying to politely decline you, he was still tempted. His gaze fell to your lips, then your chest and further down until it bounced back to your eyes.

When it looked like he was about to pass out you finally relented.

“Ok Joel, see ya!” You sounded chipper and giddy as you skipped away from him and he finally let out a breath he was holding in.

He needed to control himself but he had a feeling that was going to be difficult with you around.

~

The next time you saw Joel was the big day on the ranch. It was the day the cows were rounded up and tested for pregnancy. By 7am the vet was already set up and the ranch hands along with Tommy and Maria were gathering cows into the corals. You ventured outside to find your dad and Joel standing at the fence watching the crew work.

“Hey kid, how’d you sleep?” Your dad looked tired himself but Joel on the other hand, he seemed nervous.

“Pretty good, I forgot how quiet it is here at night. In Chicago it’s always loud.”

You looked over at Joel who was on the other side of your dad and he looked like he was ready to jump in with the restless cows just to get away from this conversation.

“Why aren’t you out there Joel? Don’t they need you?” You tried to sound innocent but by the look in his eye, he knew you were trying to see how much you could push him.

Your dad laughed and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Oh the old man here hurt his back so he has to sit out.”

“Two old men… how do you two get anything done?”

Your dad looked at you with a fake hurt expression. “Woah… I’m not the one with a hurt back!”

“Ok dad but you’re also not the one out there on a horse so…”

Joel now patted your dad on the back. “She’s got’cha there buddy.”

Your dad stood between you both and swiveled his head back and forth. “You guys suck…” He conveniently found someone who needed his attention and left you alone with Joel. You both stood at the fence and watched the organized chaos as the ranch hands and vet work on each cow.

“So how long y’here for?” Joel's voice seemed a little nervous.

“Well… I’m not sure. The longer I’m here the less I want to go back.” You turned to find him already looking over at you. “It’s just so… peaceful here.”

“I hear ya’,” he adjusted the cowboy hat sitting on his head. “Well except on preg-test day.” Just to prove his point, a cow screeched and tried to run from the herd right towards the two of you. Just as it reached the fence Joel grabbed both of your shoulders and pulled you away, right into his chest. You stumbled a bit but he held you until you were able to keep yourself upright. You look up to find the fence completely caved in, if Joel hadn’t grabbed you, you would have been bleeding on the floor by now.

“Tha—thanks Joel.” Your voice made you sound way more shaken up than you intended. “Jesus, damn cows.”

“They really do hate this vet stuff. Let’s go inside, I need another coffee.”

The two of you went into the ranch office, starting another pot of coffee knowing the cowboys would want more later. When the mugs were full of steaming caffeine, you sat down at the table waiting for Joel to join you.

“You ok, cowboy?” You looked at him up and down, his nervous demeanor evident in his stance.

He flashed that crooked smile as he sat next to you and removed his hat, placing it on the table upside down. You each sipped your coffee and you thought to yourself how kind of sweet it was that this big bad-ass rancher was reduced to an anxious mess by your hand.

The silence was too much to bear and needing a reprieve you picked up his hat and tried it on. It was way too big for your head as it was fitted to him, so it slipped down your forehead. Before you got a chance to adjust it, Joel tipped the brim up above your eyebrows. When he did, your eyes met and for once he was the one making your heart skip a beat. His deep amber eyes were locked on yours and his enticing lips framed by that gray-speckled beard were making you short of breath. All either of you could do was stare at each other, unable to break the spell. Suddenly you realized he was still holding onto the hat brim, then he slid his fingers down along your cheek as a sigh escaped your lips.

“Y’know darlin’… fuck, this is wrong,” he was breathless, like the air was stolen from his lungs.

“What… what’s wrong, Joel?” You were baiting him, making him say the words.

“It’s wrong how much… how much I wanna kiss you.”

Fuck, he was making you weak.

“Why don’t you?”

That suddenly shook him out of his trance, moving away and settling back into his chair, he looked more angry now, maybe in himself.

“I can’t… we can’t. It ain’t right.”

“Why?” You tried not to sound upset so as to scare him away.

“‘Cus, I’m too old and your dad would murder us both,” he looked wrecked. His pupils were saucers and his breath was quick. He looked out the office windows like he was looking for your dad, expecting him to be watching through the glass.

“If you want to talk more… I’ll be down at the lake tonight. midnight.”

And with that you walked off, a saunter in your steps and his hat on your head.

~

The lake on the property wasn’t large but it was somewhere you often felt peace. It’s a good way out from the house so it’s always quiet, the only noise now was the quiet hum of bugs.

You wore a light sleeping dress and robe over it and of course Joel’s hat. It was still pretty warm at night so you were more than comfortable. As you laid out on the blanket in the grass, you thought to yourself that if Joel doesn’t show, you know your answer. You checked your phone for the time; ‘12:07pm’ flashed across the screen. Maybe that was your answer.

“Darlin’?”

Your heart skipped. He came.

You turn to find Joel breaking through the trees, his broad shoulders stretching a dark sweatshirt and hips hugged by those damn jeans.

“Wow, I really thought you wouldn’t come.”

He now looked surprised. “Well someone took my favorite hat.”

“That’s all you came for? The hat?” You faced him as he came and sat down next to you, very close to you.

“Maybe not all I came for…,” he gave you that dazzling smile that’s so rare for him.

You did notice something different, he’s more relaxed, more fluid in his movements.

“Joel, are you drunk?”

He had a kind of spacey look on his face and a twinkle in his eye that shone when he laughed. “Well darlin’, I had one…a few. I was a lil’ nervous…” He looked a little ashamed at his admission.

“That’s ok. Got any more on you?” To your surprise he pulled out a half empty flask from his pants pocket. He opened it for you and took a sip then handed it to you, his eyes drawn to how your lips wrapped around it and whiskey escaped the sides. “Thanks cowboy. What’s got you so nervous, huh?”

He looked at you bashfully as he took another sip before clearing his throat. “Well don’t y’think it’s a little odd for an old man like me to entertain a young pretty thing like you?”

You were so close to him you could smell the soap he must have used mixed with a smell that’s uniquely him. He smells woodsy and manly and inviting and mixed with the feeling of having him so close led you to be bold. He froze as your lips connected, the split second before you melted into each other was one of pure bliss. His lips were softer than you expected and his tongue even softer, both working to take you apart at the seams.

You pulled apart, catching your breath and taking each other in now.

”You— you think I’m… pretty?” Your voice was horse and laced with desire.

Joel’s laugh was fuller now, a deep rumbling thing that made you shiver. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” While he was definitely bubblier than usual, he was deadly serious about this. His deep brown eyes were all the comfort you required and they conveyed his truth; you were everything he could ever want. “I have to ask you darlin’, are you sure you want this? Y‘not just doing this to stick it to your dad or nothin’?”

You smiled at his genuine concern, a sweet gesture from a man who doesn’t want to harm you.

“Joel, ever since I’ve met you, I couldn't get you out of my mind.”

His twinkly eyes widened a bit as a shaken breath escaped his lips. Before he had a chance to respond, you were on him. You straddled his thick thighs and clasped your hands in his dark curls, drawing his mouth to you. The two of you moved together in sync, like you were made for each other. The sparks flying higher as you ground in his lap, trying to create any friction to soothe the ache settled low in your belly.

Joel’s callused hands skimmed your skin, the roughness a stark contrast to your nightgown sliding across your body. He is all man and it was making your cunt throb, you knew you needed him inside you.

“J-Joel, please,” it came out more as a whine.

“Just hol’on darlin’,” he shuffled you around so you were draped on the blanket in the grass and he hovered above you. His nimble fingers pushed under your nightgown, hooked around the thin fabric of your panties and pulled them off your legs. His eyes never left your skin as more was exposed to him, his chest expanding with a deep inhale.

“What did I do to deserve this?” He was mostly speaking to himself, like he was not sure you were even really beneath him.

“P-please I…,” your pleas were cut off by him prying your legs open and sliding two fingers through your gathered wetness. “Oh God…”

To say this man blew your mind would be the understatement of the century. His fingers moved in a way that drew out the deepest pleasure and moans that rival a professional. Thank goodness that no one was around and you could make as much noise as you wanted. He worked his fingers into you with passion and brought you close to the edge.

“I’m c-close. You’re gonna make me cum,” you were delirious with lust. Just as you were about to fall off the edge he pulled away. The noise that left you surprised both of you, sounding more like an animal than human.

He was just as eager as you, unzipping and lowering his pants until he was free. You caught a glimpse of him and knew he was not only enjoying the way you writhed on his fingers, he was preparing you.

“I wanna feel you cum on me, got it darlin’?”

He stroked himself a few times with your arousal, slicking himself as he notched the tip at your entrance. A groan escaped both of you as he slid inside, the stretch of him was almost too much until it dissolved into the most blinding pleasure you’ve ever experienced. You fit together better than any puzzle or lock and key. You were already so close to the edge before but now he was hitting a place inside you that no one else ever had. The coil was winding tighter with every push of his hips, his lips devouring you from your neck to the tips of your breasts. Every move he made felt like heaven and he felt like your god.

“J-Joel… I’m-I’m gonna— gonna cum,” every word was cut off by a moan.

Suddenly he sat up straight, keeping up his movements as he brought his hand down to where you’re joined and circled your clit. The sharp movements shot pleasure through every limb, making you writhe in his lap.

“Cum for me baby… I wanna feel you squeeze my cock darlin’,” his voice was rough like gravel, rumbling through his chest into yours.

That was it.

The command was all you needed to push you over the edge. Your back arched as the tidal wave of pleasure overtook you and your legs locked around his hips.

“Oh fuck… yes. That’s my good girl,” he fucked you through it. His fingers and hips kept up their movements until he fell apart. He stilled inside of you as a deep moan broke free before pushing his spend deeper inside you. You could still feel him pulsing inside of you as you both came down from your highs.

As you lay beside him and looked up at the stars, the sounds of the night surrounding you, Joel wrapped you in his large arms. You talked and kissed and cuddled all night, only breaking apart once the sun started to rise.

He walked you back to your house before heading off to his own, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Am I finally allowed to have my hat back?”

You took the Stetson off your head and placed it back onto his. You looked down to see your panties sticking out of his jeans pocket.

“Well how’s that fair when you get to keep something of mine?”

“No one said it’s fair, darlin’. You can have something of mine next time.”

Next time. Your stomach warmed at the idea. Maybe you’d have to stay here a lot longer than expected.

[snshineandgnpwdr]

quickie

pairing - Joel Miller x f!reader

word count - 750ish

warnings - idk, I'm always bad at this part....all I can think of is a few curse words and allusions to minors being sexually active, let me know if I missed anything....

author's notes - this is a no outbreak, nothing hurts AU where Joel gets to have both of his daughters and they get to grow up together. Reader is a physical blank slate, but it is implied that she is at least Sarah's biological mother, you get to decide how Ellie joined the family. 💕

"Joel, babe, come sit down. Stop being a creeper. Sarah will be in soon enough. She's not so grown yet that she'll miss movie night."

He turns from the front window - the one that on a clear day provides a perfect view of the driveway - to face you, hands on his hips and scowl on his handsome face and you have to bite your lip to keep from outright laughing at him.

"Forget movie night. Our baby is outside in a car with a boy we barely know, probably rounding second base by now, how the hell are you so calm?"

"One, it's pouring down rain, what do you even think you're gonna see and why would you want to see it anyway? And two- I may have already run a background check on this kid and his whole family," you shrug. "They're all pretty clean."

"Well, that's fucking great, honey, really. Fantastic use of the firm's resources--"

"My resources. It's not like I'd bill the firm for my own personal snooping."

"I'm so glad this Paul character doesn't have a criminal record," Joel continues like you hadn't even interrupted him. "But do you know what teenage boys do in the back of their SUVs?"

"Mmmm.....," you smile up at him. "I do have some pretty fond memories of one teenage boy and the cab of his old beat up pickup truck...."

"Can you take this seriously? All that fumbling around in my truck you're so fond of is what landed us here."

"Oh, you were pretty fond of it too if I remember correctly, Mr Miller. And here's not so bad, is it? Nice house, successful careers, two beautiful and intelligent daughters. I think we've done pretty good for ourselves."

That almost gets a smile out of him before he glances back at the window and the scowl returns.

"But Sarah--"

"Is not us, Joel. She's smart. And she makes better choices. Besides," you laugh. "It's not like she's going to have a quickie in the back of a 20 year old Chevy Blazer in her parents driveway anyway."

Joel drops down the couch next to you, face pale beneath his tan. "Sex? Our baby's having sex?"

"Jesus, Joel," you sigh. "That's not--"

"Technically," Ellie interrupts, wiggling to squeeze onto the couch between you and Joel and not spill the giant bowl of popcorn she brought with her. "I'm the baby. And I'm not currently boinking anyone."

"Currently?" Joel splutters, eyes wide as he looks between you and Ellie. "Currently?? Implying what exactly here, missy?"

"Nothing, geez," Ellie scoffs. "Relax, old man. Besides, even if I was, it's not like--"

Ellie's interrupted by the front door slamming and you and Joel share a knowing look over her head -she's so close, you just know she'll officially tell you about Riley any day now- before both of you turn your attention to her older sister as she dramatically flops down into the oversized armchair next to the sofa.

"Boys are stupid. I'm never dating again," she announces to the room, earning a grin from her father and an eye roll from you. "What are we watching tonight anyway?"

"Ellie got to pick since you were otherwise occupied," Joel says pointedly as he fires up the DVD player and starts the movie.

"Noooooo," Sarah groans. "Please tell me she didn't pick The Martian again? Ugh. Matt Damon is so gross. If I have to suffer through this again, at least come over here and share the popcorn, nerd."

"Shoulda been here sooner instead of swapping spit with Paul, ho-bag," Ellie laughingly teases as she wiggles up from her seat on the couch and goes to squish onto the armchair with Sarah.

You take the opportunity to scoot closer to your husband and he throws an arm around your shoulder and tucks you close to his side.

Forty minutes later the girls are still trading barbs and Mark Watney is sciencing the shit out of things and you tilt your head up to whisper in Joel's ear.

"What do you say we go out to your truck and see if you've still got it?" you ask, nipping at his ear and tracing your fingers along the inseam of his jean clad thigh.

"Hell no, woman," he whispers back. "I'm too old for that shit now. But I could follow you up the stairs to that nice soft bed we have in our nice private room."

"Sounds like a winner to me," you laugh, taking his hand and doing just that.

[joelalorian]

Wonder in Winterland - Part I

Hallmark!Joel Miller x f!reader | wc: 2790 | masterlist

Summary: You, a city girl on a cross-country road trip a week before Christmas, find yourself stranded in a whimsical Christmas town. You soon discover there is more to life than big city dreams. Based on the Hallmark movie Love You Like Christmas.

Warnings: None (although the rest of this blog is 18+ mdni). This is utter fluff and whimsy. Limited descriptions of reader and no use of y/n. Enjoy it with a cuppa hot cocoa and a warm blankie. Will post on Sundays throughout December.

Dividers courtesy of saradika-graphics.

Part I

A thousand miles from nowhere, you grew weary of driving despite the scenic view of snow-dusted evergreens looming like sentinels along the barren stretch of highway. The old pickup your dad left you ate up the miles like an asphalt sandwich, its engine rumbling almost louder than the outdated radio as it struggled to stay tuned to the local stations. The scent of pine mixed with motor oil hung in the cab, a reminder of just how old the truck was and the amount of time you spent trapped in it so far.

If not for the irrational fear of flying, you’d already be in San Francisco, enjoying a cocktail at Pier 39, watching the sea lions as you killed time before your long-time client’s wedding.

Instead, you were twenty-seven hours into the cross-country trek with too many hours left to go and you had to pee so bad you could practically taste it. Shifting uncomfortably, you casted a glance at the towering mountains lining the valley, the sun fighting to peek through the lingering fog as it rose above the peaks. When traffic ground to a halt, a frustrated groan slipped past your lips, and you threw the transmission into park.

Popping the door open with a loud creak, you took the unexpected break as a sign to stretch your legs. The brisk air outside bit at your skin when you stepped out, breath forming small clouds that disappeared into the winter wind. You weaved between cars to the soundtrack of beeping horns and impatient shouts until coming upon the cause of the delay.

A trailer full of Christmas trees sat partially overturned, half its cargo scattered across the highway like some messed up holiday party. Among the chaos stood a man – tall, broad, and clad in a thick, well-worn flannel jacket that looked as rugged as the mountains behind him. The breeze caught his dark curls, tossing them across his forehead as he worked to pile the fallen trees back onto the trailer. Wholly unbothered by the flustered drivers glaring and honking at him, the man worked with steady, unrushed focus.

“Need any help?” you called out, slipping on a pair of leather gloves as you approached.

The man’s head snapped toward you at the sound of your voice, and he paused, brow loosening and a small smile pulling at his lips as warm brown eyes drank you in with a curious, amused glint. “I’d hate to ruin your pretty little outfit, darlin’.”

Your eyebrow arched. A playful smiled tugged at your lips as you stepped closer, snow crunching under your heeled boots. “You think my outfit’s pretty?”

His expression faltered for a split second, replaced by something warmer. “I think you’re pretty. The outfit’s just window dressing.” His grin widened as he added, “I’m Joel, by the way.”

Your laugh bubbled out, light and unexpected, cutting through the cold rhythmically. Joel’s gaze lingered on you, his cheeks tinged pink – not from the chill, but from something else entirely. Just as your gloved hands were about to clasp in a handshake, some asshole laid on his horn with a shout.

“Can you two get a room or something? Some of us have somewhere important to be!”

Turning to glare at the offender, you opened your mouth and the New Jersey in you came flying out. “Can it, dick cheese! Get off your fat ass and help if you’re in that much of a hurry!”

A bark of laughter drew your attention back to Joel as he shook his head in merry disbelief before going back to moving the trees. This time, you didn’t ask if he wanted help and bent to grab one of the smaller trees to lug it toward the trailer. The cold bit at your cheeks, breaking through your coat that was clearly more for style than warmth. The fresh scent of pine filled your lungs, as you hefted the tree back to the trailer.

Joel stood a few paces away with a larger tree slung over his broad shoulder, watching with an amused tilt of his head as you struggled past him.

“Aw come on, doll. You don’t have to do that.” His voice held a soft, almost pleading quality, but hidden behind that was a flicker of admiration as you ignored him and carried on despite the struggle. His expression shifted – half a smirk, half something deeper – as you hefted the tree onto the trailer and turned to fetch yet another one.

The pair of you continued working, Joel’s eyes flicking toward you now and then, lingering a little longer than they should. Around you, the chaos of impatient honking and shouts became nothing more than white noise.

A few others – including the mouthy asshole from earlier – seemed to get the hint that the roadway would clear quicker if they helped and within ten minutes, two of the travel lines were clear and traffic started to flow once again.

“Thanks for your help. You should probably get going, you look like you’re freezing,” Joel said as the last tree landed on the trailer and he pulled the tie down straps taut. “I’m gonna be here a while waiting for the tow truck. Can’t fix the trailer without some equipment.”

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Joel.” You shook Joel’s hand again, the heat from him worming its way through the material of your gloves, curling around you like the heat from a distant fire.

“You, too, darlin’.”

You hesitated, staring at each other for several long moments, not wanting to leave but you didn’t have a good enough excuse to stay. Flashing one last charming smile, you waved and sauntered back to your truck, which sat alone in the still blocked third lane.

The moment your truck refused to start, panic set in, swirling like winter wind in your chest. You hopped out again, popping the hood with more frustration than sense. Steam wafted from the still warm engine in thin, mocking wisps as you stared at the confusing labyrinth of parts comprising the engine compartment, entirely clueless. The frigid air nipped at your fingers and numbed your toes – why didn’t you dress appropriately knowing you’d be driving through a winter wonderland for half the journey.

The crunch of boots over the mix of ice and gravel sounded behind you, causing a shiver to wander down your spine. “I believe it’s my turn to offer a hand,” Joel said, his voice a deep rumble, sending a ripple of something straight to your core. When you turned, he was closer than you expected, his warm brown eyes softening as he took in your helpless shrug. “Let me take a look.”

He leaned over the engine, his broad and calloused hands moving deftly as though coaxing the old truck into cooperation. You caught yourself staring at the way his jaw clenched in concentration, the salt and pepper scruff along his jaw catching the light when he titled his head. Each frustrated grunt from him made your stomach flip, a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a while. Your thoughts began wandering in a certain direction as you eyed the breadth of him…

After a few fruitless minutes, Joel straightened, wiping his palms along the dark denim covering his legs before running one hand through his dark curls. The movement left his hair deliciously mussed, and you ached to run your own fingers through it.

“Can’t do much out here in the cold. Jimmy’s got the tools and parts we’d need back at his garage. Lemme just call him to give ‘em the heads up he’ll need to tow it back.”

As he spoke into his phone, explaining your plight to Jimmy, you realized how much you appreciated the way he said your name, drawing it out like something worth savoring. The way he stood close, his shoulders hunched slightly, broad body breaking the wind to protect you from the cold as much as he could, didn’t go unnoticed either.

“He’ll be here in a few,” Joel said once the call ended. “You can wait in my truck if you’re cold. I’ll give you a lift into town after.” Joel led you toward the shiny black four by four parked half on the shoulder, opening the door for you like a true country gentleman. Holding out a hand, he helped you climb up into the passenger seat as the sound of large tires on the rumble strip sounded behind you. “Up you get. That’ll be Jimmy. Feel free to start ‘er up and put the heat on. We’ll be done in no time.”

Your hands grasped the ring of keys and immediately stuck the right one into the ignition. The truck growled to life with a simple turn of your wrist and heat poured from the vents, carrying the heady scent of fresh-cut trees and sandalwood through the cab – his scent, you realized, and it was unexpectedly comforting. You adjusted in the seat, your fingers brushing over the fabric of a thick Carhart jacket slung over the headrest, as the warmth of the truck seemed to seep into your very core.

You had just pulled the jacket off the seat to wrap around yourself when Joel opened the driver-side door and climbed in, his movements fluid and unhurried. He glanced your way as he settled into the seat, the corners of his lips twitching upward when he noticed you bobbing your head along to Bing Crosby crooning over the radio.

“That was quick!” you exclaimed.

Joel’s chuckle was low and intimate. “Just needed the right leverage,” he said, resting his hands briefly on the heated steering wheel. His large, strong fingers flexed as though testing their strength after the labor. “Jimmy’s hooking up your truck now. He’ll be right behind us.”

You nodded, gaze drifting to his profile to drink in the sharp lines of his jaw and the pink tinge on his cheeks. Snow started falling outside as Joel shifted the truck into gear and began driving. As he steered the large truck down the highway, you caught a faint, amused glint in his eyes when he asked, “So, road-tripping for the holidays?”

The pair of you made easy conversation as he drove. You told him about your travel plans, and he told you about his farm. The miles passed in a blur before he signaled to take the next exit.

“Winterland?” you whispered upon seeing the welcome sign indicating the town’s name, the word slipping past your lips in wonder.

The small town of Winterland was like stepping into a Christmas card come to life. Lights twinkled on every storefront, reflections dancing off the snow-covered sidewalks. Wreaths adorned old gas-style lampposts, and the faint sound of holiday music drifted through the air from scattered outdoor speakers. Joel slowed the truck as he drove down Main Street, and you leaned closer to the window, the scene outside stealing your breath.

Joel glanced at you, warmth lighting his expression as he watched your awe unfold. “It grows on you,” he murmured, his voice almost too quiet to hear over the hum of the engine.

“You have got to be kidding me!” The urge to stomp your foot like a child nearly impossible to fight, you settled for a frustrated huff instead. “Nearly a week? Really?”

Jimmy the tow truck driver slash mechanic slash owner of the only gas station in town shrugged regretfully, one hand placed on the paunch pulling taut on his coveralls, the other stuck in his pocket. “Between the holidays and the weather, that’s the best my supplier could do. Parts for old trucks like that aren’t common, hon.”

“Can’t you order the parts from Amazon or something? They have two-day delivery!”

“Sorry, ma’am. I checked already and they’d have the same problems delivering the parts. That’s the downfall of small mountain towns, unfortunately, and it doesn’t get much smaller than Winterland.” Jimmy tried to smile, but it came across as more of a grimace on his grizzled face.

“Damn. Thanks for trying, Jimmy. I know you’re doing your best and I appreciate it.” Bumping your fist against the counter twice, you spun on your heels to leave only to turn back around. “Uh, is there like an inn or hotel or something nearby? I’m going to need a place to stay if the truck is going to take a week to fix.”

“That we do. The Millers run a small bed and breakfast down the road. It’s the only one in town. I’ll give you a ride in a minute.”

You waved him off. “That’s ok, I’ll just walk. It’ll give me the chance to take in the town.”

Jimmy eyed you doubtfully, questioning your clothing and footwear, which were clearly not suitable for the winter weather in the mountains. “If you say so, doll. You know it’s still snowing out, right?”

Five minutes later, you regretted brushing off Jimmy’s offer of a ride. Between the salt on the sidewalks, the falling snow, and the biting gusts of wind, dragging your rolling suitcase while trying to keep warm was a huge pain in the ass. That and you swore your toes were nothing more than little ice cubes attached to your feet.

When you finally reached the bed and breakfast, cleverly named the Evergreen House at Winterland, the scent of cinnamon and fresh-cut pine greeted you like an old friend. The cozy warmth of the lobby wrapped around you, the crackling fire in the hearth casting dancing shadows on the walls that mesmerized you.

Everything about this town, including its buildings and people, reminded you of Christmas. What was it like in the summer, you wondered.

“Hi there,” a friendly voice greeted you from down the hall and you glanced up to find a beautiful, dark-skinned woman walking toward you. Dressed in well-worn jeans and a thick ivory sweater, feet clad in fuzzy slippers, your own chilled, damp body quaked with jealousy over how comfortable and warm she looked. “You must be the new guest Jimmy told me to expect. I’m Maria.”

Replying with your name and a smile, you added, “I hope you have a room for me? I’m at a loss for where else to look if not.”

“Of course! We have the best room for you and plenty of food and drink to keep you sustained for as long as you need. What brings you to town?”

Maria led you up the rounded stairway as you shared the story of driving across the country and the old truck refusing to start after a delay on the highway. You spared her the details, though. She stopped in front of dark wooden door, a hand-carved sign on it reading “Blue Spruce”, and opened it to reveal a cozy sitting area and a large bed. “This is your room. We named all the rooms after Christmas trees. It was my husband’s idea – his brother owns the tree farm on the outskirts of town.”

Putting the pieces together, you asked, “Your husband is Joel’s brother?”

“You know Joel?” Maria inquired, brows arching curiously. She seemed delighted by that fact, judging by the smile slowly spreading across her lips.

“Well, yeah, I met him out on the highway. He’s the reason for the traffic jam and why I ended up here in Winterland rather than stranded somewhere else along the road.”

“Well, isn’t that serendipitous!” Maria replied with a clap of her hands. “Joel and Sarah are coming for dinner tonight. You’ll join us, of course.”

Maria’s excitement was infectious, and you smiled in return. You couldn’t help but wonder who Sarah was – a girlfriend or wife, probably, as your luck tended to go – and if Joel’s reaction to your unexpected reunion would be as enthusiastic as hers. Maria left you to get settled in and rest for a bit before dinner. You changed into something more comfortable for napping and barely laid down before something scratched at the door with a low whine.

“What in the world?” you murmured as you shuffled toward the door. A golden retriever sat waiting for you, tongue lolling and a Santa-themed bandana around its neck. “Well, hello there. Who might you be?”

The dog trotted right past you like he owned the place, and you spotted the name Barkley printed on the bandana as he went by. “Barkley, huh? The Miller family really went all in on the Christmas tree charm, didn’t they?”

Barkley jumped on the bed and whined, clearly begging you to let him nap there. Giggling softly, you shut the door and climbed back under the covers, falling asleep with Barkley snuggled right up to your side like your own personal radiator.

tbc

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

ask for a dance. l Joel Miller

Summary: some things have changed between you, although maybe they haven't changed at all

Warnings:  a little bit of angst, blood, crying, fluff (just a little)

A/N: your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

#2/2

The silence in that cursed house was deafening, or at least that was the impression Joel had. When he took you back to the building where you were staying, he secured the door tightly and made sure you were okay. Your hands were still shaking and you were dizzy, but you made your way to the bathroom on your own.

Your reflection in the mirror was terrifying and if you weren't sure it was really you... The blood of the man Joel had killed had already congealed on your face and hair, but not only there. 

You almost ripped off your shirt, which was still hanging on by the last button, and turned on the tap.

After a moment filled with a strange gurgling in the pipes, the water began to run. It was icy cold, but you barely felt it. 

You wanted to get rid of the crimson marks from your skin as quickly as possible, only after a while did you realize that your cheeks were also wet from your warm tears.

He heard it. He heard your sobbing and his heart broke into pieces again. He remembered perfectly what happened once when he found you sitting in the bathtub, now it was all happening again.

"Hey, it's okay."

A warm hand stroked your back and rested on the back of your neck. A quiet sob shook your body. You wiped your face from the tears.

"I'm sorry..." you groaned "I shouldn't have."

Joel sighed "Of course you should. And I'm here with you."

He was and wanted to be there for you, just like you always were for him. After a few minutes, the crying calmed down, and he patiently stroked your shoulders.

"We should go back to Jackson." You finally said in a hoarse voice "If we're late, they'll think something happened to us."

He nodded and after a moment handed you something. "Put this on. Your shirt... I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"Thank you."

You smiled weakly and pulled on the shirt that Joel wore under his shirt. It didn't take you long to gather your things and set off to Jackson. 

You barely spoke. Joel glanced at you every now and then, trying to keep an eye on you in case you needed help, but you walked resolutely, as if filled with the thought that you wanted to be in a safe space already.

After a few hours, when you stood at the edge of the forest and in the distance you saw the walls of Jackson, he finally heard your voice.

"I haven't thanked you yet..."

He looked at you and smiled slightly, "You know you don't have to. I'll do anything for you."

You nodded.

"Sometimes I think that all this has changed us so much that our loved ones wouldn't recognize us anymore."

He lowered his gaze. There was something in those words. Joel hesitated himself, but finally answered.

"That's why we have each other, right? To keep our senses."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

You entered Jackson arm in arm, but your lateness was noticed and soon Tommy was at the gate to ask what was the cause. Joel told him everything. Maybe he wasn't happy that Walsh was right next to you and showed obvious concern, but Joel didn't let anything show on his face.

"You should rest." Tommy said after a moment. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." You replied trying to sound convincing.

"I'll walk her." Walsh added.

"Thanks, Shane."

You smiled slightly at Joel again and headed towards where your apartment was. For a long moment he watched you walk away with Shane by your side.

"You allowed it, dude." Tommy muttered, patting him lightly on the back. "Go back to your place. Rest."

But Joel wasn't sure he was able to rest in this empty and quiet house.

He knew the song even though he thought his brain had long since forgotten it. Despite everything, the words formed in his head as if he had only heard it yesterday.

Joel had never been a fan of these dances. Of course, the community had to integrate and spend time together, maybe he would feel like it too someday. 

Whatever party was going on in Jackson, Joel only went there because of you. You could follow him for so long that he would finally give in. To tell the truth, he wanted to say "Yes, I'd love to go with you" with your first request, but he really liked teasing you. Sometimes he was the one telling you about these dances, he loved seeing your eyes widen with joy.

And here he was, clutching a bottle of beer, listening to the other men's conversations and looking around the room hoping that he would finally see you.

"She'll come," Shane said, smiling, "She promised me that."

He didn't like that statement, but there was nothing he could do. Walsh was younger than him, around forty, women liked him, but somehow it was you who caught his eye. 

Joel had known that for some time. He had noticed Shane's gaze when you were nearby. No wonder, you were beautiful, even he wasn't blind, and others must have noticed it too.

Eventually Walsh and another man decided to join a group of people playing darts and Joel was left alone again.

He felt a familiar shiver on his back when you touched him and smiled to himself.

"You kept me waiting for a long time." he mumbled.

"You really waited for me, Miller? I'm surprised I even see you here." you replied, not hiding your mirth as you stood in front of him. "I thought you didn't like places like this."

"You know..." Joel shrugged. "A certain pushy girl is always pestering me to go there, to socialize with people."

"Oh!" you raised your eyebrows.

"Of course I mean Ellie."

"Of course." You bit your lip and looked around.

Joel was pleased to see that you were in quite good shape. Your eyes were full of life again, you were even smiling at him.

"Will you dance with me?" he suggested when the song changed to a slightly calmer one.

And that smile again. "With pleasure."

It was wonderful to be able to hold you in his arms again. Your chest against his, your fingers playing with the curly hair falling on his neck. Joel had the impression that you felt it too - this was your place.

"Listen..." he began quietly as you slowly turned to the words of some song that he could barely hear anymore. "I want you to know that no matter what happens, I will always... Always be there for you."

He felt you hold your breath.

"Joel..." you started slowly, but he didn't want you to finish, he wanted to finally get it all out. He wanted to get rid of this burden.

"I know I hurt you. I was an asshole..." he said quietly, straight into your ear "I was afraid that if we were close, you would become another person I would lose. But you were already more than that. I'm sorry. I should have found more courage, you always had it."

"Joel." you lightly squeezed his hand "Sometimes I think it's a miracle that we found each other in this fucked up world. Or maybe it's just a stupid joke... Despite everything, no matter what happens I..."

"Hey! Can I ask her to dance?" Walsh's laughing voice rang out beside you and someone patted Joel on the back "I didn't notice when you came!"

"I..." you started, but Joel had already let go of you and only then did you realize that a different song had been playing for some time.

You didn't have time to say anything more when Shane pulled you in the other direction, you only managed to throw a quick glance at Joel and the world spun before your eyes.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist

[milla-frenchy]

Wow, this chapter 😍😍😍

You feign sleep just to feel the brush of his knuckles over your cheek, thumb tracing your lips.  A warm wash of something fond rushes through him. It ain’t love, he knows that. Isn’t sure it ever will be, isn’t sure he’s even capable anymore. But whatever it is fizzes like goosebumps under his skin.  “Y’ain’t foolin’ me,” he murmurs, soft and low. You crack the tiniest, crooked smile and press a kiss to his thumb.

The beauty of this, damn...

Any other thoughts are lost as you nuzzle your cheek against his balls, peppering tbem with gentle kisses and little kitten licks. He groans, pulling one leg back to make room for you to settle in, to make a little nest for yourself to do as you please. And he’s more than happy to let you do as you please with his body. As far as he’s concerned, it’s all for you. Oh, God, especially if you keep doing that. He moans as you cradle his balls, feeding them gently into the warm cavern of your mouth.  “Fuuuck,” he groans, head tipping back, hand cupping your cheek.

This ball worship is one of the hottest i have ever read 🥵🥵🥵

“Baby. Darlin’, please,” he begs, unabashed. You’re the only one he’d plead for. Only one in the world he’d give himself to like this. After all, you’ve given him everything. Everything that you are, everything that you’ll ever be, it’s all his now. It’s only fair if you have all of him in return.

You have no idea how much I love this 😍😍😍

But he watches you go. He regrets it immediately. 

Oh man... oh fuckkkkkk

You meet Joel’s eyes from the corner of yours, and somehow, somehow, he knows what you’re not asking. He bares his teeth, snarling, and you lunge. Your teeth sink into the raider’s arm before he can get his dick out, and you show no fucking mercy.  Joel howls, loud and nasty, a threat, as you bite down hard. You’ve never bitten a person before, let alone hard enough to break skin. Oh, and you do. You’re merciless. Your first act of real violence and it’s brutal. Hot, coppery blood floods around your teeth and you pull away, spitting repeatedly.

And THIS!!! omg, this is amazing!!! I almost howled too 😂😂

of rage and ruin - chapter seven

chapter seven

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 3.1k

summary: the fog clears, the morning comes, and you and joel must reckon with what you've done.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), body horror, viewer discretion is advised, attempted sexual assault (NOT by joel, very unsuccessful)

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

When you woke some hazy amount of time later, after the last of the heat had burned through your veins, you were curled up against his side. One decidedly human finger, blunt nail and all, was tracing over the curve of your cheek and temple. The rest of the hand followed, brushing over your head and leaving your scalp tingling in its wake. 

You feign sleep just to feel the brush of his knuckles over your cheek, thumb tracing your lips. 

A warm wash of something fond rushes through him. It ain’t love, he knows that. Isn’t sure it ever will be, isn’t sure he’s even capable anymore. But whatever it is fizzes like goosebumps under his skin. 

“Y’ain’t foolin’ me,” he murmurs, soft and low.

You crack the tiniest, crooked smile and press a kiss to his thumb. He pushes it between your lips, which part easily for him. He groans as you stroke it with your tongue, suckling on him and tasting the lingering tart salt of where he’d touched you both. 

“Thought you were all tuckered out.” The words are more of a rumble from his chest than anything, but you’re close enough to make sense of it. 

“Mmm,” you agree sleepily. But you’d be lying if you said the last tendrils of arousal weren’t far more interesting than your fatigue. His thumb is good, but it’s not what you want. 

He chuckles, drawing the digit from your lips, which turn down into a pout. He pinches your bottom lip gently. “None o’ that, darlin’,” he says. “F’you want it, I ain’t gonna stop ya.”

You don’t need to be told twice. 

You help yourself to a seat across his legs and take a moment to just splay yourself across his body, head on his shoulder. The hard, insistent length of his cock is trapped between your soft stomachs and you can feel a thin, sticky trail of his arousal. 

Your lips find his neck in tender, open-mouthed kisses, more intent than finesse. They’re sloppy, a lazy pursuit of his flesh in your mouth as you suck and bite and let the marshmallow fluff that is what’s left of your insides bubble up with the rising warmth of affection, as if you might become full of it otherwise and pop like the Stay Puft Man. 

Nobody wants that, so you cover Joel in the sticky sweetness of your growing fondness. 

There’s none of the urgency, none of the clawing for purchase, the pursuit of teeth and flesh. It’s languid in a way your life hasn’t allowed for in a long, long time. 

The hazy afterglow is intoxicating, and just as neither of you are ignorant to what will come later, neither of you are in a rush to get to it. Let the guilt and hurt and confusion wait. There’s enough time for that. 

No, now is for the last vestiges of easy intimacy. No shame as you lap at his skin, tasting the musk of him, kissing his chest and the thick muss of hair that leads to your prize. 

You take time to kiss his thighs, no more teeth or sharpness to you. His hand finds your head but doesn’t pry or push or guide. It just rests, another point of connection between you, an almost sorrowful attempt to keep the threads that bind you intact. 

The fact that they can never be broken, now, is a conversation for later. Not that you understand, really. There’s a thrum to the wound on your shoulder, a steady throb of alpha, but he knows you don’t really know. That the gravity of what he’s done to you is beyond your reach right now. 

He’s selfish, though, and tucks it away for later. It’ll be hard enough. He steals this moment, greedy for this interval where you don’t fear him anymore and you don’t hate him, yet. 

Because he can’t imagine you’ll ever forgive what he did. What he’s taken from you. What he’s going to keep taking. 

But for now, you’re content to be his, if only for this moment, and he’s painfully aware of how rare content moments are in this world. The wolf wouldn’t dare let him sour your scent with rejection or neglect. And there’s a part of the man, too, that needs this, even if he can’t cope with that yet. 

And he does. Need this, that is. Need you, here, safe and soft and satiated. There’s no pretending you aren’t in hell, with his back pressed against the cold tile walls as he holds you on the world’s tiniest mattress with the flimsy fleece blanket falling from your nude body. It doesn’t cover him but he doesn’t care, doesn’t need it. Hasn’t had the luxury of something like a blanket in years, now, and you, you’re delicate even if you aren’t. Delicate to him while still so strong, with all you have and are and will endure. 

His body could snap yours in an instant. His body could, but he could never. Not you. Not his perfect, precious girl. Never mind that he doesn’t really know you. He knows this you, the one that’s his. And he’ll learn the rest. 

Because there’s nowhere on this wretched earth you could hide from him now. The gentle throb of your own mark on him makes sure of that. He will always find you. His girl. His omega. 

His. 

Any other thoughts are lost as you nuzzle your cheek against his balls, peppering tbem with gentle kisses and little kitten licks. He groans, pulling one leg back to make room for you to settle in, to make a little nest for yourself to do as you please. And he’s more than happy to let you do as you please with his body. As far as he’s concerned, it’s all for you. Oh, God, especially if you keep doing that. He moans as you cradle his balls, feeding them gently into the warm cavern of your mouth. 

“Fuuuck,” he groans, head tipping back, hand cupping your cheek.

His balls are musky with three days of dried cum and sweat, but it’s ambrosia. You can’t get enough, nose buried between his cock and sac, licking at them like a velvet delicacy. It’s still not enough. Maybe nothing will be enough, but you take one in your mouth, rolling it on your tongue and groaning. They’re already swollen, heavy, and heady. 

It’s still not enough, so you use your hand to help accommodate both.   

He can’t help but buck his hips a little when he feels the way your cheeks bulge, stuffed so full of his balls as you lick and suck so gently, almost reverently. “Ah, darlin’, please,” he gasps when your hand curls around his shaft, tightly at the base and squeezes. 

You take pity on him and press a kiss to each ball before pulling away to suck little tiny kisses along the underside of his cock. His thighs tense around you, holding so, so still so he doesn’t jerk and hurt you. The wolf is quiet, the worries are quiet, it’s just you. You and him. 

His heels dig into the mattress, every line of his body taut. He’s not even sure what form he’s in anymore, because it doesn’t fucking matter. The only thing that matters is your hot mouth as you ease the fat tip of his aching cock between your lips, a tight seal locking him in like it’s his knot in your cunt. You suck without mercy, tongue lapping at him, the rest of his cock neglected as you orchestrate this sweet torture. 

His fist falls from you to smack against the mattress, nails digging into his palm as he swears low and slow. 

“Baby. Darlin’, please,” he begs, unabashed. You’re the only one he’d plead for. Only one in the world he’d give himself to like this. After all, you’ve given him everything. Everything that you are, everything that you’ll ever be, it’s all his now. It’s only fair if you have all of him in return.

And, oh, you take all of him. One inch at a time, you take all of him into heaven, your throat pried open by his girth. It’s not an easy task, but you’ve devoted yourself to it. He wouldn’t have minded if you couldn’t; knows he’s not an easy man to accommodate. Would have still lost his goddamn mind in the embrace of your mouth and caress of your tongue.

But you’re determined, and he’s soon to learn you ain’t a quitter. Not when you want somethin’. And he learns that when his cock hits the back of your throat, and you gag, fingers digging into his thighs as you hold on for leverage, but you don’t fuckin’ back down.

“Tha’s it,” he breathes, a shuddery gasp as he feels you constrict around him, choking his cock like it’s choking you. “So good, honey. So fuckin’ good to me.” 

It takes an effort on your part that he feels deeply guilty about to bring him to orgasm. To be fair, he’s not getting any younger, and he’d spilled load after load into your greedy pussy during your heat. But he sees that steadfast determination again as he offers to finish with his hand, and you shoot him a nasty, reproachful look, smacking his hand away like he’s tried to take a bowl away from a starving mutt. 

For all that you complain about omegas being just extra-wet humans, he can see the feral wolf behind your eyes. Sure, you’ll never turn. It’s not in your nature, the physical change. But you’re on the same leash as him, really. 

He cups your cheek as you swallow him down, a strained whine seeping from gritted teeth as he spills down your throat. His mind goes to white and static and you. 

He guides you off his softening cock, and you scoot up to rest your head on his belly. One hand idly plays with the hair scattered there, while one of his traces lazy spirals on your shoulder. 

You blink lazily up at him, and that’s the only way he realizes he’s gone half wolf. The possessive beast can’t stay away, and to his very human chagrin, he leans down and licks your face from chin to cheek before lapping at the mark on your shoulder. It’s already healing, but just for good measure. 

Since you arrived, Joel had spent more time human than he had in the last three years combined. It was a constant effort, when he did. To remember. To be gentle. To be… exposed. 

He had stayed carefully delineated, either man or wolf. 

He can’t really maintain it anymore. But you don’t seem to mind. Don’t seem to mind when his muzzle stretches, when the hair gets thicker all over his body. When his teeth sharpen, or his claws. 

No, you don’t seem to mind at all. 

You sigh softly, and it’s achingly affectionate. You’re still hazy, floating in the afterglow of your heat, all sweet submission and peace. He wants to burrow you away somewhere, keep you cozy and hidden away from the cruelty of your life. 

“It fuckin’ stinks in here,” groans one of the men you call the Idiot Twins. 

Joel snarls, brought to humiliation for the second time in ten minutes as he realizes he was too caught up in you to hear someone come down. 

Two someones. It’s both of them this time, laden with trays of food to make up for the days you went without. His, as usual, is piled high with thick cuts of raw meat and starchy vegetables.

Yours, though, makes him scowl. Just broth, it’s always just fuckin’ broth, the stock leftover from the meat they cook for themselves. That or oatmeal. 

The raiders keep up a banter about the smell of sex and sweat that permeates the cellar now. One starts up lewd comments about your bare body, and Joel growls, hackles raising. 

He tries to ignore them and hands you a bowl of roasted potatoes when one of them suddenly slams his baton against the door. “No,” he says. “That ain’t for her. Drop it, bitch.”

“I’ll give her my food if I fuckin’ want,” Joel sneers.

“You’ll keep to your own trays, or she’s goin’ back across the hall. We ain’t wastin’ that on your little whore.” 

You put a hand on Joel’s arm. “It’s not worth it,” you mutter. “I’m fine.” As if he can’t hear your stomach rumble most of the time. As if he hasn’t noticed the general malaise about you, as you scrape by on literal scraps.

You can feel the rumble of his discontent but he snaps his mouth shut, jaw working overtime. 

“Speaking of,” one of the men says, a sharp smirk growing. “C’mere, bitch.”

Joel bristles again and you try to ignore him. 

“I said come here,” Tall, Dumb, and Ugly repeats. “Now. Or you’re gonna get it good.” He taps his baton against the bars. 

When he calls you over, something prickles, rankling the hair on the back of his neck. It’s probably nothing. It’s probably wash day. It’s probably something normal.

But it doesn’t feel like it.

He watches you go, resisting the urge to pull you back to him, to tuck you close to his body, to keep you where no one can see you behind his bulk.

But he watches you go.

He regrets it immediately. 

“Down on your knees, hands behind your head,” the thug barks, but he doesn’t wait. He pushes you down, and one hand grabs the back of your neck. 

The other goes to his belt. 

Joel’s off his ass and at the gate in an instant, but he can’t reach. He can only watch as you try to rear back.

“Hey, man, I dunno if that’s a good idea,” says the other raider, to the surprise of everyone.

“Jim keeps a girl. Chris keeps a girl. We ain’t allowed, but the fuckin’ pet gets a pet? Nah, man. I’m gettin’ my share.” 

You meet Joel’s eyes from the corner of yours, and somehow, somehow, he knows what you’re not asking. He bares his teeth, snarling, and you lunge.

Your teeth sink into the raider’s arm before he can get his dick out, and you show no fucking mercy. 

Joel howls, loud and nasty, a threat, as you bite down hard. You’ve never bitten a person before, let alone hard enough to break skin.

Oh, and you do. You’re merciless. Your first act of real violence and it’s brutal. Hot, coppery blood floods around your teeth and you pull away, spitting repeatedly.

The man is screaming, clutching his arm, demanding that his compatriot do something, but the other raider is backing away slowly. 

There’s a clattering of heavy boots down the stairs, and Jim comes around the corner with his pistol raised. 

“No!” Joel yells, reaching for you as you scramble back to where he can reach you. 

“Get in there,” Jim snaps at the man you bit.

“Fuckin’ shoot her; she bit me,” he argues.

“Get in there, or I’ll shoot you,” Jim barks. 

The accomplice and another man who’d come with Jim grab the injured motherfucker by the arms and throw him in what used to be your prison across the hall. Jim hauls you up by the elbow and points the gun at Joel, who backs away immediately. 

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t blow her fuckin’ brains out,” he hisses.

“I made her do it,” Joel says quickly. “I made her bite him. He was trying to touch what’s mine.”

“Tch,” Jim sneers. “Bullshit.”

“You fuckin’ listen to me, Jim,” Joel snarls around his fangs. “I told her to do it, and she’s my omega. Don’t you know she gotta listen to me? She can’t tell me no.” 

Jim hesitates, glowering. The pistol knocks a little whimper from you, pressing against the side of your head.

“I’m serious,” Joel pushes. “Everyone fuckin’ knows omegas can’t disobey a direct order.”

That’ll do it. He knows Jim hates to be made to look stupid. 

“Fine,” Jim says gruffly. Joel backs away so Jim can open the door, tossing you inside.

“Watch him,” he says to one of his henchmen, jerking a head to the door across the hall. 

“What? Why?”

“Because we don’t know if her bite can turn him. Watch him. If he starts actin’ funny, call me.”

You’re not really sure how he got you over to the mattress without your notice, but he’s there, crowding over you, hands patting your face, turning your head to inspect your neck, running down your arms. He’s meticulous, and you sit still for it, in a bit of a daze.

“E-everything happened so fast,” you whisper eventually, and his hands come up to cup your cheeks. 

“Wasn’t your fault. You did good. You did so good,” he says, pulling you close. 

“He was gonna…”

“I know. I know, darlin’.”

His heart beats steady under your ear, one large palm cradling your head there and the other keeping you tucked in close. He rocks you a little, though you don’t think he knows he’s doing it. The gravel and rumble of his voice, his assurances that should be patronizing, his sharp claws so close to your delicate flesh, it should all have you pushing away.

But you don’t. Instead, you wrap your arms around his chest and burrow in, eyes squeezed shut tight against the burn and sting of residual fear. 

“Were you telling the truth?” you ask quietly after a while.

“Hmm?” 

“About the whole obeying orders thing. Can you… force me to do things?”

He snorts. “Course not. But he bought it, didn’t he? Doesn’t know a damn thing.”

The answer sits unsteady between your ribs. You want to believe him. You do. But you can’t forget the way his words make you feel sometimes, like you’re moving through sludge, like you’re drawn to him by some cosmic leash. 

You want to believe him.

But you don’t.

[pedrosgrogu]

Born Too Late - Chapter 9

pairing/au: neighbor!joel x reader // no outbreak

Chapter 8 - Chapter 10 (coming soon) - Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI!!, smut, angst, angryyyyyy joel, sad reader (shes just like me fr), alcohol consuption 

Summary: After making some happy mistakes with Tommy, you try and work through many complex feelings surrounding him and his brother. (1.9k+) 

a/n: TOMMY MILLER THE MAN THAT YOU ARE <3. anyways, thanksgiving is about to go crazy, and the turkey aint the only thing getting stuffed iykyk. again, its all a part of my vision. my master plan if you will. just stick with it. probs another chapter tomorrow or tuesday, dont want overwhelm the masses. xoxoxo p.s. i didn t proofread so excuse any mistakes

You can taste his cigarette from the walk over. The next 10 minutes are a blur. Your shirt is in thrown in the floor and he leaves a trail of kisses from your collarbone to your lips. You sling your lower half onto his lap and his fingers are gliding the length of your body. You can feel how hard he is, which leads to a pool in your own pants. “You’re so beautiful” he says, gasping, like hes choking on his own words. You throw your lips back onto his, running your hands through his hair. His fingers working effortlessly to unhook your bra. It falls to the floor and he strokes your breast. You throw your head back, a small moan escaping. His lips leave yours, but before you can protest, hes swirling his tongue around your nipple, sucking and nipping it. His blown pupils staring you down while he does it. Another moan, this one louder, escapes your mouth. “Tommy please. Need you.” you say, barely able to form a sentnece. He throws you on the couch, jerking your pants off before his own, his shirt going with them. Before you can plead for more, his tongue is writing novels in between your folds and his thumb is circling your clit. He’s lapping up your spill like a dog that hasn’t had water in days. You’re on the brink of climax, you can feel it. You’re seeing white and you hearing is gone. All your senses are focused on your orgasm. You’re fingers pulling Tommy’s hair “Please. Dont. St-” KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. Not again. “Tommy dont stop, please dont stop.” And he doesnt. His mouth moves to your clit and his fingers are in and out of you. You can hear the squeltching of his saliva and your juices combining, and being finger fucked into you. You scream in pleasure, your back arches and your toes curl with intensity. His lips are back on your cunt, devouring your release. 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK 

You’re trying to come down. Trying to regulate your breathing. Trying to work through what just happened. Trying to figure out who is at the door, because the only 2 people you speak to are either in your house, or avoiding you. Tommy throws you your shirt and pants with a wink. You laugh, putting them both back on but leaving your bra off. Tommys shirts on, and pants are coming up. You look in the mirror by the door, trying to make your hair look not like sex hair. KNOCK KNO- and you open the door. “Can I help-?” and you look up to an obviously pissed Joel. But hes looking past you. He’s looking at his brother tighten his belt. He’s looking at your bra on the floor. His eyes go black with rage. “Tommy.” Tommy looks up, the color draining from his face. “You need to come home. NOW.” Joel grunts, not even looking at you. He pulls the door from your hands, and it slams. You turn around, shaking, tears beginning to fall again. “What have I done?” you whisper. Tommy looks at you. His mouth is open but no words come out. “Tommy, I think you need to leave.” You say, staring blankly at him. He nods his head and out the door he goes. 

The rest of the afternoon is gloomy. Not the weather, but your mood. You shower and throw on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt and contemplate your decisions over the last 12 hours. You replay the entire day from start to finish. Joel not acknowledging your existence, the emotional baggage of your family, Tommy. Tommy. You feel sick, but not because of Tommy. Because of what transpired after Tommy. The events leading up to Tommy are becoming clear again. He chased after you, not Joel. He came to make sure you were okay, not Joel. He wiped your tears and consoled you, not Joel. You sigh, remembering the broken glass on your porch. You grab a broom and go out to sweep it up. You look across the street and Tommys truck still in Joel’s driveway. You look left and Joel’s outside, standing against his truck staring in the direction of your house. You keep your head low, too ashamed to look at him. You decide right then that you will not, under any circumstances, be spending Thanksgiving with the Millers tomorrow. Even though you aren’t going, you still want more wine. You drop the broom inside the door and grab your keys off the wall. Walking to your car, Joel is still staring at you. You dump the dustpan of glass in the trash and get in the car, throwing it in drive and heading to the nearest grocery store. 

You get back and the Miller’s house is dark. Both Tommy and Joel’s trucks are gone, and no lights are on. You sigh, grabbing the 2 bottles of wine and the dustpan from your front seat. Walking into your cool and dark house, the smell of Tommy still lingering. You text Penny, because honestly you don’t want to be alone right now. After you pour yourself a glass of wine, you turn the TV on. You flip through your DVR looking for your recording of Brokeback Mountain, you and Pennys guilty pleasure and comfort film. 

You’re about halfway through when your phone rings. You’ve learned your lesson about not checking caller ID so this time you look. Its Tommy. “Hey Tommy. Whats up?” you say, desperately hoping to hear Joel instead. “Hey lady” he says gently. You smile, regardless of what happened earlier, he’s always been a sweethear to you. Intentional or not. “I just wanted to make sure you were still coming tomorrow?” you sit in silence, not sure of what to say. Not sure of what transpired at the Miller home once Tommy went home. Not sure of- “You there?” he interrupts your thought process. “Tommy, Im not sure if thats a good idea. Joel looked- “I already talked to Joel. He said he doesn’t care, and Sarah was really lookin’ forward to seein’ ya.” he says gently. You sigh. “Tommy, really I dont know. I need to think about it.” “Okay, I understand.” he says. Just as you’re about to tell him you need to go, he speaks. “Do you want to talk about earlier?” Another sigh is exasperated from your lungs, and your head is in your hands. “Im going to say this as respectfully as I can Tommy” you choke out. “You caught me in a very weak and emotional moment. It isn’t your fault, and Im not mad. But it cannot happen again. Obviously, I care about you, and I thoroughly enjoy your presence, and thoroughly enjoyed our time together earlier, but Im just not in a good place right now to be with someone in that capacity. I wouldnt ever want to ruin our friendship. I also don’t want Joel to be pissy about his daughters teacher sleeping with is brother.”. By the end of the schpiel, you’re almost in tears again but you try to hide it with a laugh. You have no idea what the fuck is going on with your emotional state, but it needs to re-fucking-evaluate itself and get back on track. “I completely understand. And I want you to know that theres no hard feelings. If it means anything, you aren’t causing a rift between me and Joel. He did that to himself.” a puzzled look plasters across your face, and Tommy must sense it. “Tommy, what are you talking about?” “Im talking about the fact that my brother is a grown ass man but doesnt know how to use his fuckin’ words.” its silent. “The rift is because he assumes that we had sex, because he heard those pretty noises you were makin for me.” You roll your eyes and shake your head, thinking back to mere hours ago when you were sceaming his name, coming undone on his fingers and face. “I promise, he ain’t mad at you. He just doesn’t know how to speak about anything other than Sarah and football.” silence again. “Tommy, just let me think about it.” you muster out. “Okay sugar. Ill see ya tomorrow.” and the line goes dead. 

Penny eventually texts you. She apologizes for how long it took, and says shes in the middle of the Yucatan Peninsula working on a site, and has little to no cell service. She says she flys back to Ireland on Saturday and she’ll call you. You sigh, taking this as a sign to go to bed early. Still no decision made about tomorrow. 

Thanksgiving Day comes early. You toss and turn all night, unsure of what to do. You get up and check your phone. Nothing else from Penny, or Tommy. But there is something from Joel, and its from fucking 3:47 a.m. 

Joel: You’re still coming tomorrow right? Just trying to figure out how much of each side to make. And Sarah was askin.

The butterflies are back, but you cant tell if they’re the happy kind, or the anxious kind. 

You: Hey. Yes, Im still coming. Is that okay? I think we should talk at some point today if we have the time. 

Joel: Yes, its fine. No need to talk. Just wanted to make sure my headcount was right. Dinner is at 3:30. 

Headcount? Its just his brother and daughter and you. What is he talking about? You shake your head, trying to forget about it. Heading to the kitchen, you grab your sweet potatoes off the counter and begin to peel and boil them, checking them with a fork every so often to gauge if theyre done yet. Once finished, you dice them and add them to your kitchen aid mixer along with some brown sugar, butter, pureed pumpkin, pecans, and a touch of maple syrup. Mixing all the ingredients together until you get the right consistency. You put it in the fridge until you’re ready to put it in the oven. You plop on the couch, finishing Brokeback Mountain, crying like you always do at the end of that damn movie. Ennis and Jack deserved better. 

You fall asleep and wake up around 1:30. You turnthe TV off and head to the kitchen, preheating the oven to 375. You run and take a quick shower, making sure no part of your body goes untouched by your razor. Although nothings going to happen, its instinctual when you know you’re going to see Joel. You hop out and throw it in the oven to warm it back up. 

You pick out a pair of black leggings and a baggy maroon off the shoulder sweater. They pair nicely with your Doc Martens. You lay it out on your bed and dry your hair. You quickly throw some rollers in and pin it up, running to check the potatoes. Not quite warm yet, you go back in your room for makeup. You do a light smokey eye, with light false lashes, and a little blush. Nothing too crazy. You carefully pull your sweater on over your curlers and accent with gold jelwey. You pull the potatoes out and sprinkle marshmallows on them. You turn the oven on broil and set a 2 minute timer, careful to not burn the marshmallows, just toast them. You quickly lace your boots up, and pull the potatoes out when the timer dings. You run back into your bathroom and gently take your curlers out, spraying each one as the fall down, styling each curl perfectly so they bounce with every step. Its 3:00. You grab your dish and head next door. 

[cavillscurls]

wherever you stray, i’ll follow

alpha!joel miller x omega f!reader

Joel resents the choice to allow an unmated omega into Jackson—until he’s the only one who can help her feel at home.

warnings/tags: MDNI. Jackson era. Joel’s POV. Alternate universe: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics. Implied Soulmates. Alpha!Joel. Omega!Reader. SoftDom!Joel. Sub!Reader. Enemies-ish to lovers. Grumpy x Sunshine. Joel is emotionally constipated. Unspecified age gap. Stereotypical gender roles. Fluff. Angst. Self-flagellation. Poor coping & communication skills. Explicit smut. Dub-con elements due to the nature of heats, but everything is explicitly consented to. Size kink/size difference—Joel is huge in this, like 6’5, thick, broad, and burly. Reader has pubic hair. Pet names. Dirty talk. Scenting/scent marking. Man-handling. Fingering. Squirting. Drinking bodily fluids. Oral (f receiving). Multiple orgasms, somewhat uncontrolled. Unprotected PIV. Tummy buldge. Knotting. Breeding kink. Pregnancy implications. Adult Alpha!Ellie, Beta!Tommy, & Alpha!Maria make an appearance. Ambiguous-ish ending. wc: 10.7k

➻ a/n: this fic has been a long time coming & means so, so much to me. this won’t be for everyone, & that’s ok. i pictures game!joel for majority of this, but he is left to your imagination as always. thank you to @kiwisbell for beta reading and supporting me during the writing process. any feedback is so appreciated enjoy. x

playlist | fic inspo tag | read it on ao3 | main masterlist

Tommy Miller had always been the foolish brother, but even Joel found his particular lack of cautiousness that night out of the ordinary. 

There were three members. What was left of a pack, likely separated or raided. They had entered the walls of Jackson that fateful evening—the walls Joel and his brother happened to be manning—dirty and famished, overly emotional and outwardly grateful for the sanctuary. The first two, an elderly woman and a teenage boy, betas. He could tell just by the way they walked, the monotonous way they carried themselves, crossing the threshold of their haven with Maria at the helm of the herd. 

“The boy’ll be a good addition to routes, whenever he’s old enough,” Tommy had remarked. Ever the optimist, too keen on seeing the good in people to even acknowledge the risk that was posed every time another body came through those gates. 

And a risk it was. 

Joel Miller had experienced a fair share of fear in his life. Real, unadulterated fear, enough to bring a grown man to his knees despite his efforts to rise above it. A fear contrived by something entirely out of his control, forces working against the walls he’d built around himself, the rough exterior that fought, and bled, and killed, and protected. But the fear he felt that ghastly night remained unlike any other. It was entirely from within, something deeply embedded in himself. Fear, once harnessed as a means of survival, reduced to a shackle, left entirely at its disposal. It rose from his toes into his head where his ears rang and his face burned. 

Time stalled. His senses were numb to everything but this walking force of nature that, at first glance, was an indiscernible canvas of shivering limbs. But as it drew closer, the details were impossible to avoid. The shape of lips and sad eyes. The foreboding sound of a beating heart. Oxygen was no longer a necessity of survival, but vanilla and lilac and something so distinctly, uniquely sweet became the vice in his lungs. 

And it happened so fast, the way fear turned to panic and panic into anger—angry that he had no control or say over how the thing inside of him responded to the thing emerging before him. Powerless. He watched at a standstill as each body lining the wall stiffened upon your entrance. Even his brother, whose composure hardly faltered, could be heard inhaling a sharp breath of disbelief.

Omega. 

She isn’t stopping. Why isn’t she stopping? 

Joel’s eyes shot toward Maria, her indomitable gaze remaining forward on the parting doors. He had to fight the sudden urge to jump the gate over how seemingly unfazed she looked. His sister-in-law was a lot of things, but foolish wasn’t one of them. How could she be so foolish? 

A question left unspoken, unanswered, because his body was not his own. The sound of pounding rattled in his chest, blaring in his ears. A flame ignited. A switch flipped. The world as he knew it became mute to the battling voice that rang inside his head. 

Why isn’t she stopping? What is she doing here? It’s not real. There’s no more. There’s not supposed to be any more. It’s cold. It’s too cold, she’s not wearing a proper jacket. Where’s her jacket? She can’t be here. She’s not allowed to be here. How could she survive this long? Alone? She’s alone. No Alpha. Alone—

He vaguely recalled the sound of his brother shouting his name; a growl settled low in his chest and the heels of his hands pressed against his temples as he tore himself away from the perimeter and stormed through town. 

He needed to get away. Put as much distance between him and that thing that poked and prodded at what was to remain untouched. That stirred him, that set him quick to anger as those of his kind were notorious for. What he worked hard to not be. 

He wasn’t sure how long he paced. How many glasses of whiskey he downed, or the number of curses he threw at his walls, but later that evening, when he had subdued himself to some sort of composure, Joel sought after his brother and his wife, making it a point to address the issue head-on. He burst through their door without knocking: 

“Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?” 

“Joel—!” snapped the younger Miller, bouncing to his feet from the couch where he sat beside Maria, already engaged in conversation over what Joel could assume was the reckless decision at hand. 

“It’s fine, Tommy,” Maria interjected, extending a cautionary hand toward her husband. Her focused eyes took a once over of the fuming man in front of her. “Joel, I’m not turning away perfectly capable people. They pose no threat to us; we’ll find each of them a place here.” 

People. Them. Joel knew his sister-in-law wasn’t so naive as to think he was distressed over a couple of betas. The patronizing calm of her voice stirred him on, and he flashed his teeth at her when he spoke, low and gritty. A fight for dominance. 

“She’s an omega. Unmated.”

“And we’ll be sure to make accommodations for that.” Maria nodded slowly, carefully. She was all too familiar with the taming of beasts. 

Joel shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “There are twelve goddamn unmated alphas in these walls, Maria.” 

“Yeah, you included,” she clipped, and that shut him up good. “And with the way things are progressing, soon enough, Ellie.” 

That made him nauseous. 

Ever since her eighteenth birthday, she had been showing all the tell-tale signs of an emerging alpha. Joel knew—despite his unpreparedness and objections to the thing called nature—there was nothing he could do to stop it. The only other option was to prepare. And up until that point, Joel had thought his adopted daughter's presentation was the worst of his worries. 

He wasn’t prepared to reevaluate his own self-control. 

He hadn’t dealt with a rut since Boston; it was only the start of FEDRA’s reign, before the suppressants had been sufficiently pumped into the population, and fiery instinct was reduced to a dull nuisance. And while his access to the aid was now nonexistent, he still hadn’t considered it possible anymore before you showed up. Upon his and Ellie's arrival, the measly two other omegas in his vicinity had already inhabited Jackson. Both mated. 

Joel assumed the next time he encountered the type, it would be when one in the community presented. And by that point, he hoped he’d be far too old for the monster inside his head to have any more biological control. 

The solution had been to set you up in the cottage furthest from the center of town. It was a decent little space that had been used for storage until late, having cleared the fireplace last fall for ample central heating and restoring some of the rotten infrastructure. As deliriously naive as he saw it, the belief appeared to be that the distance of your dwelling from the rest of Jackson would prevent any complications if they arose. When they did. Joel couldn’t decipher what genius course of action his sister-in-law had for when the time came, but his protests were silenced by the majority. And by morning, you had claimed your corner of sanctuary. 

That was six months ago. 

And while the winds of winter kept the newcomers isolated with adjustment, the summer's heat brings livelihood—and much more of you. 

Your voice, your laughter, your scent. It permeates Jackson’s walls like a disease, saturating Joel’s life despite his efforts to avoid your very existence. 

You contribute your share at the daycare, of all places, often seen with a young pup clinging to your neck. Sometimes, the little ones chase after you in the center of town—running towards you with excited, grubby hands and beaming smiles. You always grace them with an embrace. It’s in your nature, the ability to comfort, to nurture. 

You’re gentle. Kind. Considerate. A smile brighter than a thousand stars. Perfection didn’t appear to have a name until the universe made you, and there is no denying the intrinsic effect you have on those around you. 

Because the rest of the town fucking adores you. 

There is no escaping you. As hard as he tries, you linger at every turn, in every breath of the wind that creeps down his back and stands the hair up on his skin. Most are in awe, admiring the creature that glides before them, whose presence adds to balance the very nature they all endure. A missing piece of a puzzle, something delightful and pure. 

Rare. 

Not diamonds, or rubies, or gold can compare. But in tandem comes those who feed on things that shine, and he knows that some—a very specific some—leer with less adoration and increased selfishness. Some who believe they are owed for the mark you bear, whose pride and lust drive their ambition, whose power is unmatched in the face of something so helpless. 

He’s aware, by the principle of semantics, that he falls into this greedy some. Though he could not identify further from it. And while the monster may heave and thrash within the dwindling confines of his chest, lured to all that is so rare, Joel had decided the moment you walked through those gates he would have none of it. He would not reduce himself to the thing he worked tirelessly to tame, nor would he entertain the force of nature that drove someone like you to something like him. 

You’re aware of his distaste for you. That much is obvious in how you blatantly evade him in town, skirting around when you are forced to share the vicinity, a terrified thing, so easily spooked. 

Once, a few months prior, he had been asked to repair some of the leaky ceiling panels in the schoolhouse. Unbeknownst to him—and you, he assumed, judging by the way your eyes nearly bulged out of your skull at the sight of him and how the honeyed stench of the room turned sour—they were all located in the daycare room. 

What followed could only be described as two hours of slow, burning torture. He tried his very best to stay on task, he really did. But he was hindered by the discernible discomfort you exhibited and all it did to the thing inside of him. You tripped over your words to the fellow attendants in the room, couldn’t seem to locate anything you were looking for, and at one point, had to excuse yourself for what turned into a twenty-minute-long disappearance. And where he stood, high up on the ladder, trying to balance his body and his mind, Joel hated how worried your absence made him. He couldn’t see you, couldn’t hear you, couldn’t smell you for those agonizing twenty minutes, and that anger he felt the first day he laid eyes on you returned. Because he was not a man that gave up control. 

And you, for whatever reason, wielded a great deal of it over him. 

The first day of summer promises a bonfire. Dusk, in the open plain beyond the stables, the laughter of children and the strum of music are bringing the community to life. These are cherished moments amongst the whole of Jackson, and Joel isn’t the kind of man to be so self-absorbed that he can’t understand why. He had, up until six months ago, once enjoyed the camaraderie. It was the first time in decades he felt a semblance of impulse to let go. No more running, fighting, grieving. 

He can hardly remember that feeling now. In its place returns caution, unpredictability. Six months and the work of years lost. He feels insane—the lurking monster that haunts his own shadow. And as hard as he tries to shake it, he fails every time. The feeling is embedded, brought to life by its complimentary fragment that, much to his dismay, walks the very same walls. Lurks in the same shadows. 

He used to feel stable, steady. Not any longer. 

Your hair is tied half up today, out of your eyes—he’s watching you. Not watching, observing. This is the trade-off, the compromise to keep the beast satiated. Always from afar, and never with the intent of action, he observes you and all you are. It’s a part of his routine, studying the way you move, the way you exist in this space you’re both forced to inhabit. Constantly drawn to one another, even in distance, even without trying. Magnetic. 

Frustrating. 

You’re smiling at something. And then laughter, like the sweetest song rattles his eardrums. You sit on a blanket across the mountainous flames, your legs tucked under you, beside two other girls he couldn’t care to remember the names of. Briefly, he wonders what it is that you find so amusing. 

A misfortune at the hand of another? 

No, he cannot imagine you to be so cruel. 

An anecdote from the daycare? 

Seems far more likely. The type to find joy in what you do, in all that is around you. 

He’s envious of this, maybe. The effortless way of being attracted to what is deemed good. He tries to remember a time when he knew another person like that; all that ever follows are brief memories full of sorrow. The hazy outline of something, someone, so perfect in a way no one should be. He always dismisses the thought. He would never know what it means to be that way, after all. 

“Nice night.” 

He damn near jumps out of his boots. Tommy’s sudden materialization beside him diminishes any spirals of imagination, a blessing in disguise. 

Still, Joel is bothered by the disturbance. His little haven of borderline-stalker tendencies crushed under his brother's obnoxious foot. He merely grunts in response. 

“Glad we finally got this event together,” Tommy continues nonetheless, a hand on his hip, sipping his beer bottle and glancing similarly across the flames. Joel’s eyes have already left you, his arms folding taut across his chest while he casts his gaze anywhere else, if only for the sake of avoiding his brother's inevitable chastising. “Good to get the kids out… good to get everyone out, really. Nice chance to mingle.” 

Subtle. Real subtle. 

“Out with it, Tommy.” He doesn’t feel like playing this game tonight. He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the sake of appeasing his brother, or rather, his brother's wife. “Whatever it is you wanna say to me… out with it.” 

Tommy shrugs. “Nothin’ to come out with, Joel. Just that y’all have been here two years already and still seems like you have a tough time with these things.” 

He doesn’t miss the chosen emphasis. And it’s true, to an extent. While precarious in her initial adjustment, Ellie has been far more social than he. He talks to people. He just doesn’t trust them. Not those outside his immediate circle. And why should he? Joel does his work. He lends a hand to the community where he can. He’s polite. Punctual. Reliable. But he’s still living in the end of the fucking world, a world he has seen more brutality and injustice in than he ever would have cared to. So what if he doesn’t want to roast marshmallows and sing campfire songs? 

“What is it that you want from me, Tommy? I’m here, ain’t I?” 

“Don’t want nothin’ from you, brother,” Tommy says with a shake of his head, and Joel still can’t pinpoint just when his little brother finally grew the fuck up. Twenty years of lost time will do that to a person. “Just wanna be sure you’re livin’ this second chance to the fullest.”     

A second chance. 

He can pinpoint a time where he would have killed for one of those. 

And perhaps he did just that, and the real fault lies in being unable to embrace the outcome. Or maybe, the misery he lives in is the price he pays for the choices that led him here. Second chance shrouded in self-loathing. 

His brother persists: “Take advantage of how lucky ya are to be here, how lucky we all are to be here, to have…options.”  

Has he ever been good at weighing those? Twenty years ago, he would have had a different answer. Twenty years ago, he wouldn’t have known the debilitating options of life or death. This isn’t the first time Tommy has presented the topic of conversation, and he’s certain it won’t be the last. He wonders when he’ll find a response that appeases him, if ever. 

“Just try to enjoy yourself a little tonight, alright?” 

He doesn’t answer. He lacks the discipline to say something of substance. Instead, he turns his head forward and strains his arms against his chest, silent and brooding, until his brother sighs, pats him on the shoulder, and slips away. 

This is enjoyable enough; left to his own devices, keen to observe the joy around him, a silent hope that some of it may permeate, keep an eye on—

He’d been too preoccupied with Tommy’s noise to notice you’d disappeared from his line of sight. His brows furrow and he scans the perimeter of the bonfire. Your friends have moved to the beverage stand, but the spot you had occupied beside them is vacant. 

He cocks his head left, then right, scanning for signs; the cadence of your voice, the shape of you, your scent. And he’s frustrated. Because how could he let you vanish so fast? Where? Why? 

It’s something instinctive that compels him to act at the first sign of trouble. It’s the faintest thing, a subtle waft in the wind he’s certain no one would catch unless they were searching for it. Sour and burnt, his nose wrinkles. 

He does a one-eighty and panic seizes his chest.

Your silhouette may be foreign to the common eye, but he’s learned it well. It tramples and scrambles through the foliage, distressed; a good two, three hundred yards away from the crowd and headed in the direction of your dwelling. 

He’s honed in. A nerve fires inside his chest. His heart ticks to a beat that suffocates his eardrums, and there’s a churning in his gut that threatens to yank him forward. 

He turns back toward the flames, only once, before his footsteps fall in stride with you. 

He wonders just how long he’s been blind. How many days had passed since the tell-tale signs began to emerge. When you knew, if you knew, or if this very moment, here and now, is the one mother nature decided to take you by the hand and guide you down the imminent path. 

Joel always watches you. Observes. How could he have let this slip under his radar? 

He’s imagined this exact scenario numerous times before. Though in his head, havoc rained, blood was shed, and carnage laid bare across the whole of town. A wreckage for all to witness, to acknowledge the barbarous creatures that walk amongst them. Twelve starved, selfish alphas seeking a single, undeserved prize. 

In theory, his expectations aren’t all that far-fetched. In a time before, they may have been a reality. When there was no order. When creatures with perceived power could take and take, and others would be remiss to challenge them. 

But here, in the haven he occupies, those expectations are mere theatrics. 

Here, the air is frighteningly quiet, save for the joyous voices in the distance, the whistle of the breeze. He’s aware of the sound of his boots crunching against the ground, how the weight of them seems to melt into the earth with each daunting step. They follow after lighter, fluttering tip-toes; a scared, scampering thing on the run from all that could harm her. Alone.

Vulnerable. 

The closer he follows, the clearer your labored huffs reach his ears. The aroma in the air loses its earthy notes and adopts the sweetness you shed. A trail of seeds yet to sprout, bathed in moonlight, beckoning him closer. A single lantern is left lit on the cottage steps, a beacon. You clamber up them two at a time, and in tandem, his careless foot snaps a twig beneath his boot. 

Your head whips around, sharp eyes pinning daggers to his chest.

“I ain’t here to hurt you.” 

He puts his hands up in careful defense, leaving the vast space of the porch steps between you. Your chest is heaving and your temples are already damp. Your eyes have glossed over, a crazed look, and he knows the fever has taken the reins. 

But there is no urge to pounce. No incessant need to satisfy a selfish craving. It’s there, it lives, but it does not drive him the way he always suspected it would. It’s evicted from the home of fears that feed on his consciousness, and in its place, emerges something just as innate. As plain and clear as all other parts of him he once tried to diminish. 

“What do you need?” he asks softly, carefully. Unprotected prey are easily spooked. 

Your eyes dart every which way, searching for the complimentary predators. They glisten with tears under the porch lights, sweat reflecting off your forehead the more you lose yourself, and he knows that you’re afraid. He can feel it. 

“Omega,” Joel commands, and your wide eyes snap right back to him. Drawn to him and all that he is. If his instincts weren’t so hellbent on curbing your fears, he would’ve scolded himself for abusing such a power. “What do you need?” he repeats, a bit more pointedly. 

He watches the way your throat constricts when you swallow, brows twitching together in study of him. Searching for some ulterior motive, no doubt, but the trepidation is brief. Your nostrils flare in deep inhalation, and he wonders what remedy he must exude to ease you so effortlessly. 

You trust him. 

A terrifyingly naive mistake. 

And yet, there is no denying the way his chest swells with pride and how the monster inside of him roars to life. 

“Keep the rest of them away,” you say finally, and it’s all he needs to hear. The rest is second nature. 

He nods dutifully, lingering at the bottom of the steps. He waits until you blink the haze out of your darkening eyes, giving him a final once over, and scramble the door open and shut, before he climbs to the top of the steps. He turns his back to the door, his arms crossed over his chest like they had been while he watched you through the fire, his eyes forward—focused. An unmatched mode of protection activates. He hears the deadbolt lock, and he’s grateful for your diligence. Though he knows it’s useless. Every alpha in a ten-mile radius would smell you within minutes. 

And that smell. 

It’s only now that he notices its potency. It grows and swells the longer you’re hidden inside; waves of vanilla and citrus that are almost too sweet. They burn his nose. Coat the back of his throat in thick tar, making it impossible for him to swallow without a taste of you. 

The beast grows, a second skin now. It occupies him further as each moment passes by. His fingers twitch, his own brow dampens, and an unrelenting ache settles low in his stomach. 

He gruffs out a breath, shaking his head rapidly. He needs to keep it together. He needs to move. 

He’s stalking the perimeter in a craze, eyes and ears on high alert. He leaves his mark behind wherever he can, brushing up against trees, allowing the dense pheromones that seep out of his skin to pollute the air. It isn’t foolproof, but it’s enough to dampen the sweet nectar radiating off your walls, at least for a time. 

He starts to panic when he finally hears the first little moan slip through the walls. A soft, restless thing, and the ache in his gut flourishes, threatening to send him to his knees. He seeks purchase on the rail of the porch, having made his way back to the door. He squeezes his eyes shut. This cannot be happening. 

Clarity becomes overshadowed by instinct, and the ache expands into his chest, his fingertips, his toes. It’s been years, and the onset is no less overwhelming. He’ll do what he can to prolong it, ensure that he is of his right mind when the height of the fever takes you. He can’t imagine what he’ll do, otherwise. 

But his patience is tested. The soft scratch beyond the front door makes sure of it. 

His ears perk up and his nostrils flare. He can make out a faint creak, weight shifting. Palms to the panes, a body pressing against the wood. Warmth seeps through the cracks. 

“Joel?” 

There you are. 

His body carries him up the steps–he doesn’t have to think about moving. His muscles and joints, his very soul seem to be linked to your command. He stands with his toes pressed to the bottom of the door, and it’s getting harder to breathe. Harder to discern what’s right in front of him. He squeezes his eyes shut. 

“I’m here.” 

Your breath wavers, a sigh of relief. He zeros in on what he can make of you through the barrier, the last shred of sanity. 

“I’m sorry,” you finally croak, and his eyes shoot open, brows laced in confusion. 

“You have nothin’ to be apologizing for–”

“No, I do,” you press, and the words come with great difficulty. Heavy and strained, as if it is critical you say them now. 

Perhaps it is. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows it’s only a matter of time before you’re not entirely yourself. Before he won't be able to get a coherent answer out of you, when every action you take relies solely on relief. 

He’ll take the opportunity to listen to what you have to say while you still can. You seem to realize it too as your words start to pour out, staggered and rushed:

“I know I’ve done something… something to upset you for all this time, and—and I’m sorry. Whatever it is, I’m sorry, and I’ll fix it. I’ll fix it, Joel. I promise. Just please—”

“Stop that.” 

He can't even begin to believe what he’s hearing. Can’t possibly fathom the damage he’s caused, all he’s insinuated with his behavior, his choices. 

Him. He is to blame. 

Yet, you’re the one near tears. You’re the one who begs for forgiveness, where no plea nor apologies need be. You’ve convinced yourself, or rather, he’s indoctrinated you into believing you are the one to blame. 

That you are the monster. 

And oh, does it make his blood boil with well-acquainted self-loathing. 

“You don’t—you haven’t—”

Now he’s the one sputtering. Where does one find the words to right infinite wrongs? 

You’ve reached an impasse, and this is surely the desperation speaking. He’ll have to be the level headed one, steer you in the right direction. A chance to redeem himself, as great a feat it’s proving to be. He musters up the courage, sets his pride aside. 

“You ain’t done nothin’ wrong, you hear me?” His lips are near pressed against the wood, seething through them, desperate for you to latch on to each painful word. “You needa know that, all right? You… you ain’t the one to blame here.” 

The admission is ash on his tongue. Speaking it aloud, bringing it to life. His ears strain for any sign of you, fallen silent. Something inside possesses the urge to break clean through the wood. 

“Help me.” 

Forgiveness. Guilt welded to his chest now shattered and set free by the capabilities of kindness. You hardly know one another, and yet, there is mutual understanding. An agreement that surpasses time, bonded to what you’re made of. 

“Alpha,” you call, and Joel has to brace himself against the frame to keep from falling. His chest beams, his belly stirs, and the sting of desire plagues him. “Please.” 

He had read about the process once, long before. Disorientation. Excruciating aches that make it nearly impossible to stand upright. A tingling sensation so intense, that it replicates that of burning on the skin. 

Pain. 

You’re in pain, and he knows he can stop it. 

And soon enough knowing turns to needing, and he can feel a fraction of the pain you’re enduring. It’s enough to shatter his resolve. 

A heavy hand rests on the doorknob. A beat. And then, as if on cue, he hears the deafening sound of the deadbolt unlatching. 

He hesitates, opportunity served on a golden platter. Sifts through the repercussions of what could follow. But when the door opens and shuts again, he’s on the other side of it. The lock latches, this time, under his own hand. 

You’ve shuffled your way back from the door. Standing, though by the looks of it, with great difficulty. You’re no longer in your pretty summer dress, but a t-shirt large enough to swallow you and little shorts so short he can smell right through them. 

Even from a distance, his height climbs above you in the way only predators leverage prey. But he knows you’re unafraid. He can sense your fascination with him just by observing you; it’s as plain as the air he breathes, something intrinsic and right as hard as he’s worked to deem it wrong. It’s in the way that you stiffen, your body having no other choice than to respond to him. Wide eyes appraise every inch of him, and you trouble your bottom lip with your teeth in a spot he would very well like to taste. 

The aroma is suffocating; it seeps into his pores and wraps its eager hands around his throat. He won’t be able to rid himself of you for days, even if he tries. 

He’s grown pompous, it seems. For the thought of those he passes enduring a whiff of you on his skin stirs his cock in his jeans. The idea that awakens him, the prospect of becoming his. 

“I’m scared,” you hiccup, and he suddenly remembers he has greater things to tend to. 

He has a million questions, torn between action and rationale. 

When was the last time this happened? Do you have enough supplies prepared? How long is it expected to last? 

But none of that matters right now. She matters. And she needs you. 

“I know, baby.” He’s terrified, and the words spill out. “But you’re gonna get through it, ya hear me?” He takes another step closer. “We’re gonna get through it.” 

And there is a glimmer in your eyes, that of hope, and he knows that he is powerless in this battle he’s fought against himself for so long. He’s only prolonging the inevitable. 

“You’ll help me?” It's all pleas and hope and teetering near the symphony of begging, but he can’t hear you beg. He can’t bear the sound nor the implication, as he’s certain it will ruin him. But: “Please,” you whimper, plucking his kryptonite out of thin air and wielding it against him. And it’s only then that he notices the way your thighs tremble together, desperately searching for some sort of friction. “It hurts.” 

And he loses, loses the fight. He is lost to you. He always has been. 

“Turn around,” he beckons, and you obey him because you’re good. You’ll be so good for him. 

Because you know exactly what she needs. 

The floorboards creek beneath his feet, and when he reaches you, fingers drag the bulk of your hair over one shoulder. He watches the muscles flex below his touch, the way your hands ball into tight fists at your sides. He’s hit with the overwhelming scent of your exposed gland, and his mouth waters. 

Focus, the thing inside him chastises. You’ll have plenty of time to taste. 

He takes a final step, flushing the front of his chest with your backside. Greedy hands latch on to your waist, followed by the slump of your body into him. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder, and your lips part in a sigh—a pretty little sound, though he’s determined to alleviate the burden it stems from.

He reaches for one of your fists, taking you by the wrist. Your fingers unfurl upon his touch, and he uses it as an opportunity to fold his own overtop your knuckles. He guides your joint hands, settling them low over your belly. 

“Show me,” he murmurs, dipping his head to the crook of your neck. His lips dance over the skin, and your legs begin to tremble. He keeps the hand at your hip firm, an anchor. “Show me where it hurts.” 

Your breath catches and your eyelids flutter, half-open. Your fingers squeeze around his, and without hesitation, he squeezes back. He’s here. He’s got you. He won't let you go. 

And with that reassurance, hands descend, following your lead. You claw away the t-shirt hem, idling above the waistband of your shorts before sinking underneath. A low growl rumbles in his chest at his findings, muffled into your hair. You comb his fingers through soft curls, the flesh below hot and throbbing. Together, you cup the little seam of your cunt, and Joel has to fight the urge to fall to his knees, pry you open here and now. 

You’re dripping. Warm slick pools in his hand, sticky against your thighs. He feels a pulse of it spill out of you when his fingertips prod at your hole, your back arching off his chest, another devastating gasp of air choking you. 

He’s already dizzy, high on the fumes of you. He shuts his eyes when his vision begins to blur. And he’s hard. So achingly stiff against your back, if he thinks about it for too long, he's sure to lose control. You’ll send him into a full blown rut, he’s certain of it. Likely, you already have, teetering at the edge. And as these minutes tick, the less time he has to prepare you. To warm you up and slather you in pleasure before brute nature runs its course. 

“Joel,” you whine. His eyes flash back open, pupils doubled in size.

“Bedroom. Now.” 

He releases you, but only after giving a handful of your ass a terse squeeze. You squeal, nearly leaping out of his touch. You flash him your eyes only once before tiptoeing forward, and he’s hot on your heels, stalking after you. Patience drowned deep, mangled by desire. 

Your room is to be expected, cozy and warm, entirely you. Under any other circumstance, he’d have more appreciation for the homemade candles and delicate tapestries, the various posters displaying your interests and the native plants you’ve taken the care to pot and house. 

But he’s immediately drawn to your mattress, the piles of pillows and blankets strewn about in a fashion only you are to understand. You’ve been busy since you left him on the porch. 

You stop a few feet shy of the bed, glancing over your shoulder at him, uncertain. There’s a shift in your aura, suddenly grown timid. There’s a guilty sort of gleam in your eyes, but he recognizes it for what it really is—shame. That you cannot control your erratic breathing, or the heat that creeps over your brow. That your body faces the impulse of preparation for something beyond your control, and now, you’re forced to lay it bare for him to witness. 

He holds no judgment, only empathy. There is beauty in this vulnerability, and for the first time, he understands the gravity of your trust in him. Something in the shape of fulfillment blooms. 

“Here?” he asks, nudging his chin toward the heap. 

You nod once, and he shrugs the flannel off his shoulders. An offering, and you accept it wordlessly, eagerly. You eye it in your hands, then him, back again, hesitant. You’re shy now that he’s indulged you.  

That’s alright. She just needs you to take your time with her. 

Finally, you slowly bring the wad of it up to your nose and inhale. Your eyes droop shut, lashes kissing the apples of your cheeks, and his chest beams with pride at the notable fall of your shoulders. Tension evades you, replaced with the comfort of his scent. His. 

“Go on,” he instructs gently, once he has your eyes again. He wishes he could peer inside your head, decipher the wary thoughts that live so plainly on your face. 

Nonetheless, you shuffle your way to the mattress, carefully crawling on top of it. It’s painfully adorable, the way you gnaw at your bottom lip and analyze the space, his flannel still clutched in your fist. 

He also recalls reading about this, how it’s imperative that your space be designed to your exact liking. The assistance of a trusted alpha’s scent is a surefire way to heighten comfort. 

So when you drape his flannel over the pillow you lay your head upon at night, and tuck it in tight around the edges, he’s overcome with a mighty wave of emotion. He is strengthened, his affliction no longer a weakness, but a gift. A means of sustaining your well-being. He almost feels unworthy. Almost. But when you sit up on your knees at the edge and give him those expectant eyes, he imagines what it would be like to rid the town of the eleven other hungry beasts who could have ended up outside your door. So that they may never get a breath of you. 

That they may never touch what’s his. 

He approaches with caution—slowly, toeing off his boots in the process, fighting every urge to pounce. Droplets begin to roll down your temples, and he thinks you’re the most beautiful like this; wild eyes, a little frenzied. Awaiting some treat like a starved puppy who's already forgotten how to chew, how to swallow. He will remedy this. He’ll feed you, satiate you. 

You’re an antsy little thing now, nearly bouncing up and down, toes curling and uncurling beneath you. And as soon as his shins meet the bed frame, you’re rising on your knees, nearly his height now. You study one another and the heat between you, the uneven breath and the palpable compulsion to touch. His brows rise on his forehead, surprise, when you reach out first. Shaky, dainty hands coming to rest upon his shoulders that glow under your willing gesture. 

He can’t help himself; his hands splay over your ribcage, curving around your lungs, and yanking your chest against his. You yelp out, but the tiny grin that follows on your lips and the way you wind your arms around his neck flash a million green lights. He can hardly keep up, and he realizes now he’s the one panting; his fingers bruise into your skin, and his tongue seems to swell three sizes with need, starvation.  

And he hesitates, because if he proceeds, he’ll finally know the sensation of kissing you. He’ll have a taste of you. He’ll understand what it means to have your body pressed against his, and how the scent of him will change, saturated by pieces of you. 

But it’s you and your willingness to be so kind, so undeniably what you are, that breaks him from the mold he’s cast. You scratch him gently just below his ear to get his attention, and his worried eyes find yours—a pure contradiction, only certainty and peace to be found. 

It’s alright. She’s ready for you. 

This voice is different, warped. A mixture of two. He’s not sure if he hears it from him, or you. 

He doesn’t care. 

His lean into the kiss is measured, but it’s not long before it descends into madness. You’re wound and fiery against him, clawing at the nape of his neck, baring tongue and teeth. He’s willing, eager to keep up, bending you at the small of the back and crowding over you. Licking you open and shoving his tongue between your lips, until the sharp sounds of saliva echo through the room and his palate is coated in sweetness. 

He loses himself a bit, winding a hand up your back until it’s latching around tendrils of hair and pulling taut. You gasp, arching into him, and he growls at the opportunity of more of you, to taste all of you. 

His lips clamber down your throat, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses in their wake. You’re mumbling something, indescribable under the mask of your flourishing heat, but the pliancy of your body is all he needs to make way for instinct. 

When he reaches the base, the tip of his nose traces your clavicle, sniffing like a mad dog. He continues up the curve of your neck until he finds the rough little patch behind your ear. Here, he inhales deep, audibly; your scent is most potent here and it clouds his judgment. His tongue juts out from his lips, salivating, searing across the gland and sealing his invasion with a gentle kiss, and oh, you like that. He hears the strangled sound that rips through your throat, feels your sharp nails dig deeper into his skin and the weight of your body shuddering against him. 

He yanks at the hem of your t-shirt. “Arms up.” 

You heed his command, and he pulls the fabric over you, tossing it into oblivion. 

He’s got you on your back, sprawled amongst the nest of your things and his, in no time. He sinks to his knees, huffing at the stiffness of them. He bullies himself between your shaking thighs and drags his paws across your torso. He cups both of your tits in an unforgiving grasp, heaving himself forward and suctioning his lips around one. You howl and pant, pain and pleasure, weaving fingers through his locks of hair and tugging just as hard as he sucks. He switches to the other, leaving welts behind, memories of his ardor. 

He wants them to linger. Knowing that he can’t mark you—won’t, not while you’re like this—in the way he longs to. A greedy act of ownership he hopes will ward off the others until he can map out this newfound territory. 

Your thighs suffocate his hips, radiating warmth. He feels the little gyrations of your hips, seeking friction, and he can’t find it in himself to deny you any longer. He licks a trail down your sternum, the tangy taste of fever, peppering kisses over your belly. His fingers curl over the waistband of your shorts, taking two fistfuls, and he rips them in two. Joel doesn’t think you’ve even noticed the destruction, already pawing needy hands across his shoulders to guide him where you need him most. 

Your legs part instantly, willingly, and his mouth drops open at the sight. He’s suddenly reminded of his own struggle, his cock seeming to swell another size in his jeans at the sight of your bare, swollen cunt. Creamy liquid coats your wet skin, pearly clit swollen and wanting. He rests a cheek upon your inner thigh, latches his hands around the outer to keep you steady, and admires. Lets his eyes fall shut and leans in, burying his nose in the soft curls on your mound. He inhales long and groans; the earthy musk, the inviting sweetness. 

“God, look at this pretty fuckin’ hole.” He starts blathering aloud, but you smolder under his praise. Bucking your hips and grabbing at all the bits of him you can find. “This all for me, Omega?” 

Yes, yes, yes, you pant, speaking with your body and your mouth, nodding so frantically. He enjoys the way your cunt flutters around nothing, each little pulse oozing another drop of sweet slick, coaxing him in. 

He wets his lips, takes another whiff of you. He’s certain he’ll lose his mind if he doesn’t taste you, so he does. Flattens his tongue against your impatient pussy, and watches as you all but combust when he suckles up the nectar seeping out, all for him. 

It’s more heavenly, more euphoric than he could’ve imagined. The stain of you against his tongue, ambrosia, a remedy for all ailments. He laps into you, dehydrated and desperate for every drop, smearing his tongue all over your cunt, your mound, your thighs. A feast for the taking. 

You wail above him when his lips latch onto your clit, and heavy hands force your thighs back against the mattress—he needs you spread, and still. Needs you to understand the severity of this famine he’s experienced for so long; maybe, as long as he’s existed. You yank at his hair and your heels dig into his back, pushing and pulling all at once, and when he finally comes up for air, he’s feeding you his fingers. Catches your eyes and the way they grow when he sinks two, thick digits inside of you, groaning at the squeeze of your plush walls, ripe and ready for him. 

“Gonna open you up for me, darlin’,” he rasps, lips and cheeks and chin gleaming with you. You hastily prop yourself up on your elbows, getting a view of the way he learns you. Moonlight glows across sheen skin, angelic. 

“B-but Joel—” you whine, but he silences you with a thrust of his fingers, curving them up, up, up, and beaming when your legs jerk and your eyes roll back. He taps his fingertips against the spongy little spot he’s discovered.

“Hush, now,” he bites, but his taunting fingers promise a better outcome than his tone. Your head has already fallen back into the pillows, hands mindlessly grabbing and twisting the sheets around you. “M’gonna open you up, get you nice and ready to take me.” He starts his steady pace then, gradually pulling his fingers back and rocking them forward, maintaining the hook, searching for the sweet little spot that makes you cry out every time he bumps it. “You’re gonna be patient, let me make it all better, yeah?” 

“Yes, Alpha. Yes, yes.” 

He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy this descent into submission. How the further you slip away from him, the further he is from himself. Two parts of a whole lost to what nature made them, somehow, finding one another to latch onto. 

He leans into it. Embraces it. He needs to make this last. Take advantage of all that it is, fearing it may be the first and only time he’ll be lucky enough to have it. 

A heavy hand, his free one, presses against your lower belly. He can feel the drag of his fingers inside of you, just below his palm, sending his blood to a boil. Sweat graces his own brow; these are shared symptoms, that of your fever and his rut. Cosmic, burning from the inside out, like stars. Everything he is, created for you. 

He can feel the wave, the buildup of pressure in your gut that makes his own ache. Feels the wet tip of his cock in his jeans when you start to pant his name, when a flimsy hand reaches for the flannel you tucked away so neatly, and yanks it toward your face. Smothering yourself with it, shoving your nose to his scent. 

“Alpha—nghh!” 

“C’mon, baby. C’mon,” he chants; a mantra. Presses harder onto your burning belly, extends his thumb to circle over your throbbing clit in time with his flexing wrist. 

Your body seizes, soft, full breasts rising and falling as you desperately gulp the air. Your poor legs tremble so hard, you can’t keep them upright anymore without his help, so they drape over his shoulders. Squeeze them tight, claws nearly drawing blood against his scalp, and your pussy sucks him into the knuckle. Grips on like a vice before the wave crashes, and you’re gushing around his fingers. Crying out ecstasy, soaking his chin, his chest, your limp legs. 

“Fuuuck,” he’s growling, in awe of the little spurts of cum that keep flowing out of you with each measured jingle of his digits. He wants to see how much he can drain you before he removes them, how much pretty, perfect, omega slick you’ll make for him, every drop an homage to your yearning for what he’s preparing to give you. The thing that swells, and aches, and burns at the base of his cock, and he can’t help but rub it up against the side of the mattress, desperately seeking some of his own relief. 

You’ve lost yourself entirely now, he knows this. The orgasm he’s granted you sets your full heat into motion, and you’ll require more. Can sense it in the haze of your eyes, the delirious babbling of his name mingled with Alpha, Alpha, please. Tears coating your cheeks, an emptiness in the pit of you only he can fill. 

But one taste isn’t enough, and he’s greedy. Greedy, greedy alpha of a man, who needs more. Can’t help it as he watches the liquid pour from around his fingers, so he unsheathes them, quickly replacing them with his open mouth again to drink the goodness right out of you. A fountain of excellence he’s certain he’ll never tire of. 

He must be lost in this, the incessant need to quench his thirst, for some time. Because you start to whine and thrash below him, strings of pleas and sorrow alike. Pulling at his t-shirt, trying to tear it from him at this awkward angle. Telling him over and over that it hurts, Alpha, it hurts—and that just won’t do. 

He quickly replaces your wandering fingers, tugging his shirt up and off of him and retreating to his feet to battle with his belt buckle. You jolt up at this, suddenly alert, perching at the edge of the mattress, wet hair sticking to your face, eyes taking a curious path down bare skin. 

There’s a momentary wave of self-consciousness; he can’t remember the last time a woman saw him naked, let alone after the safety and comfort that Jackson provided. 

He’s aged. Gained a few pounds in his belly, muscles bulky and lined with fat instead of the lean mass they once were. But then, you place your palms on his chest. Flutter your eyes up at him as you glide your hands slowly over his torso, and make sure he’s watching when you lean forward and press a chaste kiss to his sternum. His eyes go dark, his insecurity silenced. 

“Wanna taste it, Alpha,” you demand, voice breaking at the edges. Sounding simultaneously foreign and never more like yourself. Shaky fingers reach down, cupping him through his boxers, making his dick jump, and he sucks the air through his teeth. “Can I taste it, please?” 

He grins down at you, because yeah, you’re good. So good. So polite. Just like he knew you would be. Good, kind, generous little omega, too much so for her own good. You rake at his bare chest, start to palm him slowly, batting dangerous eyes up at him. So tempting. He reaches down, takes your chin between his fingers, and pets your bottom lip with his thumb. Hoping to soothe away disappointment. Because as much as he wants to be selfish, he needs to be inside of you. 

“No time for that now, sweet baby. Not this time. Wanna give it to you somewhere else.” He drops his hand, splaying his fingers low over your abdomen. “Right in here, huh? Isn’t that what you want?”

Oh, yes. Yes, it is. You nod up at him, frantic, mouth hung open and drool spilling out the sides. Ravenous thing you are, just as hungry as he. 

“C’mere. Let me help you.” 

He’s got you by the hips, lowering you properly back against the pillows. He shuffles out of his boxers, and you watch him, dazed; your fingers in your mouth, chewing on them. Knees up to your chest, thighs rubbing back and forth, slipping so easily with all the pretty slick he’s pulled out of you. 

Vulnerable little creature you are, you welcome him into your nest. Pull your fingers out from your teeth and extend them towards him, and spread your legs for him to settle his mass between. And when he does, there’s a shared sounding of pleasure. He sits back on his heels, guiding the weight of his heavy cock over your cunt, and fuck, if you aren’t just perfect like this. 

Your body burns, a fire he must extinguish. He leans forward, exasperating you a bit when he drapes his weight over you, caging you in with elbows on either side of your head. His knees still cradle your ass, and he uses the mounted leverage to grind his cock against you. He huffs, his knot blazing, painful and stiff, and his gut is on fire. You’re so warm, so wet, and he slips so easily between you. He can’t help but growl out when you begin to meet his thirst with needy rocks of your own. 

Your eyes droop shut, hands seeking purchase on his shoulders, and he uses his to cradle each side of your scalp. He presses his forehead to yours, captures your parted lips in a searing kiss. 

“You’re gonna give me another one,” he mumbles, drawing back from you, reaching for his stiff cock and gripping it tight. His eyes drop to where you’re nearly connected, so close. You glisten along his shaft, and he uses it to rub the angry tip of him back and forth over your folds, parted petals that threaten to suck him in each time he catches on the opening. He taps it on your tender clit; you quiver and clench, wailing out frustration. 

“N-no please—please,” you beg, eyes brimming with tears again. You slide your hands underneath his arms, digging your nails under his shoulder blades. “Please put it inside me, Alpha. Please, please.” 

“You can do it, baby.” 

“I can’t, please. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” 

And you do. You chase the high vigorously. The jerks of your hips follow him, taking great precision in the way he slides his shaft up and down your swollen little seam, paying special attention to your clit. He can feel the way it jumps and throbs, all the juices flowing out of you dowsing over him, dripping down onto his knot. 

He can’t look away, an obscenely beautiful sight. And the next time you quiver, clench around nothing, and call out his name, he just can’t help himself. 

He slips inside of you with one, tenacious thrust. Met with no resistance, only warmth and fullness. Your entire body goes rigid, eyes bulged and lips hung open in surprise, before relaxing entirely. You melt into him, the fury of your need thawing with his gift, and you sigh a beautiful sound of reprieve. Vanilla melds with leather, interwoven, and he knows he’s ruined you for any others. 

And he. He’s sweating, and panting, and the shudder won’t leave his spine. He’s never felt anything quite like it, the flutter of a fertile omega’s cunt around his cock. He was dreaming before, and now he’s awake. Startled by all that is perfectly right. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it.” He rolls his hips once, the tip of him bruising your cervix, and you sigh his name. “Promised I’d make it all better, yeah?”

You use the leverage of his shoulders to crane your neck up, pressing your forehead to his. Your thighs straddle his ribcage, clinging to him, needy little pet that you are. 

“S-so full, Alpha. It’s so big.” 

“I know, baby. I know,” he coos. “But look.” He parts with a fleeting kiss to your chin, sitting back on his heels and dropping his gaze to where you’re connected. A thick ring of cream sits above his knot, and it pulses at the sight. “Look how well she’s taking me.” 

You shakily bring yourself to your elbows, peering with drunken eyes and O-shaped lips. Your brows knit at the center of your forehead, and the precious, fucked-out look you cast up is enough to send him into motion. 

He grunts, wrapping his hands around your hips and yanking your bum up and onto his thighs. His pace is slow but deep, focused on kissing your womb with every thrust. Now that he’s inside of you, he can focus on nothing but the result. How imperative it’s become that he fills you. Satiate the ache by pumping you with his seed. He bares his teeth, images of his spend dripping out of you flashing before his eyes. He needs it. Chases it with fury, a conquest. But he won’t let it go to waste. No, he needs to knot you. Be certain that every drop of it touches your womb. How it would feel to have you latched to him, the prospect of its ramifications—a swollen belly, a piece of you carrying a part of him—sounding nothing but appealing.  

“JoelJoelJoel.” You’re repeating his name like a prayer, looking at him with such devotion. 

He’s picked up his pace, instinctive. Hard enough now that your flimsy mattress springs squeak, and the headboard thumps against the wall. You’ve fallen back into your pillows, your hands coming up to knead and pull at your breasts, and fuck, if it doesn’t gratify him to see you lean into the pleasure. 

He knows you're close when the tears at your waterline begin to stream down your cheeks. He scoots you further up his thighs, places a heavy hand back on your belly, and sure enough, on his next thrust, he can feel the bulbous tip of his cock through the skin. He grits his teeth, and he knows you must feel it too because you gasp as if he’s committed some sort of crime, shock and disbelief. 

“Feel you—haa—in-in my stomach, Alpha.”

“That’s right, baby,” he grunts. “In your fuckin’ guts. Just where you needed me.” 

His thumb drops to your clit, circles it with the rhythm of his thrusts, and makes you sing. There isn’t, and he’s sure there never will be, anything like the way you feverishly clench around him. Actively trying to suck him in, the steady flow of tears and cum, your incoherent babbles, beyond your control. He needs you closer, he needs to saturate you with every part of him. 

He rolls onto his back, scooping you into his chest and dragging you along with him. Gets you good and propped on his bent legs before he drives up into you. You collapse onto his chest, desperate hands clinging to his pecs. You burrow your nose into his neck, and he nearly bursts at the seams when you tease your teeth across his beating gland. 

“One more,” he seethes, bouncing you up and down with a great force; you needn’t even help him. He takes palm-fulls of your ass, secures the reins. Your hips will bruise by morning, but he doesn’t care. It’s worth the desperation in the way you cling to him, call to him. “Give me one more, Omega, and I promise I’ll give you what you need.” 

You wail out, half protest, half pledge, and you’re actively clamping down on him. Working your tight cunt over his shaft, milking him closer and close to the shining edge, and he feels his belly begin to boil. His head pounds and his gland aches, and as soon as you release again, unable to curb yourself from the pleasure he vows, the voice worms its way back into his ear. Chanting now, now, now. 

He spills into you with a mighty roar, stuffing his knot up inside of you as soon as it expands. He digs his teeth into your shoulder, pushes your hips further, and further down, nowhere else to go, but he has to be sure he’s filled you tight. That he can keep you here, locked onto him for as long as it takes to eradicate the delirium, as many times as you need him to fill your fertile little womb. 

And you come again, all from just this. Tight, soft, and bruised, you clamp around his knot as if you’re worried you’ll lose it. And he squeezes his eyes shut at the overstimulation, bites on his tongue to curb the pain, and lets it flourish in glorious pleasure. His cock releases another string of cum, and Joel groans. 

You’re hardly lucid on his chest, trembling, breathing heavily. One of your hands wraps around his sticky shoulder, clutching into his skin, trying to steady yourself. He works carefully to soothe you, to nurture the heavy come down, and avoid a dangerous drop. He scoots himself up the mattress, taking you with him until you’re both comfortably propped against the headboard; there’s no telling how long you’ll be united like this, but he has no intention of rushing it. He drags his large palms over the length of your spine, litters kisses along your hairline, and you both share a whining sound each time he stiffens and spurts inside of you. He allows his eyes to shut, focusing on steadying his breath, the sound of your beating heart. 

Eventually, your body settles. You start to breathe evenly again, grow limp, purring little sounds of contentment. He lifts a hand to push away the hair that sticks to your cheeks, and you reach for it, latching your bony fingers around his wrist. You nuzzle your nose into his palm and wrap your lips around two of his fingers. He lets you suck on them like this for a while, humming, the salty taste of him seeming to quiet your nervous system and ease you back into a state of equilibrium. 

There will be consequences for what’s transpired here. The post-euphoric clarity lays his transgressions bare and forces him to examine them. He feels, quite regrettably, the return of war. That between himself and his nature, though here and now, they are far more intertwined than they’ve ever been. 

He has a decision to make, one that months, days, hours ago seemed so clear. That he will not give way for the monstrosity he harbors, if only to save you from a lifetime of horror and regret. 

But the hours, minutes, seconds have passed, and they dwindle to this moment where he realizes, almost jarringly, how wrong he may have been. That the great fight against what nature bestowed him retreats within your stronghold. The worry is silenced, the weight lifted, the burden removed. He isn’t a soldier, but a man. 

Only a man. So simple, and so freeing. 

“Stay with me?” you mumble as if you can read his mind, letting his fingers slip from your lips, and already drifting to a place somewhere deep between sleep and wake. It’s a single question worth a million, holding the weight of your existence, the entire world. 

He knows he shouldn’t. He knows that if he stays, no amount of self-control will prevent him from indulging your needs over and over again. He knows how brittle his distaste is—was, a façade—and how quickly he will devote himself to you. 

You’re all he would require to live and breathe. 

Most terrifying, he knows the primal urge will only continue to spread. And for some purpose far beyond him, while he’s coated in your scent and slick and the haven of your arms, he won’t be able to find a reason to stop himself from sinking his teeth into that sweet spot upon your neck. 

He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, your kindness, you. You’re a chance at redemption, something he is certain he relinquished decades ago. You’re an opportunity, an outlet to release his grief, his anger, his hatred for this world and his place in it, and turn it into devotion, protection. 

He doesn’t deserve it. 

But the way you look at him now, head nuzzled against his chest, pupil-blown eyes the picture of vulnerability, it satisfies the beast. Sets every nerve ending on fire. Tugs him forward frighteningly taut, unable to recoil. 

You look at him like you need him. 

And he needs to be needed. It’s all he’s ever wanted. 

“Alright,” he whispers. “I’ll stay.” 

[dixonsbrat]

𖥔 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐏 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 𖥔

⊹ he’s been so sleepy when he comes home lately so you decide to wake him up with a nice surprise

⊹ you were being a brat all day so he takes it upon himself to teach you a lesson

⊹ date nights with joel always end with sloppy drunk sex where you’re literally fumbling all over each other

⊹ joel is a certified munch king so whenever he’s eating you out you see literal stars

⊹ needing to fuck pre-outbreak!joel before he goes to work every morning because you know you’re gonna miss him too much

⊹ he loves watching you get on top, all pretty and drunk on his dick as your ride him flawlessly

⊹ whenever joel comes over you never leave the bedroom

⊹ best friend!joel and you get drunk one night and he thinks you’re looking a little too good

⊹ you lose a bet to joel and now he gets to fuck you

⊹ he loves watching the way his cock disappears when he wants to shut you up for being mouthy all day

⊹ joel loves making you all needy for his cock

⊹ you’ve been so needy for him all day that you greet him on the kitchen counter like this

⊹ giving post outbreak!joel a blowjob

⊹ having a quickie while he comes home for lunch aka you

[littlevenicebitch69]

Loved!!

The One You Need | seven

🎶 Rest your head here, pull me closer I'll hold you tight while you let go, girl And I could love you, if you just let me Be the one you need🎶

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader  rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni  summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, absent fathers, minor discussion of baby poop, fluff, cuddling, SMUT, repeated verbal consent, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, hair pulling, hickeys, mild choking, pussy pronouns, terms of endearment [sweetheart, good girl, sweet girl], female reader, reader has hair long enough to pull, no physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 9.1k series masterlist | part six a/n: here’s the last chapter of this fic! it’s been a long time coming and i’ve appreciated each and every one of you for reading, commenting, and reblogging. it was great fun and i hope there’re more stories to tell in the future

It was worse than you imagined. You sister really was on her own despite having a very legally married husband. It only took a day to realize she hadn’t been exaggerating the situation at all. He left for work at five in the morning after not even attempting to help with the baby through the night. Your little nephew was going through a bout of sleep regression, and you witnessed how your sister was the one who went to soothe him when he seemed to wake and cry every hour. And when her husband came home twelve hours later in the evening, he made a beeline for the couch, sat down on it and suddenly had a list of demands.

Bring me a beer. When’s dinner? Did you vacuum today? Why is the washing machine ringing? You should switch those clothes out. And after dinner, he didn’t even bother taking his plate to the sink much less being a fully-functioning adult and cleaning it – or at the very least, rinsing it off.

Your sister’s day to day seemed to be a never ending circle of soothing the baby, changing the baby, feeding the baby, cleaning, cooking, cleaning again, and laundry. How she had managed for so long before hitting her breaking point and calling was beyond you. Now carrying some of the burden, you felt resentment growing for her husband – and for all men. Was this not how your own father had acted when your mom was raising you and your sister? Was he not just as absent-minded? And if these were the two marriages you had for reference, men seemed to take the cake for least helpful and useless humans on the face of the earth. All forty-nine percent of them.

It was a big reason (but not the only reason) as to why you were dodging Joel’s calls. Your first few days with your sister had grown so much anger toward men that the last thing you wanted to do was talk to one – even if he was putting on what you now believed to be an act about being attentive and caring. For the first week, he tried calling two or three times a day, and you let each of them go to voicemail. Your sister had asked who was calling, but you shrugged and insisted it was spam. Now that you’d been with her for two weeks, Joel called less and less. Still, he called once a day at varying times, hoping to catch you in a free moment. What he didn’t realize was you had no free moments as you took some of the weight off your sister’s shoulders.

You closed your laptop as your sister rounded the couch with two cups of coffee. On the carpet in front of you, your nephew was playing with a toy that seemed to only be able to play one song over and over again. With rather poor timing, your phone rang right as you were being handed coffee, and so it was impossible for you to hide the screen which very clearly read “Joel” and not “Spam Risk”. As you went to click the side button and send the call to voicemail, you caught a mischievous glance from your sister.

“Who’s Joel?”

“My neighbor,”

Your sister hid her smile by taking a sip from her coffee. She nodded slowly and let out an acknowledging hum. “He’s spam?”

You shot her a glare, “yes.”

She nodded again, then fixated her attention on her child. “How many times have you slept with spam?”

You took another sip of your coffee before reaching forward to set the mug on the table in front of you. “Not enough to warrant him being so persistent,”

“Must’ve left quite an impression. Why aren’t you answering?”

You pondered how far into this conversation you wanted to go. If you wanted to go into it at all. That childhood in the family home had really done a number on you. Shit, you were sure it had done a number on her, too. That the years of walking on eggshells and trying to figure out what type of mood mom and dad were in had done seemingly irreparable damage. That you couldn’t get yourself to let someone in. That in the times that you’d tried, it wasn’t enough. It ended in heartbreak – both blindsided and not.

And deciding none of that mattered because your sister was in her own sewer of shit, you decided to go with a simple answer. “I think he’s looking for something I can’t give him,”

If she’d been your best friend who you told everything to, she would’ve called bullshit. But it was just your sister, so she nodded in false understanding. You wondered if anyone would ever really know you.

With your morning coffee behind you, you started off on a laundry list of chores – which surprisingly enough, didn’t include actual laundry today. Surely today would blend into all the other days spent here. And would culminate in you growing so frustrated with your brother-in-law that you’d eventually just remove yourself from the room and disappear into the guest bedroom that at this point should’ve just had your name on it.

It was like clockwork. Completely infuriating that you could predict it so easily. He came home, ignored his child, and plopped his ass in his recliner, demanding a beer and asking why the living room hadn’t been vacuumed. You wanted to smash the glass bottle over his head and scream that there weren’t enough hours in the day to do everything. Not when there was an infant that needed attention and caring for. 

And because you knew you were bound to say something you’d regret, you excused yourself from the living room early and retreated to bed with your laptop and some shitty television show you could go numb to. Even though the intent was to turn off your brain, you couldn’t stop thinking about how long you were going to stay here. A couple more days? Weeks? A month or two? Would you ever go back to Texas?

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

The next morning, you woke up in a sheen of sweat. Hair stuck to your cheek and forehead. And you sat up with the sheets pooled around your waist. Fuck. Two weeks and the sex dream about Joel you expected to happen in the first couple days had finally made an appearance. It would’ve been nice to get laid. Of course. But not at the expense of stringing him along. He deserved someone who could open all the way up to him. And lean on him. And depend on him. And all you could do was depend on yourself. No one else could pick up any slack for you. You could do it the best.

The baby shrieked from the other room and you knew it was late enough in the morning that he was up for good and your brother-in-law had already left for work. It was safe for you to re-emerge into the wild. Blindly reaching for the nightstand, you fumbled around for your phone, realizing it wasn’t plugged into the charger. Thinking back through the blending of days, you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d had it.

Padding out and seeing your nephew playing with a rattle, you waved excitedly to him. All but running over, you bent over and gave him a big, loud kiss to the head. Then you turned to finally address your sister who was already brewing a pot of coffee.

“I gotta go to the store today,���

Your sister nodded and picked up a notepad where you could see the grocery list of things she’d already added to it. She was past the point of offering to go with you as the last time that happened, it was an utter nightmare. Toting a fussy infant around while trying to move efficiently through the market was counterintuitive. You just wanted to get in and get out, and you could do that best if you went by yourself.

“Do you know where my phone is?” You looked back over your shoulder at the coffee table with no luck.

“I put it by your keys near the front door. It fell between the couch cushions last night,”

You nodded once – the sneaky couch cushion. Always the likely culprit. “I’m gonna go shower, get a cup of coffee and watch an episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse with my little man,” you pointed at your nephew. At your attention he burst out into a toothless grin and a giggle. “And then I’ll head out for groceries,”

You were quickly learning that nothing ever went to plan with a baby. Everything was constantly derailed. The plan of shower, coffee, and TV was a nice one. But what you couldn’t account for was that halfway through the episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, your nephew was going to have a massive blowout that sent poop up to his shoulder blades. Gagging and choking to keep yourself from upchucking, you ran him to the bathroom while your sister drew the bath. Getting him undressed was a task as removing his onesie meant you got some of the poop in his hair. And bathing him while also dodging the poopy water he slapped in your direction could’ve qualified you for an olympic medal. You ran for the front door as quickly as you could once he was clean again and your sister had him back in a fresh onesie. 

You never thought you’d be so happy to go to the grocery store. Even if it ended up that it seemed like everyone and their mother was doing their shopping all at the same time. Didn’t anyone work anymore?

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Stubborn as all hell and not wanting to make more than one trip out to the car for groceries, you loaded the canvas bags on your shoulders and forearms until they were tugging at your skin and threatening to drop everything you’d just bought on the garage floor.

Struggling to lift your hand to turn the doorknob you got the slightest of grips on it and used your weight to push the door open, while using your foot as a wedge to keep it ajar for you to slither through and into the house. It was commonplace now to enter the house as quietly as possible. The baby was a notoriously light sleeper and you’d already been guilty of accidentally waking him more than once. So sneaking in, you knew you’d made the correct decision when you heard the classical lullabies coming from the nursery. He was out. And elsewhere in the house, you could hear the kitchen sink going. Good. Your sister was catching up on the pile of dirty dishes her husband had left behind.

You huffed and puffed, willing yourself to make it to the kitchen before you dropped the bags to the floor. It seemed as though you were going to make it. A quiet, self-congratulatory cheer was halfway out of your mouth when your breath caught in your throat at the threshold of the kitchen.

Hunched over the kitchen sink, rinsing off a handful of soapy silverware, was a large, strong back with broad shoulders. Far larger than your sister’s. Joel.

Frozen, taking a moment to comprehend that he was actually, truly there, you didn’t say a thing or make another sound. But it was like he could sense someone behind him. After setting the clean silverware down in the drying rack, he looked over his shoulder and spotted you.

“Hey,” he pressed a smile at you. That charming smile you’d gotten really used to seeing back home.

“What are you doing?”

“Well,” he chuckled and looked down at the sink, “I’m gonna finish washing these dishes.” He glanced back up at you, “then I’m throwing a load of towels into the laundry.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. Eyes flicked over him. He was just as you remembered. As if two weeks had been two years and you’d just come back from war. “Where’s my sister?”

“Sleepin’. She was tryin’ to get the little guy down for a nap but he was fussin’. I told her to get some rest,”

Tears started stinging the corners of your eyes, “you put the baby down for a nap?”

He nodded, almost looking confused at your confusion. Why wouldn’t he help with the baby? Little did he know you’d just spent the last couple weeks watching the baby’s father do absolutely nothing. So without saying anything else, you ran to him. Threw your arms over his shoulders and clutched onto him. There was a keen awareness that as you held onto him for dear life, he wrapped his arms around your hips and held you to him. Secure. Steady.

You sniffled and turned your face into the crook of his neck, “I miss you.”

Though he knew you couldn’t see his face, he still tried to hide a grin. Instead, he turned and pressed a kiss to the side of your head, “I miss you, too.” He let you go as you slowly backed away from him and wiped your fingers beneath your eyes to make sure he didn’t see any tears fall. But he stared into your eyes and smiled a little wider, helping you catch the one tear that had made it down your cheek. He swiped it away with his thumb, “you were screening my calls.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I–”

He pursed his lips and shook his head, “don’t apologize. I know.” Joel pressed another smile and cupped his hand over the back of your head to guide you closer so he could kiss your forehead. “I know I was asking a lot of you too soon. I know that,” he lowered his hands to yours and intertwined your fingers together. “I was scared you were going to run too far away from me. That I wouldn’t be able to wrangle you back. And I… pushed too hard. I know I did because I saw the same thing in your sister today. So afraid to ask for help. Like someone’s gonna think you’re a burden if you can’t do it all,”

You sniffled again and Joel raised his hand again to swipe another tear away before it could fall fully down your cheek. 

“You’re not a burden because despite your best efforts, I’m falling for you. Take the trash out to the bins for you. Snake the drain when your hair clogs it. Plant flowers in the winter and pick a bouquet for you in the spring. I want to do all those things, so all you gotta do is ask me. Ask me and I’ll do anything for you,”

Nodding, you leaned forward and pressed your forehead to Joel’s chest. He scritched his fingers through your hair. All you could do was sniffle again. Because how in the hell did you stumble upon a guy like him when… “My sister’s husband is just like our dad. And I feel bad for her,”

Joel took a deep breath. He didn’t want to be too hasty with a response to this one. Finally he settled on one. “Is that why you dodged me? Thought maybe I’d turn out to be like your dad and your sister’s husband?” He lowered his head closer to yours when you didn’t stir. You were just trying to protect yourself. He knew that, too. “You’re a good girl. You know that?”

You raised your head and looked up at him. Something you expected to hear more likely within the bedroom, had never sounded so innocent. Joel grinned a little wider and brushed his fingers through your hair to push it away from your face.

“A good girl. An understanding sister. And a helluva woman,”

On any other day, you would’ve blushed and hid your face from him at a comment like that. But today, you let his words rain over you. You wanted him to continue. To keep proving that he was leaps and bounds different from other men. But your nephew had other plans. 

And at the sound of his crying, your sister padded out of her room and spotted you and Joel in the kitchen. She blinked sleepily, beaming at the sight of you two before she carried on to tend to the baby. 

You stayed turned in her direction for a moment after she’d already left your scope of vision. But at the feeling of Joel’s hands squeezing your hips, you turned your attention back to him. “You stayin’ here, or…?”

He shook his head, “I’ve got a hotel ‘bout 10 minutes away.”

“Well, hurry up, then. I’ll throw the towels in the wash,”

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

There you were. Once again. Lounging in Joel Miller’s (hotel) bed. His khaki duffle bag was on the desk pushed up against the corner of the room. A small backpack of some items of yours sat beside it. And his phone was on the nightstand beside you. That struck you as the greenest of all green flags because the phone was in striking distance should you get curious, but Joel was not. He was in the bathroom, where now, the shower turned off. You had come in together, but despite your lips on his neck with teeth grazing over it, he insisted on showering first. To get the airport off of him.

The bathroom door creaked open and you looked in that direction, awaiting him to return to your line of vision. He did just a second later. Rounded the corner out of the bathroom and stood there at the foot of the bed – a white towel slung around his hips, haphazardly secured at the front. He held a smaller white towel and scrubbed it over his head to rid his hair of dripping water.

“Now that’s a sight I missed,” he trailed his eyes over your body, splayed out on the bed. He tossed the smaller of the towels onto the desk and crawled onto the bed. 

He was so close now. His position above you forced you to recline, laying down fully. Caged there between his hands on either side of your body, you lifted your head off the pillow and kissed him. Pleased that when you lowered your head back to the bed, he followed with you as to not break your kiss. His tongue pressed to your mouth in search of entry, and once you let it in, it was greeted by your own tongue. 

Joel hummed into your mouth and let his hips fall down to yours so he could move his hands to your face. Cupping either side of your head, he brushed his thumbs back and forth over your cheeks. After a couple weeks of living life more closely resembling a nun, mixed with this morning’s sex dream, you felt redeemed by a makeout session. Longing and yearning paired with frenzied lips. Teeth gently tugging at soft, plush skin. Tongue vying for attention and power. Wandering hands in search of the next bit of purchase. You bucked your hips upward, dragging your mound over the bulge between his legs. That white towel was doing as many wonders as his gray sweatpants did. It felt like you were in college again, on some sad twin mattress, dry-humping a co-ed that wasn’t going to give you any amount of pleasure. This time, you knew the man you were dry-humping would.

Joel’s lips tightened into a smile against yours and he pulled his hips back to tease you… to keep you from getting the friction you wanted. He snaked his hand between you and the pillow and grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of your head. With a slight yank, your head tilted backward, leaving your neck exposed, and you at his mercy.

“Joel,” you moaned, feeling the throbbing in your core intensify.

“Only good girls get to do that,” he smirked and pulled your hair a little harder. With your neck stretched out fully, he leaned forward and bit it, close to the collarbone. 

Instead of letting go, he sucked on it, and you absolutely knew what he was doing… Marking you. You’d wear the bruise for a few days, hiding it like a teenager who feared getting caught with it, but who would secretly ogle it in the mirror to remember the day it was given to you.

“I’m a good girl,” you pleaded, trying to lift your hips again. 

But now he moved his other hand down and gripped into your hips. Forced it back down to the bed. Too easily, you thought. “Are you? Last time I checked, good girls didn’t disappear for two weeks without a goodbye fuck,”

You pursed your lips together in a pout. That was fair. Had you not sprung your exit on him at the very last possible moment, knowing it wouldn’t amount to any sort of closure. For either of you. “I want to be one for you,”

Joel did his best to hide his smile. But you saw it crack through this domineering facade. “Yeah?”

You nodded with widened eyes and batting eyelashes. Tracing down his chest and stomach, your hands found their purchase on the top of the towel at his hips. You looked down at it for the quickest of moments. Just enough time to spot the outline of his cock beneath the fabric. Then you flicked your gaze back up to his eyes.

“Show me what kind of good girl you are,”

With a clear indication to proceed, you looked back down at his waist and curled your fingers beneath the fabric. Though it hadn’t budged from where he’d originally secured it, it became undone with very little force from you. The towel fell open and partially exposed him to you. Realizing your jaw had fallen slack, you closed it and swallowed while simultaneously pulling the towel to the side until he was completely free from it.

There was something oddly intimate about his complete nudity juxtaposed by your lack thereof. His member bobbed up and down on its own volition as he grew harder and you reached forward to wrap your fingers around him. Though with the way you were positioned together, you had to rotate your hand palm up, and twist it in a less than desirable way to be able to stroke him at all. 

His eyes drifted down to his waist and caught sight of your hand. Just having you touch him again was pleasurable enough. If he was being honest, his own hand hadn’t been cutting it in the past couple weeks. But he saw you struggle to keep pace at the awkward angle and he grabbed hold of your wrist and pulled it off of him. What he didn’t expect was that you’d cry out, and with a sense of near-panic, try to reach for his length again.

Realizing he’d asked you to show him, and then very quickly was keeping you from doing so like some sort of punishment, his heart twisted into a knot. “Sorry– sorry. Just let me…” He sat back on his heels and shifted his weight from one knee to the other, to reposition himself, straddling your body. 

He lifted your hand, palm facing up, and spit into it before he released your wrist, which you promptly brought back to his shaft. Now with a better angle, you were able to stroke him with far more ease. Your eyes stayed glued to it, focused on how your hand slid from the base all the way up to the head, where your fingers curled over it before sliding back down to the base.

“Lemme see your eyes,”

On command, you looked up at Joel. His jaw had fallen slack and he stared at you with something devilish in his eyes. You licked your lips and inhaled sharply, wishing you were a little less clothed at the moment. Or at the very least, not wearing an old college t-shirt. A little visual stimulation right now could’ve done him some good.

“You wanna suck my dick, sweetheart?”

It was a far more gentle proposal than you’d been expecting, but nonetheless, you nodded eagerly. You lifted your head to try to get at him as quickly as possible, but he shook his head and clicked his teeth until you succumbed and laid back down. This time when he peeled your hand off of him, he did so with a nod to assure you, you’d have it back in a moment.

“Take your shirt off for me?”

Thank God. You reached for the hem with haste and tore the thing off, flinging it over the side of the bed. Left in your bra – not the sexiest of them but still with a little padding for a slight push-up – you went to resume your place, but Joel caught you and helped you up a little further so you weren’t in a fully supine position. Now with your head propped up at a slight angle on the pillows, he brought his knees further up until he was straddled just below your shoulders. You flicked your eyes at him nervously. This was new.

“This alright?” He asked with his length in his hand, slowly stroking himself. There was a moment’s pause on your end, eyes flicking back and forth between him and his cock, before you nodded. He smiled to himself as you fixated on the way he played with his member. “Let me hear you say it,”

You looked back up at him. How could you have forgotten you were in the presence of the king of verbal consent? “This is good,”

“Good girl,” he smiled. With slow deliberation, he eased his hips forward and guided himself into your awaiting mouth. His free hand moved to the headboard, palm pressed flat against it to steady himself. He knew he’d grow weak feeling your mouth working him over.

And he was right. The moment your lips closed around the head of his cock, he let out a labored groan. His eyes fluttered shut and he let his chest deflate for what seemed like the first time in a long time. Now with both of his hands against the headboard, you held onto the base of his cock gently while you sucked and licked at the head; pulling more and more precum from him with each lick to the underside.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he looked down at caught you staring at him. 

You blushed and inhaled through your nose. Allowing your eyes to drift shut, you worked your mouth down halfway down his length, then pulled back so as to not choke on him. With a slow rhythm, you did that over. And over. And over again. Joel wasn’t touching you. Wasn’t saying anything particularly dirty to you. Yet you felt yourself drip in your underwear and you squeezed your thighs together. 

He must’ve heard the fabric of your jeans rustle because a chuckle floated out of his throat and your eyes snapped open. He stared down at you, head cocked to the side, and had a hard time deciding if he wanted to look at your eyes or the way his shaft moved in and out of your mouth. You kept in a staring match until your hands drifted around his legs and urged him forward even more. At that, Joel bowed his head and was decidedly focused on your eyes.

He obeyed your urging, but with a watchful gaze, he went even further than you expected him to. The head of his cock pressed at the back of your throat. Your eyes filled with tears. One even escaped the corner of your eye and rolled down to your temple. Fingers gripped tighter to the back of his thighs as he pushed the limit.

“Look at you gettin’ all of me in your mouth,” he’d grinned breathlessly, all but shoving the entirety of his length past your lips. 

You’d managed to hold your breath while he explored the far ends of the boundary, but with the next breath you tried to take, you choked and sputtered around his length. Joel pulled out of your mouth. Strands of saliva kept you connected for just a moment before they broke as he stroked himself again.

He bent over, nearly folding himself in half to lower his face to yours. Despite your heavy breathing, his free hand cupped around your neck and squeezed the sides of it gently. And he kissed you with lust and fire. No consideration or care for the fact that you’d just had him in his mouth. He lapped at your lips and tongue, drinking you up until you’d regained your breath enough for his liking. 

Joel unfolded himself and placed both hands against the headboard again. Eyes glued to you, he watched as you dove forward for his length, and took it in your mouth again. Reinvigorated, you sloppily dragged your lips over him before pulling back just enough to move your mouth down to his balls.

“F’you keep doing that, I’m gonna come,” he muttered through his teeth trying not to paint your face with his spend then and there.

But when his comment was met with a challenging hum from you, he lowered one hand from the headboard and reached behind him, stretching as much as he could while not disturbing what you were doing. His fingers hit the waistband of your jeans and he kept going. He pushed them beneath the tight fabric, and then pressed into your skin to get his fingertips beneath your underwear.

Your legs flinched together when he passed over your clit. You brought a hand up to his shaft for the twofold purpose of pleasuring him and keeping it out of the way while you paid his balls some attention. But with his middle finger circling your button, your mouth dropped open, “please, Joel.”

His response came to you in a soft tone. “I need to taste this pussy, sweet girl. Make me come and I’ll eat you out,”

The lightness of it – despite his words being wonderfully and horribly sexual – caught you off guard to the point that your eyes found his and you licked up over his delicate anatomy. Carefully, you sucked one of his balls into your mouth and rolled your tongue over it. The more you continued, the more you felt Joel unable to keep pace. His fingers stopped and started randomly. Brain slowly losing the ability to function as the pleasure swept through. You switched over to his other testicle and gave it the same gentle treatment when his finger stopped for good this time. He slid his hand out of your pants and curled it around the front half of his length, cautious to not accidentally bump into your face.

“M’gonna come,” he mumbled frantically, giving himself a few short tugs. “Where do you want it?”

You grinned and pulled away from his balls, “anywhere.”

“Where,” he all but demanded. His cheeks were flushed as he besought you for a clear answer.

“Mouth,” you cupped your hands around his thighs again. “My mouth,”

A guttural moan came from Joel and he angled his member at your open mouth with not a second to spare. He spilled onto your tongue with another groan. The muscles in his shoulders and arms tensed up until his orgasm was over. He released his shaft and it smacked down to your tongue. You picked up where he left off and wrapped your lips around him. Despite being wary of continuing gently, his body shuddered when you gave a final suck to him.

“Wait, wait…” he eased his shaft out of your mouth and hand and began to work himself backward away from your head.

Again, you’d only just swallowed when he bent over again and kissed you with an open mouth. He was, undoubtedly, the most surprising man you’d ever come across. Soon though, his lips left yours and he made his way down to your neck, where you stretched out to give him room to do so. His lips stayed by your ear, and ever so stealthily, he settled himself between your legs. Easing your thighs apart so he could drop a knee between them.

Joel kissed and licked your neck for a moment before he nipped on your earlobe, “you’re wearin’ too many clothes.” He smiled at your reaction when you nuzzled your face into his shoulder. “How about we take this bra off?” 

His hand snaked around to your back and paused at the clasp until he heard you give him the go ahead. “Yes,”

Within seconds, he pulled away to part your chests only as far as he needed to in order to take the garment off you and toss it to the floor. He returned his lips to your ear with another quiet demand, “arms above your head.” Pride flooding him when you obeyed yet again. He crossed your wrists over one another and held them with one of his massive hands. Joel kept his eyes locked on yours when he trailed his free hand down between your bodies and set his fingertips on the button of your pants. “You gonna let me eat you out?”

You nodded enthusiastically and responded all at the same time, “yes. Please, God, yes,”

Joel undid the button and zipper on your jeans. With your help of lifting your lower half off the bed, he managed to shove your pants down to your calves. “She still taste as good as I remember?”

You giggled, playfully fighting against his grip on your wrists. Testing the waters. “It’s been two weeks, not two months,”

“Two weeks too long when I want it everyday,” he released your hands and kissed his way down your chest, between your breasts, down to your belly button, until he met the waistband of your underwear. He tugged on your jeans and freed your legs from them completely. Spreading your legs wider, he lowered himself between them and draped one of your legs over his shoulder. He kissed your inner thigh while his fingers toyed with the lace at the crease of your leg, “can I?”

“Joel, just do it, pl–” your words died in your throat when Joel pulled your underwear to the side and latched his mouth on your clit. “Please,” you moaned and immediately buried your fingers in his hair. Both of your hands cradled the back of his head, fighting the urge to push it down harder on you. 

He opened and closed his mouth around you, craning his head lower to lap at your dripping entrance. “Goddamn. Love that you get this wet just from sucking my cock,”

Just from the way your underwear had stuck to you, you were sure you were a mess. Slicked up and ready for Joel. He wouldn’t need to do too much for you here. Shit, the sex dream itself had nearly gotten you there. Yet he kept working. Licking from your entrance, all the way up to your clit. 

You shivered and tugged on his hair, silently begging him not to stop. The noises coming from him – the hums and the moans – were a pretty good sign that he wasn’t going to. He lifted your leg off his shoulder and pushed it back toward your chest. It raised the angle he was able to get at you and he used that advantage to close his lips around your clit again. It made your calf spasm in his hand which he remedied by massaging his fingers into the muscle. And most of all, you knew he was making more of a mess of you than you’d already been before. With each lick and swipe of his tongue, a wave of arousal flowed out of you. He even brought a hand up to your entrance and smeared your slick all over as if proving the point even further. 

Joel eased his middle finger into you with his palm facing upward. Your body fought him but he fought back by biting your inner thigh, and a shriek left your throat at the sharp feeling.

You clutched at his hair tighter, tugging on it with fervor, “so good, Joel. S’good,”

He pulled his finger out of you, much to your dismay. But very quickly pushed it back inside. This time with the addition of his ring finger. You let out a coo… a hum… a plea for him to get you there. To just tip you a little further, off the edge, foregoing the wherewithal to be embarrassed by how quickly he could.

You came without warning. You’d thought you had a minute left but there you were coming undone, moaning and trembling beneath him. In fact, the first coherent words out of your mouth were exclamations of apology. You brought a hand up over your mouth, trying to ground yourself as your body still jerked to each of Joel’s movements. Sorry’s passed your lips in a steady stream.

Joel didn’t answer right away. Just removed his fingers from your core and kept kissing and licking your swollen cunt until your body stopped spasming. He kissed up your hip, to your navel, and continued past it. It wasn’t until he pressed his lips to the curve of your breast that he finally lifted his head. He stared at your lips and wiped his hand over his beard to clean away some of your release before he leaned back in and kissed you.

You accepted it wholeheartedly, trying to pay him back for your lack of warning before you came. He’d been aware enough to warn you of his. “I meant to warn you, I–”

Joel pulled away from you and shook his head, “don’t you fucking dare apologize for coming.” He lowered his weight to you and cupped one of your breasts in his hand. He kneaded the supple flesh and lifted his other hand to the side of your head. Lips pecked your jawline until he closed in on your ear. “Want me to fuck you?” 

He whispered so softly you almost didn’t hear it. Had you not been so tuned into him, you might’ve missed it. But you nodded eagerly, arching your body off the bed to grind up against him.

His lips stretched into a smile against your jaw. “Take your underwear off,” he paused, waiting as you did so. He only lifted himself far enough up for you to complete the job. Then, brimming with pride, he whispered to you again, “put me inside you.”

“Joel,” you whined, hoping he’d take control of the situation.

But he was intent on matching your stubbornness. “If you want it, take it,” he grinned again against your ear. 

This time there wasn’t hesitation on your end. You reached between your bodies and wrapped your fingers around his girth. He nodded softly and you brought him between your spread legs. Careful, deliberate actions until you pushed him past your tight ring of muscle and he sunk inside you.

“Attagirl,” he lifted his head and kissed you tenderly.

You’d expected frantic, hurried sex. The type of starved lovers after weeks away. Something a little more similar to the oral sex you’d both just given and received. But instead of quick thrusts that sent your head into the headboard, Joel let himself rest inside you for an extra minute. He kissed your lips, and cheek, and jaw, before he made his way back up to your lips. Just content for the time being to relish in the feeling of him throbbing inside you, and your body responding to it with tugging clenches.

“Joel,” you whined again.

This time he cupped both hands around your cheeks and hushed you. “Let me take my time with you,”

“I need you to move though. Fuck me. Hard. And now.”

He smiled a little wider. Before he gave you a verbal answer, he rocked his hips backward and then slowly thrust back into you. “Be patient. Let me take care of you,”

It wasn’t lost on you that he was saying that a lot lately. Let me take care of you. If this… mind-blowing sex and earth-shattering orgasms were included in the “taking care of you”, you were inclined to let him. So you bit your tongue and set your hands on his ribs, content to let him take care of you however he saw fit. You doubted you’d have any objections if it was going to end in another orgasm.

Joel’s languid thrusts pierced into you in steady repetition. And though they weren’t fast or rough, they were just as deep and powerful as you remembered. Maybe even more so as the slowness allowed for his eyes to remain on your face; catching every miniscule change in your expression. From the breathless smile that spread across your face when his cock passed over your gspot, to the wince that replaced it when the head of his length pressed against your cervix. 

He kissed you again, this one a tender thing that matched the care and precision of his thrusts inside you. Each forward motion of himself into your anatomy fanned the flame inside you. A heat rose in your chest and migrated up your neck and to your cheeks. You saw a similar flush in Joel’s own chest and cheeks. It gave you great pleasure to know you could satisfy him as much as he could satisfy you.

You clutched at his sides a little tighter when a particularly deep thrust made the edges of your vision blur. “Want you to come inside me,”

“Yeah?” He nodded, reassuring, “I will.”

In times past, even if the sex wasn’t hurried, it wasn’t necessarily an event. Not like this. Not like Joel was content to fuck up into you for hours if that’s what it took. It surely wasn’t going to. But not once did his pace quicken or falter. Not when you purposefully squeezed your muscles around him to spit him on. Not when you lifted your hips off the bed to meet him halfway. In fact, he just held you down. Pinned a hand to your waist and forced you flush to the bed so he could keep his desired speed. 

But in the effort of once again meeting each other at stubbornness, you decided to take matters into your own hand. You pressed against his chest with force, not surprised when he immediately leaned away from you. He didn’t go as far as to pull out, but he did stare down at you, utterly confused. Just after your last request, he wasn’t expecting you to be stopping him.

“I wanna be on top,” you pressed on his shoulder thinking he’d roll over just as easily.

But Joel just laughed at you and shook his head. He pulled out to the tip and then rolled his hips forward back into you. However, you pushed on his chest again, more insistent this time. Joel caught one of your wrists in his hand and pinned it down by your head.

“Why not?”

“‘Cause you’re gonna go too fast and we’re havin’ a moment,”

You glared playfully at him. If he wasn’t going to let you do it off the bat, you knew you could play harder. Lifting your head off the pillow, you nipped at his jaw, making your slow way to his neck, where you dragged your tongue over his jugular. “I want to ride you… pretty please?” You suckled on his neck and let out an airy whimper, “wanna feel you all the way up in my stomach. Feel you…”

Joel cut you off with a well-placed arm around your back and he carefully flipped you both over without slipping out of you. Victorious, you wiggled your hips, drilling him into you to the hilt.

“Don’t get too cocky. I would’ve come if you said rearrange your guts, so really I did you a favor,”

You rolled your eyes and set your hands on his chest, using the leverage to roll your hips back and forth along his length. You’d play by his rules. You’d go slow and let the moment continue. You wouldn’t try to ride him within an inch of his life just for the heck of it. Shit, you weren’t far off of your next orgasm when he was on top of you. Now you knew your time on top of him was finite.

He kept his hands on your hips as if he wasn’t sure you’d comply with him. Like he’d have to use every remaining ounce of strength to keep you moving how he wanted you to. But on top of him, able to fully harness the friction against your clit you’d been searching for, it wasn’t hard to want to comply. You could get everything your wanted and more. So as your movements kept him deep, and your anatomy clung and pulled at him, you neared another orgasm with haste.

You thought he could feel it coming. You were sure he could. The grin on his face was either because he knew your climax was imminent, or because his was. Either way, it seemed like a good time to you. Your head bowed forward, chin dropping to your chest, and your body stiffened. Everything stopped for you as you tried to fight it off. To make it last a little while longer. But the ever-present grip Joel had on your hips tightened. Fingers squeezed your supple flesh. And he thrust up into you with power you weren’t sure he’d be able to get at this angle.

The orgasm crashed into you and you were only half-aware of the filth coming out of Joel’s mouth. The words, despite being completely debauched, seemed almost normal now. The only thing that caught you was how his expression twisted when you clenched down on him. How his fingers flexed around your hip. And how he then pushed you down on him, making it impossible for you to wriggle away as he came inside you. 

You collapsed down against his chest, breathing in as much fresh air as you could get into his lungs. A thin sheen of sweat covered his neck and chest but you couldn’t have cared any less to lay your cheek against it. As your breathing began to even out, you felt one of Joel’s hands wrap around your backside and reach for his member. He eased himself out of you, humming to match the groan you let out. 

It wasn’t the time to think about it, but you couldn’t get your mind off the thought of how long you’d get to keep Joel out here. If he’d stay with you a few days. Maybe a week. How were you ever going to leave your sister in a lurch, without help, if you returned back home. Home to Texas.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Despite having showered before sex, both you and Joel showered again after it. Bound to go back to your sister’s. But you were already back in bed waiting for him, while Joel rustled through his duffle bag in search of a clean shirt and pair of jeans. He’d already asked you in the shower what that funny look on your face was all about. But you’d told him it was nothing, and though he didn’t particularly like that answer, he didn’t press it at the time.

Now as he glanced over at you on the bed and saw the same look on your face, he figured he’d try again. “Spooked?”

You flicked your eyes over at him, “no. Just thinking about how I’m gonna have to leave her here with him.”

Joel nodded and slid a navy blue shirt over his head. “You can stay here as long as you need,” he tilted his head to the side. “I mean, you don’t have to rush home for me. I’m not goin’ anywhere,”

You nodded as he neared with a pair of jeans in his hands. He sat on the edge of the bed beside you and leaned in for a quick kiss. It was there and gone in a flash. Replaced by the feeling of his hand on your thigh.

“I know this is a weird thing to bring up but I feel like we should talk about it before we get too deep into this thing and it gets brutal or mes–”

“I hate this preface,” you mumbled, searching his face for any indication of what this apparently uncomfortable conversation was going to be.

“Do you want kids?” He caught your widening eyes and gripped into your thigh a little tighter as if to keep you both grounded in reality. “I can’t give you any, ‘cause you know… snipped. And before you say it’s reversible or anything, I don’t want to get it reversed.”

“I wasn’t going to say it’s reversible,” you pressed a smile.

“Well…” he took a breath. “I just don’t want to get too far into this if the answer is yes because then I won’t be able to give you what you want. And you deserve that… if you want it,”

“I don’t know. I haven’t met a man that I could see myself having kids with,”

“But what if that’s me?”

“It won’t be.” Off his shocked expression, you reached forward too and set your own hand on his leg, “I mean, if seeing myself with you means no kids, then that’s not even an option to consider if I see myself with you. It’s like you being young… it’s not an option,”

Joel smirked and raised his hands to your ribs to tickle you, “that was kinda mean.”

You nudged his hands away from you and leaned in instead, resting yourself against his chest. “Right now, at this moment, I’d rather have you and nothing than a sub-par husband and a kid,”

“I didn’t say nothin’ about getting married. The vasectomy got nothin’ to do with that,”

“We’ll see how it goes. No pressure. Y’know ‘cause in fifteen years you might be a real pain in my ass,” you winked.

He tackled you down to the bed and smothered your neck and face with endless kisses until you were laughing hysterically.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

The following days passed slowly. For the first time in a long time, you were happy about that. Time wasn’t flying by before your very eyes. You had time to relish Joel. To be continually stunned by him every time he stepped up to do something for your nephew that your sister’s husband should’ve been doing. There was time to lounge and talk. To play around. To be told by an older woman in the grocery store that “you and your husband have made the cutest little boy”.

And when his flight home came a few days later, you drove him to the airport and clutched at his sweater with every ounce of strength you had. Told him you didn’t know when you’d be home, but it would be soon. And he didn’t ask you to clarify. Didn’t ask if that meant in a couple days, a week, or a month. Just cupped his hands over your cheeks and nodded. Told you it was okay. Trusted that you’d come home when you were ready to.

That only took about a week. One more week of watching your brother-in-law sit on his ass while you helped raise his child. You broke the news to your sister and she did her best to hide her fear and pain. You did your best to hide yours, too. On the way out, you also left her with some words of encouragement. To not let him sit on his ass. To force him to take an active role. And if he couldn’t, then to get the fuck out. Though she nodded and said she would, you knew she’d always stick around and be left unsatisfied.

Joel had told you to let him know when you were coming home. That he’d pick you up from the airport. But you decided to let him off the hook. To handle your own business and call an Uber to scoop you up.

He was in your front yard, mowing the lawn when you showed up. He let the gas engine rumble to a stop when the car pulled up. Stood, watching you, with his hands on his hips as you rounded to the trunk of your car and lifted out your suitcase though the driver came around to help you. You murmured an “I got it” to him and Joel found it endearing. How you said that to him on the first day you moved into the neighborhood and put up such a fight at his insistence to help. What he’d learn later, and what this sad Uber driver would never get the chance to learn, is that you were all bark and no bite.

You rolled your suitcase over the curb and let it fall to the half-cut grass. Got up in front of Joel and smirked at him, “you’re mowing my lawn?”

He smiled back. Much more pleasant. “Yeah. It was so long, it was bringing down my property value. You’re a bad neighbor,”

“Yeah,” you shifted your gaze to the grass momentarily. “Maybe I’ll be a better girlfriend,”

A red flush crept up over Joel’s cheeks. He nodded as if he was sure of it. “Probably not,”

Your jaw dropped and you slapped his chest playfully.

Joel caught your hands and held them against him. He leaned in for a kiss. Something rather chaste, but he inhaled to take you in before he stood back up. With a nod in the direction of his house, he smiled again, “go on to the house. I got a fresh pot of coffee goin’.”

“I want to shower,”

“Shower there. I got clothes,”

You pointed at your suitcase, “I have laundry.”

“I’ll bring it in. Go on.” He nodded again in the direction of his home, “I’ll meet you there after I finish up here,”

You relented and made off for his home after one more kiss. Before you’d even fully crossed the street, you heard his old push mower roar back to life. With his front door unlocked, you stepped inside and came face to face with a vase full of fresh cut flowers on the table in the entryway. Like he’d been expecting you the whole time.