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feenoire · 9 days ago

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Thorned Innocence

dark!joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

rating: explicit 18+ minors dni

word count: 4.1k

warnings: DDDNE, non-consensual rough sex, coercion, virginity loss, cunnilingus, substance use and drugging, age difference (19/50).

summary: on christmas eve, everything takes a dark turn when your sister has to leave, leaving you alone with her husband.

a/n: i never planned to write this, but the idea has been stuck in my mind. as a reminder, this is purely fictional, and i do not condone nor romanticize anything like this in real life. if this story is bothering you in any way, please take care of yourself. your well-being is the most important thing <𝟑. this is my first time writing smut btw and i tried my best :) also, im sorry for being inactive lately, everything keeps falling apart. ive been feeling overwhelmed and tired, but im trying to focus on writing because it helps me cope when everything feels out of control. i appreciate your support and patience, it means the world to me. thank you 𐙚

dividers by @strangergraphics

The snow falls softly outside the window, blanketing the ground in a soft, powdery white. It’s Christmas night, and the kitchen is filled with the comfortable glow of warm, dim light. The scent of freshly baked cookies fills the air as you carefully shape the dough into little deer for your sister, Ana, and her husband, Joel.

The cozy crackle of the fire in the living room adds to the peaceful atmosphere. Your heart is full of love and excitement as you can’t wait to share the little deer-shaped cookies with them.

You’ve been living under their roof for a month now, ever since your dad passed away. Your sister insists on it, not wanting you to be alone in your parents’ house, even though you’re nineteen and perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. She can’t bear the thought of you being all alone, even if you’re an adult.

She’s almost like a mother to you, despite the twenty-year age gap. Since you were a baby, she’s been there, always taking care of you to help your dad. Filling the void left by your mother, who passed away giving birth to you. That was until Joel married her when you were ten, and then she left.

Sometimes, it feels like it’s your fault that your mother isn’t here, and as a child, you would wake up in the middle of the night, crying, overwhelmed with guilt. But your sister was always there to calm you, wrapping you in her arm, and reassuring you that it wasn’t your fault. She would remind you that your mother’s love was an act of sacrifice and that you were never to blame. Her soothing words always helped lift the weight from your heart.

You love your sister deeply, and you often feel that the least you can do is show your gratitude in small, meaningful ways. Baking those cookies for her and Joel is your way of expressing how thankful you are for everything they’ve done for you.

“What are you doing, doll?” Ana asks, stepping into the kitchen with a warm smile.

You don’t hear her footsteps, and it’s almost as if she’s purposely creeping up behind you. Startled, you quickly turn around and hide the baked cookies behind your back. “Nothing,” you say, trying to act casual.

“It’s not nothing. I can smell it from upstairs. Move!” she says with a playful laugh, gently nudging you aside to peek behind you.

“No!”

Her eyes light up as she spots the deer-shaped cookies. “Oh my god, this is so cute!”

“You’re not supposed to see it now,” you say, a hint of disappointment in your voice as you cross your arms, a small pout forming on your lips.

“Well, I already saw it. Can I try one?” she asks with a teasing smile, reaching for a cookie.

“It was supposed to be a surprise, and now it’s ruined,” you reply, trying to hide a smile.

“Wait… you made this for me?”

You bow your head, trying to hide your rosy cheeks, and bite your lip before speaking softly, “Yeah… I made this for you and Joel.” Your voice is quiet, almost shy.

“You’re too sweet,” she says, her voice filled with affection. She looks at you with an expression full of love. “You didn’t have to do this, but it means so much.”

“I wanted to,” you say softly. “It’s the least I can do… for everything you’ve done for me.”

She smiles warmly and pulls you into a hug. You always love the feeling of being wrapped in her arms—it’s a warmth that feels like coming home.

“I love you, doll.”

You smile, your voice barely above a whisper as you try not to get too emotional, “I love you, too.”

“For god’s sake, just try the cookies,” you say with a playful laugh as you gently push her away, your cheeks still warm.

“Fine,” she says, grabbing one of the warm cookies and taking a bite, then she grins. “This is amazing! You really outdid yourself.”

“Really? Thanks,” your cheeks turning a little pink under her praise.

Too caught up in the moment, you don’t realize Joel has been standing in the kitchen doorway, watching the two of you all this time. It isn’t until he coughs that you notice him, his brown eyes fixed on you.

“Honey, come over here and try the cookie she made!” Ana says excitedly. “She baked these just for us.”

“Really? Reckon it’s alright if I try one, sweetheart?” Joel asks you, his voice deep with a slow southern drawl.

“Yeah, actually they’re for both of you,” you say, smiling shyly.

Joel steps closer, his hand reaching for a cookie, the other gently resting on your waist as he stands behind you a little too long. The touch lingers for a moment before he pulls back, but you remain lost in the warmth of the moment with your sister, not noticing.

Joel looks at you and speaks, “You really know how to make somethin’ special.”

You look up at him, unaware that there’s more behind his words, something unspoken. “Thanks, Joel. It’s supposed to be eaten with cold milk to taste even better.”

You cannot help but miss your dad so much. But as you stand there, surrounded by your sister’s laughter, and Joel’s quiet presence, you find comfort. It feels like the warmth of family, a sense of belonging that you’ve longed for.

The sound of the phone ringing fills the room, breaking the peaceful moment. Ana reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone, glancing at the screen before answering. “Hello?”

Her facial expression shifts, her smile fading into something more urgent. Eyes widening slightly, eyebrows furrowing with concern.

“What is it?” Joel asks.

You kneel on the couch in the quiet living room, your chin resting on your crossed arms which you fold over the backrest. Watching your sister’s car grow smaller in the distance until it finally vanishes behind the thin lace curtains.

Meanwhile, Joel watches quietly from behind, secretly enjoying the sight of you at that moment, a twisted smirk slowly forming on his lips. His thoughts drifts, imagining the feel of the silken skin of your back and waist beneath his touch, savoring the vulnerability of your posture on the couch.

“Sweetheart,” he calls for you.

You turn around and sit down, looking up at him. He can see the tears shimmer in your eyes, threatening to fall, while your soft lips slightly pouty.

“She’ll probably be back ‘fore you even wake up,” Joel says gently as he tries to soothe you.

“I know, but it’s Christmas Eve,” you speak softly. “Why couldn’t they have called another doctor instead of her?”

“Most of ‘em are probably outta town now.”

Ana suddenly had to rush to the hospital after hearing about a car accident in the local town. Joel wanted to drive her, but she firmly urged him to stay behind, telling him that she didn’t want you to be left alone on such a night. As the door closed behind her, Joel couldn’t help but feel a dark sense of satisfaction being alone with you.

“You don’t have to be sad, I’m here, little girl,” he whispers softly. Joel slides his hand gently along your soft thigh as he kneels before you. You’re so beautiful up close, like a delicate porcelain doll—fragile, with a vision of innocence.

You smile softly, sadness in your eyes. “Thank you, Joel,” you whisper, and wrap your arms around him.

The feeling of your body pressed against his sends a shiver down his spine and stirs undeniable arousal within him. His pulse quickens and he aches for more, so he holds you tighter.

It’s not just desire—it’s a need, dark, and uncontrollable.

Joel had always seen you as his wife’s little sister. He’d watched you grow up from a distance, never once thinking of you in any way other than family, you were just a kid in his eyes—until you moved in with them.

You’ve grown up and blossomed into a lovely young woman. You’re beautiful in a way that feels dangerous, almost too much to bear, and it unsettles him. You’re still shy, still that quiet little girl, but there’s something new there, something he can’t look away from.

You’ve been consuming his thoughts for the last four weeks, invading his mind, even in his sleep. To him, you are both salvation and damnation.

Joel takes a deep breath, reluctantly pulling away. His big hands gently cradle your warm cheeks as he looks into your eyes. “How ‘bout we watch somethin’ you love? Got a go-to Christmas movie?”

“Edward Scissorhands?”

He chuckles, shaking his head with a playful grin. “That ain’t a Christmas movie, sweetheart.”

“Yes, it is!”

“I don’t know ‘bout that,” he says. “But if you wanna watch it, I’m all for it.”

The rosy smile returns to your face as you nod. “Okay.”

“Alright, c’mon.”

“I’m gonna put all the cookies in the jar first. Wait for me?”

Joel sits on the couch, remote in hand, pretending to focus on the screen, but his eyes dart to the doorway every few seconds. He hears your footsteps before he sees you, and his heart flutters. You walk in, holding a small bowl of the deer-shaped cookies.

His eyes trace every inch of you, and you’re utterly unaware of it. He loves the way your lips curve, the innocent tilt of your head, your eyes blinking, like a shy little creature who doesn’t even know how dangerous it is to be this close to him.

You place the bowl on the coffee table, and you settle beside him, close enough that he can feel the warmth of your body.

As time passes, Joel’s attention drifts away from the movie. Instead, it’s entirely on you. The way your smile lights up as you watch Kim dancing in the snowfall while Edward carves an angelic ice sculpture of her. The lace-trimmed strap of your top slips from your shoulders, revealing the gentle curve of your collar bones, which move rhythmically with each breath. Your leg brushes against his, sending a wave of heat through him.

Joel shifts uncomfortably. His hand moves, adjusting the growing tension in his jeans, and he pretends to cough.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” he mutters. “Wait here.”

He leaves the room without looking at you, and all he hears is the faint sound of your soft voice saying, “Okay.”

Instead of heading to the bathroom, Joel makes his way to the kitchen. He takes a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, and takes a long swig straight from the bottle, savoring the burn.

Convincing himself that this is something he must do, he steadies his breath. There you are, oblivious, sitting innocently on the couch. Tonight, he has you all to himself, and he’s not about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

Joel makes two cups of hot cocoa, the steam rising from the mugs. Then, he reaches into his back pocket, pulls out a bottle of Rohypnol, and crushes a pill between his fingers. He stirs the powder into your Peter Rabbit mug.

Again, he adjusts the growing tent in his jeans, the dark thrill of what he plans to do with you tonight coursing through him. A low groan escapes his lips at the sensation. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself before he grabs the mugs and heads back to the living room.

“Here, sweetheart, drink this.”

You happily take the mug from him, unaware of the danger hidden within. “Thanks, Joel!” You take a sip of the warm drink.

He returns to your side, his hand squeezes your thigh lightly. “Do you like it?” he asks with a hint of a smirk.

“Hmm, let’s try it with the cookie,” you say cheerfully, grabbing one for yourself and one for Joel, you smile innocent and unaware.

In twenty minutes’ time, he sees your eyes blinking slowly, the sleepiness overtaking you. The mug is empty in your hands.

A cruel smirk forms on his lips as he watches you in your vulnerable state. “C’mon, little girl, let’s go to your room.”

With unsettling calmness, he gently lifts your weak body, cradling you in his arms. He walks down the hall to your bedroom in the stillness of the cold night.

Your room feels dreamy and cozy, with its dim, soft, and golden light. There’s a bed with ruffled bedding, an antique wooden mirror, some pretty flowers on the dresser, and a porcelain doll sitting on your bed.

The chamber is delicate, reflecting you, Joel thinks.

He lays you down on your bed. His gaze, dark and predatory, moves over your smaller body, taking in every detail, memorizing the way you look beneath him—so beautiful and perfect.

Joel never wanted anything the way he wants you. You’ve awakened something within him—something dark and primal—that he never knew existed. It’s like a hunger that cannot be ignored, a need that must be fulfilled, or he’ll die.

He leans in, your breath warm against his skin.

“Joel,” you whisper, your drooping eyes locking with his.

Joel slowly but firmly crushes his lips against yours. He groans as he tastes the sweetness of your lips for the first time.

You begin to move beneath him in an attempt to get away, but it’s no use. He observes you struggling weakly, darkly pleased.

His kiss loses its tenderness and becomes rough and desperate. A soft whimper escapes your lips, and God, he loves that sound.

With merciless force, he pushes his tongue past your delicate lips, tasting and exploring while leaving a trail of moisture behind. The taste of you drives him wild, his grip tightens on your body.

“No…”

“It’s alright, little girl. It’s just me,” he says, his voice deep and strained with arousal.

Joel trails his lips down your neck. When he reaches the fluttering pulse at your throat, his teeth graze your flesh before he bites down, but not enough to leave a mark. Then, his tongue moves slowly, wetly, tasting your skin.

After a while, his hands move with deliberate care as he begins to undress you from your sleepwear.

Joel’s breath catches in his throat. You’re exquisite, every inch of you more perfect than he imagines. His eyes roam over your naked form, drinking in every detail. The curve of your soft breasts rises and falls with each breath.

“So pretty.”

He squeezes your breasts with his large hands and roughly sucks on your nipples, as though trying to coax something out. All the while, he ruts his hard cock against you.

The weak pressure of your hands against his shoulders and your soft whimpers, makes him groan. He can feel his cock throbbing painfully hard, pulsing beneath his jeans at the sensation.

“Joel… please.”

He leans back, pulling your nipple with him before releasing it with a soft pop, leaving trails of drool behind.

“You want more? Is that why you’re cryin’?”

He gently pushes your hair away from your tear-streaked face and he presses his lips against your damp cheeks, tasting the salt of your tears.

Then, he slowly removes your white ruched lace panties, noticing the dampness at the center. He laughs as he runs his fingers over the fabric before slipping them into his pocket.

You weakly try to close your knees, but Joel presses his fingers sharply into your skin, forcing them open. The pain makes you cry out, tears falling from your eyes.

“Pathetic,” he mutters under his breath.

Joel lets out a low groan at the sight of your little pussy. It’s glistening and swollen, and he knows that when he thrusts his massive cock inside, it will be searingly hot and impossibly tight.

“Well, look at that, such a pretty pussy, little girl,” he murmurs, his voice filled with disbelief and hunger. “And you’ve been keepin’ this from me?”

He uses his fingers to spread your folds, admiring the swollen little clit hidden beneath. It’s pulsing and gleaming in the dim light, soaking his finger.

Joel starts rubbing your swollen clit, and it doesn’t take long for you to become more wet and needy. Your tight hole clenches rhythmically around nothing as he rubs you faster, he savors the sight of it and your helpless cries.

“Jesus, baby, you’re soaking wet,” he chuckles darkly. “Ain’t nobody ever touched this sweet little pussy before, huh? So fuckin’ needy.”

“Stop,” you say breathlessly.

“Need to get my mouth on you.”

Captivated by the sight of your little cunt drooling all over your thighs, he pulls his finger away. You gasp and wail as he starts using his mouth and noisily slurping at your wet cunt.

It’s rare that he gets the chance to taste such a beautiful, untouched little pussy. And he’s going to savor every second of it.

He greedily laps at your wetness, pushing his tongue into your slit before assaulting your clit with hard and relentless strokes. Then, he lowers his face, pressing his nose into your clit as his tongue delves deeply into your core, forcing you open. His movements are wild, drilling through your cunt and pushing against your walls as his fingers painfully sink into your thighs.

He groans against you, swallowing all the sweet juice pouring from you, like a fountain of youth. “How the hell you taste this good, little girl?” he growls.

After a while, you’re trembling in his grip. Your sobs and pleas fill his ears as you weakly kick your feet against his back, your hands unable to move, futilely tugging at his salt-and-pepper hair as you cum. Your juices flooded his mouth and soaking the sheets beneath you.

“That’s my good girl.”

He feels the wetness of his precum staining his jeans, a growl escaping him as he quickly undoes his belt and takes off his pants to free his aching cock, desperate for release.

He retrieves his phone from his jeans pocket, presses record, and sets it on your bedside table, carefully angling it to capture every raw detail of the two of you before he begins.

Joel knows it’s going to hurt—his cock is massive, thick veins throbbing beneath the thin skin.

He ruts his hips against yours, his bulbous tip gathering your slickness along his hard cock. A soft whimper escapes your lips each time he brushes against your clit.

“So sensitive.”

Joel wraps the base of his girthy cock with one hand, the other finding your hip, holding you still as he lines his cock with your tiny hole and split you in half.

You whimper as you struggle with the overwhelming stretch of just the tip pressing past your entrance and start squirming. “Hurts!”

An animalistic groan escapes his lips as your pussy swallows his angry, red tip with a wet squelch and a tense pulse, stretching you open.

“You’re so goddamn tight, little girl. Fuckin’ made for me,” he grits his teeth, barely holding back.

“Hurts… stop.”

Your pretty face is flushed and streaked with tears as he watches you, lips red and swollen, whimpering in pain. He enjoys the way your face is contorted. “Be quiet, little girl.”

Joel inches his cock deeper, the earlier strokes of his tongue doing little to ease the intense stretch of your cunt around him. Patience wearing thin, he roughly forces his cock inside you in one go, nudging against your cervix, making you moan in pain.

Desire clouds his mind, blinding him to your well-being.

Your moan turns into a broken hiccup, followed by a soft sob as Joel starts to pound into your tight hole with a ruthless, brutal force.

“Joel, hurts,” you cry, your hands desperately clawing at his chest, muscles weak and useless.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, little girl,” he moans from the pleasure, his grip on your hips tightening. “Takin’ all of my cock so well. Such a good girl.”

Joel is in heaven. His eyes are closed as he focuses on the sensation of your hot, wet cunt wrapping tightly around his massive cock, his lips muttering incoherent praises for how perfect you feel. He moves faster and rougher, slamming into your little pussy with pure force, like a man possessed. “Perfect little cunt, all fuckin’ mine.”

“No, please, s-stop…”

Ignoring your pain and cries for him to stop, he continues to pound into you relentlessly, pushing you further beyond your limits. “I’m sorry, baby… it feels too good to stop.”

His darkened eyes trace every inch of you, your skin slick with sweat despite the cold weather. Your breasts bounce with each brutal trust, and his gaze locks on his cock buried deep in your swollen, red lips. The slick, blood-coated friction as he slides in and out of you fills the room with a sickening, lewd squelch, sending a shiver through him as his eyes flutter shut in dark pleasure, he lets out a low snarl.

“Look at that, little girl, we were made for each other,” his voice low and strained.

Your breath grows ragged, choking on sobs and moans, yet your back arches and hips lift, instinctively chasing his cock, your body betraying every shred of resistance.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Joel grins with dark satisfaction at the reaction he’s coaxed out of you. “Look at her, baby, drippin’ like a faucet, can’t even control herself.”

He bites back a groan, his hand sliding to your lower stomach, feeling the thick bulge of his cock pressing against his calloused palm with every deep, punishing thrust, each one slamming into your cervix with merciless force.

A warmth builds in your stomach. He grunts and curses under his breath, feeling your pussy clamping down on him, the tightness driving him wild as your body trembling as you near the edge.

“My little girl wanna cum?” he whispers in your ear, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. “C’mon, baby, cum for me.”

“Joel,” you cry.

“I know, baby,” he grunts. “I know.”

Your body quivers, eyes half-lidded as they lock with his, mouth falls open, letting out a choked moan. He relentlessly pounds into your cunt, you squeeze tightly around him, your clit twitching and pulsing. He drives you to the edge, forcing you to squirt. The hot, slick release splashed against his abdomen and thighs.

“God damn!” he growls. “Oh, that’s it, baby… good girl.”

Joel kisses you deeply. A sense of pride and bliss fills him, knowing he’s able to make you squirt on your first time.

Still rock-hard, he keeps thrusting into you after your orgasm fades, consumed by the insatiable spell you have on him. Your pussy is like a drug to him, better than anyone Joel’s ever had.

You become a crying, trembling mess beneath him, overstimulated and shaking uncontrollably, unable to endure the overwhelming thrusts.

“T-too much.”

“I ain’t fuckin’ done with you yet,” he growls into your mouth. “You’ll take every damn second I give ya, and you’ll be beggin’ before I even think ‘bout stoppin’.”

Joel pulls out sharply, slapping your swollen pussy hard, making you squeak and whimper. He manhandles you, spinning your body around and pushing your face into the pillow. He grunts loudly as he enters you again, sliding deep before his grip tightens around your waist, each thrust more brutal and faster, chasing his own release.

His chest is flush to your back. He breathes in the floral scent of your skin, his nose grazing your neck as his thrusts lose their rhythm, becoming messy and desperate.

Your walls pulse and squeeze around him once more, desperately trying to milk him dry. “Don’t worry, little girl. Gonna pump you full of my cum.”

He feels lightheaded, chest heaving with each breath, sweat glazing his skin.

The sound of your muffled moans makes his cock twitch deep inside, pushing him closer to the edge. His body quivers as the pressure inside him peaks. With a final, punishing trust, a deep, guttural whimper escapes his throat as he cums deep inside you, painting your walls with a creamy, thick white, filling you to the brim.

Your nails faintly claw at his arm, your body quivering beneath him, as your orgasm washes over you for the third time, leaving you whimpering. His heat and wetness blend with yours as he holds you close.

“You’re all mine now, baby,” he growls softly. “I’ll make sure you feel every inch of me again.”

The pill he gave you will leave you with no memory of what he does. He honestly cannot wait to collect his own personal porn collection of you next time his wife leaves the house again.

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