#sugar daddy!joel miller

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Take Care of You [9]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 9,950

Mood board and borders by @saradika

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: we back, baby. and we also barely edited so if you catch a typo don't hate me. also this was supposed to end in a different spot but then i got carried away in the middle so i had to split it 🥴]

Chapter Specific Warnings: angst, heartbreak, binge drinking to ease emotional turmoil, mild violence, mentions of blood and injury

09: LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU

"i still haven't figured out how to sit across from you, and not be madly in love with everything you do." ⏤ william c. hannon

Three years ago, Nima tried to convince you to go skydiving with her. She begged and she pleaded, but you told her ‘no’ on account of thinking she was a crazy person for wanting to jump out of a perfectly good plane. Which was hilarious now considering you were sitting beside Joel wanting to pull open the door and dive out. The irony was not lost on you.

The only reason you hadn’t gone scrambling for the door was because Joel was forced to take a work call a few minutes into the flight. He hadn’t moved away. Joel stayed right next to you with his arm behind you as he spoke, and every few moments he’d glance at you with a silent apology and shake his head. You’d reply with a tight lipped smile and go back to mindlessly scrolling through instagram. 

Unfortunately the mindlessly scrolling was not so mindless. Since leaving Vegas, you had a high pitch ringing in the back of your mind like an endless, echoing siren. Married. A married man. Joel was⏤ Your teeth were clenched together so hard you wondered if Joel could hear them grinding against one another. Yesterday had been filled with so much anxiety, and you had managed to work through it by the end of the night. Mostly. But this was worse. This was so much worse. 

Married?

Your throat suddenly felt tight, eyes stinging with unshed tears, and you hastily undid your seatbelt and stood. Joel glanced your way and you pointed to the back of the plane and mouthed the word ‘bathroom’ to him. He nodded with a soft smile, and you spun on your heel and practically sprinted to the tiny plane bathroom. You struggled to get the folding door shut and the stewardess who sat not far away stared at you in confusion. You gave her an awkward wave and finally got it latched. 

“Fuck.” You shoved your face in your hands, leaning against the wall, and held back your tears. You were confused and frustrated, and you couldn’t even find relief in a good cry because Joel would spot it in a heartbeat no matter how much you tried to put yourself back together. The thought of confronting him about this right now was your worst nightmare. You hadn’t had the time to process any of the wild thoughts pinging around your head yet.

Your mind was at war with itself. On one hand, maybe you were being stupid and naive. For the last month and a half you’ve spent nearly every day with Joel and on the days you weren’t actively seeing him the two of you would talk either over a call or through text. You knew Yo-yo for 24 hours. Sure, she seemed nice and sincere, but what if Rosalind sent her to screw with you? For all you knew, Yo-yo had cruel intentions and was trying to drive a wedge between you and Joel. By taking her word you’d be playing right into that trap. What she said about the other sugar baby and about Joel being married? Maybe it was all fake and you’ve been stressing for no reason.

On the other hand, Joel didn’t kiss you. He didn’t kiss you because he wanted to ‘do right by you’. Joel asked for time. Was it because he needed to get a divorce? Worse. Was he married with absolutely no plans to get divorced and just buying time for something else? 

God, if you kept up this line of thought you were gonna vomit. Quickly, you turned to the sink to splash a little cold water on your face in hopes it would help you get your shit together for the next thirty minutes. Half an hour and you’d be on the ground. But then what? It would be a miracle if you kept it together for thirty minutes let alone any longer. 

You took in a long, slow breath and tried to clear your mind. When you felt steady enough, you stepped out of the bathroom. As tempting as it was to hide in there for the rest of the flight, it would probably be a red flag for Joel that something was wrong. You wandered back over to Joel and at your approach, and at the sight of you, he covered the bottom of his phone and whispered, “You alright?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded quickly and sat back down.

“I’m sorry. Jus’ another minute.” 

You waved your hands at him as nonchalantly as you could and he went back to his call. You leaned back in the seat, phone in hand, and Joel readjusted his arm on the back of the seat so he could settle his hand on your shoulder. As he always did, his thumb was tracing circles on your shoulder. An action you always loved, but now an intrusive thought slammed into you⏤ does he do this with his wife? The question was so startling, so sickening, that you couldn’t bite back the nausea that rolled through your body. You jumped up so fast you nearly stumbled over your feet, and you scrambled for the bathroom. 

Vaguely, you heard your name behind you, but you didn’t stop until you reached the toilet. You fell to your knees and threw up. The taste of acid in your mouth made you wince, but getting it all up did bring some relief. That relief was short lived though as you felt a large, warm hand settle on your back.

“Jesus, sugar.” He said in a soothing voice as he rubbed your back. “What’s goin’ on? Have you felt sick all mornin’?”

You spat into the toilet bowl, trying to get the taste of bile out of your mouth, before reaching out and flushing the toilet. You tried to stand, and Joel hooked his arm around you to help you up. He called out of the bathroom and a second later the stewardess brought in a cup of water and a ginger ale. Joel handed you the water and kept his hand rubbing up and down on your back.

“I’m⏤ I’m fine.” You shook your head and took a sip of water to swish and spit into the sink. “Really.”

“Obviously not.” Joel replied. “C’mon, let’s sit you down.”

“Joel…” You tried to argue, but he wasn’t hearing it. He kept an arm around you as he carefully led you back to the seat. He brought the bottle of ginger ale with you and the moment you finished the water he took the cup out of your hand to replace it with the soda. “I feel better now. It’s fine.”

“You’ve been off this mornin'. I was worried.” Joel lifted a hand to feel your forehead. It made sense that Joel picked up on your distress. He had always been so good at reading you. “You seemed fine when we first woke up. When exactly did you start feelin' sick?”

You took a sip of the ginger ale, “I…I don’t know. After breakfast maybe.” You lied. The sincerity in his eyes, the concern in his voice, it was both bringing you comfort and making you sick again all at once. You felt so stupid. Either you were freaking out over a lie a woman you barely knew told you or you were being tricked into feelings by a married man. Either way, you felt pathetic. “Your, um, your work call, Joel.”

Joel shook his head in response and didn’t even bother addressing the work call he stopped. He set a hand on the back of your neck and his thumb was lightly ghosting over your skin. You closed your eyes and took a slow breath in and out through your nose. “Tell me what I can do, sugar.”

“I⏤” You swallowed the lump in your throat. You forced your eyes open, finding Joel’s furrowed brow and worried gaze already on you, and it made you want to cry. You shook your head, “I, um, I think I just wanna lay down for a while. If that’s okay.”

“Course it’s okay.” He replied. 

The seat the two of you were sharing wasn’t long enough for you to lay down without laying your head on Joel’s lap. You planned on moving to the other couch seats to lay down, but Joel’s hand was still on the back of your neck and he lightly began to guide you down. Too tired to even try and move, you settled your head on his thigh and curled your body up onto the rest of the seat. 

In any other situation, this would be one of the most comfortable spots on Earth. Your head rested on his thick, firm thigh, and Joel’s hand traced where he could reach. Up and down your jawline and neck⏤ his thumb and forefinger would occasionally massage your earlobe. You tried to calm your racing thoughts. The truth was, you didn’t know the truth yet. It was a fact you kept repeating in your head in hopes it would numb the sharp pain of your worst fears, but those intrusive thoughts continued to pummel you.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl.” Joel murmured while his fingers dragged across your skin. “What a shitty way to end this weekend.” You hummed in agreement. This really was a shitty way to close out what started as one of the best weekends of your life.

Avoiding Joel made you realize how involved in your life he was. After landing in LA, Joel tried to drag you to a doctor and only conceded when you told him it was probably a 24 hour bug and you just wanted to sleep. He called you later that night to check in on you, and you managed to talk to him for a few minutes before lying about wanting to go to bed early. Come Monday morning, you went to work despite Joel texting you that you should stay home. Trying to focus at work was physically painful. Enough so that after the nightmare Monday had been, you left midway through the day today claiming to Henry that you didn’t feel well. It wasn’t even a full blown lie. You felt like shit.

Nima threw the folder of papers onto her desk and set her hands on her hips, “I’m gonna hit him with my car.”

“Please don’t.” You mumbled with your chin resting in your palm as you leaned on the other side of her desk. After leaving work, you came directly to Nima’s office. Going home and sitting on your couch, alone with your thoughts, would only make you ten times more miserable.

“No, actually, my car isn’t big enough. I’m gonna commandeer a bus and hit him with that.”

“I haven’t confirmed anything yet. For all I know, I’m being this pathetic over nothing.”

Nima snapped her hand up and pointed at you with a glare, “No. I will not have you shit talking yourself when the only person we should be shit talking is Joel Miller and his wife.”

You groaned and let your head fall to the desk. The words ‘Joel Miller and his wife’ made you viscerally ill. The time you spent not talking to Joel Monday night you spent stalking people on social media. You reached dead ends very quickly though since Joel didn’t have any social media whatsoever. The easiest solution was to just look Joel in the eyes and ask him for the truth, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You wanted to know the truth, but you were scared to actually seek it out. 

If you asked Joel for the truth, if you confronted him, then he’d give it to you.

What if the truth was something you didn’t want to hear?

“Alrighty, babe, real talk.” Nima said and you lifted your head, keeping your chin resting on the wood, and saw she had dropped down into her office chair. To meet your eye line, she held her chin on the desk across from you to mirror your position. “I can threaten and plot his demise all I want, but I know I’m not allowed to kill him until this is confirmed or denied.” She twisted her lips. “You deserve the truth.”

You pouted, “How am I supposed to ask him about this, Nima??”

Her eyebrows furrowed in concern, “If you did ask… How sure are you that he’d answer truthfully?”

You pushed up and leaned back in the chair. That was a good question, and with anyone else it would probably be a real concern. However, you weren’t worried about that. You truly, deep down, believed that if you confronted Joel about this he would give you the truth. 

“I really think he would.” You answered. “Is that naive of me?”

“You know him better than I do.”

This entire situation made you question that. Did you know him? You knew he grew up in Austin. He had a younger brother, Tommy, and it was just them and his mom for most of his childhood. You knew he attended one year in college when his mom passed away⏤ cancer. Joel dropped out of college to take care of his brother and picked up a job in construction. That’s where he got his start. His first boss saw he had a knack for more than just the manual labor and trusted him with more and more until Joel was running sites for the man. At 27, Joel’s girlfriend of three months got pregnant. They planned to make it work, but she left when Sarah was two weeks old. You knew he adopted Ellie three years later. That he earned his bachelor’s degree in business at home through online classes while raising two young girls and working a full time job. That he started Miller Construction shortly after earning that degree, and it blew up from there.

You knew despite being a tough guy, he didn’t like horror movies.

You knew his favorite whiskey was Lagavulin⏤ neat.

The one thing you didn’t know was if he was married or not.

“I am going to suggest something,” Nima began, “And I want you to listen before you call me crazy.” You shot her confused look and she continued on. “I have this cousin.” You groaned and Nima chastised you to listen. It seemed like she had a cousin available for every situation that arose, and half the people she called cousin weren’t even technically related to her by blood. Anytime you asked her about it all she’d say was ‘Korean moms’ love to talk’, as if that clarified anything for you. “Seriously. He’s dating a private eye. With one text, we can get some answers.”

You shook your head, “Nima, that’s insane.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, hiring a private investigator is insane.” 

“Look, it’ll get us reliable answers.” Nima argued. “The truth.”

You rolled the idea around in your head. It was literally the epitome of paranoid absurdity, but you were wondering if that’s the point you were at. Would it be better to find out this way? That way when you finally did confront Joel you wouldn’t be blind sided by the answer. Hell, if the answer turned out to be ‘no, he isn’t married’ then you can chalk up the last few days as time wasted and move on with your life. That being said, it did seem like an invasion of Joel’s privacy. 

“That feels…” You paused, “Illegal?”

“It’s not illegal to hire a PI.” Nima countered then tilted her head. “I think. I’m not a lawyer, but people do it on TV all the time, right?”

“Well, that logic is foolproof.” 

“I’m not gonna do it if you tell me you don’t want to do it.” Nima said firmly. She crossed her arms and gave a small little shrug. “But you have to do something. Either this or just call him right now and tell him the two of you need to talk.” There was a protective sincerity in her eyes that felt like a security blanket being settled on your shoulders. “I don’t want to see you get more attached to this guy just to be hurt. I don’t want him to lie to you.”

You knew Nima only had your best interests in mind. Technically, Joel had given you no reason not to trust him. Half the time you thought on this topic you convinced yourself you were overreacting and being a pathetic, paranoid mess. Yo-yo, as nice and fun as she had been, was a virtual stranger to you. Her word shouldn’t trump Joel’s. You knew all of that, and you wanted to trust him. However, it felt like some broken part of you was looking for something to be wrong. Joel Miller was too good to be true. Why would someone like him be interested in someone like you? There had to be something else going on. According to your ex, you hadn’t even been worthy of him and Joel Miller was ten times the man he was. 

“Okay, do it.” You blurted and hated yourself for doing so.

Nima held your gaze for a second, but you pushed to stand and crossed her office to her private bathroom. You took one of the paper towels, dampening it, and set it on the back of your neck in a poor attempt to ground yourself. For a while longer, you just stood there in front of the sink. Not staring at yourself, but staring forward at a singular spot as your thoughts raced. You needed a positive thought. Just one would do, and you were prepared to drag it out of your thick skull kicking and screaming if necessary. 

“Everything is going to be okay.” You mumbled to yourself softly. 

The whispered words did nothing for your anxiety. However, the memory of him did. You found comfort looking back at the soft moments spent with Joel and let yourself fall down that rabbit hole. The temporary peace was nice, but it didn't last. Finding strength you didn’t know you had today, you splashed your face one more time and then left the bathroom.

Your eyes immediately landed on Nima who stared back with wide eyes. Nima spoke first, “What?”

“What?” You repeated. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh, I thought you said something.” Nima flipped her phone over and settled her hand on top of it. You glanced from her face to her phone and back again. A look of misery flickered across her features. You tilted your head in question. “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.”

“Nima.” You crossed the room quickly. “Did they already text back??”

“No. Yes. Maybe?” Nima shook her head. “Not exactly.”

“Nima.”

She twisted her lips and drummed her nails against the plastic case of her phone. You shot her another look and she blew out a sigh. “He sent me a response, but it’s like half an answer. Half a report. We should wait until he can⏤”

“What did he say?”

“Apparently, he’s working on a case for someone else right now and had a database right in front of him so all he had to do was type in⏤”

“Nima, please.” You blurted. It felt like your heart was caught in your throat. You couldn’t breathe and you didn't feel coherent enough to string together a thought. Her hesitance was an answer in and of itself. You rubbed your throat, your other arm wrapping around your torso in a poor attempt to hold yourself together, and gasped. “Just say it.”

“He’s married, babe.” Nima mumbled. You knew the words had been coming, but they still overwhelmed you. The air left your lungs as if someone had gut punched you and you fell back into the seat in front of her desk. “He said he’d send me the certificate when he could, but he has to finish this job first. I’m so sorry. I am so, so sorry. I⏤”

Nima stopped herself from speaking as she came around her desk and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You sat in her embrace for as long as your shattering mind could endure and then shook your head, “I need a drink. Drinks. Plural.”

“It’s three in the afternoon, babe.” Nima mumbled in concern. You shot her a dry look and she offered you a tight lipped smile. “Drinks it is! Let’s go. We can go back to my place and⏤”

“No.” You pushed to stand. “I wanna go out.”

“Oh… kay. Where?”

“Anywhere.” You turned and began to leave.

Nima was scrambling to gather her belongings into her strawberry shaped purse before rushing out after you. “Just one drink though. I hate being the voice of reason, but we should limit ourselves to one drink.”

One drink turned into two which turned into three which turned into twelve.

By 6 PM, you were borderline wasted. It was by no means the best decision you’ve ever made, but you couldn’t classify it as your worst considering that, for the first time since leaving Vegas, you didn’t feel sad or defeated. No, those blue emotions had turned into a burning shade of red. You had finally found your anger and all it took was copious amounts of alcohol. 

“I mean, married?” You scoffed as you stood at the bar with Nima at your side. “That’s⏤ That’s illegal.” Nima nodded in agreement as she blindly tried to find the straw in her drink with her tongue. You reached out and pushed it toward her lips. “And worse than illegal! It’s fucking rude.”

“So rude.” Nima slurped at the last of her drink and all you could hear was the rattling of ice in her glass. She pulled away to slam the cup down and pointed at you⏤ her pink hair had been let down from the braid to messily rest around her shoulders. “You should get a new sugar daddy!” You stuck your tongue out in disgust and shook your head. “No! This is such a good idea.” Nima began to look around the bar. “Let’s find you a super hot, super not married sugar daddy.”

“I don’t want a new sugar daddy. I want another drink.” You leaned on the bar and waited for the bartender to look your way. Nima and you had bounced to a few bars. The two of you, back when you were sober, decided to start drinking in an area that had multiple bars all within walking distance. The one you were in now wasn’t familiar to you⏤ it wasn’t a place you and Nima had been to before. It was a bit too upscale for your liking. Sober you would not have been a fan. Drunk you? Loving it.

Nima was tapping on your shoulder rapidly and when you looked her way she was pointing across the bar to God knows who. “He looks like he wouldn’t marry someone without your permission.”

“That’s,” You shook your head, “not my situation.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head and looked back toward the bartender who was busy with a group of women further down the bar. The sound of vibrating vaguely filled the air and you leaned closer to Nima who immediately wrapped her arms around you in a hug. “You’re vibrating.”

“You’re vibrating.”

You found her purse and opened it so you could rifle through it. It dawned on you then that somewhere around bar two and drink five you had shoved your phone in her purse for safe keeping. When you finally managed to pull it out, Joel’s face was flashing on the screen and you yelped in surprise. You tossed the phone onto the bar and held your face between your hands.

“Oh, no. Oh, no, no.” You shook your head and the vibration stopped. Joel’s picture disappeared and was replaced with a notification of a missed call that joined the notification telling you that you had unread messages. Your eyes snapped to Nima who was trying to drink out of her empty cup again. “Joel.”

“Bastard man.” Nima edited.

“Dinner.” You grimaced. “At 7. I’m supposed to get dinner with Joel at 7. It’s 6:35.”

Nima shook her head and crunched the ice she had shoveled into her mouth, “Bastard man can go to dinner with his wife tonight.”

 You grimaced, “I hate all the words you just used.”

The bartender began to wander over and Nima turned to order more drinks. You picked up your phone and leaned against the bartop with your elbow. With a frown and furrowed brow, you opened your text messages. Every unread text was from Joel unsurprisingly. The first came in at 4:29 and it was a simple, ‘Hey sugar, I’m excited to see you tonight’. The next was almost exactly an hour later and it said, ‘Hope your day’s been alright. We still on for tonight?’. Finally, the most recent at 6:15, was just your name with a question mark.

You set the phone back down before the temptation to reply could overcome you. It only sat on the bartop for a second before it began to vibrate violently as another call came in. Joel’s face filled the screen and you felt a wave of sadness drag you under. The fact that you were mourning the lack of his presence to this degree was probably a sign you were doing this ‘sugar baby’ thing very wrong.

“Maybe I should answer it.” You voiced the thought aloud.

Nima caught it and gasped before slapping her hand on top of the still buzzing phone, “No, ma’am! You will not be doing that.” The bartender set two new drinks between the two of you. Nima pushed one in front of you and moved the straw to point directly at you. “Drink.”

You took a sip then spoke, “I don’t even know the whole story⏤” Nima pushed your face back to the straw so you took another long sip. “Maybe it’s a misunderstanding…” This time your lips found their way to the straw on their own accord and you took a sip that could be argued as dangerously long. “I need to talk to him. Confront him. Demand answers.”

“Yes. To all of that. Eventually.” Nima replied with a nod. She reached forward and bopped you on the nose with her finger. “But not tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know one thing in life,” Nima held up the one finger she used to bop your nose, “You do not have serious conversations while drunk.”

You shook your head with a pout, “I thought you said you don’t like being the voice of reason.”

“If it means helping you, I’ll always lean toward reason, babe.” 

The two of you went back to drinking. Your vibrating phone stopped and a few seconds passed before a notification for a voicemail popped up. You turned to Nima, “Can I listen to it? That’s not talking. That’s listening.”

Nima chewed on her straw slowly before bobbing her head in an affirmative nod, “I shall allow it.”

You picked up the phone to listen to the message he left you.

‘Hey, sugar.’ Joel’s voice rumbled over the line and you felt your chest physically ache at the sound. You closed your eyes in annoyance with yourself. If you hadn’t fallen so hard, so fast for this man you wouldn’t be in this scenario to begin with. ‘Gotta say I’m a little worried. Haven’t heard from ya all day. Gimme a call when ya get this.’

You groaned and set your head down on the bar. Guilt gnawed at you. It felt childish of you to be ghosting him like this, and that wasn’t your typical go to move. You had enough respect for the people in your life to address them when needed rather than hide behind voicemail. With the guilt was a swirling vortex of anger. You were angry at Joel for not being up front with you. You were angry at Yo-Yo for being the one to plant the initial doubt that started all this. You were angry at yourself most of all. Angry that you felt guilt at all, angry that you had foolishly placed so much trust in a man you barely knew, angry that despite everything there was still a part of you that craved his presence. You missed his touch and his voice. You missed those burning brown eyes and the way his very glance could melt you into a puddle.

“You okay, babe?” Nima’s voice asked softly. You shook your head without lifting it. “I’m sorry. I can break his knee caps if you want?”

“What?” You lifted your gaze.

“What?” She replied innocently. 

The phone began to vibrate again startling you. He had just called so you didn’t expect him to call again, but then again you were supposed to be in your apartment waiting for him to pick you up for dinner. You pictured him standing at your door dressed up and holding a bouquet of flowers. Nausea rolled over you in waves, and you grabbed your mixed drink thinking it could cure your troubles.

A few minutes passed before another voicemail was left. You snatched your phone up and shoved it back into Nima’s purse so it would be out of your line of sight⏤ not even bothering to listen to the second voicemail. Tomorrow, you decided. Tomorrow you would confront Joel and have this difficult conversation. You both finished the drinks in front of you as the lively bar continued to thrive around you.

“Why is he married?” You asked suddenly. Nima must have known it wasn’t a question you expected an actual answer to as she stayed silent. You rested your face in your hands and sighed. With your eyes closed against your hands like this you began to feel dizzy. A sure sign that you should stop drinking. Nima rubbed your back soothingly and you dropped your hands to shoot her an appreciative glance. “You’re the best best friend a girl could ask for.”

“I know, babe. And you know what else I know?” Nima squished your cheeks together with a wide grin, “You deserve the universe in a gold hand basket, and any man who can’t see that or who would play games with your big, loving heart doesn’t deserve you.”

You laughed and Nima chuckled herself before letting go of your face to pick up her empty glass. Her tongue struggled to find the straw but once it did she tried to take a big gulp only to get drops and air. Nima pulled away from her straw and furrowed her brow, “Who finished my drink?”

With another laugh, you raised your hand to order two more drinks. At this point you’ve already had so much to drink, what would one more hurt? You knew the hangover tomorrow was going to be a bad one, but a part of you was looking forward to it. There would be no mourning Joel tomorrow if your head hurt too much to even think his name. 

Nima successfully managed to distract you again as she drunkenly delved into a story you weren’t quite following, but you enjoyed the way she told it. A low whistle interrupted the moment of peace the two of you had found. You glanced past Nima to see two men in business suits wandering over. Nothing about them stood out to you. One was brunet and the other blond, but they both looked like they never grew out of the frat lifestyle on a college campus.

“We saw you two pretty ladies from over there and wanted to come and offer you our company.” The blond greeted smugly.

Nima turned in her seat to face him and waved her hand at him while taking a long sip of her drink until the ice rattled in the glass. Then she pulled the straw out of her mouth to finally speak with a shake of her head, “Sorry, we don’t speak english.”

“You just said that in English.” The blond chuckled.

“Sorry, sorry.” Nima waved her hand once more. “I don’t understand your accent.”

You snickered under your breath while chewing on your straw. The brunet stepped forward to stand side by side with the other and shook his head, “No need to be a bitch. We just wanted to talk.”

“Oh, you haven’t even begun to see bitchy yet.” Nima pointed her glass in their direction⏤ a bit of ice sloshing out with the exaggerated movement. “I can show you bitchy.” She reached back to swat at your arm. “Tell them, babe.”

“She can.” You nodded in agreement.

The blond set a hand on his friend’s shoulder and tugged him back, “Let’s just go, man.”

The brunet reluctantly let himself get dragged away, but he continued to stare at you and Nima the entire time. Nima spun in her seat and scoffed, “Where was I before I was interrupted by douchebag one and douchebag two?”

“I’m not gonna lie,” You shrugged, “I have no idea.”

“I’ll pick a place then.” Nima said and jumped into the middle of her story. “So, there I was covered head to toe in honey.”

Same as before, you really couldn’t keep track of her tale but it amused you all the same. The two of you chatted for another minute or two before a new face came across the two of you again. Nima had bounced in her seat, excited, and it knocked her strawberry shaped purse to the floor. Your phone clattered out. Before you could climb off the bar stool to grab it, a man passing knelt down and scooped it up. In one tanned hand he grabbed the purse and in the other your phone. The phone’s screen lit up and you swallowed at the sight of the multiple missed messages all from the same person. 

“Oh.” The man cleared his throat and straightened his stance. He was handsome with a kind face. Dark hair, a bit on the longer side, was messily pushed back and it matched the scruff on his upper lip and chin. The man wore a pink button up shirt, all the buttons undone, over a white t-shirt. “I suppose this is yours, miss?”

You begun to reach out, “Thanks⏤”

“Hold it!” Nima pointed at the man making his dark, brown eyes widen. “State your intentions, sir!”

“To…return your purse?” He lifted up the strawberry bag.

Nima narrowed her eyes at him and snatched it away, “Likely story.”

“Thank you.” You reached out and he handed the phone over to you. A glance down revealed four missed calls, two unheard voicemails, and five texts. You winced at the sight and set your phone face down on the bar. You were surprised to see the man still standing by your stools. “You…” You narrowed your eyes at him. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

He chuckled and shook his head, “Afraid not, ma’am.”

It was sitting on the tip of your tongue, but your foggy brain just couldn’t quite grasp it. Nima snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “I got it. He’s that guy.” You lifted an eyebrow at her words and she nodded frantically. “Yeah, he’s that actor! You play in that one show with, like, the zombies or whatever, right?”

“Not at all.” He laughed with a shake of his head. “I ain’t no actor.”

“Well then, I’m out of guesses.” Nima grumbled. She tilted her head, looking him up and down once more, “You seem nice enough. Got a pretty face. You rich? You wanna be a sugar daddy? She’s in the market.”

You rolled your eyes, “Nima.”

“You’re in the market for a sugar daddy?” The man asked in shock. You could hardly blame the man for his confusion and disbelief. This was hardly a normal bar conversation. “Really?”

“No. She’s just drunk.”

“Irrelevant.” Nima argued.

You chuckled then introduced yourself and Nima. The man paused for a beat before nodding and offering you his hand. “Nice to meet you both. My name is Tommy.” It took a second to click, but once the name finally wormed its way through your mind your eyes widened. Tommy chuckled and answered your unspoken question, “Yeah. I am.”

Nima glanced between you two with a frown, “Hold on, I’m not following. You are what? You’ll be her new sugar daddy?”

“No way in hell.” Tommy grinned. “If I even thought 'bout it, my brother’d skin me alive.”

The look on Nima’s face stayed confused until you swallowed the lump in your throat and finally spoke, “It’s… Nima, this is Joel’s brother.”

Her face remained frozen before morphing into one of shock. She gasped, almost comically, and pointed at him. “Oh, fuck.” Her eyebrows furrowed into a glare. “You son of a bitch, your brother is a son of a bitch!”

Tommy didn’t pay her outburst any mind, but his eyes darted back to you. “I asked my brother to come out drinkin' with me tonight, but he said ‘no’ cause he had a date with you.” Tommy stuck his hands into his pockets. “Funny I’m findin' you here without him.”

“That’s because your brother is too busy with his wife to be with my girl!”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed in surprise and he glanced back to you, “He already told you about her?”

It was quite possibly the worst string of words you could have heard all day. Only in competition with Nima’s ‘He’s married, babe’. You felt nauseous and dizzy⏤ the breath stolen from you again. Nima was arguing with Tommy, you could hear her voice, but you couldn’t concretely understand a single word that was said. When you finally managed to get a handle on reality, you looked back to see things had fallen apart and more time than you realized had passed in your mental breakdown. 

The blond and brunet from earlier, in the suits, had come back and were somehow arguing with Tommy and Nima now. You suddenly began to regret the last two drinks you had. Maybe if you had gone with a couple glasses of water instead you’d be able to puzzle out exactly what was going on right now.

“Get the hell outta here. They ain’t interested.” Tommy snapped.

“Just curious as to why we weren’t good enough for these bitches and you were.” The brunet slurred his words. Tommy stood a step in front of Nima who had slid off her bar stool to stand in front of you with her hands on her hips. “What’s so special about you, bub?”

“Ugh. How about the two of you run off to the bathroom and jack each other off, huh? Then leave us the fuck alone.” Nima sneered.

“Shut your damn mouth!” 

The blond tried to push past Tommy toward Nima, but Tommy shoved him back immediately. He grabbed the guy by the collar. “You gonna charge at a woman like that? Fuckin' coward.” Tommy’s voice came out in a gravelly growl that reminded you so much of Joel that it was staggering. “You got a problem, you take it up with me.”

The next moment happened fast. The blond tried to swing out at Tommy so Tommy blocked it with his elbow before tackling the man to the ground. The brunet grabbed Nima and wrapped his arms around her. She howled in anger and squirmed in his arms trying to find purchase to hit him. The brunet spun so his back was to you and you slid off the stool. Without pause, without thought, you picked up your empty glass and smashed it to the back of the man’s head. He released Nima, crumpling to the ground with a groan, and any shred of a fight stopped⏤as did the entire bar.

Tommy was kneeling on the ground pinning the blond while Nima stood off to the side.

“Oh my God.” Nima squealed, amused.

“Oh my God.” Tommy blurted, impressed.

“Oh my God.” You gasped, shocked at your own action.

You were panting, damn near hyperventilating, as the brunet began to rise on shaky limbs. Other patrons nearby converged on the scene to help out and before you knew it you were being ushered off to the side where a few couches and seats sat in a lounge area. 

“You’re such a badass.” Nima gushed from beside you. "How’s your hand??”

“Hurts.” You mumbled and stared down at the white cloth wrapped around your hand. Bright red was beginning to seep through. The consequences of smashing glass against the back of someone’s skull. Police had shown up and you knew Tommy was across the room talking to them. But still, your eyes stayed glued on your hand. The cuts weren’t terrible but they stung something awful.

“Babe?” You finally looked up and met Nima’s concerned eyes. She nodded, “You alright?”

You shot her a small smile, “Yeah. Are you okay? I can’t believe he grabbed you.”

“I’m fine.” Nima peeked at your hand then stood. “I’m gonna see if this bar has a real first aid kit we can use. Be right back.”

She jumped up and jogged over to the bar. You sunk in your seat with a sigh and leaned your head against the back of the couch. There had been something very sobering about smashing the glass against that guy’s head. The adrenaline and pain cleared any lingering fog from your previous drinks right out of your head. It left room for you to think about Joel. Meeting his brother certainly didn’t help. Tommy clapped one of the officer’s on the shoulder with a smile and they went separate ways. You lifted your head when you heard his footsteps draw near.

“Well, I spoke to the police.” Tommy stuck his hands into his pockets. “You’re not gonna get in trouble for the, you know, the glass. Won’t have to go downtown with ‘em.” You breathed a sigh of relief. Tommy held your gaze for a few more seconds before scrunching his nose and bobbing his head toward you. “And Joel is, uh, on his way.”

You covered your face with your good hand and groaned, “Can I please just be arrested instead?”

“Sorry, no can do.” Tommy sat down beside you. “You know, I didn’t say it earlier, but it’s nice to finally meet you. Joel never shuts up about you.”

“Please. Don’t.” You blurted. “I can’t… I can’t talk about him right now.”

Tommy nodded, “Right. I, uh, when I called him we didn’t talk much.” He laced his fingers together and rested his arms on his knees. “I mentioned you were hurt and things kind of spiraled from there. That’s probably for the best though. I don’t wanna get in between a lover’s quarrel⏤”

“I’m not his lover.” You snapped, and you hated the way your voice cracked. You shook your head, “Not if he’s married. Not…” The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and you were exhausted to your very bones. “This is so fucked up. I never should've agreed to…

Tommy didn’t immediately reply. He sighed, “I don’t know you, and I don’t got the exact details of what’s going on right now, but… I’m glad you agreed.” He turned and met your gaze with a tight smile. “Joel’s been… He’s been better. Joel was in a rut for a long time. So long that I kind of forgot he was in one. For a while, that was just Joel.” Tommy’s smile grew as he chuckled. “But ever since the two of you met, it’s like this weight has been lifted from his shoulders. We’ve all noticed it, and we’re all thankful.”

  “He’s married.” You whispered. “And he didn’t tell me.”

Tommy rubbed the back of his neck, “I know, but it’s⏤ it’s not that simple.” He nervously chewed on his lower lip. “Can you just give him a chance to explain?” You flexed your hand and sucked in a sharp breath as pain lanced up your arm. “Consider it a favor for me.”

“A favor for you?” You snorted.

“Yeah. I kept you out of prison, remember?” Tommy joked.

You cracked a smile and Tommy’s smile widened in victory. Nima skipped back over and dropped into the seat on your other side. She pulled your hand into her lap and carefully unpeeled the cloth away. As Nima rewrapped your hand while Tommy criticized her technique and the two bickered over you. You couldn’t help but flex your hand when she finished.

“Come on, pinkie.” Tommy stood. “I’ll take you home.”

“Uh, I am not leaving my girl here alone.”

“Joel will be here soon.”

“Then I’m definitely not leaving her alone!”

You reached out to squeeze her wrist and gave her a reassuring nod, “I’ll be okay. Gotta talk to him eventually, right?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t have to be right now.” Nima argued. You pulled her into a hug to reassure her once again. Maybe this was a bad idea, but you had just smashed a glass against a guy’s head so the degree of your bad ideas couldn't possibly get worse. Nima sighed and stood up too. “Okay. You’re sure you’re fine?”

Tommy clapped his hands. “Joel’s a few minutes away. But we can stay until he gets here if you want.”

“No.” You shook your head. The thought of being alone for a minute was kind of nice. “You guys go.” Your eyes locked onto Nima. “If you’re okay with him driving you.” You glanced at Tommy. “No offense.”

He held his hands up in surrender and shrugged nonchalantly. Nima nodded, “We survived a bar brawl together. We’re bonded.” She grinned and pulled her strawberry purse around her shoulders. “Plus, worse comes to worse, I can stab him.”

“You can what now?” Tommy questioned.

“You’ve already offered me a ride. It’s too late to back out now.”

“Fine, pinkie.” Tommy waved her to follow. 

You watched them go and sunk in your seat. The sounds of the bar was decent background noise, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the noise in your head. You picked at the edges of the gauze wrapped around your hand. Your eyes felt heavy and if you weren’t careful you were going to pass out on this bar couch surrounded by strangers. It was the sound of a crash that startled you back into the moment, and when you looked up from your hand you realized the door had been thrown open hard enough to hit the wall. Joel stood in the doorway panicked and wild eyed. He wore a suit without the tie and his shirt was unbuttoned at the top.

You stayed silent, sinking further into your seat, and watched as Joel’s wide eyes scanned the room. His gaze finally landed on you, doing a double take, and when he realized where you were you saw his shoulders slump in relief. Joel jogged across the room until he was able to kneel down in front of you. Joel’s warm hands found your face, cupping it softly, as he sighed, “Sugar, what the hell is goin' on? Are you okay?” Joel’s eyes studied your face then glanced down at your hand. “Jesus, your hand. Tommy called me. Sugar, I⏤”

“I’m okay.” You whispered, throat growing tight, “I just wanna go home, Joel.”

Joel tensed and he nodded, “Yeah. Alright. Let’s get you home.”

The ride in the truck beside Joel may have been the most awkward and tense ride of your entire life. It was silent. The only sound coming from the road outside. Joel’s hands were white knuckled around the steering wheel. You assumed his tension had something to do with you ghosting him this evening. His truck pulled up outside your apartment complex and your alcohol soaked brain realized not only did you not have your keys but you also no longer had your phone. Both were sitting in Nima’s purse right now.

You opened the door fully prepared to sleep outside your apartment on the welcome mat like a lost dog, but Joel grasped you by the arm cautiously to hold you in place. “You got your key?” You twisted your lips knowing he wasn’t going to fall for a lie. “Where is your key?”

“With Nima.” You mumbled. “She has my phone too.”

Joel sighed and let go of you to instead grab the truck door and shut it. He buckled you back into the seat and began to drive once more. You wanted to ask where he was taking you, but none of the words would come out. You drowned in your indecision while picking at the bandage on your hand. Joel suddenly reached over and lightly pushed your hand away from the injury.

“Stop pickin' at it, sugar.”

“Where are we going?” You blurted.

Joel shifted in his seat, “My place.”

“I don’t wanna go to your place.” You mumbled.

“Don’t care.” Joel replied gruffly and you lifted your head to glare at his side profile. 

The tone of his voice stirred something inside you, and you felt the dormant anger start to reawaken. It had gotten buried under everything that happened, but now it was back full fledged. You sat up, “Take me back. I want to go home.”

“You don’t have your key.”

“I don’t care.” You snapped. “Take me home, Joel!”

“You’re comin' to my place where I know you can safely sleep it off, 'nd then tomorrow we’ll figure out how to get ya back into your apartment. Understood?”

You scoffed, “Don’t talk down to me. I’m not a child, Joel.”

“Oh, you’re not?” Joel scoffed. His tone was angry and frustrated. “Cause you’re sure as hell actin' like one.” He shot a glare in your direction before focusing back on the road. “Are you outta your goddamn mind?! Do you know how worried I was?” You crossed your arms and stared out the passenger window. “I don’ hear from you all day long. You disappear on me with no explanation 'nd then I get a call from my baby brother that you’ve been in a bar fight? And that you’re hurt?!” You stayed silent and Joel scoffed. “And now I get the silent treatment? Very mature.”

“You don’t want to argue with me on what’s mature, Joel.” You said, head whipping back to glare at him.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean??”

“You’re a hypocrite!”

“Excuse me?”

You scoffed, “It’s not very mature for a married man to pay a sugar baby for attention.” Joel hit the brakes and the seat belt caught you as the truck screeched to a stop. You glanced out the window to see his truck had reached a neighborhood and the streets were mostly void of other vehicles. When you turned back to Joel, you found him staring at you in a mix of shock and horror. You shook your head, “What was I, Joel? Some kind of midlife crisis?”

Pain could be seen through the horror, and he reached out to grab your wrist again. “No. No, that’s not…” Joel’s voice was hoarse and broken. He whispered your name. “Please. That’s not what this is.”

You tugged your arm away from his grip. “I don’t wanna talk about this right now, Joel. Either start driving again or I’m gonna get out.”

Joel kept his hands to himself as he slowly went back to driving. As if the awkward silence hadn’t been painful before it was downright agonizing now. You were pressing your thumb into the wounds of your palm just to try and keep from crying. Joel pulled into the driveway a few minutes later, and you couldn’t even get your brain to collect a single feature of the house in front of you. Joel jumped out of the truck and you stayed frozen. The passenger door opened but Joel didn’t move to pull you out. He held the top of the door frame and a foot rested on the running board so he could lean in just marginally.

“Sugar…”

“Don’t, Joel.” You said firmly. “Don’t.”

“Please just let me⏤”

“Are you married?”

Joel’s face crumpled in agony and he hung his head, “It’s… It’s not that simple. Just let me⏤”

“It’s a yes or no question.” You shrugged and tried to ignore the tears welling up in your eyes.

Joel looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. His eyes were squeezed shut, but he still refused to answer. You whispered his name. Finally, he lifted his gaze back to you and opened his mouth. His jaw hung open silently for a second before he could speak. “...Yes.”

You felt the tears lingering at the waterline drip down your cheeks and hastily began to wipe them away with your hands. Joel gasped and began to reach out but when you flinched he held back. He shook his head, “You’re bleedin'.”

The bandage around your hand was soaked with blood, probably from digging your thumb into the wounds, and when you felt your cheek with your fingertips they came back tinted red. You must have smeared it across your face. 

“Sugar, let me… let me take you inside.” Joel murmured. “Please. I know you’re… upset, 'nd you have every reason to hate me right now, but… just let me get you inside.” His hand reached out for you once more, but he stopped himself. “You can leave in the mornin', but for tonight just⏤ just let me take care of you. Please.”

You gave a small nod. It felt weak of you, but you reassured yourself that you had little to no other option. Your hand hurt, your head ached, you were exhausted to your very being, and deep down you were torn between wanting to yell and scream or curl into a ball and cry. Joel took a few steps back to allow you to climb down yourself, but when you wavered his arms shot out to try and steady you. Joel herded you toward the front door without actually touching you. 

Your eyebrows furrowed when you studied his front porch. The entire front of his house didn’t look like the typical rich LA style you were accustomed to seeing. In fact, his porch and front door reminded you of a quaint farmhouse. Joel unlocked his front door and held it open for you to walk in. Right inside the house, the foyer had an open style with a set of stairs pressed against the wall just up ahead. It opened straight into a large living room that evolved into a dining room with a matching open kitchen to the side. The entire back wall by the kitchen and dining area was made of glass but the back porch lights were off so you couldn’t see the view. 

Joel tossed his keys into a bowl sitting on an accent table against the wall right by the door. You glanced over to a little bench built into the wall on the other side beneath a set of bay windows. The rest of his furniture from what you could see was modern and plain. You were drunk off alcohol and misery, but your brain was still able to take the time to note that Joel’s furniture didn’t match what you imagined him to have.

“C’mon.” Joel motioned you up the stairs. He followed after you and when you reached the top of the stairs he pointed to the left. You stepped into the master bedroom and Joel slid in past you moving straight toward the master bath. While he rooted around for something, you glanced around his room. There was a king sized bed sitting in the middle of the room covered in dark green sheets. A window sat on either side of the bed. The wall to the right was where the bathroom door and the closet door sat, but on the left was a single loveseat pushed against the wall. All the furniture was dark brown including the large dresser against the wall by the door and the smaller bedside drawers on either side of the bed under the windows. You drifted toward one of the bedside drawers where a photo was propped up. It was of Joel and two young girls. Joel had shown you enough pictures of Sarah and Ellie for you to recognize them, but in this photo all three of them were significantly younger. 

The sound of a throat clearing made you look up to see Joel standing there with a first aid kit in hand. “Sit down for me?” You sat on the side of the bed and Joel sat beside you. He opened the kit then carefully unwrapped your hand. When he saw the three lines haphazardly cut into your palm he let out a soft hiss. “You hurtin' much?”

“It stings some.” You mumbled. He hummed in response and used an alcohol swab to clean up the cuts. Joel did so with soft touches and his eyes flickered to your features every second or so to check in on your status. You locked your jaw to bite back any sounds of pain that tried to slip out. 

“They look bad, but I don’ think they’ll need stitches.” Joel thought out loud. 

“Good.” You said. Joel grabbed some fresh gauze and began to wrap it around your hand. You studied his features as he focused so intently on the task at hand. His warm gaze was burned into your skin as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You had the urge to trace your fingers through the scruff along his jawline. When he finished, he lifted his gaze and his eyes locked with yours. The two of you stared at one another in tense silence. Pain and longing filled his brown eyes, and you wondered if it could somehow just be a reflection of your own. It made no sense for you to both be so miserable right now. “Where is she?”

Joel tensed, “What?”

“Where is your wife?” You asked more firmly. 

“Are you sure you wanna get into this tonight?”

“I just want answers, Joel.” You sighed. “I need something. My mind has been a mess since we left Vegas.” Joel’s face crumpled as he closed his eyes with a sigh. “Yo-yo told me I wasn’t your first sugar baby and then she said you were married to your first sugar baby.” The words were falling out like pouring water now. “And then Nima has a cousin who has a cousin who has a friend or something that was able to find your marriage certificate⏤”

Joel murmured your name in reverence and opened his eyes. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you from the start. That way there’d be no miscommunication or confusion. I meant to. But… I kept puttin' it off 'nd it got to the point where too much time had passed…” Joel hesitantly reached out for you and when you didn’t shy away he settled his hand on your arm. “I did have a sugar baby before you. It’s a… long story, but I am not married to her.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed, “You didn’t marry her?”

“No. Absolutely not. She was… Like I said, it’s a long story.” Joel squeezed your arm. “One that I promise to tell you. In the mornin', when you’re not half drunk 'nd half hungover all at once.”

“Then who the hell are you married to, Joel?”

“I… I am technically still married to Celina.” Joel finally spat the words out. You shook your head in confusion. The name was foreign to you, but Joel heaved another sigh and added, “Sarah’s mom.”

taglist (closed):

@weddingfairy @bfences @jasminedragon @biwitchy @huffle-punk @shelbyteller @anoverwhelmingdin @aheadfullofsteverogers @stagerightlauren @basicoccult @boofy1998 @farintonorth @thepascalofus @amatis-gray @casa-boiardi @northernbluess @jettia @sapphicsoie @spidey-3 @hrtsforpascal @gingersince97 @sentients17 @bigboiseason123 @lunxramour @ktheunready @heyheyheygaypay @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @adoringanakin @come-hell-or-eldren-fire @cherriebat @whitewolfstar01 @alyssa121611 @asreadbyaj @painfullyandprettypoetic @cantobightcafe @str84pedro

[previous][next]

✨J.M. Masterlist✨

[thereaperisabitch]

My Joel Miller fics recs from 2023

I’ve planned to do this since before Christmas, but life caught me up, so that's why I'm here rushing to finishing this before the reveillon party. 2023 was a very tough year for me, in different ways, and this stories were my refuge and my balm during good times and bad times, so this was the way I found to honor all these incredible authors who made my life better this year.

To the authors: you guys are the most amazing and sweet people ever, I know that I'm not active as other readers and I don't reblog your works enough - and I'm sorry for that, I wish I could shower you with the praises you guys deserve.

Hope this will make up for all the comments and reblogs that I haven't give.

And to the readers who find this recs: most of these stories are series and most of them has age gap and are Joel Miller x fem/afab!reader. I won't put warnings from each fic because it would be a too long post, so click the link and read the author's warnings in each before you start to read - I'm afraid to get into fandoms because of people who give shit to authors, so please, don't be this kind of person.

Someday I'll make a part 2 of other stories that caught me up this year.

That all being said, thank you @morning-star-joy @hier--soir @frannyzooey @joelsgreys @fuckyeahdindjarin @the-ginger-hedge-witch @eupheme @bageldaddy @covetyou @theidiotwhowritesthings @atinylittlepain @imtryingmybeskar @ezrasbirdie

A stranger's heart without a home (complete)

Summary: A one night stand that later becomes a secret affair – or masterpiece of literature – all the poets and great writers ran so Doni could walk.

This is my favorite fic of all times, forever! I read and re-read it so much that I can’t even count how many times I’ve had read it, it’s my 100% comfort fic. Enemies to lovers is my favorite trope, and the way @morning-star-joy developed here it’s perfection in the most pure way.

It’s Joel on his Jackson era and it’s a perfect character development from both sides, how to people who prefer to deal things on their own learn to rely on someone else.

I also highly recommend But you know the killer doesn't understand, which it’s on-going Joel x fem! Reader also post-Outbreak in Jackson, but it’s different and addicting as ASHWAH.

A Lover’s Pinch (on-going)

Summary: a one night stand (do I have a pattern?) at the bar turns to be so much more when you discover that your fling it’s your professor at university.

The professor x student trope might be cliché for some, and by the very brief summary that I wrote above may sound like Pretty Little Liars, but @hier--soir works with those elements and creates something beyond amazing, it is like contemplate a work of art at a museum, but much better.

I’m very much obsessed with this story, that’s why I reread it with more and more frequency.

Can’t even mention the references in this story – it’s truly enriching, it makes all better, truly.

Plus: the playlist it’s amazing!!!!

Short Days, Long Nights (on-going)

Summary: Remnants of a band travelers, you and Joel find a cabin in the woods - what would be the problem with staying?

I’m crazy about this one, it’s my true love and it had 3 or 4 chapters when I started and now we’re heading to chapter 17, blessed be @frannyzooey for sustaining us with this preciosity for so long.

I'm a sucker for when there's one character (Joel) reluctant for his feelings, and if the story was only about this, I would be perfectly glad too with, too. BUT Kelli it's a genius, an amazing writer, giving me all that I didn't even knew I wanted.

It's fluff, with smut from the highest quality - with some tense moments, wich turns everything more addicting.

A Safe Haven (on-going)

Summary: Joel's quickly drawn to the vet of Jackson - even knowing she's married. Will this affair thrive? Or there's more underneath of the vet's story? (Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry for this lame summary, but I refuse to copy from your masterlist and I’m also rushing to finishing this rec today).

I was bought on the infidelity trope and the drama that comes with it. It would still be a nice story, but @joelsgreys it’s so much fucking talented that she wrote the most beautiful thing ever!

It has tooth roting fluff, drenching panties smut and heartstopping angst! All perfectly written and balanced.

I also love how Ellie it's also a crucial character for the couple's history and I really adore how she's attached to Peach.

Special mention to Fall Into Temptation and Strawberry, that lived rent free in my mind since I've read those.

Seams (on-going)

Summary: Joel pays visit to Jackson's seamstress after a trouble with his too-tight jeans – and it's only heaven from that on, won't say more.

Now I call @fuckyeahdindjarin ✨Queen of the Build Up✨ and that's because the way Cee builds up the sexual tension between characters it's undescribable.

Cee is such an excellent writer, not only in Seams but on other stories too she's gives a rich description of details that makes the reading flow better, it's like knowing you looking at gem stone.

Breakout (complete)

Summary: Boxer!Joel AU when he has to train a fuckboy who happens to date a sweet little thing.

Well I'm a fan from @the-ginger-hedge-witch for a while, she wrote one of the best Javier Peña fics ever (which turned into a book and that's fucking A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!!!) and other amazing stories, but this one got me hooked so bad.

Clearly I have a pattern because I LOVE when there is an obstacle for the characters to stay together, in this case, a relationship (I already spoiled that her boyfriend sucks, but I don't think it's spoils the story development) and Ren just atests she's a wonderful writer - now book writer, blessed be her 🙏🏻

And the idea of Joel using his fists it's already apealing, am I right?

I also recommend Friendly Fire, that I love just for knowing that in this, Ren envisioned an Aries character for reader - but also the premise of the story is great, too.

In The Woods Somewhere (complete)

Summary: living alone in a cabin at the apocalypse gets less dull when a teenager appears with a handsome injured man.

I've read this since a while, but it marked me. @eupheme created such tenderness between the characters - they know he and Ellie can't stay, which makes the affair even more apealling.

I’ll know It when I see it (on-going)

Summary: Joel as a porn star in its golden era who meets Lucky, a rising star in porn - chemestry goes beyond the cameras.

@bageldaddy deserves all the shout out forever because this here it's golden. They're both are porn stars and I could be hot just for this, but of course there's feelings involved - and the way they struggle to fight against these it's what makes this story even more perfect. Shout out to the one shot Sundown, as well, it’s completely wonderful.

Something wretched about this (complete)

Summary: Joel Miller it's a self appointed pharmacist in the QZ, and fucks you when you don't have how to pay for your father's medicine

Whoring yourself for meds sounds bad? In this story it's hot af! It's filthy, each chapter explores different sexual practices and it's THE. BEST. THING. IN. THE. WORLD!!!

@covetyou it's the most blessed being for writing a perfection like this, seriously. I loved every single chapter of this, loved Joel being an asshole and a slut. I can't tell enough how much joy this story has brought me. And lo it's better than Santa, because she provides christmas gifts for the nice and naughty, with Freeze-thaw (smut with fluff) and Baubles (smut with FILTH) - I can't die before I try the balldo, I didn't even knew this, didn't think that this could be possible - but happily it is, and this one shot it's perfect in every aspect.

Take Care of You (on-going)

Summary: Joel it's a sugar daddy in this AU and appears in your life to make all better 👀 He doesn't charges for the sexual part of the arrangement, but he's irresistible - so what will you do?

The ideia of a sugar daddy it's extremely appealing to me because that's all I wanted, you know? Some rich hot guy telling me I don't need to work and paying everything to me - that's living! Okay jk, but I started reading this when things caught up badly at work, so it was a sweet refuge.

@theidiotwhowritesthings it's the perfect writer! It's the perfect slow burn that makes you thirst for more and more!

Apothecary (complete)

Summary: Summary: Joel falls in love with the "witch" from Jackson and it has its perks and struggles.

I LOVE Practical Magic, it's one of my favorites witch movies so to read something inspired on that it's great -but @atinylittlepain it's such a wonderful, talented, amazing writer - so we were all blessed with this masterpiece.

It has fluff, angst, smut - stupid people being scared about what they don't understand and etc. It's very sweet, Joel also doesn't understands about her, but can't help being drawn. And Ellie it's a natural, their relationship here, how they grow to be a family ... it's utterly sweet. Special mention to Only Lovers Left Alive (another movie that I LOVE),  The Heyloft and the masterpiece Down to The Ankles (it's perfection and it's inspired in Bones and All, other film that I truly love).

Come home (on-going)

Summary: when you've lost everything and everyone, you reach to Jackson - and meets a ruggedly handsome who you can't help being drawn to.

I've read this for a while, as well, but I still think about this story often. It's a slow burn - which I love (in case you haven't noticed from the stories listed above) - and it's so sweet, the blossom of a friendship that turns to more, their relationship with Ellie ... It's been a while since it was uptaded and I hope @imtryingmybeskar it's okay, because this story it's lovely and I really wish to see and ending for them.

Catalyst

I'm gonna just summarize that it's a threesome with Joel and Frankie Morales from Triple Frontier, that's it - if that ain't reason enough for you to read, idk man.

I didn't even knew that I wanted it, that I needed it - until I read it. I find threesomes hot af, but I don't tend to enjoy when it's with characters that I love too deeply - don't ask me why - but in THIS ONE, GOD FUCKING DAAAAAMN!

It has filth, of course, but there's also fluff - which I find inevitable when it's about Frankie. In the chapter Here, especially, @ezrasbirdie builds perfectly of the struggles that I imagine for a threeway relationship, reading it was sad, hot and lovely.

Hope all the links work, 'cause I don't have time to check now 🙃

Sorry if my comments felt weird, if I forgot to mention something, as I've said above, I intend to make a part 2 of recs someday soon (hopefully).

I wish everyone a happy new year 🎆🥂🎇

[iammorethananame]

Me: *financially independent and uncomfortable accepting monetary help*

Also me: *fiercely anti-captalist and anti-rich people*

Still me: *staring wistfully at @theidiotwhowritesthings's sugar daddy!Joel Miller AU* I want one

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

THE WAY I S C R E A M E D.

the pictures you chose and the color scheme AND YOU GOT A PIC OF THE NECKLACE😫 it's so perfect pls excuse me while i go and stare at this for the next twelve hours. no. TWENTY FOUR. i am just so obsessed with this i'm gonna cry

🖼

Hon, I would be honored and obsessed if you could make me a mood board for my sugar daddy!Joel fic 'Take Care of You'. 😌

However, if you're not feeling the sugar daddy Joel vibe then I will take a mood board on any of my series. Your choice. I just love the stuff you make so much.

hi JJ!! Ah oh my gosh the way I INHALED this fic this weekend! 💖 Your writing is so fucking good and I love the story you are weaving with them! Thank you so much for sending this in!

I hope this captures some of their vibes! In love with the necklace he gave her, and all their soft coffee and bakery and date moments 💕 he is so charming!! Can’t wait to read about the Vegas trip!

———

[saradika’s sleepover celebration - closed]

[romana-after-dark]

Don't You Worry Your Pretty Little Mind

DBF!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Sugar Daddy Joel, No outbreak

Masterlist : Taglist

Summary: You need money for next semester. Luckily, your dad's rich friend's eyes follow you were ever you go, and he thinks you're such a good girl.

Warning: DUB CON VIA BRAINWASHING AND MANIPULATION: The sex is v consentual, the breeding is worn down. Breeding kink, age gap (30 ish years), Joel's obsession with gender rolls. The gender rolls and sentiments expressed by Joel and eventually reader are not mine. You do not need to be a mother or wife or care for children to be a good girl. Joel is controlling and manipulates reader away from friends and keeps her financially in the blind but he does not hurt her. If you like this and are okay with DARK DARK DARK you might like The Wrong Way on my masterlist bc Joel housewifes little one up. Cream pie, fingering, oral, but its not super smutty. Most is implied.

Immersability: Joel can pick up reader, reader can have kids theoretically.

This born of me being under extream stress rn and wanting all my thoughts out of my head.

*******************************

Joel was broad, sweaty, and all consuming over you.

His thrusts were growing erratic, sloppy, but that was okay; he’d made you cum 4 times already, so it was his turn. You had no idea how someone his age had so much stamina while you got winded walking up a flight of stairs, but were too tired to think much further on it. As it was, you were falling asleep as his rhythmic thrust rocked you. It wasn’t that you were bored, it was that you were completely and totally wrecked. Spent. Fucked to sleep.

“Please baby, please? I need to cum inside you, need to make you mine.”

“I am yours.” You insisted quietly, fucked out head unable to stay up and nodding to the side. You needed sleep. 

Joel continues to grunt, to plead with you. “Not yet, not until you’re stuffed full of my cum, not until your belly swells with my baby…”

*

It was supposed to be one time. You were so, so close to having enough money for another semester of college… but not enough. You’d been late on payments so often your school required it upfront for you now, and you were just short.

“Hey hun, you alright?” Joel let himself into your family’s home. He had a key right now, with your parents vacationing in Europe the last couple months and gave Joel a key to watch over things. To watch over you. 

You check yourself in the mirror once again, everything needed to be perfect, so you shout down the hall.  “One moment, sorry!”

“Take your time, darl’n.”

Re-apply lipstick. Wait, no, too much lipstick. It’s too try hard, take some off. Fuck you smugged it! Touch out your cover up, then the lipstick again. FUCK ITS TOO MUCH! Oh fucking well, your were whoring yourself out, might as well look like one. Straighten your dress. Tits out.

You tried to act casual. It wasn’t unusual to see you dressed up for dinner, your parents were big on dressing for dinner especially when guests were over, and Joel had been a friend guest. Him and your dad were close friends ever since your dad represented Joel in his divorce, getting him full custody of Sarah. It ended up being pointless anyway, as his ex-wife stopped taking Sarah for her weekends a year into the divorce. Sarah had been just a pawn for her, but Joel loved her, taking care of everything she needed for college. His business had taken off, moving from not only construction to full on housing and property developments, so he had paid for her college and was paying for her dream wedding as well. You were invited, although you’d only met her a few times. Your parents, despite their success, had no interest in helping you with college when you rejected pre-law in favor of early childhood development, so you’d been paying your own way.

Joel had defended your life choices when your dad attempted to publicly embarrass you, your dad stating that you ‘don’t fucking listen’ and were an ungratful, disobidiant brat at a dinner party, but Joel wouldn’t hear it. He said you were ‘a good girl’, and that it was a beautiful thing to see a woman who cares about children, still in this world. He praised your efforts and your determination.

“Thank you for coming, Joel.”

Joel stands as you enter the room. “Of course, a pretty girl invites me to dinner, how could I say no? Everything's alright here, no one’s giving you any trouble are they?”

“Yes, everything is good, thank you.”

“Anything need fixing while I’m here?”

“No, thank you. Come on, diners ready.”

You lead him to the kitchen, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail down as you pass. This is what you were counting on.

Joel was quick to praise your food, not holding back on compliments. “This is delicious, sweetheart, you really got a skill here.” and “You’ll make some man very happy one day.”

That last one made you swell with pride. You were happy he thought of you as wife material. What you were about to do wasn’t very “good girl” of you, however. Joel always called you a good girl, while your dad thought for sure you were taking an ‘easier’ major to allow more time for partying. You wanted Joel to think you were good. 

After dinner, you and Joel sat down with coffee and a cherry crumble, smoothing your dress over the couch. Conversation was light, easy. It was always easy with Joel, despite him making you nervous. He was just so fucking handsome, so fucking strong, and the way he talked about sarah with a twinkle in his eye… you know he was a good dad, a loving dad. The few times you met Sarah, Joel always took care of her even in adulthood. He gave her gas money she never asked for, told her she looked beautiful, and his face always beamed with pride when he looked at his daughter. He always hugged her goodbye, even if he’d see her tomorrow. Your father hadn’t hugged you in years.

“Is there a reason you brought me here tonight?” Joel asked, sipping his black coffee with a bit of splenda in it, a splash of the dark liquid remaining on his mustache until he dabbed it away.

You squirm a bit in your seat. “Well, yes, actually. Not that I don’t enjoy your company!” Was your fast addendum.

Joel chuckled, smiling into his mug. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I ain’t one of those old men that have delusions of pretty young girls wanting to spend time with them.”

“That’s not it!” You stand quickly, fluttering over to where he sat on the couch and plopping down. “I swear, Mr. Miller, if you say no, I’d want you to stay and finish dessert, I enjoy spending time with you, just as we are.”

*

Joel was struggling more and more to stave off his orgasm, but he needed this. He couldn’t just cum in you, although you wouldn’t resist and he doubted you’d throw a fit. He had you too wrapped around his finger by now. Young, sweet, naive thing that you were… but Joel needed you to want this too, Joel needed a life with you at his side, his pretty wife, mother of his children… starting tonight.

“Joel, nooooo…” You mutter, tired and worn out. He made sure to get you like this; compliant. “I have to finish school, Joel…” 

*

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. Just tell me what you need, I’m sure we can work something out.”

You wring your hands in your lap, suddenly aware of your proximity to him. He smelled like leather and sandalwood. 

“Well, as you know I’m in school…”

He nodded, setting down his drink. “That’s right, Early Childhood isn’t it?”

That made you light up, turning to actually look at him and finding his kind eyes on you. “Yes! I can’t believe you remembered!”

“I remember your dad ranting about it. I told him he shouldn’t have been surprised, good girl like you, wanting to take care of children.”

You nod quickly. “Yes exactly! My school offers a minor in special needs which I added too.” You were happy with his approval of your choice and added that fact on to make you seem more noble. This was a good cause he was investing in. You were a good girl who wanted to help children.

“My oh my, darl’n…” Joel mused. “You really are a sweetheart, aren’t you? Now, what can I do to aid such a valiant effort.”

“Well, school starts this month and I’m close, I’m so, so close to having enough but even with the overtime, it’d looking like I’ll be short about $500 for tuition, and then there’s books and supplies and-”

“Now wait a minute, little lady.” Joel held up a hand, and for a moment you’re disheartened and think he’s about to reject your ask before it’s even out, but his furrowed brow is for another reason. “Your daddy ain’t help’n you pay for school?”

“No sir… not since I refused to go to pre-law.”

“Well that ain’t right… I know how much he makes, he can pay for a few months in Europe but not your school? Fathers are supposed to take care of their daughters.” He looked genuinely disappointed.

Shrugging, you chuckle nervously. “Well, I suppose he doesn’t think it’s very useful, so he doesn’t want to pay for it.”

* 

“You graduate before the second semester.”

“But my dad”

“I’ll handle your dad”

“What about Sarah?”

“I’ll handle Sarah.”

“But the money-”

Joel stopped, mid trust, his cock buried inside you and trying his best to stave off his orgasm. 

“Sweetheart… Don’t you know I want to marry you?”

*

Joel had known Mike wasn’t the most attentive father, but he never thought it was this bad. He always thought you were a good girl, kind hearted and calm, empathetic and caring. It had only been this last year that he’d begun to see you as something more, something seductive, yes, someone who he thought about fisting his cock at those lonely nights, but, that wasn’t the full picture either. You were a caretaker… Maternal. 

“That’s fuck’n stupid.” Joel countered, bluntly. “Take’n care of children, that’s the most important job on earth, why, your daddy should but thrilled to have such a nurturing daughter!” His voice was raised just a bit, but not at you. Didn’t your dad see what a prize he had? A woman like that, well, you were of high value. You were a treasure. His bitch of an ex wife never really wanted to be a mother, he knew that now, just like his mother. They had Sarah because that’s what you did when you were married in the 90’s. Joel fell in love immediately… she never really attached, and much like his mother wasn’t mentally present on the rare occasion she was physically… Well, his ex-wife lasted longer than his mother did, anyway. You would never leave your child like that. You would never leave him like that. “Whadya need, sweetheart.”

Your fidgeting continues. “Well… $1000… but… It’s not a loan, I was hoping to… to sell you something.”

Interesting… you had his complete attention, whatever you needed, it was yours. $1000 was nothing, and he’d much sure such a good girl had everything she needed… you deserved it. 

“Whatever it it, darling girl, I’ll buy.”

He saw you taking a deep breath, hesitating at first before standing up and walking in front of him. You looked stunning in your red dress, an absolute marvel.

With a deep breath and hands folded in front of you., you answered what you were selling.

“Me.”

*

“W-what?” You were suddenly awake again, snapping back to reality at his words. “No, no Joel you’re just saying that…”

Joel shook his head. “I wouldn’t like about that, baby. C’mon, you gotta know how badly I want to marry you. You're my good girl. We’d be so happy together, just you and me…” A large, splaying hand on your bare belly. “And our baby…”

*

Joel stands up, walking over to you and towering his body over yours. “Sweetheart, do you know what you're asking?”

You look up at him and nod. “I do, Joel. Please know I understand what I’m doing.”

He shakes his head. “No, darling girl I’ll just give you the $1000, you don’t have to-”

“I want to.” You eyes shined at him, timid but attempting to look sure. “I can’t just take a hand out.”

“You can-” He reached for his wallet, but you grab his hands.

“I can’t. Joel…” You slide up to him, pressing your body too his. “I’ve seen the way you look at me… I look at you like that too.”

Reaching a hand up, Joel cups your face. “Baby…” He groans, erection growing in his pants already at the thought. “I don’t think I can do this just once… you gotta know that, don’t you? Special girl like yourself…” His eyes darted to your lips, cherry red and beautiful and oh-so inviting. 

You look down at his shirt as you behind to feel up his chest. Firm muscles of hard work under the softness of age. “Well, maybe… since my dad won’t help me…” You wriggle your pelvis against his, taunting him before looking up at his brown eyes again.  “We can come up with an arrangement?”

Joel was holding on by a thread. “Yeah? You gonna let me take care of you?” His thumb on your face spreads to your mouth, and when it prods are your lips, you open eagerly. Keeping eye contact with his brown orbs gone black, your nod and suck, the message clear. Yes sir.

“Fuck…” Joel mumbles his mouth encasing yours in a harsh, hard kiss and scooping you up with ease, only to lay you down on the couch. Your red dress splays and russles as he does, bending your knees so it slides down to your hips. When you make an attempt to remove the dress, rough hands stop you. “Keep the dress on.”

Your black tights, however, were ripped open to reveal white lacy underwear. “Uh fuuuuck..;. So beautiful…” He marvels at your pussy, so perfectly groomed for him. Falling to his knees on the floor, Joel mouths over the clothed core, his breath adding to the heat as he explored you. 

“You don’t have to-”

“I know damn well I don’t.” Joel snaps. “I don’t want to, sweetheart, I need to.”

With that, Joel ripped off your underwear with two hands and dived into you. He couldn’t help but palm himself over his pants as he did. You just tasted too good, and he was a starved man.

*

His thrusts continued, but with a different rhythm this time. Eyes sharply on yours, he drew back slowly but thrusting in hard. Slowly, hard. Less slow, more harder. Less slow… you were going to come again, eyes never leaving his for a moment. 

“Everything you ever need, everything you ever want, I’ll take care of. I’ll provide for you, I’ll love you, protect you, I’ll care for you… only thing you ever need to do is take care of me and this baby, okay? That’s it.”

You were dizzy, you were worn, you were on the precipice of climax and you were in love.

“Okay.”

His eyes light up, a smile spreading on his face. “Yeah, baby? You lett’n me fill you up?”

Joel knew you were ovulating. Of course he did. Joel tracked your periods to make sure he always knew what you needed. Heating pads, tea for bloating, pads and tampons and cups. He said he wanted to know so that he could take care of you emotionally.

Of course he knew when you were ovulating.

*

The next two hours were a blur of bliss, Joel taking care of all your needs, physical, sexual, even emotional.

At the end, a $2000 check was written in your name and a tender kiss on the head as he parted as well as plans between you to for next time.

For the next several months, ‘next time’ became more and more frequent, more and more demanding but a higher and higher price. Joel began to take care of it all. Your apartment, your food, every single need or want was handled by Joel, and in return every free moment was spent with him. You didn’t desire to see your friends. They just wanted to party. But you, you were serious about your passions. You were serious about helping people. Joel may have mentioned it once or twice when your grades were getting worse, suggesting instead of studying with them, you study at his place. He’d keep you on track. Quickly, your grades improved, and you began studying with Joel more and more. You eventually just stayed with him. 

It was like a dream, you had everything you needed, including Joel who whispered his love to you every chance he had. Joel took care of you in the way your father never did, Joel filled those gaps he left.

Joel took away every in convenience. He told you when your friends weren’t good for you, he cooked for you on late nights, he even began making appointments and getting your car fixed. Your parents were none the wiser, but you began to care less what they thought. Only Joel mattered, and the children. Joel took away every worry for you, and all you had to think about was making him happy, and what to do with your upcoming degree. 

*

“Yes Joel.” You whine, desperate to please him, desperate to remain his everything as he is yours. “Wanna be your wife, wanna have your babies, please?”

“Oh fuck,” He panted, holding on by a thread as his brows pursed together. “Gonna fuck you full, little mama.”

Your orgasm hits you, crashing waves causing you to cry out in a rigid scream. “Joel!!!” Your fingers claw bloody on his back. “Make me a mommy, please?”

“Ohhhhh, fuck yeah baby, good fucking girl, gonna put my baby in you, yes, yes yes, FUCK YES!” Joel growled and  unloaded into you, painting your inside in his cum and filling you to the brim before collapsing onto you. Heavy and overbearing, Joel consumed your body and every thought in your head and soon, your body and entire life will make room for him. 

Your mind reeled, the reality of what just happened setting in. At 22, you were at peak fertility… were you pregnant?

“Joel?” You ask, still clinging to him desperately. 

“I know exactly what you’re worried about, and what do I always tell you?”

You smell his neck, reassuring yourself with his mantra. “Don’t you worry your pretty little mind…” Joel always told you not to worry about a thing. He’d take care of it all, he’d take care of you…

 “That’s right, sweetheart. I know you’re worried about what I said…” Joel’s body pulls away just a bit, tucking his forehead to yours. “I’m gonna marry you, baby girl. I’m gonna take care of you and this baby. If you’re pregnant, if you really are my good girl, I’ll marry you.” Sitting back, Joel watches his cock slide out of you with a ‘pop’ and laments the cum seeping out of you. As he pushes it back in, Joel brings you to orgasm yet again.

*

You were, in fact, pregnant. As your belly swelled, Joel became more and more obsessed with you, constantly caressing your belly. You graduated college of course, as you dreamed, but finding a job… it wasn’t really on your raidar There wasn’t really a need. Joel handled it all, and he said he didn’t want you dealing with that stress right now. And who would hire a heavily pregnant woman?

Joel and you married in an intimate ceremony at the 4th month mark in a small baptist church. It was your parents, a few family members of yours and a friend who two who Joel thought were good influences and Sarah and Tommy were there of course. Joel promised you a big, fancy vowel renewal whenever you wanted, but a wedding like that takes time to plan, and you both wanted to me married when you had your baby.

Joel made you happier than you ever thought possible, he took care of everything. Of course, he controlled everything too, but that was okay. You didn’t need a bank app on your phone, all you needed to know was that your debit card would go through, and you knew it would. You didn’t need the routing and account number, you didn’t need to see finances, look at insurance plans, stocks, bills, anything like that. All you needed to do was take care of your body, and soon, this baby. 

“I gotta admit Joel, I wasn’t really a fan of this  at the start.” Your dad announces one Sunday dinner. He had invited Tommy and Sarah over as well. Extended family. Both had been hesitant at first, especially Sarah, who was a few years older than you… but they saw how you made her dad smile, and how Joel took care of you… how could they not be happy?

“I remember” Joel jokes back.

Your dad continued. “But I gotta say, this has been good for her.”

They tended to talk about you like you weren’t in the room, sometimes, but that was okay. You were Joel’s pretty, obedient wife, and you spoke when spoken too. You were there to support Joel, not meddle in his conversations.

Joel turned to you and smiled, kissing you on the cheek and feeling your 9 month swollen belly. “She’s come a long way, but she’s a good girl, obedient. Best wife I could ask for.”

Joel spoke for you, proudly telling them how after the baby was born and you’d recovered, you had plans to put your degree to use. Not work, oh gosh no! You don't need to worry about something like that. No, you’d be volunteering at a nonprofit. And isn’t that so much better!

You wouldn’t have to have another worry in your head again, outside of being a good mother. Your could give a few hours a week to children in need and then come home to a living family without being exhausted from long days on your feet.

Everything would be taken care of.

Everything would be handled.

All you had to do was be a good girl.

************

AHHHHHHHHHHHH

I hope you guys enjoyed!!!

I am so stressed rn ive been crying for days about work stuff. I dont want to work I want to volunteer and take care of children in need and have a hot husband fuck me and and and and ANYWAY

PLease consider reblogging, it's the only way to spread fics!

I love you all, thank you to everyone whose been raching out to me

@fandxmslxt69 @moriartyyouwhore @hereforthepedrofanfic @alwaysmicado @noisynightmarepoetry @morallyinept @kyloispunk @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @princesslunablogger

[hotgirlbedtimescenarios]

IF HE LOOKED AT ME LIKE THAT!!!!!!!!!!!

[evolnoomym]

WIP Wednesday!

Thank you for the tag lovely @joelmillerisapunk 🩵

I’m still only working on my first story and it’s gonna be a Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller Fic. So far it’s mostly OC’s past and just a lot characterization. These snippets are not finalized and may change. If it’s not obvious these events described are not made up those are real and they happened to me.

!Tw! : allusions to SA

“Her first kiss happened, when she was 13 and still played with dolls. He was 21 and had just gotten his drivers license, already moved out and had a job. Two years later at 15 she thought that 25 year police apprentice was deeply in love with her, would make her his, she thought he truly cared about her, but no….no he wanted to fuck a minor, he was after the thrill of a tight young pussy, to be the first to break her in and then throw her away once she served her purpose.”

“She was only 17 when it happened. The friendly guy in her semester group, the one who was troubled himself but made her feel like it’s okay, that he understood her, that she’s not alone in this fucked up world….Yeah that one, he would turn into a terrible nightmare who’ll haunt her for years to follow.”

“That voice, the way he talks….she would recognize it anywhere. He was right there, the monster who looked so nice in the beginning was just a couple inches behind her. She could practically feel him breathe down her neck just like he did that night….”

Npt: @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @penvisions @wintrwinchestr @mrsmando @tightjeansjavi @mountainsandmayhem @strang3lov3 @joeloverture @janaispunk @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @xdaddysprincessxx @joelsgreys

🩵🙏🏻

[haileybeehappy]

can you or anyone reading help me find the writer here. is was a joel miller smut where he's her sugar daddy, he fucks her bending over the dressing table even tho she's fully ready in a top class dress but he fucks it dirty, he does it bcz she laughed at something which he took as taking his party unserious, and then she had to change her clothes and jewellery all over again while he just simply walks out after putting his dick back in his pants and giving her a 30 min deadline. i know the warning as like---" a walking menace, buys you pretty things in exchange for shoving his cock in you. +18 smut, dub-con, painful and rough sex, p in v sex, degradation, abusive behavior, creampie, dirty talk, dacryphilia, no aftercare, sugar daddy, daddy kink This is NOT okay behavior." pls pls pls help me find it

I don’t think I’ve read this one but I hope you’ve found it!! It definitely sounds interesting and worth the read.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

TAKE CARE OF YOU [8B]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 11,971

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: it's here, holy moly. I'm glad I split it up otherwise this would've been a 23k word chapter 😂 love all of you for reading though and double love the beautiful souls who leave me words of kindness!]

Chapter Specific Warning: masturbation (F), reader is a thirsty bitch (which like is totally fair considering Joel Miller is 🥵), fluff and my usual attempt at humor, angst (but like the 'please trust me as the writer babes' kind)

08: YOU'RE JOEL MILLER'S SUGAR BABY!

"in the mess of feelings, focus on what is important, what brings peace to your soul, and let all the rest go." -all is not lost

The room was sweltering. You were damp with sweat. It’s the first thing you notice when you slowly begin to awaken. The second thing you notice is the strong arm resting around your waist and the firm chest at your back. Your groggy sleep heavy mind reminds you that Joel and you had gone to bed not too long after you iced his hand for him. Granted, being tangled in his limbs was a new thing.

You took a deep breath and settled against him. Everything about this moment screamed comfort. The soft morning sunlight streaming through the window, the warmth radiating from Joel’s embrace, his soft breaths fanning against the back of your neck. You could spend eternity in his arms.

Your squirming hadn’t woken Joel, but his sleeping form shifted to match yours. Any leftover drowsiness you had vanished when you felt something firm press against your ass. It took you a beat to recognize what was pressing into you because there was no way it was what you thought it was. Joel gave off ‘big dick’ energy without a doubt, but this was significant enough that you had to be mistaken. You squirmed once more and Joel’s arm tightened around you, pulling you in closer, and there was no mistaking it now. The hard bulge pushing perfectly against you was his cock. Holy fuck. When Joel had said he was a ‘big man’ yesterday you thought it just meant his broad shoulders.

Joel let out a soft sigh, a content mumble, and in a panic you let your body go limp and closed your eyes once more. Seconds later, you felt Joel stiffen behind you⏤ sucking in a sharp breath through his nose. You kept your own breathing even and smooth as Joel stayed completely still. Finally, he slowly pulled his hips back, trying not to shift the mattress, and untangled his arm from you. You rolled over and continued to feign sleep. 

“Jesus Christ.” Joel mumbled softly. You heard his soft steps padding across the room behind you, and you didn’t move until the bathroom door shut. 

You rolled onto your back then and lifted your hands to cover your face. 

Idiot, idiot, idiot. You chastised yourself. There was an ache in your core that you only had yourself to blame for. All these missed opportunities. You went to bed last night without kissing Joel. You woke up this morning and pretended to still be sleeping when Joel’s dick was literally pressed against your ass. The sound of the shower kicked on and your mind involuntarily conjured an image of Joel under a spray of hot water. The urge to slip your hand under your waistband and touch yourself was growing more and more overwhelming by the second. 

After a glance to the door, your need shoved common sense to the back of your brain, trampling over it to get in control, and your hand slipped into your pants. This had to be fast and the absolute dripping desire you found told you that wouldn’t be tough to manage. You dragged your middle and ring finger up your wet lips to the apex where you let it curl around your clit in circular motions a few times. Your breath hitched and you pushed your fingers back down through your wetness to sink into yourself. With the memory of his cock pressed against you and his hot breath on your neck, you were already dangerously close to snapping. The pace you found with yourself was fast rather than the languid way you usually would pleasure yourself, and you let the heel of your palm grind against your clit. It was startling how quick and hard you came at your own hand with the image of Joel’s broad shoulders and rough hands in the forefront of your mind. The beginnings of a cry accidentally slipped from your lips and you bit down on the inside of your cheek to shut yourself up. Your hand lingered against yourself as you caught your breath and let the waves of pleasure ebb and flow over you. 

The shower squeaked off and you sat up breathless, hand yanked out of your shorts. You could hear Joel moving around the bathroom and you struggled to calm your racing heart. As you shifted in place, trying to piece yourself back together, the feel of your now soaked panties was made more apparent and the back of your neck burned with a new warmth. You sent a silent prayer up to whatever deity may be listening that there wouldn’t be a noticeable damp spot on your sleep shorts when you stood.

  Much sooner than you thought, the bathroom door opened and your spine stiffened to sit straight up with your hands resting in your lap. Joel stepped out, hair damp and slicked back, with a towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes landed on yours and widened, “Hey. Hey.” Joel cleared his throat and his hand fell to readjust the towel on his waist. “You’re awake.”

“Mhmm.” You hummed with a tight lipped smile. Joel stood in the doorway like a deer in the headlights and you felt a weird awkward tension. There was no way Joel heard you. Not over the sound of the shower. Plus, you were mostly quiet. The tension must be coming from somewhere else. You pointed your hand out toward him with a nod, “So, I didn’t kick you last night, right?”

Joel’s face cracked into an amused smile and he chuckled, “Not a bit. I’m impressed.” Joel came further into the room and nodded back toward the bathroom. “You need it? I can change out here.”

“Yes. Yes, please.” You slid out of the bed and tugged the edge of your shirt down a bit⏤ not that it helped in covering your shorts. Joel’s eyes trailed up your legs to meet your gaze and you tried not to feel self conscious in your morning state. Between the bed head and the state of your underwear, you felt like a spotlight was shining down on you. 

Without pausing, you made a beeline to the bathroom. Before you got too far past Joel he caught you by the elbow and pulled you a bit closer. Your face burned warm under Joel’s stare. It was soft and warm, but underneath that was a hunger in his eyes that you were positive would remain burned into your memory forever⏤ haunting every dream you had of him. The corner of Joel’s lips twitched up. “I gotta say it proper.” He pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger and traced the bottom curve of your lip. “Good mornin', sugar.”

“Uh, yeah.” You mumbled in a daze. Joel raised an eyebrow at you skeptically, and you shook your head with a small laugh. “I mean, good morning, daddy.”

“Good girl.” Joel approved. As if you hadn’t just touched yourself at the thought of him, you felt a new ache between your legs demanding attention. He tapped his fingers under your chin once and pulled away. “Go on. I wanna spend as much time with ya as I can 'fore I’m dragged away for work.”

You smirked and scrounged up every ounce of bold bravery you had in your body to reach out and set a hand on his bare chest. Joel sucked in a sharp breath and the look of hunger burned so hot you could’ve sworn you literally felt the heat on your skin. “You could always play hooky with me.”

“As temptin' as that is,” Joel cleared his throat and rested his hand on top of yours, allowing his thumb to rub against the back of your hand, “Tess'd literally castrate me if I skipped anythin' today.”

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” You teased before you even considered the words. Joel raised his eyebrows with a slight tilt of his head and your eyes widened at your own words. “I, uh, I mean,” You used your other hand to point to the suitcase, “I should… I need to get ready so we can… yupp.”

Joel squeezed your hand then lifted it up off your chest to press a soft kiss against the palm of your hand. At the simple touch, your entire body relaxed and you thanked that same deity you prayed to moments before that the hand you settled on his chest hadn't been the one you pleasured yourself with.

A part of you wondered if you were going to melt into a puddle right here and now. He nodded his head toward the bathroom with a small smile and let go of your hand. Your first step away from him was more or less a stumble. Joel chuckled and you scrambled to grab a swimsuit and cover from the suitcase before rushing away to compose yourself behind closed doors and out of view of those tempting, hungry eyes.

When you stepped out of the bathroom twenty or so minutes later, dressed for a casual day by the pool, you were met with quite the sight. Joel was in the process of putting on his watch, but his outfit was what caught your eye. Joel was going golfing apparently. He had on a pair of khaki slacks with an olive collared, short sleeve shirt tucked into it. The shirt was just tight enough to stretch across his broad shoulders and the sleeves clung tightly to his thick arms. A pair of sunglasses were hanging from his open collar.

“Hello, Tiger Woods.” You said appreciatively. 

Joel glanced over briefly before doing a double take. His own eyes traced slowly down your form before confidently meeting your eyes once more. He chuckled, “Tiger Woods?”

“It’s the only golfer I know off the top of my head.” You replied and closed the space so you could reach out and run a hand down his arm. Joel’s eyes followed your hands' movements. “I like this look on you. Very preppy.” Joel’s gaze snapped to yours and he raised an eyebrow in question. You grinned impishly, “Golf Daddy.”

Joel laughed in amusement and shook his head. You looked around him to see his wallet was resting on the dresser by a black baseball cap. You frowned, “Are you gonna wear a hat?”

“Was gonna. Why?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen you in a hat before.” You shrugged. It just seemed a damn shame to hide Joel’s fluffy hair. Every time you saw him, you craved to drag your fingers through it. Not even in lust either. You just wanted to play with his wild slightly curled locks that seemed to have a mind of their own regardless of how Joel tried to shape it. Not to say you weren’t thirsty for this man. You also wanted to tug on his hair as he buried his tongue between your legs. The sudden and intrusive thought had a pang of desire cut through you. Jesus, at this rate you’d have to throw yourself into the pool head first just to cool off a bit. “Lemme see.”

Joel appeased your request and picked up the hat with an over exaggerated sigh⏤ as if you were asking him to carry the world. He pulled the cap on and tilted his head at you in question. Still doing whatever they seemed to want, his hair stuck out around the edges of the hat in half curls that you wanted to twist around your finger. “Well, sugar?”

“Okay. I guess I approve.” You grinned.

“Glad to hear it.” Joel reached out and set a hand on your waist to tug you a bit closer. “Ya know, I got a stetson at home. Does that meet your criteria or do I gotta get rid of it?”

You recognized the word and your eyes widened at the thought of Joel wearing an actual cowboy hat, “No, you don’t. You’re joking.”

“I’m from Texas.” He countered.

It was pathetic and sad the lengths you would go to see Joel Miller in a cowboy hat. The thought of Joel Miller in nothing but the cowboy hat flickered through your thoughts and you took in a slow breath. Fuck. Never mind throwing yourself in head first, you’d have to drown yourself in the pool to get these thoughts out of there. You cleared your throat, “I will allow it.”

“Really? Don't even gotta try it on for you or nothin'?” 

“Well,” You shrugged, “I wouldn’t be opposed to a… a viewing.”

Joel chuckled and tapped his hand against your waist a couple times before grabbing his wallet and sticking it in his back pocket. He motioned for you to follow him. “C'mon.” You grabbed your phone and hurried after him. “You’re usin' up all our breakfast time droolin' over me.”

“I am not drooling over you!” You gave him a light push.

“Don’t worry.” Joel paused as you both neared the door and before you knew it his arm was wrapped around your waist to tug you into his side. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You got me all hot an' bothered too, sugar.”

Flustered and giddy, Joel whisked you away for breakfast.

The two of you ended up at the same little cafe as yesterday, but this time they were serving breakfast dishes rather than the more broad brunch option. Joel had apologized profusely for taking you to the same place since he didn’t have time to take you out of the resort to eat somewhere else. You found the whole situation hilarious because never in a million years would you have even thought to complain or be bothered by it. Hell, you didn't pay it a single thought until Joel brought it up.

“Can I ask for a favor?” Joel suddenly asked as the two of you left the cafe. Your eyes widened to a degree that you were sure was comical. All the time you spent with him, and he never asked you for a favor of any kind. Joel never requested anything. You were actually happy to hear him ask because you wanted to give him more. 

“Anything, Joel.”

Joel chuckled but quickly cleared his throat. There was a look of anxiety written across his features, but when he spoke his voice still stayed strong and firm. “Stay in the Wynn today.” Despite broaching the topic as ‘asking for a favor’ there was a finality to his word that left no room for argument. “I’ll walk ya to the Wynn pool, I reserved a cabana there for you too, an' when you’re done just stay on campus.”

It wouldn’t be a difficulty. It wasn’t like you were being restricted to Guantanamo Bay⏤ this was the Wynn Resort in Vegas. There would be plenty to keep you occupied. You hesitated to respond to him though simply because you couldn’t puzzle out Joel’s expression. It wasn’t a difficult request, and yet Joel still had that nervous energy burning in his dark eyes. Almost as if he expected you to rebel against his request.

“Can I ask why?” Literally, there was nothing out of this building that interested you exploring as a solo errand, you came for Joel, but you were curious nonetheless.

“I hate the idea of leavin' you all alone.” Joel sighed. He readjusted the baseball cap on his head with a frown. “I really did try an' get outta this golf game, but Tess wouldn’ bite. Even Tommy was bitchin’ 'bout it.” He grumbled the last words with a tinge of annoyance.

You shook your head with a laugh and touched his arm. “Joel, it’s fine. I’m a big girl. I can find something to occupy my time until later today.”

“I know, but I brought you here to show you a good time, sugar.”

“You’re working. This is your job.” You tried to reassure him. Joel didn’t seem appeased, but he squeezed your hand and pulled you through the lobby. You leaned into his side with a smirk. “Besides, if you don’t go to work, how are you going to be able to afford to take care of me?” Joel’s face stretched out into a wide smile. His dimple was ever present and you couldn’t help but lift your free hand to poke him lightly in the cheek right over it making him chuckle. “I’m a needy girl.”

“You’re somethin' alright.”

“Something good?”

Joel rolled his eyes at your teasing smile and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it. “Somethin' absolutely incredible.” 

Your cheeks warmed pleasantly at his words. Joel was so charming and forthcoming with his compliments, yet every single time he spoke your heart would flutter. You never tired of his words of praise, and it was probably because they were always said with so much sincerity and warmth.

Joel was walking you to the pool, you knew that, but you were surprised when he walked out of the building with you and into the pool area. He scooped up a couple towels when you passed the stand and then he led you to a cute, little cabana. It was close to the water so you wouldn’t have to travel far, but it looked like it sat on a more secluded side of the pool.

“Tonight, we have the work dinner, but afterwards we can go out.” Joel reassured in a firm tone. He had already told you about the dinner. It’d be a collection of other heads of companies and Joel warned you it would be dry and boring. “I promise.”

“I’m looking forward to dinner tonight.” You said and it wasn’t even a lie. He gave you a dry look. You shook your head and cupped his hand with both of yours to squeeze his. “I am!” You shrugged a bit in mild embarrassment as you admitted the truth. “I always look forward to spending time with you, Joel. No matter what we end up doing.”

Joel’s gaze softened, and you pressed your lips together and shrugged again not knowing what else to do. He chuckled and leaned forward until his lips found the skin right under your hairline. Joel lingered there and your eyes fluttered close as you took in a deep breath of him. The second he pulled away you were already missing his touch. 

“I got my phone on me. You need anythin' at all, sugar, I’m one call away.”

You nodded and Joel lingered for a moment longer before making his leave. As you sat down on the chair outside the cabana, the towels he grabbed in your lap, you watched him go⏤ eyes raking up and down his frame unabashedly. When Joel reached the doors that would take him out of sight, he surprised you by turning around to give you one more glance. His gaze met yours and you spotted his smirk at the realization that you had been watching him go. You couldn't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. Joel winked before slipping away and you flopped back onto the chair with a soft sigh.

God, you had it bad for that man.

You had come to Vegas for Joel, but you had to admit it was kind of nice to have some alone time. It had been a long time since you had sat by a pool and just soaked in the sun. Maybe a year ago now? Nathan and you had taken a trip to the beach one weekend. It wasn’t a bad trip. Hell, it was possibly one of the last times you were really happy with him. But, it was a far cry from where you were now. Sitting in one of the lounge chairs in the shallow end of the pool with a book in one hand and a drink in the other⏤ not a care in the world. That was the difference. Unlike the last time you sat by a pool, you weren’t thinking about work or rent or bills. You just enjoyed yourself.

“Hi, is this seat taken?”

You looked up from your book to see a woman pointing to the chair next to you. She was gorgeous with a white one piece that complimented her curves and her light brown skin tone. The woman wore a large sun hat with her black hair tied off in two braids. 

“Oh, no. Go ahead⏤”

“Oh my god!” She chirped suddenly and you jumped in surprise at the squeal. She settled on the lounge chair but sat on the side of it so she could face you. “You’re that woman!”

You nodded blankly, “I am a woman, yes.”

She laughed and waved her hand. “My bad. Guess I should’ve been more clear. You’re Joel Miller’s sugar baby!” Your eyes widened and you just stared at her in shock. She paused in thought then snapped her fingers and said your name. This time your jaw dropped as the shock doubled. “You are her, right?”

“That…is me.” You replied slowly. You set your book and drink down on the side table and turned on the chair with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

“I go by Yo-yo.”

You pressed your lips together and glanced back at your drink. You only had the one pina colada so far, but it sure as hell felt you were wasted. What was going on? While you tried to puzzle out if you were having a stroke or not, Yo-yo settled in her chair and pulled a bit of sunscreen out of the bag she had set on her own side table.

“Yo-yo?” You questioned skeptically.

She glanced your way and rolled her eyes, “It’s a ridiculous name, right? I wasn’t about to use my real name. Plus, my sugar daddy liked it. You do what you gotta to get that bank.” She winked at you. “Am I right, or am I right?”

“I have so many questions.” You mumbled.

“Hm?”

“How do you know my name?”

“You're with Joel Miller. It's always a big deal. I mean, handsome bachelor, filthy rich, and that sexy accent and voice? Ugh.” Yo-yo groaned. “I am so jealous. My daddy is CEO of Simmons Construction. Very rich, but he’s 62 and it shows.” She finished rubbing sunscreen on her front and held the bottle out towards you with a sheepish smile. “Can I bother you with getting my back?”

You took the sunscreen and stood to rub it into her back like she asked. While doing so, you asked, “I know there’s this supposed ‘sugar baby’ network, but I’m not seriously this infamous am I? For you to know my name?”

“Normally, no.” You finished her back and she turned back around. You handed her the bottle. “But, not only did you nab the sexiest Texan to ever exist, but you also pissed off Rosalind Turby.” She laughed and you winced. Yo-yo shook her hand at you. “No, no! I’m not criticizing. I’m honestly impressed. Rosalind is such a cunt.”

Your eyes widened. “That woman is becoming a bigger part of my life than I thought she would.”

“Oh, if you stay in this game, baby, she’s your new god.”

“She’s that important?”

“Rosalind is Queen Sugar Baby.” Yo-yo rolled her eyes and pulled on a pair of sunglasses. “She’s been running this game for ages, and she’s very serious about her girls being the perfect ‘baby’. And if you’re not then she makes your life hell.”

You scoffed, “So, I pissed her off by not being a ‘perfect’ sugar baby?”

“No,” Yo-yo held up a finger to you, “You pissed her off because you took what she wanted.”

“Joel?” You cried. The woman had come to your bakery for her shot of him, yes, but you didn’t think she’d hate you enough to make you infamous around the community. “Seriously?”

Yo-yo pulled her glasses down the bridge of your nose to shoot you a wide grin and wink, “Can you blame her? God, Joel Miller has a face that was made to be ridden.” The weather was close to 100 degrees, you were cooking, yet still her words brought a whole new level of heat to your face. She pulled her sunglasses back up and moaned. “Girl, you have to tell me how good he is. There is not way he's anything less than fucking fantastic.”

The memory of his devastatingly large cock pressed firmly against your ass this morning made your breath hitch. Yo-yo continued to stare at you, as if waiting for you to elaborate on the dick you had yet to see, and you steered the conversation away. “So, do I need to worry about Rosalind showing up at my house with a meat cleaver?”

Yo-yo laughed, “Don’t worry about it. You’re not the only one on her shit list. She hates me too, and I’m not dead yet.”

“You too?” You asked. “Did you steal Simmons’ CEO from her?”

“Ugh, nobody wants that man. He’s basically satan. I’m doing the world a favor by keeping him away from other women.” She laughed. “No, no, she hates me because I technically ‘scam’ my daddies. Fucking ridiculous if you ask me.” She put the word in air quotations. “But, why shouldn’t I trick them? You can’t trust these men. They’re all just old pervs looking to wet their dicks.”

“Not all of them.” You said firmly. That wasn’t Joel. Yes, he was technically a sugar daddy, but that wasn’t what your relationship with him was. 

Yo-yo held her hands up in mock surrender. She sat up and threw her legs over the side to face you once more. “Listen, you gotta look out for yourself. It’s easy to get lost in the relationship, especially if you’re actually attracted to the guy, but after a few daddies you realize they’re using you. So, why not use them? For example, Simmons buys me a lot of really nice things, but I don’t keep it all.” She smirked. “I sell it on the side. It’s barely even a scam considering he’s buying the stuff for me to have. That means I can do whatever I want with it. Daddies don’t like the idea of a baby saving up money for themselves though and Rosalind has a stick up her ass about it. But, hey, I got a nice little nest egg saved up for when Simmons decides 25 is too old for him and wants a younger girl.” She shrugged. “You should consider it. Purses and dresses and jewelry are all nice, but they won’t last.”

You twisted your lips at her words. Honestly, you thought what she was doing was smart. The situations between you were different though. Right? Joel cared about you. He wanted to take care of you. A sinking feeling filled your belly. Yo-yo suggested planning for the future, and realistically speaking… Did you even have a future with Joel? You were planning on initiating something, giving into the temptation that was Joel, but where would something like this go? You felt like there was real chemistry between the two of you, but that hardly meant he wanted you around forever.

“How…” You shook your head and hoped the negative thoughts would loosen and fall away. There was another question you had for her. “How were you so sure I was Joel’s sugar baby. He could've brought anyone with him.”

Yo-yo waved over a waitress. “Easy. We’re in Vegas for the same reason. To be shown off.” You furrowed your brow and she shot you a curious look. “You’re coming to the dinner tonight, right? With all the contracting bigwigs?”

“I…am.” You nodded.

“Good. I know the other two sugar babies that’ll be there and they take this ‘getting shown off by their daddy’ thing so seriously. It’ll be nice to have someone normal to talk to.” Yo-yo replied as the waitress reached you. “Yes, I’ll take a mai tai. You want anything? It’s on my daddy.” She smirked and wiggled a gold credit card in her hand. 

“Sure, I’ll… take the same.”

Yo-yo continued speaking to the waitress and you settled back in your lounge chair. You and Joel were different. He didn’t bring you to Vegas to show you off. He brought you here to spend time with you. Granted, there was no reason he couldn’t do both. You shook your head. No, Joel’s intentions were pure. He took care of you, defended you, and he never once pressured you into anything you were uncomfortable with. Joel had given you no reason to doubt him. 

“Joel didn’t bring me to show me off.” You said firmly once the waitress left. You wanted to defend him. Joel wasn’t like the guy she was with right now.

Yo-yo frowned and waved her hand at you. “I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to upset you, I swear. I don’t even know the man and obviously you do. Maybe he is the unicorn of sugar daddies. Caring and kind and genuine. Hell, I hope he is.”

“What we have is…” You almost said the word ‘real’, but you worried Yo-yo really would think you were just some doe-eyed, naive fool. “It’s different. I’ve never done this before, and neither has he, so we’re learning together. Just having fun and… What?” You noticed Yo-yo was giving you a look that could only be described as pity. “What? What is it?”

“Joel Miller has had a sugar baby before.”

You felt a chill run down your spine as you stared at her in dumbstruck shock. One of the things that put you at ease about this relationship was the fact that he was just as new to this as you were. The two of you sat in an awkward silence as the world continued on around you. 

“Did he tell you that you were his first?” Yo-yo asked.

“No. Rosalind did.”

She nodded. “That makes sense. Rumor says the girl with Joel Miller was like us. Rosalind didn’t consider her legit.” You opened your mouth, but Yo-yo seemed to read your mind. “I don’t know much else. The only reason I know she exists is because when I was talking to a friend of mine about Rosalind's temper tantrum over you she mentioned this wasn't the first time Queen B lost her shit over Joel Miller.”

“That’s okay.” You mumbled.

Yo-you gave you a sheepish smile, “Hey, at least it wasn’t him who lied to you. That’s a good sign, right?”

Right. Joel never lied to you. But, it bothered you that he never mentioned it to you. Both of you discussed past relationships and he never brought up the fact that he had a sugar baby before you. In fact, the way he talked about how he was ‘lovingly bullied’ into this, and went on dates with other babies that didn’t go well, almost implied to you that you were his first. Yo-yo changed the subject, trying to cheer you up, and eventually the waitress returned with your drinks. You smiled and nodded when necessary in the conversation, but a part of your focus was still stuck on this news.

A doubt had been planted, and like a weed it’s roots crept deeper and deeper until it was anchored in place.

Yo-yo was fun. You liked her. In fact, you wished she didn’t live in Seattle because you would love to introduce her to Nima. They’d get along well. To a degree that was arguably dangerous to the LA region, but fun nonetheless. 

You spent the entire afternoon with her and even got lunch with her when the sun became much too exhausting to bear for another second. She recommended a place on the strip that was renowned, but you stuck with your promise to Joel and asked if the two of you could stay in the Wynn. She wasn’t condescending or judgemental when you explained why. She actually agreed happily.

Overall, your day had been fun. The only issue being the lingering doubts about Joel. He texted you throughout the day. Little comments here and there either mocking the men he was with or asking how you were doing. Every sweet text reminded you of what Yo-yo said and then you felt sick with guilt over having anxiety about him to begin with. It was why you were dressed in your pajamas lying on your back in bed staring at the ceiling with your phone resting by your head.

“Listen,” Nima spoke through facetime, “You say the word, and I will use all my miles to fly out there right now and kick his ass for you.”

“Joel didn’t do anything wrong. He never lied to me. Rosalind did, technically.”

“He didn’t lie, but he also didn’t tell the truth.”

You shook your head, “He didn’t owe me that truth.” This was oddly working for you. Nima defended you while you defended Joel. Unorthodox, but that was kind of your life right now anyways. “Joel said he’d never lie to me and he hasn’t. That’s what matters.”

“Do you know any more about this other sugar baby? The one before you?”

You frowned at the phrasing and reminded yourself of the same things you were telling Nima now. Joel never owed you anything. There was no need for him to bring up the information, and you had never asked. You just assumed Rosalind was telling the truth and that was your first mistake.

“No.” You said. “Just that there was one, and Roaslind didn’t like her.”

“Okay, but at this point, have we met anyone that Rosalind does like?”

You shrugged, “Joel?” Nima laughed through the phone and your lips curled up at the sound. “Thanks for this, Nima.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” She said. You rolled over and picked up the phone to look at her. She was still in her office at work, but since it was already after five you assumed she’d be going home soon. “You can thank me after I beat the man senseless with a baseball bat.”

You shook your head, “He’s literally the boss of your boss, and you think kicking his ass is a good idea? It’s gonna be hard to keep your job after that, and I’m sure the letter of recommendation they gave you wouldn’t be all that grand.”

“Are you kidding?” Nima smirked at you confidently. “When you’re as good as I am at what you do then kicking your boss’ ass is absolutely an option. I get job offers on a weekly basis.”

“You’re such a badass.” You chuckled.

“I know.” Nima beamed. The sound of her office door opening made you pause and Nima glanced up from her phone to answer the question of whoever poked their head in. You sighed and let your head fall forward to rest on the bed. Joel would be back any minute now, and you should be getting ready for dinner. Before coming, back when you had been shopping, you asked Joel what kind of settings you had to dress for and he mentioned the dinner. With his help you had picked out a dress specifically for the dinner. At the time it seemed the usual amount of cute, but now your plaguing thoughts wondered if he helped pick it out because the whole point was to just show you off. “Babe?”

You lifted your head to see Nima was staring at you in concern. You offered her a sad smile, “I just wish I could turn my dumb brain off for like two seconds.”

“Your brain is not dumb.” Nima replied. “It’s smart and beautiful and kind and loving. It’s one of my favorite brains”

Your smile turned sincere, and you shook your head at her, “What would I do without you?”

“Well, for one, you’d have to buy your own baseball bat to beat Joel with.”

“I’m not beating him with a bat.” Nima opened her mouth and you cut her off. “And I’m not letting you do it either.”

The sound of the door chiming and being opened made you say quick goodbyes to Nima who forced you to agree to text her an ‘SOS’ if you needed her skills with a blunt object. She also took the time to assure you that she had a friend in Vegas who could definitely help hide a body.

“Hey, you here?” Joel’s voice called out.

You tossed your phone back onto the bed before making your way out into the main room. Joel had showered and changed out of his golf clothes after the game. You had still been poolside at the time. Then his afternoon was filled with work. He wore a plain dark gray, bordering on black, suit with a white shirt and a pink tie of all things.

“Pink?” You motioned toward him. 

Joel readjusted the tie and gave a sheepish smile, “Fathers day gift from the girls. The color is a⏤ it’s an inside joke between us.” Joel nodded toward you with a furrowed brow. “Not that I’m complainin', 'cause I like the look, but pajamas aren’t really in the dress code tonight. Need some more time?”

“I uh…” You blurted with no prepared excuse in mind. 

Whatever look you wore on your face though was enough to fill Joel’s with concern. Joel closed the few feet between the two of you and cupped your face. “You feelin' alright, sugar?” One of his hands crawled up to feel your forehead. “Sick?”

“No, I’m okay.” You shook your head. “I think I was just in the sun too long today.”

“Did'ya drink 'nough water by the pool?”

“I thought so.” You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Now, I’m wondering if that last pina colada should've been an ice water.” Joel returned the smile, but there was still worry in his dark eyes. “I’m sorry, Joel. I don’t know if I can do the dinner tonight⏤”

Joel shook his head, “Hey, don’ worry yourself 'bout that. Dinner doesn’ matter.” He gently tugged you toward the couch so he could settle you on the cushions. “Do ya need me to take ya to a doctor? I’m sure I can find an urgent care 'round here that’s open, and if not the hospital is⏤”

“Joel, no.” You said firmly. “Seriously. I’m just…tired, I think. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizin'.”

You twisted your lips in guilt. Joel was paying you to keep him company and you were bailing on the main event. He was paying you. You didn’t often think those words because it left a bitter taste in your mouth. Joel brushed some hair from your face.

“Can I get ya anythin' while I’m out?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Alright.” Joel leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You got your phone?” When you told him it was in the bedroom, Joel fetched it and brought it back to you. “Call me if you start feelin' worse. I’ll be back later.”

You nodded, “Good luck at the dinner.”

Another wave of guilt washed over you as you watched the door shut behind Joel. In this kind of situation most people would probably be angry. Nima was angry. You were so conflicted that you couldn’t even be angry correctly. You flopped back on the couch and lifted your phone. A bullet point list had been made to keep your thoughts straight when you met with Joel for the first time. Maybe a pros and cons list would help you decide if you wanted to be angry, guilty, or just sad.

Pro: Joel made you happier than you’ve been in a long time.

Con: He was paying you which made you more of an employee than a friend or lover.

Pro: Not having to worry about your bills has taken such a weight off your shoulders. One you didn’t even know you were carrying.

Con: That was a lot of power to give him. If you quit your job like he wanted too then you’d really be reliant on him. 

Pro: You were beginning to feel real emotions for this man, emotions you thought your ex had destroyed.

Con: If Joel didn’t share those real emotions you were going to get really hurt.

Pro: You were beginning to believe he did truly care for you.

Con: You had no idea if you were mixing that up with a man just showing interest in his sugar baby.

Pro: A part of you was starting to be okay with the sugar baby status. Relationships sometimes had really weird starts. People had met in weirder ways.

Con: If you really weren’t his first sugar baby, then the question remained. What if you were just one of many? You were young and poor and willing to let him control your life. It could just be what gets him off?

You stared at the list in front of you for another beat before mumbling a string of curses. That had somehow confused you more. This would be easier if you could detangle your feelings from this. View Joel in the same way Yo-yo views her sugar daddy. A means to an end. This even allowed you to jump his bones. You had no qualms with the idea of casual sex. It was like Nima had pointed out though, your last relationship had been serious and monogamous. Despite that, you truly believed you could handle a casual relationship. The issue was you already had feelings for the man, and you were bad at ignoring that.

It was approaching close to an hour since Joel left and you were still agonizing over your pros and cons list while Netflix played in the background, and you were half tempted to call Nima again. You only resisted because you knew if you called her again she’d take that as an invitation to meet you in Vegas ready to go to war. The sound of the door chiming startled you and you were half off the couch in panic when Joel stepped through.

“Hey, how’re you feelin'?” He asked. You stared at him blankly. In one hand he had a large brown bag and in the other a small bouquet of sunflowers in the other. “Sugar?”

“Joel!” You blurted and rose off the couch to greet him. “What’re you… The dinner! It can’t possibly be over yet.”

“Never went.” Joel set the bag on the nearby table and held the flowers out to you. “I asked the lady what flowers meant ‘feel better soon’ 'nd she said tulips, yellow roses, or sunflowers. Choice was obvious 'nough.” You took the bouquet and held them to your chest⏤ still speechless in shock. “Then I went to pick us up some food. It only took me so long 'cause of Vegas traffic an' I had to go off the strip to find a place.”

“But… But dinner?”

Joel grinned boyishly with a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “My options were go to a stuffy dinner with guys I got no interest in seein', or have a night in with you.” He began to loosen his tie. “C'mon, sugar.”

You blinked at him. “Tess?”

“Will probably kill me.” Joel pulled the tie off with a shrug and gruffly added. “But she wants to kill me most days anyways.” He nodded to the bedroom. “Gimme a minute. I’m dyin' to get out of this damn suit.”

Joel tapped under your jaw with the side of his fist before heading to the bedroom. Even after he disappeared from view you stood frozen for another few seconds. Finally, you snapped out of it and walked over to the table. You set the flowers down and peeked into the bag to see the to-go food he mentioned. Carefully, you unpacked the bag and after the second box you realized it was Korean food. You froze again and felt a lump form in your throat. A while back, during a late night phone call, you had mentioned to him that Nima introduced you to Korean food by taking you home to meet her mother, and it had easily become a comfort food to you too. There was a Korean place a few blocks down from you where you’d pick up food on your way home on particularly bad days.

“I tried to order the soup you were talkin' 'bout, but you used the Korean word for it an' I sure as hell wasn’ gonna pronounce that right.” Joel spoke up from behind you. You spun to see him leaning against the doorway in a plain t-shirt and pajama pants. “So, I just described it to the woman an' she gave me the closest thing. Seaweed soup?” You nodded dumbly. “Good. Just in case I ordered a bunch of other stuff too.”

Suddenly, the pros and cons list you made didn’t matter all that much to you. Because right now, in this moment right here, Joel cared louder than the anxiety yelling in your brain. You dated Nathan for two years and he outwardly told you that he loved you. But before the two of you moved into together, when you had separate apartments, you paid for his rent when he lost his job, yet when you needed help covering your water bill once he claimed he wasn’t comfortable giving you so much money that early in the relationship. So much money being $100. When you asked him about one of his exes not only did he blatantly lie to your face about the last time he had seen her and after you found out he forced the three of you to get dinner together to prove whatever stupid point he was trying to make. And, right before you broke up, when you had caught the flu and begged him to pick you up some food from the place down the road, he refused because he said he didn’t like the smell of kimchi and didn’t want to go into the restaurant.

Your eyes filled with tears and Joel’s face fell. He pushed off the door frame in a hurry and pulled you into his arms. You buried your face into his chest and tried to bite back a sob. Joel soothingly cupped the back of your head, “Hey, you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You murmured into his chest and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be crying.” 

Joel shushed you softly and pulled you back so he could meet your gaze, “None of that. It’s okay. You’re okay.” His hand cupped under your jaw as his thumb traced back and forth on the skin there. “Talk to me, sugar.”

You stared into his eyes and felt nothing by safety and warmth. “I’m just really thankful for this. For you. Just… Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me, Joel.” 

Joel’s lips curled into a soft smile, “What have I said 'bout thankin' me for things I wanna do?”

Rather than answer, you just held his gaze. Joel did the same and the air between the two of you felt charged. There was always an energy bubbling anytime you were with Joel, but this was stronger⏤ more tangible. His eyes darted down to your lips then back up. Joel was going to kiss you. You were so sure of it. When his eyes darted down to your lips again you let them part. Anticipation electric on your skin. Joel sucked in a sharp breath. He leaned in, but his lips didn’t land where you thought they would. Joel set a kiss on your forehead, right above your eyebrows, and lingered there. 

He had kissed your forehead before, did so right before he left an hour ago, but this was more intimate somehow. Your eyes fluttered closed and you took in a slow breath before letting it out. Joel pulled his warm lips away from your skin and let his own forehead rest against yours.

Your eyes stayed closed as you soaked in the feel of his hot breath against your skin and a pang of disappointment shot through you. “Joel…”

“I know.” Joel’s voice was hoarse and rough. “I… I know.”

Slowly, you let your eyes open and found Joel with his eyes already on you. “It’s okay.”

“You are…” Joel locked his jaw and closed his eyes. 

There was something holding him back. You saw it written all over his face. Maybe you should worry that this had something to do with what Yo-yo had tried to tell you. Ten minutes earlier and you would’ve. Your anxiety would have grabbed hold of it, written it in bold on your cons list, and never left it alone. But, right now you felt at peace. That’s what Joel brought with him⏤ a sense of peace and calmness to your very soul. And that’s what you wanted to bring to him. You wanted to take care of him.

Your hands lifted to cup his face and when his eyes opened you gave him a bright smile. “If we don’t eat now the food’s gonna get cold.” His jaw relaxed and he murmured your name. Just as he did to you, you nodded, “I know.” 

Joel cleared his throat and caressed your face once more before nodding, “Come on. Let’s get some food in you, pretty girl.”

While Joel finished pulling out the food, you set the sunflowers in a vase that was probably only meant for decoration and filled it with water. A glance over your shoulder showed Joel setting the food up on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

“I put the wine from last night in the mini fridge if you wanna grab it.” 

“Yeah, sure.” You made your way over and grabbed two glasses while you were doing so. “I gotta see what bribe wine tastes like.”

Joel turned and shot you a skeptical look, “Bribe wine?”

“The Wynn gave you the expensive wine to bribe you into not telling all your rich friends that you and your guest got accosted in the casino.”

He shook his head, “That is not bribe wine.”

“Why are you so sure?” You set the wine glasses down on the table and began to look for the corkscrew. “Do you dabble in bribe wine often, Mr. Miller?”

Joel groaned, “Don’ you start with this Mr. Miller shit.”

“Why not?”

“Because last I checked,” Joel stepped closer as you used the corkscrew you found in a drawer to begin opening the wine, “You’re supposed to be callin' me somethin' else.”

You gave the cork a tug, but it didn’t budge. “Hm, I can’t possibly think of what.”

“Oh, you can’t?” Joel remarked. You shook your head and gave the cork another useless tug. He took the wine bottle from you and, without breaking eye contact, Joel popped the cork out with ease. You went to grab it from him, but he pulled it back with a tilt of his head. “Manners, sugar.”

The worst case scenario would’ve been an awkward air settling in the room around you after coming so close to kissing him only for it not to happen. That being said, Joel slipped right back into the familiar teasing and that made you sigh happily. You held your hands out, “Thank you, daddy.”

“Good girl.” Joel chuckled and let you take the bottle from him. As you poured into the two glasses, Joel scooped up the remote and sat down. You dropped down next to him and handed him his glass. He tapped it against yours. “Any requests?”

“I’m not picky. You can choose.” You took a sip of the wine then hummed. “Mmm, this bribe wine tastes amazing.”

Joel laughed but didn’t take his gaze away from the screen as he flipped through different options, “You’re impossible, ya know that?”

He picked a random Netflix original action movie titled ‘Triple Frontier’ and tossed the remote aside. The movie played in the background, but the two of you ended up talking through a lot of it as you pointed out different foods that Nima had introduced you to originally and he had picked up. When the meal had been finished, you were curled into his side still sipping wine half chatting and half watching the movie.

A moment of silence rose up between the two of you and after a second you filled it, “About the dinner I made you miss⏤”

“First off, you didn’ make me do anythin'.” Joel scoffed. “An' secondly, I swear to God, if you apologize again…”

You chuckled, “Okay, I won’t apologize, but we’re in Las Vegas, the city that never sleeps, and I have us sitting on the couch watching a Netflix movie.”

“This right here is literally my definition of a perfect night.” Joel shook his head at you.

You leaned against his shoulder and decided to mention your afternoon, “I, uh, I met one of the sugar babies that was gonna be at the dinner tonight.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. She goes by Yo-yo.”

“Doesn’ ring a bell…”

“I think she said her sugar daddy is Simmons? Of Simmons Construction?”

Joel groaned loudly and hung his head backward, “Jesus, Simmons? Girl gotta be a saint to put up with that bastard.”

“She did refer to the man as ‘satan’.”

Joel lifted his head and smirked at you, “See? You saved me from a night with satan.” You chuckled. “Zero reason to be apologizin’. I should be thankin' you.”

“I think it’s a shame I didn’t get to meet him.” You hummed. “It sounds like quite the experience.”

Joel sighed and took a long sip from his wine glass, “Yeah, well, there’s always next year, sugar.”

Your eyes widened at his words, but Joel didn’t even blink. It was like he hadn’t even realized what he just said⏤ what he inferred. That you’d be here next year. With him still. You shifted your gaze back to the TV and smiled to yourself. 

After another few quiet moments, you pointed toward the TV with your glass, “That guy looks like you.”

“Him?” Joel asked skeptically. You nodded in confirmation. “I’m better lookin' though right?”

“Of course, daddy! So much better looking.” You nodded. 

Joel chuckled and reached down to pinch your side making you squeal and nearly spill your wine, “Right answer, wrong tone, ya little brat.”

You settled back against him, and Joel didn’t hesitate to tuck you in under his arm.

When the movie ended, Joel clicked on whatever the first suggested movie was so something was still playing, but neither of you paid enough attention to even know the title. The hand behind your shoulder was drawing circles on your shoulder while telling you about how excited he was that his eldest daughter was coming to visit soon.

“Do you have something fun planned?”

“We gotta tradition where we go to the drive in theater. No matter what’s playin'. Just sit in the bed of the truck an' hang out.”

You grinned, “That sounds fun.”

“It is.” Joel nodded and grew silent in thought. You thought he’d follow his last statement up with something else about the girls, but he caught you off guard with something else. “I wanna kiss you so bad, sugar.”

It was a good thing you had already set down your glass of wine otherwise it would have slipped right out of your hands. You sat up so you could turn in place and face him on the couch. Joel’s eyes traced your features with a sigh. Slowly, you nodded, “Do you… Do you want to talk about why you haven’t?”

“I’m jus',” Joel lifted his hand and caressed your jawline with his thumb, “Tryin' real hard to be good.” You opened your mouth to argue that he didn't have to be, but Joel pressed the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip to stop you before a word even came out. “Nah, I gotta. I gotta be good.” He forcibly dragged his eyes up from your lips to your eyes. “I like what we got. I like this. If I do somethin' to fuck it up, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“And giving me just a little kiss is gonna do that?”

Joel’s lips curled into a melancholic smile, “I think you an' I both know if we start it ain’t gonna be just some little kiss, baby girl.”

It was the first time he had used that pet name towards you and you just melted. If he was trying to steer the both of you away from temptation, calling you ‘baby girl’ was not helping. “How do you know that this won’t just get better?” It kind of stung realizing the reason he stopped earlier was because he thought a physical relationship would ruin this. “Why do you assume that would fuck this up? I⏤”

“No.” Joel said firmly and he squeezed his hold on the side of your face at the same time for even more emphasis. “Not you. What I jus' said? I’m talkin' 'bout me. Me fuckin' it up. It comes from… from personal experience.”

You wanted more information. You wanted him to explain more. You wanted to ask him about the sugar baby that came before you. Was that the personal experience he was talking about? All those thoughts, and you somehow couldn’t get a single one out of your damn mouth. 

“I’m only bringin' this up 'cause I don’ want you confused.”

“Confused about what exactly?”

“'bout how much I want you.” Joel replied. You attempted to swallow the forming lump in your throat, but it didn’t help. “I jus' wanna do right by you, sugar. An' that…that’s just gonna take a little time, okay?” You gave him a small nod. “Can we jus' stay what we are in the meantime? If… If you don’t wanna wait for me to get my shit together, if you wanna walk, I understand.”

“No. I’ll wait.” You blurted. The thought of Joel leaving your life was too painful to even consider. The man had carved a slot in your life, and his absence would be noticed⏤ not just financially speaking either. If you walked away, you would miss him badly. Waiting was hardly a cost you had to think twice about. Especially, since you’d still have him in the meantime. Maybe not in the entire way you wanted him, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “If it means being with you, then I’ll happily wait.”

Joel pressed a chaste kiss to your temple before pulling you into a tight hug that you returned without hesitation. This wouldn’t be easy, but it was worth the effort. You pulled back and suggested changing the movie from whatever was playing to something the two of you would actually pay attention to, best of your ability at least, and Joel agreed. He grabbed the remote and pulled you into his side. The two of you were only a few options into the discussion when someone knocked on the door⏤ loud enough that it could probably be referred to a ‘banging’ rather than simply knocking.

“Did you order something?” You asked.

“No.” Joel rose cautiously and held a hand out for you to stay on the couch. There was a tension in his shoulders that worried you.

He only took a step forward when a female voice drifted faintly through the shut door, “Miller, I swear to Christ if you don’t open this goddamn door…”

Joel muttered a curse but his entire frame visibly relaxed. He glanced over his shoulder while approaching the door. “Whatever she says, jus' know I’m sorry for it.” You furrowed your brow at his words, but he explained no further. Joel tugged the door open and a brunette haired woman stormed in. Her light shade of hair was pulled back into a low, loose bun. A style thrown together just to keep it out of her face more than likely. She was around Joel’s age, if you had to garner a guess, and she wore a black form fitting dress that looked incredible on her, but you could see she wasn’t entirely comfortable in it. “Tess⏤”

“You son of bitch.” Tess pointed at him threateningly. She was shorter than him by a head, but Joel still reeled back with his hands held in mock surrender. “See? Can’t even fight back because you know you’re in the fucking wrong.”

“I’m sorry⏤”

“You know who I spent my night with?”

“Tess⏤”

“Putting up with Simmons, Crew, Han, and their trio of bimbo sugar babies.” Tess snapped. You frowned. Yo-yo was hardly a bimbo, she confided in you the reason she was saving up all that money was because she wanted to go back to college and then on to Law School, but she also told you she played it dumb around Simmons so you couldn’t fault Tess’ words. “All so you could⏤”

As if suddenly remembering why Joel had bailed, her light hazel eyes snapped to you. You stiffened awkwardly and not knowing what else to do, you lifted a hand in a pathetic wave, “Uh, hi.”

Tess stared at you for another beat before letting her eyes drag back to Joel in a look you could only describe as irritably smug. “Well⏤”

“Tess.” Joel snapped with fire in his voice. You finally looked away from Tess to glance at Joel. He was stiff again and you recognized the look of anger on his features with ease. “Don’t.”

Tess crossed her arms and scoffed, “Go get dressed. You’re getting drinks with the pricks.”

“I’m what?”

“I spent the last three hours pretending like I didn’t want to stab Simmons in the neck with my dinner fork.” Tess warned. “The least you can do is get that pretty little ass in a suit and go get one drink with him so you can discuss the Golden Plains plans.”

Joel locked his jaw and didn’t reply. Tess didn’t say anything further either. The two just glared at one another. She was sharp and cool ice while he felt like a wild and burning fire, yet it felt like an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force. Finally, Joel huffed angrily and shook his head.

“C’mon.” He grunted at you. He held his hand out as he walked toward the bedroom.

You began to stand, despite not loving the rough, grumbled command, but Tess shook her head. “No sugar babies allowed, per Simmons. Just the big boys for cigars and drinks.”

“What makes you think I give two shits what Simmons wants??”

“Play fucking nice, you ass.” Tess snapped. “You owe me.”

“Because you did your job at one dinner? I⏤”

“San Antonio 2019.”

Joel paused and scoffed, “Never let me live that fucking down.”

He waved his hand at her in irritation before disappearing into the bedroom. You heard the bathroom door slam shut and you jumped in place. The sound had been enough to remind you that you were now alone in a room with Tess. Slowly, you turned toward her to see she was already staring at you with the cold look she had pierced Joel with.

“Hi.” You said sheepishly and offered her a nervous smile. You introduced yourself, “Joel has told me a lot about you. I⏤”

“You two fucking?” Tess blurted. Your face burned and you opened your mouth to splutter out the beginnings of the answer, but she shook her head. “Guess not considering I’m finding you both on the couch fully clothed.”

You set your hands on your hips and cleared your throat, “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Don’t care if we did.” Tess replied. She marched closer and you had to resist the urge to scramble back from the incredibly intimidating woman. “Listen to me right now because I’m only giving you this warning once.” Tess crossed her arms. “The Miller brothers get these dumb fucking ideas in their head, but once they pick one they’re like a dog with a bone. Can’t get them to shake it.” She narrowed her eyes at you. “I told him I thought this was a stupid ass idea, but like I said⏤ dog with a fucking bone.”

“Look, I⏤”

“I’ve known Joel for twenty years.” Tess said firmly. “He’s family. Him, the girls, his idiot ass brother. I’ve been taking care of them from the start and I don’t do well with strangers stepping in to take advantage.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “No, no. This is a misunderstanding. I am not taking advantage of Joel.”

“So you paid for half this trip to Vegas?”

“Uh, no, but⏤”

“And he’s not paying all your bills?”

“Well⏤”

“Footing the cost of every single⏤”

“Hey.” You snapped to interrupt her and Tess’ eyes widened marginally in surprise. You swallowed nervously. Nima knew a friend that could help you hide a body, but there was something about Tess that told you she could drag you out to the desert alone and figure it out herself. “Yes, he is taking care of me, but it’s not just… I care about him. A lot. Joel means so much to me. I’m not just here to make ends meet. I really like him.”

Tess hummed, “Right. You’re one of those rare sugar babies who like a guy for their personality and not their wallet?”

“Well,” You cracked the most friendly smile you could muster to try and break the tension, “It helps he’s gorgeous.” Tess continued to glare at you, and you were tempted to throw a chair through the suite window and leap out just to avoid her stare. Granted, she looked close to just throwing you out herself. “Bad joke. Very bad joke. That was⏤ I’m sorry. When I get nervous my mouth just says things without my permission.”

It was painfully silent in the room as she just stared at you. You cleared your throat and just stood there awkwardly. Finally, Tess spoke up, “You step one toe out of line, and you will regret it. Do I make myself clear?”

The sound of the bathroom door opened and you nodded. “Crystal.”

Joel stepped back out wearing the suit he had earlier, but without the tie. The top few buttons of his shirt were messily hanging open and he didn’t bother fixing his tousled hair. Tess rolled her eyes at him, “Finally. Let’s go.”

“Just hang on.” Joel walked toward you.

“Miller⏤”

“Give me two fuckin' seconds, Tess.” Joel snapped.

Tess scoffed and marched out of the room into the hall without a passing goodbye in your direction. Joel finally reached you and his warm hands cupped your arms. You focused back on him and the softness you had grown used to had returned in his gaze. “So, she hates me.”

“No.” Joel shakes his head. “She don't.”

“You weren’t in here with us a minute ago, I think she might try and kill me.”

Joel chuckled and dragged a hand up past your shoulder to cup the side of your neck. “Tess is just… protective. A bull dog.”

You furrowed your brow, “She compared you to a dog too a second ago.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

Joel kissed your forehead, “I don’ know when I’ll be back so don’ wait up for me, 'kay? Same deal as last time. You need anythin' an' you jus' shoot me a text. Do not leave this room or let anyone in while I’m gone.” You nodded, but Joel wanted more than that. “Understood?”

“Yeah, I got it.” You agreed.

Joel brushed his thumb against your cheek in a caress once more before wishing you a good night and leaving. With both of them out of the room, you felt like you were finally catching your breath. 

Vegas had been a whirlwind, but you supposed that was the appeal of the city to so many. Your hand was tangled with Joel’s as the two of you slowly walked through the lobby. Your bags had already been packed and brought down to the car by the staff. Now the two of you were just lingering for the sake of lingering. Joel told you more about the annoying time he had last night⏤ he hadn’t managed to get back until just past midnight.

You focused on the drag of his thumb against the back of your hand as he spoke. As much as you hated to admit it, you only half paid attention to the words he was saying. Your mind was playing through your meeting with Tess line by line. There was something nagging at you.

Joel squeezed your hand suddenly and you snapped your gaze to see him looking beyond you. He nodded, “She’s callin' you.”

“Huh?” You glanced over your shoulder to see Yo-yo waving to you as she hurried over. She wore a white cocktail dress that clung to her skin. Her hair was curled in pretty wave. “Oh, Yo-yo, hey.”

“I am so glad I caught you!” Yo-yo squealed and pulled you in a tight hug despite your hand still being connected to yours. “Ugh, I missed you so much last night. Can’t believe you bailed on me!” 

“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling good.” You motioned to Joel. “Yo-yo, this is Joel Miller. Joel, this is Yo-yo. She’s the one I met by the pool yesterday.”

“It’s super nice to meet you, Mr. Miller.” Yo-yo replied in a musical tone. 

Joel grunted in agreement with a curt nod. You gave him a curious glance, but he met your gaze. He nodded once, “Stay. I’ll get the car.”

“Oh, okay.” You replied. Joel pulled his hand from yours and wandered away. You furrowed your eyebrow in slight confusion.

Yo-yo chuckled and her tone lost the bubbly tone to return to her baseline normal one, “Wow. He is just as stoic and grumpy as everyone says.” You opened your mouth to argue. Technically, neither of those words described the man you spent your days with, but you couldn’t deny they fit him in the few seconds with Yo-yo here. “Also, he seriously is stupid hot. God. His jawline just makes me wanna gnaw on it. Shame he’s kind of a sleaze ball.”

“I don’t even know what that means⏤ wait, what?” You shook your head as the final part of her statement dawned on you. “What did you just say?”

Yo-yo twisted her lips in a frown, “I seriously am glad I caught you. I mean, I was gonna call you regardless, but this is probably better in person.”

“Yo-yo, spit it out.” You snapped. 

“I did some digging last night when Simmons was out. Called a few girls I actually trust.” She sighed. “Best I’ve gathered, the sugar baby he had before you? Her name is Heather. Granted, I have no idea if that’s her real name or not since a good bit of us lie about that.” Yo-yo reached out to hold your elbow. “Anyways, my friend Tammy says the last time Heather bragged about seeing him was around four months ago.”

You blinked in shock. Four months? That was even less time considering you and Joel had been hanging out for almost a month and a half now. Worse, if it were true that meant Joel lied to you. He said his last relationship had been a year ago.

“That’s not the worst part…” Yo-yo said slowly.

“That’s not…” You lifted a hand to your face. You didn’t mean to snap at her, but it came out in frustration and confusion. “How exactly does it get worse, Yo-yo!?”

She hesitated a beat before sighing. Yo-yo said the words, you saw her mouth move and the words entered your skull, but they rattled around in a way that left your ears ringing. Yo-yo was saying your name in concern, but you were still trying to register her previous statement.

“He married her. Joel is a married man.”

Yeah. Yo-yo was right.

That was worse.

taglist (closed):

@weddingfairy @bfences @fairntonorth @jasminedragon @biwitchy @huffle-punk @shelbyteller @anoverwhelmingdin @aheadfullofsteverogers @stagerightlauren @basicoccult @rinnfey @boofy1998 @farintonorth @thepascalofus @amatis-gray @casa-boiardi @northernbluess @jettia @sapphicsoie @spidey-3 @camiali25 @hrtsforpascal @gingersince97 @sentients17 @bigboiseason123 @lunxramour @ktheunready @heyheyheygaypay @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @adoringanakin @come-hell-or-eldren-fire @cherriebat @whitewolfstar01 @alyssa121611 @asreadbyaj @painfullyandprettypoetic @cantobightcafe @hellooseulgi @str84pedro

[previous][next]

✨J.M. Masterlist✨

[joels-darlin]

Little help required…

Okay Tumblr is a powerful place and if I can get answers I thought it would be here.

I have very recently discovered the world of sugar daddy!Joel Miller and well what can I say I am HOOKED!

After reading Take Care of You by TheSarcasticKnight well I need more Sugar Daddy Joel in my life! (AMAZING fic btw suggest everyone reads it)

So does anyone have any Sugar Daddy Joel fic recommendations etc? I will literally take anything

Thank you wonderful people of tumblr❤️❤️

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

I was inspired and went overboard. 👀

SugarDaddy!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings: Joel is a sugar daddy who is determined to take care of you always, mentions of anxiety, inaccurate car troubles (i know a pedal makes it go and a different pedal makes it stop), fluff, also i did not proofread this at all, it's past midnight and i'm tired so there are probably mistakes lol, but I had to pump this out immediately

Word Count: Uh, i didn't count, 1000 maybe?

THIS IS NOT CANON TO MY 'TAKE CARE OF YOU' SERIES IT'S JUST SEPARATE SUGAR DADDY JOEL FLUFF.

You rested your forehead on the steering wheel and blew out a frustrated breath of air. The other cars whizzing past you on the road only increased your anxiety as each passing car seemed to make yours shake. You were convinced that you had the worst luck in the world with cars⏤ it couldn’t be a coincidence that yours had broken down for the third time. The phone in your cup holder suddenly began to rattle and vibrate and you jumped in alarm. 

Quickly, you scrambled to grab it only to see Joel’s face lit up on your screen. It was a picture you had snapped at dinner one night while he was in the process of speaking to the waiter. His side profile made you damn near feral for the man. 

Your finger hovered over to answer it, but panic slammed into you. Your anxiety took hold and suddenly you felt shaky as tears collected in your eyes. You denied the call and set the phone down. Joel had already threatened to buy you a brand new car and it made you feel so needy and awkward. You knew he wanted to take care of you, but a car seemed like way too much. It was why you hadn’t mentioned the second time it broke down and why you planned to never mention this episode.

Fate was not on your side as seconds later Joel was calling again. 

You cleared your throat and answered it as normally as you could, “Joel! Hey!”

“Hey, sugar.” His voice, like warm honey, managed to calm your anxiety unintentionally. “What’re you up to today?”

“Ummm….” You dragged the word out. “Nothing?”

Joel hummed, “Wanna meet up for lunch?”

“Yes, but, uh,” You swallowed the nervous energy trying to claw it’s way up your throat, “I⏤”

Joel interrupted you, “Hey. Talk to me.” His grew more serious. You felt your bottom lip quiver and it made you feel even worse about the situation. Suddenly, a softness creeped into his voice. “What’s goin’ on, sugar? You alright?”

“My⏤ My car broke down again.” You murmured and rubbed at your face. “It just suddenly made this noise and I couldn’t⏤”

He blurted your name breaking your train of thought, “Are you safe??”

“Yes.” You nodded as if he could see you. “The brakes worked it just wouldn’t go fast anymore and it started slowing down so I drifted off to the side of the road.”

“Good girl. I’m glad you’re safe.” He said. “Text me your location.”

You figured the jig was up and there was no stopping Joel at this point. You pulled the phone away from your ear to send him your exact location. Joel stayed on the phone with you and begun to tell you a story about how Tommy had embarrassed himself in a meeting this morning by mixing up the wrong companies. You chuckled and just rested your head on the steering wheel again to listen to his soothing voice.

“I’m here, but stay in your car.” Joel said suddenly.

You picked your head up and saw a nice, blue sedan parked behind you. Joel was jumping out of the passenger seat, but your eyes spotted Tommy sitting behind the wheel. He lifted his hand to give you a sheepish wave. All attention was torn from the younger Miller brother when Joel reached your driver door and pulled it open.

“Oh, baby.” Joel grasped your hand and pulled you out and into his chest. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest. Suddenly, any anxiety you felt seemed to roll right off your back. Nothing could cause you any amount of harm when you were in Joel’s arms. He pulled back just enough to set a kiss on your forehead and analyze your features for injuries. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, “I’m so sorry, Joel. I⏤”

“Hey, don’t apologize.” Joel pulled you back into his arms. “None of this was your fault. Shit like this happens.” He rubbed your back. “I gotcha, baby. C’mon.”

Joel reached around you to grab your keys and purse, your phone was already in your hand, and then he shut the driver’s door. He walked you towards Tommy’s car and he was careful to tuck you into his side away from the passing traffic. You glanced at Tommy then looked back to Joel with a small smile, “Did you tell that embarrassing story about Tommy while making him drive you here?”

“He’ll survive. Kid has embarrassed himself on his own plenty.” Joel kissed the side of your head.

He opened the passenger side door and Tommy greeted you with a smile. You were surprised when Joel settled you into the passenger seat with your purse but kept your keys in his hand. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “What are you doing? Aren’t we just gonna call a tow truck?”

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, sugar.” Joel gave you a soft smile and pinched your chin between his fingers. “I’m gonna take care of this.”

“Take care of me?” You teased.

Joel chuckled, “You know the deal.”

Tommy set a hand on the back of your seat so he could lean across the median and smirk at his brother, “Aw, you’re adorable. I’ve never seen you so precious before.”

“Shut the hell up.” Joel pointed at his brother. “Do what I told you to do for once in your life.”

“Hey, do you remember when my car broke down and you told me to fuck off?” Tommy asked.

“Don’t make me say it to you again, Tommy.”

You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at the brother’s interaction. It was oddly reassuring. Joel pressed another kiss to your temple, reached across to click your seat belt in place, then closed the door. He walked back to your car. You sunk in the seat with a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks for your help, Tommy.” You said. 

“That’s nice of you to say since I know my brother ain’t gonna.” Tommy chuckled.

“If you could just take me back  to my place. I can give you the address.”

“Oh, no.” Tommy shook his head and pulled into the flow of traffic when he was able. “Joel gave me strict instructions on what I’m supposed to be doing right now.” You quirked an eyebrow at him curiously, but Tommy made the joking gesture of zipping his lips. He followed the gesture by talking more, “So, what have you been up to lately? Other than breaking down on the side of the road, that is.”

You rolled your eyes in good nature and the two of you talked about nothing in particular as Tommy drove you to some unknown location. Ten minutes passed before Tommy pulled into a familiar nail salon. It was the one you usually visited with Nima. 

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” Tommy asked as you opened the door.

“Absolutely. Thanks again. I really appreciate your help.”

“Always.” Tommy gave you a playful wink before pulling out of the parking lot.

You walked into the nail salon content to wait here for whatever else Joel was doing, but the second you stepped into the building a screaming blue of pink slammed into you⏤ pulling you into a tight hug. Nima was squeezing you as if her life depended on it, “Oh my God! Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine.” You laughed and pulled away from her. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Joel called me and got me out early.” Nima grabbed your hand and dragged you back towards where she left her stuff in a seat. “As it turns out, if Joel Miller of Miller Construction calls the office to get someone off work nobody questions it.” You dropped down into the seat next to Nima and she picked up a coffee cup with your usual order in it before picking up her own. “I was gonna order you that drink we got last time, but your sugar daddy told me you were drinking this lately.”

You took a sip of the coffee and melted into your seat. Joel was incredible and you never doubted that, but moments like this made you wonder if you were delusional or in some coma dream. Because honestly you didn’t know a man could be so perfect.

“Thanks for coming.” You reached out to squeeze Nima’s hand as some of the nail techs drifted over.

“You can thank me by introducing me to one of Joel’s rich friends.” Nima leaned back in her seat. “I want a hot sugar mommy with a heart of gold who will love me unconditionally and take care of me.”

Your face burned in embarrassment and you quickly shook your head, “He doesn't love me.” Nima shot you a dry look and you repeated yourself. “He doesn’t!”

The two of you had hardly talked about anything like that. Nima didn’t argue further as she quickly fell into talking about an upcoming date that she had. The two of you got manicures and pedicures, and they let you sit in the chairs a little while longer just to relax. Something you thought Joel had to have played a part in. Nima was in the middle of a story when she paused and a smug smile grew on her features.

“What?” You asked.

“Daddy’s here.” Nima teased. You glanced over your shoulder to see Joel’s broad form step into the nail place. His eyes landed on you and he gave you a soft smile. When you looked back to Nima, she was already waving you away. “Go, go. Text me later though.”

“I will.” You replied and slid your shoes back on before hurrying over. As soon as you got close enough your hand found his and you grinned at him. “Thank you so⏤”

Joel squeezed your hand with furrowed brow as he pulled you out of the building, “What have I said about thankin’ me for stuff like this?”

“To not to.” You twisted your lips in amusement. Your eyes glanced over the parking lot and you spotted Joel’s truck, but you didn’t see your car. “So, where is my car?”

“Your place.” Joel answered. You raised your eyebrows. That seemed pretty quick for repairs.  Joel shook his head. “I had the tow truck take it out to your place, and I have a team going to the car to fix it. They’ll get everything fixed up in a few hours.” You felt your heart soften and your eyes stung with unshed tears you refused to let fall. Joel lifted his hand to kiss the back of yours. “All you gotta do is spend the next few hours with me while they work.”

You set your freehand on the side of your face to try and chase away the warmth in your cheeks, “I think I can manage that much. Thanks, Joel.”

Joel tugged you to a stop and leaned in to press a kiss to the side of your head and whisper, “If you’re gonna thank me at least do it right, sugar.”

He pulled back to meet your gaze and his hand lifted to pinch your chin again. His thumb tracing a lazy line back and forth where it could reach. You bit your lower lip briefly in a poor attempt to control your widening grin, “Thank you, daddy.”

“Good girl.” Joel hummed in approval before moving toward his truck with you.

Me: *financially independent and uncomfortable accepting monetary help*

Also me: *fiercely anti-captalist and anti-rich people*

Still me: *staring wistfully at @theidiotwhowritesthings's sugar daddy!Joel Miller AU* I want one

[prettyinpunk85]

Help. Someone hear me out. I’ve had this dream about Joel Miller a couple of different ways. I need to get it out of my head. I wish I were a better writer, but I don’t think I’d actually do a good job. Does anyone write for stalker!Joel and/or Sugar Daddy! Joel??

[punkshort]

I'm about to drop another masterlist for yet another series I probably don't have time for but, what the hell, as they say!

Blame this anon for giving me horrendous brain rot this week.

[pedroshotwifey]

Sugar Daddy Joel 4th of July fic coming soon

Keep your eyes out! 👀

[gutsby]

Wants and Needs

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Joel x Reader

Summary: Bills are high; your dad’s boss wants to help. How you pay him stays between you and him—for now.

Warnings: 18+. Protected piv. Explicit power imbalance in an exchange of sex for money, so dubcon, technically. Soft dom!Joel. Sex toys. Squirting. Oral (f!receiving). Overstimulation. Daddy kink. Age gap. Praise kink.

Note: Bohanan’s is a steakhouse in San Antonio, TX.

Word count: 8.4k

You wanted a car. Joel needed to cum.

It wasn’t the arrangement a girl your age should’ve made, but what could you do? Your dad drank half of your college funds away, and your mom was long gone.

The next best thing was Mr. Miller, your father’s boss. He’d understood better than anyone what money could buy. What it might do. For him, it was pleasure. For you, it was a future—or what little remained after bills and loans and exorbitantly-priced car repairs bled you dry.

You took the job at the firm on a whim. You didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore, though your dad and Joel were. You didn’t want to be done with law school, though 3L had already long since ended, and that dreaded so-called ‘minimum competency’ test was drawing close on the horizon. In short, you couldn’t afford to pay for bar prep.

With Joel, you could.

It was true that tax law paid pretty well, but a part-time job would never really be enough when your family was treading water at all times. Your dad liked to gamble and drink, and your brothers got all of their brains from him.

You got the short end of the stick, plus the receiving end of another. Lucky for you, Joel’s felt pretty good going in.

Today you were somewhere south of Austin. Your truck wouldn’t start last week, so you’d agreed to come along on this business trip knowing full well what you planned on asking your boss as soon as you had a moment alone.

“CDP hearing at…9:45.” You checked the itinerary twice.

“Alright.” Joel nodded.

“Lunch with Javier, Ezra, and Dave at twelve.”

“Mhmm.”

“Phone call with Revenue Officer Acacius at 3:30.”

“For the…?”

“Martells.”

“Okay.”

“I finished Lucien Flores’ Form 433-F for your review and left notes—” You stopped to tap your finger on a short white pile of papers between you and Joel on the desk, “—in the margins. Still need bank statements from him.”

“Lovely.”

Joel eyed the stack at first, but his gaze strayed a little.

“You should probably plan to talk strategy with my dad before Mayor Garcia’s audit tomorrow, too. Looks like a couple non-cash contributions are being disputed now.”

For a second, your eyes flitted up to him, too. It was brief.

“Sure. When’s your daddy free?” he said.

You blinked, then scanned the schedule.

“Looks like five…or six, maybe. He’s got a consult with—”

“I wasn’t talking about your father.”

You looked back up. Joel was smirking, of course. His hand had drifted a comfortable, innocent distance past the papers and across the table, to you. The pair of you happened to be in one of the glass-paneled conference rooms nearest the hotel lobby, so he had to be discreet.

He never let his fingers stray too long on yours in public. Presently, his thumb grazed your knuckles extra slow.

Posing a question, maybe.

You didn’t have the time to be tactful now, unfortunately.

“I need $2,700.”

Joel, your boss, your daddy, whatever, had to pause at that. He didn’t move his hand immediately, but he did stare harder. Longer. He searched your face for the joke.

“$2,700?” he repeated.

“Yes sir,” you answered out of habit, wincing only a little, “My truck stopped running last week, and it’s just…a lot.”

The cost. For Joel, it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket, but in your world, it was a make-or-break, fuck-your-whole-budget-for-the-next-six-months kind of bad. Suddenly, your cheeks felt warmer than they did before, and you forced yourself to look away. Peering out across the wide and gently rolling terrain of San Antonio and trying to pretend there was something thrilling to see. You’d almost forgotten how much you hated asking this.

“I can make the deposit tonight—” Joel started.

“No,” you interrupted. You wanted to turn but couldn’t. You just shook your head and kept staring out there, “Not now, I mean…I need to earn it over time, I just…”

You stumbled over the words. It was like your lips, your tongue, and your teeth were all suffering from the same sort of embarrassment pervading the brain, and you couldn’t bring your mouth to form the sentences right.

I’m not asking for a handout. I need to earn the money.

However ‘earning’ may have been grossly misconstrued in the context, it was a labor all the same. You didn’t love it, but you didn’t hate him, either. Joel was nice, albeit old enough to be your father, and it didn’t seem that he was nearly as predatory or perverse as he could’ve been. You’d been working for him for two months now, and the idea had been your own when the cash had gotten tight.

Back in April, you’d explained to him, calmly, that you couldn’t take the bar exam unless you got some extra money quick. That you wouldn’t accept his charity, but you’d pay him back in other ways. Joel had been against it at first—you were the daughter of his best friend, after all—but eventually, his carnal needs won out over his sense, as every other man would’ve done, you guessed.

At first, you’d started slow, but that hadn’t lasted very long. You fucked him regularly now, though never had you asked for an amount of cash this big out of nowhere.

Joel blinked and put a hand on his hip, like he always did when he wasn’t sure what to say. The silver in his soft, dark locks shone more in this light. He’d lost the smirk.

“You’ve done…plenty.” Now sounding sheepish.

You tried to protest again; Joel stopped you.

“I mean it. Hey, look at me,” he said next.

You did, hesitatingly. You turned from the window, and out of instinct, folded your arms over your chest. Joel paced closer to you and then he was watching. Pausing.

Brushing your arm with his and glancing once over your shoulder to make sure no one else was around to see.

He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

When he pulled away, your skin was practically ablaze.

“Mr. Miller—”

“Joel,” he corrected, quiet, “And you’ve done enough. Let me cover the car just this once, okay? Sweetheart?”

You didn’t realize you were pivoting again. That your gut was doing somersaults and your heart was ready to climb up and out of your throat. Your neck was burning.

It wasn’t even anger you sensed was simmering under the skin until you turned back to him, and your eyes flashed with ire before the words were even spoken.

“I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller. I said I want to pay.”

“It’s Joel. And I said you’ve done enough, so—”

Ire morphed to something more in a blink.

You didn’t mean to say it, but you did.

“Fine,” you huffed, suddenly exasperated, “If you’re so fucking opposed to me paying my way for this one simple thing, I’ll get another guy. Forget I asked.”

It was a low blow, for sure. Joel knew how badly you’d wanted this to stay between just you and him—and he would never dream of seeing you ‘earning your keep’ with anyone else. His expression said as much as soon as he’d heard your words; his whole face hardened at once.

But then you’d turned to leave. You didn’t care what he wanted to tell you, and if you did, you certainly weren’t brave enough to stick around to hear Joel say it then.

So you left. He had a full, busy day ahead of him anyway.

You woke up wet.

In an effort to avoid your boss, you’d run errands all day. Buried your nose in a sea of Civil Procedure notes as soon as you got a second alone, almost vomited seeing the Erie Doctrine, and went back to your hotel room to try and study there. Once you had, you napped instead.

Now your clothes stuck to your skin; the sheets around you were soaked. You peered over the big white duvet holding your body interred and saw smoke overhead.

Or steam.

Yes, definitely steam. It was drifting from the bathroom, where the door was thrown open. You shifted up to sit.

“Tess!” you yelled, “Shut the goddamn door, I’m boiling.”

As a law clerk, you weren’t afforded the luxury of a suite to yourself, so you shared it with the other new grads on work trips like these. Tess Servopoulos loved long, hot showers and never closed the fucking door. You groaned.

And, feeling depleted of all energy from your studies and the stress and the steam searing every inch of your skin, you flopped back in the bed. You kicked the covers off your legs. You’d just lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from your forehead, when an awful, fresh realization dawned.

You glanced at the clock—3:37.

“Fucking hell,” you hissed.

You were supposed to meet your dad at two to get some paperwork signed. You needed to have that filed with the court by four. He was probably engaged somewhere else by now, whether it be a client, a conference, or a couple white lines in the bathroom of a partners-only club downtown, and you wouldn’t have a hope of reaching him here. You rubbed your face and groaned again.

You’d set an alarm for 1:30—you knew you had.

Where the hell was your phone? Why was it so warm? What if he’d called? Aw fuck, he’s probably blown that thing up to hell and back by now. Maybe he was drunk. He had to be. Where was Tess? Where were your pants?

You’d made it up to your feet, clumsily, and faced a full-length mirror. Your bottoms were gone. You closed your eyes and screamed inside, remembering why they were.

“Glad you’re getting some use out of this.”

The second you heard it, your lids flew open. You turned.

And, standing in the warm yellow glow of the bathroom light—holding the culprit, your vibrator, like a prize—was Joel. Naked as the day he was born, save for one thin towel around his hips, and grinning. Moisture glistened on his chest and pooled about his feet, and his hair was smooth, tamed, and combed back neatly from his face.

He waved your silicone toy in the air, and immediately, you regretted giving him your room key the other day.

“I thought we agreed you’d wait for me—”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Your voice was thick with sleep. Joel’s own was slow, dulcet, and kind as it always was, even when teasing. When you grit your teeth, he just set the toy aside.

“I’m sorry. Bad timing. I saw your—”

“No.” You threw up both hands at once, suddenly out of breath and fucks to give, “You know what? I don’t care. You need to go. I have to be down at the courthouse—”

In twenty minutes. You cut yourself short and hurried off to find shoes. You could wear other pants. Ask another attorney to sign the forms if you couldn’t reach your dad. Forget that his boss and yours had just caught you with the vibrator he’d bought you last month and try not to feel too humiliated knowing he knew what you’d been doing. It didn’t matter—Joel didn’t matter. You slid on a mismatched pair of slacks and set off toward the door.

Then you had to stop. Joel beat you there, quick as ever.

“Listen. Hey.”

“Will you stop?!”

You pushed at his big and wet, stupidly broad chest. You felt the small grey hairs on his pecs tickle your palms, and for a second, you thought you heard a chuckle.

“You’re gonna make me late—”

“Hey, hey,” Joel said again. Of course it sounded fatherly, “I already signed the POA for Morales, hon, you’re good.”

You’re good.

“You what?” You stared at him in disbelief. How did he even know you needed Frankie’s power of attorney signed in the first place? You figured your dad would’ve mentioned it, but still, it wasn’t really Joel’s form to sign.

“The case is mine now,” he clarified, reading that look, “Wasn’t my first pick, but it is what it is. And your dad—”

Your dad was probably lagging wildly behind on his own caseload, so he’d pushed one off on his friend. Again.

“You can’t keep picking up his slack,” you gritted out, “One of these days it’s gonna bite you both in the ass. You know he shouldn’t be forcing these jobs on you.”

“I offered.”

“You caved.”

“He’s my best friend, what do you expect me to do?”

“Not let him use you! He’s making you feel bad for him.”

“And what if I did? What if I did pity the bastard?”

You scoffed. Then winced, inwardly.

I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller.

From the look on Joel’s face, he seemed to be remembering the same. He shook his head.

“That’s not…” he trailed off. He rubbed his jaw with his hand and started to move from the door, deflating some.

His other arm extended to you, wordlessly, and already anticipated what was sure to follow. You swatted him off, then walked to the bed. You considered sitting but didn’t. Instead, you crossed your arms like you always did and turned away, facing the window with a cool, flat affect.

By now, Joel knew better than to take that for what it seemed. He crossed the room to you, treading softly.

His voice turned gentle again, like an apology: “Honey…”

But your gaze was already fixed outside. You frowned.

“Darlin’,” Joel continued, undeterred, “Come on.”

And you didn’t need to see his face to hear the rest: ‘Look at me, please,’ with eyes all comfort and warmth.

“Don’t you have a phone call with an R.O. or something?” Briefly, you recalled Acacius and a stream of other items from the checklist you’d covered that morning, and you had to stop yourself then from straying too far. You blinked once, just as Joel was approaching from behind.

“I cancelled,” he said.

You sighed, “Mr. Miller…”

You knew he hated doing that.

“Joel,” he pressed. Adding, “Something came up.”

You wouldn’t even ask. You shouldn’t care. You felt him standing there, fanning hot breaths across the nape of your neck, and you really couldn’t have taken that worse. You visibly tensed, hands balling into fists at your sides, and—hell, he wouldn’t quit moving now, would he?—Joel bent down. He hesitated, as if gauging your reaction in time, then descended further. He kissed your shoulder.

You cracked; it never took much from him.

For all your inane, ancillary plays at feigning indifference, one movement of Joel’s mouth and your resolve was lost. You clung to words, weakly, but all the rest fell away.

“We don’t…want your charity. Me or my dad. Alright?”

“I know.”

Joel kissed your skin again, then pulled at the strap of your blouse. It fell limply away, and his lips reattached.

Exactly when he’d walked you back to the bed, you couldn’t be sure. By the third or fourth kiss, your stomach was tight, knees weak, and your eyes drawing closed; it didn’t matter to you or to him what had passed before. Your bodies found the bed and blended together.

Tangling, in a way. Tearing blindly at clothes and not saying too much apart from Joel’s soft, sweet words:

“That’s it.”

“I know.”

“Good girl.”

Good girl when he kissed you. Good girl when he stripped you bare. Good girl when his hands roamed the broad, naked expanse of your body and let your own do the same to him. Good girl when your fingers hooked the outline of the towel and tugged it away, your vision filled with a sight you’d come to like more and more each day.

“That’s my girl,” Joel murmured. He cradled your head while you gripped his base, “‘S’yours, baby. All yours.”

Yours. Mine. You weren’t sure you had the sense or self-possession to even know what that meant, especially here. Joel wasn’t a boyfriend. He wasn’t a lover, at least not in the traditional sense. He wore dark wool suits like your father and worked from dawn until dusk every day, practicing law for longer than you’d been alive. Still, the smile above you was sweet. It coaxed you gently as you slid your hand up and down his length, like he sensed this was more like a lesson for you. Learning experience.

“Remember, spit a little first,” he instructed. Then, to demonstrate this point, he brought his fingers to his mouth and wet them quickly. He slipped his touch down to yours and met your gaze while he joined you there.

He rubbed and slicked himself up and he did it with ease. You followed his lead and watched his face contort—crow’s feet pinching even tighter at the sides of his eyes as pleasure began to pool in his gut. He looked pretty. You’d never thought to tell him this, but Joel really had an unparalleled face. It was an old and beautiful thing. For this reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away, maybe to wet your own fingers. Instead, you slipped your hand between your legs, where his hips had come to rest. You worked a slow, light touch against your folds; you were drenched, and it didn’t take long for your fingers to be, too. You moved them back to Joel’s cock.

“Like this?” you ventured.

The man answered with a grunt, at first. Then a grin.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Joel nodded, quiet but emphatic. Trying not to smile too big as he let your touch take over for his, “Just like that, sweet pea. Get it nice an’ wet for daddy.”

You wanted to whimper at that. Something must’ve flashed in your eyes at the intonation of the last word, and the look must’ve suffused your whole expression, because the next thing you knew, Joel was lowering his body to yours. Petting your hair, letting you rub on his shaft as fast as your soft, lithe hands could manage.

“Feel that, baby? Feel how much daddy missed you?”

You did.

Your brow pinched, and you wanted more of that. More from him: those tender, edifying words of praise being mumbled your way while your touch worked him over. Maybe you could’ve helped it, but then again, in this state, maybe you couldn’t—you whimpered for him.

Wriggling your hips against the bed to get your warmth pressed flush with his own, and squeezing him tighter:

“In me, daddy. Please.”

You angled his cock in your trembling grip to plead as much. You knew he liked being the one to push in the first time, so you didn’t move too far with that push, but you begged him with your gaze. You felt him tense a bit.

And just when you sensed he might let you have your way, he moved off. Down. Sliding his torso away from your own, to go lower on the bed, and smirking again.

“I think she needs my tongue first, doesn’t she?”

You wanted to nod. Instead, you flinched. You crawled away from his hold before it could secure itself firmly on either one of your legs, and you had to snag your bottom lip between your teeth to contain that blossoming need. It almost spilled from your mouth in a moan before Joel’s could reach your lower half. Then you scrambled to sit up

“No,” you choked out.

This wasn’t new. While you shook your head, Joel lifted a brow and stood from the bed. He reached behind him.

The night stand.

You closed your eyes.

“This isn’t…supposed to be for me.” you sighed.

In a second, Joel was back where he started, and you didn’t have to steal a glance through your lids to know what he was holding. Slotting himself gently into place.

“Don’t,” he started, sharp, “—say that. I mean it.”

You knew he meant it, but you also knew better than to accept at face value what he said, moving down on you.

This wasn’t part of the deal. Joel’s money was meant to serve his pleasure, not yours. Letting him take you any other way seemed to blur the lines between transaction and affection, and though you’d done this before, it still didn’t feel right. You couldn’t bear having his focus here.

Evidently, though, he could. He’d snatched your vibrator from the night table and lowered his torso to your legs, lips twitching the tiniest bit. ‘Open up. Let me see her.’

Joel was on his stomach, eyes glowing with intrigue.

“Let me see how much she’s missed me, baby.”

The grey matter in your brain might’ve trickled through your ears—the whole thing went to mush at his words. You pushed at his hands, then the top of his head, but clearly, your will was weak. You wanted this. Needed it.

“That’s a good girl. Let daddy have it,” Joel drawled.

You wanted to cry. Or maybe hide. His index and middle fingers prodded at your folds, pulling them apart, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you’d stopped breathing. Joel kissed the slope of your mound with a quiet kind of reverence. The salt-and-pepper stubble on his chin brushed your clit, and your back arched reflexively. Then, remembering why you’d come to this arrangement in the first place, you felt a wave of guilt supplant that pleasure.

You clawed at his head and shook your own, weakly.

“No. W-wanna make you feel good,” you choked out.

Not me.

Not here.

Just let it—

“Fuck,” you keened through your teeth. Joel’s lips made contact with your slick, drooling cunt and, in a second, sucked your nub in between them. He flicked his tongue.

Joel groaned, then pulled away to meet your gaze.

“Feels plenty good f’me,” he assured you in a murmur. Eyes glossy, “She’s so fuckin’ sweet, honey. So pretty.”

Then, as if to punctuate his point, he slid his tongue down the whole wet mess of your slit, and he moaned. He curled the muscle and invaded your sticky, sensitive, precious warm flesh with vigor and force—maybe a little desperation—and you whined at the feeling. Your toes curled tight. It was doubtlessly a sight to see: Joel’s old and weathered head against your young and supple skin, the wiry greys of his chin rubbing your cunt like no man’s his age should’ve been. He took you gently. Forked his fingers over your folds to hold you open for him and then, over and over and over again, just licking stripes. Squelching noises only seemed to goad him on while he buried his nose and savored your taste without reserve. Your stomach clenched with that pleasure, then swelled.

“That’s my girl—so good for me,” Joel said, as though reminding you, gently, it was okay to relish the feeling.

Once more, he suckled your clit in his mouth, rubbing the tip of his tongue in a quick back-and-forth motion, and the next sensation hit without a breath of warning.

Your belly twisted again, then flushed with hot pleasure.

“My— fuck,” you cried, shuddering with a climax you didn’t know was coming. You held his head and whined.

Joel’s tongue didn’t stop. Your vision blurred. Whatever reprieve you might’ve hoped to find came in the form of his lips drawing back, momentarily, only to sponge little kisses on your still-pulsing heat. Your body jolted back.

“I c— I’m done. I’m done,” you blurted out.

Joel nodded against you. Humming through his kisses:

“I know. Keep going.”

Keep going.

So simple.

Still, you couldn’t breathe. Your sight was inundated with stars. You felt Joel’s stubble on your slit again, only this time, the pleasure was tripled. Your legs trembled, and your hands made fists in his hair. Joel kept on kissing.

And kissed again, again, and again, until your fingers in his locks pulled taut to the roots and your hips were bucking up in his face: ‘Too much, t—oh fuckfuckfuck.’

Then came a buzz. Skirting your legs in a blink, before diving to meet Joel’s mouth on your clit. You shrieked.

“I know, I know,” Joel joined, as though soothing a wound while he maneuvered the vibrator. Lifting his head and then kissing your thigh, “I know. You’re alright.”

You wanted to sob; you felt ready to burst. You trusted Joel’s judgment but had never been subjected to this sort of pleasure. What if it was more than you could take?

“I’m here.”

Joel’s words were slow to crawl off his tongue, but their intent was clear. You writhed once more, and he was kissing your skin, rubbing your thighs, and taking the toy to your clit with a warm, devoted touch. He wasn’t cruel.

He had a glint in his gaze when you met it, like he knew you wouldn’t accept this feeling alone—but he wanted you to. He wanted the indulgence to be your own and an end in itself. There was care in his touch, tender praise with every caress, and you guessed this was intentional. Joel needed you to know this was more than only his.

You felt more naked than you’d ever been: soaking the sheets with your last release, fresh arousal trickling out, Joel’s spit mixing with your nectar and sweat and pressing you down in the bed. And nudging you, gently.

“‘S’okay, baby. You’re alright. That feels nice, doesn’t i—”

“Kiss me.”

It came out faster than you could even try and stop it. You weren’t sure why you said it. The words were acerbic on your tongue—you hated ever sounding needy—but then your mind and your mouth and your worries were all silenced at once when Joel came clambering up for you.

His lips were wet and grinning as he kissed you. He held the vibrator hostage between your legs while his body pressed tight against yours. His movements slowed.

Then, as if he’d crawled in your head and read your mind:

“It’s okay to need me, baby. It’s okay to want this.”

His hips made that assurance even clearer. Joel reached down and took the vibrator again, increasing the friction between your groin and his while he pressed the buzzing toy to your clit. You whined into his mouth at the feeling.

Your eyes rolled back, and the pleasure soared. This morning, you might’ve bristled at the words he’d just spoken, but here, in this bed, it felt okay. It felt safe.

Joel felt safe, for once, and you weren’t sure how to keep that idea from sticking—how to reconcile the notion of swapping sex for cash with a man for months on end, and then this. Your stomach churned. He held your face and kissed you more, and your clit throbbed and ached. Before you could ponder your thoughts a second longer, a white-hot pleasure washed over, and you came again.

“Good girl,” Joel cooed.

Throbbing even more this time.

“That’s a sweet girl. That’s my baby.”

All but aching with desire. Feeling it double.

“Cum for daddy, that’s it. Keep going.”

Feeling it trickle down your legs.

“She’s feelin’ real good, huh?”

You could barely breathe.

You whined. Felt something splinter between your thighs and then more of it, more of you and that slick, oozing pleasure and Joel’s groans, overjoyed—‘Making a fucking mess’a daddy, isn’t she? She feel that good?’—and by ‘that good’ you guessed it was more than normal.

This was more warmth than usual. Somewhere in the midst of your own mind-numbing pleasure, you’d let out a spurt, sticky and wet. It now coated the hairs on Joel’s tummy, and while his skin shone, his eyes were brighter. He flitted a look to you, gaze flaring, and slid down. Low.

Back to where he was before. Moving the buzzing pink bullet aside and letting his mouth assume its place.

Of course, you yelped.

“Joel!”

You winced, both from saying his name and feeling so raw. Joel grinned at the sound and suckled your clit.

It was drenched. You and Joel, too, were doused all over and practically gleaming under the rays of late afternoon sun then pouring through the window. For a second, you cast a look outside like you had before, but it was only to brace your body for the bliss at hand. You stared and felt a crude, carnal shockwave seize you head to toe. It traveled fast and made you release, again, or else just continue the same flow as before—and this time, into Joel’s waiting mouth. He lapped at you feverishly now.

He squeezed your legs and licked you dry. He worked in merciless circles, like his life might have depended on making you stay at this peak. All the while, you were tearing at his hair. Riding his face as your body fell apart.

That was alright. This pleasure was yours for now, but there was still time yet to make it worth his while, you reasoned in a half-intoxicated state. Your legs vibrated as you started to crawl—limp—back up in the bed and, numb with elation and a desperate need to please, you stretched your arm toward the night stand. You huffed.

You reached blindly but got it. The box. Weak fingers found the first plastic strip and tore yourself a square. Then, lifting it to Joel, you ignored the last stabs of pleasure between your legs. This was fun, but still his.

“Go on,” you told him, breathless, “Fuck me.”

Joel quirked a brow. He took the condom, still panting himself. He brought the latex to his tip out of habit, then:

“Yeah? Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

Your head was swimming. Somewhere entrenched in the furthest recesses of your brain you could feel it, that dizzying, self-centered pleasure. You pushed it back.

You suffocated it, and you spread your legs wide for him. You let him lay you down and tug the rubber over his cock, then nudge at your hips to situate himself in just the right way. How he liked it. He seemed to be content, and your heart swelled. In this airy, buoyant state, you felt more at ease to speak, sure that he’d understand.

“This should cover some of it, right?” you panted out.

Joel slowed.

“What?”

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eager to keep going. But you steeled yourself, just barely, then.

“Sex. Now,” you said, “It’ll cover some of my car repairs.”

Instead of nodding like you’d expected, Joel only blinked. Then you opened your mouth to speak again, and his body stopped you cold. He planted a hand beside your head on the pillow and raised his hips; you felt his heat leave with it. You reached for his backside immediately, to try and pull him back into that pre-missionary position he’d held, when Joel brushed you off. His face was hard.

“Money?” he quipped.

“Yeah,” you started, then remembered how you talked outside of the bedroom, when he seemed more serious, “We’ll go again. All week. You can even put it in my—”

Joel balked, like you’d just slapped him across the face.

“No,” he said, sharp.

“No,” he repeated, more to himself this second time. Almost as though he couldn’t believe what you were suggesting—and making him guilty by association.

Joel clenched your pillow like a vice and shook his head.

“You’re not getting paid for this,” he finished, and when your gaze penetrated his, confused, he squeezed harder.

“Thought you wanted it.” Joel added, almost shamefully.

“I do! I do…I just—” you sputtered.

“What? Think you need to offer up a week and a half of fucking to make it worth my time? Is that what this is?”

Well, in a way, maybe.

You weren’t sure what to say. Former dizzying bliss was dwindling fast, and now you were facing him cold. Sober.

Increasingly irritated, again.

“I just need money, Mr. Miller—”

“It’s Joel, hon,” he bit back, for the fourth time that day. His eyes flared with something more, maybe annoyance, but then he was tempering it just as fast. He ran a hand through his damp grey hair and shook his head, pausing, “It��s Joel. I know you need the money, baby, but it’s—”

“It’s what we agreed,” you protested, “What I need—”

“Well it’s not what I want!” Joel barked.

Anger surged again, and this time, evidently, the feeling was harder to keep at bay. He was scarcely able to rein in his features, settling on a grave little scowl instead of a frown, and he sucked in shorter, shallower breaths through his nose. You felt him let your pillow go.

“Forget it—the cash.” Joel grit his teeth even tighter, “Forget these payments and the goddamn allowance I’ve had you on. I can’t do that anymore. It’s not right.”

Your heart sank.

You didn’t know what to say.

Luckily, Joel’s voice resumed on its own.

“Whatever you want, whatever you need, sweetheart…”

He stopped. Silence followed, then stretched on for one full, terrible minute. In that interim, you could see his chest rise and fall fast. He was trying to slow it down.

“Whatever you need paid off, I’ll do it. Anything. You don’t have to touch me again. It was wrong of me to allow that in the first place,” he rejoined, tone cooling.

Sounding guilty, too.

Above you, Joel didn’t seem keen on holding your gaze, so he fixed his stare someplace on the headboard instead. Then he moved off your body, slowly.

In spite of the distance he attempted to give, he was still crowding your space. Looming large and bare and weary as you’d ever seen him, knees shuffling back awkwardly through a mass of cotton sheets while his eyes shifted low. Away. The rest of him filled your lungs with a heady cologne scent and your stomach with a thousand tiny blades—you were hurt that he wasn’t sticking to his end of the bargain. You were mad that he was trying to claim the moral high ground now, after everything you’d done.

Mostly, though, you were just upset that you felt like you were losing someone close. That Joel Miller was more of a confidant, friend, and father figure than your own dad had ever been, and that got all fucked up over money. Your lips pursed, and something stung behind your eyes when you reached for him again. Your throat stung, too.

“The reason I agreed to do this,” Joel went on, and the ache in your head worsened when he winced from your touch, “was ‘cause I didn’t want you getting ‘help’ from anyone else. I was selfish. And that’s not an excuse…”

He started to move off, hand dropping from yours.

“…but it’s the truth. I’m sorry.”

At length, Joel found your gaze, and the eyes said it all over again: I’m sorry. You might’ve believed them, too.

But you were you, and you couldn’t help but press:

“Why?”

Your voice was small. Joel was trying to stand from the bed, but you grabbed at his hand again and made him meet your eyes. Confusion was painted across his own.

Kneeling in front of him, curious, you tried to clarify.

“Why’d it have to be you?”

Judging from Joel’s expression as soon as you did, you got the sense that this question made him feel dumb. He frowned, but he held your stare and answered anyway.

“Because I wanted you first,” he replied, “Before all this.”

Your stomach twisted. He did?

You didn’t need to ask twice to know what that meant. What he’d said, in words and with a look, was enough. Still, it was always in you to know more, to be sure, so you crept a little closer. You let your hands roam up and—

“No,” Joel said, as soon as your fingers reached his side.

You’d just wanted to feel him, maybe prod him further on what he’d just said through acts that didn’t require verbal articulation, but he refused. He backed up in bed.

“This isn’t about—” he started, low.

“Sex. I know,” you answered for him. Then your touch grazed his thigh, and you were dying to have more. To be told in a way you both knew and understood. To touch, “You want me to believe you really…liked me before?”

“More than you know.”

There was that blunt, open pragmatism in the Joel you’d always known. Perhaps guided by natural inclinations, or else your hand on his leg, drawing higher. Moving closer.

Showing skepticism through your eyes and the hint of a playful, disbelieving smile starting to curl at your lips.

“When you met me?” you teased.

You’d known of Joel for years, and had met him a couple times as a teenager at various firm holiday functions. You probably hadn’t exchanged more than ten words altogether before starting law school a few years back.

“Hell no,” Joel answered, fast, “When you started work.”

His gaze was timid again. It was fixed on his thigh where you’d started to slide your index up the warm, muscled expanse of his skin, and though you could tell he was more than hesitant, you wanted to know. Wanted to feel.

It wasn’t so easy convincing a man you’d been working for—and fucking, largely without feeling—to pay bills that you wanted him here and now. But you needed to try.

That maybe, somewhere along the way, you’d come to want him, too. That cash wasn’t the only thing at stake.

You crawled between his legs, then straddled his hips.

Your lips smiling still as you did: “How much?”

Joel blinked back. Dazed.

“What do you m—”

“How much did you like me? When did it start?”

Joel sighed when your heat rubbed his. He tried grabbing ahold of your hips, when you glanced down and saw he’d already discarded the last condom. You couldn’t have that if you wanted to continue this talk.

You reached back and grabbed another.

“Darlin’,” Joel said, strained, “We shouldn’t…”

“Says who?”

You’d already worked the rubber halfway down his length when his heavy-lidded gaze locked with yours. You saw lust there, mixed with worry. Curiosity. You kept going.

“Says your dad, if he ever finds out what I’ve done to his little girl,” Joel replied, closing his eyes at the feeling.

You had the latex worked down to the base of him when you smiled. Felt him seize your hips, lids fluttering open to find you in their soft, glossy stare, and you felt better. Like clockwork, you went together and joined, at last. You felt Joel squeeze your backside and groan when you first sank down to take him whole. You shuddered, too.

But you tried to steady your voice as you spoke.

“Semantics, Miller,” you told him, only faltering a little, “Things you are ‘doing’ to his little girl. Not just ‘done.’”

There, you had a point. Surely your father would have had some choice words for his business partner and best friend if he knew how far Joel’s cock was currently stuffed inside your tight, wet cunt. It might even piss him off, if he weren’t too drunk to receive the news himself.

Joel blinked hard, signaling that he knew this too, and presently watched your body swallow all eight inches at once, after you’d raised yourself up to just the tip and sank back. Your ass fell to his groin with an obscene sort of squelch, and your walls involuntarily clenched. You both let out sounds of pleasure, and held on tighter.

Your hands on his chest for stability, while one of his own held your hip and the other fumbled around for your clit, gliding through the sheen of your arousal on his front. You rocked your hips and felt how much it really was—how you’d drenched his whole abdomen with your last release. You smiled at this and stared, pleased with the pretty, sticky display you’d laid bare all over Joel’s belly.

When Joel wasn’t watching you ride, he stared there too.

“Not so ‘little’ anymore,” he mused quietly. Then he looked up to find your eyes, seeing them as glazed as his, “And I ‘like’ you, hon. Present tense. Not just…‘liked.’”

Alright.

“How much?”

You wanted to say it with some confidence. Nonchalance. Then Joel’s cock nicked a particularly sensitive ridge inside your walls, and that thought was gone as quick as it had come. You gripped the flesh of his upper chest and rolled your hips harder. Let out your breaths in little fractured whimpers while you rode him more. Another sweet feeling twisted low in your gut.

With just a glimpse of that, Joel moved his hand from your heat up past your hips and waist, to squeeze one of your breasts. His fingers were wet. You could feel them, equal parts warmth and wanton yearning as the pads pinched your nipple and gave it a firm tug. He grunted.

Clearly, there was more to it than just the touching and feeling for him—Joel’s eyes drank in the sight of your skin as it glistened with the arousal he’d just smeared. He thumbed at the wet, stiff peak and swallowed. And, just as you were about to adjust the rhythm of your hips bouncing on him, his free hand joined the first and pulled you down. You cried feeling his cock wedge deep; your hands fell to either side of his body when he yanked your face down to his. He fucked up into you from underneath

You squealed, soft, “Joel!”

He kissed your open mouth. Made you lay flat overtop him while he fucked your dripping hole. You whimpered.

“Joel—” Again.

“I like you so much, sweetheart,” he said, in answer to your last question, lips close, “Does she like me too?”

As if to save him the trouble of a swift reply in words, your body told him instead. You squeezed around his cock, and with another desperate cry, bit his shoulder. He hammered your poor, aching pussy with a groan of his own, and he held your body down to his. Grinning.

Kissing the side of your head while he pounded away. Stroking your hair, “Is that a ‘yes’? She like her daddy?”

Drool was bound to slip out of your mouth any second. Your lips were locked in a permanent ‘o’ while he drilled from under you on the bed. Still, you managed to nod.

“Uh-huh—oh, fuck, fuck, da-ddy. Yes, daddy.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as another blistering wave seared your insides. Joel was relentless with his thrusts now, driving himself in and out without stopping or slowing. He must’ve known you were close. He was too, judging by the sounds of his grunts and hushed tone.

“Let daddy take care of her then, baby. All of her. OK?”

His words trickled through your ear as sweet as honey. His cock was less kind, but that was okay—you liked it.

You loved him here. Taking care of you. Her. Everything.

And, in this half-coherent state of fuckdrunk pleasure, you were tempted to give in to whatever he begged.

It would be so easy. Joel cradled your face in his hand, practically beaming with pride while he fucked you over and over, and your legs were spread, walls were stretched, eyes practically rolling back, and you felt more secure than you’d been in ages. Joel could care for you.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek and hummed.

“Daddy’s got you,” he said, voice all warm assurance.

Nudging you closer and closer to your peak—and perhaps some other form of surrender. Release.

Submission?

Joel wouldn’t be so bad for that.

He could fuck you well and leave you content. Make you forget what it meant to be strapped for cash and saddled with guilt and worry over bills every month. Joel could provide, for now. His eyes said as much; his fingers threaded through your hair and rubbed your scalp. He cupped your face, all fifty-six years in his own looking as handsome as they’d ever been. He felt good. He felt safe.

You were hot. Your legs trembled and ached.

“Is that something you’d want?” he pressed.

And, still holding Joel’s gaze with a heavy-lidded, fucked out look of your own, you surprised yourself by nodding, slowly. Your body was spent, but the curve on your lips, then his, was sincere; Joel nodded back as he grinned.

“Yeah? You mean it, sweetheart?”

He flipped you both over and got on top, never breaking apart. You wound your legs around his back and let him cup your cheeks again, and from this angle, you felt it. You wouldn’t try and fight it now; you just kissed him.

Then you came for a third time, walls clenching and squeezing and gushing again, smearing Joel’s front as he fucked you right through it. His groans were a little more subdued than yours, but in their timbre, you could hear his desperation. He emptied himself inside you, in the condom, and kept holding your face all the while.

You felt a low pulse between your legs. Then another. And another. And another. Joel’s hips began to still, his hefty greying belly bumping lightly against your skin while he drained what was left in his balls, and you swore that his bones might’ve creaked from the sheer force of those final thrusts. He seemed exhausted. Somehow, though, the man looked even better in this state—haggard and worn as he was, the face above your own was soft. Smiling, faintly, and kissing you constantly.

You couldn’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it; you were far too tired and fucked out of your mind to protest right now.

Joel trailed a path with his lips from your chin to your ear. He kissed the hinge of your jaw and sank himself deeper.

“Mr.—” But you caught yourself, shortly, “…Joel.”

He lifted his head, not apologetic in the least.

“Maybe just one more—” he started.

“No,” you finished for him, sharp.

Still smiling, but with your eyes on him in a thinly veiled threat. Joel accepted that and kept his dick where it was.

What followed was gradual but natural enough. A little awkward as you broached that uncharted territory of remaining in the other’s presence after the deed was done, but Joel didn’t seem like he wanted to leave the bed, and you had nowhere else to go until dinner with your dad at eight. There was a moment you wanted to separate your body from Joel’s, if only to slip off to the bathroom by yourself, but the man just held you closer.

“You think your old man will mind if I joined tonight?”

Here the fuck we go.

“He’ll kill you.”

You pushed hard against his hold without getting so much as an inch of give. Joel had to fight back a chuckle.

“Oh, yeah? Why?”

“Because,” you began in a huff. Wriggling with very little success in his arms, while you were pinned in missionary, “I smell like you. You smell like me. My dad’s a drunk, but he can sniff stuff like that out in a heartbeat. Too risky.”

You punctuated those words with a still more serious look, but before you could nudge at his chest again or say something more, you were forced to swallow a scream. Joel’s grip tightened even more, and he moved to stand up from the bed—with you still in his arms and impaled on his cock. He started to walk to the bathroom.

“Great. Shower’s got plenty of room for the two of us.”

“Joel!”

“Glad I don’t have to keep reminding you of my name.”

His voice was smug. Your gaze was hard. Joel was still hard himself, amazingly, and you almost groaned when you felt the head of his cock bump somewhere soft and sensitive inside. He toted you into the big, bright room.

“If not tonight, how ‘bout tomorrow? Just you and me.”

He would never stop this shit. He reached for the faucet.

“Still too dangerous. You know that,” you chided. Your resolve only wavered a little when you felt the hot water start to pelt at your back. Joel closed the glass door, “Besides…I need to focus on figuring my shit out right now. Work and bills and getting myself a rental car soon.”

Joel paused. He turned, still holding you.

Then, just as swiftly as he’d stepped inside, he carried you right back out of the shower. You whined in protest.

He took you over to the bed and set you down. He left to find his wallet and keys. You might’ve been tempted to voice your displeasure in some other way—namely, by marching back to the bathroom, locking the door, and bathing alone—but before you could speak a word, Joel was back. He looked down at you and held out his fist.

“What’s—”

“Your dad and me’ll be up to our eyeballs in bullshit working the Garcia audit tomorrow—and I know you don’t want him seeing us leave together anywhere—so we can meet at Bohanan’s at six. How does that sound?”

You blinked.

“I don’t…have a car.”

Joel opened his hand. Keys dropped out.

In a single glance, you could see they weren’t his.

Joel drove a garish Super Duty F-450, not an Audi. The cogs were quick to turn in your head, but clearly not fast enough, because Joel was closing your fingers over the keys before you could breathe so much as a syllable to him. When you did, it came out more like a stutter. Palpably mad but far too rattled to get much out:

“Joel, I-I can’t—”

“I’ve been meaning to buy one anyw—”

“You’re insane,” you started to push the keys back, and for some reason, your heart was thudding extra hard as you did. You went on, unblinking, “You don’t…need to.”

“I want to.”

Joel’s hands were warm when he pressed both of his palms to secure yours between them. He could probably feel the way it shook a little, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze was too busy trying to find, and hold, your own while you swallowed and stared and racked your numb brain for any words of defiance. At length, nothing came.

All you could do was meet that look. In the soft brown irises above, you could see it all—the need to comfort, and care, and provide where he could, offer better than the hand you’d been dealt and maybe, interspersed with those feelings somewhere, a simpler need in him to give.

For once, you wanted to believe it.

Fun fact: This fic was inspired by true events‼️💯 My life 😫🤪😤😈 Like reader, my truck is also busted as SHIT and needs $2,700 in repairs!!!! Unlike reader, I will not be sucking and fucking Joel Miller to recoup my losses (not asking for donations, just wanted to give y’all a giggle at my misfortune LOL)

[aurorawritestoescape]

Oooffff very intense first chapter!🔥 I feel so bad for her and I hope Joel Miller treats her better and rocks her world in a positive way💖

1. This is me trying

Sugar-Daddy!Joel Miller x f!OC

General Masterlist | „Runaway Butterfly 🦋“ Masterlist

Summary: You may have gotten out, but the damage is done. As you look back on the past you take a step forward in the present.

Rating: 18+ explicit content mdni!!!!

Word count: 2k

Warnings: no y/n, f!reader, this is how my first OC Moon got born, childhood abuse, self hatred, alludes to sa & suicide attempt(s), 2 separate instances of underage OC getting taken advantage of, nothing to graphic, Weed consumption, panic attack, OC sexualizes herself, she has tits and ass

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: This is the first chapter of my my first Series, it’s been sitting in my notes basically for about 3 months. (Can we believe I’ve been here for 3 months already 😅) I know it’s rather short but the following chapters will be a lot longer. No Joel except in photos, also the Hawaiian Flannel he wears in one of those is the same as @strang3lov3 owns, hers is inspired by Jim Hopper. Bug was also the one that told me to write, so it’s all thanks to her 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Shoutout to @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune for the dividers 🫶🏻

Big thank you to for beta reading @fhatbhabiee & @jennaispunk 🦋🦋🦋

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 👌🏻

Technically you are missing, you didn’t tell them where you’d go, they didn’t even knew you’d go at all. Though, you are sure that they are happy to be ridden of the problem, connecting all of them.

They took your pride, confidence, dignity and hope. They clipped your wings early on so you’d never get away, no chance at getting out of this nightmare. Always destined to be the black sheep, the picture-perfect scapegoat for all of them, and whenever something went wrong you got blamed.

No wonder you started to hate yourself, believing their cruel words. You were never good enough and they made you think it would be better if you would just be gone.

They tore you apart, made you hate the girl in the mirror till you just wanted to give up, they put all the blame on you, they used you as a little girl sized punching bag, they made you believe that everybody grows up that way.

Since both of your parents were equally unstable people, it forced you to grow up quickly, so you could take care of them. Never would you know who that real version of yourself could’ve been, without all the trauma, a loss to carry forever.

How should you have known that what happened was wrong, if you never knew anything else. You thought the violence and the loneliness was part of being a little girl.

With time you became something akin to a shapeshifter, trying to be whatever it took to fulfill their desires, if it meant to be loved. Even just the tiniest amount of recognition, was worth giving yourself up.

But those closest betrayed you. Turns out it was all for nothing at all. All the sacrifices you made were so entirely useless, breaking yourself down to become the version they might’ve liked best, trying fit the shape of their choice and satisfy their deranged ego’s.

You scraped together any amount of savings you still had and sold everything you owned that was worth anything. Your Dad and Grandma gave you some money and that was it.

They had pushed you so far, you felt the need to flee to an entirely different continent, almost a 15 hour fly and 525 miles away from what was supposed to be home, that’s what it took to get some semblance of freedom and peace. Austin became your home, it was a fresh start and that’s exactly what was needed.

To much happened, to many unforgivable occurrences. You couldn’t ever heal in the place they broke you in, surrounded by abusers. They might have forgotten, painted an entirely new picture of the truth for themselves, but you’ll always remember what really went down.

You could still vividly remember your brother’s frantic calls once he realized you were gone. He couldn’t believe you’d really go through on that childish silly dream, he always laughed at you for saying, you’d just pack up one day and leave everything behind.

Guess he’s not laughing anymore.

After countless attempts you finally gave in and picked up, only to met by loud thundering voices yelling at you. It was all about how insane you must be, so incredibly selfish, overly dramatic, over-emotional and weak for simply running away.

A coward.

As always it’s just about them, their feelings and what would be best for them. No care for what you’d want and what the best for you could be.

You tolerated more than anyone else would’ve, before ending the call. It was just an accumulation of empty threats, supposed to put you back in line, but it did the opposite. That phone call was the last time you’d speak to them.

8 months have passed since leaving, its now May and here you sit lounging in the living room of your tiny two-room flat. The soft, grey, cloud-like couch was one of your best investments, making it your second favorite place besides your bed.

Its Friday. The clock shows that it’s close to 6 pm, the early-evening breeze flows in through the open balcony and alongside the bustling noises of the streets outside. Cars honking, tires screeching, kids yelling, people laughing and birds chirping, all of it reminds of the overwhelming world waiting outside of your safe bubble.

You just pulled out your rolling tray, trying to quiet your mind, you’ve barely finished licking the paper. When your phone suddenly goes *ping* *ping*, a sound you haven’t heard before.

Normally that might make you anxious but today you are just annoyed by any sort of interruption to your routine.

„Ughhh.”

You begrudgingly get up to retrieve your phone from the kitchen counter. When you reach it and take a look at the screen you immediately understand what caused the strange sound.

A notification for the Sugar-Daddy website you had started using earlier this week. You have tried those odd websites before, at 16 thinking it would be a good idea. Back then you were already after the attention of a mature, wealthy and significantly older Men.

Looking back you always had a weird infatuation with men outside your age range.

Your first kiss happened, when you were 13 and still played with dolls. He was 21 and had just gotten his drivers license, already moved out and had a job. He took you on a walk, then sat down on an old park bench and just kissed you which felt like heaven,at the time. He was your Bestfriend’s older brother who knew exactly how madly in love you were with him.

Two years later, at 15, you thought that 25 year old police apprentice was seriously interested in you, convinced he’d make you his. But, no, he wanted to fuck a minor, he was after the thrill of something tight and young, to be the first to break you in and then throw you away once you served your purpose.

Even though you were foolish and naive, the perfect opportunity for him to use, it seemed your desperate want for genuine love chased him away before he could go in for the kill.

In those instances you were lucky that nothin worse happened, but at 17 the luck had run out or maybe what happened is what you get for making the mistake of trusting.

It was the friendly guy in your semester group, the one who was troubled himself but made you feel like it’s okay, he seemed to understand you. He became a good friend, he made you feel less alone and in the end he became the biggest nightmare.

Your trust was already broken and played with many times before him, but what he did was one too much. He changed the way you viewed the world, the way you lived.

You were deeply afraid of ever running in to him again, and when it happened you could practically feel the world stop spinning.

It was just a worst case scenario that never came true until it did. You remember that day like it was yesterday, it was supposed to be a quiet run to the grocery store, shopping with a friend. Standing in the bread aisle, you were waiting beside the cart for your friend to make her decision. You just stared down at the ground for a split second before looking back up and there he was. Staring at you with this awful smile of his. Ringing in your ears, shivers running down your spine and shaking hands were all you needed to know that getting out of there was more than necessary.

As you stood at the cash register the thought that it might not have been him weaseled itself into your head. The hope that it might’ve been just some mix-up got crushed when a voice behind you spoke up. That voice, the way he talks, you would recognize it anywhere. He was right there, the monster who looked so nice in the beginning was just a couple inches away. You could practically feel him breathe down your neck, just like he did that night. Keeping your composure was the biggest challenge.

Afterwards on the way home, in your friends car you broke down, never ever would you want him that close again. He contributed to you wanting to get away.

Now at 21, even after everything that happened, you thought about giving the Sugar-Daddy thing one last chance. The money would be nice, of course it would, living free without having to worry, having someone who takes care of you and you get to just enjoy living, is the dream.

You wanted to experience that, so the Profil was created, a few pictures were added showing your face, one displayed a peak of cleavage and another with focus on your backside, wearing tight pants that accentuate your plush ass all while you are just sweetly gazing over your shoulder.

Those photos were choosen with good reasoning, you believed that showing skin would attract more attention from the Sugar-Daddy’s.

A classmate once told you „You know...the only fuckable thing about you is that set of tits and that ass. Nothin else, well except maybe ur mouth,“ all while smugly laughing.

And he wasn’t the only one who said shit like that, so you believed it, showin off the assets it was and it worked but none of these man were really what you were looking for.

After 2 days of being flooded with messages, little to nothing came through anymore which you were a bit happy about, since the overwhelming attention was too much too quickly.

You are a recluse, three friends that’s all you got, two of them not even living in Austin. A lot of times you just want to be alone with yourself. Branching out like 6 years ago is not your style anymore and you started to regret putting yourself out there like this. You would’ve probably deleted the profile if it wasn’t for the awfully handsome Man who apparently took a look at your profile which caused the whole strange notification-sound.

You could only see his name “Joel Miller” but that was enough to peak your interest.

You take your phone, walk back to the couch and sit down. You scutch backwards till you can feel the pillow at your back to lean against. You open his profile and your mouth goes dry instantly. He looks to be about 40 ish, his brown-grey streaked locks are neatly styled, a well groomed beard adorned his face and those grey patches certainly made you squirm in place.

They showed his age and that is what turned you on. His amber brown orbs were quickly pulling you in. In some of his photos he wore expensive lookin suits, all highly professional. In others he looked more casual, wearing flannels and even a cute hawaiian shirt in a picture that must’ve been taken on a beach.

He looked big, 6ft3 tall, tan skin, with broad shoulders, biceps that could crush you and his hands, oh they are a sight to behold, you thought of what he could possibly to with them. How would they feel on your body, holding your hand, caressing your face, stroking your head or squeezing your waist.

You feel your cheeks get warm, heart rate picking up and there is a tremble in your breathing, all because of him.

You can already imagine how much power he would have over you with his entire body, you want that.

With all the gawking and fanning you lost track of the time, 45 minutes where spend looking at him, that realization made you feel a bit embarrassed but it turned into shock when the *Ping* *Ping* sound of again, this time with a notification that read ”Congratulations, The verified Sugar-Daddy has sent you a message don’t let him wait to long, swipe here to answer,“ and then his name ”...Joel Miller“.

Maybe he would be different to those before him, maybe you got your luck back and so you decided swipe.

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

People I think might be interested: @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @punkshort @burntheedges @almostfoxglove @taeslarityy @joelsdagger @littlemisspascal

Taglist 🦋: @joelalorian @msjarvis @stevie75 @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @beefrobeefcal @baronessvonglitter @sherala007 @moonlitbirdie @thundermartini @sjc7542

Please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist or taken off 🫶🏻