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Candles

Part 5 to Best Man Series. follow Christmas Party.

Joel Miller x F!Reader, Tommy Miller x F!Reader

Summary: It's Tommy's birthday. So why are you still looking for Joel to celebrate it?

notes: Its been 4 months but here's the next part for those of you still waiting on since December! The next part will most likely be the finale.

Warnings: unprotected sex (with Tommy), infidelity / cheating, pregnant reader, toy usage, dildo riding, breeding kink, oral m!receiving (with Joel), m!masturbation, short voyeurism, vaginal fingering, cum eating, jealous!Joel, emotions are FLLYYINNGGG in this one

18+ ONLY

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Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

He’s at home, drifting off in thought as his hands do poor work on wrapping paper around the new pair of shoes and watch that he picked out. When Sarah, who’s focus is on brushing her doll’s hair and changing her bathing suit, starts yapping about how Uncle Tommy's kid is gonna be her best friend since she doesn't have any siblings to play with right now, all Joel can think about is you and Tommy together right now on his special day.

What would it be like, waking up to you in a shared bed every day? To be the first to kiss you, smell your morning breath and sift his fingers through your bed head? To see your eyes shine from the sun reflecting off of them, twinkling with the buildup of a tear after a yawn.

What would it be like, getting a birthday blow job from you first thing in the morning? Even if you aren’t his wife, he’s thought about getting to have you all the time, just for him. He doesn’t get jealous of Tommy very often, because Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous, but he tuts at the idea that your mouth wrapped around his cock is a sight he gets to behold more often than Joel ever will.

What would it be like, to not have to sneak around? To just have you loudly, unashamed, sloppily, proudly, the way you deserve, without constantly checking behind your back? To capture your lips in front of everyone like it were normal, to hold your pregnant belly like it was his, because damnit it might as well be.

It drives him insane he can’t mark you up the way Tommy can, less the two of you be caught in your affair. All he can do is pound you better, ruin you some more, and fill you with his seed.

As if the last one hadn’t already reared its consequences in your growing belly. You’re too beautiful, too full of something special to be kept to one guy.

Still. He’ll only ever be second to Tommy.

What would it be like … to call you his?

“Dad…Dad!”

“What!”

Joel looks down at Sarah who’s got her hands on her hips and a stern look about her face.

Jesus, she really does spend too much time with me.

“The door,” she repeats, pointing downstairs. On cue, the doorbell chimes again.

He grunts as he lifts himself to his feet, brushing her head messily with his big palm before hopping down to answer.

It’s his dad.

“How old ya gotta be to leave your old man standin’ outside in the cold?”

Joel rolls his eyes, shifting to allow his father through the front. “It’s 79 degrees out.”

“Cold for my old bones,” he groans, feinting a shiver. “Share-Bear!”

Sarah bulldozers straight to his abdomen and wraps her arms in a big hug.

Joel lightly tugs on one of her curly strands and she yelps “ow!”

“Go upstairs and get changed.”

She barrels upstairs to her room, leaving Joel and Miller senior.

Joel continues tossing a bunch of tape on to the sad excuse of a gift before crinkling all the paper up and tossing it. He moves to search for a gift bag in the closet instead.

His dad sighs loudly. “Tommy sure got a nice beat goin’ for ‘im.”

“Sure does,” Joel notes, his attention more on the shoving past the vacuum.

“Good house, good job, kid on the way. A pretty gal.”

Joel closes the closet and turns towards his dad. “What’s your point, pops?”

“You know my point. He’s got it all together. You...”

“Me what? You don’t think I ain’t doin good on my own?”

“You shouldn’t have to be on your own. Sarah’s mom wasn’t...we knew she wasn’t gonna stick around. Its tough havin’ a kid to raise by yourself—“

“I wouldn’t trade my babygirl in for anything else in the world,” Joel snaps quickly. His eyes dart upstairs briefly. Its a conversation he hates when his dad brings up, especially when Sarah could just be lurking around the corner.

“Im not sayin’ that but.” Grandpa Miller shakes his head and takes a seat at the island. “Kid needs a mom. You need a woman. Someone to hold and kiss and make promises to. Someone to love.”

Joel drops the now filled bag on the countertop. I have that already. It’s just—complicated. “There a reason you stopped by? Other than to lecture me?”

His father grunts apathetically. “Just came by for some wrapping paper, but by the looks of it—“ He glances at Joel’s empty tape roll and bunched up pile of ribboned paper—“Guess I’ll go down to the store to get some.”

“Well you know where the door is.”

His dad follows Joel to his open front door to show him out. One aging father and one rapidly aging eldest son look at each other with a sense of sadness.

“Joel—“

“I’ll see you at Tommy’s.”

If you weren’t so pregnant, waking up before Tommy would have been so much easier to give him a blow job.

Instead. It’s half past 9, and you’re just rousing to consciousness. Fully well knowing Tommy has probably been awake for at least an hour but faking it just so he can wake up with you.

“Good morning birthday boy,” you grumble groggily, a soft smile spreading across your cheeks as you pull him in for a peck.

He grins and wraps himself around you. “Mmm Good Morning, little Momma. Ya know what I want for my birthday?”

You did know. He dropped hints like crazy and you already had it ready to go by your nightstand.

The thing about Tommy is…Tommy likes watching. It’s something you figured out when you were already dating after a year. Something about watching you touch yourself, spreading your legs on the bed and fucking yourself with a dildo, or grinding on his pillow and moaning as he stroked his cock from across the room, has him leaking in his palm with dirty words of encouragement.

And even with a hefty baby in your belly, his view of you bouncing on top of the sizable dildo was no different.

“Fuck, fuck that’s it angel. Takin’ that dick so good. Bet it feels good, huh?” He grips his balls with his palm while the other fists over his dick. Sitting upright in your makeup chair, fully naked and facing the bed, he gets a view of everything. His hungry eyes never once leave your body.

You nod. Your knees hurt, but the sight of Tommy’’s heart shaped eyes watching your milky breasts bounce, your lips spread to accomodate the girth of the silicon cock has you smiling for your deserving husband.

“It’s—not as easy with the bump…” you say fretfully. You feel like shit, not being able to give him the show that he wanted on his birthday. It’s a lot more difficult to angel and thrust a stick into you when there’s a planet blocking your view.

Tommy hoists himself up quickly, jerking his cock as he approaches you. He tosses the dildo and crawls over you before veiny hands caress along your hips, over your belly and squeezing your tits. “S’okay, little Momma. ‘m’here now. Daddy’s gonna make it better.”

You grasp his face with both hands and grin, pulling his lips to yours. At the same time, he slides his leaking member into your folds, forcing a grunt in the back of both of your throats as he bottoms out.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me,” he growls, fucking you steadily with deep strokes. “I get my one birthday wish today. Thinking’ I’m gonna leave a little present in this pussy. Have ya walk around all day with a lil bit of me inside.”

You laugh and gently tap your belly. “There’s a bit more than a ‘little’ bit of you inside me already.”

His stomach rumbles with a a chuckle. “That’s for everyone else to know who ya belong to. Nah, I’m talkin something just between you n me.” His arm holds himself above you as he rocks his hips with shallow ruts. “Shit, shit, ya gonna take it f’me? Gonna take my present on my fuckin’ birthday?”

You let out a high pitched whine, neck convulsing backwards as your cunt starts tightening around his length.

Tommy locks your lips to his, tongue’s messily rolling into one another’s mouth. A string of saliva connect between the two of you when he pulls away, only for him to rub it against your breast.

“Tommy,” you moan desperately. You’re close, you’re about to tell him so: “I—“

“I love you,” he rasps. His eyes are shut tight as he finds that sweet spot inside, sending you over the edge before you can finish your thought.

He thrusts a few more times before stilling. His balls twitch with satisfaction, each grunt from his chest echoing the spurts of his seed inside you. He feels at peace when he can be this close to you, his hand warm against your tight tummy and his soon-to-be kids.

His soon to be complete family.

His words rattle in your ears. You feel the opposite of light and airy after an orgasm. No, everything is heavy. Your head feels like a boulder stuck to the pillow. Yet empty. Your body so full yet feeling incredibly hollow right now.

Tommy kisses your lips once more, not noticing the way you don't return the vervor. He sits up, wipes the sweat from his brows and slaps your thigh.

“You okay? Fucked ya a little too hard, baby momma?” He snickers.

You fake a laugh, hoping he’ll see you’re feeling exhausted rather than suspect anything is wrong.

Your husband kisses your forehead with a whisper “Stay in bed, you rest as long as ya need,” before walking towards the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

I love you. It should have made you feel surrounded by him. Comforted, secure, proud, inseparable, sound, cherished, warm, fuzzy, happy, truthful, light. Your husband confessing his love to you.

Instead, it only reminded you of the dream had about Joel again last night.

Joel in your house. Joel in your bed. Joel dropping Sarah off at school and feeding your newborn with her bottle. Joel cooking in your backyard, Joel’s hands entwined with yours on a walk. Joel rubbing your shoulders and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Joel kissing your cheek and telling you he lo—

You cover your face with the back of your hands. Tommy’s the one in your bed. Tommy holds your hand and kisses your cheek, and will be feeding and burping your baby, will be there for you forever and always because that’s what you promised to each other.

You hold the ring on your finger up high in the air, its dazzling shimmer glints in your eyes. Your eternal promise, displayed on something so small yet so permanent, wrapped up in such a beautiful band.

The same ring that Best Man Joel carried in his pocket safely for months before you swore yourself to his brother.

You curse under your breath.

You’re still going to have to see him today.

He watches you crowd over Tommy seated at the head of the table, your hands lovingly on his shoulders. He thinks about his “one wish” for a while, but he only looks sideways towards you, holding your gaze for a moment before he confidently blows his candles. The room erupts in a rumble of cheers and clapping, but Tommy and you are only smiling at one another. He grabs your face and kisses you, smearing some icing on your nose. You laugh with him and rub it along his own, the two of you giddy and in your own world.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

And when you slice into the cake, nobody really understand why the cake is split between a blue and pink center. Everyones thinking the same thing--we already did the baby shower, it was going to be a girl!

“We might...have found out…there's gonna be another one,” you say sheepishly, your hands rollings over the heft of your larger than life belly that surprisingly has two little bubbas growing inside.

Twins. you're having fucking twins.

Tommy grasps your face and smears more icing on you, the two of you locking lips again and getting a little too pg-13 in a room full of raucous screeches that feel like nails on a chalkboard, shuffling chairs like a thunderous stampede. Everyone rushes to congratulate the two of you, how your lives are really starting, how exciting it must all be, what names you’ve been thinking of, its its everything you’d hoped it would be.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

Tommy knew, of course he did. Both of you planned it, to announce it like that. He’s got that smug look on his face, nothing of surprise. Just absolutely elated to share news that had been sitting on the two of you for who knows how long. Something Joel used to always get firsthand word from. You’re having twins. And he’s learning about it for the first time, same as everyone else. Tommy’s friends pat him on the back. Aunts kiss his cheek and even his dad smiles towards his youngest son’s success, all while the whole time, his ringed hand hasn’t left the curve of your swollen womb.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

He slips out the back of the room, everyone too engrossed in surrounding the happy couple. Nobody cared for Joel’s presence, not since the minute Tommy was born. Nobody would bat an eye for his absence today too.

…

You’re excited, you want to celebrate, and having everyone touching and surrounding you and asking questions wasn’t the way you wanted it. That’s why it was supposed to be during Tommy’s birthday, so there was something else to focus on.

But your body is on edge. It was attention from all that thrill. Jittery and warm under your palms.

Between your legs.

It’s hard to force Joel out of your mind whenever he’s in the same room. So when he dips out of the kitchen without making any gesture towards you, you didn’t hesitate to excuse yourself for a bathroom break. Nobody questions it, continuing their swarm around Tommy now who’s too eager for all the attention to really notice.

You don’t know what you expect from Joel. You don’t even know why you’re seeking him right now, and not standing by your husband’s side. You love Tommy. He’s everything to you.

So why is there still this half of you that feels… like you need more?

Maybe your body is thinking on her own accord now, and that’s been a problem that needs to end. No. No you just wanted to talk. That’s all. He's your brother-in-law, for fucks sake. it’s natural you want to hear his thoughts. He’s gonna be a double uncle! He deserves a congratulations! Hope he’ll tell you congratulations too. Acknowledge it in some way. That its happening. That you and Tommy—are just you and Tommy.

You wonder where the older Miller may have gone in such a small house. Sarah was still in the room, sneaking cake since nobody else seemed to care to slice it up, so where on earth—?

A callused palm wrap around your mouth and pulls you backwards into the dark bathroom, the door closing you inside with him warm and pressed tightly against your back.

“Shhhhhhhhh,” he whispers. The warmth of his breath makes you shiver, all the way down to the dampness spreading along your panties. Fuck. What was it about just ‘talking’ to him again?

“J-Joel,” your voice wavers cautiously. “I—“

“You still gonna keep pretending you don’t want me?”

You face him as he turns the lights on and the two of you are caught in one another’s grasps. There’s a moment where you size him up, and he wonders if you’ll bluff his pass.

Instead, Like magnets that can’t resist their attractions, your instincts overwhelm you. Your eager fingers dig into the back of his neck and smash his lips against yours. The traces of icing still linger on your lips and tongue, the two of you devouring one another, fighting to get the last lick before coming apart to breathe.

Joel just smirks, his tongue swiping over his puffy lower lip. “Sweet,” he hums. His thumb brushes the bit of icing you didn’t know was still on your nose and puts it in his mouth. “How somethin’ so sweet come from someone so naughty?”

You quickly drop to a squat and roughly shove his hips back against the sink. Nimble fingers working swiftly to unbuckle his jeans and shove them down to his thighs.

You’re both panting through swollen lips, heart rate moving a lot quicker than the activities you’ve so far done would permit. He’s gorgeous like this—illuminated by the harsh florescent light above, his sincere, albeit sinful, smile and rosy cheeks watching you kiss his hardened length.

He doesn’t force you. Doesn’t do anything to make you feel concerned. In fact, you’ve cornered him against the vanity, forcing yourself between his bent knees and inserting his tip to your wet mouth.

“Beautiful,” he whispers softly. His thumb strokes over your cheek as you guide more of his leaking cock into your mouth until it hits the back of your throat. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, not even to blink.

Your head bobs eagerly, swallowing around him. There’s just something about that huge dick of his that has you going feral. An itch you can’t scratch until his cum is either nested safely in your stomach or your womb. Maybe it’s because you’ll never be able to get rid of him. He’ll be around forever, and that means you can keep seeing him and his beefy horse cock forever. Forbidden yet yours for the taking. Every day if you wanted.

The sounds of the party outside feel so remote compared to the events happening in such a little room right now. Just between you and Joel.

The babies ain’t quite here yet so just you and Joel.

“Pretty pretty angel, sucking’ Daddy’s cock like that. What would your husband think? Suckin’ his big brother off in your house? I’d tell ‘im you got to your knees all by yourself. Little slut couldn’t wait for it. Second she saw me, needed my fat cock stretchin’ her throat, ain’t that right? Needed me to give ya something today too? Just that selfish, aren’t ya?”

You pull off his cock with a big gasp, smiling lazily. He slaps his cock against your open tongue with thick and wet patpatpats.

He tsks you. “Pregnant gal, on her knees, takin’ cock like a slut. What a woman you are, little momma.”

You hum in approval, the drunken desire for Joel to fill your every senes clogging your brain.

Soft lips enclose around his tip again and he thrusts forward this time, holding his cock deep. You try to remember to breathe through your nose, even with his hairs tickling your lashes, but Joel pulls back enough to just his tip, and sets a gentle rhythm back and forth.

Joel’s head falls back against the mirror. His eyelids feel heavy each time he looks down to you. So full and rounded by a child—two children…if they're his, Joel’s having another daughter and his first son.

“Told ya you were made from breedin’. You’re gonna be like this the rest of ya life. Gonna put another baby in ya, then another—” he chuckles to himself, “N’another—havin’ ya suck cock not remember what number baby ya got growing’ in ya belly.”

He hisses through his teeth as you suck his member in and out, picking up pace. Your tongue works over his tip with each swipe, hand jerking off the base of his dick that you can’t fit. Any saliva and precum is immediately suckled and swallowed, leaving no evidence at the scene.

You’d gotten pretty good at that.

Joel’s beefy paw grasps the porcelain edge behind him as he hisses through his teeth. His stomach tenses, the veins in his v’line straining and you know he’s close.

You alternate between sucking his balls and jacking off his cock above you. “What if I busted all over that pretty face? Have ya walk around your house with my cum on those lashes as everyone told ya what a cock hungry whore you are.”

You moan around him, your pussy so slicked between your thighs that it’s dripping down your pants. Its wrong. Fuck, you��re so wrong to want it. Want Tommy to see who’s marking you up, see how much you’d spread your pussy for Miller cock no matter if its your husbands his brothers.

His cock finds its way to your mouth again, and he starts thrusting lightly.

“Swallow it, swallow it all. Want ya hesitatin’ to kiss Tommy after this. Knowin’ ya got my spunk in your mouth still. Fuck me babydoll, mouth’s a dream.”

His jaw drops low as he cums, and god what a sight. Your cunt throbs as he lets out pained breaths into the air, ready to cum if you were able to touch yourself right now.

You gulp down his salty load, lips suctioned to his tip and milking him clean to avoid any messes that might linger.

“That’s a good slutty wife,” he whispers down to you. Even on your knees, the heft of your pregnant belly is doing wonders to him.

You lazily grin up to his smug grin. He knows you like showing him just how good you are at swallowing loads, like a good wife always does.

He pulls his softened cock out of your mouth, and you gasp a big breath of air, your hands still clinging to his thighs.

You feel his protective hands hoist you up to your feet.

“Anything hurt?” He asks gently, holding your body flush against him as he rubs your tummy and hips. He feels much less tense than just moments ago when he pulled you in the bathroom with him.

You shake your head. It’s not the first time you’ve gone down on a man while 30 pounds heavier with a baby. Your knees are a bit sore, but it’s nothing compared to the ache you’ve been feeling in your back for months now.

You try to pull away from Joel, but his arm is wrapped tightly around you.

“Didn’t think you were pullin’ me in here just to suck me off. Why are you actin’ like this little snatch is happy from that?”

“I didn’t pull you—you pulled me,” you correct.

“You came lookin’ f’me. And you got on your knees all by yourself.”

His hands caress lower down your hip, gliding along your leggings towards your crotch. It should be wrong, the way your hand closes around his wrist to guide him closer, his digits dipping below the waistline and down your panties.

He feels it: the soft squelch of your slick in your ruined underwear, pulsing madly. He grins and lets out a satisfied yet devious ‘ooooh there we go’ against your cheek.

But there’s more. More dripping from here than he’s given you just from the thrill of sucking his cock.

He pushes his middle finger past your entrance and fingers out the glob of cum that had been deposited inside you earlier today.

“It’s —it’s Tommy’s birthday,” you moan, as if he needed an explanation as to why your husband’s seed is dripping out of your pussy. “Had—to give him—ooohhhhuugggg—his…gift—“

He continues to finger fuck you slowly, his younger brother’s cum practically pooling in your underwear. “Got one man’s cum in your mouth and a different one’s in ya pussy." He shakes his head. when he gets you like this, sometimes he would forget that you’re Tommy’s wife, after all. That Tommy gets you more than him. Gets to fill you whenever he pleases. Gets to hear your moans as loudly as he wants. That Tommy’s right to your pussy is his first and foremost, sacredly, forever and always.

That doesn’t stop Joel from seething at the thought of having to finger his brothers spent out of you.

"What, he didn’t make ya cum?” He taunts, picking up the pace. Even as you wreathe under his touch, your nails clench into his bicep, feeling the muscle work with each flick of his knuckle. “S’why you’re so desperate today? Wifey didn’t get her selfish little cunt pleased from your husband on his birthday?”

"I did come …” you protest weakly. You squeeze your eyes shut, head tilted down as he works you open. It’s sloppy and sticky in your leggings, soaking the underside with your slick and Tommy’s cum being forced out by Joel’s big fingers relentlessly hitting the gummy spot inside.

His other hand grips your chin and forces you to look at him:

“Then why you comin’ to me?”

There’s a prickle of a tear filling your eyes. You've been asking yourself the same thing for months. You don’t know from what; the brink of pleasure or guilt, but there’s a hefty stone that’s burrowed in your chest all day that you didn’t know needed to escape. The words are forced out of your chest with a pained gasp.

"... I just want... more.”

It should pain you to admit it, to be so selfish for these men, never feeling one is enough for you.

Normally He would kiss you right now, to hush your mind to reveal something so heavy, but instead, he holds your gaze, gritting his teeth with a snarl just barely poking along his lip. He wants to let your words sink into your bones, really grasp what you've been denying for too long. Suffer with it, even.

You hadn’t even realized he backed you up against the door, pressing his knee between your leg. You’ve become trapped and hadn’t even noticed. His fingers prod your entrance incessantly, reaching deep inside so there’s no way of you to wiggle out of his grasp. curling up and beating your g-spot better than Tommy can—at this point, its very possible you’ve had more sex with Joel than with your own husband.

And that makes the coil in your pussy snap.

Joel belittles you without any words while you fall apart against the wooden door holding you up. Working the heft of his palm against your clit until your brows are furrowing, mouth agape, walls clamping down tight around him as you cum. The door rattles with each little roll of your hips, and your moans aren’t hushed either.

He watches, the way your eyes are glued to him, blown wide in guilt and in pleasure while little whines escape your lips. Unrelenting and stoic as he works you through your orgasm, granting no mercy nor even trying to shush your little cries from over stimulation. You don’t hesitate when he brings his fingers to your lips, swallowing them whole and sucking Tommy and your slick off Joel’s fingers. He wipes the rest off on your shirt.

Every emotion you feel with Tommy, you feel with Joel in moments like these. He holds you close to him as you breathe in his musky, minty scent. His shirt smells a bit like flowered softener and a hint of early morning sweat. Fumigated with the thick aroma of sex.

You're looking at the ring on your knuckle.

“I helped pick it out. Carried it for months. ’S practically my ring to you too.” He’s babbling now, getting lost in that hazy after-orgasm glow between two people who are connected by a strong, strange bond. “Sometimes …sometimes I think about stealing you away all to myself.”

He makes you two look in the mirror together, with him cradling your belly as you hold your ring hand to your chest. “Look,” he commands softly against your ear. “Kinda looks like our own little family.”

You hate that you kind of liked that idea. But then Tommy is in your mind, the man that you actually love, who fought for you, who you tied your vows to, and as far as you’re concerned, the father of your children.

Angry, you try to break away and shove Joel, but he's used to it. Used to you closing him off right after these moments of pure insanity. He's not letting it happen today. This time he’s got a firm grip on you like a brick wall and steel wire melding you tight to him. He knows you don’t actually want to push him away.

"You said you wanted more.”

It’s not a question: it’s a statement. A fact.

The very real thought, the one you tried to push away every time this happens, dawns on you: Joel is tired of sneaking around. Wants to have you when he wants. When everyone is watching.

Not just sex. To be in your bed, making you dinner and watching movies, dropping Sarah off to school rubbing your back when you’re in pain, there for the babies when you deliver and every day after.

You manage to push him off of you and shake your head. The chatter outside grows louder than the beats of your heart. Hoisting your pants back up into place, you go to grab the bathroom door, but Joels strong grip lays over top your and forces the door shut.

There’s a deadly, threatening finality to his tone. “I’m telling him.”

You turn back with a shocked expression, partially expecting him to be joking about it. Not that it’s funny. It’s not funny at all.

But Joel hasn’t moved. Hasn’t cracked a smile. A man whose resolve has overcome his patience. His lips are tight, jaw tense as he watches you try to answer to that horrifying outcome.

“Joel. No. Are you insane?”

“If its my kids you’re having, I have every right to be there for you—“

“But it’s NOT!”

“You know that? Tell me right know, you know it for sure. Say it ain’t mine, and I’ll never bring it up again.”

You go quiet, looking down at the belly that’s carrying your babies. You want to shrink away from your fears, from the men who’ve caught you between them with their words and their love and their touch. You’re Tommy’s wife. Yet here you are with Joel. Again. In your and Tommy’s house. And Joel’s hand on you, and on your finger is Tommy’s ring—Joel’s ring--TOMMY—

It’s too much. Everything is closing around you, your lungs suffocating themselves under the pressure that you caused by seeking him out. Finding him and putting yourself in this exact situation ever. Single. Time.

You yank the door again, desperate to escape, but Joel doesn’t budge. He refuses to let you walk away from the conversation. From him.

“You didn’t deny it,” he reminds you. he pulls your reluctant focus to him again. “Just say it: Tell me you want me. Tell me you lo—”

“I don’t.” You declare rigidly. Its too far. No, no, no,nonoNO. You expel those thoughts, his words, quick to cast them out before letting them enter your system. The next words rush out of your mouth with a deep ache seized in the pit of your stomach: “You’re just a good fuck.”

The air is thin around you. Something has dropped, a pin, a dime, a fucking boulder, between the two of you. Joel grits his teeth and removes his hand from the door, backing away from you with a scowl. He pulls it the knob open harshly and brushes past you quickly, not even taking a moment to check if anyone was nearby to see you emerging from the bathroom too.

He grabs his jacket and strides towards the living room. You can make out the commotion behind the wall; Sarah is having her own philosophy course to her personal audience, asking, "Whats the point of having so many candles if you can only make one wish!?"

Joel grabs her hand and dismisses them quickly. Her sad cries echo into the hall: “But why! It’s too early!”

Joel’s stern voice echoes in the hall as they make their way across the entryway. “Because I said so. I’ve got work tomorrow. We’re leaving.”

She continues to complain, but Joel doesn’t have any heart to continue their conversation. Ushering her out of the house and slamming the front door behind them.

You stare at the door, having not moved from your place.

The carpet beneath your socked-feet feels too shaggy. I hated this carpet. Its too fucking much for fucking Texas and every god damn person who sees it here.

You flinch when Tommy’s hand creeps along your belly. Disgusting your sniffle as a cough and wiping your nose. You worry he noticed, but he doesn’t do anything to push the matter further. “What’s up with him?”

You huff an annoyed sigh. “I don’t fucking know. He’s your brother. Just Leave me the fuck alone.”

Tommy observes your face momentarily, the way you avoid his eyes. He pulls away. “I’m gonna let this one slide as a pregnancy hormonal thing,” he says lowly, a cold soberness to his tone. “Then you can tell me what’s botherin’ ya so much lately. Or not. I’ll let you decide.”

You cover your face with your hands, sinful hands that feel like dry leather and charred ashes. Hands that don’t feel like your own anymore.

It would be better if Tommy just walked away. So you can simmer in your guilt and pain, like any cheating wife would. Like a sensible man who doesn’t take that shit from his wife, no matter what her personal problems are. From a woman who’s secretly jeopardizing their marriage for… what exactly?

You wanted more…but…what did you want more of?

Instead, Tommy feels his lips quiver slightly. He brings your head to his chest, smothering you in his scent and his embrace, his love and comfort.

Your insides break down in a flood. Tears and hiccups suffocate you as you wrap your arms around your husband and sob into his denim jacket, the one you just gave him this morning as his first birthday gift from his new wife.

Tommy’s never pushed you for anything. Maybe to his own detriment.

Deep down, you suspect, he knows it too.

Instead, he just holds you, swaying back and forth with gentle ‘shhh’ into your forehead. Never once faltering on the stretch of his hug, his arms holding you up and against him like a seatbelt built for a lifetime.

You feel like you just drove the car off a cliff.

Series Taglist: @yawnetu @tearfallpixie @morgaussy @whirlwindrider29 @merci-killing @604to647 @robertpattins0nswh0re

- - - -

Finale poll: Who are you Rooting for?

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bluevxnus · 2 days

Text

Christmas Party

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Follows Baby Shower. Can be read as part 4 to Best Man Series or as standalone

Summary: When husband!Tommy suggests hosting the Christmas Eve party this year, Santa!Joel gets your undivided attention and makes this Christmas one to remember.

Notes: This didn't turn out as slutty as I hoped—I was more excited thinking about writing it then when I was actually writing but ah well...here is my Christmas contribution!

Warnings: infidelity/cheating, Santa!Joel, unprotected sex, pregnant reader, oral f receiving, breastfeeding, lactation kink, breeding/pregnancy kink, praise, language, cowgirl/riding, cheesy Santa-fucking jokes

18+ ONLY

- - - -

With the baby now well on the way, you weren’t exactly thrilled when your husband Tommy suggested the two of you host the Christmas Eve party. Your feet hurt, you hadn’t had a drink in months and still won’t be able to tonight, the house flooded with both wedding and baby shower gifts—hosting a party on top of it all wasn’t in your cards.

“My parents said they’ll bring all the food and cook, so you don’t have to worry about anything. I’m gonna clean the living room and kitchen, just gonna shove the gifts in the baby room for now, okay? Oh and—“ his face wrinkles, mustache twitching as he suppresses a chuckle—“Joel’s gonna come dressed as Santa.”

Oh.

Oh. Ho.

Hosting Christmas sounded like the best idea ever.

Did Joel want to come dressed as Santa? Well nobody asked him what he thought of the idea but everyone else leapt at volun-telling him to do so.

Of course, the one guy who actually has a kid now has to explain why he’s dressing as Santa Claus rather than bringing the real big man in red down himself.

“It’s okay, Daddy. I know Santa isn’t real.”

Joel pauses, heavy brown boot slung halfway up his ankle. He puts both his hands on his knees, the loose red trousers he spent an hour ironing now wrinkled. “And what idiot told you that?”

“Uncle Tommy.”

Uncle fucking Tommy.

“Well don’t listen to Uncle Tommy. He don’t know sh—tuff,” he quickly corrects. “Now go get your bow so I can spend an hour knottin’ it in your hair and then regrettin’ it tomorrow.”

Sarah bounces out of the room, twirling her sparkly red holiday dress as she sings Uncle Tommy don’t know shtuff.

Having an illicit affair with your brother’s wife is one thing, but telling a 7 year old that Santa isn’t real is entirely a heinous and unforgivably crime on its own.

Maybe Joel would have to slip a little something something into Tommy’s eggnog tonight and spoil his wife, keeping her to himself.

Like old times.

Joel slung up his suspenders over his broad shoulders, then dawned the cheap polyester thick crimson fuzzy coat complete with leather sash belt.

He looked himself in the mirror, turning to the side to curse his not quite Santa worthy belly, but still noticeable holiday season pudge reflecting back on him. While itchy, the coat did fit his meaty chest and back nicely.

He kept his scruff growing just a little longer, though patchy as ever. And refusing to put on a fake beard and white wig, he threw the hat on top.

If Sarah were a legal gambler, he’d bet her $1000 that you would laugh the first second he stepped foot in your door.

- - - -

Something about Joel showing up to your front door looking like sleazy drunk back alley mall Santa as opposed to pure Christian coca cola drinking St Nick has your panties dampening faster than he could say Ho Ho Hoe.

Yeah, maybe it should bother you that you were slicker than a melting ice rink in the Texas heat just from hugging Joel and kissing his scruffy cheek while he caressed your baby bump a little too sensually. You had to remind yourself that your fuck me like your whore elf eyes were visible to everyone here too, including your husband that you’d so far remained less than faithful to.

Joel noticed, though.

While the two of you didn’t have any time alone in the crowded living room, singing songs and laughing, Joel continued to steal glances your way. You sat in Tommy’s lap and fed him cookies while he occasionally kissed you, dribbling crumbs down your cleavage and on top of your belly. All the while returning heavy lidded eyes across the room, licking along the edge of the sugar pastry, gaze pointing down between Santa’s legs, wishing to get a peak at what kind of present he was packing just for you.

Joel kept shifting his position, tucking his boner up along the belt and hidden under his big sweaty coat. He very much liked the attention his man spread was getting from you, but he didn’t want everyone else, including children, to see his inappropriate hard-on, especially after oogling his heavily pregnant sister-in-law all evening.

He gave snide, forced smiles to the other guests poking his lard belly and saying he’s halfway into the roll already, or asking when he would be getting a girlfriend any time soon. Itching all over, sweat running down his back, belt cutting uncomfortably into his hips, he couldn’t wait for the night to be over.

Every time he watched you struggle to get up on your feet, he wanted to leap to help you, but someone was at his heel calling for a picture, and by the time he’d look back, you would already waddling into the kitchen to fetch more drinks for your drunk husband.

By the end of the night, the only two adults at the party that weren’t wasted from spiked eggnog were the pregnant lady (you) and Santa —who had an exhausted little girl he knew he had to tuck into bed. After gifts were exchanged and final desserts polished off, everyone had said their Merriments and gone home, leaving just Sarah, Joel, you and Tommy.

The 7 year old had dozed off an hour ago, sugar high crashing down hard on her in the office. She hadn’t even slipped off both shiny black shoes before falling over on her dad’s denim jacket and curling up for a nap. Joel draped a soft blanket over her and kissed her forehead before quietly closing the door behind him.

He hadn’t even a moment to turn around before feeling greedy, warm hands wrap around his middle. He grunted softly when they adoringly caress up and across his chest, feeling both delicate and aggressive all at once before they travel down to his crotch with a hungry squeeze.

“I’ve been a good girl all night, Santa. Don’t I get a gift, too?” You whisper in your sultry, hushed voice against his shoulder.

“With the way you been behavin’ all night? I don’t know any good girls like that.” He spins around and catches your hands, throwing them over his shoulder. Your baby belly presses firmly into his as he glides his beefy palm over your elbow and forearm.

“You look good like this.” Your fingers fiddled with the pom at the end of his cheap hat.

“What, fat and stupid?”

You shake your head, hand dancing across his strong upper back and neck. “Strong. Capable. Enduring. Head-of-the-family kind of man. Very sexy.”

Despite his heart skipping a beat, he tries to ignore the way you make him feel—not like someone who needed to get his shit together, but as someone who was everything perfect already. Joel peered down at you, forcing your chin up to meet his eyes.

You certainly looked drunk, with beady, lidded pupils blown wide, sucking your lower lip between your teeth like candy and giggling softly, arching your back enough to press closer into Joel’s body. You were dressed in a cute oversized ugly Christmas sweater that fit your swollen body snugly, leaving no room for imagination.

His hands rested atop your hips, swaying with you as your foreheads press together. You were breathing hard, heart beating quickly under the fabric. “I’m just so wet tonight,” you whimper. “For Santa.”

He growls, hand groping your ass and pulling your cheeks apart. He glances over your shoulder to see Tommy, who is unconscious and comically splayed over the couch, passed out drunk.

Joel tugs your arm and leads the two of you upstairs, down the hall. You suspect he might take you to the guest bedroom, and you’re almost about to warn him of the avalanche of boxes waiting to fall down if you opened the door, but then Joel walked to the closed door on the right—yours and Tommy’s master bedroom—and pushed it right open.

He hadn’t even latched the door behind him when you were grabbing his neck and shoving your lips onto his. Your teeth clash, tongues forcing their way into each other’s mouth as you hurriedly tug the white fuzzy collar of his coat down his muscled biceps. He had one arm wrapped around your waist, hand pressing along your lower back to keep you close, even as the two of you moved backwards towards the king bed.

He sits down on the edge, slipping his suspenders down his shoulder but left everything else on, palming the tent in his trousers as you carefully stepped out of your stretchy pants. “Come sit on Santa’s lap, princess. Tell me what ya want for Christmas this year.”

You shove his chest forward, causing him to fall back on the bed with a soft bounce. He was surprised at how quickly you had clambered on top of him with your pronounced belly, trapping his lower body under your spread legs on either side of him. He smiles lazily up at you, the way you smirk as you fisted the fuzzy hat on his head and throw it behind you, fingers carding through his curls then snaking down his chest, belly, and resting along the hard tent in his pants.

“Do I get to open my present now, Santa?”

His hands rub up along your bare thighs, over the thick sweater until they grope your swollen breasts under the wooly fabric, making you hiss from the sensitivity. “You know the rules: Ain’t no openin’ before Christmas morning—or until I’m done with ya tight little pussy all wrapped up f’me…”

He wanted to take a picture right here to savor this feeling: how gorgeous you look, heavily pregnant and weighted on top of him in a Christmas sweater and nothing underneath, rolling your hips back and forth, grinding into his bulge while your prominent tummy sticks out even more, glazed eyes hovering on the verge of drunken lust as he knots your sore breasts.

You let out a sharp cry and Joel stops his movements.

“Th-they’re too full,” you whimper, hands gripping his wrists and keeping them still on your tits.

He tuts loudly. “Show Santa where it hurts.”

You cross your hands over your middle and lift the heft of your sweater best you could over your head. Joel helps you get it above your chin and then chuck the thing across the bed. Now with a proper look at you, his hands return to their rightly place over your naked tits.

“Jesus, babydoll. They’re tender and swole.” And they’re a hell of lot bigger than the last time. He continues to knead your swollen mounds in his hands, marveling at how the newly grown fat spills between his fingertips. “Shit, not too long ago I could cover these babes with just my palm.”

“J-Joel—Santa!—not too rough, please! They—I’m—“

He suddenly feels a wet drop escape from your nipple, coating the length of his finger in white. Joel pulls it into his mouth and sucks the sweet milk clean, moaning loudly. “Shit, you got a present for Santa too?”

He sits upright, best he can with your rounded belly. His eyes focus in closely on your tits, his thumb rubbing around the firm pebble of your nipples, which had grown exceedingly dark since the last time he saw them. More pearly drops of your milk ooze, making you sigh. He wastes no time latching his lips on, groaning as his mouth is flooded with your cream. “Fuck yeah, givin’ Santa ya sweet milk n cookies,” he groans, his dick nudging the underside of your belly. “Cookie ain’t done bakin’ yet though.” He rubs over the side of your belly before settling back on your tit and squeezing more into his mouth.

You let out a content breath, already feeling the ache in your breasts lessen as he sucks more liquid into his mouth. ”Santa stuffed me full of his love. Got me all big an’ round like him. Made my tits swell…” you babble, lost in the delicious feel of his warm tongue lapping at your nipple.

It almost surprises you just how gentle he’s being, the way he massages the tender areas, soothing over your pebble with the flat part of his tongue before switching to the other and draining you. You expected those calloused hands to be rough, demanding.

You remember this isn’t the first time he’s had a pregnant woman to tend to.

Joel’s steady warm breath through his nose fans over your chest as you cradle his soft curls. It’s like time has stopped, the urge and neediness pausing as he relaxes, getting lost in the new taste of you. He tilts up and grins, tongue swiping away at his upper lip. “You’re so sweet… fuck me, babygirl, Santa’s found his favorite glass of milk.”

“Santa, my pussy’s aching too,” you pout.

“Gotta see how my cookie is doin.”

He takes one big gulp of your milk again, but doesn’t swallow, holding it in his puffy cheeks. He carefully guides you on your back as he glides down along the edge of the bed, parting your thighs. his nose nudges deep along your slit, inhaling before slotting his puckered lips into your wet heat. You feel a rush of foreign liquid fill your cunt. “Oh—Fuck!”

He sucks it all back down like a mad man, lapping at your sticky folds mixed of breastmilk and your pussy juices. “Got Santa’s special coco mix right here—shit, just drizzle some fuckin’ chocolate syrup over ya naughty pussy—“ he says, two fingers twisting into your cunt and thrusting the juices and milk out right on to his open tongue. “Gonna get Santa all fat on ya milky cunt.”

He kisses your clit before gripping the underside of your thighs and forcing you to take his tongue’s abuse. You mumble praises like “Fuck me Santa!” “Santa’s eating my sweet pussy!” “So generous—Make me cum on Santa’s tongue!” Which makes him rut his cock into the mattress, humming approval into your squishy mound. His sweaty forehead pressing to the under of your belly, your hands unable to grasp anything except the sheets next to you a Joel brings you to your first orgasm very quickly.

When he pulls away, shit eating grin and all, he stands up and flashes his extremely prominent bulge poking through his red pants. “Santa’s in a givin’ mood tonight, Sweets. Thinking’ bout showin’ ya what I’ve got in my big sack.”

You yank his chest back to the bed, his legs dangling over the edge as you straddle your lover once again, fisting his leaking cock out of his pants. He helps you line it up under your dripping pussy before you sink down, the two of you sighing contently.

He would never be able to get over how perfect your pussy felt, almost even tighter now with the baby pressing down on your organs. And your body, so much heavier, carrying two life atop him, only making you inevitably take his cock all the way deep to his balls he rubs your thick thighs as you slowly start bouncing, tits wobbling with each puncture down.

“Fuck yeah—ride Santa’s fat cock, just like that sweetheart—fuckin’ amazing!”

“I—Ive been a naughty girl this year—” you whine, his tip nudging your cervix. His hands were caressing your tits, love handles, belly, all while keeping you on your knees and slamming your weight down on his delicious cock.

“Tell Santa why you’ve been bad.”

“I—I haven’t been loyal — to my husband. Wanted another—wanted more—cock in my creamy pussy!” You feel him twitching excitedly inside you. Your little hands struggle to seek purchase on his chest, the weight of your tummy pushing down on his. Joel’s secure hands find the two of yours, each holding your palms and then interlacing his fingers between yours. With your hands joined, you’re more able to easily glide along his length without the fear of tipping over.

“I got ya, Daddy’s got ya,” he hums, watching you rise and fall, enjoying him more comfortably. “Take what you need.”

“M’ so selfish—wanted Santa’s fat cock all to myself!”

“Fuck yeah you have—such a naughty girl.” He slaps your tithes, making you yelp, walls closing in on him. “Fuck ya like that, don’t you? naughty-naughty-naughty” he taunts, each word punctuated with a sharp spank against your abused boobs, the beautiful red marks of his handprint pairing perfectly with his now pussy soaked pants.

“But you’re bein’ so good to Santa, riding my cock like a slutty angel. Givin’ Santa your sweet milk. Sexy thing like you, Santa’s gonna give ya a gift right here—“ he rubs his palm in fat circles over your navel—“right in ya tummy. Tell me.”

You scream out, riding him harder, flying and slamming back down with wet, obscene sounds filling the air. “Santa fucked a baby in me!” You suddenly convulse around him and cum hard, suffocating his cock with your tight walls.

Joel’s holds your hands through it all, tightly and safely while your head tilts back into ceiling, smiling as the waves of euphoria only his cock could ever bring roll over you. He’s not ready when your hip start swaying again in tight circles, clenching around his cock, drawing your pleasure out. “I can’t wait for Santa to give me another baby next year.”

He nails dig into the backs of your hands, his premature climax forcing his back off the bed and eyes rolling white. Long spurts of his seed fill your cunt, over and over again, punching deep into your womb were it not for the baby already nestled there.

You both pant heavily, the room going quiet once again. Hues of reds and green from the outside flashing Christmas light dance across Joel’s and your sweaty palms, still joined together.

As you’re basking in the glow of your orgasms aftermath, Joel clears his throat. “D’you know your idiot husband told my daughter Santa wasn’t real?’

Joel feels you tense up with anger suddenly. “Shit! What a fucking—who says that to a little girl?? I could punt that fucker.” You spit. Then he feels you relax, giggling. “But he was your idiot brother long before he was my idiot husband.”

You both laugh some more, the little bounces making your baby stir in your belly. You take a deep breath and place a hand over to calm her, hushing her with a soft shhhh under your breath. Joel feels the tiny kicks too, one hand releasing from you to cup the other side of your stomach, sliding until your fingers meet again. He feels the steady little flips in your tummy dissipate.

“You’re going to be such a good Momma,” he breathes silently yet loud enough for you to feel in your heart. You force your eyes to meet his, which are so full of sincerity, it makes your heart skip. You feel the pad of his finger twiddle your wedding ring, the glint twinkling in his eyes.

And you almost forget you’re in your and your husband’s shared bed with another man sheathed deep inside you.

Almost.

It’s quiet. For a very long time.

And then Joel feels the sudden change in your brain translate to the rest of your body, no longer welcoming his intrusion into your life. It’s his least favorite part—the way your fingers twitch against his, eyes going blank, body running cold as if suddenly his touch is foreign to you.

He doesn’t regret telling you—he knows it’s true. But he can’t deal with the guilt in your eyes, not tonight.

He withdraws his hand before you could do it yourself. “You should go down and check on Tommy. Get him ready for bed.” His eyes shift to the side to indicate he wants to get up.

You nod, hoisting your knee off of him. Your chest seizes at the feeling of his wet softening cock slipping out of you, spilling his seed on to his pants, your cold pussy feeling unrightfully empty. Joel sits up and tucks his dick back in his pants, avoiding your eyes. “Need ta get Sarah home,” he grumbles.

He gets up and walks out of your door without another word.

You cover your face, and breathe deeply for a few minutes. Joel’s right, you need to get up, you need to check on Tommy, you need to say goodnight.

You throw your sweater back on and wobble downstairs. Joel’s already changed into a pair of extra jeans, Santa suit all balled up in a trash bag slung over his back. He has Sarah’s sleeping body, covered with his denim jacket, wrapped tightly around him, head nudged safely in his shoulder.

You don’t say anything, just see them out the front door. You stand in the still night air, arms hugging yourself close as Joel buckles his daughter in his truck. He gives you one last wave, and you return the gesture, before he’s revving up and backing out of the driveway, leaving you alone on your porch.

- - - -

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196 notes · View notes

bluevxnus · 2 days

Text

But Daddy I Love Him

dbf!joel x f!reader

summary: You've been seeing Joel for a while now, when your dad first introduced you to him, you knew you both could never get enough. But when your dad finds out, things take a turn.

warnings: piv (wrap it up), oral f!receiving, fluff, description of what reader wears, angst

authors note: hey folks! when i first heard this song on Taylor's new album I just KNEW I had to write about it! and this is the idea I had in mind, I hope you all enjoy!

(I definitely recommend listening to the song while reading!)

now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned

screaming "but daddy I love him!"

"I'm having his baby"

no I'm not but you should see your faces.

The warm, tingly feeling of his rough calloused hands sliding along the inside of your thigh making you whimper as his hand slowly makes it way between your legs.

The rough pull of his hair as he collides his drooling mouth with your clit. Licking and sucking like a feral animal devouring its meal.

"Joel." You moan when he inserts his tongue into your seeping cunt. Pushing deeper and deeper until your back arches off the bed.

"Yeah, just like that baby." The deep rumble of his voice vibrates along your pussy and only makes the sensation better. Licking and sucking your cunt until you simply can't hold it any longer and let go. The rush of your orgasm makes him physically eat up your whole pussy. Making sure there are no drops wasted.

Your back finally hitting the bed, he rises from between your legs and he already looks fucked. The dampness from your arousal has drenched his beard and face. His messy hair from all the pulling and tugging you've done only seems to have gotten worse.

He crawls up your body with a big grin and instantly meets your face with his lips. You moan into his mouth as he begins to undo his jeans. You giggle as the zipper gets stuck and decide to help him out.

You pull sharply on the zipper and it instantly goes down. He smiles at you as he removes his pants and his boxers. Your eyes widen at the size of him. You've imagined this moment for years and you've know that he'd be big, but you never knew that he'd be this big.

He crawls back up your body as your back hits the bed once more.

When you first met Joel, you were only a teenager with a wide range of imagination. He was handsome, had the sexiest voice you've ever heard, he was kind, etc. But one thing about him just didn't seem right.

Sometimes you would casually flirt with him because it was funny and only a joke. Well, not for you. He would laugh it off and tell you to stop and then you would. The amount of control he had over you was insane. More than your dad. You would physically do anything for Joel. Sometimes you noticed that some of your flirting did actually bother him.

Once, you two were in a store and the cashier had thought that Joel was your father. He laughed it off and told the lady that you weren't and you both left the store. But you couldn't leave it at that of course, so when you walked out, Joel asked you to wait in the car while he threw something out and you simply replied with "Yes, daddy."

That seemed to do a number for him. He stopped in his tracks as he watched you walk toward his truck. The car ride home was silent. You tried to make small talk with him but he'd only grunt in return.

Ever since that day, he's been off. So earlier today, you decided that should change. And now here you are, ass naked with Joel Miller.

His nose brushes against yours as he slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the intrusion. "You're so gorgeous darlin'." You moan as he slowly begins to move.

You run your nails alone his back as he kissed you along your jawline. His movements hit each spot inside you just right. Stretching you out perfectly.

His grunts only spur you on as he begins to speed up his thrusts. You moan as his tongue collides with yours. His hands moving down your fragile frame as he begins to circle your clit.

Running your hands along his arms, back, neck. You can feel every strong muscle working its hardest. You pull and tug his hair until he's grunting and panting in your mouth.

His fingers push down on your clit harder and you arch your back and moan aloud when your orgasm washes over you. His thrusts begin to go faster as his hips come to a stutter. You grin when you feel his hot seed seeping into you.

He lays his head on your shoulder as you look down at his exhausted state and kiss his forehead. He smiles softly and kisses your lips. You wrap your small arms along his head as he wraps his strong arms around your small body.

You both cuddle up and stay like that for a while. Yearning for each others love as the time passes by slowly.

Your rudely awaken to a slam of your bedroom door. You quickly sit up and cover yourself with your blanket. When you see who it is, your eyes begin to water as your heart stops. It's your dad.

Joel sits up and his eyes squint at the bright light. When he sees your father standing there, he freezes.

"What the fuck?" Your dad roars as he walks in. Joel begins to pick up his boxers as he quickly puts them on.

"Joel?" He looks up at your dad as he tries to grab his jeans. "You fucked my daughter?" He quickly puts on his pants, leaving them unbuttoned. Joel looks at you. His eyes softening when he sees that your crying.

"Fucking answer me!" He looks back at your dad and quickly nods. Your dad throws his hands in the air and grabs onto Joel's arm. Yanking him out of your room.

You quickly get out of bed and grab your dress, putting it on but not buttoning it up. "Dad! Where the fuck are you taking him?" You scream as you run after them. He throws Joel outside and pushes him.

"Joel, care to explain what the fuck you were doing?" Joel only puts his hands in front of him. "You can't even talk to your best bud huh? U wonder why that is, oh maybe because you were messing with my very young daughter." Joel shakes his head as he backs up.

"Now, we both had consent for this. I didn't force her into doin somethin she didn't wanna do." Your dad begins to laugh.

"As if that makes this any better Joel." Tears flood your face.

"Dad stop! He didn't do anything wrong. Please."

Your dad looks furious. He shakes his head and looks back at Joel. He looks at you with sad eyes and only nods to you as a reassurance that it's going to be okay.

"Go." You turn to face your dad as he looks at Joel." "What? Dad no. He can't just leave"

"Well that's what I'm telling him to do isn't it." You look at Joel as he slowly backs away to his truck. "Dad?" You begin to panic. You hear the truck door open and close.

He begins to back away and looks at your dad. His truck backs off the driveway and that's when you start to sprint after him. Holding your dress up as you begin running. Your bare feet hitting the rough pavement. Tears flying from your eyes. Screaming and crying as you see your Joel leaving you. Forever.

Your pace begins to slow as you realize that he's not coming back. Just disappearing into nothing. You stare at his truck as you hear your dads pants coming up behind you. He puts his hand on your back but your too distraught to take it off.

"But Daddy, I loved him."

tags!!

@morallyinept @mermaidgirl30 @rav3n-pascal22 @mountainsandmayhem @amyispxnk @pinkcrystal44 @guelyury @iamsherloocked @itsokbbygrl @heartpascalispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @brittmb115 @kotourasan123 @simplewanderer @tupelomiss @heartramen @sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts

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bluevxnus · 3 days

Text

The Farmer's Daughter 15

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Walter sighs as he shuts the hood of the truck. He tuts and faces you, keeping his hand on the metal, his other going to his hip. He looks at you then the sky behind you. The rain has stirred the scent of mud and grass and left a glaze over everything.

“You’re lucky the thing didn’t blow up in your face,” he says. “Maybe the rain saved you.”

“Oh, I... didn’t know,” you utter nervously. “Timothy said it was fine--”

“Yeah, well, shows how much he knows,” Walter stands straight and pushes back his curls, “he’s not ready. He’s too young. I’ll make sure he learns. Be sad if he through away all your dad’s hard work, huh?”

“Y-yeah, I guess,” you swallow. His words remind you of the imbalance. You need him. That’s the reality that brought you all the way up here.

“Right, well, I’ll deal with it later. I got some chains I can use to get it up to the house but we should head into town then go see your mother. Make sure she isn’t worried sick,” he steps towards you and brings his hand up under your chin. You fight not to shy away, “what were you thinking? Putting yourself in danger like that?”

“I... I had to come see you--”

He smiles, “that’s sweet but I’d rather you wait and have you in one piece, sweetheart.”

You nod into his hand and wince as he leans in. His thumb rubs your chin as he tilts your head up and he presses his lips to yours. Your surprised by his gentleness, though his beard grazes your roughly. You let him kiss you as he swoops an arm around to wrap you up.

When he parts, your breathless and dizzy. His eyes gleam down at you, “wife,” he rasps out, “we’re almost there.”

The shift in his mood puts you off. It’s just like back in the kitchen, one moment he’s terse and short, almost disappointed, the next he’s almost delicate and content. He releases you and takes you by the hand. You follow him back up towards the house.

You wait outside as he runs in to get his keys. As he comes back out, you open the door of the truck and brace the interior. You put your foot on the small metal step to pull yourself up and gasp as you’re lifted from behind. Walter helps you into the seat and you wriggle free with a meek ‘thank you’.

He kisses your cheek before he shuts the door. You focus on buckling the belt as he rounds the front of the truck. He climbs into the driver’s side and turns the engine. He sets off, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the corner of your seat.

You sit quietly, watching the hills roll by. This is it. This is your life. You’re going to married and a wife and you’re going to be tied to this man and these lands forever. You never really thought it out, you just expected life to unfold before you.

He pulls up to the bank and turns into the lot. He steers into one of the angled spots and kills the engine. You tap your fingers on your legs before you regain your bearings. As he opens his door, you do the same. You get out, hopping down with a small oof. You catch yourself on the door.

Walt stomps around, “hey, hey, careful. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I’m fine,” you smile, “really, I can manage.”

“I just don’t want you twisting your ankle,” he says.

“Um, okay, all good,” you show him your foot, “really.”

He stares at you. His cheek ticks. He takes your hand and shuts the passenger door. He tugs you away towards the front of the building. As you follow the sidewalk down to the entrance, you pass a few other curious pedestrians. You don’t miss there gazes and the low whispers between them.

You go inside and find the bank empty. Walter drags you to the counter and taps the bell on it. You stand on your toes to see over the high desk and see a head pop out of a back office. The woman looks unimpressed as she goes to bang on the door next to hers, “customers.”

She quickly retreats as you wait. The next door opens and another woman emerges. She’s taller than the other one, slimmer too. She struts over as she tugs straight the collar of her blouse. Her pretty pink lipstick clings to one lip as the other is faded to its natural hue.

“Hello, folks, how can I help you today.”

“I’d like to speak with an advisor about a mortgage,” Walter says as he lets go of your hand, instead hovering his large one along your lower back.

“That’s exciting,” she chimes, “you and... I didn’t know you married?”

“Not yet,” Walter exhales, “anyway, do you got someone available? I don’t really have time to sit around.”

“Sure, sure, Pete should be able to help you out. I’ll just take you to an office.”

The woman, Marska, comes around the desk and waves you down the hall. She takes you into an office and leaves you there. You and Walter lower yourself into the stiff chairs. He reaches between to offer his hand. You take it and nervously stare at the empty desk.

There’s a tap on the doorframe and a man enters. Pete. You’ve seen him before when you came to the bank with your mother.

“Morning,” he says as he swaggers around to sit behind the desk, “lovely to see you folks bright and early.” He offers his hand across the desk and Walter reluctantly lets go of yours to shake it. Pete looks at you and you hesitantly shake his hand. The man beside you shifts and huffs. “So, we’re looking into a mortgage, huh?”

The manager smiles as he leans back nonchalantly in his chair. He looks between you and Walter, “gone and snagged yourself a young one, huh, Marshall?”

Walter growls and crosses his arms, “I have a down payment.”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Pete rolls his chair closer to the desk, “just making some small chat. Big news, the two of you.”

“Is it?” Walter challenges.

“Marriage is a big deal, isn’t it?” Peter chuckles nervously.

“You would know,” Walter sneers as he sniffs, “you got something on your cheek.”

You only notice at the mention of it. Your eyes retreat from the window to Pete’s face, the smear of pink along his cheek. You look away, embarrassed for him. It must be true what they say about him and Marska.

“Uh, thanks,” Pete wipes his face with his sleeve, “let’s just jump in then.” He puts his hands over the keyboard and clears his throat. You can see a trickle of sweat along his hairline as Walter’s disapproval burns through the small office.

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