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#Joel Miller
gutsby · 12 hours
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Ruined!
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.
Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.
Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.
Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse
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Surely he was hurting you now.
Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.
At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.
He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.
Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:
“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”
Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.
Crying, too.
Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.
“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”
Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.
Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.
Almost.
He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.
Almost.
“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”
And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.
“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.
Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.
Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.
He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.
“SON OF A—”
“—good girl.”
You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.
“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.
“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.
“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”
Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.
“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.
Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,
“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”
You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.
“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”
Probably forever.
“Good.”
You knew he liked it that way.
You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.
First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.
“Shit,” you whimpered.
Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.
“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.
Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.
“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.
His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.
And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.
“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”
It was.
More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.
He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’
Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.
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I can fix him (no really I can)
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skbeaumont · 3 days
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Five for Five | Joel x Reader Oneshot
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“I ain’t stupid.” His tone is heavy now, words grating out of his throat like rusty razor blades. “Last I checked, we had one hundred and two. There’s ninety-seven here. That’s five missing.”
Summary: It was probably a stupid idea to trade five ration cards for a tiny bottle of perfume, and it's not surprising that Joel is angry, but you think it might just be worth it. Tags/warnings: fem reader, smut, dubcon, spanking, punishment, dom!Joel, sub!reader, first time, oral (m receiving), fingering, pet names, unprotected p in v, aftercare. Word Count: 4k
A/N: Forgive me father for I have sinned. This is pure filth. Please mind the tags/warnings.
“Where are the rest?”
Joel’s voice cuts through you as soon as you step inside the apartment. It’s late, already dark out, and the dangerous edge to his words makes you jump as you step inside, shoulders aching, feet numb from the long walk back home through the QZ.
“Jesus fuck, Joel. What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t answer, just holds up his hand and shakes the stack of ration cards that are clutched in his fist. The only light is coming from the wonky reading lamp in the corner and it casts an amber glow over the apartment and Joel’s stern face.
“I said,” his voice is steady, clear, but you can already hear the frustration that’s buried underneath it, the anger that’s so quick to rise in him threatening to bubble over, “where are the rest?”
“They should all be there,” you reply, letting your eyes fall down to your boots, toeing them off so that you don’t have to look at his face.
“Well, they ain’t.” He takes a step toward you, his own boots heavy on the worn linoleum floor. “And I wanna know where they are.”
“Did you check under the floor?”
Of course he’s checked under the floor, and of course they aren’t there, because last night you took a handful – five, max – and traded them for a tiny bottle of perfume that’s now stuffed under your mattress. Joel rarely checks the ration cards – he lets you deal with that side of the dodgy business you’ve been running together for the last year and a half – so you’d thought you could get away with it. That he wouldn’t notice. But this is Joel, and he’s noticed.
“I ain’t stupid.” His tone is heavy now, words grating out of his throat like rusty razor blades. “Last I checked, we had one hundred and two. There’s ninety-seven here. That’s five missing.”
With this last he slams the pile down on the kitchen side next to you, stepping right up into your space so that you feel his breath – hot and tinged with the scent of cheap bourbon – on the side of your face. You’ve seen him angry so many times, but it’s never been directed at you before, and you’re starting to understand why most people avoid his gaze in corridors, why men cross the street when they see him coming. 
“Did you miscount?” You ask, fighting to keep your voice level, light.
“Did I miscount?” He repeats, slow, each word enunciated like it’s a full sentence on its own, and you realise it was probably the worst thing you could have said.
His fingers are hot on your chin when he grabs it, tilting your reluctant face up, dragging your eyeline to meet his. His face is a sight to behold: eyebrows furrowed, deep groves carved out in the lines that surround them, his jaw tense, a muscle twitching as he grinds his teeth. There’s danger in his eyes; a fire behind them that burns as he stares down at you.
“No, I didn’t miscount.” He spits the last word out, eyes tracing the blush that’s crawling up your throat, the way your eyes dart away from his, the flicker of your pulse – fast, rising – in your throat. The trace of the misdirection, the lie, so obvious.
He can read you like a book, always could. But you’re stubborn. You’re not giving anything away if you don’t have to. Those cards are yours as much as they’re his, and this one thing you’ve allowed yourself in eighteen months is worth the way his fingertips are digging into the sides of your face.
“What did you trade ‘em for?” He asks.
“Fuck you.”
He laughs at this, lets your face go and takes a single step back, swings his arm to his side and lets it carry him into a half turn. You slump back against the door, peeling paint sticking uncomfortably to your back. But it’s a short-lived reprieve.
“Fuck me?” He repeats, turning back to you. “After all I’ve done for you, all the shit I’ve taken for you-”
“I didn’t ask you to!” Your voice is shrill compared to his gruff curses, but you continue, adrenaline spiking, “And you’ve been the cause of at least half of that shit, Joel. Don’t make out like you’re some knight in shining armour when we both know the truth!”
The truth: that he’s brutal, feared by almost everyone in the QZ;  that people only trade with the two of you because of your hard work and negotiation skills. Joel’s good for enforcing things, for smuggling things in and out, and for sending a message when anything goes wrong, but he’s also a broken man whose anger has got him into more than a few scrapes that you’ve had to get him out of with nothing more than your sharp tongue and quick thinking.
He lets you rally this outburst at him, doesn’t blink in the face of it, until you’ve finished. Then he’s striding back to you, slamming the hand holding the cards hard against the door behind you. It makes you flinch away but his other hand’s back on your jaw, grip tighter this time, forcing you to look up at him.
“Where are the rest?” He repeats, brandishing the ration cards so that they’re inches from your face.
“They’re mine as much as they’re yours.” You say, quietly defiant despite the way your voice shakes.
“You trade them?”
“What does it matter?”
“Nuh-uh,” He twists his hand, turns your face away so that you’re forced to look to the side instead of into his face and he can say the next words into your ear. “This ain’t how this works. I ask the questions, you answer ‘em. Did. You. Trade. Them?”
His face is so close to yours now that you can feel spit landing on your cheek as he speaks, his breath hot in your ear. It shouldn’t turn you on, but it does. You can feel yourself getting wet, slick pooling unbidden between your thighs. It’s hard to ignore a man like Joel, but it’s even harder to get close to him. You don’t think he’s ever been so near to you before, not even when you’ve tended each other’s wounds after a run went south.
You’ve always wanted him to; held a secret flame that’s grown brighter and hotter over the last few months. There’s something undeniably attractive about Joel. The way he moves, the quiet confidence he exudes and the brutal, coiled power of him. You’ve watched him set his fist into another man’s jaw and wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of his temper, his passion.
Now, with his face so close to yours, his thick fingers digging into your jaw, you feel yourself sinking into it, relaxing despite the tension of the situation. You want this, you want his anger and razor-sharp focus. It’s overwhelming in the best way, and you feel tears burning at your lower lashline.
“Yes. I traded them.”
A tear slides down you face and Joel’s eyes trace its path as it glides over your check, pooling in the corner of your mouth, salty and unrepentant.
“What for?”
“Perfume.”
He laughs again, but this laugh is full of derision, not mirth. It’s a punch of a laugh, straight from his chest, catching in his throat and distorting into a growl that sends a shiver up your spine and a bolt of lightning through your cunt.
“Perfume.” He repeats, turning your face in his hand so that you’re looking at him again.
His pupils are blown wide, his face a mask of fury and something else that has you pressing your thighs together, seeking friction. He notices you doing it, lets his eyes follow the movement of your hips, the desperate, needy breaths you’re sucking in. He grins, teeth bared.
“And what, exactly, do you need perfume for?” He asks, not giving you time to answer before he’s bending down and pressing his nose into the side of your neck, inhaling deeply, stubble scratching your throat. “Smell sweet enough to me already.”
“Joel, please,” you say, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for, because he’s licking a thick stripe up the side of your throat and you think if he stops you might scream.
“Buy it for those boys I see sniffing around you sometimes? Huh?” He asks, drawing back from you and shaking your face in his hand roughly. “Knew you were nothing but a fucking slut.”
“I just- I wanted something nice.” You try to explain, the words catching in your throat as he slides one thick thigh between yours.
“Something nice? What makes you think you deserve something nice, hmm? Ain’t nothing nice in this place, you should know that as well as I do.”
And you do, God knows you do. The QZ is dark and twisted and fucking soul-crushing, but you’d wanted the perfume, wanted it with a deep yearning that matches the way you want Joel to keep going now, to push you and punish you and take what he wants.
“I think you need to learn a lesson, baby.”
You’re nodding into his hand, tears rolling down your face, splashing onto his thick fingers. He lets go of your jaw, takes you by the wrist and pulls you into the room, toward the sofa, over his knee when he sits. Your stomach is pressed into his thighs, face buried in the dirty sofa cushion and he’s got one hand pressing into your spine, the other searching out the button of your jeans. He undoes it, wastes no time in dragging the worn denim down your shaking thighs.
“You’re gonna lie there and take it, you hear me?” He says, splaying a hand over your bare ass cheek, moving the line of your knickers out of the way so that he can squeeze the meat of you, fingers dipping between your thighs, finding the slick liquid that’s leaking from you.
“Jesus Christ, you’re soaked already. Fuckin’ filthy little thing, aren’t you?” His accent is somehow thickening, vowels lengthening, the twang of his consonants increasing.
“I asked you a question.” He says when you don’t immediately reply, and you nod your head, wipe your wet eyes against the sofa.
“Count for me.” He says, and before you can take a breath to prepare, his hand is coming down sharply on you.
The sting is sharp; delicious.
“Count.” He hisses, and you whisper a faint one, breaking off into a moan when he lets his fingers graze the side of your puffy lips.
You wish you could see his expression, see if this is affecting him as much as its affecting you, if he’s watching with something like ecstasy on his handsome, haunting features.
The second smack is harder than the first, sharper and sweeter for it. It makes you jerk against him but he’s holding you down firmly with one solid hand in the middle of your back, pressing you into his thighs, into his lap. The denim of his jeans is rough against your bare stomach, scratching you skin where your shirt’s risen up. The third slap makes you yelp, harder again, but he soothes it immediately with his palm, rubs the flesh of your ass.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Enjoying being bent over my lap and spanked like the dirty whore y’are, huh?”
You can’t believe the filth that’s dripping from his lips. Sure, he curses plenty, and you’ve heard him cuss out entire rooms full of angry men, but this is something else entirely. This is animalistic and derogatory and indecent. And God help you, its sending rushes of hot liquid practically gushing down your thighs.
“Be so easy to slide myself inside you, you’re so goddamn wet.” He says as he sends another harsh slap onto your ass. “Open you up and press myself inside this soaking cunt, hmm? Bet you’d let me, too, let me do fucking anything to you.”
“Yes, Joel, please, anything.”
His third laugh of the afternoon is throaty and coarse, full of self-indulgence. It makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, makes you clench your thighs together and grind your teeth to stop you from crying out again.
“You gonna come like this, baby?” He asks, sliding his hand over the meat of your ass, down between your thighs to press at your entrance, slipping beneath your ruined underwear. “Come on my lap like the dirty fucking slut I know you are?”
The sweet sting as he pushes two thick fingers inside you almost pushes you over the edge there and then, but you bite into your lip – probably drawing blood, but you’re too distracted to notice. He curls his fingers, drags the pads of them over the soft flesh inside you, seeking out that spot that makes you almost black out, pleasure ratcheting up so suddenly that you gasp, coming hard in his lap, muscles shaking and contracting, cunt squeezing his fingers tight.
“There she is,” He hisses, curling them again, chasing you as you shift against him, overstimulated.
How is he so good at this? You’ve never seen him with anyone – he’s always given the impression that he has no interest in sex, in relationships, friendships, even. But the expert way that he’s playing your body like an instrument, chasing your moans and gasps like they’re the air he needs to stay alive, tells a completely different story. And when you jerk in his grip and he presses you harder against him, shifting on the sofa, there’s suddenly a very clear indication of just how much of an affect this is having on him, too.
“Shit,” His voice is ragged now: This outburst isn’t controlled in the way that the rest of the curses he’s been spewing into your ears have been. It’s unexpected and bitten back behind a grunt as your hip comes into contact with his cock – a solid, hot weight that fills the front of his jeans, pressing the button of his flies into you, his pocket a line of stitches on your stomach.
The next smack is all the harder for the tiny huff of a giggle you let out, which turns quickly into a hiss of pain when his palm comes down hard against you.
“Concentrate,” He warns when you don’t immediately count the spank aloud. “’m teaching you a fuckin’ lesson, here, remember?”
“Four.” You say, pressing your face harder into the cushion, rolling your hips just slightly so that his cock twitches against your stomach.
“Five for five.” He says, soothing your heated flesh with the palm of his hand before bringing it down one final time. “Five. Think you’ve learnt your lesson?”
You twist round in his lap, eyes dancing when you see the flush that’s tinted his cheeks, the way his gaze is lingering on the swell of your ass cheek in his hand, perspiration beading on his heavy brow.
“I don’t know, Joel, do you?” You say, voice teasing, and he snaps his eyes up to your face as he hisses through clenched teeth.
“Fuckin’ mouth on you, you insolent little slut,” he curses, fisting the collar of your shirt and pulling you upright, opening his legs so that you slide between them onto the cold lino floor.
“Think we can find a better use for it, hmm?” He leans back against the couch, pops the first button on his jeans. Your eyes follow the movement hungrily, unable to look away as he slide the zip down painfully slowly, tooth by tooth, the clicks loud in the silent apartment.
He doesn’t take the jeans off, just pushes them far enough down his thighs that he can fist his cock where it sits, heavy and thick, in his underwear. There’s a dark stain at the tip that makes your mouth water, and when he drags his briefs down, too, you lick your lips greedily.
He’s painfully hard – head flushed a deep red, veins standing out boldly against his thick shaft. There’s a thatch of dark hair at the base, and his balls are heavy and full when he tucks the waistband of his briefs underneath them.
He strokes himself lazily a few times and you let yourself look up to his face. His eyes are dark, pupils eating into the deep brown irises, brows furrowed slightly. The amber light of the lamp is casting his face partly in shadow and it only accentuates the strong, curved line of his nose, the deep creases that lines his eyes and forehead. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists, his gaze so sharp and focused it makes you dizzy.
“C’mon then,” he says, running a hot hand up your jaw to grip the back of your neck, pulling you in towards him. “I got no doubt you know exactly what you’re doing here.”
The scent of him is musky and something distinctly masculine, and you bury your nose in the thick hair at the base of him, place a heated kiss to the side of one thigh. This alone make him moan, a deep, throaty sound that lights you up from the inside.
You press your lips to the tip of him, flick your tongue out to kitten lick at the slit.
“Fuck,” he curses.
He’s sensitive. When you wrap a hand around the base of his cock and place your lips around him he hisses, fingers tightening their grip in your hair, free hand fisting the loose cover of the worn couch. You take him further in, suck your cheeks in to caress him, work your tongue over the delicate ridge at the head of his cock. He tastes like salt and sweat and something distinctly Joel, masculine and heady. When he hits the back of your throat you try not to gag, try to swallow him down, throat contracting around him so that he groans and curses.
“Jesus Christ, baby. Your mouth is fuckin’ filthy.”
You grin around his cock, work your hand over the part of him that won’t fit, then pull back and lick one long strip up his shaft, letting your tongue follow one of the thick veins. He presses himself back into your mouth, tightens his grip on the back of your neck and raises his hips off the sofa.
“You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth, baby?” He asks, and you nod, feel hot tears prickling in your eyes when he starts moving, dragging his hips back and then forward, forcing his cock into your mouth, down your throat so that you feel like you’re choking, like all that exists is Joel and his hard cock, his breathy moans and filthy mouth.
“Got such a clever fuckin’ mouth, baby. Just needed to find a way to put it to good use- shit, yeah, that’s it.” He pushes you down once more, groans as he bottoms out on your throat, then releases the back of your neck so that you can pull back.
You’re a mess, tears rolling down your face, saliva pooling in your mouth and joining your lips with Joel’s cock in long strings. Joel’s looking down at you with fire in his eyes, his dark gaze flicking from your mouth to your eyes to the open buttons of your shirt and the swell of your ass.
“Get up,” He says, wrapping his hand around your upper arm and pulling you to your feet.
Before you’ve time to get your balance he’s bending you over, forcing you onto your hands and knees on the sofa. He lines himself up behind you, drags the blunt head of his cock through your soaking folds and presses himself inside your cunt.
The stretch is intense. You squeeze your eyes shut, press yourself back against him as he inches inside. He pauses for a split second when he’s sheathed himself fully inside, then pulls out and begins a punishing pace, fucking you into the sofa, his hands gripping your hips so hard you’re sure he’ll leave marks in the shape of his fingertips.
“Pussy’s gripping me so fuckin’ tight, darlin’” He says, and something in your chest swells at the sound of ‘darlin’’ rolling off his tongue like that, full of something that’s dangerously close to fondness.
He’s a cacophony of contradictions, greedy hands gripping your hips possessively, then smoothing up your back under your shirt before sliding back down to slap the soft flesh of your ass. His thrusts are hard and intense, cock hitting that spot inside you that makes electricity jolt in your stomach with each movement, but then he bends over you, slows his hips so that he can kiss the skin of your throat. His voice – deep, husky, reverberating in his chest – keeps up a filthy chorus that has you whimpering into the couch, but he’s praising you, offering you gentle encouragement, his words warm and dirty and entirely overwhelming.
Being so good for me, baby, pussy’s so fuckin’ wet and tight around me. Can feel you getting close, you gonna come like this, huh? With my cock buried deep inside this pretty little cunt?
Without waiting for an answer he wraps an arm around you and finds your clit with two of his thick fingers. He starts rubbing confident circles over it, bringing you closer and closer to your inevitable climax. You grip his arm with your fist; fingernails digging into hard muscle.
Then suddenly you’re coming apart, white noise blocking out the sound of his hips slapping into yours and his voice and the low level hubbub of the other apartments, until there’s nothing left but your pleasure and his cock and his clever fingers, his nose pressed into your throat, teeth nipping the tendons there.
The world fades back into existence as you come down, muscles jolting. You feel yourself clenching around him with the aftershocks. Joel gasps into your neck, squeezes your tits over your shirt.
“Fuck, just like that, gonna come in this sweet cunt. Shit, that’s it.” His thrusts falter, hips slamming into yours.
You feel him twitch inside you as he comes, ropes of hot cum painting the inside of you, his stuttering breath at your ear.
You stay as you are for a moment, both gasping for breath, hearts hammering in your chests. His embrace is suddenly tender, muscles shifting as he relaxes against you. You don’t say anything, but he presses a kiss to the side of your neck, and that simple gesture opens a floodgate in your chest.
He pulls out of you but keeps his arm around you, guides you both down to lie on the couch, your back pressed to his front. The light in the apartment feels different than it did earlier, the orange hue warmer, kinder than it was.
Joel peppers kisses along the back of your neck and over each shoulder, his strong arm keeping you firmly against him. He wraps a thick thigh over both of yours and tightens it, anchoring you in place. You sigh in contentment, head quieter than it’s been for months, years, possibly.
“I didn’t hurt you?” He says into your hair, voice low.
“No, Joel.”
“You sure? I’m sorry if I was too rough. I don’t- I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I liked it, Joel.”
He chuckles darkly, hooks his chin over your shoulder and teases the skin under your ear with his teeth.
“Fuckin’ filthy, aren’t you? Always knew you were.” He presses his nose to your neck, inhales deeply. “Perfume’s nice, by the way.”
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hellishjoel · 1 day
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chokehold
1.6k / pairing: tattoo artist daddy dom!joel miller x sub f!reader
series masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog | ko-fi
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chapter summary: Joel teaches you how to face fuck. 
chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, unspecified age gap, established relationship, reader is described to have hair and is able-bodied (but otherwise, unspecified), swearing, dirty talk, smut, lots of pet names (sweetheart, angel, little bunny, etc.), dacryphilia (kink = getting aroused by tears), dom/sub dynamics, innocence kink, praise kink, degradation kink, daddy kink, face fucking/oral (m!receiving), size kink
A/N:  very lightly edited, but I wanted to give a little love to joel and little bunny since the third chapter is taking me some extra time! divider is by @firefly-graphics! and always a thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for reading this over and endless encouragement <3
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Joel’s eyes roll to the back of his head, slow and steady, because that’s just the pace you’re taking him. 
Facefucking is still experimental to you. He’s your first partner, and you’re nervous to impress. 
What you don’t know is that Joel would never judge your inexperience. All sexual pleasures involve trust, praise, and a little direction.
Joel stokes your hair affectionately, growing more possessive as he gently guides your mouth up and down his thick length. 
You can feel the power shift as your knees dig into the floor, eyes hesitantly meeting his while you try to take more of his shaft. You want more, you’re willing to push your limits. 
Joel seems to sense your loss of inhibitions, your twinkling eyes meeting his whiskey ones. 
“Want me to use that pretty little mouth of yours?” Joel’s words vibrate through the room. He pulls his cock from your lips, smearing his tip from one corner of your mouth to the other as you catch a breath. His warm pre-cum slips onto your tongue, and all you crave is more. 
Watching you desperately try to get him past your parted lips again is enough to force out a dark, low chuckle. 
“Wanna hear y’say it, baby.” 
Your impatient whine and eager hands on the back of his thighs make you beg, “Please, Joel,” in that wrecked voice that he loves so much. 
Joel presses his hips forward once more, watching his tip slip past your puckered lips and back into the hot heat of your mouth. “Yeah, right where I belong, huh, baby? Right where that cock belongs.” Joel’s hand comes to cradle your face, tracing the bulge of his length against your cheek with a sinister smirk. 
The further he pushes on, your tells start to show. He admires the way your eyelashes flutter, gagging and coughing around him but insistent not to let yourself off. A stray tear slips down your cheek. He collects it with his thumb and brings it past his lips, tasting what you give him. 
“Even your tears taste pretty, sweetheart,” he mutters predatorily, watching as your eyes blow wide, shyly moaning against his length. 
“When it gets to be too much, try to stay on. Swallow around me,” Joel gently nods his head. “Go on.” 
You obey, swallowing around the thick trunk of his cock, throat feeling a little looser now. You’re oh so willing to take on the discomfort just to please him. Anything for Joel, because he’d do anything for you. 
As his hips pick up a lazy pace, Joel encourages you to drop your hands from the safety blanket of his thighs. Like the good girl you are, you ease them to the base of your spine and lay one wrist over the other. He’s tied you up in that position more times than he can count, allowing Joel to take control and use you as he pleases. Such a good fucking girl. 
Tears pool along the top of your cheeks, the sight of glassy eyes igniting a fire deep in his belly. The overflow of saliva trickles out along the corners of your mouth, pooling down to his length and soaking the coarse hair on his balls. 
Joel watches as you shift anxiously on your knees, eyes pleading because somehow you want more. 
“Oh, honey,” he drapes in a degrading tone, stroking your hair away from your wet face and letting you catch a breath as his hips halt. “Need more, don’t’cha, doll?” He drawls, cooing softly as you lay your head against his thigh. Your orbs lazily look to him and nod weakly, still measly sucking on his tip. 
You bravely flick your tongue along his tip’s sensitive slit, toying at the idea of getting a rise out of Joel. 
A hiss is released past his clenched teeth, his whiskey eyes turning wild. And then you do it again. 
Joel’s hips jerk like that of a bucking bull. His hand in your hair turns to a fist, causing you to clench your eyes closed at the scorching prickle along your scalp. Joel scoffs as you fucking moan against him. 
His grin turns wicked, twisted at the thought of you enjoying some rough love. 
“Fuckin’ naughty, aren’t ya, little bunny? Yeah, bein’ a damn brat,” he chastises, watching as you frown around his tip and sucking it insistently. “Think m’gonna have t’finish deep down that pretty throat of yours, make ya choke on it,” he remarks as he repositions your head with a newfound need to punish.
Joel gathers your hair into two sets of pigtails, fisting them between his large palms. He watches you struggle to stay upright and drags you into position. “Keep that cock in your mouth, don’t let it go, sweetheart,” he gripes as you struggle to maintain him. It almost feels like a twisted game the way he nearly slips loose from your heat. 
Your mouth was full, jaw aching for a break that was nowhere in sight. Your fingers intertwine to keep them locked at the very base of your spine, whining nonsense against his cock. Soaking wet and dripping onto the hardwood, your pussy clenches around the ghost of what is currently occupying your mouth. 
You wanted to touch yourself so fucking bad. The self-discipline it took to keep your hands together makes your stomach churn. Your pearl twitches with enthusiasm, drenched in your own arousal. 
The muscles in your thighs are tight, your chest heaving and causing your bare breasts to rise and fall at a quickened rate. The overflowing spit that drips down from his balls lands on your chest. Joel can’t seem to stop staring at the gleam. 
Your nose brushes against his thick pubic hair as he buries your face against the base of his stomach, and you sputter up a cough. Lungs squeezing, throat tightening, you will yourself to swallow around him and stay right where you are. I’m yours, Joel. Please, take me, use me. 
“Fuck,’ he growls upon yanking you off his cock, smirking widely as you gasp for lost breaths. “Love that goddamn throat,” Joel mutters before reaching past you and pulling your hands to the front of his thighs, which quickly form a home for you. It’s grounding, to feel him, to feel his blood pumping through his body, and etch mine on the inside of his upper thigh mindlessly. 
“Got me so close, honey,” he starts, and you’re already eagerly nodding. Joel brings his thumb to your throat and slowly circles one spot against the column of your flesh. “Wanna feel myself right here, think you can do that, sweetheart?” 
Your eyes soften at the depth he wishes to go, but you’d do anything for him. You nod shyly and drop your jaw, flattening your tongue just for him. Always for him. 
Joel’s pace is gentle at first, working up a rhythm that has your throat molding perfectly around him. You gag each time he thrusts all the way, knowing when to swallow and when to breathe, Joel has taught you this new erotic art. 
The saliva dripping down to the base of his cock greets your chin repeatedly. You hollow your cheeks around him, and he moans naughty filth. 
“Such a pretty slut for this cock, make me feel so fuckin’ good- god damn,” Joel pauses with his length fully down your tight throat, grinding himself against your mouth as you clench your eyes close and gag. Joel places his thumb on that sacred spot against your neck, and he can feel his tip bulging against the column of your throat. You’re so fucking full of him, and it’s enough to make him spill. 
The hold he has on your hair tightens, scalp prickling as you cry out along his length. Salt bitters your tongue, weakly swallowing back load after load of his warm, thick finish. You swallow around his length and moan lowly, all muffled and messy for him as he crashes harshly through his own concocted orgasm. 
Your nails etch half-moon shapes into the back of his thighs, keeping him there, pushing for him to cross the finish line. And it was all for you. 
Tears of happiness stream down your face as you let him finish painting your throat, releasing with a dramatic pop as you do your best to swallow every last dribble. You’re careful as you give his sensitive tip a few sweet kitten licks. His hands are at the ready in your hair as he hisses harshly, ready to control you if it’s too much overstimulation for your poor old Daddy. 
Sponging kisses down his softening length, you lay your head against his thigh, and he cards his fingers through your hair. A soothing hum leaves your throat, fluttering your eyes closed as his thumb comes along to brush away the stray tears. 
It’s easier to ignore the throbbing between your legs now that Joel has found peace. Your heart pounds in your ears, and you listen only slightly as he begins to coo gentle affirmations for you.
Joel holds your hands and helps you stand, your arms already tiredly linking around his neck as you lay your head on his shoulder. 
“Such a sweet girl,” he whispers, “always make Daddy so happy, you know that?” Your head bobbles loosely. His sweet remarks make your muscles even more pliant in his arms as he easily sweeps you off your feet and moves you to lie across the bed. 
Joel takes all of you in. Sweat glistening along your temple, parted lips lacquered in spit, the extra effort it takes you to swallow, how perky your nipples are, and the slick that’s all but made a mess down your thighs. 
“Shit, she’s so pretty f’me,” Joel whispers as you grin weakly.
“My turn now?” Your wrecked voice squeaks, to which Joel slowly nods, helping you pitch your legs up on the edge of the bed.  
“Your turn now, little bunny.”
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talaok · 3 days
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But Daddy I Love Him
summary: You and Joel shouldn't be together. According to the people in Jackson, he's a bad, cruel, crazy man, and yet... he's all you ever wanted.
Warnings: smut (unprotected p in v), angst, blood, physical fight (?), happy ending (cause of course)
a/n: ive been obsessed with this song since it came out, please just go listen to it
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Now I'm runnin' with my dress unbuttoned Screamin', "But, Daddy, I love him I'm havin' his baby" No, I'm not, but you should see your faces I'm tellin' him to floor it through the fences No, I'm not coming to my senses I know he's crazy, but he's the one I want
— — —
"fuck"
"god"
His breath, his hands, his beard, his mouth, his cock
Him
He was all you could feel, he was all that existed,
nothing but him and his intoxicating aura, his manly mist, his sweaty body his strong arms,
Him
Joel Miller
The man you should not want, the man you should be terrified of, that you should run and hide from, 
the terrible, crazy, Joel Miller 
The same one everyone told you to stay away from, your friends, your family, strangers, the entirety of Jackson
And yet he was the only man you ever really wanted, really needed. 
"I missed you so much"
Even your own voice was nothing, it was a phantom of something that existed long ago, something that stopped living every time he was near, every time he would make everything dissipate into thin air with just his presence.
"I missed you too baby girl" he grunted,
oh how he grunts, how he groans, how he moans
nobody does it like him
"missed you so fucking much darlin'"
His voice felt like a prayer, like a sweet invocation to the sky up above, to whomever would listen,
one that countered completely what he was doing, the nothing but sinful way he had you up against the wall, his hands gripping your waist as he thrust his cock in and out of you so fast you might just break.
The bed was right beside you, but that didn't matter, that's how you were
You and Joel, 
like animals, like soulmates, like desperate, desperate lovers
Your minds didn't work the same when you were near, they didn't work at all, one could argue
But isn't that was love is after all?
"oh my god" you moaned, hiding your head in the crook of his neck as one particular deep thrust made you see stars
"I know darlin'" he cooed, only going faster, deeper "I know"
"Joel" you cried, biting down on his skin "f-fuck"
It had only been two weeks since you last saw each other, but it might as well been decades.
They had sent him away.
Nobody liked him in Jackson, not once they'd learned his story, the terrible things he'd done
And when they found out about you... not even his own brother could protect him.
So they'd exiled him. 
But they couldn't keep him away forever, not when he had something to come back for.
"god fuckin' damnit babygirl- you feel so fuckin' good"
Your moans only got higher, your nails clinging to his back like a rabid cat.
"perfect lil' pussy" he growled, his hot breath on your sweaty neck pulling shivers from your body "Perfect fuckin' girl"
"oh fuck" you whined, tightening your legs' hold onto his waist 
"you feel so good too Joel" you promised, breathing heavily in synch with him "You and your perfect cock"
He groaned so loud he sounded like an animal
"might want to keep that pretty mouth shut if you want this to last, sugar"
You didn't know where you found the strength to laugh, but you did
"you're gonna come too soon, old man?"
His hold on your waist pulled you even closer, as you raised your head to look him in the eyes
God, he was handsome
"just might, if you keep saying stuff like that"
but before you could tell him how it wasn't fair, how he did it all the time and you couldn't do it even once, his thumb was on your clit and your eyes were to the back of your head.
"no" he stopped you before you could hide your face from him again "I want to see you"
And as warmth filled your chest and your forehead fell to his and pressure built in your belly, he murmured:
"good girl- come for me, just like that- Jesus Christ-"
And so you did,
You came and moaned and cried, and it didn't take much before he was doing the same, pumping you full of him until he'd given you every single drop.
And then you kissed, he kissed you slowly and gently and in the same exact way that made you fall for him the very first time.
"god I missed you so much" he breathed once you leaned away
A smile from ear to ear took over your face and all you could do was kiss him again
"me too baby" you murmured, as he helped you to your feet
You both smiled like silly idiots as you dressed again,
but neither of you could resist being in each other's arms, so you didn't.
He pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the crown of your head once you rested it on his still bare chest.
You didn't get how anyone could hate him,
You swore they wouldn't, they wouldn't if they only got to meet him, the real him, not the idea of him they had painted in their minds.
And so you hummed, breathing him in, clinging to him as he clung to you
Up until the very moment it all went to shit
Again.
"hey honey I just got back I-"
It was sad really, the fact you'd seen this scene before.
The disappointment in your dad's eyes, the fear turning into primal rage inside his iris, his fists tightening, Joel taking a step back
A deja-vu had never felt quite so devastating
"Arthur" Joel tried to speak, but your dad was already on him, his fist had already connected with his cheek
"What did I tell you!?" another punch "Last time was just a fucking warning!" and another
Joel was on the ground
He wasn't going to fight back.
This wasn't how he wanted to handle things
Not this time
Not with you
"I'll kill you this time you fucking disgusting pervert!" you swore you heard Joel's cheekbone crack with another hit "How dare you!?" your dad growled, Joel's bloody face beneath him "In my own home- how dare you take advantage of my daughter you fucking- pig!"
Your eyes were overflowing with tears, the top buttons of your dress were still unbuttoned, and Joel's chest was rising and falling too slowly, much too slowly
"dad"
But he kept going
"dad stop!"
you grabbed his wrist, and the moment his eyes met yours it felt like the word stopped, like it had frozen over.
You caused all that anger, all that pain
But if he just would listen to you...
"y/n"
"dad" your voice trembled as much as your fingers "dad I love him"
You saw his heart break. For all the wrong reasons,
for his poor daughter who was taken advantage of, for the naive, innocent daughter he couldn't protect. For the daughter that didn't exist. Because that wasn't you, that wasn't how things had gone.
"you don't know what you're saying"
His voice was harsh, cruel, cold.
"But I do!" tears ran down your cheeks as you glanced down to where Joel lay, to the cuts and blood coating his face "I love him dad, I really really do"
"You don't know who this man is" he said "The things he's done..." he said with a snarl, as if disgusted, as if the rage was surging from his chest all over again
"I know" you whispered "I know everything- He told me all of it dad, please" you begged "Please just let him go, let him talk"
"I don't need to listen to a word that comes out of this fucker's mouth"
"but dad-"
It was like a bomb went off
"HE'S 56!" he yelled, his grip on Joel's neck tightening "he's fifty fucking six y/n! You just fucking turned 21!" his voice bounced off the walls like thunder, "You're not even half his age!"
"who cares!?" you screamed too now, only your voice was interrupted by sobs 
"I DO!" he roared "Your mom would!" his eyes were wide with urgency, and although he was mad you could still hear the care behind his words "He might have made you think this is ok, that he loves you, but trust me none of it is true" he sighed "He's using you honey, I know it's hard to understand right now, but you- you're young- you don't know-"
Your hand left him, shaking as it went to wipe your tears.
"dad" you said more firmly now "I might be young but I'm not stupid"
"y/n-"
"no" you stopped him "Dad this is the first time I've ever felt this way, like I cannot breathe when he's not close, like I need him more than I need air" you swallowed thickly "And I know- I know it's hard to understand, I know it's easier to just go with the narrative in your head, of the fragile little girl and the big creepy guy, but this-" you took a shaky breath as you glanced at Joel again
His eyes were barely open, he was barely conscious
"This isn't like that" you promised "I- I love him, and he loves me"
"Honey-"
"I'm not done" you stopped him again "I'll never forgive you dad" you shook your head, simply stating the truth "I'll never forgive you if you do this, if you don't even give him a chance to explain, to tell you how things really are"
You saw the conflict in his eyes, the searing pain caused him to hear such words from his daughter, to hear her beg and threaten and speak up all at once,
and yet... yet he couldn't shake off the honesty, the hope lacing your words, your voice, sparkling from your eyes
And so he did the only thing he could,
he agreed, he agreed to hear the full story.
___
That was two years ago now,
and sometimes you wondered if it all was just a bad dream, if your imagination had tricked you into believing some silly made-up story,
but the glares from the people in town always seemed to refresh your memory.
And yes, maybe you would have liked to live a life without people whispering ugly things about you behind your back every day... but then maybe, maybe it was all worth it
For this.
For the child growing in your belly, for the veil on top of your head, for the sound of your dad stifling his sobs beside you, 
for the image of Joel waiting for you at the end of the aisle, for the tears in his eyes, for the smile on his face,
for him, 
for you,
It was all worth it,
Yes, yes it definitely was.
— — —
Now I'm dancin' in my dress in the sun and Even my daddy just loves him I'm his lady And, oh, my God, you should see your faces Time, doesn't it give some perspective? And, no, you can't come to the wedding I know it's crazy, but he's the one I want
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pedropcl · 3 days
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THE LAST OF US
S01E04: Please Hold to My Hand | dir. Jeremy Webb
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luvrxbunny · 2 days
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mini blurbs ─ ★ joel miller x f! reader
a/n: ngl. some of these are blurb sized blurbs but i was just too lazy to give them their own post 😇
wc: 992
warnings: 18+ MDNI, cum in pants, voyerism(?), dry humping, piv, blowjob
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-> dbf!joel who gets invited to the family bbq/pool party only to lose his shit the second he sees you. he ends up (uncharacteristically) being the first person in the pool because there’s no other way to hide how hard he is.
you eventually feel bad, watching him float around the empty pool, and decide to join him.
so he has to touch himself while you’re talking to him. you’re so beautiful in the sunlight, your skin basically glowing. you’re just slightly sweating, letting joel’s imagination conjure up insane scenarios.
to top it all off, you start touching him. you notice his silence along with his sweaty and red face. you assume it’s the heat, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead then his cheek, and commenting on how hot he feels.
his hips repeatedly jerk towards you as he cums into the netting of his shorts. trying to keep his voice steady as he lets you know that he is perfectly fine.
-> dbf!joel who is disgustingly depraved. like he lurks around your room at night, sometimes just standing out in the hall to hear you moving around in there. you catch him spraying your perfume on his shirts on multiple occasions.
you don't technically know what he does with the shirts but you know that when your dad has him in the guest room, he thinks the walls are a lot thicker than they are.
-> finally convincing joel to send you a full body video of him cumming and he shocks you to your core when it’s just a video of him sitting back, full body in frame, his thick hairy thighs and huge arms grabbing your attention instantly. he’s looking directly at the camera as his cock bobs between his thighs, twitching and leaking everywhere for the camera before tensing up and spurting across his chest. joel’s head flies backwards as a deep groan rattles from his chest as he paints it white. he comes down with slow chants of “oh baby-” and "fuck, sweetheart." before going silent, just huffing into the air.
when he looks back down at the camera you can see a blush over his cheeks as he reaches for it. you can tell he's looking at himself not the camera when he gives you a “hope that was alright.” and a soft, timid smile before it ends
you respond with “come over right now.”
-> trying to give joel a blowjob for the first time. he's basically bouncing in his seat as you get on your knees. you take your time unzipping his pants, smiling at the way he moans at everything you do. his breathing picks up once you reach for the band of his breifs, his hands coming to the side of his chair, gripping so hard that his knuckles almost turn white. you take a moment to take in his state, all disheveled despite the fact that you've done nothing but undress him.
he rewards you with a desperate, breathy "i'll do anything".
his hips are fucking into the air as he keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling. you concede, wrapping your hand around his dick and shocking a moan out of him. you finally lean forward to place your lips on his tip, licking at his slit softly, relishing in his salty taste. he sucks in a sharp breath and never exhales.
you pull off of him to giggle at his reaction, maybe lick up his shaft. but the second you come off, his hips pump into the air, humping his dick against your cheek before cumming all over your face.
he groans like he got kicked in the chest, completely out of breath and so gravelly you know his voice will be scratchy afterward.
“mmm fuck. m’sorry. m’ so so sorry, love. s- so good.”
-> joel who wraps his arms around you so tightly that they shake when he cums. no matter what position. he’ll either rearrange the both of you so he can wrap you up or he’ll figure out a way in the position you’re in.
if he’s fucking you in doggy then he’ll lean down and wrap one arm around you. to make up for the missing arm, he’ll rant about how much he loves you in your ear.
his favorite position to have you in is spooning. first, because it's convenient. second, because he can wrap both his arms around you and pull you against his body as tightly as he wants.
sometimes he'll lock you in place and flip onto his back, planting his heels into the bed before beginning his relentless pace into your crying cunt.
-> in a van for a supply run with joel, tommy, maria and some other unknown characters. maria and tommy are upfront with the goons taking up the middle seats. you had to beg joel for this but you guys are in a cuddling position. joel sitting with his back to window, one leg straight and the other planted on the floor. you're sitting between his legs, leaning back against him but sitting straight enough to just turn your head if you want to kiss him.
but the road is more worn down than either of you expected. you try to act like you haven't only been focused on the hot bulge digging into your back every time the van bumps over a rock but once you feel the hot mass begin to harden and expand, you realize you're not the only one struggling with those thoughts.
with some more begging, a lot of neck kisses, gentle caressing, and soft, desperate words to joel. you're now in the same position but bent at the waist, giving him perfect access to your perky ass.
he's having way more fun than he'd care to admit but you can feel it. he was cautious at first, stopping anytime someone said something he thought might draw attention to the back, or even when the van got too silent. but know he's going at you. he's bringing your hips back directly on his cock like he's fucking you.
and he has no problem draping himself over your back to lean in your ear so you can hear him cumming in his pants for you
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fungal-rot · 3 days
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How I Think Joel Would Kiss You (Jackson!Joel)
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If it’s your first kiss with each other I think Joel would be a bit hesitant. His heart would race and his leg would bounce as he sat next to you, listen to you ramble on and on about your day and oh my g o d just kiss them !! fuck he hasn’t been in a real relationship like this for so long. Joel is learning to love again and good lord does he love you. he’s not very good at expressing it through words, but instead acts of services. would kissing you be considered an act of service?
his fingers twitch in his lap as he eyed you intently but can’t seem to pay attention because your lips are just right there !! waiting to be smooched !! then just saying fuck it, he rips that bandaid off and grabs either side of your face with both hands and pulls you to him while planting a fat, wet (and a lil clumsy) kiss to your mouth. suddenly he thinks about how your lips are so soft and nice and his are so fuckin’ chapped holy shit can they feel that? why is he overthinking this he’s a grown ass man, get it together.
then he’d pull away, and he’d see the awestruck look in your eyes as they flutter open, the way your mouth would slowly stretch into a wide, toothy grin. and he felt at home. because he was home.
after that it got a little easier. he wasn’t too keen on public affection unless someone was eyeing you too hard or too long, but at home he was always showering you with love, peppering your face with his lips, playfully nipping your jaw and neck. walk up behind you and wrap his arms around your middle and leave a kiss on your temple or the top of your head. he felt safe and comfortable around you, to let his normal stoicism drop and lighten up. you were his rock, his family. and you are so very loved and appreciated.
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shellshocklove · 2 days
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dirty work | joel miller
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(gif by me)
pairing/AU: daddy!joel miller x female!reader - no outbreak
summary: joel's work has been a bitch the last few weeks and he's tired, but it's nothing you can't fix.
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so minors dni!!! swearing, use of pet names, smut with a dash of fluff, lap sitting, daddy!dom!joel, praise with a dash of degradation, handjob, cockwarming, use of sex toys, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, creampie, no use of y/n
a/n: this is just a short smut idea i wanted to write. minimal editing done here btw so if you see any mistakes, no you didn't 🥰
masterlist / ao3
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At the sound of a key turning, you lifted your head from the couch pillow.
Tapping at your phone resting on your chest, you noticed it was an hour later than he’d promised – not that you were surprised. Joel hadn’t been home earlier than nine o’clock for weeks as his new client had turned out to be on another level of demanding and indecisive. Every morning he’d woken up before six and left you with a kiss to your forehead long before your own alarm would ring.
Finally home, his heavy work boots scraped against the tiles in the hallway, before you heard the thud of his tool bag hitting the floor followed by a tired sigh. Pushing yourself to rest on your elbow you peeked over the armrest of the couch.
“Did the wife change her mind again?” you asked in a raised voice, lowering the volume on the reality show you’d been half-watching since dinner.
With heavy footsteps he padded into your living room and an ache settled in your chest as you took him in. His hair was ruffled and messy, and his eyes drooped at the corners. With a groan Joel dropped down next to you on the couch. Shifting your weight to sit up properly, you moved your blanket a little out of the way to move closer to your tired man. He didn’t answer right away, his palms coming up to rub at his eyes as an exasperated sigh escaped his lips.
“That goddamn woman had her sister visitin’ this weekend ‘nd now she wanna change everythin’, again.” He breathed out another heavy sigh, before his palms came down on his thighs with a dull smack!
“Are you serious?” you shook your head and shifted even closer, your knees brushing against his denim clad thigh.
“’m afraid so, baby,” he said and let his head fall against the back of the couch, his eyes trailing a pattern in the ceiling.
Shifting on your knees you sunk into his side, letting your head fall to rest on his shoulder, while you snaked your hand across his broad chest to pull him closer in a hug. Almost like a reflex Joel lifted his arm to wrap around you.
“Can’t you let Tommy take the lead on this project? This much work isn’t healthy, Joel,” you spoke into his t-shirt, breathing in that familiar smell of him – the smell of faded cologne, sawdust and sweat.
“If I wanna get fired, maybe. Tommy already offended that woman weeks ago sayin’ some shit about how indecisive she was– not that he was wrong but…” he trailed off, instead he hooked his arm under your knees to pull your legs over his lap. Tilting your head slightly you watched his eyes, how they fixated on his hand now resting over the thick of your thigh, his finger brushing small circles over the fabric of your lounge wear as thoughts swiveled in his head.
“Anyway, it’ll be done in a few weeks– I just gotta push through and it’s good money,” he concluded after a beat, his hand flexing before coming down on your thigh in a small pat.
You hummed, squeezing him closer to your body. “I just wish you didn’t need to work so hard– I’ve missed you.”
You felt the softest touch of a kiss to the top of your head at your confession, and it made a smile wash over your features. “I’ve missed you too, baby.” Joel said, his voice muffled through more presses of small light kisses.
His hand resting over your thigh traveled up your body, like he was trying to remember what you felt like again. A calloused finger landed under your chin, the pad rough from a lifetime of hard work, to tilt your head upwards. A smile tugged at your lips, and you knew what he wanted. Locking eyes with him, the world seemed to bleed at the corners, before it all seemed to focus on nothing but him when he dipped down to brush his lips over yours. You keened into him, keened into his touch, keened into the way his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow in just the right way.
“Missed you real bad.”
The deep rumble of his voice vibrated through your body, igniting a want that had laid dormant all these weeks. A content breathy sigh escaped your lips when he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing over the seam of your lips to lick into your mouth. Grasping for something to tether yourself to, your hand found the thick muscle of his bicep.
When you’d both stolen each other’s breaths for too long, Joel started pressing kisses down your jaw to the column of your neck – nipping at the sensitive skin before soothing it over with his tongue.
“Want ya so bad, baby– missed that tight pussy around my cock.”
You whined at his confession, your body involuntarily squirming as the deep bass in his voice whispering in your ear, sent shivers down your spine.
“Missed you too,” you managed to breathe out, “Missed you too, Daddy.”
A deep groan rumbled in Joel’s chest when that word fell from your lips, and soon he’d hooked a hand under your leg to hoist you into his lap. A giggly squeal fell from your lips at his manhandling, but you couldn’t deny how much it turned you on – to let him have his way with you, to let him take what he wanted, what he needed.
Less than a second later, his mouth was on you again, his lips pressed hard against your own as both his hands fell to rest over your ass. Under you, you felt the familiar shape of his cock harden, and you couldn’t help but buck your hips, feeling a surge of arousal pool in your tummy.
“There you go, sweetheart, good girl,” he mumbled between kisses, urging you on “grind on Daddy’s cock, baby, that’s it– just like that.”
Wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself, you broke away from his lips. The building pleasure felt so good already, and you had to duck your face into his neck to hide the small whines from falling from your lips. A heavy hand came down on your back, to hold you closer as he soothed over your skin.
It all felt so good, Joel felt so good, so safe. The rough denim of his jeans rubbed perfect over your clit, and you could feel the pressure of an orgasm coiling in on itself in your core.
Chasing that high, your movements got slightly needier, not as practiced and steady, and Joel sensed the shift in you. “Good girl, baby– you’re such a good girl for Daddy,” he praised, the words tickling your ear. He knew just what to say to make you wet, and needy for him. The gusset of your panties now soiled in your dripping arousal.
“Please, Daddy,” you whimpered, but you didn’t know what for. For him to allow you to cum? For him to have his way with you? For him to fuck you? All of the above?
“Please, what, honey? What’d you need?” Joel coaxed; his voice laced with condescending pity.
“Please, I need to feel you– feel your cock inside,” you whined into his neck, any modesty inside you had melted away as soon as he’d pulled you into his lap.
“Yeah?” he murmured gently, and you could only nod – your brain too empty to focus on anything other than Joel. “But Daddy’s tired, baby, he’s had a long day.”
The whine escaping you made Joel laugh, the deep rumbling of his laugh vibrated against your chest. He was playing with you, you knew that, but it had been so long since you’d been fucked by him – over a week – and desperate didn’t even begin to cover how you felt right now.
“I’ll tell ya what, pretty girl, Daddy’s got an idea,” he told you, with a gentle smack! to your ass. You sat up a little and shifted yourself down his thighs slightly, before your eyes, laced with curiosity, found his dark ones. “Why don’t you go get the wand from our bedroom, and Daddy’ll take care of ya, huh?” he posed; his large hand cupping your cheek.
“O-okay,” you nodded, a little confused about his plans. Didn’t he just say he wanted you?
There was no need in questioning him. You already knew whatever idea he had in store for you tonight, he’d make you feel good. So, like the good girl you wanted to be, you did as you were told.
When you got back to the living room Joel were still sat in the same spot on the couch, but in your absence he’d undone his jeans. With one arm slung over the back of the sofa, his legs spread wide, he watched you as he wrapped a large hand around himself to stroke at his impressive cock in lazy strokes.
“Come sit in my lap, baby,” he gestured with his other hand.
Just as you were about to straddle him again, he stopped you with a hand on your hip; his finger hooking roughly into your sweatpants.
“Off,” he ordered and took the wand from your hand.
Again, like a good girl, you did as you were told.
Turning around a small giggle fell from your lips when you decided to put on a little show for him. Slowly, and teasingly, you hooked your fingers into the elastic of your sweatpants, pulling them down slowly to reveal your underwear while you wiggled your ass sightly back and forth. A knuckle brushed over the curve of you; making you jump from the sudden touch before a smile blossomed across your face.
“Pretty, baby,” you heard him murmur, “such a pretty girl.”
Then his finger hooked into the elastic of your panties to pull them down to expose your wet and needy cunt for him. Biting down on your bottom lip, you fought to hide the moan threatening to escape when you felt the wide pad of his thumb run from your hole down through your slick folds, spreading you apart for him.
“Lookit this pretty pussy– it wants some attention, doesn’t it? It’s drippin’ for me and I ain’t even touched it yet– poor thing.” Joel said it softly, but there was still with a hint of condescension in his voice, “Been so long since Daddy’s taken care of you, hasn’t it?”
You grinded your ass into his hand, “Yes, please touch me, Daddy.” Looking at him over your shoulder, you put on your best puppy-eyes and exaggerated pout. Maybe it was over the top and silly, but it pulled a breathy laugh from Joel.
“Alright, pretty girl,” he conceded, and wrapped a large hand around your waist to turn you around.
“Come here… Spread those pretty legs apart f’me.”
He pulled you down in his lap, your legs spreading wide across his thick thighs and putting your dripping core on full display for him. Small currents of electricity cursed through you as your whole body buzzed with anticipation of what would come next. Of what Joel’s idea was. Flitting your eyes nervously to the wand he’d tossed aside beside him, your head spun, conjuring up all kinds of dirty scenarios.
When Joel was pleased with how you were seated in his lap, his right hand came up to cup your chin and angle your face towards him. His dark eyes shone with lust, but it was clouded over like a veil; you knew him well enough at this point to recognize the affection behind it. Like a reflex it made the corner of your lips pull up into a smile, a smile straining against his loose grip on your chin.
“What you smilin’ about, huh?” he questioned, head tipping in a curious tilt.
“Nothing,” you smiled.
“Nothin’, huh? Don’t look like nothin’ to me,” he shook your head playfully with no real force; just moving your head in his hand.
“Just love you is all,” you shrugged. It was the truth after all.
Your confession pulled a smile over Joel’s face; the dark black in his eyes giving way for a lighter loving brown for just a second.
“I love you too, baby,” he said and leaned forward to place a quick peck to your lips.
He pulled away too quickly for your liking and you whined, chasing after his lips, but Joel only chuckled at you, keeping your chin cupped in his hand. Leaning closer to your face again, you thought he’d grant you another kiss, your pathetic whining having won him over. Instead, he bumped his nose against yours and whispered against your lips, “Touch my cock, baby.”
A breath hitched in your throat, the low rumble of his voice searing through your body and making your blood run hot with arousal. It clouded your mind, and you almost had to take a second to understand what he’d just told you. Joel turned you on so bad, the bubbling warmth of arousal in your core now having turned into an almost painful ache. You didn’t want him anymore, you needed him.
When your brain finally caught up, your hands moved by their own accord, wrapping one around his aching cock, while the other steadied yourself on his shoulder. His cock was so big, always so big. The first time he’d had you on your back, you’d wondered how it was even gonna fit inside you, but now, now your cunt ached to be filled by him just at the sight of him in your hand.
Joel fell back against the couch cushions, the hand on your chin travelling down your body to rest over the thick of your thighs. “That’s right, baby, you take that cock in your hand, that’s a good girl,” he praised, while his fingers traced encouraging shaped into your bare skin, “Spit on Daddy’s cock– get it nice and wet.”
Leaning forward slightly you let a blob of spit spill from your lips and drip down to coat his thick head. Your eyes were laser focused on your task at hand, wanting nothing more than for Joel to feel good after such a stressful few days. Skating your thumb over the head, you mixed your spit with the precum that had started to pearl at his tip. It dripped down over your hand, and you tightened your grip slightly before you started moving your hand.
Up and down. 
Mesmerized at the movement of your hand and the wet squelch filling the air between you as you jerked your hand in a steady rhythm, you did your best to make him feel good.
“Just like that– that’s a good girl,” Joel praised in between strained grunts.
You had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep a wide grin to blossoming across your face as every small grunt and praising encouragement circled around your heart in a dizzying warmth. You touched him how you knew he liked it, setting a steady pace but also making sure to grip him a little tighter at the base, and massage the tip between strokes. You were detriment to make him come. He deserved it, you quietly decided to yourself.
Joel must’ve not agreed with you, because suddenly he was pulling your hand away, “That’s enough for now.”
The pout was on your lips before you knew it, and as soon as Joel noticed he raised an unimpressed eyebrow at you.
“No pouting, or Daddy’ll have to punish you,” he reprimanded, his hand on your thigh gliding over your skin to cup your ass in a tight grip. You jumped at the sudden touch, before you grinded your ass into his hand. It made Joel shake his head.
“Stand,” he ordered suddenly with a tap to your ass cheek, “and turn ‘around f’me.”
You let him maneuver you however he wanted, and soon you were sitting – half-way laying – with your back resting against his chest while he rocked his hard cock between the seam of your ass.
“Listen up,” he spoke into your ear, and you had to contain yourself to not squirm in his lap. “You’re gonna sit nice and pretty on Daddy’s cock and let Daddy have a little fun with this toy of yours– ain’t that sound good?” he cooed.
You couldn’t do anything other than nod, your head twisting into his neck. You felt like you were starting to burn up from the inside from the arousal that had continuing to build and build and build.
“Nuh-uh, need your words, pretty girl,” he said with a tap to your waist.
“Yes,” you breathed out, “please, Daddy! I’ll let you do whatever you want.”
You knew those words were the ones he wanted to hear. It was why the sex with Joel was as great as it was. You understood quickly that the control he wanted, the control he took, in the bedroom gave him a break from a stressful and unpredictable world. He craved it just as much as you craved for him to take it. You trusted him like no other human you knew; he knew you better than yourself, knew where your limits were, and how to push them just right.
After you sigh of consent, everything after was a blur of pleasure. He helped you lower yourself inch by inch down on his cock. The stretch of him always overwhelming, as the thick girth of him split you open in a delicious burn.
“That’s a good girl,” he praised in your ear, the words like sweet honey. “Feels good doesn’t it, baby?”
With him fully seated inside you, you could finally breathe. Nodding in a sigh of delirious pleasure, you reveled in the bliss of being so close to him, to feel the strong grip of his arm around you, and his large cock inside. In Joel’s arms, your thoughts and stress of the dying day, wilted away.
After a beat, you pulled yourself together and shifted in Joel’s lap; ready to start moving on his cock. His grip around your torso tightened at your movement, his breath tickling the back for your ear.
“What did I tell you, baby? Told you to sit nice and pretty on Daddy’s cock, didn’t I?” he reprimanded.
You didn’t have time to tell him you were sorry – you thought he wanted you to make him come – before he’d pressed the head of the wand hard against your neglected clit. You jumped in his arms from the sudden stimulation, your cunt clamping around his cock as a small squeal escaped you from surprise.
“Shh, sweetheart,” he cooed in your ear, “you can take it baby.”
You couldn’t, actually.
Not a second later, the intensity of the vibration had you coming on his cock. All the pent-up teasing, breaking like a dam of an orgasm, washing over you.
“There you go– squeeze your cunt on Daddy’s cock, let me feel you come all over it like a good slut.” You almost didn’t hear Joel over the overwhelming ecstasy of your first orgasm of the night.
Turning down the vibrations slightly Joel let you come down to earth again, but he never pulled the wand from your cunt. He made sure to hold it steady, easing up on the pressure with slow circles, before he pushed it a little firmer against your clit again.
“This is Daddy’s pussy, isn’t it?” he spoke into your ear, voice low and husky.
“Yes,” you whispered with a rock of your hips, “all yours, Daddy.”
Taking the hint, he turned up the vibrations again. It was intense, all your effort concentrated on the feel of Joel’s cock filling you up so perfectly while he quickly brought you closer to the edge of another orgasm. You couldn’t do anything other than take it – take what he was giving you, take the filth he was spilling into your ear.
“Y’hear how wet you are, baby? Your pussy soakin’ Daddy’s cock?” he emphasized with a shallow trust of his cock inside you  – the first movement of his cock since you’d sat down on him.
“Such a naughty little slut.”
“Is that too much f’you, sweetheart?”
With no warning you were coming again, your body trembling in his lap as Joel hushed your whiny moans and breathy mewls.
“Oh, my pretty girl’s comin’ again? Already? Don’t take much does it?” he chuckled.
A heat of embarrassment coated your cheeks at his degrading words, the realization of his words catching up with you as you came down. With a bite to your bottom lip, you leaned back into his neck. To hide? You didn’t know, but Joel wouldn’t have it either way. Sitting up a little a hand wrapped around your chin in a steady grip, angling your head to look between your spread legs.
“Nuh-uh, you watch what Daddy’s doing to his pussy.” He emphasized his words with a hard press of the wand to your clit, making you moan loudly. Your pussy looked a mess. Slick wet arousal had gathered in the thatch or hair at the top of your mound, the head of the wand glistening with you as Joel moved it expertly over your poor puffy clit.
“You’re gonna give Daddy another one, we clear?”
“O-okay,” you managed to stutter out. The intensity of the vibrations combined with your ever-increasing sensitivity now almost too much to handle.
“Repeat it,” he ordered, circling the wand perfectly over your clint.
A strangled moan escaped your throat before you could let a single word out. “I’m gonna come again for you, Daddy.”
“Yes, pretty girl, that’s right,” he confirmed with a rock of his hips. The tip of his cock nudged perfectly against your spot inside, and with the way he circled the wand, you were already tethering on the edge.
“But you come only when Daddy says. Wanna feel that that perfect pussy come as I fill you up with my cum– because that’s what you need isn’t it? Daddy’s cum inside?”
“Yes,” you moaned in a hitching breath.
He was so mean for making you talk when you were this close to tipping over again for him. Gathering all your self-control you held on for dear life to not come before Joel had given you permission. You gripped a hand around his elbow, your hand moving with his as you felt the vibrations from the wand travel through you. You were squirming now, and you were sure that if you didn’t come in the next few seconds you’d die.
In your ear Joel’s heavy breaths got more labored. “Y’want Daddy to fill up this messy pussy with his cum?”, he panted in your ear, his hips rocking into yours, “Then you have to be a good little slut and come again f’me.”
As the last syllable left his lips, everything melted together in a mixture of Joel. Squirming in his lap, you clenched hard around his cock as you came. The slick of your numerous orgasms dripped from your hole split opened by his cock, and down the heavy sack of his balls.
“That’s it,” he praised, “That’s a good girl– take all that cum inside.” His cock twitched as he emptied himself inside your cunt, painting your walls and finally filling you up with his cum like he’d promised. You had no choice but to take it – not that you’d wanted it anywhere else.
When your breath started to come back to normal, and your heartbeat slowed, you managed to tap tiredly at Joel’s hand. He was still pressing the wand to your clit making you squirm away from the vibrations – this time it was too much.
“Joel,” you warned in a high-pitched voice.
Joel loved to push your limits, but he was never cruel about it. With an endearing chuckle, he turned the wand off and tossed it aside on the couch cushion before he wrapped both his hands around you.
“I think I could’ve pushed another from ya,” he teased with a playful bite to your ear.
Inside you, you could feel his cock softening as his heavy release started to drip out down the length of him.
With a breathy laugh you leaned deeper into his chest,
“You can always push another from me.”
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i hope someone liked this? if you did a comment, reply or an ask is always welcome and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!
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Domestica - A Joel Miller Drabble
Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Pre Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 1,100 Summary: It's Joel's birthday, you're the best gift he can ask for. Warnings: No outbreak (happy birthday bb), smut, domestic fluff, Joel's POV. A/N: This absolutely planted in my brain and I couldn't do anything until I wrote it out. Masterlist
Heavy footsteps down the stairs, the jingle of his belt as he buckles it, the sound of a metal fork clanging against a glass bowl as eggs are whisked, the sizzle of bacon frying in the pan, Sarah gently humming a tune as the the orange juice pitcher glugs. Breakfast in the Miller household every morning plays all of the familiar sounds he loves to hear. 
Every morning he wakes up reaching for you, but you’re an even earlier riser than him. The side of your bed empty, the plant that used to sit half dead on the bedside table now blooming and healthy, akin to how he feels about his life ever since you entered it. 
——
He wraps his arms around you as you stand at the stove flipping bacon in the pan, sneaking a kiss to your neck as Sarah’s back is turned away. “Mornin’,” he breathes against your ear loving how you instantly mold to his body.  
Your body fits so perfectly against his, no matter what time of day. Innocent morning hugs while Sarah’s around, lazy evening cuddles on the couch after dinner, smoldering night time hips meeting as he enters you. 
“Happy birthday,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you softly thud your head against his broad chest. “You forgot to buy pancake mix, so it’s eggs and bacon for breakfast.”
“Fine by me,” he says against your head, kissing the top of it before pulling away to pour himself a cup of coffee. He refills your empty cup without asking, adding a heaping spoonful of creamer and a sprinkle of sugar, knowing exactly how you take it. 
The best present he can be given today is seeing his girls at his table, you making Sarah giggle as you tease her about the actor she has a crush on. His hand on your thigh choosing to eat one handed because you’re still wearing your sleep shorts, those same shorts he peeled off your body last night before bed. 
The diamond on your finger glinting in the sunlight pouring in from the windows, he moves his hands up to it to pet the hard stone, proud of himself for finding the ring of your dreams. He remembers the tears welling in your eyes as he asked you to marry him, those same eyes he looks for in a crowd, the same eyes that brighten when they see him. 
“Bear, did you remember to grab the extra pack of highlighters I had in my desk?” He loves how you have your own pet name for Sarah. He loves how you’ve stepped right into being a coparent with him, leaving him feeling like he’s no longer struggling underwater slowly being drowned by his job and trying to be the best single parent he can be. He loves that Sarah loves you as much he loves you. You’re his gift that keeps on giving.
“Yep, thank you!” she winks at you, he loves how he can instantly tell the two of you are scheming together and how bad the two of you are at playing coy.
“I gotta get ready before it’s any late,” you rise from the table. “Be good today Bear,” he’ll never tire of seeing the way his daughter smiles as you kiss the top of her forehead. He swears your influence has kept her just as sweet in her teenage years as she was as a little girl. 
“I’ll be up later to say goodbye after Tommy gets here,” he says as you bend over and kiss his cheek. 
——
He can hear the shower on, a song quietly playing on the shower radio that you sing along to. The mirror’s fogged up, he can smell the sweet scent of your body wash wafting through the air mixing with the steam. “Baby, I’m leaving now,” he speaks over the song. 
“Okay,” you open the shower door, naked and soaking wet, his hands tighten into frustrated fists because he can’t join you. “Still going to be late?” 
“Afraid so,” he stands outside the tub, the walls of it his own blockade stopping him from being any later. 
“Well, Sarah and I will go get a cake for you so at least you’ll have that whenever you get home,” you lean forward, your body dripping water on the floor and his boots.
“Thanks baby,” he wraps his arms around you, he doesn’t care how wet you’re getting his shirt, it’ll be a nice reminder of your body against his as it dries. 
“I love you,” you look up at him and smile waiting for a kiss. “Have a good birthday day.”
“I’ll miss you,” his lips brush against yours, restraining himself to keep the kiss from turning heated. 
A honk from outside rattles him out of the daydream of stripping off his clothes and joining you, pushing your naked body against the wall and fucking you against it.
“You better get going,” you lean away and step back under the water. 
“Shit,” he adjusts the crotch of his jeans as you giggle at his predicament. 
“Goodbye birthday boy, love you,” you shut the shower door, going right back to singing your song on the radio. 
He stomps down the stairs annoyed that the last vision he’ll have of you on this birthday morning is you naked and smiling at him while water drips down your body. 
——
That night after tucking Sarah in with a kiss on her forehead and a stroke of her soft cheek as she sleeps, he walks into his room to find you laid out on the bed, only the thin sheet covering your body, your eyes staring at him with a smirk on your lips. You look like a temptress, and he’s fallen under your spell. 
“Happy birthday baby,” you whisper as you climb on top of him.
The gasp you let out as he enters you, shared moans muffled by each other’s lips, your slick squelching as he fucks into you, his tongue lapping up your wetness, the slurp of your lips as you suck him. Nighttime in Joel’s room plays all of the familiar sounds he thinks about during the day. The thought of seeing the way you smile whenever he sticks his cock in you gets him through the worst of days. 
——
In the early morning he wakes up sweaty and panicked, panting for air terrified from his nightmare. You turn over, and grab the hand on his chest, soothing him back to sleep with your sweet voice and soft body against his reassuring him he hasn’t lost anything. 
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milla-frenchy · 2 days
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Breathe (SMBU part 5)
4k9 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller x raider Series summary: you’ve been kidnapped by raiders, Joel is their leader. Women who don’t “behave” are locked in a place you call “the shithouse”. You live in your own house, “freely”. You and your roommate, Vic, became girlfriends. Joel, Tommy and the guards have free use of the women in the camp, while respecting Joel's strict rules. Chapt summary: Joel wants to make things clear, if you ever decide to oppose him again.  Him and Tommy use you for an "initiation" Warnings: 18+ mdni. Dead dove. Dark - noncon (captivity, threat) / dubcon Gangbang, dvp, oral (f/m), spitting, spanking, rough sex, degradation, praise kink, size kink, piv, rimming, anal, creampies, angst a/n: Heed the warnings. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, do not pursue reading. I don't condone any of this. Thank you @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for beta-ing 💕🫶 The Prodigy - Breathe | playlist | ao3 | series masterlist
Main masterlist - Part 4
The next morning while you and Vic were still sleeping, Joel brushed your cheek to wake you up. He asked her to go to her bedroom then changed your bandage gently so as not to hurt you, asking if it was painful. He placed medicine and bandages on the dresser, and left saying he was letting you rest. You didn't see him or any guards for two days, until one of them came and told you to follow him. You tensed up when you approached the shithouse, but you didn’t ask why you were there. You knew it was pointless, the explanations would come in due time, probably from Joel, not from a guard. You approached one of the bedrooms and you heard grunts and moans. Your discomfort grew.
“Stay here,” he told you, after letting you into the room. The smell was terrible. Still made of cum and piss. You tried to look away as she tried to catch your gaze, silently begging for your help. You wanted to cry knowing there was nothing you could do for her. Nausea seized you. Three guards took turns between her thighs. Tears ran down her cheeks but there was nothing human in these men’s eyes or words. They were taking, taking, taking. Raping. Feeding on her fear as much as her body. The mattress was even dirtier than the first time Joel had brought you there, the day you had to choose your fate.
When all three had come inside her, they passed by you, staring at you from head to toe and you placed your hands in front of your chest as an illusory protection. Once gone, you moved closer to her after grabbing a dirty blanket from the corner of the room to cover her.
“I’m sorry, sweetie, I’m sorry.” She was crying and was ashamed, as if it was her fault. You hated them. The door opened and Joel entered.
“Having a good day, Julie?”, he asked.
You hated him now, and he saw it when your eyes met. He grabbed your elbow and led you out of the room.
“You’re gonna get her killed.” You were so shocked that you were shaking, barely managing to keep your composure. You hoped not to show him but your guts knew better than your mind. This man felt the slightest emotions that emanated from a person, and he used them. Whether to make them feel bad or good, depending on what he wanted. He was way too good at this, and it was probably why he was still alive, running raiders camp in the lost world. 
“Getting fucked ain’t gonna kill her.”
“Come on, Joel! She is poorly nourished, probably has lots of deficiencies and perhaps an infection. Not to mention a psychological damage. Have you really lost all humanity?”
You were trying not to cry. You imagined far too easily how you could have been in her place.
“You know I don’t. You're still there”, pointing with his chin at the house where you lived. “In your pretty bedroom. With your pretty girlfriend.”
The way he said it made you shiver. You showed him your bandaged hand, to make him think about you, rather than her.
“What’s your point? You think those guys, the one that railed her, wouldn’t have done worse?”
“What do you want me to say? That you're less of an asshole than them? Still an asshole to me.”
You wondered if you were going too far but you were too upset by what you had just witnessed. “Why did you show me this? Those guys? You’re gonna threaten to send me there again?”
“No. No I won’t. We both know it wouldn’t work.” You looked at each other, waiting for the other one to speak. He spoke first.
“You think you have leverage on me, that I love your pussy too much to throw you to these men. And maybe it’s true. But now I have leverage on you too. I know how much you care about her. So if you piss me off again she’s gonna be thrown here and fucked an entire day by these guys. To teach YOU a lesson. She doesn't need one, she knows her place.”
"You disgust me."
“Oh, baby. You hate me now, but you love my cock as much as I love your cunt. You may have forgotten it for now, but you’ll remember it when you’ll moan, bouncing on it. Go back to your house now, lesson’s over.”
You insulted him in every possible way in your head, while he looked at you with his arrogant smirk. Fully aware of what was on your mind. Your heart sank thinking about Vic, and you went straight to your room, hoping that sleep would make you forget everything else.
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Footsteps woke you up in the middle of the night, just before a guard entered your room and asked you to follow him. It was unusual. When one of them wanted to fuck you at night, he would do it in your bedroom and then leave. As if they wanted to leave their scent in your bed. You were even more surprised when you saw that he wasn't taking you to the fuckhouse. Or the shithouse. For a moment you couldn’t help but be afraid that Joel would “teach you” another lesson there.
The guard led you to a house you had never been in and knocked on the door. You heard Joel shoot “come in”. The man closed the door behind you, and Joel told you to go upstairs. He was lying on a bed, in jeans and a t-shirt.
“Is it…?” you started to ask.
“My bedroom, yeah.”
You looked around. The furniture, the way the room was organized. Everything was clean and tidy. You looked at the window, illuminated by a nearby lamp. Pink, blue and purple paper butterflies were hanging there, moving with the breeze that brushed against them. Everything was minimalistic in his room, and this childish touch of color stood out from everything else. You turned to him with a confused expression and he took a moment before responding.
“A reminder of my daughter.” A veil formed over his eyes. Your heart sank when you heard this confession. With those words, you suddenly realized two things. He had experienced a loss that broke his heart, and you had a special place for him. A part of you had already known it, but now you couldn’t deny it anymore. And somehow, it complicated things for you. From the beginning, you wanted to hate him. But your heart wavered because of Joel's behavior. You knew you were suffering Stockholm syndrome, you knew that your instincts were doing what they could to help you survive, at almost any price. But it wasn't just that.
And now, you didn't know why or how, but this special place you had, was there. Even if he was capable of acting like an asshole, to fuck you with three other guys or to throw you out to all his men. Or to cut your fucking pinky. But he decided to tell you that and your heart was racing. His constant hot and cold behavior was driving you crazy.
“How’s your finger?”
“Great, for a cut off one.”
It made him smile. You, not so much.
He stood up and came up to you, and surprised you again when he asked if he could hold you. You considered saying no to him, but that wasn’t what you wanted. Even if you hated yourself for it. So you nodded and he took you in his arms, and for a few minutes your body relaxed, enjoying the security he was offering you. Your body was lost in his arms, and you loved that feeling, that strength all around you. And not directed against you, for once. He took your chin between his fingers and lifted it towards him. His brown eyes, which sometimes turned black. But not there. And he kissed you. He’d done it before, while he was fucking you, but never like this. His lips were soft and warm. His hands slid down your body, brushing against your breasts, and you shivered. He removed your top and slid his hand between your breasts, rubbing their curvature. Then your pants, getting on his knees to remove them from your feet. Your panties, while he was still kneeling in front of you. He looked at your pussy and brushed your folds with his thumb.
“Lie down on the bed,” he said.
“Can you…” you stopped, not daring to go further in your request.
“Can I what?”
“Take off your clothes? I’d like you to be naked, like me.”
“Ok, baby,” he replied.
“Can I do it?”
He nodded, and let you take off his t-shirt, pants and boxers. He was barefoot.
“Thank you”, you breathed out, before going to lie down. He knelt at the foot of the bed, sliding you over to him. He was calm. Different from the other times when he had fucked you alone. As if he was less harsh. As if he was human, at least a part of him. The emotions were so strange in that new world. And even more so when you were in captivity. Used.
When he placed his lips on your pussy, you forgot the rest. His tongue brushed against your folds up to your clit, before his lips gripped it, sucked on it, kissed it.
“Open up for me,” he said.
You folded your legs further, resting them against the bed. He spread your folds with his hands and spat on your clit then on your folds, before sliding his thumb on your delicate skin. “Joel…” you whispered. He didn’t respond, preferring to slide his tongue into your pussy, groaning between your thighs. Fucking you with it and collecting all your wetness. Digging as far as possible. His thumb twirling over your clit. Sometimes he would let his saliva flow onto your clit again. The feeling of it flowing over you, before he spread it with his thumb, electrified you.
“Good girl,” he said, just before he moved his tongue up to your clit and buried two of his fingers in your pussy. His other hand was on your stomach, caressing your skin. As if he wanted to feel your stomach moving up and down, following the pace of his fingers or tongue. You felt your orgasm building. He spat one last time, knowing the effect it had on you. You came on his fingers, your pussy clenching on them. You heard him moan, tongue resting on your clit. Feeling its jolts.
Then he crawled over to you, a firm hand around his hard, thick cock. He nestled it at your entrance and pushed in without waiting. Eyes staring into yours, until you had to close yours, trying to get used to his size. He was spreading your folds with his cock, without forcing but without slowing down either. Until he bottomed out.
“I love to fuck you, you’re right”, he confessed in your ear. “Best pussy I’ve ever fucked, maybe. Takin’ my cock so fuckin’ good.” You whined against his neck.
“Told you, baby. You love my cock as much as I love your cunt.” You didn't want to think about it. You were there because they had captured you, because you were forced to let him, them, fuck you.  As if he knew what you were thinking, he added, "yeah, since the beginning, you're getting off on being fucked by raiders."
There he was again, that Joel you hated. Your whole body contracted as you tried to push him off of you but he tightened his grip, continuing to fuck you slowly, growling in your neck.
And you hated it but you couldn't deny the heat that rose in your core, his cock rubbing against your g spot, and his lower stomach against your clit. 
“Yeah, baby, just like that. You’re gonna come on my cock.”
“Yeah…I…fuck, Joel…”
“Come on, baby, I missed your cunt these last days. I missed stuffing you full of my cock.”
He wrapped his arms under your shoulders and pulled you close.
“Talk to me. Tell me what you feel.”
“I…I feel it coming. Growing in me. It’s so good, so warm. Why do you…Oh god…I’m gonna…Joel, Joel…”
“Why do I what?”
“Shit…why do you make me feel so good…”
He growled, and added “come on, baby, squeeze my dick. Come on it, then I’ll fill you up.”
You put your legs on his lower back, allowing him to fill you deeply, completely, as he was thrusting in just as slowly.
“Yeah, fuck, yeah…just like that baby.”
You dug your nails into his flesh as the wave hit you. He kept his body against yours, his cock buried deep inside you without moving, just to feel the jerks of your pussy on his cock. Until he came too, just by being clenched by your folds, and shot his cum deep inside you. He lay on top of you for a few minutes, then he withdrew. He told you the guard was going to take you to your house. You picked up your clothes, put them back on and left. On your way back home, you tried to stop your tears from falling. As if your heart expected that he would treat you differently, less harshly, after that moment. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. What you were thinking, how you could be so naive. He was just a raider.
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The days passed. The multiple fucks too.  With time you learned to keep yourself busy. Learned to sew, knit. Tinkering, refinishing furniture. The men brought back various things from their raids. Women were not allowed to leave the camp of course, to avoid the risk of them escaping. At first, time passed agonizingly slowly and you were bored, but refused to participate in activities with other people. To meet other people, chat with them. As if that would mean you were giving in. And then you broke down and took some seeds available in the warehouse. You planted them in the vegetable garden. It was the first activity you got involved in.
Loads of books were available and you had discovered many authors. The days were passing faster now. Sometimes you couldn't help but wonder what you would do if you could leave this camp. If you could survive, and how. If you would come across worse than the men there.
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One day you noticed a new soldier. Young, early 20s. And your heart sank thinking of those young people who had only known that violent world. What would their life be like, in another universe? He wouldn’t become a raider, who learnt that women were only a resource. You hated this world so much. Several times you felt his gaze on you. A look still pure, despite everything.
“You like her?” Joel asked him.
“Well…she’s pretty.”
“Yeah, she is. Wanna fuck her? You had the talk with Tommy, right?”
“Yeah, but…I don’t know, I’ve never done that.”
“What, you’re a virgin?”
“No. But…I’ve never fucked a woman who didn’t want it.”
“Yeah well, it’s not a problem here, kiddo.”
You knew they were talking about you even if you couldn’t hear them. Joel wasn’t exactly discreet.
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When a guard came for you that night and brought you to the fuck house, you knew what was going to happen. Joel, Tommy, and the young guard were already there, waiting for you. 
“Hey sweetheart, always a pleasure to see you”, Tommy said, grabbing your ass and kissing you, as he always did. “This kid here has some things to learn about the camp. You’re gonna be a good girl and help him with that, ok?” As if you had the choice. You shrugged. 
“But well, once he tastes this pussy, the others will seem bland to him.”
“Don’t be rude, Tommy. We have other good pussies to fuck. Her roommate, for example.”
They both sneered. “Assholes”, you thought. Tommy laughed, seeing your face. “Ok, sweetheart, let him taste your mouth.”
You knelt in front of the guard, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. He smelled good. He was semi-hard, looking down at you. Embarrassed. As if you were in a position of strength against him. You wondered how long it would take before it would change.
You took his cock in your hand and let your saliva run down his tip. Spread it with your thumb, then jerked it gently.
“I wonder how long it’ll take him to paint her face,” Tommy chuckled.
“No, no no. Not too fast, kiddo. We like to fuck them when they’re full of cum. Stuff her at least long enough to cum inside.”
You saw him blush. At least women weren't the only victims of their degradation, and somehow that made you happy. You moved closer to him and licked his tip gently, tasting his precum. He jumped and you smiled, before taking him in your mouth, continuing to jerk him gently. His cock was an average size, and you didn't need to get used to its thickness between your lips. You moved down his shaft, keeping your fist clenched at the base of his cock. Picking up the pace slightly, you began to suck him at a steady pace. His precum flowed down your throat, and you heard him moan.
“How does that feel, kiddo?”, asked Joel.
“Good, fucking good”, he answered. “And you…really fuck her, all of them, when you want?”
“Yeah. Day, night. You can fuck them alone, or with other guards. As you wish. But you do it the way I say. You make them cum, you don't hit them. You can slap them a little, we all like it when our cock is buried in their pussy, but not more than that. You have the ones from the shithouse if you need to let off some steam.” You stiffened when you heard him speak like that.
“Fuck…ok, ok.”
Your saliva ran down his shaft and you licked it.
“Oh fuck…ma’am…” Tommy and Joel snickered, hearing him.
“He’s cute”, added Tommy. The guard didn't even hear him.
“Wait, or I’m gonna come, they said I couldn’t do that uh…in your mouth.”
“Come lie down on the bed, baby. He's gonna fuck you. How do you want it, man?”
“All fours? Is that ok?” he asked, looking at you.
He was sweet and cute, and despite the incongruous situation you wanted to counterbalance the attitude of the two brothers.
“Of course”, you answered. You settled onto your hands and knees, waiting for him to come behind you. He knelt down and hesitated.
“But uh…what if I can’t make her come?”
The brothers laughed. You couldn’t imagine how he must feel, having to fuck you in front of both of them, as if it was something normal, while they didn’t even hold back their laughs. He was still so pure.
“It’s ok, kiddo,” Joel replied. “You’re young, you gotta learn. We’ll make her come, don’t worry.”
“Are you two gonna...make love to her, after me?”
“Oh yeah…my brother and I, we’re gonna make love to her. Don’t worry ‘bout that.”
The guard moved closer to you, placing his hands on your hips before grabbing his cock and sliding down to your entrance.
“Oh, fuck”, he said, when your pussy clenched against his shaft.
“Yeah, she’s tight. We still don’t know how she manages to take both of our cocks at the same time, in that tight pussy”, said Tommy.
“Two? Are you both fucking her at the same time? In the same hole?”
“In the same hole, yeah. Or one in her cunt and the other in her ass. Depending on what we want.”
“Oh, man…” 
He started to fuck you. He was clearly not experienced, his movements were clumsy. But he wasn't abrupt, wasn’t hurting you. He spread your ass cheeks slightly, probably looking at your ring.
“Ever fucked an ass before?”
“Oh, fuck…I’m gonna…shit. Oh damn it was close. No, never.”
“You’re gonna love it. Even tighter than her pussy. Much tighter. The first few times you'll probably cum just from digging your tip into that hole.”
You heard him moan, and he came in your pussy, grunting, clinging to your hips.
“Ok kiddo, not so bad, but you gotta practice. Ever ate a pussy?”
“Yeah, well…a couple times.”
“You gotta learn to make them come that way. And when you’re really good at it, you'll make them cum by rubbing their clit while you’re fucking them. And then, just with your cock. Right, baby? She loves that.”
You blushed with this allusion to the night at his house, and the guard pulled out.
“Ok kiddo. Lesson number 2. You’re gonna watch us fuck her.”
“Come sit on my cock, baby. Hurry up, don't waste his cum, wanna fuck you through it”, Joel told you, spanking your ass. He sat against the headboard and you straddled him. His gaze was unfathomable, but it wasn't the same man who had fucked you missionary in his bedroom. He was good at compartmentalizing, much better than you. You grabbed his cock and impaled yourself on it gently. “Fuck”, you mumbled. He was thick, much thicker than the guard, and you needed to lower yourself onto it slowly.
“You missed my cock, baby?” he asked you with a smirk.
You dug your nails into the flesh of his shoulders, as you gradually sank onto his shaft.
He smiled and grabbed your shoulder, and added “I missed your cunt too. God, I love to fuck you when you’re full of cum.”
The guard’s cum helped you get used to his cock. Joel grabbed your ass with his hands and started bouncing you on his cock. You bit your lip. Tommy was sat in a chair by the bed, his dick in his hand, and said “you look so fuckin’ pretty bouncing on my brother’s cock, baby.”
He came closer, jerking off, and said “suck my dick, baby. Make it wet, we’re gonna need it.”
You wondered how he was going to fuck you, but whether it was in your pussy too or in your ass, you knew you had to make it easier for you. He slipped his cock into your mouth without waiting.
“Shit, yeah, you’re hot baby, suckin’ my brother’s cock.”
He had slowed down the pace to allow you to suck Tommy properly.
“Look at that Joel, the kiddo is already hard again.”
“Nice. You’re gonna have another lesson today. Sharing a cunt with another cock. I hope you’re not one of those who doesn’t want two cocks touching?”
“No…no I don’t mind.”
“Good.”
Tommy kept thrusting into your mouth, while Joel's hand on the back of your head accompanied your movements until he shifted it to stroke your clit with his thumb. His cock was rubbing your core, filling you perfectly, as his finger was swirling your clit. Every time they both fucked you, you always forgot at one point or another the situation you were in. Only focusing on your sensations, and theirs.
“Look at that, kiddo. She’s gonna come soon. She loves taking our cocks so much, like a good little whore. Right, baby?”
You nodded, your mouth around Tommy's shaft.
“Yeah she’s so good at this. Prettiest mouth and prettiest cunt. Taking us so well”, Tommy added.
Your pussy contracted more and more on Joel's shaft, as his thumb gave you what you needed, until you came all over his cock.
“There we go…you’re doing great, baby.”
Tommy pulled out of your mouth, holding your cheek with his hand while you came down from your orgasm. Joel pulled you towards him, leaning forward to offer you to Tommy, who was already kneeling behind you.
“Ok, baby. One more dick”, he said.
“Yeah, that's what you want, baby, right?”
You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. You were used to both of them taking you by now. Used to the feeling of your pussy spreading on both of their cocks. Even if it still stretched painfully, as the second one thrust in. And somehow, taking them both, that abandonment, strangely made you forget your life in the camp.
You felt Tommy’s hand on your hip, and the head of his cock pressing against the dick already inside you. Using it to slide his member in.
“Oh fuck, men…that’s so hot,” said the guard who had moved closer to watch.
“Relax, baby…let me in. Yeah, just like that. Good girl.”
Tommy's praise had always helped you to relax, to turn you on. Today, like any other day. He usually did it in a lighter way than Joel, perhaps less degrading.
“Breathe, sweetheart.”
You did as he said, breathing slowly until his tip slid into your pussy, spreading you completely. You whined into Joel’s neck. 
“That’s a good girl”, he praised you.
“Look at you takin’ these cocks baby”, added Tommy as he continued to thrust in. “Yeah, just like that. One more dick in that cunt.”
They slid into you slowly, then gradually increased the pace. You heard them growl. Joel against your ear, Tommy on the back of your head.
“Gonna take my place after I fill her, man?” Tommy asked the guard.
“Yeah…fuck…Sure.”
“We’re stretching her good, damn…”
Tommy grunted and you felt his hot cum fill you, then some of it leaked out of your pussy.
“Thank you baby, another great fuck”, he said, kissing your shoulder.
You whimpered when he pulled out. Joel remained still and the guard knelt behind you again.
“Take it easy, don’t hurt her. Lean against my cock and slide gently.”
“Ok, sir”, he replied.
He rested his cock against Joel's, covered in Tommy's cum, and thrusted his tip in.
“Oh, fuck, she’s so tight.”
“Yeah, she is. That's good, uh? Come on kiddo, slide in. Slowly.”
The guard placed one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip, holding on for leverage. And they started to fuck you. Sometimes sliding together, sometimes alternating rhythms.
“You’re ok, baby? You’re taking our cocks so good, fuck…”
“Yeah, yeah…I’m ok.”
“You’re such a slut, baby…Always ready for more” you heard Tommy say.
“I’m…I’m gonna cum”, the guard whined.
“Come on, kiddo, fill her up. Then I’ll fuck her like she needs to get fucked”, Joel said as he looked at you, grabbing your cheeks in his hands and keeping you facing him.
You heard the guard grunt then freeze, adding his cum to Tommy's.
“Ah fuuuuuck, that’s hot, baby. You never disappoint”, Joel said.
The guard pulled out, and so did Joel, as he told you to stand on all fours while he knelt behind you.
“Yeah, I finally got this pretty pussy all to myself. I'm gonna fuck you rough baby. I know you want it. Hope I'll feel something. We really ruined you, uh?”
He slid into your pussy without waiting, hands clinging to your shoulders. Fucking you hard, without respite. Then he spat on your ass, rubbing your ring with his thumb, his other hand on your waist.
“Gonna fuck that ass. Pussy’s too ruined.”
“Wait, Joel!”
“Calm down, ain’t gonna hurt you.”
He pulled away, licking your ring and spitting on it as he jerked off. Then he positioned his cock covered by your wetness and the other men cum at your entrance.
“See, kiddo…that ass” - he thrust his tip in - “is so good” - pulled back - “that I can never stay too long” - he thrust in totally - “without fucking it. Oh fuck!!”
You laid your head on the pillow, moaning and fisting the pillow, as his hands were buried in the flesh of your hips, fucking your ass hard and deep. You heard him growl more and more.
“Look at that kiddo, she’s taking it so good”, Tommy praised you.
Joel thrust in a few more times, hands frozen on your hips, then he stopped, flooding your ass with his cum. He stayed there while he caught his breath, then withdrew.
“Kiddo, go pick up her girlfriend in 30 minutes.”
Then he looked at you and added “we have to keep teaching him how to fuck”, smirking.
You went back home.
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When Vic finally came home that night, you were waiting for her to go to bed. But the guard didn't leave, and told you to follow him, from the front door.
“Jesus Christ…how many times does he need to fuck today?” you mumbled, looking at her.
He didn’t accompany you to the fuckhouse, but to Joel's house, once again. You went upstairs and heard the shower running. You sat on Joel’s bed waiting for him to finish. When he came out a few minutes later, in boxers and a towel around his neck, his hair was still wet and drops of water were beading on his curls. He was magnificent, from head to toe. You looked at his body as he walked towards you. Several scars covered his torso.
“You’re staring, baby”, he said with a smile.
“Yeah, well…not only men can do that.”
He smiled even more when he heard you. He brushed past you without touching you, and went to bed. “You’re gonna sleep with me tonight.”
“What…I…didn’t bring any sleeping clothes.”
“You won’t need them.”
*************
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screaming But Daddy I Love Him
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wildemaven · 3 days
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When you find a mechanic who knows his way around all of your parts— guaranteed satisfaction when he’s done
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bunnysbrainrot · 1 day
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Unspoken Rules
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𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟹 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 '𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝' 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐.
Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader, Jackson!AU
Content: Angst, protective Joel, kissing, sexual themes, make out session, size kink (kind of?)
Summary: The day after the town dance, Joel doesn't seem so sentimental for your time together. The emotional rollercoaster leaves you confused. Something is off about him now, and it's taking everything in you to not leave yourself to blame. Finally, Joel tries setting a boundary, but will he hold to it?
[ A/N: For this series, I invite the reader to make up their own backstory for how they end up in Jackson. I'll keep descriptions in the chapters vague, as I didn't want to assign a backstory when it's something people can have such fun with! ]
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Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep
The gentle chirping of your watch pulls you from sleep, but not without some protest. You groan softly at a headache taking form and begin to regret last night's decisions. Prying an eye open, a green 6:31 AM shines back at you, though the sun hardly shows it through your curtains. A dim lavender sky peeks through instead.
What a nice start to the day, you think to yourself, sighing loudly as you shift to sit up; the rush of movement swells your pesky headache, making you squeeze your eyes shut.
"Shit," you grumble, rubbing your eyes, "fuckin' mead, man... never again."
And especially never before patrol day.
The thought of riding your horse through rough Wyoming terrain doesn't excite you. Instead, you get the gift of an unsettled stomach, but pull yourself out of bed nonetheless.
••••
"Good morning!"
Your neighbor's cheerful greeting rings in your head, but you know she means well. She'd been at the dance last night, too, but you didn't get a chance to talk, from what you remember, at least. Giving her a small wave, you force a smile you hope is genuine enough to sell the 'I'm not hungover' act.
The food stall is desolate, to your relief, save for the man running it. You seem him every time you stop by, though neither of you have exchanged names, but he has memorized your order already. His eyes shine genuinely when he hands you your food.
"It's good to see you again," the man says, "welcome to Jackson."
You smile appreciatively and take the sandwich, giving him a brief thanks before heading off. He provides breakfast for the patrol groups, but never wants anything in return. Maybe you could repay him, somehow, you think. Mulling it over, you tear into the sandwich while you make your way to the stables. The thick, earthy smell of hay wafts past, and the sputtering of horses sounds ahead.
Rounding the corner reveals today's patrol group - it's evidently much smaller than last time.
Joel doesn't turn when your footsteps approach. You spot the beautiful mare you'd ridden last patrol, Belle, occupied with a bucket of hay. She huffs loudly when you meet her, angling her head to look at you, before resuming her breakfast. Joel silently adjusts a hefty saddle onto his horse nearby. Clinking of metal clasps fills the silence before Joel breaks it.
"How's the hangover?"
There's a terseness in his tone, as if forcing a conversation he doesn't want to have. He doesn't turn to you when he asks the question.
You pause for a beat, "Kicking my ass a little."
Joel nods once, "Been there."
This Joel isn't the same man you danced with last night, this version doesn't remember, or simply doesn't care. Nothing from last night was special enough to hold onto today. Shame starts to sink in your uneasy stomach. So he really did mean it, when he called himself a fool for dancing with you.
"Where are we meeting up with the rest of the group?"
A casual tone masks the pain blooming in your chest, and the tears that prick your eyes. You wouldn't dare let them fall in front of Joel. He shouldn't know how much last night meant to you, even if he wouldn't bat an eye at your tears. It seems like last night's biggest mistake was thinking that he, somehow, was true to his actions. When his lips were brushing against your neck, hovering over your ear, before his tone had gone seductively darker.
"Just us today. Smaller groups help cover more ground."
It feels like an invisible string is pulled between you when he speaks, growing more taught with each bated breath and expressionless comment. You come to notice that Belle is already donning her saddle and gear, a task you hadn't done yourself.
Glancing at Joel, you hesitate, "Thank you for getting Belle ready."
Finally, he turns from his horse's saddle and shifts attention to you. A steely look in his eyes reprimands you without words. It didn't seem like a favor. He'd done your work for you.
"Saddling up is the boring part. Not as tricky as it looks, though. I'll ask Maria to show you how," he offers dismissively.
It’s a nice gesture, but the Maria part begins to register. He won’t show you, or doesn't want to spend time alone with you after what transpired last night. Confusion lingers in the back of your mind - Joel invited you to dance, and now it's as if you've never held a conversation before.
You nod, "Sounds good to me."
Even though it was not, in fact, good at all. Maybe last night really was some drunken mistake, but it wouldn't make sense of Joel's demeanor now.
Why did he look like he had something else to say?
••••
"Pretty day today," Joel states.
Sunlight streaks between distant mountain peaks, painting the morning fog with a breathtaking display of orange and yellow. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see how it casts a golden halo around Joel's salt and pepper hair, highlighting its warmer browns. He turns to his saddle bag, giving you a glimpse of his face; the sunlight works wonders. He's warmer and brighter... there's more life to him.
Joel gestures to one of the peaks ahead, "See that mountain over there? The shorter one to the right - we stop at the base of it. On the way out there, we're on lookout, gettin' rid of any stragglers. At the turn-around point we'll rest, and the trip back is supply pickup, in case we find anything."
You clear your throat, carrying on, "Got it... Must be a long route, hm?"
"At an average pace, 'bout two hours or so. If you're bookin' it, you could do it in less than one."
The talking is helpful when it's useful information, but anything else reminds you of last night, of that version of Joel. When he was in such stark contrast to this gruff personality, and if you were being honest, it had intrigued you. Pulled you in deeper.
In fact, from the moment you saw him, he caught your eye. On that chilly morning, where you stood timid and anxious amidst the crowd, something clicked in place when he'd briefly turned to you.
A certain roughness in his look told you that something, many things, has roughed him around the edges over the years. You couldn't tell his age, but you could assume that he witnessed the fall of everything. Back then, the world crumbled with the rise of the infection, its haunting mortality rate, and there was no hope of it being stopped after it had begun. You wondered what Joel's life had been before he ended up in Jackson - how his 'regular life' was, back when the world made more sense.
His accent is distinctly and seductively Southern, one you could listen to for hours. Clearly he isn't from around here - any kind of travel across so much terrain isn't an easy task, and it would take months at a steady pace.
So how the hell did he wind up in Jackson?
Joel reaches for a canteen of water, unscrewing the top and tossing his head back, taking in a few deep gulps. His jaw twitches as he drinks greedily, and follows it with a low, satisfied sigh when he's finished. The sound casts you into a void of unholy thoughts. Something tightens in your core, a feeling that, you now realize, you haven't had in months. Years, maybe.
Effortlessly, Joel shines light on an emotion you hadn't addressed to even yourself: a primal need for something.
••••
With the exception of picking off the straggling infected, the patrol is continuing quite smoothly. The sun is slowly inching its way across the sky, keeping you comfortably warm in a gentle breeze that relieves your dull headache. Now, Joel leads you down a path veering toward an open stretch of pasture at the base of the mountain. Peering ahead, you see the trail reach its end at the start of the field, and beyond spans into a sea of rolling hills that takes your breath away.
"How you doin' back there?" Joel asks.
"Still good," you reassure him.
He nods his head toward a fence far off in the pasture, "We go to the edge of the perimeter, then we loop around. We'll take a breather first, though."
You follow in his stead until he reaches the old wooden fence, dismounting his horse, and carefully tying its reigns to a nearby fence post. Dismounting Belle gives your hips and thighs a wave of relief to get some blood flowing again. You head to the fence on unsteady legs, leaning against the weathered wood as another gust of wind rushes by. The cool wind across your skin makes you turn to face its source, tossing your head back to invite its presence at your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, and the world melts away for a while.
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He wishes he could burn this image in his mind. You throwing your head back as the wind blows, entangling itself through your hair, your clothes. That soft smile tugging at your lips has him completely distracted before you let out a happy sigh. A soft, breathy sound that makes his imagination wander, against his better judgement.
After all, last night was a mistake.
The moment Cara had called for your attention, inviting you to join his group, Joel knew the night would end differently than he expected. You wore a shirt that accentuated every area his eyes shouldn't have wandered to, but they did. Across the lot, he'd watched you dance for hours, spinning and twirling and laughing and really, truly, living. He could see a light in you, a fire that couldn't be put out.
But if you're a fire, Joel is gasoline.
"Listen," he starts. He already knows where this is heading, that he's ruined this moment, and that there will be nothing in his power to make it any better.
But he can't let you fall into a delusion. This idea that you want him, yet you have no idea of what's underneath. He can't have you focused on him when there's a whole community to serve. He's doing a service by telling you now, he assures himself.
Nipping it in the bud.
You turn to face him quickly, knowingly. He can tell by your fidgeting hands that you might know what's coming. And he can see it in your wide-eyed expression, still somewhat hopeful. He braced himself to see that face fall.
"What happened last night... ain't my best moment. I didn't hold myself back when I shoulda have, and I..." he straightens, "it can't happen again."
The words come out meaninglessly. Joel speaks, but can't hear himself, his words come from some far-off mental script he'd prepared when he'd gotten home last night. He can see it hit you - the realization, the way your body goes completely still. Your bottom lip trembles slightly, yet you hold a solid smile despite the hurt he sees in your eyes. Your hands have frozen in place, knuckles growing white from gripping them together so tightly.
"I-I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have gotten so carried away," you explain.
Your apology is a blow to his gut. Have you been blaming yourself this whole time? As if you could even be at fault. Joel asked you to dance. You were about to go home, and he asked you to stay out of his own selfishness.
He needed that light, that fire. A brightness that only you've possessed, and it had him hooked from the first time you'd spoken, at last patrol. You had strayed away from your position in the party and had wound up next to him. It hadn't registered who had joined him, and before he had the chance to issue a harsh 'stay back', there you were, in complete awe.
Joel remembers it clearly: the way your eyes shone with delight, an infectious smile that for a moment, lifted his spirits. Every patrol was the same. Same people, same routes, over and over and over again with exhausting mundanity. Until you came along.
There was a light about you he could not touch.
In every way you are his opposite. On one hand, Joel is harsh, serious, and doesn't care much about his impact on others, let alone their feelings. You, on the other hand, represent everything Joel could've had for himself - kind, flexible, and you naturally cared for others.
Joel can't seem to remember when he lost that side of himself. He doesn't understand your capacity for kindness in a world this dark.
"You shouldn't be apologizing for anything," he says.
You pause and look toward the ground, wringing your hands again, "I should've just gone home."
If you had, you wouldn't be on the verge of tears right now.
A surge of regret fills his chest. Someone as kind as you doesn't deserve the pain of rejection; you should have someone who cherishes you, who can appreciate your softness without tainting it.
"Why'd you stay?"
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There was no use for excuses now.
It's harder to meet his eyes this time, but you want to see his reaction to your answer.
"Because you asked me to dance."
Confusion knits Joel's eyebrows together when he asks, "And that was so special?"
"Yes. Was it not that way for you?"
He opens his mouth to answer, yet he hesitates. The long pause doesn't much to help your confusion, you truly want to know, to hear it from him first. If it wasn't important, it'd be easier to forget it happened in the first place.
It would certainly be easier than an unrequited love. Anything is easier.
"That's not what I said."
"It's implied," you state. Joel averts his gaze to the fence, idly picking at a loose piece of wood. "It's alright if it wasn't, I just... I need to know."
Another beat passes before he gives his answer, at long last. Joel matches your pose from earlier and leans with his back against the fence.
"It was. Special, that is," he says gently. That softness in his voice was greatly missed, and it's a breath of fresh air to hear it once more. "It's just... you're still new here. I don't want you getting distracted-"
"Are you calling yourself a distraction?"
Joel's eyes dart to you, "Am I not?"
You press your lips into a thin line, making his question ultimately rhetorical. He nods once, then turns his head to you. The intensity of his stare demands it to be met, so you meet his eyes and find a playfulness there, a hint of the Joel from last night.
"Am I one?"
"Telling you would just give you ideas," he teases.
You smirk, "So I am."
"The worst kind."
Shifting your weight on your feet reminds you of the soreness in your legs, so you lift your arms, and push yourself onto the top of the fence, dangling your legs over the side. The silence between you now isn't as uncomfortable as earlier. No, this is the silence of anticipation, wondering what or who will give a resolution.
"What about me is so distracting?" You ask.
In place of words, Joel makes his way to you, positioning himself in front of your swinging legs, which now shook a little more than you'd like to admit. He closes the gap with hands on either side of you, gripping the wood beneath his rough fingers.
There's no way to place his expression when he looks at you again.
He replies, voice low and strained, "Everything."
You can't miss it when his eyes wander to your lips, hovering there a moment longer than he needed to. Taking the opportunity you look at his as well - you knew they were soft, but hadn't felt much of them. Need and hunger are all you can feel as you stare.
When his lips meet yours, there's something that tells you that maybe this situation was inevitable. One look at him, and you knew how you felt, and exactly how willing you'd be to take your time with him.
But today, Joel doesn't need time. He knows what he wants.
He groans into your mouth when you move your lips against his - the sound of a starved animal finally getting their fill. It draws a moan from you, matching him in a sweet harmony. There's a gap between you still, that simply isn't enough.
You reach forward in search of the waistband of his jeans, hook your fingers through his belt loops, and tug Joel forward. His mouth crashes into yours once again, skirting his tongue across your bottom lip, begging for entry. One at a time, you wrap your legs around Joel's waist and secure yourself tightly against him, gripping at his shoulders with a ferocity you didn't recognize.
It's not as slow as you would've liked him to go, but it's the pace you need. For how long it felt to wait, for how impatient you'd been.
And he knows how to deliver it.
His hands roam carefully around your waist, squeezing and fondling with an avarice that shows he's been waiting just as impatiently. Every caress sets you alight, erupting goosebumps along your arms and neck, which Joel is slowly shifting his attention to.
"Joel," you pant, but it's all you can muster. There's more to the sentence, but his lips stop you. They play at the soft skin below your jaw, suckling gently before his tongue slides along your supple flesh, bringing himself to your ear.
He catches your earlobe between his teeth and bites playfully. Another moan falls past your lips, another breathy utterance of his name. Joel plants a kiss below your ear. You card your fingers through his hair, tugging at the soft strands.
"Careful, pretty girl," says Joel, reaching upward to support your head as it's thrown back in pleasure. He weaves his fingers into your hair for a comfortable grip, and pulls your head back further.
The constriction chokes you, but you smile anyway at the dull pain from where he holds you. With his strength, he has you exactly where he wants you, and can keep you there. The high-pitched moan you sing next has Joel losing his composure, his actions growing sloppier as you continue.
But, to your surprise, he releases you first.
Joel pulls back with a final kiss pressed to your lips again, a deep and savoring one. The back of your head stings from the grip he held on it, though it gives you a rush of adrenaline you won't trade for anything.
The sigh he lets out is one you can recognize, because you're breathing the same one.
This complicates things.
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Hi guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it took a long time to write, and I think it's because it's not smut, and it was very frustrating, so next chapter will have a LOT more (i'm already plotting)
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pedropcl · 2 days
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THE LAST OF US
S01E04: Please Hold to My Hand | dir. Jeremy Webb
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arcanefox207 · 1 day
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The Wolf You Feed (Part 2)
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 5.6k
Part 2 / ? (Ongoing Series) (AO3)
Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.
Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50). Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. POV Switching. Series contains Angst and lots of Smut (to avoid chapter specific spoilers you can expect things such as but not limited to Unprotected PiV, Cream Pies, Oral, Masturbation, Dom!Joel, Subby reader, Pining, Infidelity) 
A/N: In case you are just jumping in, you can read Part 1 here. Part 2 is more smut heavy! I aim to have Part 3 out much sooner as time allows!
A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S
Comments / Reblogs are so incredibly appreciated and give me the motivation to write 🧡
Without further ado... for your reading pleasure.
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It’s late on Saturday morning and you have a pot of coffee brewing while you shower. You stand in the stream of hot water far longer than you need to. Your thoughts shrouded by your evening with Joel Miller. How rough but passionate his touch was. How he made you get on your knees for him. How he tasted and how badly you wanted… needed  more of him. Your hands trace over tender spots where he held onto you and you relish the memory. 
He tested your obedience and you followed his orders. You hope it turned him on as much as it did you. You liked surrendering yourself to him. Despite his roughness you felt safe with him. You couldn’t explain it yet but you could feel that his burly facade was hiding something softer. 
You finally step out onto the cool tile and dry off in front of the mirror. You pat your hair down with your towel and when the steam starts to dissipate you catch how happy you look. An old you that you have not recognized for a long, long time. 
You smile to yourself and resolve to put Joel out of your mind for now or nothing would be getting done today. 
The coffee helps wake you up enough to plan out your morning. There is a light coating of fresh snow and the sky looks gray and ominous. A big storm is expected to hit overnight so you head into town to pick up some food and provisions. You make a quick stop at Grind when you see Marlene’s car parked in front.
There are a few customers and you are surprised to see Marlene working. By her expression, she wasn’t too pleased to be there.
“Hey!” You greet her as you approach the counter. “You got stuck working today?”
“Yeah, someone called out.” she rolled her eyes. “Don’t feel too bad for me, it’s your turn next.” she jokes. A teenager is busy checking out a customer and another is making a latte. Marlene steps away for a moment to chat with you.
“So…” she prods. “How did it go?” You fail to hide your smile and thoughts of Joel overtake you once again. 
“It went… great.” 
“When can I meet him?” 
You laugh nervously at her question.
“Lets not jump ahead. Right now it’s just something… casual.” 
She is skeptical of your reply and stares at you for a moment, trying to will more out of you, but you don’t give in. 
“Ok. Whatever you say.” She rolls her eyes again. “I have to get back to work, but you are going to have to tell me sooner or later.” She points at you and furrows her brow. 
“Yeah, Yeah.” You joke. “See you Monday!”
You leave the shop and cross the street to the grocery store. The place is mobbed and the shelves wiped out of the most in demand items. You grab a few things and chat with your mom who calls you to check in. Rather, to tell you all about her excursions and gossip about people you have never even met. You don’t mind and just tell her things are going well, you like your job and let her ramble on, not really listening. Mindless chatter in your ears while you shop. 
She does catch you off guard when she mentions hearing about the storm and “Joel will plow for us if we ask him to” casually. Your ears perk at the mention of his name but you act cool and collected. You don’t like the way she volunteers his services so nonchalantly. It strikes a nerve in you and reminds you of how she always insinuates you are incapable of being responsible. It makes you feel defensive for Joel, too. Her disregard for his time further illustrating how self centered she is. This was one of the factors that pushed you away for so many years. 
“Your father will call him later—” 
Absolutely not. You interrupt her sternly mid-sentence. 
“Mom. I will take care of it.” The last thing you want is your parents harassing Joel or trying to control you from across the country. This was a string you needed to make clear was not going to be attached to your current living arrangement.
“I have things under control.” 
“Oh… ok then.” Her tone is short and then she is off talking about her beach plans again. This goes on for another 10 minutes and by now you are in the checkout line. You say your goodbyes and calculate another week or two before you have to do that all over again. 
You hadn’t really considered the snow aftermath but you had a shovel and your car would be good enough to get out of your driveway… probably. You were not going to bother Joel regardless. 
The call puts you in a bad mood as you drive home. The spitting snow reminds you of the impending storm. The cheerful start of the day is gone and replaced with a heavy feeling.
You drive past Joel’s house and wonder if he is home and what he is doing. Wonder if you should call him. Wonder why he has not reached out to you either. You don’t want to be that girl. It’s not like you and him are anything. You shouldn’t be expecting anything from him. However, you still feel a faint sting of disappointment. Maybe he had his fun and that was it. Self doubt poisons your mind but you try to swallow it back. 
The rest of the day you spend eating junk food and watching movies on Netflix. You fall asleep on the couch early in the night before forcing yourself into bed. The wind and snow has ramped up and your power flickers. 
You pull your comforter tightly over you and take one last look at your phone but you already know there is nothing from Joel. 
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Saturday Night (Joel POV)
Joel sits up in his loft on his worn out couch, strumming his guitar. He takes a sip of his whiskey, neat, and poorly mouths the words to his song. 
He plays a few more riffs but feels distracted and unfocused. All attempts to keep busy have been ineffective today. He spent the afternoon preparing his truck and stacking firewood. Once that work was done he had nothing but free time.
The truth is, you have been on his mind. It was hard not to think about you. He had only explored the tip of the iceberg with you and wanted more. He knew it wasn’t right to pursue you for a magnitude of reasons, but the desire was not waning. He felt things with you that he had not felt in a long time. Feelings he was afraid to give in to.      
Joel replaces the guitar in his hands with his phone and hovers your name in the recent contacts.  This isn’t the first time today he has almost called you. 
What are you doing, stupid. He thinks to himself. 
He shuts down the moment of weakness and locks his phone. He knocks back the last of his whiskey and heads downstairs. He turns on his TV to the local news and listens to them fuss over the storm. He knew tomorrow would be a busy one for him with his side hustle as the plow guy many locals depended on. Just another thing to keep him busy. 
He goes to take a shower before calling it an early night.
The shower is hot and comforting and in no time his mind is wandering back to you. He thought about your brief evening together and how intriguing you were. How bold you were. How tight you were when he was fingering you and how needy you sounded.  
He puts a fist against the shower wall to brace himself and hangs his head low so his shoulders block the bulk of the water. He uses his free hand to wrap around his semi-hard cock. He remembers your playful hold on him and gently strokes himself. It doesn’t take very long to get hard as he relives that moment in his mind. His strokes get harder and faster and he wishes he was fucking into you and not his own hand.
He groans as he comes and watches his spend drip down the shower walls and into the drain. His few moments of bliss quickly fade away. He balls his fist in frustration at his unfulfilling release. He needs more. He needs you. 
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Your Sunday morning begins with anything but peace and calm. You are startled awake by the grinding sound of heavy metal dragging across pavement. You look outside your bedroom window and see the snow has blanketed everything and there are still a few lingering flurries dancing in the sky. The trees are struggling with bent over branches coated in ice and snow. 
Leaving your warm and cozy blanket fortress is the last thing you want to do. You lazily grab a hoodie to pull over your oversized shirt you slept in and your pajama shorts and make your way to the front of the house. The floor is cold on your feet but the air is warm. You cranked the thermostat before bed, making you feel rebellious in the moment but it seemed silly and wasteful now.
You look out the front window that faces the driveway. There you see Joel Miller in his truck, plow attached, barreling towards you and crashing into a snowbank he started building up. He looked so serious and professional backing up his truck with an arm stretched across his seat as he looked over his shoulder. He was so focused he was not aware you were watching him and his scowl at work. 
It doesn’t take long before that familiar ache between your legs returns. The longing to let Joel have his way with you. A desire that is getting harder and harder to ignore.
The realization that you look like you just woke up from bed hits and you scramble to the bathroom to run a comb through your hair and brush your teeth. You can hear the drag of the plow continue as you finish up and then rush to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. The stove clock reads 7:32am. Way too fucking early for a Sunday morning.
You hear his truck door slam and the sound of crunchy snow under his boots. He is walking with a heavy foot and grabs the shovel leaning by your door.
Joel is shoveling your walkway, weaving a modest path for you to get from your house to your driveway without trudging through the snow. You can hear him grunt as he tosses the heavy snow out of the way. What would have taken you probably an hour takes him just a few minutes. 
He plunges the shovel into a snowbank when he reaches the end of the path and leans on it to catch his breath. He looks exhausted and rightfully so. You want to comfort him in whatever way you can. At least offer him some respite to show your appreciation. As much as you hate to admit it, you would have been totally fucked if you had to tackle your driveway with your inadequate self. Joel saves the day, again.
You crack open the front door and call out to Joel, reluctantly interrupting his moment of peace. 
“Hey!” 
He slowly turns in your direction when he hears your voice. His eyes scrunch as he makes out your figure hanging out the door. He gives a lazy wave of acknowledgment. 
“Come inside and warm up? I made coffee.” 
He picks up the shovel to return it and makes his way towards you. 
“Yeah, ok. Just for a minute” He follows you inside.
Joel closes the door hard behind him and scuffs his boots on the mat to get off any snow. He brushes his hand quickly over the top of his head to knock off any lingering snow and unbuttons his jacket. He empties his pockets and puts his wallet and phone on the end table. He saunters over to you as you hand him a fresh cup of coffee, black. 
“Thanks.” He manages a smile. He returns to the living room and groans as he lowers himself to the couch. He recklessly sips his piping hot beverage and seems immune to the searing heat and delighted to have it.  He rests his mug on the table and leans back and closes his eyes. His hand comes up to his brow as he pinches his thumb and finger together across his eyes.   
You lean against the doorway between the rooms and sip your coffee. You notice how tired and worn he looks. His damp hair is shiny. His heat is melting the last few snowflakes and making him look messy and wet. His jacket is open and disheveled and his flannel undershirt is haphazardly draping on him as he slouches back. 
Despite all that he is still as handsome as ever and you like seeing him this way. Vulnerable in this out-of-character state. 
“Tired.” He grunts with his eyes closed and it snaps you out of your thoughts. “Been a long morning.” 
You take a few steps towards him to close the gap.
“I’m too old for this.” He sneers as he looks at you with lazy, heavy lids.
“You didn’t have to worry about me, you know…” Your voice trails off as you wonder if he was there on his own volition. You can’t help but ask. You need to know.
“Did… did my dad call you?” 
“No.” he answers firmly with a suspicion in his tone, almost sounding offended. 
“Good. I mean, thank you. That was really nice of you to come over.” You pause and smile at him. You feel guilty, but also have never had someone so capable looking out for you before.  
“I was going to shovel it.” 
He raises his brow at the ridiculous claim.
“No you weren’t. Wouldn’t have let you if I saw ya out there.”
“Well.. Thank you.” 
“S’nothing. I don’t mind… having an excuse to see ya.” His brows raise and wrinkle in the middle. He has a softened expression as he looks into your eyes. 
Your heart skips a beat and is heavy in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it beating. Having an excuse to see you. You replay it in your mind. He wants to see you. You feel stupid for getting carried away thinking otherwise.    
You put your coffee down next to his and casually walk around to the back of the couch. There is a force compelling you to comfort him. Encourage him to relax. That fluttering feeling in your stomach surges. Joel Miller is exhausted on your couch and isn’t going to be putting up much of a fight if you fuss over him and you want to fuss over him. 
You stand behind him and reach your arms down and spread them slowly from his shoulders down to his sides. He lets out a tiny moan as you circle his taut muscles. You pinch and massage them as you go. You lean forward and bring your mouth just behind his ear. 
“You don’t need an excuse to see me.” It comes out softly and seductive. You can feel his body tense under your words. 
You rake your hands back up to his shoulders and curl your fingers under his open jacket. He halfway cooperates as you tug the jacket off his shoulders and pull it away from him. It's wet and heavy and most of the snow has melted into it by now. You toss it on the back of the couch and return to his shoulders. Your hands massage him and you can feel his muscles tight and knotted under your grasp. His head tilts back into the couch as he lets you tenderly work him.
“Feels good. Really good.” He says in a low, almost inaudible tone. His exhaustion has let his body surrender to you and he isn’t fighting to be in control. 
You lean forward again and plant your mouth on his jawline with a sensual kiss. His damp whiskers prickle your cheek as you drag it against him and go to his ear.
“Let me take care of you.”
He makes a deep, throaty sound in response. 
His flannel is damp and hot and he looks so uncomfortable and stuffy now that he has been inside a while. You slide one of your hands down to his chest and unbutton his shirt. You are halfway down and he reaches his arm up and curls his fingers behind your neck, pulling you down to his mouth. You can feel the shift in the room, like you woke a sleeping bear. 
“Come here.” He uses his free hand to tap his lap and loosens his grip on you.
You walk around to the front of the couch and stand in front of Joel. His legs are spread and he is still lazily slouched back but he motions for you to join him. His half unbuttoned shirt teases you with his thermal undershirt peeking out, still hiding his bare skin. At least you are getting closer.   
You step towards him and move to straddle him on the couch. You have a leg on each side and he puts a hand on each hip under your baggy sweatshirt. 
His hold is tender but makes you melt when you feel the wingspan his fingers have on you. His thumbs brush over your hip bones and trace down to the soft skin just above the crease of your thigh as he casually dips them along your waistband. His touch sends sparks through your skin. 
He lazily stares you down with a narrow gaze over his nose, still resting his head back. 
“Keep going.” He closes his eyes as your focus goes back to finish unbuttoning his shirt.   
As you get close to his jeans you can feel him hardening and straining against the zipper.
You pop open the button and carefully unzip him. His cock springs loose in his boxer shorts. It teases you behind the cloth barrier and you reach for his waistband so you can grab a hold of him. His fingers dig into your sides and he pushes you back slightly to make you stop. He fights through the laziness and is now fully alert. 
“You want my cock?” He grits through his teeth.  “Think it’ll fit in your pretty pussy?” He drags one of his hands to your center and grabs you through the fabric. He smirks as he can feel you are wet and damp through your thin sleep shorts. His fingers sneak into the leg hole of your shorts and he teases your clit through your cotton underwear. You clench remembering the stretch from his thick fingers deep inside you just the other night.
“Yes–” your words catch in your throat as he pushes your underwear aside and thumbs over your folds. He barely touches you and opts to tease you instead, deliberately feathering over your swollen clit. You reach down to grab the wrist of his occupied hand and grind into his fingers. Your body craves the friction. 
“Fuck me, Joel.” 
His eyes darken and with a devilish smirk he takes his hand back and watches as you slide off him to take off your clothes. He looks at your body with a sleazy ferocity. If any other guy looked at you that way you would have slapped him, but not Joel Miller. You want his attention and you like the way it makes you feel when he is eyeing you like a starving wolf.
You pull off your hoodie and shirt and toss them to the piles of clothes building up on the floor. You stand in front of him completely naked. Exposed.  Joel brings out a side of you that makes you feel confident and bold. The way he looks at you with intrigue and desire encourages you. You take a brief moment to tease him back and drag your hands over your breasts and one continues down to your cunt. 
Joel stirs in his seat. He is so easy to rile up. He pulls off his flannel and kicks off his boots. His thermal long sleeve remains hugging his body in all the right places. He arches forward as his hand grabs his thermal from the back and pulls it off over his head. It makes a prickly, staticy sound as it brushes over his hair. He tosses it to the ground and for the first time you can fully take in his body without so many layers hiding him. 
His broad shoulders and chest taper down to a narrowed waist. His body is rugged and defined. For an older man his physique had been well maintained thanks to his lifestyle. His tanned skin and his messy, dark hair with silver streaks sends tingles through you. You have never been so physically drawn into someone before on a level that almost felt primal. 
His eyes sweep your body up and down as he drags his thumb along the side of his mouth and rakes his fingers through his scruff on his chin. He bites his lip while he drinks you in. 
“Damn, baby.”  He curls his thumbs inside the band of his jeans and tugs them down along with his boxers. He kicks them off his legs and reaches towards you, wrapping around the back of your thigh and beckons you to return to him. 
“Come ‘ere”
Your eyes gape as you take in his sheer size. It is intimidating but makes you ache with desire. 
You are back in his lap straddling him with little coercion needed. You stretch an arm behind you to hold yourself up and the other touches yourself. This position lets him take all of you in; bare, exposed and wanting. Wet and needy for him. 
His hand reaches for his throbbing cock. He palms himself with a few labored strokes. He is already beading precome at the tip. You feel a pang of jealousy and wish it was your body wrapped around him. He catches the hungry way you are looking at him. You catch how much he likes it. 
“You wanna ride this cock?” He brushes the tip against your opening and you let out a whimper in response and lurch forward. You brace yourself on his forearm and your other hand pushes against his chest to keep yourself upright. His skin is firm as you grip into him. His body hot and radiating like a furnace.    
“Haven’t gotten you off my mind since Friday.” He confesses. “Thinking about how tight my cock would fit in you.” He teases you with the tip again. Your whimper grows into a needy moan making him harder. Making him want you that much more. 
He crudely spits into his hand and rubs it along his shaft and then he notches it at your entrance. You can feel your body begging to be filled with him and you’ve been wet since you woke up to him in your driveway. You’ve lost count how many times you imagined Joel fucking you. He puts his hands back on your hips with a rough grip and you move your hands to his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself onto him. He helps keep you steady. 
“Joel! Fuck–” You moan. His thick cock sears your skin as it stretches you. He is slowly splitting you open inch by inch and you have never felt more full. He lets you control the pace for now, with pained restraint. He searches your eyes to make sure it isn’t too much. He knows he is a lot to take but the slowness is making him go insane. 
Joel lets out a grunt as he gets closer to bottoming out inside you. Your walls clench around him and the sweet pain from the stretch subsides as your body adjusts to his size. You slowly ride him up and down until you have him fully sheathed inside you. Your body is so full you don’t even have room to form complete thoughts. You can only focus on his burning hot heat inside you, tearing you open. Every moment before this pales in comparison.
“Fuck. So tight.” he snarls. His grip on you tightens as he pulls your body up and then thrusts into you, hard. He keeps the pace slow but more forceful than you were. He tries to be gentle but you can feel his patience slipping away.
One hand drags to his biceps where sweat is glistening. As he lifts you his muscles flex and contract he makes it seem so effortless to maneuver your smaller frame. Everything about Joel is big and strong and rigid. The epitome of masculinity.
Each thrust up into you makes you dizzy. You can feel yourself on the verge of orgasm, cock drunk and blissed-out. His heavy breathing and hitches in his voice send you over the edge as he pounds up into you. You ride the wave as he fucks you through it. Your arms entangle in each other and your bodies slap together, sweaty and panting. Your incoherent words and moans heighten with each thrust.
He makes you feel alive and pleasured in a way that you have never felt before. It is intoxicating. 
As you start to come down from the high you feel him getting close to his own release but he is still reserved and careful with you. Through gritted teeth he tries to keep his pace steady and builds you back up, never quite letting you recover.  
“Joel, Don’t… don’t hold back.” You manage to get out of your lips. You stare into him with hooded eyes and can only imagine how fucked out you look. He brings one of his hands up to the side of your face and strokes his thumb tenderly across your cheekbone.
“Ok, baby.” 
He leans into you and in a sweeping motion he twists and lays you back into the adjacent couch cushion. It is more of an oversized loveseat and not very ideal. He barely loses contact with your body as he positions himself above you. You can feel his weighty cock press into you and pin you in place as he leans forward, crowding you in the cramped confines of the couch.  
His mouth is on yours; rough and messy. He bites at your lip as he pulls away and reigns in his focus. Your legs clamp around his sides and your arms hold onto his neck. Your fingers snake into his hair and you grab hold of him. He slides his hands down your sides so he can hold you close as he resumes fucking into you. 
With this leverage, he somehow hits you deeper than before. His cock kisses the deepest parts of you again and again. Your sides bruise as he grips you harder. All his gentle inhibitions have been replaced with raw, unhinged furor. 
His pace quickens as you can feel him coming undone inside you. He is in a frenzy fucking you hard and deep and his grunts get louder. The heavy feel of him dragging out of you and shoving back with such force has you crying out his name along with a steady stream of expletives. 
You are so close but you beg your body to hold on, you don’t want the feeling to end. You want to live in this moment forever being trapped under Joel and being filled with his cock. You moan out his name as the second orgasm explodes through your body.  
“Fuck, baby..” his body quivers as he tries to hold out long enough for you to peak. 
He suddenly sits up and groans as he drags completely out of you. You whimper at the loss of him inside you and his wet, leaking cock slaps onto your belly. He strokes himself once with a heavy fist and grunts as hot ropes of cum spurt onto you. You relish being branded in his release. It coats your stomach and drips messily onto your cunt. You revel in the last fleeting moments of your orgasm being shared with Joel’s.   
He languidly strokes himself a few more times until he is empty. His chest rises and falls quickly as he breathes shallowly. His muscles weaken as the high from his climax rolls through him. 
He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. The sticky mess spreads between your bellies as his body pushes into you. It's lewd and you love it. You love how filthy Joel makes you feel. All you can smell is sweat and sex and Joel.
He presses a kiss to your forehead and then sits back to catch his breath. Your bodies untangle and he goes back to his original spot on the couch. You stay laying back lazily with a leg draped casually over Joel and the other bent at the knee. You still need a moment for your legs to be in any condition to work properly. 
One of his hands rests on your thigh and he grazes it with comforting drags of his fingers. He doesn’t say anything but the gentle contact from him is welcome. The connection you share now is so contrasting to when he was railing you. It is a side of Joel that feels like a privilege granted to you.
The calm is interrupted by a vibration of his phone. Joel reluctantly picks it up to look at the screen and groans with disappointment. He answers it but doesn’t stop rubbing you gently while he conducts his business. 
“Fred, I’ll be there in 20.” 
You can’t make out the other end entirely but you can detect a man's voice. He doesn’t sound happy.
“Yeah, I’m running behind. Your house is next.” Joel tries to placate him. More chatter and you start to feel bad for holding him up. 
You move off of Joel and make your way towards the bathroom to wipe up the mess on your belly and grab your silky bathrobe off the door.  
“Ok, Fred. Be there soon.” You hear him hang up and toss his phone down with a grumble. He turns in your direction as he stands up to pull on his jeans. 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I gotta’ go.” His tone is solemn now. You pop out of the bathroom and catch him using his undershirt to wipe up his mess. It’s gross but you like seeing him being comfortable being a typical, nasty man in your presence. Points for being resourceful.
“I heard. Didn’t mean to hold you up.” 
He glares at you and smirks as you make your way back to him. 
“Didn’t mind one bit.” He takes a few steps towards you to meet you halfway and kisses you on the top of your head while he wraps his arms around you. He breathes you in with his embrace and it feels so perfect being wrapped up by Joel. A final moment before it all ends and he pushes away from you, reluctantly. 
“And s’not a big deal. Snow aint going anywhere.” He says as he puts his flannel on, sans the thermal, and starts to button back up. 
His messy hair is mostly dry now and even more unruly with wild curls. You feel that fire inside you building again. It’s insatiable. You don’t want him to go. 
He laces up his boots and gathers his things. 
“Ok. I’m gonna hop in the shower.” 
“Ok, baby.” You exchange a final look and go your separate ways. You feel his eyes on you as you return to the bathroom. 
When you go back to the living room he is gone. All that remains is his dirty shirt and an empty coffee cup. 
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Sunday Night (Joel POV)
After a few more hours of plowing Joel returns home. 
He takes a shower just long enough to wash the sweat and stink of exhaust from his body.
He pours himself a whiskey and collapses on the couch to relax. 
His body is weary, but his mind is still firing. It has not stopped. He has to face the reality that he is falling for you, whether or not he should be. 
He pulls out his phone and stares at it blankly. Hesitating. He scrolls through his contacts until he finds the one that he has been avoiding. He knocks back his drink and sends the text.
Joel: Tess. We need to talk.
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Thank you to @magpiepills for beta-ing 🧡
Love to my ladies that mean everything @magpiepills @legendary-pink-dot @youandmeand5bucks @exquisiteserotonin @for-a-longlongtime @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @redhotkitchen 🧡
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