Girls just want to make you mad so youâll fuck them harder
Keni
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@jk-momma
Girls just want to make you mad so youâll fuck them harder
Easy Fix
Pairing: Daddy's best friend + mean!joel miller x f!reader
Summary:Â It was just supposed to be an easy fix. On the stuffed animal, thighs gripping it and in your mind your daddy's best friend. Surely, you hadn't planned for him to catch you. Or to bend you over his knee. Or to be balls deep into you the next moment, right?
Warnings: 18+, Smut, Mean!joel (he is back!!), huge age gap (20s and 60s), grinding on stuffed bear, orgasm denial, spanking, size kink, pet names, praise kink, slight degradation, pinv, clit rubbing, unprotected sex, crying, slight dub-con, darcyphilia, slight fauxcest (Joel calls himself uncle), dbf!joel, stern but also sweet joel, slight hair pulling, no outbreak
A/N:Â ummm my ADHD has been doing parkour in my brain so Sleazy!joel is taking his sweet time đ BUT I did write this little filler based on the mean!joel idea I had a few days ago, so enjoy this filthy mess pookies <333
Being home again isâŠunusual, to say the least.
Memories, emotions, things you thought youâd outgrown. You kneel besides an open box, sorting through old notebooks and trinkets, but your mind keeps wandering.
When you straighten up, your eyes catch the stuffed animal sitting in the corner of your bed, its fur a little worn, its button eye slightly crooked.
It looks like its been already waiting for you.
But you know that your dad mentioned that Joel was gonna stop by and pick up some tools he wants to borrow for a weekend project andâthat could be nothing unusual, since Joel has been like an uncle to you while growing up but right now with the house so empty and your thoughts running, you find yourself giving in to that secret itch, straddling your old stuffed bear on the bed.
That plush toy, with its threadbare fur and button eyes, has been your guilty escape for years, especially with thoughts of Joel creeping into your fantasies back thenâhis broad shoulders, that deep voice, the way he handles everything around the house while having that strict, authoritative way about himâthe same tone your dad uses, only sharper, meaner, and somehow aimed always right at you.
Your skirt is bunched around your waist, panties tugged aside, and you're rocking slowly, the soft seam of the bear's belly pressing juuuust right against your aching clit.
But lost in the rhythm...you do not hear the front door opening downstairs.
Heavy footsteps echo up the stairs, pausing outside your door. A knockâlight, hesitant.
"Hey, kiddo? Your dad around? He said he'd leave them tools in the kitchen, but I figured I'd check up here too." Joel's voice; that thick, rough, southern drawl wrapping around the words like warm gravel.Â
Before you can even respond, the door creaks open, and there he is...tall and big, flannel shirt sleeves rolled up over forearms corded with muscle, jeans hugging his solid thighs.Â
His eyes widen as he takes in the scene: you frozen mid-grind, thighs spread over the bear, your face flushing hot with embarrassment.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he growls, "What in the hell are you doin', girl? Humpin' away on some goddamn stuffed bear like a bitch in heat? Your daddy'd skin you alive if he saw this shit."Â
He doesn't yell. Yet. But there's an edge to it, stern, like he's caught you sneaking cookies, not this.Â
His jaw tightens, and he averts his eyes for a beat, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, the picture of a man wrestling with himself.Â
'Shouldn't even be in here. This ain't right. Girl's barely outta her teens, and here I am, starin' at... fuck.' Guilt flashes across his weathered face, creasing those lines around his eyes, but his boots stay rooted to the floorboards.Â
He doesn't back out. Instead, his gaze flicks back to you, conflicted, a flicker of something darker stirring beneath the disapprovalâhis jeans tensing slightly at the crotch, betraying him.
You scramble to pull your skirt down, heart pounding, but the words stick in your throat.Â
"Joel, Iâit's not what itâ"Â
He steps closer, slow, like he's approaching a skittish animal, his big frame making the room feel small.Â
"Save the excuses, honey. What would your daddy think, huh? Me walkin' in on his little girl like this, all desperate and spread out on a damn toy? He trusts me to look after you when he's out, not to...hell, this is a mess." His tone's firm, paternal almost, laced with that sternness, but there's a coo in the way he says 'honey,' softening the rebuke just a touch.Â
He reaches out, his large hand gentle as he grips your upper arm, pulling you off the bear with ease.Â
The toy tumbles to the side, fur matted with your slickness, and you stand there on shaky legs, panties still to the side, feeling tiny next to him.
"Now, you listen here," he says, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed besides him as he lowers his weight onto the mattress.Â
His thigh presses against yours, warm and solid, and you can feel the heat radiating from himâthe hard line of his cock straining against his jeans, impossible to ignore.Â
"You're better than this, sweetheart. Rubbin' yourself raw on some childhood relic 'cause those boys at school ain't cuttin' it? That's no way to learn about your body." He pauses, hand resting on your knee, thumb traicng slow circles. "But actin' like your uncle, I gotta teach you right. Can't have you hurtin' yourself on nothin' but fluff."
Your breath hitches at the contact, arousal pooling hotter despite the embarrassment.Â
"Joel, please...I didn't mean for you to see," you whisper, but your eyes drop to the bulge in his pants, betraying your thoughts.
He chuckles low, a rumble in his chest, but it's not cruelâmore like a man who's seen too much and knows how to handle it.Â
"Oh, I see plenty, girl. And that pretty face all flushed? Makes a man wanna help." His hand slides up your thigh, calluses rough but careful, pushing your skirt higher, taking a peek of your pussy. "But first, a little reminder of what happens when you get into trouble. Over my kneeâc'mon now."
He pats his lap sternly, but his eyes soften. "It'll sting, but you'll thank me later, honey."
Trembling, you drape yourself across his lap, ass up, the position exposing you fully as your skirt flips over. He's so, so bigâyour small frame fits perfectly over his thick thigh and you feel his hardness press against your belly, a promise of what's to come.Â
"Good girl, takin' this like you should," he murmurs, praise slipping in before the first smack landsâfirm but measured, the crack echoing softly. It stings, heat blooming, and you yelp, tears pricking your eyes.
"Easy now," he coos, hand rubbing the spot immediately after. "That's for bein' sneaky in your daddy's house. He raised you all goodâdon't need you ruinin' it on toys."
Another spank, a bit harder, on the other cheek, and you squirm, the friction against his cock making him groan quietly.Â
"There you go, your skin's turnin' pink so pretty."
He alternates, five or six measured swats, each followed by a stroke or a soft wordâ"Breathe through it, baby, you're doin' fine" building the burn without overwhelming. Â
Tears well up, spilling hot down your cheeks, and he notices, thumb brushing one away when you turn your head.Â
"Cryin' already, huh?" He chuckles.Â
By the end, your ass throbs, red and sensitive, panties soaked through.Â
He helps you up gently, but his eyes darken as he tugs the fabric aside, exposing your dripping folds, middle finger touching your lips.Â
"So wet from a spankin'. Pussy's all shiny and swollenâtoo sweet for what those boys got, I bet. But I can fix that, teach you how a real man handles it."
His middle finger stays between your folds as he stands, unzipping his jeans, his cock jumping freeâmassive, thick and veined, easily bigger than anything you've ever had.Â
"Back on that bear, c'mon" he orders, guiding you with a hand on your waist. "Gonna show you the difference, but you grind nice and slowâlearn to build it just right."Â
You straddle the toy again, the fur already damp and sticky from before, a yucky reminder as it clings to your slick skin.Â
Lowering yourself, you begin to rub tentatively, the plush dragging against your clit in messy slidesâgross, the way it mats further with your arousal, but thrilling under his watch.
Joel positions himself behind you on the bed, his weight making it dip, hands spanning your hips easily.Â
"That's it, babygirl, move those hips," he praises, voice gravelly as his cockhead nudges your entrance, hot and blunt. But he doesn't thrust yetâteases, sliding along your folds. "Feel how big I am? Your little hole's flutterin' so scared but wantin'. Your daddy would have my hide for this, but you need teachin'âcan't let you settle for less."
Guilt flickers in his tone, but he presses forward, just the tip nudging you, stretching your tight walls with a burn that makes you gasp.
"OhâJoel, it's too much," you whimper, tears starting again, body tensing as you grind on the bear, the fur chafing wetly, adding to the overstimulation.
"Shh, easy, sweetheart," he coos, one hand stroking your back tenderly while the other fists your hair lightly, not yanking hardâjust guiding your head back to arch you. "Breathe, honey. You're so tight, squeezin' like you were made for this fat cock. Just the headâfeel it? Push back slow now."
He inches deeper on your movement, talking you through each bit: "There, darlin', another inch. Your pussy's openin' up so good, even if it hurts a lil'. Cry if you need to; those tears tell me you're feelin' it right."Â
He groans when you sob, his hips twitching, but he keeps it paternal, praising: "Good girl, takin' your lesson."
One hand grips your hips, his cock entering your walls. "Going deeper nowâyeah, juuuust like that."
You rock on the bear, the wetness intensifyingâthe plush soaked, strands sticking to your thighs and folds, a filthy grind that makes squelching sounds with each roll. It's degrading, the childhood toy turned lewd, but his voice anchors you.Â
"Grind harder on that thing," he instructs, meaner now. "but don't you dare to cum yet. Earn it by lettin' me fill you proper."Â
He sinks halfway, the stretch agonizingly full, your small hole straining around his girth.Â
"What would your daddy say? Hm? His girl stretched on her uncle's dick."
Tears stream freely now, mixing pain and pleasure as he bottoms out finally, balls resting against the bear's fur.Â
"All inâfeel me in your belly? Hold still, darlin', adjust to it." He holds, stroking your sides, cooing praises: "Proud of you, takin' every inch like a champ."Â
Then, after a while, thrusts startâslow drags out, then pushes in, talking through them: "Out easy...easy. Now in...deep. That's it."Â
You cry harder, the dual sensations overwhelmingâthe bear's damp fur rubbing your clit in sticky, gross friction, his massive length pounding relentlessly.Â
"That's it...real deep." He whispers.Â
"Joelâplease, it hurts so good," you sob, grinding down.
"Yeah? Tell me more, honey," he urges, hand leaving your hair to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple. "How's that big cock feel compared to your toy? Deeper than any boy could goâgonna make you forget 'em all."Â
His pace builds, hips snapping, but he denies youâslowing when you clench.Â
"Not yet, babygirl. Hold it for me. Cry those pretty tears but don't cum."Â
Minutes drag, drawn out with his mix: harsh commands like 'Take it harderâlearn it, that's it.' and tender coos like 'Almost there, baby, you're perfect.'
Your tears straining your cheeks, your cunt clenching down, as you try to hold the orgasm.
"Milking me so well. Pussy is eager to cum, huh?" He asks, stroking your sides. His thrusts quicken, head pressing right into sweet spot in you.
Finally, as your body quakes, he growls approval.Â
"Alright, cum now, honey. Real slow. Let go around my cock and on that bear." His thumb presses your clit against the plush, rubbing through the mess, while he pushes his cock deep into your cunt. You shatterâscreaming, tears flooding, grinding wildly as waves crash, his thumb amplifying the release.Â
Joel follows, burying even deeper, cock releasing hot spurts and filling you up slowly. "That's it, here it comes. Take it real deep into that small pussy."
He collapses over you briefly then, breath hot on your neck, cock still releasing the smallest amounts of cum into you. He pulls out slightly, watching everything drip down onto the bear.Â
"Your dad's gonna kill me," he mutters, his hand strokes your back almost tenderly. "But you needed that lesson. Don't let me catch you on that toy againâunless I'm here to fix it."
I feel like i could've made him a bit meaner...but idk.
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Fine, I'll Do It Myself
Summary: Tired from waiting around for Joel to come back, you take matters into your own hands.
Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader
Warnings: minors dni, f! reader, large age gap (Joel is 58, reader in twenties), smut, established relationship, masturbation, orgasm control, genitalia pronouns, unprotected piv, breeding, creampie
Word count: 4.4k
A/N: This is my first time ever writing. This was originally written in October but I didn't have the guts to post it until now, hence the fall vibes. English is not my native language, so forgive me for any mistakes!
divider by @strangergraphics
Joel had always been a busy man, even before you and him started dating. Whether it was going out on patrols, helping people around Jackson with whatever chores needed doingâ the list was never-ending. And while you admired that about him, wanting to help people, sometimes you couldn't help but wish he was around more for you.
You had frowned as you watched him put on his worn brown boots, eyes locked on the way he tied the shoelaces with those big, rough hands of his. You were leaning against the doorframe, your arms crossed in front of you.
"Joel, do you really have to go?" You pouted. "I was hoping to spend some time together tonight."
Joel pulled the laces taut under his calloused fingers. He didn't look up, not immediately. His voice was low and gravelly when he spoke, standing back up.
"I know, darlin'. Won't be long. Someone's gotta patrol the west perimeter. People saw some fresh tracks. Ain't nothin' to mess with," he said, lifting his gaze to meet your eyes.
You pouted again, huffing slightly. "⊠I made pie."
It was a last resort to get him to stay, but from the way he looked at you, you could already tell he wouldn't be able to give in.
He adjusted the collar of his jacket, the fabric rustling. "We talked 'bout this, darlin'," he said, his voice softer this time. "Can't risk things. Not out here. Need to make sure everyone's safe."
He reached for his rifle, eyes filled with something close to regret. He wanted nothing more than to stay with you, spend the evening having you cuddle up close to him, eat that pie you'd made. But safety was important.
Before he turned to walk out the door, he looked at you once more. "I'll⊠I'll make it quick tonight. Try to be back 'fore dark. And tomorrow we'll figure somethin' out to make up for today."
You perked up a little at that.
"Promise?" You asked, your pout easing ever so slightly.
A small smile made its way onto his face.
"Promise. I've gotta go now. I love you," he said, leaning down and pressing a gentle, sweet kiss against your lips. It was the kind of kiss that left you wanting more, and deep down you know that was exactly his intent too.
"Save me a slice of that pie of yours," he whispered, pressing one last kiss to the top of your head. Then he turned out the door, pulling it firmly shut behind him.
-----
One hour turned into two. Two then turned into three. And then four.
You tried to keep yourself busy by reading through some of the magazines Joel had brought back for you a few weeks ago during one of his patrols. There was a whole stack of them, mostly about nonsense topics people seemed to care about a lot back in the day.
Seriously, who cares what colors look best during fall?
You laid on your stomach on the bed, the lamp on the bedside table barely bright enough to light up the room, reading. From page to page.
At one point, realizing that it had been a long time since Joel had left, you checked the time.
Four hours. He'd been gone for four hours.
You remembered his words. I'll make it quick tonight. Yeah, right.
Rolling onto your back, you sighed. You stared at the ceiling. You'd been so excited to finally spend some proper time with him. It had been weeks if not months since you'd last been intimate with him.
You knew it wasn't because he didn't want to, because Joel made sure to kiss you and grope at you any chance he gotâ he was simply too busy. And you ended up suffering in the process, because you wanted him so very badly.
Before you knew it, your mind started wandering. You began thinking about his lips first. Then about the way his scrubby beard would tickle against your fingers when you cradled his face with your hands. Then his hair, the salt-and-pepper colors always making your heart race as you ran your fingers through it, and how he'd groan lowly whenever you did.
Slowly your hand began sliding down, crawling down to your stomach, teasing the bare skin where your shirt had lifted upwards slightly. Goosebumps covered your skin, the touch of your own hand enough to make you shiver.
If he was going to stay away for so long, might as well do it yourself, right?
Closing your eyes, you imagined it was him. In your mind it was Joel who was lifting your shirt, past the curves of your soft belly, pushing the fabric up over your tits.
Then he'd let his calloused, big hands roam over your skin in a way that was almost reverent. He'd tease you a little before finally giving you some friction.
His thumbs would glide up to your bra, teasing your nipples that were already hard from the way he'd look at you. He'd brush them slowly, then circling, whispering filthy praise as he teased you.
You let out a soft sigh. He always took his time with you. Always made sure you were trembling with want by the time he was done, reduced to nothing but a shaking mess, begging for his cock to fill you.
Grabbing your breasts more roughly, you moaned. Then a soft whimper followed. You closed your eyes more tightly, one hand remaining on your chest to tease your overly sensitive nipple as the other slowly made its way down to the waistband of your shorts.
You wasted no time before sliding your hand underneath the waistband, fingers running over the wet patch that was forming in your panties. You were so very wet already, and decided not to bother teasing yourself over your panties. No, you needed to feel good.
Sliding your panties down, you snuck your hand beneath, moaning softly as your fingers ran through your wet folds, clit throbbing with need and begging for attention.
What you didn't notice however, was the front door closing shut downstairs. Neither did you hear the bedroom door open with barely a creak, too lost in your own pleasure with your eyes shut and your hand down your shorts, your fingers rubbing circles over your clit.
Joel stood frozen in the doorway. The sight that greeted him made him halt mid-step, his eyes wide and utterly startled.
He saw you spread on the bed, your flushed skin peeking from under your bunched shirt. Next his eyes fell on the quick movement of your hand beneath your shorts, the way your back arched slightly, soft moans escaping your pretty lips.
For a moment he just stood there, watching, jaw clenched as his eyes changed from shocked to something raw.
A low, rough sound came from his throat, close to a growl, eyes glued to every inch of your skin. His gut tightened, blood rushing south.
"Havin' fun, are we?" His voice was low, a mixture of unmistakable arousal with amusement.
Your eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, yanking your hand out of your shorts and sitting up, cheeks bright red with embarrassment. You felt utterly caught.
"Jesus, Joel," you said, swallowing hard. "Don't sneak up on me like that." Then, softer, "Didn't think you'd be back."
Joel let out a softer, low chuckle in response. "'M sorry, darlin'. 'M later than I thought. I called out f'you downstairs, but there wasn't a reply. Makes more sense now, seein' the reason why you weren't respondin'."
He took a step into the room, closer to the bed. "Doin' all that⊠thinkin' about me?" He asked, but he knew the answer. He'd heard you moan his name before he even entered the bedroom.
His words made you flush even more. Joel took another step closer, reaching out his calloused hand and cupped the heated curve of your cheek. He was surprisingly gentle.
He applied the slightest pressure, tilting your face towards him, forcing you to meet the dark heat in his eyes.
"Missed me that much, huh?"
The sudden close proximity of him combined with his scent made you shiver, the heat between your legs doing anything but go away. Earth, pine and a little bit of sweat.
It made you go crazy.
"Wouldn't have had to if you had come back earlier," you muttered, your voice trailing off. Joel's eyes seemed to soften at that.
"I know, darlin'. Weren't here. 'M sorry," he said, one hand remaining on her cheek as the other slowly reached down towards the bunched fabric where it still lay pushed up.
"Show me," he then spoke, making your eyes widen slightly. He gave a small nod towards where your hand had been moments prior. "What you were doin'. Show me how you were touchin' yourself, what I been missin' out on." His eyes darkened, his voice lowering an octave.
"Lay back and get them shorts off. Wanna see it." It wasn't a request, it was an order.
And you obeyed. You sat back against some pillows as you slid down your shorts down your legs, intending to take your panties off too, but he tutted.
"Not yet. Rub yourself over those pretty panties first. Wanna see how soaked they get from me watchin' you get off."
Your cheeks burned. You weren't used to being watched as you pleasured yourself, but seeing the way his eyes darkened at the sight of you made most of the hesitation disappear. You slid your hands between your legs, rubbing your clit over the wet patch that had formed as you touched yourself earlier.
A soft gasp left your lips at the contact, earning a groan from him. He watched every shift in your expression, how your fingers trembled over the fabric, the flush spreading down your neck.
He crawled on the bed with you, deliberately leaving enough space between you both as he settled on the opposite side of the bed.
"Look at me," he ordered, voice low but gentle. "That's it. Look at you, touchin' your pretty little pussy while I watch. D'you like that? Bein' watched?"
His voice was low and gruff. He didn't wait for an answer, one look at your panties was enough to answer it for you.
"Yeah, y'do. Look how wet you are, baby. Soakin' through your panties like that. Makin' a mess, ruinin' them."
His words made your hand move faster, whimpering softly. The friction wasn't enough anymoreâ you needed more.
Joel watched with utter focus how your fingers moved, a muscle ticking in his jaw when another soft moan escaped your lips. His own breathing deepened, the air thick with tension and arousal.
"Slide them aside, darlin'. Your panties. Show me how bad you want it."
You obeyed, fingers curling in the fabric before sliding them aside just enough to expose your soaked pussy to his gaze. The groan it earned you in return made you practically gush.
"Christ, so wet f'me, baby. She's practically droolin'. Beggin' to be filled, ain't she?"
You gasped in response, fingers circling your clit with desperation now. Your hole clenched around nothing, the filthy sight making Joel curse under his breath.
"Fuck, she's hungry. How 'bout you put a finger in there, hmm? Give her somethin' to clench on."
He didn't have to tell you twice. Your finger slid in without resistance, making you whimper in relief and making him groan.
"Greedy 'lil pussy. Suckin' in your finger like that. Bet she'd take my cock in one go, too." You moaned at the thought.
"Joel, please. Need you already," you whined, but he shook his head.
"No, darlin'. Finish what you started 'fore I came in. Seemed t'be doing so well."
He may have said no, but you could tell from the bulge straining against the denim of his jeans that he wanted this just as much as you did. He just wanted to see you unravel first.
"Add another finger f'me. Gotta make sure she's stretched real good. C'mon baby," he urged, cursing in satisfaction as he saw you add another. "Fuck, that's it. Good girl. Suckin' 'em right in. Bet I could shove my cock right alongside and she'd take it perfectly."
His filthy words made you moan, arching your back and desperately curling your fingers, trying to find that spot that would make this even better. And when you found it, your vision turned white.
Squelching wet sounds came from your pussy as you pumped your fingers in and out of your hole desperately, making Joel curse as he finally gave in and started palming his own cock through the front of his jeans.
"Christ, baby. Lookin' so good. She's so loud, just singin' and callin' for me to come fill her right up."
The sheets ruffled beneath you as you squirmed, fingers curling inside yourself, using your thumb to give your clit some much wanted attention.
"Please, Joel. I need youâ," you begged, mouth open with little moans spilling from your lips. But he didn't give in.
"Patient, darlin'. Keep goin' 'till I say. Be good f'me and I'll fuck that pretty pussy 'till you scream later."
A needy whine left your lips at his words, eyes opening to watch as he palmed his cock through his jeans. You knew how big he was underneath, knew he was big enough to make you scream as he pounded into you until the bed creaked.
Your breathing grew heavier, head falling back against the pillows you'd propped up earlier. You were close. So very close. You could practically taste it.
"Joel, I'm gonnaâ fuck, I'm gonna comeâ," you whined, the wet squelches coming from your cunt downright obscene.
"Don't," he groaned. "Not 'till I tell you to, baby. Or I won't fuck you tonight. Be good f'me." His eyes were hard and demanding.
You huffed in frustration, but he already knew you well enough to know you wouldn't listen.
So he reached forward, one large hand snapping out, covering your wrist as he stopped your movement. His other hand remained busy, palming himself hard through the rough denim of his jeans, bulge straining painfully against the fabric.
"What'd I say?" he asked, voice low as he held your wrist tightly. "Y'ain't comin' 'till I say. Understood? Repeat after me. Now."
You let out a pained sob of frustration. "Understood," you muttered eventually, but he wasn't satisfied with just that.
"I said, repeat after me." He leaned in closer, his scent washing over her.
You took a shaky breath, voice sounding ruined when you spoke.
"I-I'm not coming until you say so."
This seemed to finally please Joel.
"Atta girl," he said, voice thick with pride. He let go of your hand as he leaned back once more, focusing on palming himself properly through his jeans. "Keep lookin' at me and keep touchin' yourself. Don't you dare cum."
You wasted no time sliding your fingers back inside, moaning without shame.
Joel's restraint seemed to shatter at this, his own hands frantically undoing his belt and unzipping his fly with a sharp tug. His jeans and boxers were pushed down just enough down his thighs for his cock to jump out, so very thick and flushed and angry. It made your mouth water.
He gave himself a few slow, deliberate strokes, eyes burning into yours and holding your gaze as you fucked yourself without shame.
"Lookin' so damn good for me, darlin', wound up tight f'me. But you hold it, understand? Be a good girl 'n hold it."
You reached out with your free hand, wanting to touch him, feel him, but his hand pushed you back.
"Didn't think so, sweetheart. Only touch yourself. 'N look what you're missin' out on," he spoke, voice strained as he closed his large hand around his cock. He let out a deep groan in response, his head falling back as a thick drop of precum formed at the tip of his length.
"Christ, he's so hard f'you. Just wants to be buried deep in that 'lil pussy of yours. Want that, dont'cha? Stuffed full of my fat cock 'till you go dumb."
His words were absolutely filthy, his eyes focused on where your fingers were still pathetically plunging in and out of your soaked cunt, your slick dripping down your thighs onto the sheets beneath.
You were close again. So very close. Your mouth opened in a relaxed O-shape, whimpers spilling freely from your lips, all shame abandoned. Your free hand found the cups of your bra, impatiently tugging them down until your tits spilled out, wasting no time rolling a pebbled nipple between your digits, urging yourself closer to that sweet pleasure you had been craving for the past half hour.
"Stop."
His command, stern and serious, made your eyes fly open. A pathetic sob escaped your lips, frustrated as he made you deny yourself for the second time.
"Joel, please, it's not fair," you whimpered, heavily breathing as you forced your fingers to still inside yourself. Your entire body screamed for release, and he took nothing but satisfaction from the fact he was the one denying you.
He only chuckled in response, his large hand stroking himself slowly now. With each stroke upwards his foreskin pulled over the fat mushroom head of his cock, a thick bead of precum glistening from the slit.
"Not fair? Baby, I don't care. You were pleasurin' yourself up here without me. You cum when I tell y'to. You cum when I cum."
You could've cried in frustration, but a part of you was enjoying this way too much to put up a proper fight. Waiting for that edge to ebb away, you slowly returned to touching yourself.
Joel wasn't far from losing his patience either. His cock was an angry red, the veins standing out as his big, calloused hand rubbed his shaft up and down, grunts and deep moans spilling from his lips.
"Doin' so damn good for me," he groaned, fucking himself into his fist. "Holdin' back for me. Takin' it."
His belt made metallic clinging sounds where it hung open down his thighs from the sheer force he was stroking himself with. His jaw was clenched tight, looking like it'd break if he clenched it any harder. He used his thumb to swipe down each drop of precum that formed at the slit, his balls hanging heavy beneath him.
"Christ, darlin'. Lookin' so damn good fingering your pussy like that. She's so fuckin' loud, ain't she? Think we should give her what she wants 'n fill her up?" he grunted, moving forward to position himself between your open legs.
"Gonna fuck that edge right outta you," he groaned, guiding his cock down to rub the fat head over your clit, moving your own hands out of the way.
You could only nod desperately in response, but he wanted more than just a nod.
"Gotta say it. Not gonna fuck your little sloppy hole unless y'tell me to."
You huffed in frustration. "Please, Joel. Want you so bad. Need you to fuck me. Please."
Satisfied, he smirked. "That's more like it," he praised, the heavy tip nudging against your slick entrance, groaning as he felt the heat radiating from your core. Slowly he pressed forward, a groan rumbling from his chest as your tight heat began to envelop him.
His thighs trembled as he sheathed himself fully inside, inch by inch.
"Christ, baby, you're killin' me," he shuddered, his dark eyes locked on yours, watching every single sensation cross your face. He leaned down, capturing your lips as one hand cradled your face.
"Wrapped tight around me like a fist. Feel that? So fuckin' deep inside you. That's what you needed, ain't it?"
Your nails dug into his back, legs locking behind him to urge him even deeper inside you, whining when he did.
"Please move," you begged. "Please. I need it so bad."
He stayed deep, unmoving for several seconds, his own breath warm and harsh against your temple as he savored the clenching, wet heat. He groaned at your begging.
"How could I resist when my girl is beggin' all pretty like that?" he asked, burying his face in your neck. Both his hands held onto your hips, keeping you in place as he slid his cock all the way back out to the tip, sliding back in in one, slow go. Deep.
It wasn't frantic. It was utterly controlled, each withdrawal of his cock making you feel so empty before he filled you again with a solid thrust so deep it made you see stars.
Your back arched, choked gasps filling the room as he fucked you slow and deep.
"Feels so fuckin' good, babygirl." he groaned, his breath hot against your ear. "Clenchin' me so tight like she never wants to let go of me."
He knew you were the loudest when he fucked you like this, one hand pinning your hips down as the other splayed low on your belly when they lifted desperately to meet his thrusts.
You could only whine, beg, clinging to him in the hope that he would go faster, but he didn't give in. He would make you cum exactly how and when he wanted.
His thrusts turned harder, his heavy balls slapping against your ass each time he roughly slammed back in, grunting in your ear. It wasn't only you that was tremblingâ so was he, from both the sensation and from holding himself back from rutting into you.
"Baby, fuckâŠ" he groaned. "Feels so fuckin' tight f'me. Such a good girl, takin' my cock like that. He's fillin' you good, ain't he? Feel how deep I've got you? Givin' your hungry 'lil cunt what it wants."
He pressed kisses on your neck, teeth grazing against the sensitive skin beneath your ear as he bit down and sucked, marking you as his.
Your toes curled as he slammed home inside you over and over, the bed creaking dangerously beneath you both. The pace was still too slow, making you whine in frustration. You needed more.
"Joel, please, faster," you begged, undoubtedly leaving behind marks as your nails dug into his back.
"Orderin' me around now, ain't ya?" he chuckled amused into your neck, pressing one last kiss to your skin before he grabbed your legs. He folded them over his shoulders, practically bending you in half.
His hips snapped forward roughly, and instead of slowly dragging back out like before, his pace was now breathtakingly fast.
"Fuck!" you nearly keened in response, eyes wide as he leaned over you, keeping your legs over his shoulders as he slammed himself in and out of you.
"Yeah? Like that better? Bendin' you in half and fuckin' you rough?" he groaned. The sound of wet skin slapping filled the room, a combination of your wet slick and his heavy balls slapping against your ass.
He didn't wait for a response. He grunted, deep and low, his jaw clenched as he focused on getting you close.
"Gonna fuckin' cum, baby. Need you there with me. Wanna feel you milk my cock 'n drain me. Y'want that? Me breedin' this little cunt raw?"
You could only respond with a cry. He took that as a yes.
"Thought so. C'mon baby. Know you're almost there. Can feel it, the way she's clenchin' around me."
Sweat pooled on his forehead, his salt-and-pepper hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes were dark as he looked down at you, fucking you mercilessly.
He shifted, leaning forward and bending you in half even more, lifting you up slightly to drive himself impossibly deep, the thick crown of his cock kissing your cervix and hitting spots you never even knew existed.
His words in combination with how good he fucked you was all you needed to be pushed over the edge.
"Joel, gonna cum, gonna cum so hard, Joelâ!"
You came harder than you ever had before, your back arching violently off the mattress, a sharp cry of his name tearing from your throat. Your fingers dug so hard into his back your nails were sure to leave marks, your entire body shaking like a leaf in the wind, pussy milking him and seeking out every single drop of his seed.
Your walls clamped down on him with breathtaking force. Seeing you lose yourself like that was all Joel needed, thrusting in and out two more times before holding himself deep, groaning loudly followed by a harsh, low cry. His cock twitched, spurt after spurt of hot cum filling you up, giving your pussy exactly what it so desperately craved.
"Yes baby, that's it, fuck, take it, every single fuckin' drop." He shuddered, leaning back over you as he buried his head in your neck, riding out his orgasm by thrusting in and out a few more times, fucking his seed deeper.
After the last drop spilled into you he groaned, softer this time. "Christ, babygirl."
He leaned up, eyes finding yours. He pressed his lips onto yours, kissing you gently as he helped your legs down his shoulders.
"You okay? Didn't hurt you none, did I?" he asked, concerned now that the heat of the moment was over.
You shook your head. "I'm okay," you muttered, your entire body going limp from the force of the orgasm he'd fucked out of you.
He looked down at you with soft eyes, slowly sliding himself out of your used hole. You both winced slightly, his release dripping out.
"Can't have that," he muttered, using his thick fingers to press his seed back inside. "Gotta make sure it takes, ain't that right?" he asked, making your cheeks flush.
He tucked himself back into his jeans, belt clinging as he fastened it. Leaning over, he kissed you once again, helping you back in your clothes as if you were something fragile. Something breakable.
"'M sorry for bein' late earlier," he said, sliding your shorts back over your hips. His thumb traced circles on your soft belly right above your waistband.
"Y'still angry at me?"
You smiled up at him, leaning up to kiss him slowly, teeth gently pulling at his lips.
"Not if you fuck me from behind next," you whispered against his lips, your mischievous smile making him chuckle in disbelief.
"Will I be forgiven then?" he groaned, nuzzling into your neck.
You hummed, and within seconds his hands were on your waist, flipping you over effortlessly, his calloused hands already dragging your shorts back down.
"I'd better get to work then, darlin'."
Sugar Cookies â ËïœĄâàšà§Ë
Warnings!: Food play, Smut, MDNI, a bit praise kink, nicknames ( angel,baby, sweet girl) , daddy kink, age gap (50s and 20s) (not implied directly) eating out, breast play, slight domestic, slight pussy pronouns, kitchen counter smut,no cordyceps universe, already established relationship (not implied directly)
W.C: 1.5k words!
Summary: The day felt too long, so you figured youâd bake some sugar cookies!
Note: As promised heres an attempt to write food play fic! I had so much fun making this tehe, if anyone has any suggestions or requests, iâll be
àŹ(à© á )ââïŸ.*ïœ„ïœĄïŸ
àŹ(*. .)
ïżŒ Joel always loved whenever you cooked or cleaned for him, taking care of him and doting him, truly one of the things he loved about you and he always reciprocated back. And every so often you impulsively wanted to bake , the memories coming back, back to the days when you were a little girl begging your parents to let you help with any baking. Nowadays you baked pies, brownies, cakes or even sugar cookies. Â
Joel was out at work , and there were just some days you felt he was just gone for too long,  today was one of them. So you got to baking, you searched through the cabinets to spot if youâre missing anything that limits you from baking anything . You were missing cocoa , so you couldnât make brownies, and you didnât have any milk, so you thought of making sugar cookies, one of your favourite sugary sweets.Â
 You progressively made your cookies, firstly making the batter, skillfully adding all the ingredients, expertly doing it all not even needing the recipe from how many times you made these cookies. You then placed the dough in the fridge to cool it, and after about an hour you finally put the individually balled up batter on the cooking tray and then in the oven.Â
 As the cookies were baking, you started to work on the frosting, you added all the ingredients and you added a drop of red food colouring, the already white coloured frosting mixing with the small drop of red making the softest pink colour, which you always think adds a nice touch to the delicious sweet. And as you mix in the food colouring you hear the front door open, and you excitedly turn around from the counter, already knowing who it is. Â
âHey, Angel,â he greets and heads to the kitchen, and walks towards you. Â
âHi..â you smile and rush to hug him and see him.Â
His hands slid down to your waist holding you tightly, and then he rests his head on top of your own head, inhaling your sweet scent.Â
 âYou been baking, baby?â he breaks his hold , and walks over to the counters and hovers above the counter where you were making the frosting at.Â
 âYeah..got bored..â you say and chuckle and observe him as he grabs a bit of frosting with his finger and licks it , the action sending sparks up your spine causing you to feel a slight wet feeling between your thighs , making you blush a bit as he nods approvingly about the frosting.Â
âBest damn baker in the whole town, arenât you, angel,?â  he chuckles and turns towards you , his eyebrow arching , puzzled as to why you froze in place.Â
You stand still right there at the kitchen door, the air between you two feeling thick .You canât help but let your mind start to picture suggestive thoughts thinking of what you want Joel to do to you.Â
âWhatâs wrong, baby..?â he discloses lowly and plants his hands around your waist again as he leans his lower torso or back on the counter Â
âMmmm..â you mumble and he slowly starts to comprehend what you truly meant and want,Â
âDaddy licked the frosting you made and that got you wet, baby?â He states and scoffs.Â
âSweet girl..â he asserts lowly and chuckles, he holds your chin and tugs your face closer and kisses you. You reciprocate and shift closer to him and let him kiss you earnestly. He starts peppering your jawline with kisses till your neck leaving small bruises along his path , marking his territory as he does every night.Â
âGuess since daddy trying your frosting got you all wet, means i should eat more, huh?â He mumbles close to your ear,Â
âWha-?â you say unsure of what was going to happen, and unexpectedly Joel turns both of you around, your back now facing the counter, and he lifts you up and positions you on top of the counter and sets his lower torso between your legs , next to the bowl of frosting.Â
He strips you out of your top ,no room for discussion, and he takes a moment to stare at your hardened nipples. His chest rising and falling faster with every time his gaze falls on your chest, he pauses for a moment, the idea in his mind still being processing, and in a beat, grabs a dollop of frosting with his finger from the bowl placed next to you.Â
 You watch him with a mix of curiosity and anticipation, he gently smears the frosting on your tits applying it neatly, you let out a small gasp and canât stop gaping at him as the cooling sensation hits you causing you to quiver, making the wetness between your thighs rapidly growing.Â
âNow, ainât this the sweetest dessert for daddy?â He says with a small chuckle, licking clean the frosting from his finger, debating whether to just bury his face in your frosting-covered nipples or to roughly squeeze them until you come for him or to take his time to enjoy you, and drag on your release wanting to tease you, ultimately choosing that option. He lowers himself, and he swirls his tongue on your left nipples making you loudly gasp and moan. He licks off the frosting from your breast in a slow manner, taking his time to taste the frosting and sucking your nipple. Â
âDaddyyâ you whimper, and press your legs together ,the wet spot on your underwear slowly increasing. Joel snickers from all your small responses and moves on to your right nipple, both nipples already hardened from the pleasure.Â
As you continuously moan and whimper  ,Joel finishes off licking all the frosting and canât help but look up at you and grin at you.  âšÂ Â
âGonna let daddy have some more, baby?â He asks you lowly, not being able to deny him in the slightest, knowing you need this as badly as he does and nod affirmatively.Â
âMy sweet girl, always wanting to please me, huh?â He asserts and chuckles. He gently lifts your hips up, to help you out of your shorts youâve been wearing letting it drop on to the floor, he then yanks off your wet underwear letting it all drop on the floor. Joel jerks open your legs , your bare pussy exposed to him, your juices glistening dripping all down. Joel hungrily stares at your exposed cunt,and letting the corners of his mouth jolt into a smile . And in no time he repeats his previous action with the frosting, this time on your pussy. Â
Joel overspreads your pussy with the use of his fingers again, this time not with just a dab but with more than a spoonful of frosting. Covering your cunt fully, making it fully hidden. The cooling sensation hitting you even harder this time, making your pussy throb and overflow with juices, mixing in with the frosting. Â
âFucckk, look at her, sweet girl..â He watches in awe and licks clean his fingers from the frosting,  âšâSo embarrassing...â you mutter feeling vulnerableÂ
âSânot embarrassing, angel..â he grumbles, he lets his fingers settle on your chin, holding your face in place, he leans his face closer to yours , âšâAinât ever seen a prettier thing than you, or her.â he murmurs for only you to hear.Â
He then lowers himself and crouches in front of you, just in front of your concealed pussy between your trembling open thighs, he yanks you forward to the edge of the counter and plants his hands on each of your leg to keep them open , he then starts slowly licking your cunt, simultaneously devouring the frosting.Â
âSâDelicious, angel,â he mumbles, licking your folds the mixture of the sweet frosting mixing with your cunts juices,. He takes his time sucking and teasing your clit and licking clean your sweet pussy, you let out various moans and almost shouting, âFucckâ, âDaddyyyâ letting them slip out your mouth, closing your eyes from all the pleasure.Â
You continue letting out your sweet moans and whimpers as Joel takes his sweet time eating you out ,your heartbeat rapidly increasing. He thrusts his tongue into you, curling and shoving in and out your firm hole. âšâI cant-: You whimper and tremble, âšâI canât hold itâ You groanÂ
âLet go for me, baby.â he commands as he ultimately pulls away from you and sucks on your clit instead, making you freeze in place , coming hard, forcing you to loudly moan  and gasp, your pussy pulsing on his tongue , and savouring every drop of your slick, making him groan against your cunt. He looks up at you and the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. âšâTaste so good, baby..â He discloses and snickers as he gazes into you .As your chest rises and fall even faster now, continuing to maintain eye contact with him.Â
And just as soon as he straightens himself and settle his lower torso between your legs again to take care of you after your release , the timer for the cookies rings. Joel snorts and smiles,Â
âJust in time, huh?âÂ
Common Ground
summary: Joel hates his new apprentice, but he sure likes the manâs girlfriend.
warnings: 18+ MDNI!! no outbreak, Joel pov, heâs lonely and grumpy (and horny), Joel gets what Joel wants, age gap (20s, 50s), pwp, pinv, fingering, oral (m receiving), ass play, spit, cum eating, praise, dirty talk, explicit language
a/n: thereâs nothing to say, itâs just filth, oops
wc: 5k
âDonât even think about it, man,â Tommy warns as he drops his toolbox into the bed of Joel's truck.
Joel squints over at his brother, the sun bright in his eyes. âThink about what?âÂ
âDonât fuck her, Joel.â
"What the hell ya talking âbout?â he smirks, fully aware of Tommy's meaning.
âSaw the way you were looking at her just now. We donât need any trouble, Joel. He's a good worker.â
âHeâs a waste of space, thatâs what he is," Joel bites. He never wanted to hire an apprentice; he didn't believe they needed one. But when Tommy brought this new guy, Nate, to work a few months ago, Joel's been taking every opportunity he gets to make the younger man's life hell in the hope heâll quit. Still, Joel has to admit, having the apprentice around isnât all bad, because every day at 12:30pm sharp, the younger man's girlfriend calls with lunch, and Joel has been finding himself transfixed by her.Â
âYou canât just not like him Joel, you have no reason not to.â
âI do.â
âReally? Give me one.â
âHis name. Typical asshole name.â
Tommy laughs. âDude, come on, he might be young, but he knows his stuff, he could be a real help for us in expanding.â
âWe donât need him. We've been doing fine just us for all these years. Besides, the kid might know how to build, but he's the most self-absorbed person I've ever met. Spends more time checking on his fuckinâ hair.â Joel huffs, turning to lean back against the truck. âYou heard the way he talks about her too? She could do so much better.â
âI think you're just hearing what you want to hear âcause you wanna get in her pants.â Tommy smirks.
âSo what if I do? You canât stop me.â Joel responds with a smug grin like he's ready to take on the challenge. One thing about Joel: if someone tells him not to do something, he's almost always going to find a way to do it.
âSheâs like half your age.â
âTrust me, no one has ever complained about that before.â
Tommy scoffs. "You're disgusting.â
âSo you settled down; now the rest of us aren't allowed to have any fun?â
âNot saying that, but sheâs his girlfriend, please, brother, just keep clear.â
âFine, relax. Wonât go near her.â
âPromise me.â
Joel holds a hand up in the air, an irritating grin spread across his face. âI promise, Tommy."
âGod, you're so fuckinâ annoying.â Tommy slams the door of the trunk and goes around the other side to climb in. Joelâs never been one to break a promise, but when it comes to her, he thinks she might be the one who finally makes him crack.
âYou wanna come for a drink?â
âNah, the wifeâs got dinner waiting.â
âRight.â Joel rolls his eyes. Heâd never admit it, but heâs jealous of his brother. Tommy's settled down with another kid on the way. Joel might have Sarah, but sheâs grown now, always out with her own friends enjoying herself, and heâs just left alone at home with nothing but his thoughts.
So, true to his usual post-work routine, he walks the few blocks to the dingy bar he likes. Slouching onto the stool as he orders a whiskey, he scans the room to see who's in tonight. Heâs tired, heâs horny, and if heâs completely honest with himself, heâs really fucking lonely. So when his eyes catch on that familiar woman, alone in the booth right at the back of the room, he can't help himself.Â
"Ohh, now the universe is just playing with me," he mutters under his breath as he takes his glass and walks through the darkened bar over towards her. âDrinking alone?â
"Sadly," she smiles, so innocently.Â
âNo Nate?"
âNot tonight.âÂ
He nods with a satisfied hum, trying his best not to let his eyes slip down to her cleavage.
âMind if I sit?"Â
âNot at all.â
He slides in opposite her, leaning back, thighs wide apart beneath the table as he rests his arm on the back of the seat. âSo, weâve never really spoken.â
She nods. âYou donât strike me as much of a talker.âÂ
Her eyes are mesmerizing; heâs never been close enough before to see them like this, and in the soft neon light, he finds himself getting lost in how they glisten. When she brings her glass up to take a sip, his eyes lock onto her mouth, watching as her tongue darts out to wet her lips, making his dick twitching at the sight. He canât help but think what it would be like to kiss her, what she would taste like, and what itâd be like to shove his cock between those lips and make her choke on it.
She shifts in her seat, a delicate strand of hair falling gently down her neck, leading his eyes right to her chest, exactly where he was trying not to look.
âLike what you see?â she asks quietly so no one but him can hear. His eyes flick back up to hers, so sheâs really not as innocent as he first thought.
His head tilts to the side slightly, weighing up his response. âMmmh, but Iâd like to see more.â
Her cheeks blush instantly, and she tries to hide it, looking away towards the loud crowd at the bar. âNot sure Nate would approve of that.â
"Well, that asshole shouldnât have let you come here alone then.â
âYou donât like him?â
He doesnât answer.
She rests her elbow on the table, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass. âHe doesnât know Iâm here. Didnât want him to tell him.â
âWhy not?â
She looks down, unable to meet his gaze as she admits the truth. âBecause I didnât want him to know that I came here looking for you.â
âLooking for me, huh?â Thereâs an innocence to her, but he can tell sheâs got that devilish side deep within her core that aches to be let out. He knows sheâs looking for him to show her exactly how to cut herself loose.
âYou think I bring food over every day just to please Nate like some good little housewife?âÂ
Her response amuses him, because thatâs exactly what Nate wants her to be. âSo why do you do it?â
âTo see how long itâll take for you to notice me.âÂ
âWell darlin', youâre in luck because I notice you, alright." He makes no attempt to hide the smugness radiating from him now. Sheâs fucking desperate for him, and she's not hiding it very well. âNotice how your flimsy little dresses have gotten steadily shorter over the weeks, slowly revealing even more of your skin that just aches to be traced by my touch. Notice how you sway your hips that little bit more only when you walk by me, like youâre trying to tease, and shit, itâs workingâŠâ
Her lips part, her mouth turning dry as she takes in every word.
ââŠOr how you do all that, yet never meet my eyes. You look away quickly whenever I glance over, pretending to be all innocent, but you ainât, are ya?â
Her cheeks turn more red because she knows sheâs been caught out. He sits forward. âYâknow, Iâm under strict orders not to fuck you.â
She almost spits the last sip of her drink out as his words register. Her eyes widen, and she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Clearing her throat, she takes a breath. âBy who?"
âMy brother.â
âYou always follow your brother's rules?âÂ
"No," he scoffs. âDonât answer to anybody."Â
âSo youâd break the rules?â
He swallows and looks back over his shoulder to observe the other people minding their own business in the bar. When he turns back, sheâs practically squirming as she awaits his reply, the intrigue clear in her eyes.Â
âDepends if I think it was worth it.â
âYou donât think Iâm worth it?â
He downs the remaining liquid in his drink and takes his time to look her up and down. âAre you?âÂ
She gives him that shy smile again. âHow about we find out?âÂ
He taps a finger on the table, making her wait as he decides his next move. "Not tonight.â
"Oh." She sits back in her seat, and heâs sure he sees her trying to hide the disappointment. He wants to tease her, to make her wait so that when he finally does fuck her, sheâs begging him for it.Â
âGo home to your boyfriend.â
âWhy?â
âBecause I want him to find you fuckinâ soaked all 'cause of me.â
She bites her lip, her eyes wide, dark and hungry as the flush creeps up her neck.
âLet him fuck you. Let him try his best to fill ya whilst you wish like hell it was my cock instead.â
She starts absentmindedly twirling that goddamn strand of hair around her finger, and he canât take it anymore. Heâs got the upper hand right now, he has to keep it that way.
So he stands, adjusting his now incredibly tight crotch right in front of her eyes, and leaves her alone in the booth. That night, as the alcohol still buzzes through his system, he lies half naked in his bed, stroking himself as he thinks about her, releasing his load onto his stomach from the thought of all the ways he plans to take this woman.Â
âââ
The following day, he waits for her to call by with lunch like she always does, but she doesnât show, and she doesnât come the day after or the one after that. He guesses it was the alcohol, the heat of the moment, or maybe she woke up the following morning and regretted the conversation. Still, he looks dead into the eyes of Nate every day with the secret knowledge that his girlfriend really wants the master, not the apprentice.Â
By the time Friday night rolls around, heâs irritable. Nate went home hours ago, and Tommy left the site just before the sun finally set. But they had a deadline for tonight, so Joel offered to stick around and work until it was done, realizing if he went home, heâd only find himself grumpy and alone there too.Â
As the stifling Texas heat still lingers despite the night sky and the ache in his back starts to pull, he secures the house and turns out the lights. Making his way from the backyard towards his truck, he sees her, walking down the driveway towards him.
"What ya doing 'ere? Boyfriend left ages ago.â He grunts, pretending like the sight of her doesnât make him happy.
âI know; heâs at home eating junk food on the sofa.â
Sheâs wearing a short summery dress that stops an inch above her knees, the V-neck revealing too much of her skin. He notices the few beads of her sweat that glisten between her breasts from the humidity, and it makes him want nothing more than to push her up against his truck and taste it.
âWhere does he think you are?â
âA friend's house." She steps forward slowly, closer to him. The familiar smell of her perfume reaches him now, the subtle yet divine scent that he remembers so well consuming his mind. âHe told me you were staying late, so I came to see if you needed anything.â
âI donât. Just heading out.â he brushes past her, his finger tracing the back of her hand as he does so. He drops his tools into the back of his truck before turning back to her, exhaling heavily. âYou shouldnât be turning up to random houses after dark like this, yâknow.âÂ
âWhy not?âÂ
âItâs not safe.â He reaches a finger to her chin, lifting her eyes to look directly into his. âAnything could happen."
âLike what?â Her voice is barely a whisper.Â
He shakes his head. "Thought Iâd scared you off, or maybe youâd changed your mind.â
âI just wanted to be careful.âÂ
âIs this being careful?â His eyes flick down her body, inches from him. âDid you do as I said? Did you think about me when he was inside you?â
She nods.Â
âand only me?âÂ
She nods again.Â
âGood girl.â He feels the blood is rushing south, but he can't do this; Tommy would kill him. âBut you should really go."
âWhy?â
âBecause in a second Iâm going to lose my fuckinâ mind and have my way with ya. You're better than this; Iâll only get ya into trouble.â
âWhat if I want trouble?â
He chuckles. âYou don't. Go home.â
âI donât want to.â
âOh sweetheart, I'm really trying here." He drags a hand through his hair. He knows it's useless; his dick is in control now, but at least he can tell Tommy that he really, really tried not to, right?
âI want you.â She whispers.
"Why? You just need an older man to take care of ya? Is that it? Need someone who can give you exactly what you need, unlike that pathetic excuse of a boyfriend.â
She doesnât respond, just stares into his eyes endlessly, like sheâs starving to be taken care of. God, sheâs beautiful. Tommy's pleas from a few days ago sound like a million miles away right now. He inches closer, moving his head down so that his lips hover over hers; the anticipation clouds his thoughts, and all he can think about is what it would be like to be buried between her legs. With a dirty grin, he tries to stop the inevitable one last time. âLast chance, Miss.â
âKiss me.âÂ
Finally, with her permission, he pushes his tongue into her mouth; her desperate hums make his dick throb against the constraints of his jeans. He guides her back until sheâs trapped between his body and the truck, breaking from her lips to lick down her neck, following the V of her dress as she sighs into him. He moves further south, the knot in his back merely a distant thought as he buries his head in the low of her tummy, breathing in her scent. âFuck, you smell so good.âÂ
His hand snakes up her thigh, inching the fabric of her dress up to gain access between her legs. Brushing his fingers over her panties, he feels her desire already seeping through, the discovery making him groan into the night air. He teases her, rubbing her over the wet fabric as her head falls back against his truck.
Hooking a finger into the waistband, he peels the damp lace down her legs before bringing it to his nose, inhaling deeply, closing his eyes as he takes in the scent of her desire. âFuuuuckk.â She watches him intently then as he stuffs her panties into his back pocket. âIâm keeping these.âÂ
As he stands up to tower above her, his fingers find her soaked folds again, dipping into her arousal as his thumb presses against her sensitive clit and her hips pushes forward into him. âMaybe you were right,â she breathes, âWe shouldn't." Her protest is weak.
âSo stop me.â He teases, knowing she wonât. âGo on, stop me, darlin'."Â She ignores him, whimpering louder as his fingers explore her entrance. âCanât, can ya? It's written all over your face; you're fuckinâ desperate for me to give you what he canât.â
Her mouth falls open as he slips a finger into her tight heat. The whimper that escapes her goes straight to his crotch. Despite the quiet secluded street, the low light, and the shelter of his truck, he feels her tense against him when they both hear a noise in the distance. âJoel, someoneâs coming.âÂ
âNah uh, eyes on me, darlinâ.â His thumb flicks against her bundle of nerves faster as his free hand comes up to cover her mouth. He continues his movements, working her to her orgasm as the person on the opposite side of the street remains completely unaware of the scandal taking place beside this truck.
Her body shudders violently before it collapses weakly against him. He looks down, removing his hand from between her legs, his fingers glistening with her juices. âShit.â He opens the passenger door and nods. âGet in the truck."Â
He doesnât know where to take her. Sarah will be home, and they obviously canât go back to her place. He considers just doing it in the truck, but he needs more space to have her in the way he craves most. But heâs so fucking turned on right now, he just needs to get her to goddamn bed soon. So he speeds towards the edge of town where he knows of a gross little motel. Itâs not ideal, certainly not romantic, but itâll do the job.Â
He walks into the reception as she follows close behind, keeping her head down. Like the world is against him right now, he finds the desk empty.
After what feels like an eternity of calling out for assistance, a small old lady appears from the back room and shuffles towards the desk, her eyes flicking between the two of them.
âFinally.â He mutters under his breath, but he knows the older woman heard him by the glare she offers up. âNeed a room.â
The lady pauses, her eyebrows raising expectantly as she looks at Joel.Â
âPlease.â He adds.
âFor both of ya?â
He grunts.
âWe donât do any of that funny business âere yâknow.â She warns.
Joel scoffs. âExcuse me?â
âThis is a respectable establishment, sir.â
He looks around, silently disagreeing with her. âHmm. If you say so.â
She clears her throat, a stern expression daring him to say more.
He smiles falsely. âLook, maâam, itâs not like that. We just need a room⊠please.â
The old lady rolls her eyes, sitting down at the computer to aimlessly scan the screen to see whatâs available. Joel taps a finger on the desk impatiently, his leg bouncing, his cock aching to be released from these tight fucking jeans, if only this woman would hurry the hell up.
âGot one?â He bites.Â
âI do.â She sighs.
âGreat. Weâll take it.âÂ
The ladyâs eyes flick up, looking past him to her behind him. âNothinâ like good old-fashioned manners, is there?" She chuckles, and her sarcasm pisses him off.Â
âWhatâs that sâpposed to mean?â His eyes narrow.
The old lady ignores him, slowly plodding through to the back room in search of the key. He swears this lady is taking her sweet time on purpose just to fuck with him.
When she comes back, she slaps the keys onto the surface as he settles up. Heâs desperate to make a comment about the ridiculous price, but considering his predicament down below, he pays it, and without another word, exits in search of the room.
It's small and dated, and thereâs a fusty smell of cigarettes and sex, but what did he expect? He's here for the same thing. The second theyâre inside, he pushes her back against the door, his mouth on her skin once again as she reaches down to palm him through his trousers, making his eyes roll to the back of his head.
"Sure âbout this?â He asks.
âYeah.âÂ
He picks her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he takes her over and drops her body gently down onto the bed. He stands there at the edge of the mattress looking down at the flawless woman before him.Â
âTake it off.â He nods to her dress. âLet me see whatâs mine.â
He watches her remove the material, eyes roaming all over her. Sheâs nervous, but she doesnât need to be, sheâs so effortlessly beautiful.
He removes his flannel, then his t-shirt, revealing his broad chest to her. He notices how her eyes rake down his entire form before focusing on his happy trail that leads her eyes to his belt buckle.Â
âLike the view?â he smirks. She doesnât speak, just bites her lip as her eyes flick back up to his. "Course you fuckinâ do. Go on then, unbuckle 'em." He nods towards where her eyes canât stop looking. She hesitates for a second, before leaning up to slowly push his jeans and boxers down to finally release him.
The way her breath hitches as his cock springs free in front of her satisfies him. Her lips part as she observes him in all his glory. Heâs not arrogant but heâs self-aware, and he knows heâs big. Heâs thick and girthy, and the bob of her throat tells him sheâs worried if heâll even fit.
"Oh, heâs gonna fill you good, donât you worry about that, sweetheart." He pushes her thighs apart, revealing her pussy to him. âJesus Christ, look at ya, still fucking drippinâ. Go on, touch yourself.â
âJoel.â
âDo it.â
She reaches between her legs, the rise and fall of her chest increasing as she pleasures herself. âYeahhh thatâs it, you look fuckinâ good, baby.â He takes his erection in hand, stroking slowly as he watches her.
After a few minutes, she sits up, her mouth so close to his dick as her eyes flick up to meet his, waiting for further instructions. âOpen up.âÂ
She does as he says, her soft, warm mouth taking him in as he struggles to suppress a groan. He doesnât push yet; he lets her guide her own movements as she gets used to the size of him.
When she releases him with a pop, her hand coming up to stroke him, she gets a little brave. âWhat do you think your brother would say about this?âÂ
âPlease, donât talk about my brother right now.â He sighs, his head falling back as she licks up the underside of his dick, all the way from his balls to the tip.
When she takes him back in her mouth again, she guides his hand to the back of her head, letting him know sheâs ready for more. He thrusts his hips forward, his cock sliding further until it hits the back of her throat. He starts slow, testing her limits, but soon speeds up when he struggles to hold back. Her nails scratch sharply up his tummy, and she starts to gag around him. It's obscene and vulgar, and he canât get enough.Â
He senses she needs a second so he pulls out, letting her catch her breath, a string of her spit still connecting his cock to her lips. âFuck thatâs hot.â He sighs. âYou good?â
She nods. He taps the head against her bottom lip a few times before pushing all the way back down her throat until her nose presses into the hairs at the base. âFuuuckkk. Wish you could see yourself right now, such a good girl taking it like this.â
Like any older man, he wishes he could last as long as he did when he was younger, but those days are long gone, and if he doesnât pull out right this second, itâll all be over too soon.Â
âCondom?â She asks. He nods, reaching down to his jeans on the floor and taking one from his pocket. She lies back on the bed, legs parted as she waits for him.
He hovers above her, tracing a hand down over her body, her hips lifting off the bed as his fingers tickle her skin, goosebumps appearing on every inch. âYou're so beautiful, do you know that?â The look on her face tells him she doesnât believe it.
âJoelâŠâ
He spits into his hand, smearing it over his cock. Then he lines himself up with her drenched entrance, waiting as she wriggles desperately underneath him.
"This what you want?â He grins.
She nods, whimpering as she lifts her head to see him running his tip through her folds.Â
âSay it."
âI want you, Joel. Need you inside me.â
âWhat else?â
Her head falls back down against the sheets, a frustrated moan escaping her lips, making him almost lose his composure as he pushes the head in further.Â
âPleaseâŠâ
Finally, he thrusts deep inside her. Mutual groans coming from deep within their bodies as they get lost in the feel of finally being connected. His head falls down into the curve of her neck, nibbling at the skin softly as he delights in the feeling of her tight, warm heat. She fits like a glove around him; so perfect, so goddamn addictive.Â
âJesus, youâre big.â She sighs, her back arching as he fills her. âIt feels so good.âÂ
âYeah? You like that?â
As he starts moving inside her, her legs come up to wrap around his waist, her heels digging into him to push him deeper. âHe doesn't fill you like this, does he? Shit, he doesn't know how to work your body so itâs trembling like it is right now; only I can do that.âÂ
Their shared pants fill the room, and he reaches down between their bodies to circle her clit. Her moans please him and let him know she's already close. âIf only he knew where you were right now. If only he knew my cock was so deep inside of this tight pussy.â
âFuck, Joel. Please, don't stop.â She reaches up to pull his body down into hers, her nails scratching against his back, leaving trails of red as he feels her walls flutter around his dick. He feels her body tensing against the bed as he rides her through another high. Giving her little time to recover, she gasps as he pulls out. âTurn over.âÂ
She lies on her stomach before him; with his knee, he spreads her legs again and enters her from behind. He parts her ass cheeks and spits on her asshole, his thumb dipping down to smear it over the puckered rim. Slowly he teases her there, and as his thrusts speed up, he starts to push his thumb inside her tight hole as she grips the sheets at the intense sting. With his free hand, he slaps her ass making her yelp into the mattress.
He's in pure heaven. The sound of his hips slapping against her skin and the wet sounds of their shared desires mixing, paired with the sight of her holes filled up with him like this all while her boyfriend sits at home none the wiser, does something to him.
He leans down, kissing the top of her back. âGimme another, sweetheart; I need to feel you come round this cock once more.â
âI can't, Joel," she pants, he knows she's overstimulated.
âYou can, I got yaâ
He withdraws, leaning back onto his knees, and he pulls her body up onto all fours. Entering her again, his thrusts turn ragged and messy as he pushes his thumb back into her ass even deeper than before, pushing the air from her lungs as her eyes screw shut.
She reaches back, gripping his wrist tightly as the new angle makes her clit hit just right against him. Just as he asked, she comes again; it's less intense this time, her body completely exhausted, but itâs enough for him to finally break.Â
"fuuuckk, I'm gonna come, whereâd ya want me?âÂ
âLet me taste you again.â She pants.Â
He pulls out, and she turns, her mouth opening, waiting for his load. Pulling the condom off, he tugs his dick hard until he's spurting his thick seed onto her tongue, groaning loudly as his release rips violently through his entire body.
âOhhh yeah, Jesus Christ.â He makes sure she catches every drop. âSwallow it, darlinâ.â
She does, and that sight alone is going to stay with him for a long time. He falls down onto his back, his limbs sore, his tummy rising and falling rapidly as he attempts to recover. She lies down beside him, her head resting on his chest. âGood?â he questions with a grin. Like he even needs to ask.
After a moment, she lays a soft kiss on his sweaty chest before disappearing into the bathroom to clean up. When she comes back, she finds his flannel, wrapping it around her naked body. She sits on the edge of the bed, bringing a knee to her chest as she looks at him. âThis wasn't a good idea.â She says softly, shaking her head, but the little smile apparent on her lips tells him something different.
He smirks, moving his arm up to rest behind his head. âI wonât tell if you donât.â He watches her fiddling with the sleeve of his flannel. âYou can keep that if you want; it looks better on you.âÂ
âYou know I can't." She chuckles.Â
âNo?â He sits up, reaching forward for her hand. âCome âere.â He pulls her across the bed until she straddles his lap. âYou want me to take it off ya, then?â
His index finger runs up the soft material before gently pushing it aside to reveal her nipple. Leaning in, he sucks it into his mouth, her sweet soft whimpers pleasing him. Squeezing her ass cheeks with both hands, he pauses and lifts his head, placing a soft kiss against her lips.
âWhat?â She searches his eyes, her hand combing through his fluffy brown curls.Â
"You ever need taking care of again, you know where I am.âÂ
âââ
Walking into Tommy's kitchen on Monday morning with his right eye black and swollen, Tommy's vigorous munching slows as he looks up and sees Joelâs face.
âJesus Christ, Joel.âÂ
Joel smirks, unbothered. "You should see the other guy.â He sits down opposite with a groan, instantly digging into the breakfast waiting for him.Â
âYouâre unbelievable.â Tommy sighs, shaking his head. âLook at ya, not an ounce of guilt about it.â
âGuilt? Sheâs an adult, Tommy; she makes her own decisions, and I guess I was one of them."
âFuck sake⊠so I need to find another apprentice?âÂ
âI told you before, we don't need one, but yeah... Nate isn't coming back.âÂ
âAnd her?â Tommy asks. Before Joel can reply, his phone buzzes in his back pocket. When he takes it out, Tommy watches a shit-eating grin spread across his brother's face. âThatâs her, isnât it?âÂ
He shrugs. âOh, Iâll be seeing her again.âÂ
Tommy pushes his chair back with a loud scrape. âYou can eat mine too, donât exactly have an appetite anymore.âÂ
WHEN SHE MAKES YOUR FAVORITE DESSERT!!đ„°đ„â€ïžđ„đ„°đ„đ·
Cherry pie
Pairing:Â Oldman!joel miller x f!reader
Summary:Â After countless dates with a boy, you know that next time youâre going to sleep with him. But youâre way too inexperienced. So what better way is there than showing up at Joel Millerâs door with cherry pie in hand, and asking if heâs willing to help you out?
Warnings:Â 18+, MDNI, smut, oldman!joel, dom!joel, both reader and Joel are kinda unhinged, slight pervy!joel, tiny bit of mean!joel but he is a softie, cheating (also not? bc reader is not together with that boy), inexperienced!reader, girthy age gap! (61 and 24), praise kink, slight degradation, breeding kink (?), oral m!receiving, pinv, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, fingering, riding, size kink, outbreak, tiny bit of thigh riding
A/N: oh my gosh that old, dirty man is back at it again. I missed him, I hope yall did toođ
Your fingers tapped nervously on the plate beneath the cherry pie. The sweet scent was almost unbearable, but giving up wasnât an optionânot after that time you spent searching for ingredients outside of Jackson.
The sun dipped low behind the trees and it was nearly evening. The timing was perfect for some pie, and you were sure Joel would love it.
His house sat on the quieter edge of Jackson, marked by a âMillerâ mailbox, a wooden porch, and a dried-out garden. (You couldnât blame him though, he was working way too hard to keep up with his garden.)
Three knocks.
âHi.â You greeted him, a smile tugging on your lips. His eyebrows quickly furrowedâjust as you know him. Joel looked exhausted. His green flannel dirty, hair messy and dirt stained boots. He just came back from work.
âWhatcha doinâ, girl?â His voice hoarse, deep. Sending shivers down your spine.
And you knew this was a bad idea. Heck, asking Joelâyour mentor, your teacher and someone who took care of you countless timesâto show you how to give someone a blowjob was embarrassing.
But you didnât know how else to learn. You were way too inexperiencedâno enough friends to ask, no porn, no education in this town.
And after your last time, having to interrupt a heavy make out session with that one boy who works at the day care, you needed desperate help for next time.
âBought you cherry pie.â
His eyes lingered over the pie for a moment, then landed on your bodyâfollowing the curve of your skin up and down, lingering far too long on the red crop top you were wearing.
âMade me pie, eh? Itâs cold outside. Come on in.â He opened his door wide, a hand coming to the small of your back and letting you inâlingering a bit longer than usual.
From the inside, his house was cosierâthe last bits of sunlight spilling from the windows, painting everything into a golden haze. His furniture, old and rugged like him, was scattered with soft pillows and a few photos here and there. And of course, his beloved wooden carved animals, carefully crafted, sat in every corner, quietly collecting dust.
You carefully place the pie on his kitchen counter, nervously biting the inside of your cheek.
Joel already pulls out two forks, one for you and one for him. âNow what do we have here.â
You knew he adored your pies. Sometimes youâd bake him two or even three, and heâd devour every last biteâbut only after heâd done something in return. Whether it was fixing something around your apartment or bringing you something from patrol, there was always a little exchange involved.
âWhatâs the matter with you? Why the face?â he asks, and your heart leaps, suddenly remembering why you came. He already took a generous bite of cherry pie, a smear of filling resting messily at the corner of his mouth.
âJustâuhm. Can you do me a little favor?â
âA favor? Shouldâve known. Yânever bring that old man pie without wanting any favors.â
You giggle quietly, also taking a bite of pie.
âWhat is it this time, sweetheart?â
Sweetheart.
The first time he called you that was when you were together on patrol. He taught you how to use a sniper, his hand landing gently on your shoulder, squeezing softly when you did well. Or when you helped him fix your lightâtools in your hand, his voice calling you a good girl when you handed him the right ones.
Or when he had you creaming around his fingers. After giving him his pie, quietly, on your couch. Leaving small kisses on your neck, the other hand rubbing your nipples through your shirt, telling you how good you are for him.
And a âthis canât happen again.â leaving you with wanting more.
So, you werenât sure if you were here because of that boy or because of Joel. Because, admittedly, you have been aching for his touch since then.
âCat got ya tongue?â He interrupts your thoughts with a quick snap of fingers. âMy back is fuckinâ killing me. Letâs sit down on the couch, then you can tell me about that little favour of yours.â
Before you can answer him, he pulls out two plates, carefully puts one slice for you and two slices for himself, and then walks to his living room with them.
You take a deep breath.
Walking into the living room, you see him sitting thereâalready one of the slices goneâas he starts on the other. You gently make your way to him, sitting down next to him. He takes his fork with pie and brings it to your mouth, making you giggle and take it, a coo leaving his lips.
âCâmon, say it,â he urges, nudging you. Your mind spins with all the ways this could end.
Either heâll react wellâjust as you know himâand help you, or heâll make you leave his house and never contact him again.
You start, âSo there is a boy.â And you can see him clenching his jaw tight, fork leaving his hand as his eyebrows furrow.
âThat so?â
âMhm. And IâI donât know how to ask you this butââ
You look down, your fingers fidgeting with each other, heart thudding in your chest like itâs about to break out.
âSpit it out, kid.â He sighs, sets the plate down, and turns his body toward youâmaking it now impossibly more difficult for you.
âIâI want to do things with him. But iâm kinda too inexperienced.â Your cheek heat up while youâre talking, your gaze falls down not wanting to look into his disturbed face. The air in the room now feeling impossibly thick.
After an awkward silence you peak up to Joel, who is just looking at you. You canât tell if itâs disbelief or disgust. Or maybe something in between.
âJesus christ, girl.â He mutters out. âAnd what do you want me to do? Hold your hand while youâre getting dicked down?â
Your eyes widen, a gasp leaving your lips at his wording.
âOh my godâno, no. Thatâs not what I meant.â Well, what you meant might be just a little bit worse than what he interpreted it as.
âJustâya knowâŠmaybe show me how to give a bloââ
âNah.â He interrupts you swiftly, shaking his head. âNot happeninââ
You sigh, defeated. Not only did you feel embarrassed, but you probably just ruined your almost perfect relationship with him. Joel took a pillow, mumbling something under his breath, and placed it over his lap. Your eyes perked up at thatâhe was hard. And he was trying to hide it.
âB-but, you also showed me something else the other time. Wouldnât be that the same?â
He sighs. âBaby, you ainât cominâ here dressed like that, bringing me cherry pie and asking me to give you sex ed.â
âYâknow I ainât got anyone else.â You poutâmaybe thatâll help. âAnd besides, you told me to come to you whenever I needed something right?â
âChrist,â he groans, rubbing his forehead. âJust can tell you how itâs done, yea? Nothinâ more.â
You hesitate. Hearing it out loud would be more awkward than him simply showing you. His eyes leave no room for choice, so you give a small nod.
âCominâ here asking me how to blow someone.â He shakes his head, in disbelief.
âHeyyy, JoelâI donât know how else to learn okey? I donât want to embarrass myself.â You whine.
âSâfine.â He grumbles under his breath, sitting up straight. âYâstart by teasing.â
His eyes land on your tits.
âShow âem. Every boy will appreciate it.â
Your cheeks flush red.
âThen you get on those pretty knees. Take it out, give it some love.â
You ask, curious. âHow do I give it some love?â
âCanât serve everything on a silver spoon can I?â Grumpy, annoyedâmaking you amused. The pout from earlier starts to form again, you give him a pleading look.
He sighs once again. âGive kisses first. From top to bottom. Stroke gently.â And you notice how the tip of his ears are red.
âAnd the rest is pretty much self explanatory, ainât it sweetheart?â
You look at him, the curiosity not letting up. As if you had no clue of the world, wanting him to explain it to you in every single detail. And you were so amused at how flushed and annoyed he was getting.
âGod damn, girl. Open them lips, wrap them around and go up and down.â
âHow fast?â
âJust how fast that person likes.â He shruggs.
âHow do I know how fast that person likes it?â And itâs laughable at how dumb you were making yourself seem, but seeing him grip the pillow over his crotch tighter, his cheeks flushed and sweat dripping from his foreheadâit was worth every single second.
âI let my girls know when I gather their hair in my palm and push them faster down.â
Your breath hitches, his girls.
âThen I buck my hips into their mouth,â he continues.
All this time, you thought Joel was a miserable, lonely man with no relationships whatsoever. Embarrassment washes over you as you think about how you believed you were the only one he likedâand that when he fingered you, you were special. You came here to get educatedâno, you came here to seduce him. And that was the plain truth.
âGot that in your pretty little head?â He asks you, suddenly pinching your chin between his fingers and making you look at him.
You wanted him to push your head down and buck his hips against you.
âNot really.â
âYouâre getting on my last nerves.â He grumbles before putting the pillow away and revealing his bulge. Your eyes land on it, as he zips down his pants, looking at you. His eyes darkening.
âCâmon. That brain of yours had to take some sort of information, right?â
His eyes land on your tits.
You quickly nod, pushing your crop top up quicky, revealing your breasts to him. You hear a groan leaving his chest, then a chuckle.
âGood, thatâs what I like to see.â His hand finds your chest, fingers squeezing, then pinching your nipple. âNow what do we do?â
âGet on my knees.â
âAtta girl. Get on those knees.â
He doesnât need to tell you twice when you slide down the couch and kneel in front of his bulge. Nodding, he gently pulls his hard one out of his boxers.
You almost start to drool at the sight.
He was so big. And he was pulsing. Red mushroom head, precum dribbling from the slit and decorated with veins from bottom to top.
âNow, what did we say?â He asks, his hand gently pumping himself up and down, while your eyes follow.
âGive it some love.â
Your hands shakily grab his cock, looking small compared to his length. Stroking up and down, looking up to him with doe eyes and placing kisses on every inch while you listen to Joels groans.
âThatâs it.â He gathers your hair into his palm, forming a loose ponytail to keep it from falling in your face. âA man should always do this, yea? Not let you do all the work.â
Your cheeks heat up again, his eyes lock into yours as you nod. There was a warmth spreading inside your panties. You had already difficulties taking his fingers last time, you wonder how itâll be if you took his cock.
âWanna take him into my mouth.â You mumble.
He coos. ââcourse ya do. Câmon then. Show me how good you listened.â
âUp and down.â You nod. âHm, up and down, thatâs right.â He answers.
You open your lips, hand gently stroking up and down his dick. Slowly, you wrap your mouth around his tip, hearing him shudder in response.
You try different things out. Swirling around, getting deeper, pulling out and giving small kitten licks. All the while Joel groans your name, and without noticing, your ponytail wrapped in his fist, he moves your headâslow, deliberateâup and down his length.
âJust like that. Yâlearning fast.â
The pleasure in your abdomen getting unbearable. You feel yourself soaking through your panties as you start grinding your hips against the heel of your foot.
âWould ya look at that.â He chuckles, his hand going faster.
And as Joelâs movements get messier, he dives your head down until a gag rises sharp in your throat. You cough, and he pulls out quickly, watching your face closely.
âDeep breaths, deep breaths, baby.â He carefully tries to calm you down, and while you try to breath normal again, he starts apologising: âIâm sorry, sweetheart. That shouldâve not happen. Got too lost in the pleasure.â
âSâokey.â You smile lazily to him, drool hanging from the sides of your face, lips swollen red. You looked too beautiful for your own damn good right now. And Joel wants nothing more to take you right then and there.
âI think thatâs enough for today. You already learned how to use your mouth. Iâm sure youâll do good.â
Disappointment washes down your face. You sit there looking up to him with pleading eyes. The throbbing in your cunt unbearable and the urge to take care of him way too big.
He slips the edge of his shirt over his thumb and brushes the drool from your mouth, slow and careful.
âPretty girl. You let that boy treat you well, yea? Or else.â He mumbles, but your eyes are only on his wet, aching cock.
The boy was forgotten, and Joel could see it in your hazy, fucked-out eyes. You were needyâneedy to be touchedâand he wished he could just take you, right on his couch. But he made that mistake once. He couldnât let it happen again.
You move before you even realize it, climbing onto his lap and settling on one of his thighs. His hard cock grazes your skin, and he takes his time looking at youâyour lips, your tits.
âOh angel, we canât.â A breath leaves his mouth.
You lean in and start kissing himâhis cheek, his neckâfingers stroking through his hair as you suckle on his collarbones. His hands find your waist, gripping tight. One hand cups your breast, pinching your nipple. And before you even realize it, your hips are grinding against his thigh.
âWhy?â You ask, laying your head against his chest, moving your hips in a slow rhythm.
âI would ruin you.â He answers, âAnd people in this town would kill us.â
âBut youâre just teachinâ me something. Nobody has to know.â
A groan leaves his lips when your hands wrap around his cock, gently stroking up and down.
âThat so?â
âHmâ, you nod. âYâstill need to teach me how to take cock.â
âJesus christ, sweetheart. When did ya get so bold, huh?â
And you want to say âwhen you left me with aching for moreâ but you donât. Instead, you focus on the pleasures building in your tummy. Grinding harder against the rough fabric of his jeans, and a whimper slipping from your lips.
Suddenly, Joel mumbles a âfuck it,â then follows with, âPull your pants and panties down. Now.â He demands itâand you do just that, standing up and tugging everything down.
âBut you ainât gonna complain if it hurts.â His hands pull you back into his lap, making you sit down again. âAll this begging and then complaining about it hurting would be pathetic, girl.â
âCâmere. Youâre wet enough.â One hand touches your folds, the other holding his cock. You buckle up, his tip gliding over your folds as you release a breath.
You gently and slowly, sink down.
âEasy, easy, babygirl.â He helps you. Squeezing your hips and guiding you through. A cry leaving your lips when you fully sit down. His length stretching you, touching places youâve never even felt before.
âSâbig, yea? Thatâs a mans cock, baby. Not gonna gave that much satisfaction when you ride that boy.â
Your head falls to his shoulder, biting down, clenching on his cock. âSo big.â A whimper falling from your lips.
âOh I know, I know.â He whispers. âBut youâll take it, baby. Still need to teach you, donât I?â He says it playfully. Joel knows the boy is long gone from your mindâand that you came here for one thing: to get fucked by him. Thereâs no denying it.
He shifts underneath you, gripping you by your thighs and thrusts two times up, leaving you breathless.
âGood?â
âMhm. More.â And he doesnât need to hear that twice. He starts giving you quick thrusts, altering between deep and slow, while your moans fill the room.
Your hands grip his shirt, looking at him, his eyebrows furrowed, concentrating, rough breaths leaving his mouth. Tits start to bounce up and down, while he pumps in and out of your squelching cunt.
âAinât the one I used to be, girlâhelp that old man, will you? Start moving your hips.â He groans.
Your body almost limb from the pleasure, starts moving at his request. Going up and down, circling. His hands guiding you, helping you. Biting your lips, whines filling the quiet room and as Joels body suddenly shudders, you feel it.
His cum pumping you. Spurt after spurt, filling you to the brim.
You whimper, looking down, seeing drops of cum escaping your pussy.
âOh, thatâs a good girl.â He coos. âTightest fuckinâ cunt iâve ever had. Made me cum in no time.â
And youâre still aching for more.
âCouldâve just go to him.â You shrug. âHe wouldâve at least lasted longer.â
Joel looks at you with widen eyes. The relief after his orgasm completely gone, his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushing red. Not with shame or embarrassment.
But anger.
Without a word, he grabs your hips and forces you down onto the couch beside him. Your eyes widen, hands clutching his neck as he looms over you.
âJoel, what are you doing?â You ask, with no answer. Instead, he spreads your legs and grabs his cock.
He glances down, noticing heâs still soft. After a few frustrated strokes, he mutters, âGod dammit.â
You giggle.
âFind that funny, huh?â He asks and you canât even answer before he fills you with two of his fingers, a yelp leaving your lips. âStill got my fingers, baby.â
âJoel..â You squeeze your eyes shut when he curls them, his thick fingers going in and out of you.
âMâright here, angel. Yâthink that boy of yours can reach those spots huh?â
And the spots he reaches are indescribable. Your mouth falls open when he hits your g-spot over and over again. Your legs start to shake, as you feel yourself getting close.
âLook at that, yâlet me cum in you so well.â He whispers, looking at the ring of sperm build around his fingers whenever he pulls them out of your cunt.
âJoeljoeljoel.â With that you clench down his fingers, hips bucking, tummy clenching, you come around his fingers with a big cry.
Before you can even come down, heâs filling you againâhis cock sliding in. The stretch feels good this time, and you clutch his shoulders as he murmurs your name. Your sensitive walls tighten around him, his length still a bit soft but just firm enough to push deep.
âTakinâ it so so good, baby.â He gently whispers in your ear. His lips latch into your neck, kissing and biting. Your moans start to fill the room again, as his thrusts begin in a quick rhythm.
âFeels good, feels so good.â You whimper, and squirm around. âI know it does, I know. That boy may last longer, but he wonât give you a reason for your pussy to be swollen red.â He looks down at your cunt while saying, a thumb landing on your clit.
You canât even listen to him as the pleasure grows in your tummy once again. âMâgonna cum, please.â
âGood, câmon then.â
His thumb speeds up at your clit, your leg falls from the couch because of the hard thrusts. Your hands grip impossibly tight to his shoulders.
âGonna fill you up again, show this whole town who you belong to, yea?â Your eyes get wide at that, making him chuckle. His thrusts growing sloppier and sloppier.
âJoel, please.â
âShh, sâokey. Cum with me, baby.â And you do.
You let go. This time, itâs harder than any orgasm youâve ever had. Your mouth falls open, silent, as Joel gives you two more hard thrusts before spilling inside youâfilling you up again, his release dripping onto the couch beneath you.
He kisses your temple, your nose, your forehead while you come down. His breathing is still hard and deep just like yours, softly coming down from the hard orgasms you two just had.
He pulls out, sits up slightly and watches as his cum oozes out of you.
âChrist, all filled up arenât you?â His fingers wander to your slit, then he gathers the cum that drips out of your hole and pushes it in with two of his fingers.
With all the exhaustion, you can only whimper.
He thrusts them in and out, thumb gently landing on your clit, just slightly grazing it and making you shudder because of the sensitivity.
âNo boy, yea? Youâre mine. And if that takes, thatâll prove it.â He looks at you, furrowed eyebrows. And you nod your head softly, limbs to weak to function as you lay on his couch filled to the brim while his fingers are still working inside of you.
The next orgasm rolls in quietly, soft and fleetingâjust enough to leave you relaxed and sleepy. Joel lets out a quiet chuckle, then pulls you close by the waist and shoulder. You nestle your head against his shoulder, and he kisses your forehead with quiet affection.
âGod damn, yâneed to bring me more often pie, sweetheart.â
đ”âđ«đ”âđ«đ”âđ« just need that old man so badâŠ
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Strawberry creampie
Pairing:Â Joel miller x f!reader
Summary:Â Youâre cramping, cranky, and just needed to grab a few things. Joelâs mouth had other plans. What starts as a simple ride to the store turns into a slow spiral of sleazy muttering, tuna-fueled rage, and unsolicited period advice. Youâre in pain. Heâs insufferable. And somehow, you still end up in his vanâa heat pad, a stolen shirt, and Joelâs version of comfort waiting in the back.
Warnings:Â 18+, smut, fluff, non specified age gap unprotected sex, fuck buddies, sleazy!joel (heâs back hehe), pinv, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, period sex, size kink, slight descriptions of blood, praise kink, chubby/fat!joel, slight degradation, daddy kink (just once), joel says the most unhinged things, aftercare, no outbreak,
A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR MY POOKIES!!đđ„° Can yâall tell Iâm on my period rn lmaođ Iâve ALWAYS wanted to write a period fic and I finally did it!! Also yes, I used a picture of Hopper for the headerâSUE ME. We needed to see Joel Millerâs belly more đđđđ
Joel pulls up in that same beat-up truckâthe one that sounds like itâs coughing up its last breath every time it moves, held together by duct tape and Joels stubborn will.
The passenger door creaks loudly as he opens it for you to slip in.
âLooking good, sweetheart,â he drawls, eyes flicking over you with that lazy smirk that always makes you want to roll your eyes and punch him into the ribs. âYou do somethinâ different with your hair, or is that just bedhead?â
You donât answer.
âGoddamn doorâs stickinâ again,â he mutters, slamming it shut behind you with a grunt once youâre in. âGotta hit it twice now. Like Iâm tryinâ to put down a damn zombie. I swear, one of these days this whole pieceâa shitâs just gonna fall apart while Iâm drivinâ. Hoodâll fly off, wheelsâll roll in opposite directions, and Iâll just sit there like an asshole in the middle of the road.â
Joel was a man of many words. Too many, as you always liked to say. There wasnât a sentence he didnât lace with a curse or a complaint, but thatâs just what made him Joel.
He slaps the dashboard affectionately, like itâs a stubborn old dog. âBut sheâs got character, yâknow? Canât just toss her out. Sheâs earned her miles.â
You glance at the cracked windshield, tape curling at the edges, smelling the familiar faint scent of gasoline and old leather.
Heâs already shifting into gear, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the back of your seat. The truck lurches forward with a wheeze, and Joel mutters something under his breath that sounds like a curse (once again).
You werenât sure when exactly your life veered off of courseâwhich wrong turn, which bad decision, which moment of weakness landed you here, tangled up with this sleazy, grumbling old man who smelled like motor oil and cheap soap and somehow still managed to get under your skin in all the worst ways.
Joel wasnât your boyfriend. Hell, he wasnât even really a friend. He was justâŠthere. A warm body, a familiar mouth, an orgasm when you need it the most.
And yet, here you were asking your fuck buddy to help you run errands, as if that was something normal.
âTommy called this morninâ,â he starts, like he has been waiting all day to talk about it. âSaid he needs help fixinâ the fence again. I told him, âYou break it every damn week, maybe stop leaninâ ya fat ass on it.ââ
He snorts, clearly pleased with himself. âDidnât like that much. Got all huffy. Said itâs not his fault the wind knocked it down. I said, âBullshit. The wind didnât eat three burgers and leaned on that damn thing.ââ
You glance at him, unimpressed. He doesnât notice.
âThen he starts goinâ on about how I never answer my phone. I said, âMaybe if you stopped callinâ me every time a nail pops loose, Iâd be more inclined.â Told him Iâm not his damn handyman. He said, âYouâre not doinâ anything else.â I said, âExactly. Let me keep not doinâ it in peace.ââ
He shakes his head, muttering, âIdiotâs gonna be the death of that damn fence. Or me.â
He glances at you again, expecting a smirk, a laugh, something. But youâre just staring out the window, arms crossed tight over your chest.
Joel frowns, drums his knuckles against the steering wheel, a soft, rhythmic tap that fills the quiet. His eyes flick back to the road, then to you again.
âWhat about you, sweetheart?â he asks, voice casual but slightly unsure. âHow was your day?â
You shrug, barely. âForgot my eggs on the pan.â
He snorts. âShit. Bet the whole house smells like rubber now.â
You nod, still not looking at him.
He chuckles, shaking his head. âOne time I damn near burned my kitchen down doinâ that. Left the stove on, went outside to yell at the neighborâs dogâlittle bastard kept barking like a maniacâcame back in and the whole pan was blacker than my coffee.â
You shift slightly, arms still crossed, but your mouth twitches. Just a little.
Joel catches it. Keeps going.
âWhole place smelled like shit. Like scorched tires and disgusting rubber. Took a week to air it out. Had to throw the pan out tooâthing looked like itâs been through a war.â
A quiet laugh escapes as a huff, involuntary and short.
Joel glances over, smug. âThere she is.â He taps the wheel again, slower this time. âYou alright?â
You donât answer. Just shift again, pressing your hand to your stomach, feeling that sharp pain tearing through your insides.
Joel notices. But he doesnât say anything. Not yet.
âWhere dâyou want me to take you, sugar? Grocery store? Liquor store? Straight to hell?â
You mutter, âJust grocery store.â
âGood. I was runninâ low on stuff too.â He answers, looking at you, expecting a smileâa something. But you just look out of the window.
He asks again, slower this time. âYou really good?â
You nod, but itâs tight. Joel doesnât pushânot yet. Just mutters, âAlright then,â and pulls out onto the road, one hand on the wheel, the other drumming on his thigh.
The ride to the store is mostly filled with Joelâs annoying voice: a steady stream of complaints about traffic, gas prices, and some guy who apparently parked too close to his truck last week. You let it just wash over you, eyes fixed on the trees and strip malls outside the window, while your stomach cramps in slow, mean pulses.
Inside the store, the fluorescent lights are too bright, buzzing faintly overhead like a swarm of insects.
You move through the aisles on autopilot, grabbing the essentials: a bottle of ibuprofen, a bag of chips you probably wonât eat, a chocolate bar you definitely will. You pause at the feminine hygiene aisle, grab a box of pads and one box of tamponsâjust to be prepared for everything.
And JoelâŠwell Joel, of course, is nowhere near the checkout. You find him two aisles over, standing toe tp toe with a man in a hoodie, voice raised just enough to draw attention.
âIâm tellinâ you, itâs real damn fish,â Joel is saying, gesturing wildly with a can of tuna in one hand. âYou think theyâre just grindinâ up mystery meat and callinâ it tuna for fun?â
The other man scoffs. âIâm just sayinâ, it donât taste like fish. Itâs likeâŠfish adjacent.â
Joelâs eyes narrow. âYou ever seen a cow in a can? No? Then shut the hell up.â
You sigh, stepping in before it escalates. âJoel.â
He barely glances at you. âTell this guy tunaâs real damn fish.â
âIâm not doing this,â you mutter, grabbing his arm and steering him toward the checkout. âCome on.â
He lets you pull him away but not without a parting shot. âYouâre the reason the countryâs goinâ to hell, yâknow that? Canât even trust a man with a can opener anymore.â
You donât respond. Just shove your items onto the band and pretend you donât know him while he mutters under his breath about âfish truthersâ and something about âgoddamn grocery store philosophers.â
Back in the truck, you toss the bag into the backseat and climb in, settling into the passenger side with a sigh. Joelâs already midrant, one hand on the wheel, the other gesturing like heâs still in the store, still arguing with the guy in the hoodie.
âIâm tellinâ you, itâs fish. Tuna is fish. I donât give a shit if itâs in a can or swimminâ in the damn ocean.â
You donât even care anymore.
Because this is Joelâa man whoâd argue with a stranger over canned tuna like it was a matter of world security. A man who was always loud, always wrong, and always ready to throw hands over the dumbest shit.
But he could fuck. God, could he fuck. And when this whole thing started, that was the only part you let yourself care about.
The rest? The attitude, the mouth, the sleazeâyou told yourself you could ignore. Just noise. Just background. Even while itâs annoying.
Joel keeps going, voice low and gravelly. âI swear, people get one opinion and suddenly theyâre a damn marine biologist. âOh, tunaâs not real fish.â Whatâs next? Chickenâs not real poultry? My dickâs not real meat?â
You snort, but donât look at him.
Joel catches it instantly. âYou agree with me now, right?â he says, smug as hell. âKnew it. Knew you were on my side.â
You shake your head, staring out the window. âIâm not on anyoneâs side. I just think itâs funny you almost fought a man over a can of fish.â
He scoffs, still grumbling about the tuna guy when his voice drops into something lower, lazierâfamiliar. His voice softens, just a notch. âYou got everything you wanted, hon?â
You nod, slow. âYeah.â
He watches you for a second longer, then shifts his gaze back to the road. âNeed to go anywhere else?â
âNo, butâŠthank you.â
âOh, my polite girl,â he says, grinning all cheeky. He reaches over and pinches your cheek, rough fingers warm and calloused.
You huff, batting his hand away. âDonât.â
He chuckles, leaning back against his seat. âGot adrenaline runninâ through my veins. You shouldâve just let me fight that dude.â
You glance at him. âYou still there?â
Joel scoffs. âAinât lettinâ myself get disrespected like that. People piss me off,â he mutters. âWhole damn store full of idiots. Got me all wound up.â
He glances at you, then back at the road. âCould use a distraction. Somethinâ to take the edge off.â
You shake your head.
He smirks to himself, voice dipping into that slow, familiar drawl. âCould bury my face in somethinâ soft. Shut my mouth for a while. Youâd like that, wouldnât you?â
You donât even look at him. âShut up.â
That actually makes him pause.
âWoah,â he mutters, glancing over. âUsually you like my tone.â
You donât respond, keeping yourself from insulting him.
He watches you for a second longer, then scoffs. âWhat, now you wanna get on my nerves too?â
You still donât say anything.
Joel shakes his head, muttering, âWhatâs the matter with you today anyway?â Then, under his breath, half a joke, half a threat: âAll stuck up. Need me to fuck it outta you?â
You roll your eyes while shifting, pressing your palm tighter against your stomach, jaw clenched.
Joel watches you for a second longer, then leans back in his seat with a low exhale. âAh,â he mutters. âSo thatâs what this is.â
You glare at him. âDonât.â
He grins wider. âYou on your period, sugar?â
You roll your eyes. âJesus, Joel.â
âWhat?â he says, all mock innocence. âIâm just observant. You get all quiet and mean, start holdinâ your tummy like that. Iâve seen it before.â
You mutter something under your breath and look out the window.
He leans in a little, voice dropping. âYâknow, I used to see this girl who loved gettinâ fucked on her period. Said it helped with the cramps. Said I was better than Midol.â
You groan. âYouâre disgusting.â
He chuckles. âYeah, but Iâm not wrong.â
A beat of silence. The truck hums beneath you, tires rolling over cracked pavement.
Then Joel shifts, glancing at you again â slower this time. âYou want me to take you home?â
You shake your head. âDonât feel like being alone.â
He nods once, like that settles it. âAlright.â
Without saying anything, he reaches overârough palm warm through the fabric and lays his hand over your tummy. Rubs once, slow and firm, like heâs done it before.
âCâmon,â he mutters. âLetâs go back to my van.â
You furrow your eyebrows.
He shrugs, voice low. âIâll crank the heat. You can lay down, steal my last clean shirt, bitch about my mattress. I wonât even try anything.â
You raise a brow.
He smirks. âUnless you ask real nice.â
You roll your eyes, but heâs not done.
âCould even rub your tummy,â he adds, voice syrupy. âOr your thighs. Or whatever elseâs achinâ. Iâm versatile like that.â
You snort. âYouâre a menace.â
âDamn right I am,â he says, grinning. âBut Iâm a menace with a heated van and a soft spot for cranky girls who forget their eggs on the stove.â
You try not to smile. Fail.
He sees it. âThere she is,â he says, satisfied. âKnew Iâd get you.â
You sigh, long and slow. âFine. But Iâm not in the mood for your shit tonight.â
Joel taps the wheel, already pulling into a turn. âGood. Iâll keep it to a low simmer.â
You shake your head, but you donât stop him. And he doesnât ask again.
Joel doesnât shut up the whole ride back.
Heâs still going on about the tuna guy, about âidiots with opinions and no taste budsâ and how âthis countryâs gone soft, that you canât even trust a man with a can opener anymore.â
Every few minutes, he reaches over to poke your side, just enough to make you flinch and swat at him, which only encourages him more.
Youâre too tired to argue, and the cramps are starting to dig in deeper, like something inside you is twisting just to be cruel.
By the time he pulls up to the van, the skyâs gone a dull gray, the kind that makes everything look washed out and tired. The vanâs parked in its usual spotâhalf on gravel, half on dead grass, tucked behind a sagging fence that leans like itâs given up.
Thereâs a busted lawn chair tipped over in the dirt, a rusted grill that hasnât seen fire in years, and a pile of wood that mightâve once been a table.
Itâs a mess. But itâs Joelâs mess. And somehow, that makes it feelâŠfamiliar. Even safe in a twisted way.
He hops out and circles around to your side, opening the door for you with a dramatic bow.
âMa lady,â he says, voice syrupy.
Inside, the van is exactly how you remember it.
Dim, cluttered, smelling like cigarettes, old leather, and something vaguely wooden. The red curtains are drawn, casting everything in a soft, crimson gloom. Then thereâs a pile of laundry in the corner, a half empty mug on the counter, and a pair of boots kicked off near the door.
The bedâs unmadeâsheets rumpled, blanket half on the floorâbut itâs still comfortable. You know it.
Itâs the same bed where Joel first pulled you down with that crooked grin and promised to show you some âlovinâ and care,â and then fucked your brains out.
You sit down on the edge of it now, letting out a low groan as you clutch your stomach.
Joel watches you for a beat, then makes a soft, exaggerated cooing sound. âPoor baby,â he says, like heâs talking to a wounded animal. âNeed some water?â
You nod, and he moves to his tiny kitche, grabbing a bottle from the mini fridge. Itâs not cold, but itâs water so you take it with a quiet âthanks.â
He eyes you for a second, then gestures vaguely towards your jeans. âYou need to change or somethinâ? I got a shirt you can wear. Big nâsoft. Smells just like me.â
You raise an eyebrow. âThatâs not a selling point.â
He smirks. âSure it is. You love how I smell.â
You donât answer that with a response, but when he tosses the shirt your wayâa faded green thing thatâs probably seen more oil stains than laundry detergentâyou take it anyway.
It does smell like him. Cigarettes, sweat, and something warm and earthy underneath. You change in the cramped little bathroom, peeling off your jeans with a wince and tugging the oversized shirt down over your thighs.
When you come back out, Joelâs already stripped down to his boxers, scratching at his stomach with one hand and tossing his fannel into the laundry pile with the other.
âGotta take a shower,â he mutters. âSweat my damn ass off today arguing with that guy.â
You donât look at him, but you can hear the way he grunts as he moves, the way the floor creaks under his weight. Heâs bigâbroad and solid, with a belly that presses against the counter when he leans over it, soft and round and unapologetic. He doesnât suck it in. Doesnât hide. Just scratches his ribs and yawns like youâre not even there.
âYou stay here, yeah?â he says, nodding toward the bed. âLookâheating pad.â
He pulls it from under a pile of flannels and plugs it in, testing it with his palm before handing it over. âOld man like me needs somethinâ warm for his back, but you need it more than me right now, hon.â
You take it without a word, pressing it to your stomach as you sink back onto the bed. The warmth is immediate, soothing. You close your eyes for a second, breathing through the ache.
Joel steps closer, leans down, and presses a kiss to your foreheadârough lips, scratch of stubble, the faintest scent of wood and sweat.
âStay here, baby.â
You donât argue, donât roll your eyes. Just curl onto your side, the heating pad tucked against your belly, and listen to the sound of the water starting up in the tiny shower stall.
The van creaks as Joel moves, his body brushing the narrow walls, muttering something about how âthese damn doors keep shrinkinââ as his stomach bumps the frame.
You donât look, even while the door is open.
Youâve seen it before. The way he moves like he owns every inch of himself, the soft weight of him, the stretch of his skin, the way he doesnât flinch when he catches his reflection. Itâs not confidence, exactly. Itâs just Joel. Unbothered. Unapologetic.
And somehow, thatâs the part that makes you stay.
The water shuts off with a metallic groan, and a moment later you hear the soft thud of Joelâs feet against the floor, the creak of the bathroom door swinging open. Steam rolls out in a wave, curling into the cool air of the van.
He steps out, towel slung low around his hips, belly damp and flushed pink from the heat. His hairâs slicked back, droplets clinging to his chest hair, trailing down the curve of his stomach.
Then, his eyes land on you, curled up on the bed like a cocoon, Joelâs oversized shirt swallowing your frame. The heating pad hums faintly beneath the blanket, but your face is pinched, one hand still pressed to your stomach, the other curled into the sheets.
Joelâs expression softens. âOh, honey girl,â he murmurs, stepping closer. âYou look like hell, donât you?â
You donât bother answering. Youâre too tired, too sore, too wrapped in the dull throb of your own body to do anything but breathe through it.
He crouches besides the bed, towel shifting slightly on his hips, and reaches out to brush your hair back from your forehead. His fingers are warm, still damp, and surprisingly gentle.
âThere she is,â he says, voice low and fond. âMy little grump.â
You close your eyes, letting him touch you. comforting. Familiar. His hand moves to your head, stroking slow, then down to your shoulder, thumb tracing lazy circles into the fabric of his own shirt.
âHurts bad?â he asks.
You nod, barely.
He sighs. âAlright. Scoot over.â
You do, and he climbs onto the bed besides you, the mattress dipping under his weight.
The towel stays on (barely) as he settles in behind you, one arm draping over your waist. His hand finds your stomach, warm and broad, and he starts to rub in slow, steady circles.
âLike this?â he murmurs.
You hum, the pressure easing something deep inside you. He keeps going, patient and quiet, his breath warm against the back of your neck.
After a while, his hand drifts lower, to your hip, then your thigh. Kneading and soothing. His touch is firm but careful, like heâs trying to press the pain out of you with his palms.
You melt into it, tension bleeding out of your muscles one knot at a time.
Joel leans in, lips brushing your temple. âTold you Iâm better than Midol.â
You donât answer, but your body doesâsoftening under his touch, breath slowing, eyes fluttering shut.
âYouâre warminâ up,â he murmurs, voice low and rough. âFeelinâ better?â
You hum, eyes half-lidded. âA little.â
He leans in, lips brushing your temple. âGood. Hate seeinâ you all curled up like that. Makes me wanna fix it.â
His hand drifts up, slow and warm, brushing the hem of the shirt. He pauses just beneath your ribs, thumb tracing lazy circles into your side.
âThese girls also sore?â he murmurs, voice low and rough.
You donât answer right away. Just let out a soft, miserable whine and nod, eyes still closed.
Joel hums, like heâs been given permission. âYeah, figured.â
His hand slides up, careful and slow, until heâs cupping you through the fabric. No pressure, just warmth. His thumb strokes gently along the curve, feather-light.
âMm,â he murmurs. âAll swollen. Poor things.â
You let out a shaky breath, but you donât stop him. You donât want to. So he keeps going, slow and steady, massaging with the kind of care that makes your chest ache in a different way. Something that makes you feel safe and seen.
His hand quietly drifts lower, just a littleânot quite crossing any lines, but close enough that your breath catches. He notices. Of course he does.
âYâknow,â he says, tone going sly, âI wasnât kiddinâ earlier. Had a girl once swore up and down that a good fuck was better than any painkiller.â
You groan, but itâs half-hearted. âJoelâŠâ
He grins against your skin. âWhat? Iâm just sayinâ. Could be medicinal. Therapeutic, even. Iâm a giver like that.â
His hand slides a little farther, palm warm against the top of your thigh now, thumb pressing slow, soothing circles into the muscle.
âBet I could make you forget all about that ache,â he murmurs, voice like honey and gravel. âReal gentle. Real slow. Just enough to take the edge off.â
You donât answer, but your body does. Your hips shifting slightly, breath hitching and already a small pulse inside your underwear.
Joel chuckles, low and pleased. âThatâs what I thought,â he says, brushing his nose along your jaw. âFeelinâ better already.â
Thereâs a pauseânot awkward, just quiet and then you murmur, barely above a whisper, âIâd bleed all over your sheets.â
Joelâs hand stills for a second. Then he lets out a soft snort, amused but not mocking.
âYâthink I care?â he says, voice low and rough. âSugar, I can throw âem in the machine. Hell, Iâll toss âem out if I have to. Ainât like theyâre made of gold.â
You donât say anything. Just stare at his sheets, jaw tight.
He leans in, brushing his nose against your temple. âAinât nothinâ about you thatâs disgusting. You hear me?â
You shift again, uncomfortable in a way that has nothing to do with your body. âItâs not exactlyâŠsexy.â
Joel huffs. âWho said anything about sexy? Iâm talkinâ about you. Hurtinâ. Needing somethinâ. I donât give a damn what time of the month it is. You think Iâm scared of a little blood?â
You glance at him, uncertain. He meets your eyes, steady and sure.
âIâve seen worse,â he says, smirking. âHell, Iâve bled more than that just tryinâ to fix the damn carburetor.â
You let out a reluctant laugh, small and shaky.
âYou know iâm rightâ he murmurs, brushing a thumb across your cheek. âAinât nothinâ you could do thatâd scare me off. You wanna lay here and groan, Iâll rub your back. You wanna cry, Iâll hold you. You wanna ride me bloody, Iâll lay down a towel and thank you after.â
Your face burns. âJoel.â
He grins, unbothered. âWhat? Iâm just sayinâ. You donât gotta be embarrassed. Not with me.â
You look at him, really look, and thereâs no judgment in his eyes. Just that same crooked affection, that strange mix of sleaze and sincerity that somehow makes you feelâŠsafe.
You exhale, long and slow, and let your head fall back against the pillow.
âOkay,â you whisper.
Joel leans down, presses a kiss to your forehead againâsofter this time, lingering.
âGood girl,â he murmurs. âNow stand up. Let me take care of you.â
Joel shifts behind you also standing up, the bed creaking under his weight as he leans over to the far end. You hear the soft rustle of fabric, the tug of a pillow being yanked free from under a pile of laundry, the click of the heating pad being unplugged and moved.
You blink up at him, glassy eyed. âWhatâre you doing?â
He doesnât answer right away. Just lays a pillow down near the end of the bed, smooths the heating pad over it, then tosses a towel on top.
âGonna make you a little nest,â he says, glancing over his shoulder with a crooked grin. âGet you all warm and comfy. Then Iâm gonna fuck the pain right outta you.â
You huff, but your bodyâs already respondingâa slow, low ache curling in your belly, different from the cramps. Deeper. Thicker.
Joel pats the towel. âLay down on your tummy, sugar. Right here. Let that heat hit you where it counts.â
You hesitate, but only for a second. Then you shift forward, letting him guide you down. The towelâs soft against your skin, the heating pad radiating warmth through the fabric, straight into your lower belly. You exhale, already feeling the relief.
Joel stands behind you, hands smoothing over your hips, adjusting you just so. âThere we go,â he murmurs. âNice and easy. Just like that.â
You bury your face into the sheets, the scent of him everywhereâsmoke, sweat, soap.
Then he leans down, presses a kiss on your thigh, and whispers, âJust let go, baby. I got you.â
You feel the slow, deliberate tug of your panties being eased down.
âIs it⊠is it dripping blood?â You tense.
Joel pauses for half a second. Then he lets out a low, appreciative sound, voice thick with that familiar drawl.
âNah,â he murmurs, leaning in close. âItâs drippinâ heaven, baby.â
You groan, burying your face into the sheets. âYouâre disgusting.â
He chuckles, unbothered. âYeah, but youâre still lettinâ me touch you.â
You donât argue. You canât. Not when his hands are back on your hips, warm and steady, not when his voice is in your ear, all gravel and heat.
He shifts behind you, the rustle of his towel hitting the floor barely audible over the sound of your own breathing.
One hand slides down, fingers brushing between your thighs, exploring your folds. âAlready wet,â he murmurs, almost to himself. Then, lower: âNeed me to prep you?â
You shake your head, barely. You just needed relief.
He exhales, rough and quiet. âAlright.â
He pushes in slow, careful, just the tip and then stills, breath catching in his throat.
âJesus,â he mutters, voice rough. âYouâre so damn tight like this.â
You whimper, hips twitching under his hands.
He leans over you, lips brushing your hip. âBut feels like heaven, baby. All warm and snug and squeezinâ me like you missed me.â
You bury your face in the pillow, flushed and aching, but you donât pull away.
He pushes in slow, inch by inch, his breath ragged, hands gripping your hips like heâs holding himself back by sheer force of will. Youâre warm and tight around him, body pulsing with heat and ache, and he groans low in his throat.
Joel groans, rolling his hips just a little. âCould stay right here all night. Just like this. Deep and slow. Let you milk the pain outta both of us.â
You whimper, burying your face into the sheets once again, the stretch deep and aching but good. So good.
Joel stills once heâs fully seated inside you, chest heaving. Then, with a low grunt, he shiftsâknees bracing on either side of your thighs, his body rising over yours.
And then he lowers himself, slow and heavy, until his belly settles against the small of your back, warm and solid.
You moan, the weight of him pressing you deeper into the heat of the pillow, the pressure on your belly somehow soothing and overwhelming all at once.
âToo much?â he murmurs, voice rough but careful.
You shake your head, breath shallow. âJustâŠheavy.â
He chuckles, low and fond. âYeah, I know. Big olâ bastard, ainât I?â
You huff a laugh, even as your lungs work a little harder under him.
Joel shifts, just enough to take some of the weight off your ribs, his forearms bracing him up. âTell me if itâs too much. Iâll hold myself up. Donât want you passinâ out on meânot unless I earned it.â
You roll your eyes, but your body relaxes under him. The weight of him is grounding, comforting in a way you didnât expect. Like being blanketed in heat and muscle and the steady rhythm of his breath.
The bed creaks again as he starts to moveâslow, deep thrusts that rock the whole frame. The headboard taps the wall in time, a soft, rhythmic thud that fills the space between your moans and his low, filthy praise.
âFuckinâ,â he breathes. âYouâre so goddamn soft under me. Like a warm fuckinâ peach, ripe and drippinâ.â
You whine, half from the ache, half from the way his words go straight to your spine.
He chuckles, low and filthy. âThatâs it, you just lay there, sugar. Let me do the work. Let me press all that ache outta that sweet little belly. Ainât no Midol in the world that hits like this.â
You cry out, feeling him hit that one spot in you.
Deep, dragging thrusts that make your breath catch and your fingers curl into the sheets. Every inch of him presses into you, every roll of his hips sending a fresh wave of heat through your belly.
âShit, girl⊠Iâm stickinâ to you. Sweat, blood, all of it. My bellyâs glued to your back like weâre welded together.â He murmurs.
Youâre already so sensitiveâfrom the cramps, from the heat, from everything heâs done to you tonight. Every stroke against your walls feels like too much and not enough all at once.
And then he shifts just rightâhits that spot deep inside once again, and you gasp, a high, broken sound, and your thighs tremble.
Joel stills, just for a second. âOh, baby,â he groans, voice thick with heat. âYou gonna cum already?â
You canât even answer. Itâs already happeningâyour body clenching around him, breath stuttering, pleasure crashing over you like a wave you didnât see coming.
Joel groans, low and guttural. âFuck, thatâs it. Thatâs my girl. So goddamn tight, milkinâ me already.â
You whimper, overwhelmed, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, your jaw, your neckâhis weight just pressing you down more.
âDidnât even have to work for it,â he murmurs, voice all grit and honey. âJust slid in and you broke for me. That sweet little body was begginâ for it, huh?â
Youâre still trembling beneath him, body limp and flushed, breath catching in your throat as the last waves of your orgasm ripple through you. Joel stays buried deep, his weight a warm press on your back, his breath hot against your neck.
He leans in. âThat helped? Made your cramps all better?â
You nod, still dazed, cheek pressed to the mattress.
He grins, slow and smug. âTold ya Iâd fuck those cramps right outta that pretty little belly.â
Then he looks down again, and you feel the way his breath hitchesâthe way your hips twitch, the way the blood is dripping down his cock.
âLook at this fuckinâ mess,â he mutters, voice thick with heat. âAll that blood and slick⊠drippinâ down my cock like you needed it.â
You cry out under him, body limp and flushed, when Joel grinds in againâslow, deep, relentless. The overstimulation sharp and sweet all at once.
âSensitive?â he rasps, voice thick with heat. âGood. Daddy likes it like that.â
He shifts his knees wider, bracing himself, and then he thrusts deeper. So deep. You gasp, the pressure sharp and overwhelming, like heâs pressing into something you didnât even know was there.
âShit,â he groans, voice thick and ragged. âYou feel that, baby? Thatâs me hittinâ the end of you.â
You whine out loud, hips twitching, the pillow under your belly pushing everything tighter, more intense.
Joel leans in, his belly heavy on your back. âCan feel your little womb flinchinâ around me,â he mutters, filthy and reverent all at once. âLike itâs begginâ me to stay.â
You moan, overwhelmed, and he grinds in againâslow, relentless, like heâs trying to brand the shape of himself into you.
âYouâre shakinâ like a leaf, baby.â He coos. Overstimmed, overstuffed, and still takinâ it. Thatâs my girl. Thatâs what I like.â
âJoelââ you whimper, your head already floaty.
âI know, honey.â
The bed creaks beneath you both, the heat from the pad, the weight of him, the stretchâitâs all just too much and not enough. Youâre drowning in it, in him, in the way he fills every inch of you.
Joel kisses your shoulder, then growls, âYouâre gonna come again, baby. I can feel it. Gonna milk me dry, ainât you?â
And with the next thrustâdeep, slow, all inâyou do.
Body shaking, cunt releasing all kinds of fluids and your breath knocked away.
âSecond oneâs always the messiest.â he whispers, pulling out an inch and looking at all the mess you did. âYouâre somethinâ else, you know that? Sweetest little thing I ever ruined.â
Youâre wrecked. Muscles slack, thighs sticky, brain fogged. And before you can calm down, he moves again. Gentle, deliberate rolls inside your cunt and your body jolts like it wasnât expecting more.
You gasps, voice all breath and disbelief: âYouâre still? Joel⊠I canât take no moreâŠâ
And he just leans in, mouth hot at your ear, hand now sliding up your ribs to hold you still.
âShhh⊠hush now.â A low, lazy murmur. âYou said that last time. And look at youâstill here. Still takinâ it.â
He starts pressing in deeper, making you see stars.
âMmm⊠this oneâll fix those cramps up real good. Better than any damn pill ever could.â
You try to speak, to protest, but all that comes out is a broken moan. Your legs twitch. Your breath stutters. And he feels itâthe way your body starts to tighten again, even before your mind catches up.
He slows down, just enough to make you feel every inch, every drag of him inside you. His hand stays between your legs, fingers slick and steady, working your clit with maddening precision. Youâre trembling, overstimulated, breath hitching with every pass of his thumb.
âCâmon, baby,â he murmurs, voice low and wrecked. âI know itâs a lot. I know youâre sensitive.â
You whimper, hips twitching, trying to pull awayâbut he just follows, keeps you pinned with his weight and his mouth at your ear.
âBut youâre takinâ it so good,â he breathes. âSo fuckinâ good for me. Just one more. You can do that, canât you?â
You shake your head, but itâs uselessâyour bodyâs already betraying you, clenching around him, grinding into his hand like itâs got a mind of its own.
âThatâs it,â he whispers. âLet me feel you. Let me help. Gonna fuck those cramps right outta you.â
And then he adds: âThat little belly will thank me later.â
Youâre too raw, too full, too far goneâand he knows it. He wants it.
âCum for me,â he growls, thrusts deep and slow. âGive me that third one. Let me feel you fall apart.â
And you doâagainâwith a cry thatâs more sound than breath, your body seizing around him as he fucks you through it, coaxing every last wave of pleasure from your overstimmed, aching core.
Your thighs clamp under his hips, your cunt pulsing so hard it borders on pain. You sob through it, too sensitive, too full, and still he doesnât stop, dragging it out until youâre writhing, begging, soaked and ruined.
He groans deep, guttural, and his hips stutter, grinding in deep, and staying there. His voice is a rasp: âFuck⊠thatâs it. Thatâs it, baby. Take it. Take all of it.â
You feel him spill inside you, hot and slow, his whole body pressed tight to yours, breath ragged against your neck. Youâre shaking. Floating. Gone.
âGod damn itâmy fuckinâ backââ he grits out, voice cracking as he drives in deep one last time.
He groans, loud and low, like itâs being torn out of him, and you feel itâthe heat, the weight, the way he spills inside you like heâs been holding it back for hours.
âShit⊠thatâs it⊠thatâs itâŠâ he mutters, forehead pressed to your shoulder, body trembling. âGonna need a fuckinâ ice pack after this. Jesus.â
You canât help itâyou laugh between all that overstimulation, breathless and wrecked, still clenching around him.
He huffs a laugh too, catching his breath. âDonât you dare laugh at me, woman. I just threw my back out makinâ you see stars.â
He doesnât pull out. Doesnât move. Just stays there, heavy and warm, muttering into your skin.
âYou good, darlinâ?â he murmurs, voice low and warm. âStill breathinâ? âCause I ainât sure I am.â
You hum something soft, too gone to answer, and he chucklesâa slow, wrecked sound.
Finally, with a grunt and a muttered âAlright, here we goâŠâ, he shifts his weight, pulls out slow, and pushes himself up. His knees pop again. His feet hit the floor of the van with a heavy thud, and you groan because you canât feel your body.
âSticky little thing. You know what you look like down there? GoddamnâŠlike strawberry cream pie, baby. Red white and split open and spillinâ sweet all over me.â
You sigh, dragging a hand over your face. âUgh, Joel⊠youâre so disgusting.â
He just grins, slow and lazy, like he knows exactly what heâs doing to you.
âYeah?â he drawls, dragging two fingers through the mess and smearing it along your thigh. âThen why you blushinâ, huh?â
You try to glare at him, but your face is hot, your body still trembling, and you canât stop the way your hips twitch when he touches you again.
âShut up,â you mumble, voice thin and wrecked.
He grabs a towel, wets it from the bottle, then kneels between your thighs.
But before he even touches the towel to your skin, he leans in and drags his tongue through the mess he left behind. Blood, come, sweat all of it.
You gasp, hips twitching, eyes flying open.
âJoelââ
He just chuckles, low and wrecked, licking his lips like heâs savoring it.
âTastinâ like honey,â he mutters, voice thick with heat. âSweetest thing I ever put my mouth on.â
You groan, half mortified, half melting, and he grins like he knows exactly what heâs doing to you.
Then he takes the towel and starts to clean you sweet and slow, gentle strokes, careful not to press too hard.
âEasy now,â he murmurs. âLet me take care of you, darlinâ. You earned it.â
He leans over, brushing your hair back from your face.
âYâwanna stay like that, or yâwant me to change you?â
You groan into the pillow. âCanât move.â
He chuckles, low and fond. âAlright, alright. Letâs get you up, sweetheart.â
He slides an arm under your belly, the other under your chest, and lifts you slowâcareful not to jostle you too much. You wince, legs trembling as you shift upright, and then you see it.
The sheets.
Blood and come smeared across the fabric in thick, dark streaks. A mess. Your mess.
You gasp, eyes going wide. âJoelâyour sheetsââ
But heâs already shaking his head, brushing a kiss to your temple.
âDonât you worry âbout that. Sheets can be washed. You? Youâre what matters.â
You blink at him, still dazed, still flushed, and he smiles, soft and crooked.
âCâmon. Letâs get you cleaned up proper.â
He helps you to your feet, one hand steady at your waist, the other grabbing a clean towel. The van rocks gently as you both move, and he groans again.
âGoddamn suspensionâs worse than my knees.â
You laugh, leaning into him as he guides you to the little bathroom, and he mutters something about âgonna need a chiropractor and a cigaretteâ under his breath.
Btw guys, i finally have an Ao3 acc. Iâm trying to post all my fics also there but i canât promise anything because iâm struggling to understand that damn website lmaođ but if you like to check it out here is the link!
I hope yall enjoyed sleazy!joel hehe and again, happy new year everyone! I hope you all started safely and happy and i hope this year will be just a little bit better! đ«¶đ»
Taglist: @vickie5446 @thatgirlmendo @ihearttdilfs @pickyeater13 @sweetiegirl16 @afyreinjuly @shivispunk @kyloispunk @marisemonteiroo @meetmeatyourworst @joelmillerswife9 @iveseenstrangerthings50 @idrkman @blueberryfruittart @vanishintoyoubby @dlwrish @brittmb115 @xcallmetaniax @umadirectioner @millersweetheart @wildthyng @armandispunk @chick66i @bratty-spicee @am1a-niigo @hopelessromantic727 @styleslfreak @psclcain @susieqorion24 @rxsemarinusx @jandtmillersgirl @fertilise-me @mitskilover88 @lostboys1987girl l @begginforthread @pinkangelglitterdusttt @facethepascal @ddiana111 @twilightblogss @cheeseizts @pedrosgirl03 @swimmingnightcolor @gabfromgreedycity @bartzabel4 @blueflowerstranger @easybbgrl @Madnessofadaydreamer @Sadie6sinks6slut @hopelessromantic727 @miramindlesslywriting
Divider by @bhavihelps
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*writing from grave*
Joel leans in, his belly heavy on your back. âCan feel your little womb flinchinâ around me,â he mutters, filthy and reverent all at once. âLike itâs begginâ me to stay.â You moan, overwhelmed, and he grinds in againâslow, relentless, like heâs trying to brand the shape of himself into you. âYouâre shakinâ like a leaf, baby.â He coos. Overstimmed, overstuffed, and still takinâ it. Thatâs my girl. Thatâs what I like.â
this was so goood omg, I need a sec
LMAO love ur reactions!!! Thank you soo much baeđ«¶đ»
she just wants to watch you stroke yourself to her.
maybe even hear her name as you cum on camera for her.
daddy, iâm sorryÂ
Pairing:Â Old!daddy!joel miller x female!reader
Summary:Â Joel sits downstairs, reading by the stove, trying to pretend he doesnât hear the footsteps of his sonâs girlfriend. Trying to pretend he doesnât remember what the two of you have done and feel. But when you appear in the darkâbarefoot, wide-eyed, floaty-headed and call him Daddy like you still mean something by it, he knows youâre about to break the rules again.
Warnings:Â 18+, smut, fluff, slight angst, age gap! (60s and 20s), fingering, praise kink, slight mean!joel, daddy kink, ddlg undertones, subspace, infidelity, power imbalance, taboo relationship dynamics, needy!reader, no outbreak,
A/N: iâm not feeling very well lately. this is just an unfinished draft that I never finished, but I wrapped it up now to kinda ease myself back into writing. I also want to finally get to some requests that have been sitting in my inbox. Things might move a little slower for now, Iâm sorry about that! But i hope yall enjoy this one in the meantime: filthy, taboo nonsense that just hits right when youâre horny heheđ
The fire crackled low in the stove, its orange glow flickering across the old wooden floorboards. The room was dim, lit only by the firelight that danced around Joelâs chair. He sat still, legs stretched out, reading glasses perched low on his nose, the spine of a thick book resting in one hand.
Outside, the wind knocked against the windows, but inside it was warm and real quiet. The kind of quiet that settles into your bones and makes you forget the day.
Joel turns a page slowly, his eyes moving steady across the lines, but he wasnât really reading anymore. Not with the fire murmuring besides him. Not with the weight of the day finally easing off his shoulders.
And thenâ
a sound.
Soft and unmistakable. Footsteps.
He stilled.
The book lowered an inch. His jaw tightens just slightly. He didnât look up, not yet. Just listened. One step. Then another. A pause. Then the creak of the top stair.
Joel closed the book gently, thumb marking the page.
He didnât need to look to know it was you.
His eyes flicked towards your figure in the hallway, dressed in white like a ghost. The room was dark, but Joel could still make out the tremble of your lips, the flush blooming across your cheeks.
He doesnât want to know what you did upstairs with his son, he didnât even want to think of it.
And more than anything, he didnât want you coming to himâdisturbing the only ounce of peace he ever feels, that quiet hour when the house is asleep, and itâs just him, a book, and the soft crackle of the fire.
You slip into the room without a word, the hem of your dress brushing your thighs as you move gently to the couch besides him. He doesnât say anything. Just watches. Swallows. His jaw tightens. And you can already see his knuckles going white from gripping the book too hard.
With a quiet sigh, legs are drawn up as you settle besides him, eyes fixed on the way he turns the pageâhis hands broad and steady, the book looking small in his palm.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, thoughts wrapped in cotton. Everything feels soft, distantâlike the only thing keeping you tethered to the moment is Joel.
He clears his throat, making you look up to him.
âCanât sleep?â he asks, voice low and hoarse, the sound of it rumbling deep in your chest.
You shake your head. âNo, itâs too quiet up there.â
âYouâre not used to country,â he answers with a hum.
He was right. Staying at Joelâs farmhouseâjust because your boyfriend insisted that spending the holidays at his dadâs place would help you relaxâwas a mistake. Instead of peace, you were face to face with the very thing youâd been trying to avoid for years.
And now you canât keep it together anymore. Joel knows it.
He saw it already on your glassy eyes on the breakfast table. Or on the way you gently touched him when you tried to slip past him.
âDo you always read in the dark?â You ask.
âSometimes. When my eyes get used to it. Helps me wind down, you know?â
You nod, and you feel it in your chestâknowing that once, you knew everything about him. That he once told you everything. Every little quirk he had and has.
Silence stretches between you. Joelâs head dips, trying to make something of the words he is reading, but the only thing his mind allows is to hear your little breaths and your voice looping inside his mind.
He can feel you staring.
âYou should go back to bed.â He says, finally.
Your heart thuds in your chest. You tilt your head, eyes glassy looking at him.
âDoesnât feel right,â you murmur. âUp there. Without you.â
He shakes his head, jaw clenching, hands closing the book.
âWeâve talked about this.â
You nod.
âRemember?â
âI remember.â Your voice is just above a whisper.
âAnd?â His eyebrows go up, reading glasses moving with them. His voice makes your skin crawl; it makes you want to curl yourself further into the couch and disappear. You just needed him.
âI-iâm not trying to start anything.â A lie.
âBullshit.â His voice cuts through the warm atmosphere of the roomâsharp, hitting right into your heart. Your bottom lip wobbles as you look at him, breath picking up.
âLook at you.â His hand sways in your direction, eyes scanning you up and down. âYou look like a mess.â
âIâI donât mean to be.â Your voice is breathy, almost like a whimper. âI justâŠI donât feel right.â
Joel scoffs, his heart breaking a little tooâfrom being so mean. He doesnât want to be. But you two were never meant to be. What happened between you has to stay in the past, forgotten. That was the deal: to never talk about it again. To never seek each other out. To never ask for more.
âYou should go,â Joel says again, quieter this time. âAinât right, you sittinâ here like this.â
You donât move. Just look at him, eyes wide, voice barely above a whisper. âI donât wanna be alone.â
âThat ainât my problem.â You flinch. âYou have your boyfriend right upstairs, you donât need me.â
Silence falls again.
Neither of you move or say anything. Joel doesnât look at youâhis eyes are focused on the way the fire plays shadows on the walls and the way it lights up the place.
You, on the other handâŠare almost on the verge of crying. Not because of sadness, but because youâre locked in a headspace that wonât let you think straight. One that just wants to be cradled, to be held, and to be told that everything is going to be okay.
And that should be from Joel.
Because your boyfriend doesnât get it. He doesnât understand your headspace, your needs. He doesnât listen, and when he does he misinterprets what you say.
Joel doesnât. He never did.
After a while Joel releases a big breath, and rubs his forehead.
And then he hears it:
âdaddy, iâm sorry.â
It lands like match on dry grass.
Joel freezes. That word hangs in the airâthick, trembling. He squeezes his eyes shut, his mind already drifting to the past, to when you laid underneath him and called him that word like he was your anchor.
When he opens his eyes again, theyâre darker. But theyâre not angry. Not anymore. Theyâre wrecked. He knows he has been fighting this way too long, and he knows that a single word can break him. And that happened now.
âJesus,â he mutters, just under his breath.
Your cheeks flush, embarrassment runs through your body.
He drags a hand down his face, then looks at youâreally looks. At the way youâre still curled in on yourself, flushed and trembling, eyes wide, lips swollen, wet and waiting for something.
âYou donât even know what youâre doinâ to me,â breathes out.
But heâs already moving. The book slides from his lap to the floor with a soft thud. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and opens his arms.
âCâmere,â he says, voice gentler now. âCome here.â
You move fast. You climb into his lap like youâve done it a hundred times beforeâknees on either side of his thighs, arms already reaching to curl around his neck, face nuzzling toward the warm space beneath his jaw.
But his hand comes up, firm against your shoulder.
âHey.â
You pause, blinking up at him, dazed and soft. Sou try again, leaning in, seeking the comfort of his chest, but his voice sharpens.
âHeyâŠhey. Hey.â He catches your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up to his. His eyes focused on your lips.
âYou know we canât keep doinâ this,â he starts, voice low. âWe said last time was the last time.â
You whimper, barely a sound, but itâs enough to make his grip falter for a second. His thumb brushes your cheek, gentler now.
âLast time,â he says again, quieter. âYou hear me?â
You nod, slow.
âPromise?â he asks.
You nod again, eager. But he doesnât let go.
âNo,â he says, firmer. âWords.â
âPromise.â
He watches you for a beat longer, then exhales through his nose. His hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you in.
âGood girl.â
And just like that, you curl into him, breath soft against his neck, while he can feel how far youâve goneâhow quiet, how warm, how gone. Your bodyâs heavy in his lap, boneless, like youâre melting into him inch by inch. And Joel knows what that means.
His hand moves slowly over your back, steady and grounding, trying to soothe you.
âYouâre real quiet now,â he murmurs. âThat little motor of yours finally ran outta steam, huh?â
You donât answer. Just nuzzle closer, your lips brushing the side of his neck, barely there.
âYouâre deep in it, ainât you,â he mutters, more to himself than to you. âDidnât even see it happen.â
He shifts slightly, adjusting you in his lap, cradling you closer. His voice drops to a whisper.
âYou always do this to me,â he says. âCome in here all soft, all sweetâŠand I try so damn hard to be good.â
You let out a tiny soundâhalf sigh, half whimperâand it breaks something in him.
âShh,â he soothes, pressing his lips to your temple. âI know, baby. I know.â
His hand cups the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.
âYouâre safe,â he whispers. âDaddyâs got you.â
You feel soft in his lap, breath already hitching, hips starting to shift just enough to make him feel it. You need him.
Joelâs hand tightens on your hip, his jaw clenching like heâs trying to hold something back.
âYâare needy, arenât you, baby?â he murmurs, voice dropping low. âFigured.â
You nod, whimpering softly, and he exhales like it hurts.
âCan you tell me what you need?â he asks, brushing your hair back. âJust wanna make sure youâre still with me.â
âWant you,â you whisper. âPlease, Daddy.â
He closes his eyes for a beat, then nods. âYeah. You want Daddy to help you come back down.â
His hand slides lower, slow and steady.
âSâokay,â he murmurs. âI got you.â
And just as he shifts you in his lap, his mouth close to your ear, you hear itâbarely a breath, like he didnât mean to say it out loud: âThis the last time.â
But his hands donât stop.
âYâstay real quiet, yeah? Donât want him hearinâ that his dadâs takinâ care of his girlfriend better.â
Itâs not a threat. It never is. Itâs resentment, but not at youâgod, never at you. Itâs at the boy, his own son, who gets to have you in the daylight, while Joel only gets the dark.
He presses his forehead to yours, breathing hard while looking into your hazy eyes. You whine again, signalling that youâre ready. Ready for him to take you. He chuckles under his breath in response.
So, Joels hand slides down, slow and warm, slipping beneath the hem of your dress, then lower. He cups you over your panties, real gentle, but firmâand lets out a quiet breath when he feels the dampness.
âMessy girl.â he coos.
You whimper, hips pressing desperately into his palm.
âShh,â he soothes, lips brushing your temple. âI know. Daddyâs here.â
He quickly hooks a finger around the edge of your panties, tugging them aside with care, while your head rests on his chestâbreathing in his wooden scent. His fingers find you, slick, soft, sticky and he strokes through the wetness, slow and teasing. His fingertip brushes over your clit gently, and you gasp.
âJust like that,â he whispers. âLet me feel you.â
After letting you settle, he eases one finger insideâonly one, because he knows you need time to adjust in this headspace. His finger settles into your cunt, and you breathe out, clinging to him, as he holds you tighter.
âThere you go,â he murmurs. âNice and easy.â
He waits for yuou, lets you adjust, then begins to moveâgentle, curling thrusts, deep and slow, while his other hand cradles your back.
You were already feeling sensitiveâlike your body knew Joel was near, like your cunt could sense the weight of his big, steady hands cradling you. And you were always extra needy when you started to float.
He shifts just enough to see your face, brushing your hair back with the hand not inside you. Your eyes are half-lidded, lips parted, cheeks flushed. You look dazed, dreamy, like youâre floating somewhere only he can reach.
Joel swears under his breath. âLook at you,â he murmurs. âAll gone, huh?â
You hum, barely even able to nod, and he smiles: absolutely wrecked by how beautiful you are like this.
His fingers keep moving, slow and sure, coaxing you through it, fingertip curling into that one spot that only Joel can reach. He leans in, presses his forehead to yours.
âYou stay with me, babygirl. Donât drift too far.â
You move softly in his lap, breath hitching, but hips shifting just a little more desperatelyâlike youâre chasing something just out of reach.
Joel notices. Of course he does.
âStill restless, huh?â he murmurs, voice still against your ear. âOne ainât enough for you, baby?â
You shake your head, your body answering before your mouth can.
He smiles knowing. âSâokay,â he whispers. âI got you.â
He eases his hand back, just enough to press a second finger to your entrance. He waitsâfeels the way your body flutters, how you cling to him tighter.
âBreathe for me,â he whispers. âLet me in.â
And when you doâwhen he slides that second finger in, slow and carefulâyou sigh, your cunt fluttering around him. The stretch is deeper, fuller, and your whole body melts around him.
âThere she is,â he murmurs. âThatâs what you needed, huh?â
Joel starts with his thrusts again. Slow, deep and grinding. Every thrust now pressing into you more fully, brushing against that sweet, aching spot inside you. You can already feel the stickiness between your thighs, the way your slick clings to him, to you, to everything. Itâs warm, messy, perfect.
âDaddyâŠâ you sigh, burying your face into his chest.
âYea? Like that?â He asks, placing a kiss on your temple. âDaddyâs filling you up nice and slow?â
You nod your head softly, coming closer to his chin, pressing a peck on his lips and then a faint one on his stubbles.
The chair under you two groans as your hips shift, chasing the rhythm of his hand. Youâre trying to stay quiet, but every slow thrust makes you tremble, makes you cling to him tighter.
His fingers continue to move slow and deep inside you, while the room is quiet, so quiet that you can hear it. That soft, wet sound each time he thrusts in. Itâs intimate.
A slick little whisper between your thighs, hidden in the space where your bodies meet.
He presses in deeper, and the squelch is louder nowâsquelching, needy. You feel it in your belly, on your skin.
The slick sounds between you grow wetter, messier, and your breath comes in soft, broken gasps. Joel feels itâthe way youâre clenching tighter, the way your bodyâs starting to shake.
âYouâre close, yea?â he murmurs, voice thick with warmth. âI can feel it, baby.â
You canât answer. You just whimper, pressing your face into his neck, trying to hold on.
And then you feel itâhis thumb, warm and steady, sliding down to circle your clit. Gentle at first, just enough to make you gasp.
âThere we go. So puffy for daddy, arenât you?â he whispers. âLet Daddy help you.â
His fingers keep moving inside you, while his thumb works soft, perfect circles over that aching spot. The rhythm is steady and grounding.
âThatâs it, babygirl. Just come for me. Iâve got you.â
His fingers find that tender spot inside you againâjust as his thumb circles your clit just right, and his voice drops low in your ear. âYes, thatâs it, baby. Iâve got you.â
And then you do.
Your whole body tenses, then breaks. You cry out, soft and wrecked and he holds you tighter as your release rushes through you. He feels it immediatelyâthe way your walls flutter around his fingers, the way your slick gushes over his hand, warm, wet and so desperate.
It runs down his fingers, over his knuckles, dripping onto his wrist and soaking into the fabric of his jeans. But he doesnât care. He loves it.
âThatâs my girl,â he whispers, kissing your temple. âLet it all out. Iâve got you.â
He doesnât pull away. He keeps his fingers inside you, gentle now, nestled deep, cradling the soft, fluttering squeeze of your walls as you come down. The chair creaks beneath you, the room still thick with heat and breath and the soft, wet sounds of your release.
âYouâre making such a big mess, baby girlâŠâ he murmurs. âDaddy has to clean ya up, hm?â
His other hand strokes your back, grounding you, while his lips press soft kisses to your temple.
âStill flutterinâ,â he whispers, almost in awe. âSo sweet. So soft.â
You whine, your body coming down from your releaseâstill overwhelmed, and he hushes you gently.
âI know, baby. I know. You gave me everything, didnât you?â
He stays there with you, fingers still inside, until your breathing evens out and your body stops trembling. Even then, he doesnât pull away. He just holds you, full and warm and safe in his arms.
âYouâre okay,â he says softly.
You hum, content. His scent is everywhereâsmoke, leather, wood. You feel like you could stay here forever.
âYou feel better, babygirl?â he asks sweetly.
You nod, slow and lazy. âMhm. Thank you, Daddy.â
Youâre curl into his lap, limp and trembling, your cheek pressed to his chest. His fingers slip from you now, but his arms donât move. One hand strokes your back in slow, grounding circles. The other rests on your thigh, warm and steady.
The chair creaks softly beneath you both again, but neither of you moves. Youâre still slick between your legs, the mess of your release soaking into his jeans, but he doesnât care. He just presses a kiss to your hairlineâgentle, lingering.
âYou were so good,â he says softly. âSo damn sweet.â
Thereâs a pause. Like he wants to say more. Like thereâs something sitting heavy in his chest. But instead, he just holds you tighter.
âLetâs just stay like this a while.â
âJust let me have this,â he says, barely audible. âJust for a little longer.â
And you do. Because right now, in this hush, in his armsâyouâre exactly where youâre meant to be.
Okey iâm gonna be honestâŠi donât like thisđ«© but i also missed writing for daddy Joel soooâŠI hope you guys enjoyed it! Also this is not proofread𫣠please letâs just ignore all the mistakes and things that donât make sense
Now iâm gonna concentrate on some requests, and then iâll probably post ex hitman!joel! He is miserable, bleeding but still soft for her <3
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Treat her like a princess; tell her she's a good girl while you're fucking her ass.
I love tumblr bc it feels like im talking to a wall and sometimes the wall responds
I want to be treated like a princess and fucked like a filthy little slut.


