| joel miller's baby ♡ | sucker for horror | acrylic markers obsessed |pigeons & goats supremacy | lana del rey devotee | marvel girly | resident evil + silent hill 2 my beloved | fleabag coded | southern gothic heart, cozy soul | dilfs + salt 'n pepper lover | make up addict | lilies lover | cinema enjoyer | vanilla smell | taste of bitter coffee |
What I write:
• mostly joel miller in all his ruin (TV) • sometimes tommy miller or jack abbott • no other pedro characters • adult, heavy, explicit, icky themes • daddy kink, power dynamics, age gaps, fluff and cozy smut • occasional angst and heartbreak • be aware of the warnings
Requests:
I truly love seeing your ideas, they always brighten my day. But my writing is very mood‑based and a little chaotic, so I can't promise I'll get to every request. Some things spark inspiration instantly, and others just don't, and that’s okay. If your request doesn't get written, please don't feel sad or ignored—it's never ever personal<3
*when my requests are closed, anything sent in will be deleted.
DNI:
• minors • anti-fanfiction • bigots • people who can't separate fiction from reality • anyone who can't behave in my inbox.
thank you for being here ♡ I hope you feel safe and cozy in my little corner.
Hello babes, sorry if this is a dumb question 😭 but like what does the word smut stands for like, i know but i don't know.
I THINK—it's just a slang term (?) to refer to fictional stories that include sexual or explicit content. Not gonna lie, I never thought about it either, but I feel like it kind of got adopted over time in fandom spaces as this "content‑warning slang," rather than saying it's explicit or sexual. It just basically means: "wohoo here is sex in this piece" -but someone can correct me if i'm wrong.
Not a request!! I just wanted to say, I usually read and don’t leave a comment, but I just read “Be my baby” and I HAD to leave a thank you. That was a really nice thing to read. Especially in the morning with nothing else to do today. Please, never stop writing!!
:):):):)
baeee this is so precious omg 🥺 thank you for taking the time to send this!! i'm really happy Be my baby gave you a nice start to your day. messages like yours make writing feel so worth it 🩷
hi, this is the first time i'm writing to somebody so i'm a bit nervous hahaha, but i just want to say i really enjoy your work, your writing and ideas are literally everything i've been searching for! also don't listen to the haters who can't separate fiction from reality. keep going, you're amazing! 🥰💖💋
babe this is so sweet omg🥹 thank you for taking the time to write this, it genuinely means a lot to me. i'm really happy you enjoy my work...messages like yours really make my day🩷🩷 love ya😘
baes please keep in mind to check my bio before sending any requests. from now on, if I receive requests while they're closed, they will be deleted. I truly love your ideas, but I really need this boundary to be respected🥲
HEEEY! i love your work really. I got back to read fanfics after a long while and i discovered your profile and loved it! 💖
Do you think you'd write something about Joel's spending a calm and quiet time in the bar after a tiring long shift at the construction site, nursing his glass until came reader? I'm not big fan of big age gaps, normally I'm into reader being at her 30s for much younger.
And she flirts with him, charms and bating lashes at the old man that seems like forgot how to act around women that likes him openly.
And maybe then she get away with herself by ended up riding him in his truck?
Take your time! I love youuuu bye.
hi love! thank you so much for your sweet message, it means a lot. my requests are currently closed, so I can't take this one right now. feel free to send it again when they're open and thank you for understanding 🩷
Okay bear with me.. what about Joel is readers boss (I was thinking movie theater but anywhere works) and you have like leftover concessions or something so your coworker convinces you to leave it on his desk with a heart drawn on it. He calls you in the next day to “reprimand you” and he basically tricks you into sharing your feelings for him. Then you have “extra closing duties” with him so you can keep your job.
hi love, my requests are currently closed, so I can't take this one right now. feel free to send it again when they're open! thank you for understanding🩷
If it’s not too much to ask, could you write a story where the reader openly pursues Jackson Joel, but he turns her down due to the significant age gap. One day, the reader feels jealous when another woman starts hitting on Joel—and he doesn't turn her down cus he wanted the reader to stop pursuing him. The reader immediately confronts that woman, but Joel says something that deeply hurts her feelings. Finally, when the reader decides to walk away, Joel realizes his true feelings.
hi love, my requests are currently closed, so I can't take this one right now. feel free to send it again when they're open! thank you for understanding🩷
Could you make one where reader is Joel's neighbohor and she is kind of obssessed with him and a brat, then she shows up as Sarah's friend just to make him mad on porpuse and one day he just loses it? With age gap and spank1ng ofc 🦢
Be my Baby
Warnings: 18+, Smut, MDNI, huge age gap (20s and 50s) mean!joel, teasing, bratty!reader, spanking, pinv, unprotected sex, finger sucking, rough sex, degradation, daddy kink, cumming in mouth, no outbreak/alternate universe
A/N: im so sorry for the long wait anon!! I absolutely love this idea, it has the perfect Ldr vibe which is why i chose that title hehe. I hope you enjoy this anon, and my pookies too <333
You'd been scheming for weeks.
Every time you saw him out front—sweaty from working on his old truck, grey shirt clinging to his broad chest, salt-pepper stubble darkening on his jaw, those big hands handling things so easily—you felt that oh so familiar coil of heat low in your belly.
Joel Miller was fifty-something, weathered and worn, with a mean streak you could practically taste.
And you wanted him like a god damn fever.
The problem only was...he saw you as Sarah's friend. Just a kid. Basically, a bratty little nuisance who kept showing up at his front door, disturbing his peace with nonsense excuses; borrowing sugar, asking about Sarah, "accidentally" breaking something in your house and needing a big, strong man to help you.
Hell, Joel was old—but not stupid. Even before you were born, he'd already been playing these games. He knew every tactic, every move that he used to flirt with the older women in his neighbourhood.
The only difference was: Joel had been a teenager back then. You were a grown ass adult who bend over whenever you could, batted those eyelashes at him and called him "Mr. Miller" in that voice he didn't like.
You should know better.
But unfortunately, you just loved watching his jaw tighten, those dark eyes narrowing, fists clenching.
And when nothing worked...you upped the stakes.
"You're letting her stay for dinner again?" Joel's voice rumbled from the kitchen as Sarah let you in, his tone flat and unimpressed.
Sarah just laughed, thinking he is just joking. "C'mon, Dad. She's already here. Set another plate."
You stepped inside, the screen door clicking shut behind you.
The kitchen already smelled like the garlic pasta Joel always made for dinner. He didn't look at you right away—just kept stirring, like your presence was a mild inconvenience he had to tolerate. And if he was being honest, it was an inconvenience.
Not only was he trying to keep his composure because of his daughter, he was also fighting to keep himself in check—to stop his frustration from boiling over.
You slid innocently into the chair besides Sarah, knees tucked under the wooden table. Joel, after he was done with serving pasta, sat in front of you.
But the second your ass hit the seat, you kicked your sandals off and stretched your bare foot forwards. Your toes brushed the inside of Joel's calf, light as a feather.
He went still for half a second, the spoon pausing mid-air.
"Soooo...how was work, Mr. Miller?" you asked sweetly, voice all honey and innocence while your foot slid higher, tracing the line of his jeans up towards his thigh.
Joel cleared his throat. "Fine."
Sarah was busy on her phone, texting someone. So, you pressed the ball of your foot right against that growing bulge in his pants, rubbing slow circles.
Joel's knuckles went white around the spoon handle. His jaw flexed once, twice.
"You always look so tired after work," you continued, batting your lashes. "Would be nice having someone cook for you sometimes."
Your toes curled, pressing firmer. You felt him twitch under your touch, getting harder despite himself.
"Sarah, bring me some salt, c'mon." Joel said, voice tighter than before.
Sarah hummed and stood up, phone in her hand and walking towards the cabinets. The moment her back was fully to you both, you dragged your foot up and down the length of him. Joel's breath hitched. His free hand dropped under the table and clamped around your ankle, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.
"Behave," he mouthed at you, eyes dark and warning.
You just smiled, all teeth and trouble, and wiggled your toes against his palm.
Dinner was an absolute torture for him but a complete heaven for sweet you.
Every time Sarah looked down at her plate, your foot found its way back between his legs. Joel ate in silence, his thigh kept flexing under your touch. Once, when Sarah got up for a drink, you leaned forwards and whispered across the table, "You're so tense, Mr. Miller. Want me to rub your shoulders after?"
He didn't answer. Just stared at you with that mean, heavy look that made your stomach flip.
Sarah came back and sat down, oblivious. "Hey, you should come over tomorrow too. Dad's making his famous chili. Right, Dad?"
Joel grunted. "Sarah—"
"Please?" she pressed. "It'll be fun."
You grinned, pressing your foot hard against him one last time before pulling back. "I'd love to. What time?"
"Six," Sarah said cheerfully. "Don't be late."
Joel didn't say anything else for the rest of the meal. But his eyes stayed on you.
-
The next day you showed up not at six. But at noon.
You knocked twice, then smoothed your little sundress down over your thighs, feeling yourself.
Joel opened the door in jeans and a blue flannel shirt, hair damp from a shower. He looked you up and down once, twice, then his expression hardened.
"Sarah ain't here yet," he said.
"She told me to come early," you lied, stepping past him before he could block you. "Said to wait inside."
"Bullshit." Joel shut the door harder than necessary. The lock clicked. "She said six."
You wandered into the living room, running your fingers along the back of the couch. "Maybe she changed her mind."
Joel followed, arms crossed over his chest. "You think I don't know what you're doin'? Showin' up here in that little dress, lyin' to my face."
You turned to face him, head tilted. "I'm not lying, Mr. Miller."
"Don't call me that." His voice dropped lower.
You took a step closer. "Why not? You like it when I say it all sweet like that. Makes your jaw do that thing."
Joel exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled. "Listen here, girl. I know exactly what game you're playin'. Been seein' it for weeks. Bending over in front of my truck. Callin' me Mr. Miller in that voice. Touchin' me under the table while my fuckin' daughter sits right there. Ya think I'm stupid?"
You smiled. "I think you're just grumpy. And I think you like it when I'm a little bratty."
"Watch your mouth." He took another step. The air between you crackled. "You don't know what you're messin' with."
"Maybe I do." You reached out and traced one finger down the center of his chest. "Maybe I want the grumpy old man to teach me a lesson."
Joel's hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, yanking you forwards until your chest bumped his. "You got no idea what you're askin' for."
"Then show me," you whispered.
Oh, and he didn't hesitate at all.
One second you were standing, the next he was dragging you towards his couch. He sat down and pulled you across his lap in one rough motion. Your dress rode up, ass bare and exposed.
Joel's palm came down on your ass without any warning, making your skin ache.
"Fuck—" you gasp.
"That's for lyin'," he growled, hand coming down again on the other cheek. "And that's for showin' up here like a little slut in heat."
You whimpered, hips jerking. The sting bloomed into heat that spread straight between your legs. Joel's other hand pressed between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned.
"You think you can just walk in here and bat those pretty eyes and get what you want?" Another spank, harder this time. "You been teasin' me for weeks, girl. Think I didn't notice every time you bent over? Every time you called me Mr. Miller like you wanted me to bend you over instead?"
"Joel—"
"Daddy," he corrected, voice rough. "When you're over my knee like this, you call me Daddy."
Your breath caught. "Daddy..."
"That's better." His hand rubbed over the heated skin, soothing for half a second before another sharp slap landed. "Good girl. Takin' it so pretty."
You whined, thighs pressing together. The praise mixed with the sting made your head spin.
Joel shifted you higher on his lap until your ass was perfectly presented. He spanked you again. Again and again.
"You been askin' for this. Walkin' around my house like you own the damn place"
"I'm sorry," you breathed, voice shaky.
"Nah you ain't." Another slap. "But you will be."
He kept going until your ass was hot and throbbing, until every breath came out as a little sob. Then his hand slid lower, fingers dragging through your slick folds. "Fuck. Soaked already. Knew you'd be like this. Knew you'd get all wet from Daddy spankin' your bratty little ass."
You moaned, pushing back against his hand. Joel circled your clit once, twice, then pulled away.
"Up," he ordered.
You scrambled off of his lap with shaky legs. Joel stood up too, unbuckling his belt with one hand while the other stayed fisted in your hair. He shoved his jeans down just enough, cock jumping free; thick, heavy, already leaking pre-cum at the tip.
"On the couch. Hands and knees."
You climbed up, dress bunched around your waist, ass still stinging. Joel knelt behind you, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks. He dragged the head of his cock through your folds, coating himself in your wetness.
"Look at you," he muttered. "Drippin' all over my couch. Such a needy little thing."
He pushed in slow, stretching you inch by slow, agonising inch until his hips were flush against your ass. You cried out, fingers digging into the cushions. Joel didn't give you any time to adjust.
He pulled back and slammed in again, setting a brutal pace from the start.
"Fuck—Daddy—"
"That's it," he growled, one hand wrapping around your throat from behind, pulling you up until your back arched. "Take it. Take every inch like the good girl I know you can be."
The couch creaked under you. Skin slapped against skin.
Joel's free hand came down on your ass again, right over the marks he'd already left. "Been thinkin' about this for weeks. Thinkin' about bendin' you over and fuckin' the attitude right outta you. You feel that? How deep I am?"
You could only moan, head lolling back against his shoulder. Joel's thrusts were punishing, each one punching a broken sound out of your throat. He leaned down, teeth grazing your ear.
"You wanted the mean old man, didn't you? Wanted Daddy to put you in your place. Well here it is, baby. This is what happens when you push too far."
His hand slid from your throat to your mouth, two fingers pushing past your lips. You sucked on them without thinking, tongue swirling. Joel groaned, hips stuttering for a second.
"Good girl. Suck on Daddy's fingers while he fucks you stupid. That's it."
He pulled his fingers free and reached down, rubbing tight circles over your clit. The combination of his cock pounding into you and his fingers working you had you shaking, thighs trembling.
"You gonna come for me?" he rasped. "Gonna come all over Daddy's cock like a good little girl?"
"Yes—yes, Daddy—please—"
"Then do it. Come for me. Now."
You shattered with a cry, walls clenching around him. Joel fucked you through it, pace never slowing, dragging every last tremor out of you. Only when you went limp did he pull out, flipping you onto your back.
He climbed over you, one knee on the couch, the other foot on the floor. His cock glistened with your slick. He stroked himself fast, eyes locked on your face.
"Open your mouth," he ordered.
You did. Joel came with a low groan, ropes of cum painting your tongue, your lips, your chin. Some landed on your dress. He didn't stop until he was empty, chest heaving.
"Fuck," he muttered, thumb swiping through the mess on your bottom lip. "Look at you. All marked up."
You licked your lips, tasting him. Joel watched with dark, satisfied eyes.
"Sarah's gonna be home in a few hours," he said, voice still rough. "You better clean yourself up before then. And next time you lie about what time she told you to come over...I'm bendin' you over the kitchen table instead."
You smiled, lazy and fucked-out. "Yes, Daddy."
Joel shook his head, but there was the ghost of a smirk on his lips. "Brat."
He leaned down and kissed you once, hard and claiming, before pulling away to tuck himself back into his jeans.
The heat is gone but I still haven't found the right flow to write…my adhd is making me bounce between ideas like crazy. One day I want to write this, the next I want to write something totally different. I'm figuring it out though...slowly...👩🏻🍳
Could you make one where reader is Joel's neighbohor and she is kind of obssessed with him and a brat, then she shows up as Sarah's friend just to make him mad on porpuse and one day he just loses it? With age gap and spank1ng ofc 🦢
Be my Baby
Warnings: 18+, Smut, MDNI, huge age gap (20s and 50s) mean!joel, teasing, bratty!reader, spanking, pinv, unprotected sex, finger sucking, rough sex, degradation, daddy kink, cumming in mouth, no outbreak/alternate universe
A/N: im so sorry for the long wait anon!! I absolutely love this idea, it has the perfect Ldr vibe which is why i chose that title hehe. I hope you enjoy this anon, and my pookies too <333
You'd been scheming for weeks.
Every time you saw him out front—sweaty from working on his old truck, grey shirt clinging to his broad chest, salt-pepper stubble darkening on his jaw, those big hands handling things so easily—you felt that oh so familiar coil of heat low in your belly.
Joel Miller was fifty-something, weathered and worn, with a mean streak you could practically taste.
And you wanted him like a god damn fever.
The problem only was...he saw you as Sarah's friend. Just a kid. Basically, a bratty little nuisance who kept showing up at his front door, disturbing his peace with nonsense excuses; borrowing sugar, asking about Sarah, "accidentally" breaking something in your house and needing a big, strong man to help you.
Hell, Joel was old—but not stupid. Even before you were born, he'd already been playing these games. He knew every tactic, every move that he used to flirt with the older women in his neighbourhood.
The only difference was: Joel had been a teenager back then. You were a grown ass adult who bend over whenever you could, batted those eyelashes at him and called him "Mr. Miller" in that voice he didn't like.
You should know better.
But unfortunately, you just loved watching his jaw tighten, those dark eyes narrowing, fists clenching.
And when nothing worked...you upped the stakes.
"You're letting her stay for dinner again?" Joel's voice rumbled from the kitchen as Sarah let you in, his tone flat and unimpressed.
Sarah just laughed, thinking he is just joking. "C'mon, Dad. She's already here. Set another plate."
You stepped inside, the screen door clicking shut behind you.
The kitchen already smelled like the garlic pasta Joel always made for dinner. He didn't look at you right away—just kept stirring, like your presence was a mild inconvenience he had to tolerate. And if he was being honest, it was an inconvenience.
Not only was he trying to keep his composure because of his daughter, he was also fighting to keep himself in check—to stop his frustration from boiling over.
You slid innocently into the chair besides Sarah, knees tucked under the wooden table. Joel, after he was done with serving pasta, sat in front of you.
But the second your ass hit the seat, you kicked your sandals off and stretched your bare foot forwards. Your toes brushed the inside of Joel's calf, light as a feather.
He went still for half a second, the spoon pausing mid-air.
"Soooo...how was work, Mr. Miller?" you asked sweetly, voice all honey and innocence while your foot slid higher, tracing the line of his jeans up towards his thigh.
Joel cleared his throat. "Fine."
Sarah was busy on her phone, texting someone. So, you pressed the ball of your foot right against that growing bulge in his pants, rubbing slow circles.
Joel's knuckles went white around the spoon handle. His jaw flexed once, twice.
"You always look so tired after work," you continued, batting your lashes. "Would be nice having someone cook for you sometimes."
Your toes curled, pressing firmer. You felt him twitch under your touch, getting harder despite himself.
"Sarah, bring me some salt, c'mon." Joel said, voice tighter than before.
Sarah hummed and stood up, phone in her hand and walking towards the cabinets. The moment her back was fully to you both, you dragged your foot up and down the length of him. Joel's breath hitched. His free hand dropped under the table and clamped around your ankle, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.
"Behave," he mouthed at you, eyes dark and warning.
You just smiled, all teeth and trouble, and wiggled your toes against his palm.
Dinner was an absolute torture for him but a complete heaven for sweet you.
Every time Sarah looked down at her plate, your foot found its way back between his legs. Joel ate in silence, his thigh kept flexing under your touch. Once, when Sarah got up for a drink, you leaned forwards and whispered across the table, "You're so tense, Mr. Miller. Want me to rub your shoulders after?"
He didn't answer. Just stared at you with that mean, heavy look that made your stomach flip.
Sarah came back and sat down, oblivious. "Hey, you should come over tomorrow too. Dad's making his famous chili. Right, Dad?"
Joel grunted. "Sarah—"
"Please?" she pressed. "It'll be fun."
You grinned, pressing your foot hard against him one last time before pulling back. "I'd love to. What time?"
"Six," Sarah said cheerfully. "Don't be late."
Joel didn't say anything else for the rest of the meal. But his eyes stayed on you.
-
The next day you showed up not at six. But at noon.
You knocked twice, then smoothed your little sundress down over your thighs, feeling yourself.
Joel opened the door in jeans and a blue flannel shirt, hair damp from a shower. He looked you up and down once, twice, then his expression hardened.
"Sarah ain't here yet," he said.
"She told me to come early," you lied, stepping past him before he could block you. "Said to wait inside."
"Bullshit." Joel shut the door harder than necessary. The lock clicked. "She said six."
You wandered into the living room, running your fingers along the back of the couch. "Maybe she changed her mind."
Joel followed, arms crossed over his chest. "You think I don't know what you're doin'? Showin' up here in that little dress, lyin' to my face."
You turned to face him, head tilted. "I'm not lying, Mr. Miller."
"Don't call me that." His voice dropped lower.
You took a step closer. "Why not? You like it when I say it all sweet like that. Makes your jaw do that thing."
Joel exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled. "Listen here, girl. I know exactly what game you're playin'. Been seein' it for weeks. Bending over in front of my truck. Callin' me Mr. Miller in that voice. Touchin' me under the table while my fuckin' daughter sits right there. Ya think I'm stupid?"
You smiled. "I think you're just grumpy. And I think you like it when I'm a little bratty."
"Watch your mouth." He took another step. The air between you crackled. "You don't know what you're messin' with."
"Maybe I do." You reached out and traced one finger down the center of his chest. "Maybe I want the grumpy old man to teach me a lesson."
Joel's hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, yanking you forwards until your chest bumped his. "You got no idea what you're askin' for."
"Then show me," you whispered.
Oh, and he didn't hesitate at all.
One second you were standing, the next he was dragging you towards his couch. He sat down and pulled you across his lap in one rough motion. Your dress rode up, ass bare and exposed.
Joel's palm came down on your ass without any warning, making your skin ache.
"Fuck—" you gasp.
"That's for lyin'," he growled, hand coming down again on the other cheek. "And that's for showin' up here like a little slut in heat."
You whimpered, hips jerking. The sting bloomed into heat that spread straight between your legs. Joel's other hand pressed between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned.
"You think you can just walk in here and bat those pretty eyes and get what you want?" Another spank, harder this time. "You been teasin' me for weeks, girl. Think I didn't notice every time you bent over? Every time you called me Mr. Miller like you wanted me to bend you over instead?"
"Joel—"
"Daddy," he corrected, voice rough. "When you're over my knee like this, you call me Daddy."
Your breath caught. "Daddy..."
"That's better." His hand rubbed over the heated skin, soothing for half a second before another sharp slap landed. "Good girl. Takin' it so pretty."
You whined, thighs pressing together. The praise mixed with the sting made your head spin.
Joel shifted you higher on his lap until your ass was perfectly presented. He spanked you again. Again and again.
"You been askin' for this. Walkin' around my house like you own the damn place"
"I'm sorry," you breathed, voice shaky.
"Nah you ain't." Another slap. "But you will be."
He kept going until your ass was hot and throbbing, until every breath came out as a little sob. Then his hand slid lower, fingers dragging through your slick folds. "Fuck. Soaked already. Knew you'd be like this. Knew you'd get all wet from Daddy spankin' your bratty little ass."
You moaned, pushing back against his hand. Joel circled your clit once, twice, then pulled away.
"Up," he ordered.
You scrambled off of his lap with shaky legs. Joel stood up too, unbuckling his belt with one hand while the other stayed fisted in your hair. He shoved his jeans down just enough, cock jumping free; thick, heavy, already leaking pre-cum at the tip.
"On the couch. Hands and knees."
You climbed up, dress bunched around your waist, ass still stinging. Joel knelt behind you, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks. He dragged the head of his cock through your folds, coating himself in your wetness.
"Look at you," he muttered. "Drippin' all over my couch. Such a needy little thing."
He pushed in slow, stretching you inch by slow, agonising inch until his hips were flush against your ass. You cried out, fingers digging into the cushions. Joel didn't give you any time to adjust.
He pulled back and slammed in again, setting a brutal pace from the start.
"Fuck—Daddy—"
"That's it," he growled, one hand wrapping around your throat from behind, pulling you up until your back arched. "Take it. Take every inch like the good girl I know you can be."
The couch creaked under you. Skin slapped against skin.
Joel's free hand came down on your ass again, right over the marks he'd already left. "Been thinkin' about this for weeks. Thinkin' about bendin' you over and fuckin' the attitude right outta you. You feel that? How deep I am?"
You could only moan, head lolling back against his shoulder. Joel's thrusts were punishing, each one punching a broken sound out of your throat. He leaned down, teeth grazing your ear.
"You wanted the mean old man, didn't you? Wanted Daddy to put you in your place. Well here it is, baby. This is what happens when you push too far."
His hand slid from your throat to your mouth, two fingers pushing past your lips. You sucked on them without thinking, tongue swirling. Joel groaned, hips stuttering for a second.
"Good girl. Suck on Daddy's fingers while he fucks you stupid. That's it."
He pulled his fingers free and reached down, rubbing tight circles over your clit. The combination of his cock pounding into you and his fingers working you had you shaking, thighs trembling.
"You gonna come for me?" he rasped. "Gonna come all over Daddy's cock like a good little girl?"
"Yes—yes, Daddy—please—"
"Then do it. Come for me. Now."
You shattered with a cry, walls clenching around him. Joel fucked you through it, pace never slowing, dragging every last tremor out of you. Only when you went limp did he pull out, flipping you onto your back.
He climbed over you, one knee on the couch, the other foot on the floor. His cock glistened with your slick. He stroked himself fast, eyes locked on your face.
"Open your mouth," he ordered.
You did. Joel came with a low groan, ropes of cum painting your tongue, your lips, your chin. Some landed on your dress. He didn't stop until he was empty, chest heaving.
"Fuck," he muttered, thumb swiping through the mess on your bottom lip. "Look at you. All marked up."
You licked your lips, tasting him. Joel watched with dark, satisfied eyes.
"Sarah's gonna be home in a few hours," he said, voice still rough. "You better clean yourself up before then. And next time you lie about what time she told you to come over...I'm bendin' you over the kitchen table instead."
You smiled, lazy and fucked-out. "Yes, Daddy."
Joel shook his head, but there was the ghost of a smirk on his lips. "Brat."
He leaned down and kissed you once, hard and claiming, before pulling away to tuck himself back into his jeans.
The heat is gone but I still haven't found the right flow to write…my adhd is making me bounce between ideas like crazy. One day I want to write this, the next I want to write something totally different. I'm figuring it out though...slowly...👩🏻🍳
Could you make one where reader is Joel's neighbohor and she is kind of obssessed with him and a brat, then she shows up as Sarah's friend just to make him mad on porpuse and one day he just loses it? With age gap and spank1ng ofc 🦢
Be my Baby
Warnings: 18+, Smut, MDNI, huge age gap (20s and 50s) mean!joel, teasing, bratty!reader, spanking, pinv, unprotected sex, finger sucking, rough sex, degradation, daddy kink, cumming in mouth, no outbreak/alternate universe
A/N: im so sorry for the long wait anon!! I absolutely love this idea, it has the perfect Ldr vibe which is why i chose that title hehe. I hope you enjoy this anon, and my pookies too <333
You'd been scheming for weeks.
Every time you saw him out front—sweaty from working on his old truck, grey shirt clinging to his broad chest, salt-pepper stubble darkening on his jaw, those big hands handling things so easily—you felt that oh so familiar coil of heat low in your belly.
Joel Miller was fifty-something, weathered and worn, with a mean streak you could practically taste.
And you wanted him like a god damn fever.
The problem only was...he saw you as Sarah's friend. Just a kid. Basically, a bratty little nuisance who kept showing up at his front door, disturbing his peace with nonsense excuses; borrowing sugar, asking about Sarah, "accidentally" breaking something in your house and needing a big, strong man to help you.
Hell, Joel was old—but not stupid. Even before you were born, he'd already been playing these games. He knew every tactic, every move that he used to flirt with the older women in his neighbourhood.
The only difference was: Joel had been a teenager back then. You were a grown ass adult who bend over whenever you could, batted those eyelashes at him and called him "Mr. Miller" in that voice he didn't like.
You should know better.
But unfortunately, you just loved watching his jaw tighten, those dark eyes narrowing, fists clenching.
And when nothing worked...you upped the stakes.
"You're letting her stay for dinner again?" Joel's voice rumbled from the kitchen as Sarah let you in, his tone flat and unimpressed.
Sarah just laughed, thinking he is just joking. "C'mon, Dad. She's already here. Set another plate."
You stepped inside, the screen door clicking shut behind you.
The kitchen already smelled like the garlic pasta Joel always made for dinner. He didn't look at you right away—just kept stirring, like your presence was a mild inconvenience he had to tolerate. And if he was being honest, it was an inconvenience.
Not only was he trying to keep his composure because of his daughter, he was also fighting to keep himself in check—to stop his frustration from boiling over.
You slid innocently into the chair besides Sarah, knees tucked under the wooden table. Joel, after he was done with serving pasta, sat in front of you.
But the second your ass hit the seat, you kicked your sandals off and stretched your bare foot forwards. Your toes brushed the inside of Joel's calf, light as a feather.
He went still for half a second, the spoon pausing mid-air.
"Soooo...how was work, Mr. Miller?" you asked sweetly, voice all honey and innocence while your foot slid higher, tracing the line of his jeans up towards his thigh.
Joel cleared his throat. "Fine."
Sarah was busy on her phone, texting someone. So, you pressed the ball of your foot right against that growing bulge in his pants, rubbing slow circles.
Joel's knuckles went white around the spoon handle. His jaw flexed once, twice.
"You always look so tired after work," you continued, batting your lashes. "Would be nice having someone cook for you sometimes."
Your toes curled, pressing firmer. You felt him twitch under your touch, getting harder despite himself.
"Sarah, bring me some salt, c'mon." Joel said, voice tighter than before.
Sarah hummed and stood up, phone in her hand and walking towards the cabinets. The moment her back was fully to you both, you dragged your foot up and down the length of him. Joel's breath hitched. His free hand dropped under the table and clamped around your ankle, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.
"Behave," he mouthed at you, eyes dark and warning.
You just smiled, all teeth and trouble, and wiggled your toes against his palm.
Dinner was an absolute torture for him but a complete heaven for sweet you.
Every time Sarah looked down at her plate, your foot found its way back between his legs. Joel ate in silence, his thigh kept flexing under your touch. Once, when Sarah got up for a drink, you leaned forwards and whispered across the table, "You're so tense, Mr. Miller. Want me to rub your shoulders after?"
He didn't answer. Just stared at you with that mean, heavy look that made your stomach flip.
Sarah came back and sat down, oblivious. "Hey, you should come over tomorrow too. Dad's making his famous chili. Right, Dad?"
Joel grunted. "Sarah—"
"Please?" she pressed. "It'll be fun."
You grinned, pressing your foot hard against him one last time before pulling back. "I'd love to. What time?"
"Six," Sarah said cheerfully. "Don't be late."
Joel didn't say anything else for the rest of the meal. But his eyes stayed on you.
-
The next day you showed up not at six. But at noon.
You knocked twice, then smoothed your little sundress down over your thighs, feeling yourself.
Joel opened the door in jeans and a blue flannel shirt, hair damp from a shower. He looked you up and down once, twice, then his expression hardened.
"Sarah ain't here yet," he said.
"She told me to come early," you lied, stepping past him before he could block you. "Said to wait inside."
"Bullshit." Joel shut the door harder than necessary. The lock clicked. "She said six."
You wandered into the living room, running your fingers along the back of the couch. "Maybe she changed her mind."
Joel followed, arms crossed over his chest. "You think I don't know what you're doin'? Showin' up here in that little dress, lyin' to my face."
You turned to face him, head tilted. "I'm not lying, Mr. Miller."
"Don't call me that." His voice dropped lower.
You took a step closer. "Why not? You like it when I say it all sweet like that. Makes your jaw do that thing."
Joel exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled. "Listen here, girl. I know exactly what game you're playin'. Been seein' it for weeks. Bending over in front of my truck. Callin' me Mr. Miller in that voice. Touchin' me under the table while my fuckin' daughter sits right there. Ya think I'm stupid?"
You smiled. "I think you're just grumpy. And I think you like it when I'm a little bratty."
"Watch your mouth." He took another step. The air between you crackled. "You don't know what you're messin' with."
"Maybe I do." You reached out and traced one finger down the center of his chest. "Maybe I want the grumpy old man to teach me a lesson."
Joel's hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, yanking you forwards until your chest bumped his. "You got no idea what you're askin' for."
"Then show me," you whispered.
Oh, and he didn't hesitate at all.
One second you were standing, the next he was dragging you towards his couch. He sat down and pulled you across his lap in one rough motion. Your dress rode up, ass bare and exposed.
Joel's palm came down on your ass without any warning, making your skin ache.
"Fuck—" you gasp.
"That's for lyin'," he growled, hand coming down again on the other cheek. "And that's for showin' up here like a little slut in heat."
You whimpered, hips jerking. The sting bloomed into heat that spread straight between your legs. Joel's other hand pressed between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned.
"You think you can just walk in here and bat those pretty eyes and get what you want?" Another spank, harder this time. "You been teasin' me for weeks, girl. Think I didn't notice every time you bent over? Every time you called me Mr. Miller like you wanted me to bend you over instead?"
"Joel—"
"Daddy," he corrected, voice rough. "When you're over my knee like this, you call me Daddy."
Your breath caught. "Daddy..."
"That's better." His hand rubbed over the heated skin, soothing for half a second before another sharp slap landed. "Good girl. Takin' it so pretty."
You whined, thighs pressing together. The praise mixed with the sting made your head spin.
Joel shifted you higher on his lap until your ass was perfectly presented. He spanked you again. Again and again.
"You been askin' for this. Walkin' around my house like you own the damn place"
"I'm sorry," you breathed, voice shaky.
"Nah you ain't." Another slap. "But you will be."
He kept going until your ass was hot and throbbing, until every breath came out as a little sob. Then his hand slid lower, fingers dragging through your slick folds. "Fuck. Soaked already. Knew you'd be like this. Knew you'd get all wet from Daddy spankin' your bratty little ass."
You moaned, pushing back against his hand. Joel circled your clit once, twice, then pulled away.
"Up," he ordered.
You scrambled off of his lap with shaky legs. Joel stood up too, unbuckling his belt with one hand while the other stayed fisted in your hair. He shoved his jeans down just enough, cock jumping free; thick, heavy, already leaking pre-cum at the tip.
"On the couch. Hands and knees."
You climbed up, dress bunched around your waist, ass still stinging. Joel knelt behind you, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks. He dragged the head of his cock through your folds, coating himself in your wetness.
"Look at you," he muttered. "Drippin' all over my couch. Such a needy little thing."
He pushed in slow, stretching you inch by slow, agonising inch until his hips were flush against your ass. You cried out, fingers digging into the cushions. Joel didn't give you any time to adjust.
He pulled back and slammed in again, setting a brutal pace from the start.
"Fuck—Daddy—"
"That's it," he growled, one hand wrapping around your throat from behind, pulling you up until your back arched. "Take it. Take every inch like the good girl I know you can be."
The couch creaked under you. Skin slapped against skin.
Joel's free hand came down on your ass again, right over the marks he'd already left. "Been thinkin' about this for weeks. Thinkin' about bendin' you over and fuckin' the attitude right outta you. You feel that? How deep I am?"
You could only moan, head lolling back against his shoulder. Joel's thrusts were punishing, each one punching a broken sound out of your throat. He leaned down, teeth grazing your ear.
"You wanted the mean old man, didn't you? Wanted Daddy to put you in your place. Well here it is, baby. This is what happens when you push too far."
His hand slid from your throat to your mouth, two fingers pushing past your lips. You sucked on them without thinking, tongue swirling. Joel groaned, hips stuttering for a second.
"Good girl. Suck on Daddy's fingers while he fucks you stupid. That's it."
He pulled his fingers free and reached down, rubbing tight circles over your clit. The combination of his cock pounding into you and his fingers working you had you shaking, thighs trembling.
"You gonna come for me?" he rasped. "Gonna come all over Daddy's cock like a good little girl?"
"Yes—yes, Daddy—please—"
"Then do it. Come for me. Now."
You shattered with a cry, walls clenching around him. Joel fucked you through it, pace never slowing, dragging every last tremor out of you. Only when you went limp did he pull out, flipping you onto your back.
He climbed over you, one knee on the couch, the other foot on the floor. His cock glistened with your slick. He stroked himself fast, eyes locked on your face.
"Open your mouth," he ordered.
You did. Joel came with a low groan, ropes of cum painting your tongue, your lips, your chin. Some landed on your dress. He didn't stop until he was empty, chest heaving.
"Fuck," he muttered, thumb swiping through the mess on your bottom lip. "Look at you. All marked up."
You licked your lips, tasting him. Joel watched with dark, satisfied eyes.
"Sarah's gonna be home in a few hours," he said, voice still rough. "You better clean yourself up before then. And next time you lie about what time she told you to come over...I'm bendin' you over the kitchen table instead."
You smiled, lazy and fucked-out. "Yes, Daddy."
Joel shook his head, but there was the ghost of a smirk on his lips. "Brat."
He leaned down and kissed you once, hard and claiming, before pulling away to tuck himself back into his jeans.
The heat is gone but I still haven't found the right flow to write…my adhd is making me bounce between ideas like crazy. One day I want to write this, the next I want to write something totally different. I'm figuring it out though...slowly...👩🏻🍳
