hi! you can call me mocha! i like reading and writing fanfic among other things :p my pookies are miguel ohara and joel miller + more!!
this is a MIXED INTEREST or MULTIFANDOM blog, meaning i post/reblog just about anything and everything. i like anime, video games, jfashion, spiderman and other marvel stuff ect.
i am an adult and will create/reblog
18+ content every which means NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!!!!
i like making friends so please dont hesitate to message me if were mutuals!!
fic masterlist below!!!
sweethearts and sweet dreams (joel miller x reader)
sins, two through four (javier peña x reader)
frost and leather chapter one (joel miller x reader)
Javi doesnt do good girls. Literally and figuratively.
Theyre nice, sure. Honeyed voices and beautiful eyes. But theyre just not for him. He prefers to stick with what he knows best. Messy, broken, women who are looking to distract themselves with him and his body. Sharp eyes topped with heavy eyeliner and eyeshadow. Women who know what to do with him.
Hes been soiled by the world, therefore belongs with others whove met the same fate. But, hes okay with that. (3.3k words)
tags!! 18+ javier peña x reader ! one shot! inoccent reader i guess?, no set era just vaguely somewhere in the late 80s early 90s :p, since its like entirely from his perspective hes only referred to as Javi and not javier sorry if that bothers u </3, corruption, religious allegories, steve and connie r there for five seconds, dubious I suppose cuz they be drinking, smut but its not like Good and its also there for about five second lolol.., p in v sex, blow jobs, rough sex, lots of depressing internal dialogue for javi Uhhhhhh, Sus thoughts abt causing harm to u I GUESS?? Toxic javi of course lol. kinda bad boy x good girl concept here but he wants to make u WORSE. mannn idk, some dom/sub dynamics if u squinttt
authors notes!! hi! Ok my first Javi fic LOOOOL been binging narcos and i had to take a break from my joel fic in the works to write this shit. I SPENT THE ENTIRE DAY PUMPING THIS OUT AHHHHH Beinf as that ive been working on it For One whole day it may not b my best work but i still had fun!! i kinda like the religious allegories Uhh IM NOT RELIGIOUS OR SCHOLARYLY OR ANYTHING so take whatever i reference with a grain of artsy salt.. enjoy!!!!
Javi doesnt do good girls. Literally and figuratively.
Theyre nice, sure. Honeyed voices and beautiful eyes. But theyre just not for him. He prefers to stick with what he knows best. Messy, broken, women who are looking to distract themselves with him and his body. Sharp eyes topped with heavy eyeliner and eyeshadow. Women who know what to do with him.
Hes been soiled by the world, therefore belongs with others whove met the same fate. But, hes okay with that.
That brings him to now, at this crowded bar with Steve, later Connie. And you, he guesses. Hes never met you but hes heard of you. Tonight youre tagging along so thats that.
Anyways, Steve is updating him on his daughter and something else about enrolling her in private school but New York City is wildly expensive. Javis caught the eye of a pretty brunette further away from the bar hes sitting at. Shes in a black miniskirt begging to get taken off.
“Stop eye-fuckin’ her, Im talkin’ to you.”
“Relax, Im listening.” Javi takes another drag from his cigarette, tapping away the ash into a tray.”Youre a hard worker, Im sure you can find a way to move up and earn a little more for Olivias private schooling.”
Steve sighs, nursing his beer as he thinks. “Maybe. Just dont wanna be away from her more than i have to be.”
“Mm.”
The brunette beckons him over, and Javi is already sliding off the stool to meet her. “Ill be r-”
“Steve!”
Connie is here, and so is her-
Friend?
Youre wearing a baby blue slip with sheer white tights and a thin, white cardigan. Youre pretty. Its only when you introduce yourself and he meets your eyes that hes sure. Youre good. And he doesnt do good. Youre not his type, Javi decides. Lame.
He moves down a seat so you can sit next to Connie whos also next to Steve, and you seem nervous. He gets the feeling you dont come out to places like this a lot. Its too.. Grungy. People smoke inside and get crazy drunk and dance. Probably not your speed. Youre easy to read.
Steve, “Remind me again how you know each other?”
“From work! Shes a nurse.” Connie smiles at Steve first, and then to you. A nurse, of course. Because youre good and its practically oozing off of you. Maybe hes wrong. He hopes hes wrong. Only because youre so pretty, with pretty pink blush and lipgloss.
You now, “I work in pediatrics.”
You work with children? Jesus christ.
You help people- help your community and take care of children. Javi had to watch children die, over and over, all too complicit each time it happens. No, youre not his type. Hes not into angels. Javi is far from holy and isnt about to desecrate you.
Then there's this feeling that starts to stir in his gut. An ugly feeling that wants to scratch through flesh and bone to get out. He takes the final drag of his cigarette before smushing it into the ashtray. Why do you bother him so much? Maybe its because upon your arrival that pretty brunette he was eyeing disappeared. A real shame.
But youre here, and your breasts are softly spilling over the neckline of your dress, and while the length is enough to cover your ass when youre standing, the way it looks while youre sitting is a whole different story. Youre good eye candy. Glass half full thinking.
He clears his throat. “How long-”
The bartender interrupts with a pearly smile. Hes asking if you want anything and hes obviously into you. Annoyingly so.
While youre ordering, Steve and Connie walk away to dance, and Connie stops by Javi, dipping her head to his ear. “Please, please dont fuck my friend.”
Ironic.
“Dont worry,” He leans his elbow on the counter, finishing the rest of his whiskey. “Shes not my type. Go have fun.”
You order three shots of vodka and apple juice. Its a little cute the way you hold your nose while you down each shot and chase it with some juice. Javis on his next glass of whiskey, watching how some of your drink rolls down your collar bone and into the valley of your breasts.
The sight of you is downright sinful. Its not fair.
“You need another shot or are you good now?”
Youre laughing, batting your hand dismissively. “No, No. Im good. I hate alcohol so I wanted to get this part over with and loosen up a little.”
“You dont have to drink it if you dont want to.”
“I like being drunk, just not drinking.”
“Fair enough.”
You fold your hands in your lap, and spin your seat side to side. “You were asking me something earlier?”
“How long have you been a nurse?”
“Three years now. I was working at a different hospital until recently. Thats how I met Connie.”
“Ah.”
“And you? What do you do?”
Javi lets the silence linger a bit. Fuck it. “Uh, CIA- but im retired now.”
“Oh- Yes! Right! Connie- She told me. Im sorry, you probably dont wanna talk about it.”
This is what makes his gums start itching. Most women- who are just as tragic as him- just bat their lashes and tell him its sexy he works for the government.
But you- Youre good. So you actually care about how hes feeling, and arent just trying to fuck him. Maybe that could change?- Ugh- No- no. Just no. Youll be ruined. Youd get dirty and thatd weigh him down like everything else does. Plus, Connie told him not to.
“Um. Have you done anything fun recently? Aside from all that?” Cute how you try to change the subject to spare his feelings.
Javi breaks open a new pack of cigarettes, slipping one out and putting it between his lips, then flicks his lighter on. Once, twice. A fifth time. No dice. The fucking thing ran out fluid.
“Fuck,” He grumbles.
“Ah! Hold on!”
An eyebrow is raised.
You dig through your purse, and pull out a disposable lighter. You thumb the sparkwheel a couple times to get the flame going.
“Do you mind?”
Javi hums no and leans forward. You do too, cupping your hand over the flame in case it goes out. It lights, and he gets a good drag in.
“Thank you.”
“Youre welcome.” And youre smiling again and Javi wants to shake you around and see where youre hiding your halo. Hes good at getting information out of people. He could get you to confess.
“Any reason you carry around a lighter?”
“Uhh. For medicinal purposes.”
“Cheeky.”
You spin in your chair once, all the way around then wobble when you stop. Javi shoots his arm out to grab yours and keep you steady.
“Careful.”
“Thanks.” A short breath. “Still think I need another shot?”
Javi smirks. “Oh, definitely.”
And youre ordering two shots. Bold.
“To answer your question, I havent done any fun things, no- Oh actually, you know what? I went to the art museum the other day.”
“The MET?”
“Mhm.”
“I went there a few months ago! Its beautiful isnt it? Do you have a favorite exhibit?”
“Probably European sculptures. The ones under the skylights were my favorite.”
“Yeah, those are beautiful.” You look off, dreamy.
Youre a childrens nurse, youre bad at drinking, you like art, and Javier feels sick just sitting next to you. Theres so much ugly out there, hes sure youre aware, and yet youre as bright as ever infront of him. Youd probably fit right in with The Triumph of the Church.
Theres only one word that can describe that ugly feeling swirling in him.
Envy. He wishes he could be as untouchable as you feel right now.
Theres a push and pull. He wants to taste your lips and roll up your dress and roughen you up, but he cant- he shouldnt. You dont deserve to get felt up by someone so unclean.
And yet,
Your beautiful smile, one that always reaches your eyes, and your precious laugh, and the way youve been nervously playing with your hands this entire time makes him want to break you. To rip those wings out and keep you from flying.
Javi really is devilish.
“Okay, shot time!” You push one of the glasses towards him.
“Im not taking a shot,” He takes another puff from the cigarette, then lets it rest on the ashtray.
“C’mon, Javier! Pleeeeeaaaase?”
“Javi.” He emphasizes.
“Okay.” You nod, “Javi, please?”
“Fine.”
Alright, alright. It didnt take much, but to be fair ‘please’ and ‘Javi’ just sound so good together when you say it.
Clink!
You count to three, and together you take the shot. Javi only grimaces at the taste and youre scrambling for the juice after letting go of your nose. Youre so damn messy about it too. Javi gets the bartender to get some napkins.
“I think I'm done,” You cough.
“I think youre done too.” He smiles, “Do you normally spill your drinks on yourself?”
You patiently hold still while Javi wipes down your mouth, then your chin, then your collarbone, careful to not get too close to your chest. He eyes the dainty necklace that carries your first name initial.
“Noooo, it all just happens so fast, you know? Oh! And thank you for cleaning me up.” Youre smacking your lips together, “Ah shit, my gloss.”
“Yeah, looks like you ate it all in the chaos.” He glances over at the four shot glasses, all stained.
You groan after digging through your purse. “Fuck, I left my compact at home.”
“Being a girl seems hard.”
“It is.” You sigh, albeit dramatic. “Ill be back.”
You slide off the stool and almost eat shit actually. At least Javi is there to catch you. Again. This might be a recurring theme tonight considering how many drinks you had. Must be a lightweight.
“Im sorry- Fuck, Im so sorry,” Youre laughing again, and it gets a laugh out of him too. Back on the stool you go.
“If you fall again Im not gonna catch you.”
“Thats okay, I wouldnt catch me either.”
Javi thinks for a moment, curious.
“I could, yknow, put the gloss on you. If you want.”
“Really? Youd do that?”
Your eyes are big and bright, lashes accentuated by your mascara. The way you look at him makes him feel oddly special. Its not sultry, or wanting. You have this natural allure to you. Angelic. That alone makes him want to touch you again. To yank you down from the clouds.
“Yeah, gimmie the gloss.”
You put it in his palm and lean towards him. Javi messes with the applicator, listening to the squish of product inside the tube. Seems easy enough.
Javi situates himself more comfortably in the chair, then holds your chin as he applies it. Youre well behaved the entire time, like he expected, except for the fact that you lost your balance again and gripped onto his thigh to keep you from falling. He clears his throat. There are blaring alarms in his head telling him to put distance between you both.
“Sorry.”
“Its alright. I dont mind.”
You swallow nervously. Any angel would be nervous if they were this close to an agent of hell. Get it? Agent?
Javi tucks away the fly aways first. The applicator swipes across your bottom lip, and hes squinting at the little sparkles in the gloss. Its a nice touch. His thumb rubs away any excess to keep it neat.
“Good job for not falling again.”
“I had some help.” And youre both grinning now.
“Mkay, all done.”
You smack your lips, nodding. “Thank you.”
This is the moment where Javi should let you go. He should excuse himself and find someone who isnt you, someone whos filthy just like him, and have them instead.
You tilt your head in his palm, letting him cradle your face.
But youre so pretty, and youre so sweet, and youre right there.
That feeling from earlier is bubbling up again, the need to ruin you. You might look prettier covered in bite marks and sweat, with your hair messed up and your recently applied gloss all gone. Again.
He shouldnt.
But then again, what are sinners even good for if not this? Converting others and carrying on the missions of the Devil himself, you know, the works. Fuck, its not like he wasnt doing it anyways. Shout out to the government.
Javi observes you, trying to make a decision. “Hey,”
“Hiii.”
“Can I take you home?”
Its was easy, and you were so well behaved about it too. You did a little nervous yapping on the way to his apartment but it was cute. He learned you had a pet cat, and he tells you about the dog he grew up with. You talk about the shitty weather recently and Javi tells you he got rained on and slipped going up the stairs. It settles your nerves. Good. His phone keeps ringing in the glove compartment, but he just tells you to ignore it. Steve no doubt.
He makes sure to hold your hand on the way up to his apartment, giving it a squeeze before he lets go to open the door.
Javi’s heart never usually pounds this hard bringing any woman to his place, and its downright sinnister how excited he is.
When the door closes, you both leave your shoes at the door.
“Want anything? I dont have any apple juice but I can give you orange juice? Water if you want that instead?”
“Orange juice sounds good.”
You begin to linger about his living room. Youre probably getting a feel for how impersonal it all is. Plain. His room is a bit more interesting, at least.
Javi hands you the glass and shucks off his leather jacket, draping it over one of the kitchen chairs.
The first time he kisses you, is while walking through to the entrance of his bedroom. One hand gripping your hip and the other cradling the back of your head. He swallows ever whimper, every sigh, every squeak until the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress. Javi pulls away, watching the string of spit snap and cling to your bottom lip.
“Are you good at following directions?”
“Yes-Yes. I am.” You choke out.
Now sat on the bed, “Great. On your knees then.”
Tonight, youre going to pray. Youre going to sing.
You hesitate to get down, but do it with no complaints. Javi stretches over to the bedside table, grabbing a spare pack of cigarettes and lighter.
Your eyes are on him, patiently waiting for another command.
He continues to smoke at a leisurely pace, petting your head and caressing the apples of your cheeks. Youre leaning into his hand affectionately again.
Youre hit with some of the excess smoke he breathes out, coughing a bit.
“Javi-”
“No more talking. Understand?”
A beat passes, and you nod again, only shuffling forward to rest your head on the inside of his thigh. Javi taps away the ash.
“Good girl.”
You stay down there for a little while, only squirming and wiggling to relieve the soreness settling into your knees. You dont talk, you dont whine, you dont go grabbing at him. You stay put because he didnt tell you to do anything else. Youre good. Angels are loyal to a fault.
When you do get a command, youre perking up like a dog. Cute. Javis telling you to take his cock out.
You go for it, and he tuts at you. “Do it slow.”
And so, youre doing it slowly now, pulling out the leather from under the buckle, opening it up and then popping open the button to his jeans. Your lips press into a thin line, looking up at him for reassurance.
“Go on.”
His zipper is pulled down at a snails pace, and your eyes widen at the lack of underwear. No surprise there. Javi sighs when you take him your hand.
He lets you feel him up curiously, your thumb wisping over his flushed tip, smearing along the white beads gathering there.
“Put it in your mouth.”
You stiffen, unsure. Javis reminded that youre good and you probably dont do this kind of thing a lot.
“Its not hard, nena. Promise. Want me to teach you?”
Youre nodding now, more eagerly.
“Start by kissing it.”
Tentatively, you kiss starting from the bottom up- That much you know how to do- So its a good start. He sighs out the last bit of smoke and stretches over to the bedside again to put out the cigarette.
After kissing, youre licking, and after licking, youre finally trying to swallow him. He groans, holding the back of your head and coaxing you to take more.
You gag, backing out to catch your breath then taking him in again.
“Jus’ like that- Fuck-”
And somehow the slight inexperience gives you the upperhand. You want to be good for him, and your clumsy hands are doing as much as they can to make up for your lack of deep-throating capabilities.
Its when you suck harshly on the head that he hunches forward with a gasp. “Yeah-Yes.”
You do it again, and again, and hes so fucking close now but he stops you. Not yet.
“You did good.” Javi reassures you. “Get up.”
You wobble up onto your feet and hes pulling you into a kiss, hands exploring you all over with urgency. He needs it now, to do what he wanted to do at the bar when he first started talking to you. He needs to drag you down with him.
Javi pulls your cardigan off, and then your dress, and as more layers of your clothing come off the more he cant wait. Youre moaning under his tongue, only squirming when he nips at the flesh of your torso, leaving a trail of blossoming bruises in his wake. He tells you to lay down and you follow accordingly.
Javi kisses up your stomach, and the junction between your neck and shoulder. You almost speak, almost. And it has his dick harder than he thought it could get. Youre still obeying. Fucking incredible.
He pulls your hips forward, making you whimper. A finger traces through your folds, and he practically gushes with pride just feeling what hes done to you so far. He hasnt even gotten to the best part.
“Talk to me,”
Youre babbling now, “K-Keep touching me- Dont stop. Please, Javi.” There it is again. ‘Please’ and ‘Javi’. He cant say no to someone whos been so reverent thus far.
He rewards you by tracing soft circles around your clit, watching the way your abdomen flexes at the pressure. The combination of nervousness and arousal has your thighs quaking around his forearm. You give in so easy.
Javi tells you to lay on your stomach, Then, hes pressing kisses up your spine to soothe you. To sedate you.
You practically crumble when his cock reaches all the way inside you. This is it. Hes going to rip those obnoxious fucking wings out of your back.
“Javi,” You wheeze, clawing at the sheets. His hand sits on the nape of your neck to keep you pinned down. Javi grunts, doubling forward over your back. Its almost like hes punishing your guts just because youre you.
He grabs your wrists instead, pulling them behind your back and anchoring himself with one hand. The other curls into your hair, yanking your head up from the pillow you covered in drool.
You sob, trembling when Javi buries himself to the hilt. Hes panting over your neck like a dog, licking and nipping there like one too.
“Thank you,” You sniffle, twisting your neck to get a glimpse of him. Your mascaras running down your face. Humble, even in the face of your own sacrilege.
Javi shushes you with a sloppy kiss. Hell only accept your thanks when hes finally run you dry.
Tonight is the night you fell from grace. All because of him.
they should really warn you ahead of time about how much of adult life hinges on being able to navigate other Ppls childhoods. Like lot of the time in order to complete a task or even just communicate effectively you need to get a sense of ‘wtf happened to this guy in high school’
summary: you're about to get your period and hesitant to freak because of it. joel does not gaf and needs to get freaky with his beautiful girl.
tags: 18+, smut, p no plot, established relationship, post-outbreak, jackson!joel, kind of not really period sex, thigh fucking, misuse of baby oil, reader is afab, use of "good girl," joel is a freak and he likes to freak you, humping i guess, cuteness at the end somewhat, yay for no babies.
a/n: drabble i wrote in under an hour because i really wanted to write a fic today but it's so hot that i'm dying and someone should kill me.
my masterlist - askbox
wc: 1.4k unedited no beta
“Are you sure? It might mess up the bedsheets,” you ask softly. Joel sighs and you feel it against your back, the puff of his chest pressing into you. He’s holding you from behind with his pajama pants rucked halfway down his legs. You lost your pajama shorts somewhere along the way, as well as your undies.
You’re days, or maybe even a day, away from getting your period, and you’ve been super clingy. Sometimes your cycle comes and goes without issue, the only symptom being the fact you’re bleeding. But other times, like now, you’re achey, emotional, and frustratingly aroused. All night you’ve been laying in different positions in an attempt to soothe the pain that’s braided itself into your spine, only to find the warmth of Joel’s chest soothes it best. Joel could care less about your grouchiness though, he’s just happy to hold you. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s about to get his dick wet (kind of.)
“Baby you ain’t even on it yet,” he reminds you quietly. You watch his hands as they pop open the ancient bottle of baby oil, pouring it into his palm. Joel’s leg nudges yours and you shyly open your legs clamshell style. His hand cups you first, careful not to slide his fingers too deep into your slit. You’re sensitive in many ways right now, he doesn’t want to upset you or overstimulate you.
“There you go. Just some oil, right? You wanna make me feel good?”
His voice is quiet as he talks, pulling his hand away so he can pour more oil into his palm. Now he lathers your inner thighs with it, all while he presses kisses into the back of your neck. “So soft,” he says to himself, squeezing the plush inner of your left thigh. Joel truly adores you. He runs his hand up, cupping your core again, and you feel his erection throb against your lower back where it’s pressed.
Breathing is tough as your chest shakes with need and anxiety. You’ve never done anything like this, not on your cycle, and so it feels… scary. Part of you wants to go “but what if you get blood on you?” But that’s never really been a problem for Joel, not as long as you’ve known him. It’s also probably a dumb question to ask when he’s already throbbing and half naked. Duh, he wants this.
“You with me?” He asks as he shifts down the bed. Part of you feels a little distant right now, fascinated by the fact he’s so willing to do this with you. Staying grounded is difficult when the most attractive guy you know is about to stick his dick between your thighs and rut into the softness there, but you manage. You keep your eyes trained on the window, taking soft breaths, and Joel waits until you can confidently answer.
“Mhm,” is what you manage. Your hand comes up and reaches for the one near your head, attached to the arm that’s snaked beneath your neck. He squeezes it reassuringly, then readjusts.
“Gonna use you nice,” is all you get to hear before his dick is shoved between your thighs. Joel’s pushing into the oiled softness with vigor, like he’s the one who’s sexually frustrated and unable to get fucked. You can see the head of his cock barely peek out with each thrust, watching as a sticky pearl of precome suddenly disappears as he plunges in and out. Joel is groaning, the arm wrapped around your torso grasping at anywhere but your tits, since he knows how sensitive they are right now. He keeps trying to talk but he can’t quite catch his breath. His face drops into the crook of your neck and you feel him breathing heavily out of his nose and onto your skin.
“Good girl, fuck,” he curses softly. The arm tucked beneath your head suddenly is yanked away as Joel uses it to prop himself up. This changes his angle signficantly, and instead of fucking into your thighs and just grazing your cunt, he’s fucking the head of his cock up into your slit. The tip awkwardly bashes your swollen clit at first and you whine in annoyance. He’s quick to catch on and eases his movements.
“Like that, Joel, that’s– mmh!” You cover your face with your hands. It’s so difficult to try and be sexy or dirty when you fear that you’re bleeding all over him. You know he’s going to pick up on it if you keep talking, so you just shut up.
“Yeah babygirl? Like this?” He asks, grinding his hips up. His tip feels like it’s making out with your clit now. The sensitive nerves are slathered in a mixture of your wetness, his precome, and the babyoil, and it’s making for a deliciously slick mess. Joel pumps at a quick pace, remaining mindful of your sensitivity, but his energy and words are almost rabid.
“Makin’ me crazy earlier, kissin’ on me in the kitchen and then makin’ me sit through dinner.”
Oh, maybe that’s why he’s being so ravenous.
“Thinkin’ that being near your period is gonna make me keep my hands off you.”
Blood rushes to the tips of your ears at that. It’s so easy to forget that Joel finds you sexy, not just beautiful. Here in bed it’s easy to remember. The way he’s desperately fucking his dick into your legs is more than enough proof that he is desperately attracted to you. Joel’s teeth press into your neck in slight hesitation, knowing he shouldn’t be too rough, but he lets them drag across your skin.
“So fuckin’ wet, I can tell that isn’t just the oil.” Your cunt clenches on nothing as he talks more. Joel is such a fucking talker, you wish he spoke this much outside of the bedroom sometimes. Maybe he’s just a pervert though and that’s why he’s so quiet.
Your mouth opens slightly and drool starts to leak out as he becomes more intentful with his thrusts. He’s purposefully grinding the head of his dick into your clit at the end of each thrust. You can feel the thickness of his dick rubbing down your sensitive slit each time he’s done grinding and it only holds you in anticipation. Surprised noises keep leaving you, as if you’re not aware of the insatiable man behind you. It feels so much different than the usual sex that you have with him, it feels like he wants to ravage you, take you apart.
“This take your mind off your back pain, baby? Just needed my dick?”
Your head nods weakly and you start to whine “yes,” repeatedly. It isn’t wrong, you have no clue if your back is hurting anymore, not when you’re right on the cusp of an orgasm.
Joel’s nose is tucked behind your ear now, ensuring that you hear all the filth he’s spewing. Everything is so wet now, even your ass is somehow wet. His hips snap into you relentlessly as he starts to ask if you’re close and you have no words to answer. You’re beginning to get so wet you can’t feel anything at all, but finally he pushes at just the right angle and the ridge of his tip drags over your clit, sending you over. You gasp desperately, grabbing at the pillow beside your head as your body seizes up, shivering. Your thighs clamp down hard around Joel’s cock, sending him over too. The first spurts of come spill out from between your thighs, but then he pulls back and shoves himself back against your slit. His dick throbs as it coats your cunt in hot come, and your clit throbs right back against his tip.
“Good, good girl,” Joel grunts as his arm collapses back into the bed. He lays back down on his side, careful not to move too much. There’s a lot of mess on the bed already, he doesn’t want to clean anymore than he’ll already have to.
“Your back still hurt?” He asks after a moment. Back to sweet and caring, as if he wasn’t just a totally dirty mouthed perv.
“No. Might need a shower though,” you tease. Joel huffs slightly, amused.
“Uh-huh. Me too.”
Joel pulls away from you very carefully, hissing as he grows soft and sensitive. You look over your shoulder cautiously, praying you don’t see red.
One thin line of red is smeared on his shaft. You look up at him apologetically right away, but he’s smiling.
“What? Are you laughing at me?” You ask worriedly. Your lungs feel small as you try to breathe away embarrassment.
“No,” Joel grins, “S’just that this is better’n you being pregnant.”
--- <3 ---
yayy thank u for reading. tagging some of my faves
@evolnoomym @pascalssbabyy @mochamadeleines @joeloverture
summary: you wanted this. have your cake and eat it too.
tags: 18+, not smut just nsfw, no outbreak au, use of alcohol, irresponsible drinking, dubious consent (bordering on dddne,) reader is referenced to as a girl, reader has a vagina, severe age gap (reader is twenty, joel is somewhere in his fifties,) dark-ish!joel, bad morals basically, neighbor!joel, maybe dbf!joel, this is very subjective, ooc joel and idgaf, regrettable PiV, use of pullout method, angst.
a/n: i call this joel awful!joel because he’s just a man in this fic. also you are not obligated to read this if it makes you uncomfortable. this fic is supposed to be uncomfortable.
(1.4k, not beta read)
Joel was only a passing face and a name in your journal before tonight.
You’ve had a crush on him for a little while now, you’re pretty sure any girl on your street does. He was Joel Miller, the handsome dad who anyone could depend on for a favor. Though he’d become more busy lately, you’ve been seeing him more often and the two of you have become friendlier. It isn’t like it’s weird, he’s talked to you in passing once or twice, but only really when your parents were around. They liked Joel and didn’t think of it twice when you said you were going to his place for dinner.
You knew it wouldn’t just be dinner. The moment you stepped into his house you were bent on getting what you wanted, what you fantasized about. Nothing would live up to what you thought he could give you, no one would be able to make you feel small the way he would. Your proof was non-existent, maybe fantastical and overimaginative, but you were willing to test it all.
Between the pages of your journal and in the folds of your brain lay your wishes to be chased by him, to seduce him and have him at your will. “I want to be like a tricky little rabbit that he can’t help but want to run after,” you had written mere nights ago. You would be so beautiful, maybe a giggly drunk, and he’d make love to you in a way that only a man would. Joel, in all his strength, would use his body to imprint you on his mattress and in the making of that, you’d imprint on his heart. He’d make your lackluster girlhood mean something, he’d make a woman out of you, yet not take advantage.
It would take some convincing. It would be worth it.
It doesn’t take long. (why didn’t it take long?)
The first thing Joel chases is the amount of shots you take. By the time the living room is painted in the shades of a summer sunset you’re both laughing at the sound of each other’s laughter and getting too close on the couch. More drinks lead to more touching, and then a kiss, and then you get what you want. Joel chases you up the stairs while your feet stumble, socked feet almost slipping on the shining hardwood in the dark. Laughter bounces louder in the hallway, so loud it vibrates the tiny glass panes in the framed pictures on the wall. Your hands fumble with the door handle when you reach his bedroom. He crowds behind you, heavy and warm with inebriation as he sloppily places his hand over your own and bursts into his bedroom.
Then his eyes chase you as you crawl backwards up his bed, rumpling his sheets. You don’t remember when your clothes came off, or who had taken them off, it wasn’t important. It’s happening, he wants you, and you’re getting what you wanted. Joel’s eyes trail from your hardening nipples down to your crotch, where your thighs are still pressed together. Here is where you begin to feel small. He seems so much bigger suddenly, and suddenly you are much too little. A shiver runs up your back, one that feels like tv static, and you try to convince yourself it isn’t fear as he crawls on top of you.
He feels like an arrow in you. Sharp, aching, and fractured pains pulse in your vaginal walls as he tries not to move, a futile attempt at being gentle. Your eyes are swimming with alcohol, the same drunkenness that makes his words slur as they fall from his sloppy lips. You didn’t think it would hurt like this, you were so sure you wanted it.
Then, just as that feeling fades, and he thinks it’s okay to move, it starts to feel bad. Really, really bad. You watch as he shoves himself into you, his movements messy since he’s so fucked up, and you start to really see all that’s wrong with what the two of you are doing. Joel is only supposed to be Joel. He is supposed to be that friendly neighbor, the one who helps you and your parents with groceries, who fixes the garage door when it breaks, and he’s supposed to call you “kiddo,” and “sweetie.” He’s supposed to do all these things because he’s a grown man. You can see that he’s grown into the wiry greys that have started to grow into his beard and in the hair just above his ears, you can see it in the way his hands are softening with age, the skin thinning, and you can feel it in how the bones of his hips creak against the flesh of your legs that are wrapped around him. You, a girl, are having sex with a grown man, one who should have known better, one that is now inside you.
This needs to be over, it needs to be over and soon. You don’t feel small, you feel tiny and scared, and you are only a girl. You are not meant to be chased by a man this old and you know that now, but it’s too late. It’s too late, isn’t it? Your belly hurts all of a sudden, the pounding beat against your cervix feeling like it’s about to make that alcohol come right back up. He’s sweating on top of you, exerting too much energy, and that’s somehow making you feel more nauseous. You’re so inebriated you can barely understand whose limbs are whose. He has made you feel small, but in a way that makes you want to cry for your mama. Desperately you want this to be over. You know you’re drying up, and fast, and if he doesn’t finish soon then that’s only going to make you hurt more.
“Where should I–” he grunts, clearly close.
As much as you want it to be over though, you want to tell him to come nowhere. Not inside you, and not on you, but what choice do you have? You’re already here, you wanted this.
“On me,” you decide, trying to ignore how tight your voice is. There aren’t any tears in your eyes, but there’s a burning weight behind them. When he pulls out of you, you shut your eyes and try to pretend the warm splatters that hit your skin are raindrops, just raindrops. Not Joel, you’re outside, and it’s raining, and you’re okay, and you didn’t make this mistake. It’s just raining.
You can still feel it on you even after he wipes your belly clean. The skin almost feels itchy, taut where the liquid had laid on you. Joel is laying beside you, still catching his breath, and he reaches out to touch your hip, his fingers brushing against your skin.
“Never thought we’d do somethin’ like this,” he jokes. Joel sounds more sober now. He’s more sober and he’s still lying there beside you, the two of you naked. Why is he still okay with this? Why does it seem like he wanted this all along?
“Did you think about it?” You ask. It’s a stupid question, one that will hurt you no matter what, but you already feel so betrayed. How could he give in to you? How could he let this happen? Isn’t he the adult here?
“Tried not to,” Joel says. That almost feels okay, but then he keeps talking. “Couldn’t help it sometimes.”
“Couldn’t help it.” Like you’re some irresistible thing, some off limits object. Bile stings the back of your throat but you swallow your vomit down. Maybe if you act okay with this then it will just end up being a funny story, a stupid mistake you both made. Maybe if you just pretend, then maybe you’ll be able to look him in the face again someday.
Earlier you felt the excitement of taboo, the rush of playing a game. You felt in control when he was chasing you, when you led him up the stairs. Of course you didn’t think you were being hunted, you started this game with this man who you didn’t think was bad. You thought you were in control, that he was prey in your trap, but prey don’t chase. Prey don’t chase.
Laying in his bed, nude, you are everything you thought you wanted to be. The fleeting dream of being his gutted rabbit, gently dissected, has become too real. You didn’t know what being gutted was until he was splitting you open, and though he was a kind man, you still bled. Small on the left side of the mattress, with your ears back and your cottontail between your legs, you wonder how long you will bleed for.
ahhh this is getting content labeled :(( I hope this shows up on some people's feeds !! in the meantime I'll tag some people who I know were interested ♡♡
NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.
