riding cowboys

Kate ❥ 20 ❥ she/her ♊︎ ☼ ♍︎ ☽ ♌︎ ↑

[savinghorses]

u can call the fic writers every name u want for writing nsfw but u still read it. did u only follow jesus blogs and somehow a daddy dom 18+ filthy nasty smut suddenly appeared on ur christian girl tl??? hmm… the call, it seems, is coming from inside the house.. 🧐🧐

[savinghorses]

TIL WE’RE BOTH PREGNANT

[planet-marz1]

hi i’m an older man from ireland. sex?

I’m sorry. What?

[savinghorses]

Ok....so my boyfriend (let's call him tommy) has a pretty decently sized cyack....but his older brother's (let's call him joel) cyack is even bigger 🤨 I feel like i should mention joel has already dicked me down once before but I didn't tell tommy

anon… you are undeserving of tommy’s love…

(tommy if you see this i would NEVER do that to you)

[savinghorses]

Can I get pregnant if my bf only pulled out partially not fully??

well yes ! but you would only partially be pregnant. if u want to be fully pregnant he has to be fully inside. hole this helps!

[planet-marz1]

Our Little Sheep

Summary: You and Joel celebrate christmas with your many children Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Word Count: ~4.1k

Tags/Warnings:18+MDNI no use of y/n, implied age gap(not specified), reader is able to get pregnant, jackson!joel, peepaw!joel(really peepaw), mentions of pregnancy, brief mentions of childbirth (nothing graphic), brief mentions of breastfeeding (again, nothing graphic) Lots of fluff & cuteness, Joel being a cute girl dad™, this seems like it should be a crackfic, but I promise It's so wholesome

A/N: Ok so this fic idea was born out of my cold medicine induced haze, so bear with me here guys. It's just a silly little fic, not meant to be taken seriously at all, and It's the most fun I've had writing in a bit, so I hope you enjoy reading! Just a little clarity here, the kids' ages range from 0 to 9. I know it gets all confusing here, so I am welcome to provide any further clarity if anyone needs it! A huge thank you to @catchallfangirl for helping with the naming of all of these gremlins & with the constant encouragement ❤️ Thank you to @fhatbhabie for beta reading!

lovely dividers by @pamasaur

| main masterlist | ao3 link | follow my fic updates blog @planetmarz1-notifs

You opened your eyes slightly, squinting them. Joel sleeps peacefully next to you, his breaths even and steady. Burrowing yourself further under the blankets, you scoot closer to him, your head on his chest and intertwining your legs with his. You run your fingers through the curls of his now, fully gray hair.

Slight whines start to fill the room, and you lift your head up and glance over your shoulder to peek into the bassinet next to your side of the bed. Joel had been up with the baby all night after you two had finished wrapping up the gifts for the other kids. So, you groggily sit up in bed, reaching over to pick up the tiny little infant.

“Shhh, It’s alright, little one.” You whisper quietly, trying to calm him. After a few attempts to shush him, it’s still not working. He’s probably hungry, you figure. Lifting your shirt, you help him latch onto your breast, and he finally calms. You sigh quietly with relief. It’s all a part of the process, you try to remind yourself. Little baby Joelseph had only been born a few weeks ago. No, his name isn’t actually Joelseph. Simply a nickname given to him by his many older sisters when you had been pregnant with him. It started as a cute joke, but sure enough he came into the world, and no one was able to call him by his proper name. Named after his father, but considering the chaos of your family, the nickname is simply just another thing that you don’t bother to fight to keep the peace in the house.

The early hours of the morning is usually the small period of time when the house is completely silent. Every other waking minute is filled with the sounds of the kids, either giggling, or fighting with each other over something. Though, silence isn’t always a good thing. You’ll never forget the time the kids got into the kitchen cupboards and practically wreaked havoc in the kitchen while you were outside tending to the sheep.

Sure enough, you hear the trampling of footsteps coming down the hallway. No matter how chaotic it may be, this is your favorite part of the day. Getting to start each day greeted by all of your beautiful children, reminding you of why you are so lucky. You softly graze your fingers over the baby’s hair.

“I think your sisters are here, little guy,” You chuckle softly. The doorknob jiggles a bit. Before all of your daughters begin to spill into your bedroom, all eleven of them. Yes, eleven. You and Joel had, admittedly, gotten out of control in that department.

You and Joel had met when he had returned to Jackson in the spring with Ellie in tow. It had been an immediate connection, quite literally. Hooking up one night in the bathroom of the Tipsy Bison, which is what led to your firstborn, Emilie. The pregnancy had come as a shock, but you and Joel were excited nonetheless.

A chorus of variations of “Mom,” or “Mommy,” begin to fill the room, and you try to shush the girls, reminding them of their little brother. “Ok, girls, I know that you’re excited to get downstairs to all of your gifts, but you’ve got to settle down a bit, alright?” You whisper gently. Finally, they all nod in understanding. The calm is short-lived, though. Jane and Jules, the cutest, but menacing pair of instigators, hop on to your bed, shaking Joel’s shoulder, trying to wake their father.

They were your fourth pregnancy, which was by far the most difficult one you had ever experienced. Constant discomfort, and sleepless nights from the relentless kicking and movement from them. It wasn’t the first time you had been pregnant with twins, but It had gone nothing like you had expected it to.

Joel, though typically a light sleeper, is particularly hard to wake after a night with no sleep, hence why you’d opted on letting him sleep in. The two of them, each on one side of him, lean in close to his face, leaving little room for personal space. “Daddy.” Jules says quietly, Jane keeping a close watch.

Joel peeks one eye open, a bit startled at first at the heavy breathing from the two girls so close to his face, but the confused expression on his face is quickly replaced by a tired grin. As soon as all the girls spot that their father has woken up, they all pile onto your bed, excitedly squealing and giggling. Luckily, little baby Joelseph had already been lulled into a deep sleep after he finished nursing. Even if he hadn’t, you're pretty sure the few short weeks he’s been in the world, he’s already used to the constant noise and chaos from his older sisters.

Joel sits up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, and tries to wrap his arm as many of them as humanly possible.

“When can we open our presents, daddy?” Tiny little Aurora questions impatiently. This is the first year she’s been able to fully understand the concept of Christmas, and all the gift giving. So, understandably, she is ecstatic for all the festivities of the day. She crawls into his lap, after attempting to clamber over all of her sisters in the way. Joel scratches at the scruff of his beard, and lifts her into his lap.

“How about we all eat breakfast first, sweetheart, then you all can tear into your gifts.” He says lowly, his voice still laced with sleep. “Sound like a plan?” He asks. The girls all nod in agreement.

You slowly stand up from the bed, still cradling baby Joelseph in your arms. Walking towards the door, you gesture for the girls to do the same. They all climb off of the bed, and without fail, the house is once again filled with chaos. All eleven of them racing out of your bedroom, and down the staircase to the kitchen.

Joel meets you by the doorway, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Well hello, sleepyhead.” You tease him. “Sleep well?”

“Just like usual, darling.” He kisses you again, this time placing kisses all over your face, and down your neck, before you place your hand gently on his chest stopping him from going any further.

“Not so fast, old man.” you chuckle softly. “We don’t need another one of these.” you say, gesturing down to the baby bundled up in your arms.

“One more wouldn’t hurt, huh?” He teases, and you just shake your head. 

“You say that because you aren’t the one who has to push them out.”

“We should probably get downstairs before they get into stuff that they shouldn’t be” You murmur, and Joel quietly nods in agreement.

The warmth of the morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room as you make your way into the dining room. Joel follows you, his hand brushing against the small of your back.

You and Joel enter the dining room, and expectedly the room is already filled with screaming and chaos. Alive with the energy of your daughters, and the two mischievous kittens, Ginny and Joel, weaving in and out of the chaos. 

Emilie, your oldest, is trying to settle an argument between Lacy and Lily, your first set of twins. Nothing new in your household, nearly every morning, no matter how many times you have to tell them that every seat is the same, the kids insist on fighting on who sits where, who sits next to whom. It’s exhausting, but you can’t help but smile at the chaos unfolding before you-it’s simply the routine of your everyday life.

Emilie, with her stern expression, finally manages to resolve the seating dispute between Lacy and Lily. You glance at Joel, and he chuckles, a knowing look passing between you. The girls quickly settle into their chairs, the anticipation of Christmas morning evident in their sparkling eyes. As you take your seat at the head of the table, Joel sits beside you, and the cacophony gradually subsides. Little Aurora, perched on Joel’s lap, swings her legs excitedly, eager to dive into the festivities.

“Alright, everyone, let’s dig in!” you announce with a smile, and the room erupts in cheers. The aroma of the freshly cooked breakfast wafts through the air as the kids eagerly serve themselves.

Emilie diligently helps the younger ones with their breakfast. She occasionally steals glances at the pile of gifts under the Christmas tree, anticipation gleaming in her eyes.

Lacy and Lily are engaged in animated conversation, their excitement palpable. Daisy can’t stop giggling at something Theo whispered in her ear. The second set of twins, Jane and Jules, sit side by side, already plotting mischief as they eye the presents.

Willow, with her big curious eyes, is inspecting her plate with utmost concentration, trying to decide which part of her breakfast to tackle first.

In the midst of the laughter and chatter, you catch Joel’s eye. There’s a shared understanding between you, a silent acknowledgement of the beautiful chaos that is your family. His gaze is filled with gratitude, and you can’t help but feel the same.

As the kids enjoy their breakfast, you steal a moment with Joel. “Can you believe how fast they're growing?” you murmur, your eyes dancing with a mixture of love and exhaustion.

Joel leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Feels like just yesterday we were sneaking around the Tipsy Bison.”

You laugh, the memory of that fateful night vivid in your mind. “Look where it led us.”

Kylie babbles incoherently as she attempts to mimic her older siblings. Aurora still sits on Joel’s lap, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the festive scene, and Joel aids her with her breakfast.

Maggie sits contentedly in her high chair, fingers sticky with syrup, as she munches on a piece of a pancake you’ve carefully cut up into small pieces for her.

The kids, fueled by excitement and sugar, chatter animatedly about their plans for the day. You and Joel exchange glances, both silently reveling in the joy of parenthood. The journey hasn’t been easy, but moments like these make it all worthwhile.

As breakfast winds down, you glance at Joel, both of you silently agreeing it’s time for the much-anticipated event of the morning.

The living room is now adorned with brightly wrapped gifts, a colorful display of the love and thoughtfulness you and Joel put into each one. The kids finish their breakfast, their eyes darting eagerly between the tree and the presents.

“Alright, kiddos, let the unwrapping begin!” Joel declares, and the room explodes with excitement. Each of their little faces lighting up with joy. 

“Okay, kiddos, let’s see what Santa brought us this year!” Joel exclaims, and the room erupts in cheers. The kids, now fueled by excitement from their furry friends and a hearty breakfast, rush to the tree, each claiming a spot around the mountain of gifts.

Emilie takes charge, distributing gifts to each of her siblings with precision. Paper tears and laughter fill the air as each child discovers the treasures hidden beneath the wrapping.

Lacy and Lily eagerly tear into their presents, sharing excited glances when they unveil matching toys. Daisy clutches a doll close to her heart, and Jane and Jules giggle in delight at the surprise in their packages.

Theo, wide-eyed, unwraps a superhero action figure, and Willow discovers a fluffy stuffed animal that instantly becomes her new best friend. Kylie is overjoyed with a set of building blocks, her imagination already running wild.

Aurora claps her hands in glee as she unwraps a musical toy, and Maggie, though more interested in the wrapping paper than the actual gifts, coos happily.

Daisy twirls with a new dress, her face glowing with delight. “I’m going to wear this everyday!”

Aurora, surrounded by a pile of toys, claps her hands and points excitedly. “Look, Daddy, Mommy, so many toys!” Maggie, with a new plush toy in her tiny hands, giggles with joy. The room is filled with laughter and chatter as the kids excitedly showcase their new treasures.

Jane and Jules squeal in delight as they discover Joel curled up in the tangle of discarded wrapping paper, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Willow, with her big curious eyes, watches the kittens in fascination, occasionally reaching out to stroke their fur. Kylie bursts into giggles as Ginny playfully bats at a shiny ribbon. Aurora claps her hands in delight at the sight of the playful duo. Maggie points with chubby fingers, her face lighting up with a smile as Joel gracefully leaps onto the back of the couch.

Joel catches your eye, and you share a moment of warmth as you witness the joy on your children’s faces.

“Looks like our little fur balls are the stars of the show today.” He chuckles.

Watching as the kittens continue their playful antics. The room is filled with laughter, shouts of excitement, and the crinkling of wrapping paper.

As the chaos subsides, you lean into Joel, watching the kids with a contented smile. “Merry Christmas, Joel.” He whispers back the same sentiment, wrapping his arm around you, anchoring you in the midst of the joyful storm that is your family.

The room buzzes with the joyous laughter of your children, the kittens weaving throughout the living room. As the kids continue to show off their presents, Ginny and Joel curiously inspect the colorful array of toys and trinkets scattered across the room.

Emilie, your eldest, sits by your side, flipping through her new sketchbook. “Mom, look at this! It’s perfect for my drawings. Thank you, Santa!”

Lacy and Lily, wearing their matching necklaces, approach Joel with enthusiasm. “Dad, Dad! Can Joel play with us too?” they ask, extending an invitation for the adventurous kitten to join in on their imaginative play.

Daisy twirls around in her new dress, and with a dramatic flair, she curtsies. “I’m a princess, just like in the stories!”

Jane and Jules, holding their new board game, insist on a family game night. Jules, gives you a confused look, glancing from the box, and then back up at you. “What is Boggle anyway?” 

“It’s just a word game, sweetheart, definitely an easy game to beat your dad at.” you laugh softly, shooting Joel a teasing grin.

Willow proudly shows you the fluffy stuffed animal she received. “Look Mom, It’s Fluffy! Daddy, feel how soft!” She grabs his hand to place it on the stuffed animal, and Joel enthusiastically plays along with her.

Kylie, engrossed in building her tower with the new blocks, beams with accomplishment. “It’s bigger than me, Mommy!” You smile at her gently, and give her compliments on her tower building skills.

Maggie, in her own little world, squeezes her plush toy and gurgles happily. The kittens, sensing the playful atmosphere, join in on the fun, batting at the discarded ribbons and chasing each other around the room.

Joel, still basking in the warmth of the family scene, leans over to you. “Seems like Santa knew exactly what they wanted.”

You nod, a content smile playing on your lips, ‘And the best part is seeing their faces light up with joy.”

The room is filled with laughter, the sound of wrapping paper being crinkled, and the occasional meow from Ginny and Joel. The chaos is harmonious, a melody of love and togetherness that defines your family.

The kids, their excitement undeterred, start brainstorming plans for the day–games to play, stories to tell, and perhaps a snowball fight if the weather permits. As the festivities continue, you can’t help but feel grateful for the love and warmth that fills your home–a treasure more precious than any gift under the tree.

As the kids reveled in the excitement of unwrapping their Christmas gifts, their attention turned to the chalkboard on the mantle–a poignant memorial to their older sister, Sarah. The room hushed momentarily as the children exchanged thoughtful glances, understanding the significance of the chalkboard.

The kids had put together some artwork and drawings the night before. They gathered around the chalkboard, placing their artwork in front of it, creating a beautiful display of love and remembrance. The room, now adorned with their heartfelt tributes, felt infused with a sense of warmth and connection to Sarah’s memory.

Joel, watching from a distance, couldn't help but be moved by the sincerity and creativity of his children. The simple act of setting their drawings in front of the chalkboard transformed the mantle into a gallery of love—a tangible expression of the enduring impact Sarah's memory had on their hearts.

As the morning continued, the drawings stood as cherished tokens—a beautiful reminder that, even in the midst of joyous celebrations, the love for their sister would always hold a special place in the family's heart.

You nudge Joel gently, catching his attention. “Any Idea when Ellie, Dina, and JJ are planning to arrive?”

Joel looks thoughtful for a moment, his eyes scanning the room to make sure all the kids are engaged in their newfound treasures. “They’re aiming to get here just in time for lunch. Should be any moment now.”

Excitement lights up on your face at the news. “The kids are going to be over the moon to see them again, and It wouldn’t be Christmas without them.”

Joel nods in agreement, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Ellie’s always been good at timing. They’ll be here soon.”

As if on cue, a gentle knock at the door catches your attention. You glance at Joel, both of you sharing a knowing smile. The anticipation in the room heightens as the kids, sensing something special, look toward the door with wide eyes. Moments later, the front door bursts open, and the lively chatter of Ellie and Dina fills the air. The children squeal in delight, dropping their toys and rushing toward the doorway. Ellie enters first, holding JJ’s hand, Dina follows closely behind with a warm grin on her face.

The kids shout at them in unison, enveloping the new arrivals in a sea of hugs and excitement. You and Joel stand back, watching the heartwarming reunion unfold.

Ellie, catching your eye, gives you a knowing nod. “Merry Christmas!” she says as she greets you and Joel. You welcome them with open arms, a surge of joy filling your heart. “We’re so glad you’re here.”

As the laughter and joyful chaos continue to fill the room, you can’t help but marvel at the beautiful tapestry of your family, woven together by love, shared moments, and the bonds that withstand the test of time.

Amidst the joyful commotion, you navigate through the sea of excited children, still cradling little Joelseph in your arms. Joel joins you, and together you watch as Ellie, Dina, and JJ immerse themselves in the holiday cheer.

Ellie, after receiving an enthusiastic welcome from the kids, approaches you with a playful grin.

“How’s the newest little troublemaker doing?” she asks, casting an affectionate glance at Joelseph.

You chuckle, gently rocking the sleeping baby in your arms. “He’s been an angel all morning, surprisingly.” you yawn, tiredly.

Dina joins the conversation, “He’s gotten so big since we last saw him. Mind if we steal him for a bit?”

You nod with a smile, carefully passing Joelseph over to Dina. The little one stirs for a moment, but settles back into a peaceful slumber in Dina’s arms. “He’s all yours.’

The room continues to buzz with giggles and Ellie, Dina, and JJ become a seamless part of the festivities. The kids eagerly show them their new toys, and soon, the kittens, Ginny and Joel join the playful parade.

As the day unfolds, the house becomes a vibrant canvas, painted with the hues of love and togetherness. Joel, now with Aurora on his shoulders, navigates through the lively crowd. You find a quiet moment with Ellie, who is holding Joelseph with a tender smile.

“He’s adorable,” Ellie remarks, her eyes filled with a mix of nostalgia and affection. “Feels like just yesterday you were dealing with my teenage antics.”

You laugh, remembering those not-so-distant days. “Time flies, doesn’t it? Now look at us, and you, with a little family of your own.”

Ellie glances around the room, the sparkle of the holiday lights reflecting in her eyes. “Couldn’t ask for a better way to spend Christmas. And look at Joel, still being the heart and soul of this chaos.”

You follow her gaze to Joel, who is now surrounded by a group of kids, listening intently to one of Jane and Jules’ stories. The love in his eyes is evident as he shares in their laughter and mischief.

Ellie looks back at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You both did an amazing job. I’m proud to be part of this.”

And in that moment, as the laughter and warmth of your family envelop you, you couldn’t agree more. This Christmas, with all its magic, has woven another chapter into the rich tapestry of your lives–a chapter filled with love, laughter, and the cherished moments that make your family truly extraordinary.

As the festivities continue, Ellie, still cradling Joelseph, couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease Joel. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she approaches Joel, who’s now attempting to disentangle himself from a knot of kids.

“Hey, old man,” Ellie quipped, giving Joel a playful nudge. “You holding up okay with all these little rascals running around?”

Joel chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. “Someone’s gotta keep ‘em in check. You’ll find out soon enough, Ellie. Parenthood’s no joke.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting to Joelseph. “You’re the expert now, huh? It took you guys long enough to figure out the secret recipe for a baby boy.”

Joel grumbled and feigned offense. “Well, it’s not like we had a manual.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Says the guy who needed a football team's worth of daughters before finally getting a son.”

You joined in on the banter, giving Joel an amused smile. “Took a bit of trial and error, but look at our charming little Joelseph now.”

Ellie leaned in, bouncing the baby gently in her arms. “Not bad for an old guy, huh, kiddo?” she cooed, earning a content gurgle from the baby.

As the day of joyful chaos began to wind down, the once lively house now settled into a more serene atmosphere. The twinkling lights of the Christmas tree cast a gentle glow over the living room as the laughter of the children gradually transformed into quiet giggles and yawns.

You and Joel, tired but content, herded the kids upstairs for their bedtime routine. The kittens, Ginny and Joel, followed along, their playful antics slowing down as they, too, sensed the impending calm.

“Alright kiddos, time for bed.” Joel announced, his tone gentle but firm as he ushered the kids into their respective rooms.

The procession of bedtime rituals unfolded–one by one, teeth were brushed, pajamas were put on, and stories were read. The younger ones nestled into their beds, eyelids growing heavy with the sweet fatigue of a day filled with excitement.

As you checked on each child, offering goodnight kisses and tucking them in, Joel moved gracefully through the house, turning off the twinkling lights and closing curtains. The house seemed to exhale, the echoes of joyous laughter replaced by the hushed whispers of bedtime.

In the quiet moments between putting the kids to bed, you found Joel in the hallway, a shared look of satisfaction passing between you. The day had been a whirlwind of love and joy, and now the peaceful hush settled over the house like a comforting blanket.

“Another Christmas for the books,” Joel remarked, his voice low.

You nodded, a smile playing on your lips. “And many more to come, I hope.”

The two of you continued the nightly routine, gently closing doors and ensuring the house was ready for the calm of night. The soft glow of the light spilling from your bedroom illuminated your path as you and Joel made your way into the room, where little Joelseph lay sleeping in his bassinet.

Joel paused by the doorway, his eyes fondly watching the baby. “He’s been the best gift, hasn’t he?”

You nodded, a warmth settling in your heart. “The best, indeed.”

The day had been a symphony of chaos and joy, a beautiful crescendo that had now found its resolution in the quietude of the evening. As you and Joel retired to your room, you couldn’t help but reflect on the blessings of family, love, and the precious moments that make Christmas truly magical.

tag list: @pertinentpostmortem @party-hearses @mandoisapunk @bastardmandenni @chaotic-mystery @beskarandblasters @amanitacowboy @littlegrungegirlaf @pedrodascal @sweetercalypso @ilovepedro @cool-iguana @alwaysmicado @lovers-liability @futuraa-free @morgaussy @pedritoferg @spookykoolkat @wethairjoel @chronically-ghosted @buckyispunk @pattwtf @morning-star-joy @elvinaa @tinycozycomfort @magpiepills @pr0ximamidnight @joelscurls @janaispunk @5oh5 @farmerlarrry @maximoff-forevermore @atinylittlepain @joeldjarin @spookyxsam @mrsmando @hyzer34 @limerence4u @sin-djarin @reddedmiller @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa @kajashe @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @vee-bees-blog @josephquinnswhore @worhols

lmk if you'd like to be removed from the tag list! 💜or let me know if you'd like to be added!

[savinghorses]

YET ANOTHER BANGER FROM MARI!!!!!!

[savinghorses]

Did you fully save a horse? And did you fully ride the cowboy? I need to fully know

i fully saved every horse in the west 😩hopefully the whole world next

[savinghorses]

did you know you make me fully wet like FULLY aroused bbg 😏😏😏

im fully nude and fully alone hmu 😩

[planet-marz1]

[netherfeildren]

Evermore

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel’s your older boyfriend who your parents had a hard time approving of, but you’re engaged now and spending your first Thanksgiving with your family, and well, it’s always fun doing things you know you shouldn’t do under the roof of your childhood home.

-OR-

The Thanksgiving AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; Thanksgiving AU; Devoted Joel Miller; Established Relationship; Thanksgiving is the most boyfriend holiday and it needs to be discussed; Fucking in your childhood home shenanigans; Pretty soft and sweet; Needy behavior; Older man/Younger woman; Daddy kink; Unprotected PIV; Creampie; Breeding Kink; Oral sex; Fluff and Smut; Praise Kink; Come eating; PWP

A/N: Was thinking yesterday that Thanksgiving is the most boyfriendy holiday, and so this seemed entirely necessary after that epiphany. I’m sick as an old dog right now, and wrote this so quickly and just for fun. Any and all mistakes are property of my NyQuil induced high, apologies and enjoy and happy holidays :]

Word Count: 4.2K

Read on AO3

“You’re doing so good.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, baby. So, so good. It’s going so well.” You drag your nails slowly up the wide expanse of his strong back, feeling the divots and bumps of his spine, the thick padding of muscles that jump and shiver at your touch. He’d donned the nice green and red plaid button down you’d bought him for tonight, and he’s a little damp at the small of his back, giving away the nerves he’s trying to keep hidden from you, but you can tell anyways, sensed them as if they’d been your own fluttering within you. More attuned to another person than maybe is normal, perhaps, but you know this man, your man, your fiance now. You understand him. 

“You think he likes me?” And his voice goes a little gruff, sheepish, words lodging in his throat as he slowly soaps your mother’s special holiday china in the warm sink water. The two of you’d been relegated to clean up duty after you’d finished the beautiful Thanksgiving meal your mother had spent days readying in preparation for your first official visit with Joel as the man you’d soon marry. No longer just the older boyfriend who your father couldn’t stand to hear about, much less bear the sight of. And the come around had been slow going, undoubtedly, tireless work on yours and your mother’s parts trying to get him to relent, to accept the man who you’d chosen to spend the rest of your life with as a good man for his daughter. 

“Yes– yes. Absolutely. You made him laugh so many times. And he was so interested when you mentioned the house.”

You feel him suck in a shaky breath and move to wrap your arms around the strong breadth of his waist, resting your cheek against him, listening to the thud, thud of his beating heart. “Christ–” He gives a tremulous laugh that you follow suit warmly, palms splaying out over his belly. “He was, wasn’t he?” 

“So interested. Please, don’t worry anymore. My mom loves you, and dad’s on his way there too, I know he is, I promise.”

“He’s just protective,” he says, shutting off the water and pulling the plug on the drain. The both of you stand there in the silence together, listening to the little tornado of water suck away the remnants of the perfect dinner you’d just had with your parents and the man you were going to marry. It really had been perfect, and you’re telling him the truth when you say you really do think your father’s coming around. He’d been apprehensive at first, more than apprehensive, perhaps, with Joel being so much older than you, twenty years to be exact. And with a teenage daughter of his own, Sarah, who was spending the holiday with her mother. 

Your mother had always been the easy going one, and she’d taken one look at Joel, the dark, silver threaded curls, the thick shoulders and sparkly, hazel eyes, the too charming smile and had immediately understood. Your father had seen all those same things and seen nothing but trouble immediately deserving of mistrust. Things had been rocky for a time, but when Joel had gotten down on one knee and asked you to spend the rest of your life with him and Sarah, when he’d broken ground on the house he was building you with his bare hands from the dirt up out by the lake, well… your father hadn’t been able to withhold his approval for much longer after that was all said and done. 

“And for good reason,” he continues, reaching for the dish towel, drying off his hands before covering yours over his stomach with his wide palms, pulling your arms tighter around him. He brings one of your hands up to his face, cupping his own mouth with it to press a kiss to the tender cove. “The man should take me out back and drag me through the mud,” he mumbles, muffled into your skin, dragging his mouth slowly from side to side, tickling your palm with his whiskers. 

You press yourself harder against him, shoving him into the edge of the counter, dizzy with the feel of your heart beating so hard against your sternum it reverberates against the ribs in his back. “No, baby. Why? Never.” You press a kiss right over the slope of his spine. 

He gives a soft laugh at the feel of your wriggling against him, trying to find friction anywhere and anyway, not very inconspicuously rubbing your breasts against his back, and he turns slowly in the circle of your arms with that humming laugh still caught in his throat, bending slightly at the knees when he wraps his own arms around your waist to pull you up and into him so that your feet are left to dangle above his own heavy boots. He nuzzles at the warm, fragrant skin beneath the edge of your jaw, a small kiss to the tender spot behind your ear, where he whispers, “‘Cause all I could think about at the goddamn table, sittin’ next to your father, was how pretty your tits look in that dress you wore for me – how much I wish I could kiss that pretty pussy to sleep tonight.” 

You whine low, desperate, needy, wrapping your arms behind his neck to press his face tightly to your throat, breath hitching at the feel of his teeth, sharp at your pulse. “Joel–”

He shakes his head slowly, a long stream of sighing breath warm against your collarbone before he says, “I know– I know, baby. I’m telling ya– your father should kill me for the things I wanna do to his little girl. For the things I do to her already.”

The visit had so far been everything you could’ve wished for, and what you’d appreciated more than anything, more than your father’s very approval of your fiance, or your mother’s happiness for you, was that Joel had found the perfect balance between being respectful, ingratiating even, while still remaining uncowed by your father. Walking into your parents home with your hand in his, a deferential kiss to your mother’s cheek, and a strong, self assured handshake for your father while he’d handed him the bottle of his favorite fine aged whiskey and a demure, I’m glad we could make this work for our girl.

Our girl, he’d said, and it had made everything that lived inside of you with his name on it, everything that was perpetually soft and wet for him, go molten. You loved him. You belonged to him. And you’d chosen him for yourself, and he was sure as hell going to make sure everyone the two of you came across knew what that choice entailed, what it meant to him. Your father had been forced into capitulation, all with the whiskey and the self assurance in Joel’s eyes, your own unbridled elation, and your mother’s giggles and blushing smiles like every other woman who’s ever met this man, unable to resist the charm of that Southern twang and the too gorgeous smile, no other recourse had been left to your poor dad. 

You think of this as you make your way on silent tiptoes through your parent’s dark, quiet home. It had been the one concession you’d not garnered from your father, the sleeping arrangements. He’d absolutely refused to allow you and Joel to share a bed under his roof, no questions asked. And no matter how much you’d pleaded and your mother had cooed and cawed and threatened him, he’d not relented. At this point, you were worried he’d not let you sleep in the same bed as Joel even after the two of you’d been married. But what your father didn’t understand, what even you yourself barely understood sometimes was that you needed Joel. You need him. No one, no one except for Joel himself understood how desperately that ran inside of you. He understood you, he always has. 

You pause as you reach the closed door of his bedroom, splaying a palm against the fine grained wood to take a settling breath, your heart beating so fast you feel it in your throat, chock full of excitement, lust, desperate yearning. To have him here, in your childhood home, where you’d been a teenager, a girl, grown into a woman, you want him so, so badly, inside of you, around you, beneath you. You can never sleep without him anymore, no comfort to be found in the too small bed of your childhood – you turn the knob and slip inside. 

The blue darkness of the guest bedroom paints his form in shadows, big under the pretty quilt your mother has adorning the bed. You can see the heavy mass of his shoulder peeking from beneath the edge of the quilt, the ratty gray t-shirt you know has a faded longhorn stretched across the front; not able to sleep naked and wrapped only in you the way he usually does when under your parents roof. You turn the lock and step carefully on tipped toes, avoiding the creaky bits in the hardwood floor you’re so familiar with after a lifetime living in this house and lift the edge of the quilt to slip into the cocoon of warmth with him. Like a living furnace, you snake your arm over his flank slowly, enjoying the shiver and jerk of his muscles as you stroke him awake. Your palm, passing over thick ridged muscles and soft belly, digging beneath to feel the wispy scratch of hair there. 

He makes a deep sound, low in his chest, legs shifting as he comes to wakefulness, and then the gruff murmur of your name being whispered into the dark, his big, callused palm coming to wrap entirely around your fist beneath his t-shirt, keeping you from slipping it inside his sleep pants. “Baby, what’re you doin’?” He slurs, voice full of sleep and slow waking lust. 

You press your pelvis into his backside, hitching your knee up and over his hip to wrap yourself around him like vines. “I need you,” you mewl, baby voice trying to get ahead of his polite refusal before he’s able to get it out. He’d told you, before the two of you’d embarked on this weekend at your parents house, that there was to be no funny business on your part. As if he didn’t know that that was your favorite kind of business where he was concerned. You press a kiss above his scapula, then open your jaw to drag your teeth against the skin warmed cotton. You rub against him, clutching and pulling at his chest and stomach, biting and kissing as much of his back as you can reach, your foot somehow finding its way into his lap so that you can feel his quickly hardening cock against the sensitive arch of your foot. 

He groans roughly. “You’re gonna get us caught, sweet girl,” he tries to protest, but wraps his hand around the little foot in his lap anyways, pressing the arch of it into that half hard erection, rubbing against it. 

“I need you– I can’t sleep without you,” you whine, and he makes a frustrated sound, turning to face you, gripping your knee as he goes to open the cradle of your hips for himself, drawing your leg over his waist so that you’re suddenly chest to chest, sipping on each other’s warm breath. With a fist in your hair he gives you a hardly believable reprimand, little girl, and presses his lips briefly to yours, quick and damp, barely there, like he can’t help himself, like he knows that if he starts he won’t be able to stop, wandering hands already slipping up the hem of your nightgown, squeezing your panty clad ass. 

“Your parents…” he tries again, the roll of his hips against yours, coupled with a hitched whine, making his objections a little laughable.

“Don’t you miss me? Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me here with you?”

“Of course– of course I do–” You twist your fingers in his curls, the first real press of your mouths, his damp upper lip slotting between both of yours so that you can give it a little suck. Then the tip of his tongue touching yours, and you’re opening all the way for him, moaning wantonly into his mouth, letting him lick and taste behind the line of your teeth. “‘Course I want you here, baby.”

“I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet,” you promise. “Please, please, Joel. Please, just–” The hand squeezing your ass slides between your legs, finds the damp plaquet of panties. Fuckin’ soaked already, needy girl. “Please, just fuck me. I’ll be so quiet, I promise.”

“Baby…”

Please, please, please. He’s always had something about him that turns you into nothing more than a wet little girl desperate for the big, big man’s attention. The impropriety of your surroundings has no bearing on this, the desperation is as present as ever, heightened even, maybe, because of the wrongness of it, because you could be caught red handed at any second if you’re not careful, not quiet enough. 

“‘Course I love you so fuckin’ much. You even need to ask?” He rubs the flat of his palm over your pussy, the tip of his middle finger finding the nub of your clit covered by the soaked wet silk to press lightly on each pass forward.

“No, Daddy. I know,” you breathe soft and secret into his mouth, watch the slight widening of his eyes as you say it. You can picture the flush suffusing his cheeks at hearing you call him so, know the effect the sound of it has on him. 

“Fucking Christ,” he murmurs, pulling you tighter against him, tilting your head back by the grip he has on your hair so that he can deepen his kiss, taste you more thoroughly. “Better be quiet while I fuck you.” He pulls back, mock frown and a note of reprimand in his voice as his fingers dip beneath the silk of your panties to find the wet, swollen mess of you already. He moans into your open mouth, your name and I love you and wet fuckin’ pussy as he starts to pet at you slowly. His fingers swirling at your clit and then moving to your opening, dipping inside just a tiny bit, giving you almost nothing, forcing a frustrated whine up your throat. “I said quiet.”

“Please, Daddy. Please,” you beg, but he returns to your clit, ignoring your whining, pinching the bundle of nerves lightly before he’s back to teasing the mouth of your cunt, dipping the tip of a single finger in shallowly to pull your wetness from you and spread it over your mound, slicking you up for him. 

“We’re gonna go nice and slow. Gonna take my pretty cunt nice and slow, and you’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you? Gonna be quiet – not get us caught, right? Say yes.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, pressing kisses all along his face and jaw and throat, needy fingers twisting in his curls, scratching at the back of his neck and the hills of his shoulders. He make an approving groan of a sound, rolling the two of you over so that you’re on your back, splayed out beneath him, and he pulls the vee of your nightgown down, bearing your breasts to him, sucking on each nipple, first hard then soft, then with teeth and tongue, slicking you in his spit, and you try and stay quiet, you really, really do, but it’s so hard not to cry out at the sight of his jaw hinging wide, seemingly trying to take the whole heavy weight of your breast into his mouth in one go. 

He always has you like he wants you more than anything else in the whole world, like he’s never wanted anything else in his whole life more than he wants you, and nothing feels better than that, nothing makes you crazier for him than the way he wants you so desperately. 

He makes his way down the length of you with kisses to your breasts, your ribs, your belly, the mound of your pelvic bone, before he’s gathering your knees together and bending them to press against your chest, pulling the lace and silk of your panties over the curve of your bottom and diving nose first into your wet cunt, taking in a deep drag of your scent and then dragging the broad, flat of his tongue from your asshole to your clit in one long, slow swipe. The groan he ends on has you almost coming on his tongue just like that, the sound so hungry it would scare someone who doesn’t want to be wanted as badly by this man as you do. And he eats your cunt like he’s angry, like he’s in love with you, like he doesn’t care if you get caught or not. Tongue plunging into your pussy, sucking on your clit, shaking his head, quick and hard, from side to side so that the obscene sound of your wetness against his mouth is all you can hear over the cacophony sounding in your ears right before you gush for him all wet and sweet and sticky, covering his tongue and beard. His lips wrap around your swollen clit again while it still pulses for him, and you have to shove your fist into your mouth, drooling around it to stifle the sound of your cries for his cock while he sucks you into a second painfully fluttery orgasm, your womb cramping hard and tight around nothing, your cunt clutching desperately at air for the cock it’s about to gladly take. The hum of his movements, of his whines and moans, don’t match his promise for nice and slow. They tell you this is going to be hard and deep and might even hurt, and that you’ll like it all the more for that. This is, after all, what you’d snuck in here for, just exactly this. 

He pulls away from your cunt with a loud, wet suck, popping your clit from his puckered mouth like a piece of too ripe, too sweet fruit, before crawling up the length of you, pulling your soaked panties and your nightgown from your body as he goes, shucking his own sweat soaked shirt over his head and kicking his pajama bottoms away. When he takes your mouth again, his face and beard are wet and sticky with your slick, all sweet sugared musk and the angry thrust of his tongue, his fingers, too hard and too tight wrapping around your jaw, grunting into your mouth as he sucks on your tongue. His burning hot cock thrusts between your wet cleft, the sound of your leaking pussy loud enough to be heard over the sound of your mingled panting breaths. You feel him grip himself, stroking once, twice, wide, blunt head bumping against slick soaked skin, before he’s notching at your cunt and shoving in, hard and fast. Not giving you a chance to think about it before he’s bumping at the mouth of your womb, a muted bruise you never tire of; his too big cock that still pinches every time, that presses in just on this side of too deep to always be comfortable, but you don’t care. The proof is in the hurt, and you need constant reminding that he’s real, that this is real. It’s your greatest pleasure, after all, the reassurance of him, of the two of you, and he never tires of giving it to you. You know that giving you the things you need and want from him, turns Joel on more than anything else.

He groans long and low into the crook of your shoulder when he bottoms out and holds there for several drawn out moments, both of you enjoying the pulse and throb of your connection. He’s so deep and you’re so wet for him, taking him so, so well, like he always tells you that you do. You’d felt, from the first moment that you’d laid eyes on him, like you’d been made for him. Put on this earth just for him to find and keep, and doing this, having each other like this, even after all the times you’ve done it, always feels like further proof of it. He grinds against you, hips shifting from side to side, tip bumping against the deepest part of you, before he’s clutching at your ass and flipping the both of you over suddenly, cock never slipping from your tight clutch when he settles you on top of him, buried to the hilt. You feel him in your stomach like this, and you tell him so, little hand coming to rest low on your belly where you’re holding him inside of you, pressing down so that the both of you can feel your connection from the inside out, groaning in tandem all wide and sparkly eyed as you look at each other. And he’s nodding his head at you as you start to shift your hips slowly, feeling the wet slide of his length, the grind of your clit against his pelvis, one hand pressing down on your belly, the other anchoring yourself on his own stomach so that you can rock yourself on him. 

He pulls one of your knees up, resting your foot flat on the bed to open you to his gaze, so that he can watch the way the thick root of his cock splits your cunt open for him to fuck up into. The two of you find your rhythm, you rolling your hips down on his upthrust, and he’s still nodding his head at you, mouthing words made of only air at you while you gasp and gulp for breath, I love you and you’re so pretty and yeah, ride that cock, baby. All you can do in return is mumble his name at him over and over again, Joel, Joel, Joel, nonsensical. Your brain doesn't work when he’s got his cock wedged this deep inside of you, it just doesn’t.

There's sweat pooling in the divots of his collarbones, the sun grizzled notch of his throat, and you fold over forward, changing the angle, deepening it, to lick up those little pools of salt, sucking on his neck until he’ll surely have incriminating bruises tomorrow. You don’t care, not even a little bit. He’s so yours in this moment, always really, but right now, Joel feels so, so incredibly yours, and you love him so much, and he’s going to be your husband one day soon and nothing else really matters besides that. 

He wraps both arms around your back, squeezes you to himself tight and starts to fuck up into you, fast, brutal, again, nothing nice and slow about it like he’d promised, and you’re forced to dig your teeth into his shoulder so hard you’re scared for a moment you’ll taste blood on your tongue. You can feel your orgasm crawling up your spine, pooling like liquid heat in your pelvis while everything goes tight and fluttery inside of you. “How mad would he be if I knocked you up right now? If I fucked his baby girl full’a my baby under his roof?” He grunts into your ear, and there’s the dip in your restraint. As much as you want to hold off and wait for him, you clench down hard around him with a sharp cry, mouthful of his skin to muffle you only barely. “Huh? What’dya think he’d say?” He continues, changing the angle so that his pelvis bumps against your clit on every punch in, balls slapping wetly against the curve of your ass while he pets at the tight ring of muscle back there, tempting you with more than you think you can take right now. “If you go all pretty and round and soft for me before our wedding.” 

You can't speak, you’re nothing but air and sticky, sweet wet in the shape of a girl made just for him. Too tight grip in your hair, and he’s jerking your face towards him, grunting into your mouth as he starts to spill inside of you, burning hot come milked out of his cock and deep into you, and he tells you again how much he loves you, tells you that you’re his pretty little wife because it’s already felt like that for so long. A marrying of your very selves despite the lack of legal nothing that means so little to the both of you when you have all this between you already. Tells you that he can’t wait to see his baby all full of his baby. 

When he’s finished pumping you filled to the brim he turns you over again, pulls out slowly so that the both of you can appreciate the sound of his heavy cock slipping wetly from your well used pussy, and when he bends to eat your mingled come out of your puffy cunt, only to then wedge your mouth open so that he can spit your fluids onto your waiting tongue, all here, taste how good we are, the only words left when it comes to this man and this thing you have between the two of you is always simply thank you. 

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[savinghorses]

this is SINFUL

[beskarandblasters-deactivated20]

#7 PLSPLS 🙏🧡

HI KAJ!!!!!

7 is…

This is my anthem actually 😍

Send me a number 1-100 and I’ll tell you the corresponding song on my Spotify wrapped playlist + some lyrics!!

[savinghorses]

HELP WHY IS IT THIS SONG 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[savinghorses]

stevie nicks having a song w lana del rey is actually the best thing that ever happened to me

[hyzer34]

Cherry Waves, chpt 2: Southern Constellations

Summary | You wonder how things are going to be with Joel after what happened last week, also your dad goes away for the weekend.

Pairing | DBF!Joel Miller x F!reader

Word Count | 5.2k

Warnings | 18+, no outbreak, modern au, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s, joel is in his 40s) mentions of anxiety, panic attack, mentions of alcoholism (readers dad), slight mention of rough childhood, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, no y\n, if i missed anything like always please let me know!

Authors Note | I'm so sorry this took forever to come out! I was trying to get this perfect before I posted! Thank you again to @savinghorses and @amanitacowboy for reading and helping me with this chapter. I love you both! Thank you @saradika-graphics for these beautiful dividers! As always I hope you enjoy it! Mwah!  

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

BTW I am not doing a taglist I made a blog @hyzer34fics for just my fics! Just follow that bad boy and turn on notifications for updates!

You haven’t seen Joel since he came down your throat in his bedroom last week. You half expected a call or a text from him but you know that’s not how he works, the only real reason the man has a phone is for Sarah and work. 

Your dad invited him over for dinner on wednesday night but he declined, he said he really needed to send out a quote to a new customer but was it really because of what you did? 

Does he wish it never happened? Did I overstep? No, because I heard him moan my name, right? Fuck did I hear him wrong? 

Your chest tightens as your mind starts to spiral for the third time this week. When you realize that you’re walking the edge of falling into another panic attack you push yourself off the coach, being quiet not to wake your snoring father that’s laid out next to you. The voice in your head continues to speak against your will. 

He’s never going to want to see me again. This is gonna ruin his relationship with my dad too right? How could it not? He’s gonna tell him, oh fuck, my dad will kick me out, I’ll be homeless, I won’t have anyone. I’ll be alone.

The walls creak as they start to move in towards you, pushing all the oxygen out of the room through the air vents. You have to get out of the house, you desperately need fresh air to fill your lungs. 

The slight shake in your hands leads you to drop your car keys on the floor, your head shoot’s up to see that your dad didn’t even flinch at the sound, thanks to the tv blaring through the living room and the empty beer bottles littering the coffee table and floor in front of him. 

Did he want me to stop? Did he tell me to stop and I just didn’t hear him? But the way he looked at me and rubbed my cheek had to mean something. Right? It had to. 

The burning in the back of your throat rages on as you turn the ignition, Joel’s bedroom light bouncing off the rearview mirror as you back out the driveway. Warm tears start to overflow from your eyes as you roll the windows all the way down, letting the midnight air fill the cab. 

He said it should never happen again. Why did I say it should? Who am I to be so bold? I can’t breathe, I need to calm down. Calm down. Calm down!! Just breathe!! 

You finally put the radio on as you drive down the quiet streets, letting the headlights guide the route that you always take when you feel like this. Your cheeks start to feel tight from the tears that stain them being dried from the wind, the sensation starts to pull you back into your body. 

The tremble in your hands starts to subside as you pull up to the lake, the place that’s seen you at your worst over and over again. Your tires crunch down the dark gravel road, illuminated only by your lights and the moon slipping through the dense trees. 

Your breathing starts to even out when you reach the edge of the water, shifting the car into park, opening the door to get out. It’s still rather warm in Texas but being by the water, at midnight, in just sleep shorts and a t-shirt sends goosebumps over your skin, but you welcome the sensation. 

You climb on to the hood of your car, exposing your skin to the cool metal. You tuck your knees into your chest, staring out into the lake, watching the slight ripples in the water distort the reflection of the moon. Listening to the slight breeze rustle the leaves of the trees that stand tall all around you. Trying to remember what your guidance counselor told you, “Breathe in for 5, hold for 3, breathe out for 4.” 

After a little while you stop shaking, the tightness in your chest dissipates, your mind is calm, you are calm, just like the scenery around you. That’s part of the reason why you think whenever you’re having a rough time you come here, everything is so peaceful. The soft sounds of the water lapping at the edge of the concrete boat ramp, the chirps of birds telling their mates that it's time to come home and rest. 

You slide your body off the hood and get back into your car, doing the same process as before but without the tears. Turning the key, rolling down the windows, putting on happier music, shifting it into gear to head back home. 

As your headlights shine down your street you notice that Joel’s truck is missing from his driveway, but the light in his bedroom is just as bright as when you left. You immediately park your car and run back into the house, trying to not wonder where he is, what he might be doing, or who he might be seeing this late at night. 

You sigh as you walk through the front door, greeted by the same scene as when you left. You collect the numerous empty beer bottles in your arms, hoping that the clinks and clanks will wake up your dad, he always complains about his back after he passes out on the couch. But he doesn’t even flinch. 

Once all the empties are thrown away you unfold one of the spare blankets, laying it over his body like you’ve done countless times before. You wish things could be different, you wish your whole life could have been different. You’ve always envied the kids who you saw getting picked up from school with open arms, kisses to their cheeks, being asked how their day was. While you were crying in the guidance office because they were both too fucked up to remember to pick you up from school. 

As you slide into bed, head pounding and eyes dry from the tears that caused your mascara to run down your face that you just don't have the energy to take off right now, you can’t help but glance over at Joel’s house just as he’s getting out of his truck. 

No shoes, ratty black and red plaid pajama pants, black t-shirt and his fluffy brown hair tousled around. He almost looks like he rushed out of the house just as fast as you did. You try not to think about it too hard as you let yourself fall asleep. 

“Hey honey.” Your dad whispers as he slowly pushes open your door, trying to wake you up softly. The sound of his heavy boots making their way towards your bed is what knocks you out of your slumber. Blinking a few times until your eyes adjust.

“Hey sleepyhead. Don’t forget I'm leaving for that conference today. Will be home at some point tomorrow night”

“Oh yeah, right, I forgot.” You remember he told you last month that his company had some architectural meeting going on in a couple towns far enough away that they booked a nice hotel for the night. “Is Joel still going with you?” 

“No said he got some stuff he has to take care of around here this weekend. Didn’t specify what.” He pauses for a second, like he’s about to mention that he woke up under a blanket and with no empties around him, but he doesn’t, he never does. 

“Anyways, have a good time home alone, be safe, text me if you need anything but Joel will be right across the street if it’s urgent.” He places a quick kiss to the crown of your head before heading back towards your bedroom door. 

“I know the drill dad. Drive careful.” He gives you a nod before shutting your door and making his way down the stairs. You watch from your window as he loads his bags into his truck and drives off. Not even seconds later you feel your phone vibrate the mattress of your bed. 

Your jaw just about hits the floor when you realize it’s from Joel Miller himself. You catch a peek of him standing in front of his truck staring at his phone, hand on the door handle of his truck, waiting for your response. 

Know you’re gonna be alone tonight, finished up with work around 5. Come over for dinner at 6?

You can’t help but feel a soft heat spread across your cheeks and a small flutter in your stomach. You also can’t help but feel a little crazy at how you let your mind wander over the past week but knowing yourself, you’re not surprised. 

yeah i would really like that. 

You can just make out a smile on his lips as he climbs into his truck after tucking his phone into the back pocket of his distressed blue jeans. Am I what he needs to take care of this weekend? 

At 5:58 the nerves start to creep in, you can’t understand why, you’ve had dinner with this man a million times, have talked with him a million more, but this time feels different. It doesn’t feel like he asked you over for dinner to be kind because he knows your dads away, it feels like he asked you over for dinner because he wants to see you, spend time with you, but you could be wrong. 

This time as you’re walking up to the door you hear his old rock music playing and this time when you knock on the door you hear a “come in!” from the other side. 

The smell of pasta sauce and garlic bread fills your nose as you open the door, two dinner plates set next to each other on the table with a mahogany teakwood candle burning in the middle, definitely something Sarah bought for him one birthday. 

He smiles at you as he stands in the kitchen, scooping the rest of the pasta out of the pot and into a serving bowl. He’s not in his usual after work attire, nicer jeans that you’ve only seen on large events, a pristine white t-shirt that looks like he just bought it, slight damp hair pushed back off his forehead. 

“Hey darlin.” He grabs the large bowl and walks over to place it on the wooden table. “Come sit. Sorry it’s nothing special.” He pulls one of the chairs out for you to slide in, taking the one next to you once you’re seated. 

“It’s perfect, trust me.” He grabs your plate and fills it with the steaming food, doing the same with him after. “I would have ended up eating cereal or something.” 

You’re sure he can hear your heart pounding against your ribcage as you both eat, making small talk about work and life this past week, both avoiding the elephant that lurks in the corner of the room. 

With each passing second the tension grew, threatening to snap at any moment. You could feel his eyes lingering over your body longer and longer, catching glances of his dark orbs locked onto your lips as you spoke. He wouldn’t invite you over like this if he didn’t want you again, right? 

Before you know the foods grown cold and forgotten on the table as you straddle his lap on the creaky wooden chair, his large hands pinning your hips down on his crotch where you feel him grow harder beneath you, your hands pulling slighting at the hair at the nape of his neck, his lips gliding over the base of your throat.

“I feel like I owe you for last week.” His deep voice slightly mumbled as he speaks into your skin. 

“I meant to tell you I'm sor-“ His grip tightens around your hips as he lifts you off his lap and places you down on the dining room table in front of him. 

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.” His hands slide under your shirt, his warm palms heating the sides of your body as they work their way up. “I’m the one who should be apologizin, feel like a damn creep.” 

The feeling of his calloused hands stroking your soft skin sends a shiver down your spine. “Joel, I'm an adult, I have been for a long time.” 

“I know darlin, I know that.” His hands make their way to your supple breasts, rubbing his index fingers over the hard buds that poke through your bra as he bends down slightly to kiss the inside of your bare thigh, nibbling softly with his front teeth. “Just don’t know what everyone else would think.”

“I don't really care what other people think.” Your head drops back slightly as his lips inch closer and closer to your core, his hands sliding their way back down your body to unbutton your jean shorts. The knot in your tummy grows tighter with each passing second. He pulls down on the waist of your shorts and you raise your hips to help him get them out of the way. 

His long fingers immediately find your swollen clit through the now soaked fabric of your panties, almost like he has known your anatomy for years, like he's done this to you a million times before. You haven't been touched like this in a very long time. 

“Feel kinda bad for you baby.” He whispers as he drags his hand away from your body, causing a desperate whine to fall from your mouth as your head comes forward to look at him. Your eyes track his hands as they reach for your thong, tearing it down your body to leave your bottom half fully exposed to him. 

He leans back in his chair a little to admire you, dripping and ready just for him. “God damn baby.” His husky voice practically leaves you breathless as it glides into your ears. “Never had a real man treat this pretty pussy right huh?” His fingers connect with your aching body again. “Just those stupid college boys who don’t know the first thing about makin’ you feel good. Right?” 

All you can do is moan as one of his fingers sinks into you, pumping it slowly at first while his other hand rubs your clit in small circles, each movement sending shocks through your body. “Asked you a question angel.” 

“No Joel, holy shit!” You try to suppress a moan as he slips another finger into your soaked center. “I’ve never had someone treat me right.” He pumps his fingers in and out of you faster,  the squelching noise it makes is downright pornographic. 

“Don’t worry darlin, I’ll show you what you’ve been missin.” Your eyes never leave each other as he lowers his head, removing the finger on your clit to be replaced by his warm tongue, gently licking up and down, side to side, sucking it into his mouth softly as his digits continue inside you. 

One of your hands raises off the table to grab a fistful of his chocolate brown hair, the vibration of his moan around your clit from the tug of his hair pushes you closer to your release. You watch in awe as the muscles in his forearm jump with each stroke in you. You can feel the knot growing tighter and tighter, threatening to snap any second. 

He pulls his mouth away from you just for a second. “Come on baby, I know you're close.” His breaths out to you, quickening the pace of his hand. “Let go for me darlin.” He immediately returns his mouth to your clit and you follow his instructions. 

You feel your wall clench around his fingers as you come, your legs start to shake and you're screaming so loud you’re sure if your dad was home he would have heard you but at this moment you don’t care. His mouth pulls away to lessen the over stimulation as his fingers continue to fuck you through your high. 

“That’s it, shhh, good girl.” He whispers while his hot breath tickles the skin around your ear. As soon as your legs finally stop shaking, he removes his fingers from you, immediately popping them into his mouth to clean them off, a deep groan from his throat as he does. 

You suck in deep breaths through your nose as you watch him walk down the hall to the bathroom to grab you a towel. Wiping your thighs clean from your shiny slick once he returns. 

You peel your legs off the wooden table, standing to redress yourself while Joel puts the soiled towel away to be washed at a later date. 

Once clothed and legs steady, you walk to the large window that looks right across the street to your empty house. You don’t know what he wants, if he wants you to stay or return home. The thought of being in the house alone with your thoughts all night makes your stomach turn. 

You sense his presence behind you before you actually see him. His hands creep up to rest on your shoulders, squeezing them slightly, releasing some of the tension you tend to keep there.

“I should uh, probably head home. Right?” You say to the window pane, not turning to look at him.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “Sure darlin if you want.” His hands slide off your shoulders, falling down by his side. “Let me walk ya home.” 

So he does, well he starts to, until you both notice the beautiful oranges and pinks the sun has painted in the sky as she starts her descent for the night. You both stand for a moment in the middle of the quiet suburban road, watching the puffy golden clouds dance across the darkening sky. 

“You ever stargaze?”

“No Joel, can’t say I have.”

“Want to?” 

“Would love to.”

He lays out a blanket on the plush green grass in his backyard, laying down on one half, leaving enough room for you to do the same. You lay next to each other like that for a long time. Watching the sunset fade and slowly be replaced by the dark night sky. 

By the time the stars emerge from the darkness, your head is on his shoulder with his arm draped over your chest as he points out the different star formations and planets you can see. 

“Oh wait!” You point up into the sky. “Isn’t that the big dipper?” 

“Yeah but it’s actually part of a bigger constellation called big bear.” He tries to show you the other stars that create it, but you’re just proud you found the big dipper. 

“Didn’t know you knew so much about that stars”

“Sure you remember Sarah’s space phase.” He chuckles slightly as he speaks. “Girl wanted to know everything ‘bout the stars, so I tried my best to learn it for her.” 

You turn your head to look at him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes bounce around to each bright shining orb in the sky. God he looks beautiful. 

You stay like that for a while, enjoying the silence the darkness brings. Normally this time of night is the worst for you, the racing thoughts and not many people being around to distract you. But you feel at peace and looking over at the steady rise and fall of his chest and the way his eyelids are starting to stay closed longer between blinks,  you can tell he feels the same. 

You turn to lay on your stomach, your hand reaching up to graze the short black stubble on his jaw. “You look exhausted, I should probably leave you to get some rest.” You start to sit back on your heels before his large hand wraps around your wrist. 

He quickly lets go when he realizes how desperate that must have looked, but you liked it, makes you feel wanted. 

“Gets pretty lonely here at night.” His dark brown eyes seem to twinkle from the light casted by the stars so far away. You know this is his own little Joel way of asking you to stay, since he would never say it outright. 

“Yeah, pretty lonely at my house too.” You flash him a small smile with your response, your own way of saying you would love nothing more than to spend the night with him.

His hand reaches up to cup your face, his thumb grazing over your lips. Your eyes meet his, never looking away as you part your lips, allowing him to slip his thumb into your mouth. You slide your tongue against the pad of his finger, sucking it softly, he pulls it out of your month with a pop. 

With that he stands up, quickly scooping you up with an arm under your knees and one supporting your back. You can’t help but let a giggle fall from your lips as he makes his way into the house. His scent fills your nose as you place tiny bites all along the side of his neck. 

“Mhm, girl you better be careful with that.” You lick a small stripe up his neck until you reach his ear, nibbling softly on the soft skin of his lobe. 

“What if I don’t wanna be?” You whisper into his ear. A small groan leaves his throat as his pace quickens to the bedroom, practically taking the stairs two at a time.

He pushes his bedroom door open once he reaches it, he rushes to lay you down on his soft mattress. He takes a step away from you and the bed, leading you to sit up slightly. 

“Joel what's wrong?” You can tell from the large bulge in his pants that he wants this just as much as you but you can tell he's second guessing it by the guilty look painted on his face. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” His hand rubs across the back of his neck, a thing you know he does when he's unsure of something. 

You push yourself off the bed, taking a few steps to move closer to him, he watches with wide eyes as you pull your top off your body, throwing it in the corner of the room. “I want you Joel.” You reach your arms back to unclasp your bar, letting it fall to your feet. “I want you so bad.” 

His hands immediately reach out to grab your breasts, running his thumbs over your hardened nipples. A small groan leaves his mouth as he pushes you back on the bed, your hands play with the seam of his shirt before he pulls it over his head, thrown into the pile with your discarded clothes. 

Within seconds you are laid out in the middle of the bed completely naked with Joel positioned in between your legs, his hand around the base of his large cock as he runs it through your folds, gathering some of your slick. You’re a little nervous because you’ve never been with someone as big as him. He can tell. 

“I’ll go easy baby.” He positions himself right at your entrance but he doesn't push in right away, not until you nod your head, letting him know that you are ready. He pushes into you fully, your walls immediately clench around him, eliciting a deep moan from his throat. He doesn’t move for a second, letting you get used to his girth. 

Once the sting of him stretching you out subsides slightly you tell him to move. He pulls out half way and pushes back into you slowly, trying to take it easy with you. He doesn’t know that not the way you like to get fucked, but he will learn in time. 

“Faster, Joel please.” 

“Are you sure babygirl?” 

“Please!” Your voice comes out a lot more whiny than you anticipated. You watch as a devilish grin forms on his lips. 

He pulls all the way out of you before snapping his hips forward, smashing back into you at a much faster pace. Your back arches from the intensity of the new pace he is setting. His hands grab onto the side of your hips in an attempt to keep you still with each of his thrusts. The room is filled with your moans, his grunts, and his balls slapping against your ass. 

Your head falls back against the bed for a second before one of his hands grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Eyes on me baby.” You can feel the tension forming in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter with each stroke of his cock in and out of you. You struggle to keep your eyes open as he moves his hand from your face to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. 

“Fuck baby, I know you’re close.” His voice wavers slightly, along with his thrusts growing a little sloppier, still keeping up with the bruising pace you asked him for. Your hands grab at his biceps, bound to leave crescent shape indents in his skin. With a couple more thrusts you come undone underneath him and gushing around his cock, another large moan bubbles up from his throat as your walls flutter around him. 

“Mhmm good girl,” He fucks you through your high, chasing his own. “Good fucking girl.” A couple more rough and sloppy snaps of his hips, he pulls out of you quickly, pumping himself a few times before coming all over your lower belly. 

He rolls over next to you, both taking a moment to catch your breath. “That was um, the best time I’ve ever had.” 

A soft chuckle falls from his mouth. “Cause I’m not some boy baby, I know how to treat a lady right.” 

“I’ve never come like that before.” You say still staring at the ceiling, trying to regulate your breathing. You hear another chuckle from next to you, when you turn to look at him he has a large grin plastered on his lips.

You finally push your body off the couch to make the trek to the bathroom, taking a moment to find your balance on your trembling legs. You take a glance back at him and see the large wet spot that formed under your body. “Oh shit,” You point to it. “I'm sorry about that.” 

He quickly shakes his head after looking at it. “No honey, I love seein’ that. Means I did a good job.” He quickly winks at you as you smile back at him, turning to walk to the bathroom to pee and clean yourself up. 

When you’re done and walk back into his bedroom, his body is under the covers, taking up one whole side of the bed. On the other side there is one of his many cotton t-shirts nicely folded and placed on top of the pillows. “Figured you didn’t have pajamas.” You smile at the sweet gesture, but you know he also wants to see you in his shirt. 

You slip under the covers, almost suffocated by the smell of him from his shirt, the room, the blankets, and the fact that he keeps inching closer and closer to you. He finally wraps his arms around your body, pulling you closer to his bare chest. You try to take as many deep breaths as possible so you could remember every detail from tomorrow night when you’re alone in your bed. 

You nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck as he places soft kisses into the top of your hair. You mumble a thank you into his skin, not sure if he could really hear it or not, but assuming he did as he pulls you impossibly closer and rubs his hands over the soft skin of your back, quickly lulling you to sleep. 

The soft light pouring in from his windows stirs you awake, along with the sounds of dishes clattering together from the kitchen. You search for your phone to try and check the time, realizing that you haven't seen it all night. You swing your legs over the edge of Joel's bed, grab a pair of his boxers to wear as shorts, and make your way down the stairs and into the kitsch. You find Joel whisking a couple eggs in a bowl, humming softly while he cooks. He doesn't hear you as you approach so when you snake your arms around his waist he jumps a little, immediately relaxing when he realizes it's you. 

“Figured I would make some breakfast for you darlin.” 

You stretch on your tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the cheek, the stubble scratching your nose a little. “Thank you Joel, but you didn’t have to.” 

You realize him and turn to look for your phone, asking him if he has seen it at all, receiving a shake of his head. You check in the bathroom, the dining room, under the table, before finally finding it in his yard on the blanket. You turn it on to see multiple texts from your dad last night.

Made it to the hotel safe. Love you. 

Conference went great, kinda boring. Love ya. 

Then one from this morning. 

Second conference got canceled, be home way earlier than I thought. GPS says 9:15. 

Your heart starts to race as you look at the time, 9:12. You quickly run back into the house and into Joel's room, gathering all your clothes in your arms. 

“Everythin’ alright?” You hear him call out from the kitchen. 

You almost fall as you sprint back down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Really gotta go, dads almost home.” You try to explain in between breaths as you make your way to the door. “I’m really sorry about breakfast.” You can't quite make out what he says as you book it out the door and across the street to your house. 

You hear the rumble of your dads truck pull in the driveway just as you close the front door behind you. Realizing you are still in Joels t-shirt and boxers and do not have enough time to change, you quickly decide to go into your bedroom and hide under your blankets.  

When you hear his truck door shut but nothing else you look out your window to see your dad walking across the street to Joel’s house, then seconds later receiving a call from him. The worst thoughts flood your mind. Did he see me running across the street? In Joel's clothes? Is he going over there to beat him up? 

You hesitantly pick up the phone, squeaking out a hello as you put it up to your ear. 

“Hey hon, Joel invited me over for breakfast, said you were already over? Where’d you go?” You can practically hear Joel chuckling in the background.

“Oh, um, oh yeah. I just wanted to change real quick. I’ll be right over.” 

Immediately after ending the call with your dad, you get a text from Joel. 

If you just waited a sec I would have explained and saved you all that running.

whatever, jerk. 

Just get your ass back over here and eat these eggs would ya? 

prev | next

[savinghorses]

RIPPING UP MY ENCLOSURE YOU WRITE SO PRETTY AND I LOVE U RAHHHHHHHH

[kteague]

soft!Frankie Morales talking you through an orgasm - that’s it, i need this man biblically.

“nice and slow baby”

“shhh. i know, i know. you can take it, you always do.”

“I’ve got you baby, I’ve always got you”

“let go sweet girl, i’m right here”

“s’good for me”

“you did so good baby”

LISTEN! All I'm saying is that If he's talking that softly to a helicopter that ain't even his usual one, then imagine how much more soft, tender, and sexual he's saying those phrases to the love of his life as he's buried inside of her and fucking her deep!! So you're definitely right, anon!!

[msjarvis]

[savinghorses]

would you be a subscriber of nicksdick

i have the top tier subscription !! i’m his biggest fan !

[savinghorses]

my boyfriend wanted to eat me out, so of course i agreed....but he could even find the clit

he was literally licking my thigh for half of the time 😒

i can teach him how to eat cooch if u want !!

[savinghorses]

How much for the ballsack lookin demon crotch goblin

MY SON IS NOT FOR SALE THANK YOU