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milla-frenchy · 5 hours

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I rarely read pregnancy fics, but the sentence“ he’s going to be a father again” grabbed me. I was drawn into this story. The conversation between Joel and Tommy is perfect. I like the way you described Joel, his fears. I loved it ❤️

flutter

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner.

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. ��Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair.

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?”

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten.

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home.

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains.

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

#jmrecs #jackson!joel #pregnancy #joel miller x reader

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milla-frenchy · 5 hours

Text

Thank you 😏🙏

Owned

354 words | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Warnings: 18+ mdni. age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, possessiveness, piv, creampie a/n: Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕

Masterlist

***************

“Fuck…spread your legs for me. Yeah, just like that. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel was holding your knees on either side of your head, hands resting on the back of your thighs, as he was thrusting in hard and fast. His gaze was down at your pussy taking his big cock, splitting you in two, and sometimes your mouth could barely make any sounds other than moans.

“Daddy…”

“Yeah, baby girl? Talk to me. Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to ruin my cunt, daddy…”

“Fuck…I'm already holding back from sending my load baby…this little pussy is squeezing me so tight.”

He sped up slightly, to give you what you wanted and gritted his teeth, frowning.

“That’s what you wanted, baby girl? Gettin’ your little cunt fucked like a good little slut?”

“Yes, daddy…just like that.”

“Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“You, daddy. It’s yours.”

“And when he fucks you, whose pussy is that?”

“Still yours. Only yours. Always.”

He growled, as if it was turning him on even more, as he was still thrusting, even deeper and harder than 10 seconds before.

“Fuck, fuck. Touch yourself, baby girl. Not gonna last. Come on my cock.”

You slipped your finger into his mouth for him to lick it. He looked like a wreck. His curls falling to the side of his face and his sweat was sliding down them.

Your finger twirled over your clit, your mouth parted in pleasure.

“He fucks you like that?”

“No, daddy. Not even close.”

“Good. Come on, baby, come for me.”

And you did as he asked. Like you always did. Responding to his every whim as he responded to yours. Your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter, pulsing on him.

“Oooooh…baby girl…fuck yeah, just like that…Damn I’m gonna come, baby…Gonna fill this pussy. My pussy…Oh god….” He didn’t stop talking even when his cum covered your walls, and you grabbed his cheeks to kiss him.

Your tongue slipped into his mouth, and you wondered when you would finally dare to break up with his son.

***************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

#thank you 💕💕💕#comment rb #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal

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milla-frenchy · 6 hours

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Damn, so happy to read this fic again 🫠🫠🫠

The ending 👌

Put It In, Coach

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Joel Miller x f! Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: you are an 18 year old high school senior on the cheerleading team, and Joel is the beloved and successful football coach. He helps you with some stretching after practice.

Warnings: SMUT!! The girthiest age gap (18 & 56), consensual but extremely unethical sexual relationship, pervert Joel, power imbalance, dubcon (due to said power imbalance) but I assure you reader is of legal age and enthusiastically consents. piv, oral (m receiving) fingering, dirty talk, semi-innocent reader, blackmail, creampie, twist ending, possibly dark Joel.

A word from the author: This is a repost! Listen, I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. That is fine. Please don’t feel obligated to interact with this fic even if we are friends. It will be fine. I am posting this without making eye contact with anyone.

What is more important in a small Texas town than the high school football team?

Nothing, if you asked most anyone, including of course, head Lions football coach, Joel Miller- Coach Miller, that is. He had lead the team to numerous state titles, securing donations to the football program and filled display cases with trophies and framed team photos. Several former players had even gone on to play in the NFL.

Yeah, Coach Miller is a big deal.

You feel lucky when during your senior year the cheerleading team has to share practice space with the football team. Honored when Coach Miller helps your squad with conditioning. While the football team runs drills, he’s monitoring your time on the treadmill, checking your form during lunges, and helping you really lean into your stretches. He’s so helpful and encouraging. “That’s it, girls, get those knees up! Hustle!” He yelled as he watched you run by in your little shorts and sports bra. The one you took to wearing when you knew he might see.

Coach Miller knew a thing or two about cheerleading too, and he helped your coach to develop a cheer routine. You always blushed when his rough, steadying hands gripped your bare legs or circled your waist to help direct you. You saw how the other girls exchanged looks, but

Coach Miller had experience, he obviously knew enough about cheer. He knew what got crowds excited and lifted team morale. You beamed when he clapped and tucked his clipboard under his arm as you balanced on your teammates shoulders, one knee lifted high, both arms aloft, Pom-poms rustling in the hot Texas breeze. You felt butterflies that fluttered from your stomach down to your throbbing pussy. “Atta girl. You got it!” He praised.

The fawning newspaper articles never mentioned how handsome Coach Miller is. He’s probably in his fifties but you didn’t care. The other girls rolled their eyes, called him an old man. You liked the gray in his hair and beard. You liked the way his body was still so broad and strong, even if his belly was a little softer than it used to be. You liked the way his forearm flexed as he lifted the whistle to blow and get everyone’s attention. “Alright, boys go hit the showers, girls you stay and finish stretching.” Your cheer coach was busy with Megan and Lindsay and Tiffany, so you did your best to go through the regimen on your own.

You stood and twisted at your waist, first to one side, then the other. You spread your legs wide and bent deep to touch your toes, keeping your spine loose. You wanted him to see. “Ugh. He’s watching us.” You heard behind you. “He’s such a creep. He’s like a hundred years old.” “Yeah and you remember what happened with Monica. Nobody’s going to say shit to him.” You listened to the other girls talking, and tried to ignore them. Of course there were rumors about Coach that passed though the girls at school. They were probably just mad that he wasn’t giving them the time of day.

It was easy to forget the other girls and their hateful gossip when you saw that handsome man across the field. You stood and dabbed your shoulder. You winced and rubbed it, drawing the attention of Coach Miller. He jogged over, the muscles of his thighs rippling under his khaki shorts, belly rounding slightly under his royal blue polo shirt, and whistle bouncing as he made his way to you. “What’s ’a matter, sweetheart?” Care and concern painted his dark features, furrowing his brow. “It’s just my shoulder, Coach. I don’t know, it just is pretty sore.” You pouted up at him, giving him your best helpless face. He hummed and nodded. “You girls go on and get cleaned up, we’re done for today. I’ll let your coach know. I gotta deal with this.” He gestured to you, and you bowed your head sheepishly. The rest of the girls scoffed and muttered as they gathered their bags, shooting you looks of disdain and perhaps pity. Good riddance to them.

“Thank you Coach.” You said softly, bashfully. “C’mon, I got an ice pack in my office. Can’t let our rising star get hurt, can we?” You relished his attention. The hallways leading to his office were dark and empty, at 5:30 on a Friday, everyone had gone home. Once inside his office you sat on his desk, cluttered with papers and Gatorade bottles. You swung your legs and leaned back on your palms, letting the hem of your top ride up to expose a sliver of your belly. You hoped he would notice the way it was snug against your breasts. His office smelled like sweat and Lysol, but photos and framed newspaper clippings covered the walls. You used your phone to cover the framed photo on his desk of him and his wife and kid.

When Coach Miller returned with the ice pack, he found you innocently playing with the hem of your short cheer skirt. He hesitated, taking in your long, bare legs, smooth and pretty. He followed the line of them up to where they disappeared under that damn skirt, he wondered what he might find if he flipped it up. Wondered if you had on those little white panties he had seen once when you were practicing cartwheels with the other girls. He wasn’t stupid man. He knew that some of you young girls had little crushes on him. He'd be a liar if he said it didn’t stroke his ego or that he hadn’t jerked off more than a few times behind his locked office door. He would never, ever admit to a few consensual dalliances with a few girls. Always over 18, but always so young and beautiful and eager to please. Was it wrong? When they wanted him? Joel preferred to think of it as a perk of the job.

“Where’s it hurtin’, honey?” Coach Miller asked, his voice much more tender than he ever used with the boys on his football team.

“My shoulder, coach. It’s sore.” He made a sympathetic sound and slowly, carefully began to run his big hands over your arms. “Can you hold ‘em up for me? Good girl.” You held your arms out to the side and he palpated your shoulders, stepped back to look you over, checking for you didn’t know what. It didn’t matter. Your shoulder didn’t really hurt.

Joel frowned. “What is it coach? Is it bad? Your voice was small and wavering.

“No, darlin’ it’s just that I can’t get a good feel for your rotator cuff cause your shirt’s in the way.”

“Oh..”

“Well, here’s the thing, you know we got that big game comin’ up and your coach won’t let ya cheer if you’re hurt. Really would be best if I could just check it out. If nothin’s wrong we ain’t gotta worry your coach over it.” He winked at you conspiratorially.

“What if I just…I could just take this off.” You tried to sound casual. Like it was the most normal thing for an eighteen year old to be topless in a room alone with a 56 year old woodshop teacher/football coach.

“That’s what the boys all do, sugar. Ain’t a big deal, but I don’t want to make ya uncomfortable. I can just go get your coach and she can check ya out.”

There was no way you wanted your coach thinking you were injured. Not when you were gunning for a cheerleading scholarship. Missing any games now was out of the question.

“We don’t need to bother her, Coach Miller. I trust you.”

Joel nodded. “Alright, I’ll tell ya what- I’ll give ya a towel to cover up with. How’s that?”

“Sounds good, Coach. Just, could you help me unzip?” You gave him a little smile over your shoulder and held your hair out of the way for him to drag the zipper down.

Joel stifled a groan when he realized you didn't have a bra on under your little top. His cock was already beginning to swell in his shorts. You shrugged off the blue and yellow top of your uniform and clutched the tiny towel he handed you to your chest. “Is this good, Coach Miller?”

“Yeah that’s good. Real good. Arms straight up, now. Gotta check your rotator cuff.”

You did as he asked, and the towel slipped to your lap and he rubbed and squeezed at your shoulders, peeking over to catch a glimpse of your bare tits. They were so pretty, your hard little nipples making his mouth water.

“Good news. I don’t think it’s anything serious. A little massage and rest is probably all ya need. Couple ibuprofen.”

You thanked him, half heartedly bringing the towel to cover your chest again.

“Just one thing though, I noticed there’s not a current physical on file for you. You know, they take that stuff real serious. I know you’ve been workin’ real hard all year, I think you’ve got real potential and I’d hate for you to throw that away over a little form. If you want, I can give ya a quick check and it’ll be our little secret.”

“Gosh, Coach. You’d really do that for me?”

You knew damn well your physical was on file. You had taken it to the office yourself. It was something you’d been doing every year since you started playing sports in junior high.

“Yeah, won’t take but a minute. Don’t want ya getting in any trouble.”

You sighed gratefully. “Thanks Coach Miller. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Go on and hop up on my desk and I’ll make this quick and easy.”

He moved your arms one at a time, feeling for proper movement. He had you step on a scale and measured your height and weight, commenting that you were “full grown.” He had you bend forward and touch your toes, sliding his fingertips up the length of your spine to check for scoliosis, but taking the opportunity to admire the way your skirt rode up to expose just a bit of your panties, just barely brushing his hard cock over your ass. “Oops!” You dropped the towel, dramatically covering your tits with your hands, squeezing them together.

Joel looked at the form he was half-assing and scribbled on it, before sitting it aside and clearing his throat. “You uh, you do your regular self exams?”

“Self exams?” you blinked at him innocently, hiding the smirk that threatened to break through.

“Breast exams, sweetheart. Gotta make sure everything is like it’s supposed to be. Real important to check. Maybe I better show you how. Why don’t you lay down there and put your arms over your head for me?”

You did as he asked, lying back on his desk and didn’t bother hiding your lustful stare and he slid both hands up your rib cage to cup the underside of your breasts. He squeezed gently, kneading the supple flesh. “You’re doing great, baby.” You whined as he worked his way around your nipples, watching intently as they hardened. “Almost done.” He pinched at your nipples, making you squirm, he pulled gently, and rubbed them under his thumbs before squeezing your tits once more. “I think that’ll do.”

But he didn’t take his hands from you. He ran them over your chest, down your sternum, over your belly to the band of your skirt. He gripped your hips through the rough fabric, forgetting himself, or dropping the act. Either way, he found himself staring at the wet spot on your exposed panties. You bent your knees and rested your heels on the edge of Coach Miller’s desk. “Let’s see if he can resist this!” You’d thought, delighted with the way your plan was working.

Joel had his fair share of girls throwing themselves at him over the years, but you certainly took the cake. In half an hour you’d gone from a shy school girl to a sex starved slut right on his desk. It had been so easy, maybe too easy. Give you a little attention, some praise you weren’t getting at home, some touches like he knew the dumbass boys on his team weren’t going to learn about for another eight to ten years. Joel loved it when his plans worked.

“Something you need, baby?”

“Mhm. My backs kinda stiff. Maybe you could help stretch me. Get me loosened up.”

“This help?” Joel placed his hands on your knees and pushed them up, gently rolling your lower spine as he stood between your legs.he lowered them, letting your covered pussy brush against his rock hard cock, then repeated the motion, pushing your knees a little further each time.

“Feels so good, Coach.” You breathed, hands gripping the sides of his desk.

“Gonna open your hips up, you’re bein’ such a good girl.” He pushed again, letting your knees fall to the side, spreading you wide open. You could feel the way your panties clung wetly to your aching pussy, rendered nearly transparent by the slick that started seeping from you the minute you entered Coach Miller’s office.

Joel couldn’t play this dumb game with you anymore. He squeezed your plush thighs and pushed them down, dragging his thumb over the soaked gusset of your underwear. “I think ya got a bigger problem than a stiff back. Looks like you’re really hurtin’ right here. How long has this pussy been needin taking care of?”

Finally! “All day, Coach. I really need help to make it feel better.”

Joel’s finger slipped under the fabric to slide over your puffy lips.

“I got some other massages and stretches that’ll make this all better. Do you want that?”

“Yes, please! Please Coach.” You nearly shouted at him. If he didn’t do something soon you’d have to try to climb on top of him and just take what you needed. It’s not like you couldn’t see how hard his cock had been since the minute you got your tits out. He was a creep and everybody knew it, but he was too handsome to resist and if his bulging erection was any indication, well…

“Gotta get these panties off.” You lifted your hips for him to slide them off, then stretched your legs and demonstrated your flexibility by pulling your ankles down and holding your legs wide open for him. “Goddamn. Look at this. You do want this, don’t ya? Got so damn wet on my desk from just gettin your tits touched. Are all the girls on your team so slutty?” He marveled at how wet you were, slipping his fingers from your entrance up and around your clit, tapping your pussy firmly with the flat of his hand and groaning at the sticky slapping sounds.

His index finger teased at your opening while his thumb rubbed over your clit. Flames licked at your belly. “Just slutty for you, Coach. Need a real man.”

“Yeah? You need a real man?” He emphasized his words by sinking two thick fingers into you, “I’ll show ya what a real man can do for you, but you ain’t ever gonna be happy with a boy again.” He pumped his fingers into you and to your shock, dripped spit directly from his mouth to your clit. The slip made the sensation even more intense, and you squeezed his fingers as your orgasm crested. “Good, huh? Well, we ain’t done. I got a little more stretching for this tight little cunt.” You’d never heard anyone talk so crudely. You loved it. “Fuck yes, Coach, please. Please!”

Joel’s eyes snapped up from where he was watching his fingers disappear into your pussy. “Watch your language.” You whined and bucked your hips, eager for what you hoped was coming next. Joel worked a third finger into your pussy, the stretch stung and radiated, but faded into a pleasant feeling of fullness you’d never experienced before. Not with your inexperienced conquests.

Satisfied that he’d prepared you well enough, Joel hastily unbuckled his belt and let his shorts fall to the floor, weighed down by his wallet and keys. You watched as he tugged his turgid member, the biggest you’d ever seen. “C’mere. Get on your knees a minute. I know you know how to do that.”

“You want me to suck your cock, Coach Miller?”

He huffed at you, amused at your innocent act.

“Open your mouth.” You opened wide and took him deep, gasping and bobbing your head over his tip, hollowing your cheeks. You looked up at him and took him as deep as possible, relishing in the look of devastation that washed over him as you gagged and drooled.

Joel muttered something you didn’t hear before he pulled you off his cock by your hair. “Bend over the desk. Come on.” You did as he asked, and he slicked his cock with your abundant arousal, slapping the head on your ass a couple times, then held the base of his cock in one hand, and gripped your hip with the other. Slow and steady he pushed into you, taking his time until he was fully sheathed, hips flush against your ass. He waited there, leaning his forehead against your back and reaching under you to grab your tit.

“So fucking tight. Tightest pussy I think I ever felt. You’re not a virgin are you?” You shook your head. You weren’t a virgin. He was your third. He was your biggest and best. It would be hard to top him, you mused until he dragged his length out of you and slammed back in with more force. He did that a few times- pull out slow, slammin hard. Slow, hard, slow, hard. Then he switched it up, pushing your knee up into the desk he favored slow, deep strokes so he could watch how your pussy gripped him and sucked him back in, wetting his cock with your slick, so wet it dripped down to his balls.

He smacked your ass, leaving handprints on the unblemished flesh. “Fuck yeah, baby. Just like that. Taking this cock so good. Feel ya squeezing me so tight. Cock hungry little slut making me fuck her. Fuckin beggin for this dick.” He gritted filth through clenched teeth. You reached down to rub your clit, and let your hand wander further, feeling where your bodies joined, stretching your fingers to catch his balls as he pounded mercilessly into you. He smacked your ass hard, then reached up to hold your shoulders and his movements became uneven. “Coach, please! Please, come in my little pussy!” You’d heard that in porn and thought it sounded good.

Joel’s eyes squeezed shut tight as he let go, filling you with rope after rope of cum. You moaned, feeling him pulsing deep inside.

There was no kiss afterward. No hugging, no cuddling. Joel handed you the little towel to clean up with, Carter he watched his spend drip out of your wrecked pussy and onto the fabric of your skirt. He wished he had a picture of it. You wiped away what you could and put your shirt back on, your panties had disappeared and at 6:15 there was no time to look for them now. Coach Miller promised he would find them for you. You gathered your phone and backpack. He squeezed your shoulder as he walked you out to the main hallway and cleared his throat. “You know, if anyone found out about this, it could ruin your shot at any kind of scholarship. You might not even get into college at all. Now, I know you young girls make mistakes and I’m not going to tell anyone as long as you keep up your grades and your practice. If I hear about ya being a slut, though, I’ll have to inform the principal for your own good. Don’t make me do something we would both regret, sweetheart. Ya understand?”

“Yes, Coach. I understand.”

Joel breathed a sigh of relief. He had seven years until he could retire. He wasn’t sure how many more pretty little seniors would come sniffing around, but he thought maybe he should try to stop giving in to every doe eyed little slut that came along. Oughta try other ways of keeping his dick wet.

On Monday Joel was at his desk, drinking coffee, making out a supply request form for his woodshop lesson plan when his phone chimed. A message from an unknown number had sent an attachment. He squinted at the screen, and froze in horror when he saw his own face looking back at him, he was perfectly framed in the shot, a still from a video, and there you were, smiling at the camera underneath him. The message that followed was short. “See you after practice, Coach.”

#jmrecs #bat #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller fix #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal

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milla-frenchy · 7 hours

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ok fun story time

so about a year ago, someone came into my work and asked if we sold any mr potato head toys. we did, and she told me that they were for the octopus at the local aquarium, because she liked to put the pieces in the holes.

fast forward, i had made plans to go to the local aquarium with a couple friends who were coming into town. i emailed the aquarium and told them that, and asked if i could bring the octopus a new toy. they said yes, she would love a shape sorter.

i went this week, and octopus was sleepin on the day i came but the biologists at the aquarium grabbed my email so they could send me pictures of storm playin w her new toy.

THOSE PICTURES ARRIVED TODAY ENJOY SOME OCTOPUS

#octopus #wow

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milla-frenchy · 13 hours

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Thank you so much Bat 🙏❤️

Owned

354 words | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Warnings: 18+ mdni. age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, possessiveness, piv, creampie a/n: Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕

Masterlist

***************

“Fuck…spread your legs for me. Yeah, just like that. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

“Daddy…”

“Yeah, baby girl? Talk to me. Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to ruin my cunt, daddy…”

“Fuck…I'm already holding back from sending my load baby…this little pussy is squeezing me so tight.”

He sped up slightly, to give you what you wanted and gritted his teeth, frowning.

“That’s what you wanted, baby girl? Gettin’ your little cunt fucked like a good little slut?”

“Yes, daddy…just like that.”

“Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“You, daddy. It’s yours.”

“And when he fucks you, whose pussy is that?”

“Still yours. Only yours. Always.”

He growled, as if it was turning him on even more, as he was still thrusting, even deeper and harder than 10 seconds before.

“Fuck, fuck. Touch yourself, baby girl. Not gonna last. Come on my cock.”

You slipped your finger into his mouth for him to lick it. He looked like a wreck. His curls falling to the side of his face and his sweat was sliding down them.

Your finger twirled over your clit, your mouth parted in pleasure.

“He fucks you like that?”

“No, daddy. Not even close.”

“Good. Come on, baby, come for me.”

And you did as he asked. Like you always did. Responding to his every whim as he responded to yours. Your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter, pulsing on him.

Your tongue slipped into his mouth, and you wondered when you would finally dare to break up with his son.

***************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

#thank you 💕💕💕#comment rb #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel x reader

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milla-frenchy · 19 hours

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Yes 😏 Who wouldn't go back for more with these two? 🥵

The hounds of hell 2

Written with @aurorawritestoescape

4k2 | Javier Peña x fem reader x Steve Murphy | ao3 Summary: when you get reminded of the night you spent with Steve and Javi, you can’t help but come for more Warnings: 18+ mdni. semi public sex, masturbation (f/m), oral (f/m), threesome, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, degradation, piv, cum eating, creampies. No age specified

a/n: this is a contribution to the boyd-a-thon event for PCRF @toxicanonymity 🖤🐨

Kate's masterlist | My masterlist Part 1 | series masterlist

***********

For several days, you wondered what exactly had happened that night. You had fragments of memories, you knew they had fucked you, but without remembering all the details.

Part of you resented them for manipulating you, making you feel like you could trust them. Another part thought that you had been way too naive. And the last part made you touch yourself every single night, thinking of them.

A few weeks later, you finally went back to that bar, even if you didn’t know how you would react if you saw them. But they weren't there that night, nor the other ones. So you danced, drank, met people, other men. You had sex with some of them, but never got the thrill you’d felt that night, never had the thought that had struck you the next day -“it was the best fucking of my life.”

It was Saturday night and you were dancing, twirling, enjoying yourself in a crowd of people. Two hands rested on your hips, and you froze when you heard “hey, baby”, soft lips against your ear. You turned around, and faced Steve’s blue eyes, his self-confident smile, his blonde hair. It was slightly longer than the last time, messier.

“Don’t call me that, and fuck off.” The lack of memories of that night instantly made you act in a bitter and defensive way.

He pulled back and raised his hands, as if to say “ok, whatever you want.”

You contemplated leaving, but you convinced yourself that you didn’t have to. He could go if he wanted, but you’d stay. You bottomed a shot at the bar and then danced again. He seemed to have left. Later, you went into the bathroom, and as the door was closing, Steve slipped in and locked it.

“What the fuck?”

You barely had time to finish your sentence when he approached you, smiling. Not a mean or provocative smile. A smile that meant “I know you want it.” Fuck, did you want it? He already managed to make you doubt yourself.

His hands were on your hips and he tried to kiss you. You turned your head to the side, swerving him, and said “No, stop.” He looked at you and gave you that smile again. He had so much self confidence that it was indecent. He kissed your cheek, then moved down to your neck that he covered with soft, hot kisses, making your eyes roll back.

“Come on, baby, let me kiss you.”

He moved back up to your lips and just before kissing you, he looked deep in your eyes for a few seconds. You got lost in his gaze. When he pressed his lips to yours, you felt almost all your doubts disappear and you stopped pushing him away. His tongue was already brushing against your lips, as if he was asking for permission to slide it in. You didn't keep him waiting long. In a moment, your tongue was swirling against his. He moaned into your mouth, and you felt yourself gush. His hands shifted from your cheeks, to your breasts, then your hips. They brushed against your body, your dress, and you couldn't help but roll your hips towards him.

“Yeah…You want this cock, beautiful? Just like that night?”, he said, his forehead pressed against yours, so close that you could smell his minty breath.

“No…no, I don’t. Can’t even remember what you two had done to me.”

“You don’t remember?” he asked, staring at you with narrowed eyes. You shook your head.

“Lemme help you”, he smirked and slipped his hand between your thighs, pulled up your dress and caressed your folds through your panties.

“Damn…seems like your cunt ain’t forgot, baby…she’s already soaked.”

He kneeled and pulled down your panties, looking at your pussy for a few seconds before glancing up at you. You bit your lower lip, waiting for him to place his lips on you, there, in this dark bathroom. But he smiled and stood up, covered his thumb with your slick, and brought it to your clit. He rubbed it gently, while your eyes were locked, your breathing speeding up with every second. Keeping his thumb on your clit, he pushed two fingers in your pussy, making you moan. You rolled your hips towards his fingers, fucking yourself on them. You grabbed his shirt to hide your face, nuzzling his neck, being ashamed of breaking so easily for him.

“Fuck…I’m gonna…”

“Yeah, baby, I know. Come on my fingers, clench ‘em again. Even faster than in the car, fuck.”

He pressed his crotch against your hip, and you could feel his bulge. You knew he loved to show how hard he could be, how big his dick was. “Oh, fuck,” you whimpered, just before you came. He let you ride out your orgasm, his thumb resting on your clit, his fingers still buried inside you. Then he slowly removed them from your dripping cunt and licked them one by one, not taking his eyes off you and added “I remember everythin’, baby.”

Flashbacks started to come back to you. You saw yourself coming on their fingers, their tongues, their cocks.

Steve started backing up until he leaned against the opposite wall, less than four feet from you, and you watched him unzip his jeans and pull out his cock. He spat in his hand and started slowly jerking off in front of you.

“Show me your pussy, baby. Lemme see her.”

His words were a melody you didn't want to stop. You did like he asked, pulling up your dress for him. Your panties were still around your ankles. You bunched up the fabric in your fists, and held it around your hips. With your pussy offered to his view, his wrist began speeding up.

“Touch yourself a little. Yeah, just like that, shit…” Your clit was still throbbing under your fingers but you didn't want to stop. You wanted to see him cum. "Still sensitive baby? Yeah, bet ya are, came hard for me." You nodded, pushed a finger into your core and then brought it to your lips, tasting your wetness. He was jacking off his shaft fast now. “Shit. You’re so fuckin' hot. Ya like that little pussy juice? Yeah, I like it too…fuck…fuck…oh shiiiiit.”

His cum spurted out, some of it landing on the ground, and some of it onto his clenched fist. “Damn, you’re a naughty thing. And you ain't even drunk, baby…” he laughed, groaning, milking his cock to the very last drop. And he smirked, as his eyes sparkled.

He wiped his hand, moved closer to you, tucking his cock back in his pants, gave you a piece of paper and whispered in your ear, “Be at this address, tomorrow at 6pm. Javi and I will give it to ya good, if you’re ready for part 2.”

He wrapped his big hands around your neck in the most gentle way, and gave you a languid kiss which made your head spin. When he walked out of the bathroom, your pussy was clenching desperately, so you locked the door behind him, and got off a second time.

You had some doubts about coming to meet Steve and Javi but they were overshadowed by the need to be used by the men again.

Flashbacks of the night spent with them began driving you insane with lust. Especially after Steve’s skillful fingers coaxed a hardest climax out of you in the bar bathroom.

So the next day you went to Javi’s place. When Steve opened the door he immediately wrapped his arms around you and gently kissed your cheek.

“Here’s my baby,” he whispered in your ear, making your skin erupt in goosebumps. He led you to the living room where you found Javi sitting in an armchair. He nodded and gave you a little smile. Your clit twitched when his dark eyes glided up and down your body.

“Want a drink?” Steve asked, when you sat down on the couch. You agreed to have a beer and after getting it, he joined you. His hand was immediately on your naked thigh, lips tracing paths along your neck. Your core was buzzing with the anticipation of the night and you moaned when Steve’s hand slithered up to your heated center.

“Damn, Javi, our girl ain’t wearing any panties,” Steve said, not tearing his blown eyes from yours.

“Putita, (little slut),” you heard Javi mumble.

“You’re so fucking hot.” Your breath hitched when Steve’s thumb slipped between your folds and gently rubbed your hardening clit.

You moaned his name and his lips brushed yours as he began caressing your bud with feather light strokes. He was playing with you, winding up your arousal more and more until you were nothing but a trembling needy mess under his touch.

“Please…,” you whined and Javi chuckled.

“What do you need, baby?” Steve asked, his eyes finding yours while he was torturing you with his soft caress.

Javi leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and said, “Our little slut needs what she came for, Steve. To get fucked. Right, Hermosa?” You looked into his eyes and nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Say it, beautiful,” Steve whispered, pulling his hand away from your pussy and making you whine with need.

You didn’t care that it felt humiliating. On the contrary the fact that they had such power over you was turning you on even more. You’d do anything to be used by them at that moment. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “Please, fuck me.”

Javi smirked, adjusting his bulge, and Steve kissed your cheek before getting up, pulling you up on your feet and then lying down on the floor along the couch.

“C’mere, baby. Sit on my face,” he said, motioning for you to straddle him with his hands. You looked at Javi and he got up and stood behind you, his hands on your waist, “Don’t be shy, cariño, Steve’s gonna make you feel real good.” You felt his hands pulling up your dress until he slipped it off your body completely. Now you were absolutely naked in a room with two fully clothed men.

Steve moaned at the sight of you, “Fuck, c’mon, beautiful. Be a good girl and let me taste this sweet pussy.”

You bit your lip and kneeled down over Steve’s face. Javi sat on the couch and you saw him unzipping his jeans. You got mesmerized when he took his gorgeous cock out but suddenly Steve’s hands grabbed your hips and he pulled you down on his face. You felt his soft lips latch onto your throbbing pussy and whimpered when his tongue slid between your folds. He slowly licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, and began sucking on the bud making you arch your back and flutter your eyes shut.

“Look at this little whore, Steve. There was no need to get her drunk that night. ‘m sure she’d have jumped at the chance to be fucked by us.”

Steve hummed against your heat and the vibrations sent a new wave of pleasure through your body.

“More, Steve, please,” you pleaded, clenching his blond hair with your fist and rolling your hips getting desperate for a release.

You looked down and saw his eyes glint with mischief. Steve gave you a wink, pushed your folds apart with his fingers and flattened his tongue against your blooming pussy. He rubbed your clit and then slid down to lap at your crying hole.

“She’s sweet, yeah?” Javi asked Steve, watching him devour your cunt while his big hand was slowly sliding up and down his weeping cock. You licked your lips throwing a glance at it and Javi noticed.

“I think putita wants to suck on something big and juicy. Don’t you, cariño?” He asked as he got up and stood next to Steve and you. His cock bobbed in front of your face. Javi took it in his hand at the base and you looked up at him. He was towering over you, your eyes hazy with the pleasure Steve was giving you. Javi cupped your cheek and you purred into his touch.

“Open up, putita,” he said gently as his fingers pinched your chin and pulled it down, opening your mouth.

His cock was soft and hot on your tongue and you began slowly pleasuring him. You gently sucked on the tip first and then took him deeper, until it reached the back of your throat.

“Oh, I love this mouth,” Javi breathed out, tilting his head back. But soon his eyes were cast down again and he watched you work his cock and Steve devour your glistening pussy.

The man between your legs was relentlessly licking at your cunt, slurping and groaning against your center. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on the cock in your mouth and you kept pausing and just drooling around Javi’s stiff length.

“Fuck, Steve, what are you doing to her down there? She can’t suck my cock right, got too pleasure-dumb.”

Steve chuckled against your clit and you moaned loudly around Javi’s member.

“Am I eating you well, baby?” Steve asked parting from your pussy for a second and slightly biting your inner thigh. You glanced up at Javi, eyes glossy and blown.

“Oh, putita’s gone, Steve,” Javi laughed at your state and added, “I’ll have to do everything myself then.”

With that he took your head between his hands and started thrusting his hot cock into your mouth. He was gentle at first but the deeper he pushed his length into you, the rougher he was getting. Soon he was fucking your mouth in earnest, making you drool and gasp for air every chance he granted you, while Steve was bringing you close to the climax.

Javi dipped his cock into your throat as Steve swirled your clit with his tongue and you came undone, drowning Steve’s mouth with your slick and moaning loudly around Javi’s member.

“Oh, cariño, your mouth is heaven but I need to last,” Javi groaned, pulling you off his cock, “let’s get her to bed, Steve.”

“Lie down, and spread your legs for me,” you heard Steve command as soon as you stepped into the bedroom.

You got on the bed and spread them slightly, feeling shy.

“Spread them more. Show me that wet pussy.”

You spread your thighs further.

“I said more, baby.”

This time you used your fingers and parted your folds. You felt both uncomfortable with their predatory attitude and horny at the idea of what they were going to do to you next. They made no secret of their desire and hunger for you. You felt like you were leaking onto the sheets. Steve looked at you like at a piece of meat, his swollen cock in his hand, precum leaking.

“You see that, Javi?”

“Hard to miss it, she's dripping,” the man answered, stroking his cock lazily. “I love when they ruin my sheets. Come on, give her what she wants. Your cock. Right, Hermosa?”

You noded.

“Say it.”

“I…want your cock”, you said, looking at Steve only, that time.

He lay down between your legs, spread them with his knees, and slid his tip between your folds, one hand resting on your cheek.

“You’re gonna take this cock like a good girl?”

“Yeah…”

He thrust in slightly making you whimper, and your hands squeezed his biceps.

“Tell me how much you wanna get fucked.”

“I…I want you two to fuck me. Please”, you begged. “I can't stop thinking about it.”

“Yeah? Did you touch yourself, thinking about our cocks?”

“Yeah, a few times.”

“Putita”, Javi hissed through his teeth.

Steve kept thrusting in slowly, his hand holding your chin so you wouldn’t take your eyes off him while his thick cock was spreading your folds almost painfully, his other hand on your hip as leverage.

“Oh fuck…”

“Yeah, just like that. That’s a good girl.”

“I’m so fuckin’ hard. Blow me again, let’s use more of your holes.”

Javi slipped his tip in your mouth and you eagerly welcomed it. You didn't recognize yourself. You felt like only your senses were directing you, as you let Javi fuck your mouth, and Steve your cunt.

“Mierda, look at that slut. Can’t believe she came back for more.”

“Yeah, well…we fucked her good. And we’re doing it again. Look at you taking these cocks, baby…” Steve groaned, bottoming out. Your fingers dug into his flesh. Javi’s cock pushed into your throat just as Steve’s member was thrust in deep inside your core. You moaned softly, as much as Javi's cock would allow you to. Then he pulled back, leaving only the tip in your mouth.

“Lick the tip, Hermosa. I want you to taste me in your mouth, before I fill up your pussy.”

You kept sucking him, his precum flowing down your throat. “Damn, you’re a natural…one day, I’ll fill that throat too. But not today. Today we’re gonna fill your cunt and make you scream on our cocks.”

He was fucking your mouth again, slowly. You realized he was doing it at the same pace as Steve was fucking your pussy.

“Damn, I can see your dick in her throat, Javi.”

And Steve kissed your neck, there. Fuck, that was hot. They complemented it other well, like they had been fucking girls together for a long time. You wondered how many they had fucked before you. If they had fucked anyone else since that night.

“Fuck the side of her mouth Javi. Wanna see more.”

You looked up and saw Javi’s smirk as he did what Steve asked. Steve brushed his nose against your cheek, then placed his lips on it. Javi's cock created a bump that Steve was bound to feel under his lips.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you though and moaned.

Steve continued to slowly thrust in your pussy. He was brushing against your g spot with every stroke and you felt your orgasm building.

Javi pulled out his cock that was glistening with your saliva and sat in the chair next to the bed. “Two cocks slut”, he mumbled, thighs spread wide, his cock hard and weeping. He was watching Steve fuck you and a smirk didn't leave his face. He took his balls in his hand and squeezed them.

“She’s taking it good, damn,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” you whimpered.

“Oh…I ain’t talking about you, baby…I’m talking about her”, he replied, pulling away from you to point his chin at your pussy.

You cheeks started burning when you heard him.

“You’re gonna take our cum, Hermosa? You’re gonna let us fill you up?”

“Yeah, I want it.”

Steve turned your face towards him after gently grasping your chin between his fingers.

“You’re gonna look at me, baby, when you’re coming on my cock. Want to see your eyes roll back. Ok?"

You nodded. Your moans filled the room, barely drowned out by the sound of the bodies slapping against each other and your wetness around his cock.

“Fuck, I feel her pussy squeezing me…she’s gonna come. Come on, beautiful, yeah, just like that.”

Javi stood up and moved closer to the bed. “Can’t wait to stuff you too.”

Their words made you explode on Steve’s cock who grunted louder “oh fuck, fuck! She’s choking me so hard, man…I can’t…fuck” as he came deep inside your pussy, his eyes staring into yours.

You were feeling Steve’s cum fill you to the brim and spill out of your hole. You looked deep into his eyes and then glanced down at his mouth. In a second he kissed you, slowly and gently, his cock still twitching inside your overflowing pussy and you made out until you heard Javi’s velvety voice,

“My turn, lovebirds.”

Steve’s lips left yours and he gave you a warm smile before pulling out and getting off you. He sat in the chair and took the cigarette that Javi had left still burning in the ashtray.

Javi soon took his place between your thighs which made you feel like a fuck doll again. Not that you minded, you had come to be used by them and that’s what they were doing.

So you welcomed Javi’s stiff cock as soon as it nudged your stretched hole and almost pierced yourself on it. Javi moaned when his length slid inside your sloppy core easily, like a hot knife through butter.

“Damn, Steve, she’s full of you. So wet and warm.”

As soon as he made one thrust, you heard your pussy squelch with all the cum inside and you averted your eyes from Javi to Steve.

“Oh, are you embarrassed, nuestra putita? (Our little slut). No shame in being a cum dumpster for a good man. Or two good men,” he chuckled and Steve laughed.

Your cheeks were burning but his words made you clench hard on his cock which didn’t go unnoticed by Javi and he continued, “So you’re gonna take it-”, he thrust in hard and slowly retraced his cock,”-like a good girl,” he groaned with another rough stroke to your pussy.

Then with one hand on the back of your neck and the other gripping your hip he started pounding into you. His piercing eyes on you, he watched your face twist with pleasure.

“You’re gonna come again, hermosa,” he said without a shade of question in his tone.

He got up on his knees, not pulling out, and continued fucking you.

You glanced at Steve who was still smoking in the chair, his big cock in his veiny hand.

Javi’s tip hit your cervix and you whimpered.

“You know, baby,” Steve said after taking another drag, “fucking you is the best, but watching you getting railed is a very close second.”

Then he put out the cigarette and walked up to the bed. He smiled at you and then his gaze slid down your sweaty, heated body to the spot where Javi’s cock was plunging in and out of your crying pussy.

“Look at your creamy soaked cock, Javi,” Steve murmured and gave himself a few strokes. He was already hard again.

Javi just growled in response, probably concentrated on not blowing his load just yet.

Your gaze was darting between Javi’s pleasured face and Steve’s big hand wrapped around his member and you licked your lips when a drop of precum beaded on the tip.

“Already thirsty, beautiful?” Steve murmured, coming up to your head. “Lucky for you, I’m hard again.”

He put one knee on the bed bringing his cock closer to your face and you lifted yourself on your elbows to reach it with your mouth. You didn’t understand why you were so hungry for them both but the desire was leading you relentlessly. You wanted your every hole to be plugged by them, ruined by them and were ready to give them all of you.

So you took Steve in your mouth and looking up into his blue eyes let him fuck your throat. He was careful, more gentle than Javi and you reveled in ecstasy watching his stomach heave, eyes get darker because of you.

Soon Javi’s cock made your pussy contract around him and you started coming. Steve, almost sent over the edge by your whimpers, pulled you off and moved lower on the bed pointing his cock at your lower belly.

“Aahh,” he moaned and his cock began spurting his pearly cum over your body. The load landed on your belly, mound and puffy folds and Steve stroked his cock till the last drop was on you.

You brought your fingers there and they danced over his warm seed, spreading it over your skin, gently caressing your clit using it as lube.

The sight of you playing with Steve’s cum made Javi groan and he started erupting inside you adding his cum to Steve’s.

Steve plopped on the bed next to you looking satiated while Javi’s cock was still pulsating in your pussy.

“Our good girl,” Steve whispered in your ear and tilted your head to kiss you. You were still making out when Javi pulled out his cock.

“Clean me up, Hermosa.”

You nodded and he walked on his knees up the bed, until your head was between his thighs. You lifted up your torso and licked all the salty cum off his softening cock.

“Balls too, sweetheart,” Steve whispered and you followed the command, feeling your pussy tingle again.

When Javi’s cock and sack were clean you slumped down on the bed and Javi joined you two with a cigarette between his lips.

“Thank you, beautiful,” Steve said before kissing you.

“Eres inceíble,”(you’re amazing) Javi praised you before taking a drag. You smiled at him, spent and satisfied, and then turned to Steve.

“C’mere, baby,” he told you and pulled you into his big arms. You two soon fell asleep, your head on his shoulder, and when Javi finished his cigarette he cuddled up to you from behind. That was the first night you slept with them until the morning.

*******************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

@littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring @iamasaddie

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#thank you 💕💕💕#comment rb #javier peña #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal #steve murphy #steve murphy x reader x javi peña #steve murphy x reader

241 notes · View notes

milla-frenchy · 21 hours

Note

Holy shit??? The dirty talk is so goooooood 😍🔥🔥🔥

Joel snarls and shoves Ezra back with a broad palm to his chest. "How 'boutchu see with your eyes and not with your hands?" He turns back to you. "She's mine right now, and I ain't gonna let you touch her 'til I'm done with her."

Joel 🥵🥵🥵

Ezra 🥵🥵🥵

The pill/ice cream 🤣🤣🤣

but pervy roller derby coach joel and seasoned derby girl fucking in joels truck after a bout when ezra finds them with the windows all fogged up… ofc he joins in

You fucking know it!

Roller Derby Coach!Joel Miller x F!Reader x Boyfriend!Ezra

tags: unprotected p-in-v, double creampie, Ezra and Joel being spiteful towards one another. praise, degredation, use of the word "whore" but in a sexy way

He wanted to offer you a personal congratulations after helping your Jammer get point after point, resulting in your team's win. 157 to 163. It was a close one and your offense is what made the difference. Joel lost count of how many times you knocked the opposing Jammer off the track, running them back and killing their spirit. He's surprised you still have any energy left after all that work.

But here you are in his truck with him, bouncing on his cock like it's nothing. You got nothing on but your sports bra and youre soaked in sweat with your gear airing out in his flat bed.

Then Ezra’s wandering around the parking lot outside the rink, wondering where the hell you are because there's an after party to go to. And he already smoked a couple joints with the referees, and you still hadn't appeared. Then he sees the foggy window, the way the truck is bouncing, and he can't help but creep closer. His whole body floods with heat when he sees your gear. He looks around, sees if anybody has eyes on him before opening up the passenger door.

"Shit!" Joel curses.

You both stop in a panic. Your hands gripping his biceps to stabilize yourself.

Ezra's all smiles. "You don't think she's done enough work tonight, Coach?" He chuckles at your silent, shocked faces. He climbs inside and shuts the door behind him. "Our superstar here requires appreciation. Not more strain on her supremely effective musculature." He crawls closer.

"How 'boutchu--" Joel begins.

Ezra wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss.

Joel’s hands are still tight on your hips. Watching Ezra's tongue meet yours makes his cock twitch and pisses him off at the same time. He grunts.

Ezra's hazy eyes slide over to Joel's after he pulls away from you. "How 'bout I what, Joel?"

Ezra chuckles and undoes his pants, pulling his hardening cock out. "Go ahead and fill her up good, then." He smirks and begins to stroke himself. "Patience is a virtue, and although I am far from a virtuous man, I have been known to wander briefly on the path of the principled." He breaths deeply through his nose, taking in the smell of sweat and sex. "A path more easily endured when enticed by heavenly rewards."

Joel rolls his eyes. "Does he ever shut the fuck up?"

Ezra chuckles again. "You best make haste, old man, before that little blue pill wears off and you go softer than an ice cream cone in the Fourth of July sunshine."

Joel smirks at Ezra and shakes his head. He turns back to you, his hands slide up your sides, grip your breasts through your bra. "You ever seen me take a pill?"

"No," you shake your head. You're so overwhelmed by the situation, you're surprised you were able to say anything at all. And Joel's strong fingers are working your chest, working the muscles in your hips and thighs.

"I don't need no pill," he says with a haughty grin, thrusting up into you. "I don't need her to ride me, neither," he adds for good measure. "I can make her come with my cock alone." He holds you still and you angle your hips slightly as his own hips jump in the seat. "Come on, baby. Show 'im how good this cock is. Come on, now."

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and dig your face into his neck, moaning and keening with every strong thrust. You hear Ezra moaning, too. You turn your head to the side and see him panting, biting his lips. He goes from jerking himself off to squeezing his cock at the base and shaking it, staving off his orgasm with a desperate look on his face. It's all so much, you're sent over the edge--your orgasm barely noticable amidst Joel's relentless assault. How can you come down when everything around you is still building and escalating?

"Gonna fill this pussy up, now," Joel groans. His meaty claws close and spread your asscheeks as he begins to grind into you.

You try to remind yourself to breathe as you squeeze him tighter, whimpering and panting.

"Gonna give you all this come," he groans again and you feel a rush of warmth inside of you.

"Come here, baby," you hear Ezra speak up. "Lemme feel that." And before you know it, you're in Ezra's lap. His cock slides readily into yours and he pants and moans pathetically. "Oh fuck, oh shit, oh shit, baby. That's so good." His hips are barely moving as he holds you close against him, but the squelch of your messy pussy is loud. "Mmmm-that's so good. that's that good shit right there. Oh fuck, baby. Gonna fill you up, too. Mmhmm--gonna give you that sloppy cunt, huh? You like that, baby?" His eyes go wide and you're locked in, nodding and agreeing to whatever he says. "You like bein naughty? You like being filthy?"

At this point, it doesn't matter what either of them say. You'll agree to just about anything that comes out of their mouths--and their cocks.

"Fuckin filthy," he mutters with a snarl and brings his hand down to your ass with a harsh, solid slap. "Fuckin filthy whore. Nnnngg---" He comes inside of you.

You feel dizzy. Spent. Tired. Dazed. You should probably hydrate soon. And you wonder if anyone else on the team is looking for the three of you. You hope Joel has some napkins somewhere in his car, but you're not too worried because you have a pack of wet wipes in your gear bag. You never thought you'd use them for something like this, but... so it goes.

No one suspects a single thing at the after party. You throw back a few shots with your teammates and leg wrestle on the bar floor. You dance to the salsa music someone is playing on the juke box. You consider doing those pelvic floor exercises you saw on youtube once.

------------

a/n: I love life and I love being alive.

#jmrecs #ezra #rad #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou hbo #joel miller x you

83 notes · View notes

milla-frenchy · 22 hours

Text

Thank you so, so much 🥹🥹🙏❤️

Breathe (SMBU part 5)

4k9 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller x raider Series summary: you’ve been kidnapped by raiders, Joel is their leader. Women who don’t “behave” are locked in a place you call “the shithouse”. You live in your own house, “freely”. You and your roommate, Vic, became girlfriends. Joel, Tommy and the guards have free use of the women in the camp, while respecting Joel's strict rules. Chapt summary: Joel wants to make things clear, if you ever decide to oppose him again. Him and Tommy use you for an "initiation" Warnings: 18+ mdni. Dead dove. Dark - noncon (captivity, threat) / dubcon Gangbang, dvp, oral (f/m), spitting, spanking, rough sex, degradation, praise kink, size kink, piv, rimming, anal, creampies, angst a/n: Heed the warnings. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, do not pursue reading. I don't condone any of this. Thank you @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for beta-ing 💕🫶 The Prodigy - Breathe | playlist | ao3 | series masterlist

Main masterlist - Part 4

The next morning while you and Vic were still sleeping, Joel brushed your cheek to wake you up. He asked her to go to her bedroom then changed your bandage gently so as not to hurt you, asking if it was painful. He placed medicine and bandages on the dresser, and left saying he was letting you rest. You didn't see him or any guards for two days, until one of them came and told you to follow him. You tensed up when you approached the shithouse, but you didn’t ask why you were there. You knew it was pointless, the explanations would come in due time, probably from Joel, not from a guard. You approached one of the bedrooms and you heard grunts and moans. Your discomfort grew.

“Stay here,” he told you, after letting you into the room. The smell was terrible. Still made of cum and piss. You tried to look away as she tried to catch your gaze, silently begging for your help. You wanted to cry knowing there was nothing you could do for her. Nausea seized you. Three guards took turns between her thighs. Tears ran down her cheeks but there was nothing human in these men’s eyes or words. They were taking, taking, taking. Raping. Feeding on her fear as much as her body. The mattress was even dirtier than the first time Joel had brought you there, the day you had to choose your fate.

When all three had come inside her, they passed by you, staring at you from head to toe and you placed your hands in front of your chest as an illusory protection. Once gone, you moved closer to her after grabbing a dirty blanket from the corner of the room to cover her.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, I’m sorry.” She was crying and was ashamed, as if it was her fault. You hated them. The door opened and Joel entered.

“Having a good day, Julie?”, he asked.

You hated him now, and he saw it when your eyes met. He grabbed your elbow and led you out of the room.

“You’re gonna get her killed.” You were so shocked that you were shaking, barely managing to keep your composure. You hoped not to show him but your guts knew better than your mind. This man felt the slightest emotions that emanated from a person, and he used them. Whether to make them feel bad or good, depending on what he wanted. He was way too good at this, and it was probably why he was still alive, running raiders camp in the lost world.

“Getting fucked ain’t gonna kill her.”

“Come on, Joel! She is poorly nourished, probably has lots of deficiencies and perhaps an infection. Not to mention a psychological damage. Have you really lost all humanity?”

You were trying not to cry. You imagined far too easily how you could have been in her place.

“You know I don’t. You're still there”, pointing with his chin at the house where you lived. “In your pretty bedroom. With your pretty girlfriend.”

The way he said it made you shiver. You showed him your bandaged hand, to make him think about you, rather than her.

“What’s your point? You think those guys, the one that railed her, wouldn’t have done worse?”

“What do you want me to say? That you're less of an asshole than them? Still an asshole to me.”

You wondered if you were going too far but you were too upset by what you had just witnessed. “Why did you show me this? Those guys? You’re gonna threaten to send me there again?”

“No. No I won’t. We both know it wouldn’t work.” You looked at each other, waiting for the other one to speak. He spoke first.

“You think you have leverage on me, that I love your pussy too much to throw you to these men. And maybe it’s true. But now I have leverage on you too. I know how much you care about her. So if you piss me off again she’s gonna be thrown here and fucked an entire day by these guys. To teach YOU a lesson. She doesn't need one, she knows her place.”

"You disgust me."

“Oh, baby. You hate me now, but you love my cock as much as I love your cunt. You may have forgotten it for now, but you’ll remember it when you’ll moan, bouncing on it. Go back to your house now, lesson’s over.”

You insulted him in every possible way in your head, while he looked at you with his arrogant smirk. Fully aware of what was on your mind. Your heart sank thinking about Vic, and you went straight to your room, hoping that sleep would make you forget everything else.

Footsteps woke you up in the middle of the night, just before a guard entered your room and asked you to follow him. It was unusual. When one of them wanted to fuck you at night, he would do it in your bedroom and then leave. As if they wanted to leave their scent in your bed. You were even more surprised when you saw that he wasn't taking you to the fuckhouse. Or the shithouse. For a moment you couldn’t help but be afraid that Joel would “teach you” another lesson there.

The guard led you to a house you had never been in and knocked on the door. You heard Joel shoot “come in”. The man closed the door behind you, and Joel told you to go upstairs. He was lying on a bed, in jeans and a t-shirt.

“Is it…?” you started to ask.

“My bedroom, yeah.”

You looked around. The furniture, the way the room was organized. Everything was clean and tidy. You looked at the window, illuminated by a nearby lamp. Pink, blue and purple paper butterflies were hanging there, moving with the breeze that brushed against them. Everything was minimalistic in his room, and this childish touch of color stood out from everything else. You turned to him with a confused expression and he took a moment before responding.

“A reminder of my daughter.” A veil formed over his eyes. Your heart sank when you heard this confession. With those words, you suddenly realized two things. He had experienced a loss that broke his heart, and you had a special place for him. A part of you had already known it, but now you couldn’t deny it anymore. And somehow, it complicated things for you. From the beginning, you wanted to hate him. But your heart wavered because of Joel's behavior. You knew you were suffering Stockholm syndrome, you knew that your instincts were doing what they could to help you survive, at almost any price. But it wasn't just that.

And now, you didn't know why or how, but this special place you had, was there. Even if he was capable of acting like an asshole, to fuck you with three other guys or to throw you out to all his men. Or to cut your fucking pinky. But he decided to tell you that and your heart was racing. His constant hot and cold behavior was driving you crazy.

“How’s your finger?”

“Great, for a cut off one.”

It made him smile. You, not so much.

He stood up and came up to you, and surprised you again when he asked if he could hold you. You considered saying no to him, but that wasn’t what you wanted. Even if you hated yourself for it. So you nodded and he took you in his arms, and for a few minutes your body relaxed, enjoying the security he was offering you. Your body was lost in his arms, and you loved that feeling, that strength all around you. And not directed against you, for once. He took your chin between his fingers and lifted it towards him. His brown eyes, which sometimes turned black. But not there. And he kissed you. He’d done it before, while he was fucking you, but never like this. His lips were soft and warm. His hands slid down your body, brushing against your breasts, and you shivered. He removed your top and slid his hand between your breasts, rubbing their curvature. Then your pants, getting on his knees to remove them from your feet. Your panties, while he was still kneeling in front of you. He looked at your pussy and brushed your folds with his thumb.

“Lie down on the bed,” he said.

“Can you…” you stopped, not daring to go further in your request.

“Can I what?”

“Take off your clothes? I’d like you to be naked, like me.”

“Ok, baby,” he replied.

“Can I do it?”

He nodded, and let you take off his t-shirt, pants and boxers. He was barefoot.

“Thank you”, you breathed out, before going to lie down. He knelt at the foot of the bed, sliding you over to him. He was calm. Different from the other times when he had fucked you alone. As if he was less harsh. As if he was human, at least a part of him. The emotions were so strange in that new world. And even more so when you were in captivity. Used.

When he placed his lips on your pussy, you forgot the rest. His tongue brushed against your folds up to your clit, before his lips gripped it, sucked on it, kissed it.

“Open up for me,” he said.

You folded your legs further, resting them against the bed. He spread your folds with his hands and spat on your clit then on your folds, before sliding his thumb on your delicate skin. “Joel…” you whispered. He didn’t respond, preferring to slide his tongue into your pussy, groaning between your thighs. Fucking you with it and collecting all your wetness. Digging as far as possible. His thumb twirling over your clit. Sometimes he would let his saliva flow onto your clit again. The feeling of it flowing over you, before he spread it with his thumb, electrified you.

“Good girl,” he said, just before he moved his tongue up to your clit and buried two of his fingers in your pussy. His other hand was on your stomach, caressing your skin. As if he wanted to feel your stomach moving up and down, following the pace of his fingers or tongue. You felt your orgasm building. He spat one last time, knowing the effect it had on you. You came on his fingers, your pussy clenching on them. You heard him moan, tongue resting on your clit. Feeling its jolts.

Then he crawled over to you, a firm hand around his hard, thick cock. He nestled it at your entrance and pushed in without waiting. Eyes staring into yours, until you had to close yours, trying to get used to his size. He was spreading your folds with his cock, without forcing but without slowing down either. Until he bottomed out.

“I love to fuck you, you’re right”, he confessed in your ear. “Best pussy I’ve ever fucked, maybe. Takin’ my cock so fuckin’ good.” You whined against his neck.

“Told you, baby. You love my cock as much as I love your cunt.” You didn't want to think about it. You were there because they had captured you, because you were forced to let him, them, fuck you. As if he knew what you were thinking, he added, "yeah, since the beginning, you're getting off on being fucked by raiders."

There he was again, that Joel you hated. Your whole body contracted as you tried to push him off of you but he tightened his grip, continuing to fuck you slowly, growling in your neck.

And you hated it but you couldn't deny the heat that rose in your core, his cock rubbing against your g spot, and his lower stomach against your clit.

“Yeah, baby, just like that. You’re gonna come on my cock.”

“Yeah…I…fuck, Joel…”

“Come on, baby, I missed your cunt these last days. I missed stuffing you full of my cock.”

He wrapped his arms under your shoulders and pulled you close.

“Talk to me. Tell me what you feel.”

“I…I feel it coming. Growing in me. It’s so good, so warm. Why do you…Oh god…I’m gonna…Joel, Joel…”

“Why do I what?”

“Shit…why do you make me feel so good…”

He growled, and added “come on, baby, squeeze my dick. Come on it, then I’ll fill you up.”

You put your legs on his lower back, allowing him to fill you deeply, completely, as he was thrusting in just as slowly.

“Yeah, fuck, yeah…just like that baby.”

You dug your nails into his flesh as the wave hit you. He kept his body against yours, his cock buried deep inside you without moving, just to feel the jerks of your pussy on his cock. Until he came too, just by being clenched by your folds, and shot his cum deep inside you. He lay on top of you for a few minutes, then he withdrew. He told you the guard was going to take you to your house. You picked up your clothes, put them back on and left. On your way back home, you tried to stop your tears from falling. As if your heart expected that he would treat you differently, less harshly, after that moment. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. What you were thinking, how you could be so naive. He was just a raider.

The days passed. The multiple fucks too. With time you learned to keep yourself busy. Learned to sew, knit. Tinkering, refinishing furniture. The men brought back various things from their raids. Women were not allowed to leave the camp of course, to avoid the risk of them escaping. At first, time passed agonizingly slowly and you were bored, but refused to participate in activities with other people. To meet other people, chat with them. As if that would mean you were giving in. And then you broke down and took some seeds available in the warehouse. You planted them in the vegetable garden. It was the first activity you got involved in.

Loads of books were available and you had discovered many authors. The days were passing faster now. Sometimes you couldn't help but wonder what you would do if you could leave this camp. If you could survive, and how. If you would come across worse than the men there.

One day you noticed a new soldier. Young, early 20s. And your heart sank thinking of those young people who had only known that violent world. What would their life be like, in another universe? He wouldn’t become a raider, who learnt that women were only a resource. You hated this world so much. Several times you felt his gaze on you. A look still pure, despite everything.

“You like her?” Joel asked him.

“Well…she’s pretty.”

“Yeah, she is. Wanna fuck her? You had the talk with Tommy, right?”

“Yeah, but…I don’t know, I’ve never done that.”

“What, you’re a virgin?”

“No. But…I’ve never fucked a woman who didn’t want it.”

“Yeah well, it’s not a problem here, kiddo.”

You knew they were talking about you even if you couldn’t hear them. Joel wasn’t exactly discreet.

When a guard came for you that night and brought you to the fuck house, you knew what was going to happen. Joel, Tommy, and the young guard were already there, waiting for you.

“Hey sweetheart, always a pleasure to see you”, Tommy said, grabbing your ass and kissing you, as he always did. “This kid here has some things to learn about the camp. You’re gonna be a good girl and help him with that, ok?” As if you had the choice. You shrugged.

“But well, once he tastes this pussy, the others will seem bland to him.”

“Don’t be rude, Tommy. We have other good pussies to fuck. Her roommate, for example.”

They both sneered. “Assholes”, you thought. Tommy laughed, seeing your face. “Ok, sweetheart, let him taste your mouth.”

You knelt in front of the guard, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. He smelled good. He was semi-hard, looking down at you. Embarrassed. As if you were in a position of strength against him. You wondered how long it would take before it would change.

You took his cock in your hand and let your saliva run down his tip. Spread it with your thumb, then jerked it gently.

“I wonder how long it’ll take him to paint her face,” Tommy chuckled.

“No, no no. Not too fast, kiddo. We like to fuck them when they’re full of cum. Stuff her at least long enough to cum inside.”

You saw him blush. At least women weren't the only victims of their degradation, and somehow that made you happy. You moved closer to him and licked his tip gently, tasting his precum. He jumped and you smiled, before taking him in your mouth, continuing to jerk him gently. His cock was an average size, and you didn't need to get used to its thickness between your lips. You moved down his shaft, keeping your fist clenched at the base of his cock. Picking up the pace slightly, you began to suck him at a steady pace. His precum flowed down your throat, and you heard him moan.

“How does that feel, kiddo?”, asked Joel.

“Good, fucking good”, he answered. “And you…really fuck her, all of them, when you want?”

“Yeah. Day, night. You can fuck them alone, or with other guards. As you wish. But you do it the way I say. You make them cum, you don't hit them. You can slap them a little, we all like it when our cock is buried in their pussy, but not more than that. You have the ones from the shithouse if you need to let off some steam.” You stiffened when you heard him speak like that.

“Fuck…ok, ok.”

Your saliva ran down his shaft and you licked it.

“Oh fuck…ma’am…” Tommy and Joel snickered, hearing him.

“He’s cute”, added Tommy. The guard didn't even hear him.

“Wait, or I’m gonna come, they said I couldn’t do that uh…in your mouth.”

“Come lie down on the bed, baby. He's gonna fuck you. How do you want it, man?”

“All fours? Is that ok?” he asked, looking at you.

He was sweet and cute, and despite the incongruous situation you wanted to counterbalance the attitude of the two brothers.

“Of course”, you answered. You settled onto your hands and knees, waiting for him to come behind you. He knelt down and hesitated.

“But uh…what if I can’t make her come?”

The brothers laughed. You couldn’t imagine how he must feel, having to fuck you in front of both of them, as if it was something normal, while they didn’t even hold back their laughs. He was still so pure.

“It’s ok, kiddo,” Joel replied. “You’re young, you gotta learn. We’ll make her come, don’t worry.”

“Are you two gonna...make love to her, after me?”

“Oh yeah…my brother and I, we’re gonna make love to her. Don’t worry ‘bout that.”

The guard moved closer to you, placing his hands on your hips before grabbing his cock and sliding down to your entrance.

“Oh, fuck”, he said, when your pussy clenched against his shaft.

“Yeah, she’s tight. We still don’t know how she manages to take both of our cocks at the same time, in that tight pussy”, said Tommy.

“Two? Are you both fucking her at the same time? In the same hole?”

“In the same hole, yeah. Or one in her cunt and the other in her ass. Depending on what we want.”

“Oh, man…”

He started to fuck you. He was clearly not experienced, his movements were clumsy. But he wasn't abrupt, wasn’t hurting you. He spread your ass cheeks slightly, probably looking at your ring.

“Ever fucked an ass before?”

“Oh, fuck…I’m gonna…shit. Oh damn it was close. No, never.”

“You’re gonna love it. Even tighter than her pussy. Much tighter. The first few times you'll probably cum just from digging your tip into that hole.”

You heard him moan, and he came in your pussy, grunting, clinging to your hips.

“Ok kiddo, not so bad, but you gotta practice. Ever ate a pussy?”

“Yeah, well…a couple times.”

“You gotta learn to make them come that way. And when you’re really good at it, you'll make them cum by rubbing their clit while you’re fucking them. And then, just with your cock. Right, baby? She loves that.”

You blushed with this allusion to the night at his house, and the guard pulled out.

“Ok kiddo. Lesson number 2. You’re gonna watch us fuck her.”

“Come sit on my cock, baby. Hurry up, don't waste his cum, wanna fuck you through it”, Joel told you, spanking your ass. He sat against the headboard and you straddled him. His gaze was unfathomable, but it wasn't the same man who had fucked you missionary in his bedroom. He was good at compartmentalizing, much better than you. You grabbed his cock and impaled yourself on it gently. “Fuck”, you mumbled. He was thick, much thicker than the guard, and you needed to lower yourself onto it slowly.

“You missed my cock, baby?” he asked you with a smirk.

You dug your nails into the flesh of his shoulders, as you gradually sank onto his shaft.

He smiled and grabbed your shoulder, and added “I missed your cunt too. God, I love to fuck you when you’re full of cum.”

The guard’s cum helped you get used to his cock. Joel grabbed your ass with his hands and started bouncing you on his cock. You bit your lip. Tommy was sat in a chair by the bed, his dick in his hand, and said “you look so fuckin’ pretty bouncing on my brother’s cock, baby.”

He came closer, jerking off, and said “suck my dick, baby. Make it wet, we’re gonna need it.”

You wondered how he was going to fuck you, but whether it was in your pussy too or in your ass, you knew you had to make it easier for you. He slipped his cock into your mouth without waiting.

“Shit, yeah, you’re hot baby, suckin’ my brother’s cock.”

He had slowed down the pace to allow you to suck Tommy properly.

“Look at that Joel, the kiddo is already hard again.”

“Nice. You’re gonna have another lesson today. Sharing a cunt with another cock. I hope you’re not one of those who doesn’t want two cocks touching?”

“No…no I don’t mind.”

“Good.”

Tommy kept thrusting into your mouth, while Joel's hand on the back of your head accompanied your movements until he shifted it to stroke your clit with his thumb. His cock was rubbing your core, filling you perfectly, as his finger was swirling your clit. Every time they both fucked you, you always forgot at one point or another the situation you were in. Only focusing on your sensations, and theirs.

“Look at that, kiddo. She’s gonna come soon. She loves taking our cocks so much, like a good little whore. Right, baby?”

You nodded, your mouth around Tommy's shaft.

“Yeah she’s so good at this. Prettiest mouth and prettiest cunt. Taking us so well”, Tommy added.

Your pussy contracted more and more on Joel's shaft, as his thumb gave you what you needed, until you came all over his cock.

“There we go…you’re doing great, baby.”

Tommy pulled out of your mouth, holding your cheek with his hand while you came down from your orgasm. Joel pulled you towards him, leaning forward to offer you to Tommy, who was already kneeling behind you.

“Ok, baby. One more dick”, he said.

“Yeah, that's what you want, baby, right?”

You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. You were used to both of them taking you by now. Used to the feeling of your pussy spreading on both of their cocks. Even if it still stretched painfully, as the second one thrust in. And somehow, taking them both, that abandonment, strangely made you forget your life in the camp.

You felt Tommy’s hand on your hip, and the head of his cock pressing against the dick already inside you. Using it to slide his member in.

“Oh fuck, men…that’s so hot,” said the guard who had moved closer to watch.

“Relax, baby…let me in. Yeah, just like that. Good girl.”

Tommy's praise had always helped you to relax, to turn you on. Today, like any other day. He usually did it in a lighter way than Joel, perhaps less degrading.

“Breathe, sweetheart.”

You did as he said, breathing slowly until his tip slid into your pussy, spreading you completely. You whined into Joel’s neck.

“That’s a good girl”, he praised you.

“Look at you takin’ these cocks baby”, added Tommy as he continued to thrust in. “Yeah, just like that. One more dick in that cunt.”

They slid into you slowly, then gradually increased the pace. You heard them growl. Joel against your ear, Tommy on the back of your head.

“Gonna take my place after I fill her, man?” Tommy asked the guard.

“Yeah…fuck…Sure.”

“We’re stretching her good, damn…”

Tommy grunted and you felt his hot cum fill you, then some of it leaked out of your pussy.

“Thank you baby, another great fuck”, he said, kissing your shoulder.

You whimpered when he pulled out. Joel remained still and the guard knelt behind you again.

“Take it easy, don’t hurt her. Lean against my cock and slide gently.”

“Ok, sir”, he replied.

He rested his cock against Joel's, covered in Tommy's cum, and thrusted his tip in.

“Oh, fuck, she’s so tight.”

“Yeah, she is. That's good, uh? Come on kiddo, slide in. Slowly.”

The guard placed one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip, holding on for leverage. And they started to fuck you. Sometimes sliding together, sometimes alternating rhythms.

“You’re ok, baby? You’re taking our cocks so good, fuck…”

“Yeah, yeah…I’m ok.”

“You’re such a slut, baby…Always ready for more” you heard Tommy say.

“I’m…I’m gonna cum”, the guard whined.

“Come on, kiddo, fill her up. Then I’ll fuck her like she needs to get fucked”, Joel said as he looked at you, grabbing your cheeks in his hands and keeping you facing him.

You heard the guard grunt then freeze, adding his cum to Tommy's.

“Ah fuuuuuck, that’s hot, baby. You never disappoint”, Joel said.

The guard pulled out, and so did Joel, as he told you to stand on all fours while he knelt behind you.

“Yeah, I finally got this pretty pussy all to myself. I'm gonna fuck you rough baby. I know you want it. Hope I'll feel something. We really ruined you, uh?”

He slid into your pussy without waiting, hands clinging to your shoulders. Fucking you hard, without respite. Then he spat on your ass, rubbing your ring with his thumb, his other hand on your waist.

“Gonna fuck that ass. Pussy’s too ruined.”

“Wait, Joel!”

“Calm down, ain’t gonna hurt you.”

He pulled away, licking your ring and spitting on it as he jerked off. Then he positioned his cock covered by your wetness and the other men cum at your entrance.

“See, kiddo…that ass” - he thrust his tip in - “is so good” - pulled back - “that I can never stay too long” - he thrust in totally - “without fucking it. Oh fuck!!”

You laid your head on the pillow, moaning and fisting the pillow, as his hands were buried in the flesh of your hips, fucking your ass hard and deep. You heard him growl more and more.

“Look at that kiddo, she’s taking it so good”, Tommy praised you.

Joel thrust in a few more times, hands frozen on your hips, then he stopped, flooding your ass with his cum. He stayed there while he caught his breath, then withdrew.

“Kiddo, go pick up her girlfriend in 30 minutes.”

Then he looked at you and added “we have to keep teaching him how to fuck”, smirking.

You went back home.

When Vic finally came home that night, you were waiting for her to go to bed. But the guard didn't leave, and told you to follow him, from the front door.

“Jesus Christ…how many times does he need to fuck today?” you mumbled, looking at her.

He didn’t accompany you to the fuckhouse, but to Joel's house, once again. You went upstairs and heard the shower running. You sat on Joel’s bed waiting for him to finish. When he came out a few minutes later, in boxers and a towel around his neck, his hair was still wet and drops of water were beading on his curls. He was magnificent, from head to toe. You looked at his body as he walked towards you. Several scars covered his torso.

“You’re staring, baby”, he said with a smile.

“Yeah, well…not only men can do that.”

He smiled even more when he heard you. He brushed past you without touching you, and went to bed. “You’re gonna sleep with me tonight.”

“What…I…didn’t bring any sleeping clothes.”

“You won’t need them.”

*************

Thank you for reading 🙏

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milla-frenchy · 23 hours

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Omg Aly 💛💛💛

When I was just a baby in here, that I knew almost no one, I found your page, which had another name at the time. For me, you were one of the cool ones. So much cooler than me. When I joined the same discord server as you, I was so shy, and you’ve always been super nice, funny, and friendly. We were not so many on the european side (you, Kate and me lol), and every morning we would say hello, and talk for several hours. You’re my sunshine, I told you this so many times, I know, but what can I say? You’re another version of me. Definitely way cooler than me.

I love you 💛🫶

Thank you for the GIFt, my 3 favorite Pedro boys 😍😍😍 LOOK AT THEM 😍😍😍

HAPPY MASSIVE MILESTONE, MY LOVE @milla-frenchy thank you for sharing your love, kindness and talent! hope you enjoy my little GIFt to celebrate you! KEEP ON SHINING ✨

#1000 followers #Aly 💛

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milla-frenchy · 1 day

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Congratulations, Milla!!

We are so lucky to follow you and read your fics. Love you, friend 🫶🫶🫶 (a hug from me and a hug from mo, both via @boydholbrook-fan 🖤)

Thank you so much Toxy, for everything. I'm so lucky to have you as a friend.

And thank you for advising me to watch The Free World. You told me you thought I would love this movie, you were so right 😍

Love you 🫶🫶🫶🫂

#1000 followers #toxy 🖤

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milla-frenchy · 1 day

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Well damn, that was hot!! 😍😍

Glossy brown pools that are surely made of pure honey as they draw you in.

Oooof the writing 🤌

I loved to read their thoughts 😍

The mood board is beautiful ❤️ There's a part 2, so you'll hear from me soon, I guess 😁 Thank you for tagging me 🙏

✨Can You Please Be Mine? Part 1: Carousel Lights and Dreamy Brown Eyes✨

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: This idea came out of absolutely nowhere when I was driving home from work, so I ran home to write it 🤭 As always, let me hear those thoughts and please reblog if you enjoyed 🩷 The song “Better Run” by Nasty Cherry created this sweet delusion ✨

Summary: It’s a hot summer’s day in Austin, and you’re cooling off by having a cold ice cream cone while riding the carousel at the fair. You see a handsome, older man that you think is just the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and you just wonder what it’d be like if he took you home with him.

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Tags: Allusions to smut, describing how hot Joel Miller is, flirting, pining, this is written in both reader’s view and Joel’s POV, reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his late 40’s

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The Austin heat swelters down on you, its hot rays of heat melting your vanilla ice cream cone as you lick at the edges of the tasty treat. The metal seat of the colorful carousel sticks to your tanned skin as the denim shorts ride up your sticky thighs coated in sweat.

As the carousel starts up, you see the thick crowds of people filling the streets start to blur, your stomach twisting in knots as the laughter between you and your friends from college echoes around the spinning ride. You can’t remember the last time you’d been on a carousel, so you relax and unwind as the ride goes up and down slowly.

The wind blows through your windswept locks, the shine of your lip gloss coating your glittery lips as you take another bite from the delicious ice cream cone that sits in your hand. One hand hugs the golden pole, the other grasps around the waffle cone as you lick more of the vanilla goodness into your mouth.

You feel the ride sweep you around, the motion soft and slow as it takes you back around to the waiting crowd. You smile freely as the wind blows through your long locks, tipping your head back as you spot a man that catches your eye in the colorful crowd.

Tall. He’s so very tall. Maybe over six feet tall. And his eyes. Glossy brown pools that are surely made of pure honey as they draw you in. Dazed and completely infatuated. Eyes that could make you lovesick with desire.

You catch his eye, watching the way his thick eyebrows furrow together as they meet yours. A blank stare, but full of curiosity and wonder as he stares back at you intrigued. You see him shake his head and look down at the concrete ground, but it doesn’t take him long to look back up in your direction discreetly as those melted pools of honey find yours again.

You giggle to yourself and readjust your position as you lean forward and brace yourself against the golden pole, fingers digging into the hot metal as you clench your thighs against the warm seat. Excitement stirs inside your entire body, butterflies flitting low in your stomach as you bite your lower lip and snicker.

He’s so fucking hot.

When the carousel circles back around, you find him staring again, caught red handed with his thick fingers digging into the pockets of his dark washed jeans. He’s so broad, so muscular as the denim button-up sits clinging against tanned skin. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick, cascading veins that carry down to his large, overwhelming hands. They look like hands that could hold you tight, fingers that could sink deep into you as he curls them up one at a time in between the slick of your folds.

You look away as crimson heat fills your cheeks, taking another lick of your melting ice cream as if that’ll cool off the rush of warmth that’s filling the inside of your thighs. Your mind wanders to dark places, filling your head with visions of what it’d be like for his head to be between your thighs, his rough tongue sliding against your heat as you grab a fistful of those tousled curls and moan his name blissfully.

You can see it now, how absolutely massive his cock must be inside those tight jeans of his. You wonder what it’s like to go down on him as he bobs your head up and down his length, calling you good girl as he watches the drool lap around your needy mouth, wonder how he must taste of salty sweetness that slides down your throat willingly.

You think he must make you so full as he drives his thick cock in and out of your slick center as he licks into the heat of your mouth and moans just the right amount as he stills and coats you in ropes of come when he’s finished fucking you nice and deep. You know he’d be so good to you, if only you could have just one taste.

The carousel spins again in slow motion as the soft music fills your ears. You see his brows knit together as a smug look coats his face, his salt-and-pepper beard shaded from the sun as he stands at an angle in the crowd, ticking his jaw just a tad as he meets your stare again. He’s intrigued, that much you know.

As the carousel spins in a continuous circle with the seat moving up and down in slow movements, you visualize this is how you’ll look riding him. Your head tilted back, your eyes half closed, your glossy lips puffy from his mouth devouring you as his tongue licks against your needy mouth, your thighs clenched tight around his large waist as you moan his name over and over again. He must feel like a god inside you because his sly smirk and dark brown eyes scream for you to come play. And you want to. God, you want to.

He’s conflicted, torn between looking away and staring at the beauty that sits in front of him, licking your melting ice cream and smiling flirtatiously at him from the moving carousel. He knows you’re younger, probably at least twenty years younger than he is. But that doesn’t stop him from staring at your tanned skin, denim shorts riding up dangerously short as he gulps down the desire to hook your legs over his shoulders as he spreads them wide and licks the slick that he knows is pooling inside your tiny shorts.

Another mischievous lick and it has his cock digging into the zipper of his jeans, the precum already spilling as he pictures you down on your knees, your lips pressed around his cock as your tongue laps up and down his slippery, long length that has your name written all over it. He can’t stand it, the desire that burns in his very being as his mind swirls with visions of you everywhere. You are all around him, spinning your web of lust as you pull him in. He wants you, so fucking badly.

He can feel the growing bulge in his jeans as he readjusts and shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, brows furrowing together as he grits his teeth together in frustration. He thinks you’d look so good splayed across the light blue sheets on his bed, legs spread wide so he could take in the shine of your glistening slick that coats your pussy. He thinks you must taste so good, thinks you smell like candy and vanilla as the scent tinges his insides. He thinks he can see you moaning his name with your legs wrapped tight around his back, thinks you’d look so fucking good while he rams his slick coated cock inside you over and over until he bottoms out and has you begging him for more.

He wants it, just as much as you want him. But he shouldn’t. He’s at the fair with his daughter Sarah. He should be paying attention to her, but yet his eyes are glued to you. Those smoldering, tempting eyes that he thinks are the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen in his entire life. He knows right then he’s fucked, royally fucked. You’ll fucking ruin him. He knows it.

As the dizzy delusions of you and him being a thing wrack your brain, you realize you just have to have him. You pry a pen from one of your friend’s purses and tear off a piece of the ice cream receipt paper and scribble your name and phone number down quickly before the ride comes to a complete halt.

You nearly bounce off the pink horse you just straddled, pulling your shorts down that hike up teasingly around your tanned thighs. You make your way quickly through the metal gates, finding the broad man standing just inches from your face as you see his thick eyebrow raise in curiosity, his jaw clenching as he flexes his fingers into a tight fist next to his denim jeans.

You gather every ounce of courage in your body to stride up to him, your shoulder brushing past him as you slip your fingers in between his, feeling the calloused fingers burn against your skin as you slip the piece of paper discreetly into the palm of his hand. You push your way through the thick crowd, smiling to yourself as you achieved exactly what you wanted to do.

When you turn back around, you gasp as you see his head turned toward you, honey eyes glazed over as his lips part open, the sheen of his sweat covered forehead slick as tousled curls stick to the tanned skin. He’s so fucking beautiful.

You take another mischievous lick of your vanilla ice cream as the sweet flavor runs down your throat. You see him gulp as he watches you, his eyes blowing wide as you smile flirtatiously and wink at him as you pull a strand of hair back behind your ear shyly.

You watch him another minute, getting lost in his honey eyes as he seems to be entranced by you. Before the ride attendant lets the next round of people on, he gives you a gorgeous crooked smile as a dimple pulls deep against the middle of his cheek. You think he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and you swear that deep chuckle that escapes his lips sounds like a choir of angels that sing just for you.

Before he turns to get on the ride with a girl you think is his daughter, he winks back at you and slips the folded piece of paper into his pocket as you nearly pass out from the playful wink he just gave you. When he turns his broad back against you and leads his daughter onto the ride, you nearly sink to your knees as butterflies fill the pit of your stomach.

He’s going to be the absolute death of you, you just know it.

As you turn to the whirlwind of loud crowds and busy rides, you think of dark eyes and broad shoulders. You knew you’d see him again. This was just the beginning of an exciting adventure. The adventure of you and him.

Tags: @mountainsandmayhem @jasminedragoon @littlevenicebitch69 @syd-djarin @msjarvis @keylimebeag @lotusbxtch @casa-boiardi @akah565 @laurrrra @amyispxnk @pedrostories @survivingandenduring @vvitchesh3x @untamedheart81 @rav3n-pascal22 @littlemisspascal @sheepdogchick3

#jmrecs #Jamie #carousel #ice cream #joel miller #joel miller x reader

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milla-frenchy · 1 day

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Almost 1k1 followers whaaaaaat?

Well damn, I never, ever imagined that there would be so many people who would be interested in my fics. Thank you so much for joining me here 🙏❤️

Thanks to those who take the time to reblog and comment on the fics, you make them live ❤️

Thank you Kate, for beta-ing me. I would never have posted a fic without you by my side to check my French ass grammar. And thank you for everything 💕

Thanks to all the authors for all these amazing fics 🫶

Tagging a few friends, readers, writers. I can’t tag everyone but I see you, thank you ❤️🙏

@aurorawritestoescape @toxicanonymity @iamasaddie @bonezone44 @rubyfruitjungle

@survivingandenduring @sheepdogchick3 @axshadows @casa-boiardi @corazondebeskar-reads

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And thank you to this one, because damn 🫠🫠🫠

#1000 followers #thank you 💕💕💕

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milla-frenchy · 1 day

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I'm gonna miss them so much 😓 I will re read this series several times, for sure

"What're you doin' there, baby girl?" You peer up at him with a devastating puppy-dog stare, all wide-eyed and needy. "I missed your cock. I just wanna suck on it a little." "Jesus," Joel breathes. He's powerless to fight you then as you tug his boxers down his thighs to reveal his semi-hard cock. He really shouldn't let you in this state but you're already wrapping your fingers around him and tonguing at his slit and it's too fucking late now. He stiffens fully in your grasp and promptly loses any will to stop you.

So hot, damn...

And then the somno part, fuck yeah 🫠🫠🫠

Such a perfect couple 🥰🥰🥰

spring breaks loose | joel miller x f!reader

a your summer dream one shot

your summer dream masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | follow @swiftispunkupdates and turn on notifications for updates

It's spring, you're young, you're lovely, you have a right to be happy. Come back into the world.

–Shirley Jackson, We Have Always Lived in the Castle

prev | next

pairing: joel miller x f!reader rating: 18+ word count: 11.2k

series warnings etc: [NO OUTBREAK] we'll call him dad's buddy!joel, fairly soft!joel, age difference (28/50), angst, smut (will specify with each chapter), fluff, alcohol, food, secret relationship until it's not.

chapter summary: building bridges and starting fresh. it's springtime in austin. chapter warnings: smut, lots of fluff, a sprinkling of angst, consensual somnophilia, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, squirting, vaginal fingering, oral (m receiving), alcohol + intoxication, reader is so very eepy, food, discussions of infidelity, a whole lot of dialogue and tying up loose ends, heather comes with her own warning, in this house we hate chris, time hop, pov swapping. no use of y/n.

a/n: we have reached the penultimate chapter of ysd (for real this time). thank you to everyone who has stuck around this long. thank you to @frannyzooey for helping me work out a few things in this chapter, @joelscruff for beta'ing, and @5oh5, who offered me plant guidance many moons ago now. i also wanted to just boost the fact that i do have a kofi account, and while there is never any pressure to tip, life is hard rn and i always always appreciate the help. love ya'll sm.

*lastly: be sure to see the very end of this post for a special SNEAK PEEK of the upcoming final chapter of your summer dream.

january

"I'm really happy," you insist, and in spite of it all, Joel's lips twitch up at the corners. You've told him how happy you are about a thousand times, but watching you confidently profess it to your father is something else entirely.

"I'm really happy, okay?" you repeat, firm as you stare down the man across from him. Your father's face remains unchanged, stoic and blank as he nods. Joel swallows tightly as you nod back, and then you're gone.

Neither of the men utter a word until the back door swings shut behind you. Joel can feel your father's eyes on him, but he can't bring himself to meet them. He should say something. He clears his throat but then–

"Joel...since Costa Rica?" your father asks. He doesn't sound angry, Joel notes. No, he sounds…hurt.

At last, Joel looks up from the table, and your father stares back at him with obvious confusion in his eyes. Confusion and–as Joel had imagined–hurt.

Joel sighs.

"Yeah," he nods solemnly, shifting in his seat. "Yes."

Your dad just shakes his head, and Joel can practically see the cogs turning in his mind, playing back those days at the resort, piecing it all together in real time.

"That whole time we were there, you–?"

"No–" Joel cuts him off. "Not…not the whole time."

Like that makes it better. Your father doesn't look at him, still lost in thought, still shaking his head defiantly.

"I was…we were right across the hall. You–all that sneaking around–we–you–"

His rambling dissolves into incoherent sputtering until Joel finally chimes in again.

"I'm sorry," he says, and then he's shaking his head too, like he's just as much in disbelief about the whole thing as his best friend is. And he is, really. Couldn't believe it then, can hardly believe it now. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Goddamnit, Joel," your father suddenly exclaims, a palm coming down hard on the tabletop. His anger seems to catch up with him, as though Joel's quiet apology had somehow been the final nail in the coffin. "She's Sarah's age! I mean, that–that's my daughter!"

Joel swallows and sniffs back a heated flow of emotion. He knows he deserves it, deserves every bit of your father's ire. But that doesn't mean it doesn't sting, that feeling of being scolded by his oldest friend in the world. He shrinks a bit and crosses his arms over his chest defensively.

But he doesn't actually defend himself at all. For some reason, he digs the hole deeper. Maybe he's tired of lying.

"Younger," he grumbles, staring down at his hands.

"What?"

Joel clears his throat, cautiously daring to meet your father's accusatory glare.

"She's younger than Sarah."

There's a long and painful beat of silence as your father sits back in his chair with a heavy, exasperated sigh.

"What the hell is this, Joel?" he demands. Still biting, still cold, though not quite as infuriated.

Joel seizes the opportunity. He leans forward, elbows on the table, pleading. Where to begin? He thinks about what he'd want to hear if the roles were reversed–and starts there.

"Everythin' was mutual, right from the start–I swear," Joel begins. "And I...I mean, I couldn't even remember the last time I seen her before that day at the airport. I ain't never even thought about her like that before. Then we were–spendin' all this time together, which you wanted us to do–"

"Uh-uh, don't you go puttin' this on me," your dad cuts in. "You know damn well this ain't what I had in mind."

Joel nods.

"I know, I know," he agrees. "I didn't mean–sorry."

Your father doesn't respond. Joel sighs.

"Listen, she was hurtin', man–you don't know the half of what that boy did to her," Joel attempts to reason. "We got to talkin' about it all and I...I just wanted to be there for her, you know? And, sure, there was attraction there, she's a beautiful girl–"

"Alright, alright, alright," your father interrupts again, grimacing. "I don't need to hear about all that."

Joel nods again, swallowing back the words he'd been about to say–that the attraction had, miraculously, flown both ways. That you'd wanted him just as much as he'd wanted you. That he never would have sought you out if he hadn't known that was true.

He contemplates his next words carefully.

"Look, it wasn't right to keep it from you," Joel concedes eventually. "We–or, I–got caught up in it. You think I expected this? I mean she just–," Joel shakes his head, lost for words again as his cheeks warm and his lips curl into this fond little smile when he thinks of how completely and quickly you'd made a home for yourself in his heart, "She took me by surprise, man. But you know what it's like when you got a good thing goin'. You don't wanna risk losin' it."

Your dad just frowns, his mouth seemingly fused into a hard, unforgiving line.

"Costa Rica was months ago, Joel."

Joel sighs.

"I know. I know, okay? I wanted to tell you sooner. But she wasn't ready for that and I wasn't gonna go against her wishes."

Your father's jaw ticks as he chews on the inside of his cheek, thinking. Coldly assessing the man across from him like he's seeing him for the very first time. Joel crumbles under that stare, hates how it feels coming from someone he's known so long.

"You know me, man," Joel pleads, wide eyes boring desperately into your father's. "You know me. When have I ever gone for someone younger? When have I ever even wanted that?"

Your father's face doesn't change but he also doesn't argue, so Joel goes on.

"All I wanna do–all I have ever wanted to do for that girl–is take care of her. And I-I know maybe it's…uncomfortable–"

Your father scoffs at the understatement of the century, and Joel can't help the way his own lips twitch upwards too. It's a moment of genuine camaraderie, of two fathers well aware of the absurdity of their situation. Their matching grins quickly fade, but nevertheless, Joel feels somewhat more at ease when he next speaks.

"–but it's real," Joel concludes, "What we got. S'hard as it is to understand–and believe me, I ain't even sure I understand it, but…"

His voice trails off into a pensive sigh, mirrored by your father. There's another stretch of silence, but the air feels less tense now, a little less thick with disdain. Again, Joel ponders what he'd want to hear if he was in your father's shoes. What would give him the peace of mind to know this was okay?

"I'm…" he starts to say, but he's shocked to find the words get caught in his throat, obstructed by a sudden lump of emotion. He grunts past it, straightening his spine and squaring his shoulders while your father looks on with furrowed brows.

"I'm in love with her," Joel finally manages, voice low and laced with devotion.

It's infinitesimal, but Joel could swear he sees your father's eyes soften.

"I ain't told her that yet," he continues. "But I think she knows. I think she's a smart girl, and I think she knows this is real, too. Hell, I don't think she'd'a stuck around this long if she didn't think I was serious about her. And so, I…I think you gotta trust her on this one. Even if you don't wanna trust me."

Your father crosses his arms over his chest and takes another long, weighty sigh.

"Jesus Christ, Joel," he mutters, shaking his head down at the table. But it doesn't sound angry or even hurt anymore. It almost sounds teasing, and Joel almost laughs.

"I know," he smirks. "Trust me, I know."

"S'pose I got no business tryna forbid it, do I?" your father says.

"She wouldn't let you even if you tried," Joel replies, grinning wider when he thinks of how you'd respond to that. You, so independent and sure of yourself. Yeah fucking right.

Your dad huffs out a single laugh. "Ain't that the truth."

Tentatively, both men sip at their drinks, falling back into something of a routine. It still feels…awkward. But the worst seems to have passed.

Meanwhile, Joel's heart is pounding in his chest as the reality of his admission catches up with him. He loves you. He's in love with you. He's never said it out loud before. His entire body suddenly aches with the need to see you, just so he can say it again and again and again.

Joel polishes off his drink, pursing his lips around the burn of whiskey on his tongue. The two men lock eyes, and Joel thinks maybe–maybe–he can see the early signs of forgiveness there.

"I get it f'you need some time," Joel says. "Guess I just…wanna make sure me n' you are gonna be alright."

Joel's best friend sighs, before nodding slowly and sympathetically.

"Yeah," he grunts. "Yeah, we'll be alright. C'mon–"

He cocks his head to the side as he rises up out of his chair and Joel hastily follows suit. Your father pulls him into an affable, if somewhat unsure, embrace, firmly patting his palms over Joel's upper back. Joel returns the hug instinctively.

"Don't fuck this up, Miller," your father grumbles over Joel's shoulder.

Joel chuckles, honestly grateful for the familiar ribbing. "Won't. Promise."

That's about the time you come charging back through the door.

four months later

A blanket of grey coats the early-April sky above, a telltale sign of rain to come. It's appropriately ominous, you think, considering what you're about to do.

Joel herds you toward his truck in the driveway with a hand on your lower back, but something in your periphery gives you pause. A glimpse of colour that hadn't been there before, stopping you in your tracks about halfway down his front steps.

"Those are new."

Joel stops too, following your eye line as he casually throws an arm across your shoulders. He smiles when he sees what you see, letting you guide him a little closer to what had once been an unassuming, mostly barren patch of dirt on his front lawn. Now, poking out from the otherwise lifeless bushes are a handful of tulips, vivid green stems giving way to pink and yellow petals, tentatively blooming in spite of the day's limited sunlight.

"Oh…yeah," Joel shrugs. "Sarah and I planted 'em. Years ago. Grow back every year around this time."

You're not sure why that stirs something in you. But it does.

Joel Miller has tulips in his garden.

Curiously, you inch towards them, crouching to delicately curl your fingers around the unfurling petals.

"They're beautiful," you muse. You turn to face him and find he's watching you with equal curiosity. "Pink and yellow?"

"She picked the pink."

"Adds up," you nod. "What made you go with yellow?"

He stares at your fingers fiddling with the stems, and shrugs. You think he seems a little shy.

"Can't remember," he says. "They're sunny, I guess. Bright."

A tightness knots in your throat as he reaches out beside you to touch his own fingers to the petals, softly running his thumbs against them, seemingly deep in thought. You think of a younger Joel Miller, picking out yellow tulip seeds to plant with his daughter because they reminded him of the sun. A younger Joel Miller digging holes in the Earth to lay down his roots, burying a memory only to watch it grow back, year after year. A sure thing, a constant. Always there even if you can't see them.

Of course Joel Miller has tulips in his garden.

"What?" he probes after a moment of prolonged silence. You clear your throat.

"Nothing," you smile, craning to kiss his cheek and feeling the low rumble of his responding chuckle against your lips. "I love you."

He cups a hand over your face before you can get too far, pressing his mouth to yours in a deeper, far less chaste kiss.

"I love you too," he murmurs as he pulls away.

You're still thinking about the tulips as Joel backs out of the driveway, and the first of the day's raindrops begin to hit his windshield. You make your way out of the safety of the cul-de-sac, and with the low hum of the radio playing in the background, you count the houses on the street outside your window in an attempt to calm your nervous mind.

Joel doesn't interrupt your silence. But as you merge onto the freeway, your heart begins to pound–and you decide you need a distraction.

"It's nice they grow back every year," you say absently out the window.

"Hm?" Joel's brows furrow as he glances over at you, sitting with your chin atop your fist and staring out at the steadily increasing rainfall. He quickly catches up with your train of thought. "Oh, the tulips. Yeah, it is nice. 'Specially after Sarah left. They always reminded me of her."

You nod and make some noncommittal humming sound. Talking was a stupid idea actually.

As ever, Joel notes your demeanour.

"You alright?" he asks, taking your hand across the centre console and squeezing three distinct times.

You sigh.

"Just nervous."

"You'll be fine," he insists lightly, not for the first time. "I reckon she's a lot more nervous'n you are."

You can't argue with that. Heather is the one who fucked your ex-boyfriend. Heather is the one working to make amends. Heather is the one who threw away your friendship and is now asking for it back.

"Yeah, that's probably true," you agree quietly.

Joel sighs. He lifts your conjoined hands to his mouth to lay a kiss against your knuckles, keeping his eyes on the road as he does.

"Just…remember, you're not goin' there to forgive her or to…pretend like nothin' happened," he says. "But I think you'll feel better once y'get this all hashed out."

"I know you're right," you nod, allowing the truth of his words to wash over you as you take another steadying breath and lean your head back into the seat behind you. "I just feel like I-I've been carrying the weight of this for too fucking long. I have to let it go. I'm doing the right thing."

It's a mantra you have to keep reminding yourself of–you're doing the right thing. Not just from a being the bigger person standpoint, but for you. You need to do this so you can close this chapter of your life for good.

"You're takin' the time to hear her out after all the shit she put you through," Joel goes on. "Makes you a better person than most people I know."

The pride and adoration in his voice makes warmth bloom in your tummy, but you roll your eyes all the same–out of habit more than anything else.

"I don't know about that."

"I do."

His gaze darts in your direction again, and there is no trace of a lie in that look. So you choose not to fight him, just smile tightly and accept his reassurance, falling back into comfortable quiet for the rest of your drive.

By the time he pulls up in front of the cafe you'd agreed to meet Heather at, your nerves have returned tenfold. Is she already inside? You're ten minutes early so maybe not. Is it better if you're here first or would that make her feel weird? Why are you worried about making her feel weird?

God, it never used to feel this terrifying to see your best friend. You have half a mind to ask Joel to wait with you but ultimately decide against it. You need to be a big girl about this.

"I can do this," you tell yourself instead.

"You can," Joel agrees, taking you in his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Call me if it goes south and I'll come pick y'up, alright?"

You nod resolutely as you unravel yourself from his hold.

"'Kay. Thank you."

"Good luck, baby girl."

With one last parting kiss, Joel lets you go, watching you from the driver's seat until you disappear behind the door of the cafe.

Heather is not there yet, as it turns out, and you can't tell if that makes this better or worse.

Now you're faced with new dilemmas. Should you order her a coffee? You haven't seen her in eight months; what if she takes it differently now?

She fucked your boyfriend–why would you buy her a coffee? the pettier part of you wonders.

And that's…true, you suppose.

So you buy yourself a latte and get it in a to-go cup, find a seat at a two-person table in the back of the dining room and wait. But not for long.

Barely five minutes later and Heather is coming through the door. She spots you and there's a moment of awkward uncertainty as you half-rise from your chair, the both of you waving at each other before Heather gestures to the line at the till. You nod and retake your seat.

You resist the urge to text Joel. You can do this. You can do this on your own.

Heather settles up, cautiously setting her coffee cup on the table beside yours and you're not sure why–instinct or something–but you stand when she gets there, and let her pull you into a hug.

"Hi, babe." Her voice is thick and her arms are tight around you. And, goddamnit, for everything she put you through, there is a familiarity in that embrace, something long-forgotten in the warmth of her voice.

"Hey," you murmur, letting her squeeze you in tighter before you both pull away. "Hey."

She assesses you with wide, wet eyes, hands still resting on your shoulders.

"You look amazing," she says.

"Thanks."

"I don't even know where to start," she shakes her head. "Thank you for seeing me."

"Of course." Like you hadn't stewed over it for literal weeks.

"Why don't I just–I mean, I have to–"

You can see her struggling, and you can't help but sympathize. She was always the more confident of the two of you, always more direct and brave–but in that warm kind of way that used to always put you at ease. Now, she seems completely lost, awkwardly taking a seat and waiting for you to do the same. She clutches her hands around her coffee cup and you don't think you've ever seen her look so small.

"I am…so fucking sorry," she finally says. She doesn't shy away from you when she says it, and you have to respect her courage for that. She looks you dead in the eyes and doesn't avert her stare even once.

You swallow tightly. "I know."

"Can I…would you let me explain?"

"Actually, Heather," you say, straightening in your seat a bit to steel yourself. Heather's face falls, until you go on, "Can I go first? I just need to say my piece and then, yes, you can explain."

She's nodding furiously before you even get the words out.

"Of course, yes, oh my god, please."

She sits back, probably gearing up for the lashing of a lifetime. It's not quite what you have planned but–

"You really hurt me. You and Chris. Whatever the story is, whatever went down, it doesn't change the fact that what you two did just... completely fucked me up. My entire life changed overnight because of you. I spent so many days crying, screaming, trying to just...figure out what I'd done to deserve that. Why wasn't I enough? Why wasn't I good enough for Chris? Why wasn't I a good enough friend to you? Like, if I was a better friend to you maybe you wouldn't have done that to me, you know?"

Fat tears slowly well in Heather's eyes as you speak, finally spilling over as you near the end of your monologue. But she doesn't interrupt or argue, and for that, you're grateful.

"I wondered about all of that for a really long time," you continue. "In those first few days when it was hardest...and for so many months after. But...I'm okay now. I think actually it all kind of worked out in the end, as crazy as that sounds."

At least it had all brought you to Joel.

"But I just needed you to know what it did to me. I think it's important that you know."

Heather hastily swipes at her tears, blinking them away and nodding her agreement.

"And that's it, that's all I have to say," you conclude. The weight on your shoulders feels lighter already. "You don't have to say anything back but...I do want to hear you out. You can...you can tell me what happened now."

That was the point of all this after all, you guess.

Heather takes a deep, shaky breath. You sip your coffee.

"Okay. Well, fuck. Okay. I had feelings for Chris," she begins. "But I never–I never dreamed of acting on them while you two were together, you have to know that. It wasn't premeditated or-or-or something I actively thought about–"

"I never thought that."

It's true. Heather's a lot of things, but she's not conniving.

"Okay," she nods, seeming genuinely relieved. "Good. I mean, it still doesn't make it right, I know that. But he–"

She cuts herself off, a nervous shiver passing over her. Her courage wanes, and she looks down at the table as she dives into the part of her story that neither of you wants you to relive.

"That night at your birthday party, he started telling me things. He…"

Her voice trails off again, and you can understand her fears, but you need to know this. Whatever it is.

"Heather, it's okay, you can tell me."

She glances up at you. You make your resolve as clear as possible on your face until you see her nod.

"What happened was…I was drunk and I-I told him how I felt," she continues. "I shouldn't have done that, I know that. But that's when he started saying all this stuff about how he wasn't happy and how he was planning to break up with you. He-he said he'd always wanted to be with me instead."

She stops, peeking up at you, but the only response you can offer her is a curt little,

"Oh."

Interesting. He'd made no indication of his unhappiness to you.

"In that moment, I just…I believed him. I should have just come straight to you but I let my stupid feelings get in the way and I–"

"He can definitely be very convincing," you say bitingly. Heather almost laughs, but quickly reins herself in.

"It's no excuse, and I know that," she says. "I just really thought he meant it. That he was going to end it with you and choose me instead. Not that that would have been okay either, but. God, in hindsight, I just was not thinking clearly at all."

Heather buries her face in her hands but it's getting hard to focus. You're flitting back through memories, trying to piece things together. Had there been signs? Since meeting Joel, you're acutely aware that you hadn't been as happy as you could have been with Chris, but you can't ever recall letting that on at the time. And you certainly can't recall Chris ever letting on his unhappiness. It doesn't add up.

"Then he did end it with you and you went to Costa Rica and I felt like, 'Okay, this is what he'd promised,' but…I could tell right away he was having second thoughts. All of a sudden, he's changing his tune, saying he wants to get back together with you and basically telling me I could just be like a-like a side piece or something."

At that, you scoff mirthlessly. Of course.

That's why he hadn't let anything on. He'd been trying to have his cake and eat it too. Motherfucker.

"Yeah," Heather goes on. "So I said, 'Fuck you' and I walked. I was already feeling terrible about what I'd done to you and that just settled it for me."

"Fuck," you sigh, pinching at a pressure point between your eyes.

"And I haven't talked to him once since then," Heather insists. She reaches across the table and wraps a hand around your wrist, and you let her. "I promise."

You place your own hand over hers–again operating on some kind of deep-seated instinct.

"Thank you," you tell her. "For–I don't know, for being honest."

"I would've told you everything sooner if you'd have let me–"

"I know."

"But I know–I know you needed your time. You didn't have to hear me out at all, and I would have deserved that. I take full responsibility, I do, but, my god, babe–," Heather's lips pull up in a smirk and you share a knowing glance, "–that guy fucking sucks."

You could try to fight the way your own face contorts into a grin, but you don't.

"Yeah," you agree. "He really fucking does."

There's a short beat of silence, filled with the sounds of your uncertain, quiet laughter.

"Are we okay?" Heather finally asks tentatively, letting your arm go. "Or–shit. Sorry. You don't have to answer that."

"No–it…I don't know yet," you say truthfully. "But, you know, I don't think you deserve what he did to you, either. And I'm sorry."

"I'm okay now. All I really care about is you."

You smile at each other tightly–uncertainly–and sip quietly at your coffees. She doesn't demand forgiveness or push the subject further. You think the air feels just a little clearer now, a little more like before.

"So what's new with you?" she chimes in after a moment. "How've you been? You never post on Instagram anymore."

Your smile turns a little shy as you debate telling her about Joel. But her gaze is so earnest and curious, it makes you want that normalcy, to be able to gush to your best friend about the man you've fallen in love with.

"Well," you shrug, sitting up a little straighter in your chair. "I'm seeing someone."

Heather's jaw drops in genuine delight, her eyes going wide with wonder.

"No way! Tell me everything."

And you do. You tell her all about Joel and Costa Rica, and every perfect moment since. Heather gasps and squeals at all the appropriate times and you find yourself remembering why it feels so good to have someone to talk about these things with. It's so validating to watch someone be as excited about your love life as you feel about it.

"Wait," she interrupts, early on in your retelling, "If he's your dad's friend–how old is he?"

You bite your lip, hardly bashful about it these days, but after the disaster that was telling your parents, you never know how someone could react anymore.

"He's in his fifties," you confess.

Heather's hands come up over her mouth, but her eyes are swimming with barely-contained glee.

"Shut up, oh my god," she exclaims. Her initial shock fades into awe, and when her hands fall from her face, you think she looks kind of impressed, "Damn, girl. That's hot. Is he hot?"

You smile. "He's so fucking hot."

When you're home later, you'll have to remember to tell Joel how good it had felt to brag about him. You're sure he'll act coy, but you know it'll make his ego bloom, just a little bit.

It goes on like that as the minutes pass, you catching Heather up on the whirlwind that the last eight months or so have been. She looks kind of proud, and that feels good too. You're so proud of Joel, proud of the life you've built together, the way he's taught you so much about yourself and helped you grow into this new, happier person. It's nice to have someone else see that.

"So, your mom still doesn't approve?" she asks once you've got her fully up to speed.

You shrug. "Not as far as I know. I haven't spoken to her since that night we told them."

"Oh, babe."

You just shrug again, pushing back on her sympathetic gaze.

"Maybe she just needs some time," Heather posits, "I mean, you seem so happy. She'll see that eventually."

"Maybe, yeah."

Heather offers you her own scoop after that, telling you all about how she's been busy working on herself, taking courses to get her yoga-teaching license and enjoying being single for the time being–though she does work in a few stories of some particularly exciting hook-ups. She seems well, and in spite of everything, you're happy for her.

What's more, you kind of don't want your time with her to end. She seems to sense it too.

"Hey, do you want to maybe grab a drink? Like, a real drink?" she offers once your take-out cups are empty and the cafe's traffic has slowed to an early-evening lull.

"Yeah, okay, fuck it," you agree with a shrug. Heather smiles excitedly before excusing herself to the bathroom, leaving you to check your phone for the first time in hours.

Everything good? reads a text from Joel.

all good, you reply, i'll be a little later than i thought.

Take yr time. Love you.

love you too.

A cocktail deep, pop music blaring, and a plate of nachos between you; this is true familiarity with Heather.

You're finally starting to feel some semblance of comfortable, and it feels fucking good. To laugh with an old friend, even if there's still that faint undercurrent of distrust there. You imagine it won't ever fully go away. The minutes tick by, and while that distant uncertainty never fades, it gets easier. It gets fun.

"So, be honest," Heather says, diving headfirst into her second blended margarita. Her eyes sparkle with a devious little glint and you already have a feeling what she's going to ask. "This guy…he's in his fifties, right?"

"Right," you grin.

"So like…what's the sex like?"

Your grin widens as a warmth floods your cheeks. You think about Joel, his patience and his generosity, his big cock and his skillful hands. His curiosity and his devotion, every new experience he's offered you and how genuinely thrilled he seems to do so. You try not to think about it for long, though, because your tummy is already fluttering in a way it really shouldn't be in public.

"Honestly," you say, sipping at your drink coyly. "I don't think it could possibly be any better."

Heather makes a delighted little noise, practically bouncing her chair.

"Oh my god, okay…but what about like, his stamina?"

"Um," you laugh. "Hasn't been an issue yet."

"I love this for you so much, babe," she smiles and it sounds like she really means it. "Can I see what he looks like?"

You have no qualms saying no to that. You may be stupidly in love, but you don't think it's biased of you to find Joel Miller beautiful. It's simply an objective truth. And it feels good to show him off.

You pull your phone out of your purse and flash Heather your lockscreen–a picture of Joel on the beach in Costa Rica, salt-and-pepper curls tousled in the breeze, soft belly poking out over his swim trunks, smiling at you over his broad shoulders.

"Oh my god," Heather repeats, yanking your phone right out of your hand for a better look. She taps the screen to keep it alive as she stares between the picture and you, smiling triumphantly across from her. "Whoa."

"Mhm," you smirk, your chest swelling with pride.

“That's a man, baby," she commends you, handing back your phone. You sneak a parting glance down at the image of Joel on your screen before locking it. Heather sits back against the booth behind her, shaking her head in wonder. "And he sounds like he's so good to you."

You nod, sighing dreamily. "Yeah...he's the best."

"Good. You deserve that."

It's honestly a touching sentiment, one that makes you warm and soft. You didn't know how nice it would feel to have just one person in your life accept your relationship with Joel without any convincing at all. You share a smile and clink your glasses.

"I need an older man," Heather jokes, the sincerity of the moment quickly dissipating. "I'm so sick of boys."

"Joel certainly puts Chris to shame, that's for sure," you admit candidly.

Heather huffs. "Yeah, well, that's not saying much, is it?"

You almost squirt your drink out through your nose.

"Sorry, oh my god," Heather laughs, but it's too late. And it's probably wrong, but you don't care. You both descend into a fit of giggles at your ex's expense, and something about it feels weirdly cathartic.

It's like old times after that. Easier to forget the drama when you're three drinks deep and laughing so much. You're comfortably drunk in a way you haven't been in a while, falling quickly back into your usual repartee with Heather. You feel lighter–freer–as you and Heather find your way to the dance floor and pick up basically where you'd left off nearly a year ago.

You also miss Joel.

He's being respectful, clearly trying to give you space, texting you to be safe when you'd let him know you'd be staying out a little longer. And that's nice and all, but you've talked about him so much tonight, and for all the fun you're having, you just want his arms around you and his lips on yours again.

"Didn't we go to high school with that guy?" Heather leans in close as you dance, effectively distracting you.

You follow her stare across the bar, averting your gaze the second you lock eyes with a handsome stranger leaning against the far wall. He's with a friend, and the two of them eye you and Heather with unabashed interest.

"Which one?" you giggle.

"The one on the left!"

You peek over at the men again, honing in on the one on the left. He does kind of look familiar. He's also still watching the two of you curiously.

"Uh…" you wrack your brain, trying to recall. It feels like a lifetime ago.

"Tom!" Heather exclaims. You shake your head.

"That doesn't sound right."

"No, it is! Tom from the basketball team, remember?"

You look over again, but it's still not clicking. Maybe you're drunker than you'd thought.

"He's kinda cute," Heather murmurs slyly in your ear. You grin.

The man is tall and lean, light-haired and certainly good-looking enough. A little older than both of you, but younger than the broader, burlier man beside him. You think maybe they could be brothers.

"Do you want to say hi?" you ask her.

Heather shakes her head.

"I have a better idea," she winks.

She grabs your hand and guides you to the bar, leaning against it and lengthening her body ever so. It doesn't take long before the men are coming up beside you like clockwork.

You could always count on Heather to find a way to get free drinks.

"What are you drinking, ladies?" the younger one implores confidently, placing an elbow on the bar top beside Heather. "Oh shit, do I know you?"

"I want a shot," Heather says, ignoring his question. "You guys want a shot?"

"Fuck, yeah–whiskey alright?"

"Tequila," Heather smirks definitively.

Despite being out of practice, you haven't lost the ability to recognize good vibes from bad. And the guys give off good vibes. Especially once you all collectively figure out that you did indeed go to high school together.

You shoot a pointed look at Heather when the younger one tells you his name is, in fact, Tim.

"From the basketball team, though, right?" Heather asks. Tim frowns.

"Actually, it was water polo," he says.

"Water polo!" Heather repeats, looking at you with open arms and winking. You try to conceal your giggling. "Of course, I remember now."

Tim grins bashfully, even though you are sure Heather most certainly does not remember.

You cheers to the Ravens and down your shots and then Tim ushers Heather back to the dance floor. You happily let her go. Tim seems kind of goofy, consistently making Heather throw her head back in laughter and it honestly feels nice to watch her look so content. You think about how Joel had made you feel those first few days in Costa Rica, when you'd still been reeling with all that heart ache.

You think about how much resentment you'd harboured for Heather back then, and while it's not totally gone, there's a sense of kinship there now too. Chris had hurt you both, and you know all too well how healing it had been to find someone willing to stitch up the wounds he'd left. You want that for Heather.

Goddamnit, you miss Joel.

You imagine showing him off to all your old high school friends like he was some kind of trophy husband at a class reunion. You'd walk into the gymnasium, hanging confidently off his arm and everyone there would turn and stare. They'd all whisper about his age, you bet. Call you mean names behind the bleachers and gossip about whether or not he was your sugar daddy. Thinking like that used to make you anxious, now it makes you grin.

"You want another drink?"

The other guy, Mike, is still sitting with you at the bar. He is Tim's brother, though you don't recognize him at all. Two years older and visiting from Philly, he's pretty clearly into you. But the conversation has been easy and he hasn't tried anything weird, so you don't think too much of it. You regale him about all your favourite local taquerias and what you studied in college, conscious of the way he seems just a little bit too interested in all of it.

But you definitely don't need another drink, bordering on the better side of too drunk, and as nice as he is, you think it's probably best not to lead him on any longer.

"Actually, I think I might head out soon."

"That's cool," Mike shrugs, polishing off the beer in his hand. "Wanna go grab a bite? Keep hangin' out?"

He sounds casual enough, but there's also an air of hopefulness in his voice.

"Oh, that's okay." You clear your throat, suddenly nervous at the thought of quashing that hope. "I'm, um, I'm actually spoken for."

Unconsciously, your fingers fly to the shell around your neck, fiddling idly with the chain. Mike's eyes follow the motion.

Much to your relief, Mike smiles, seemingly unbothered.

"Makes sense," he nods. His eyes trail up and down your body in a way that makes your cheeks burn. It also really makes you miss Joel. He's the only one you want looking at you like that.

"Well, he's a lucky guy, whoever he is," Mike says with a wink.

"Yeah," you agree fondly. "He is."

It's a quarter past eleven when Joel finally hears a car pull up outside. Two minutes later and your key is turning in the door, Henry bounding off the bed beside him to greet you downstairs.

"Hi, baby boy!"

Your voice, high-pitched and much too loud, cuts through the quiet of his home. He smiles to himself as he listens to you kick your shoes off, murmuring unintelligible nonsense to Henry as you both make your way back up to the bedroom. Joel sets his book on the nightstand and tilts his glasses down his nose, sitting up straighter until you emerge in the doorway with Henry in your arms and a crooked smile plastered across your face.

"Hey, sweetheart," he smirks.

You visibly soften at the sight of him, Henry spilling out of your grip.

"Hi," you whine.

Joel can't quite get a read on your energy, watching you curiously strip off your jeans and crawl up the mattress till you're splayed out on top of him.

"Mmmm, Joel," you sigh dreamily as you make yourself at home across his chest.

"I take it that went alright?" he asks, wrapping an arm around your neck to stroke the back of your head. You practically purr into his sternum and the sound makes his insides turn.

"Yes," you nod, before pressing both hands into his shoulders to push yourself up so you're straddling him, "But, Joel…"

Now face to face, you appear a bit dazed as you blink down at him, an adorable little pout painting your features. Joel smirks, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he waits for you to finish your thought.

"I missed you so much," you conclude, catching him off guard when you fist the front of his t-shirt and dive forward to slant your mouth over his.

You plunge your tongue between his lips and Joel can taste tequila there, can feel it too in the way you're kissing him; sloppy, hungry, eager.

"Only been gone a few hours, sweetheart," he chuckles against your lips.

"I know, but…after the cafe, we went drinking and–"

"No shit."

With what appears to be considerable effort, you push yourself off his chest and point an accusatory finger in his face. Your eyes narrow and Joel thinks you look a little too adorable for your own good.

"Watch it, Miller."

Joel grins.

"Mmmm, or what?" he hums, tracing his palms up and over your sides, which seems to distract you for a moment, your eyelids fluttering as a minute shiver visibly courses through you. You quickly pull yourself together.

Your blissful features quickly dissolve back into an overdone pout and Joel watches with amusement as you pry his fingers off your body. He could resist, but he doesn't, honestly just curious–and maybe a little turned on–as you collect his wrists in your hands and pin his arms down on the mattress beside his head.

Seemingly content with your work, you hold him there with eyebrows raised–and Joel decides to let you have the win.

"Can I finish my story, please?"

"Yes, ma'am," he smirks. You bristle at that but otherwise manage to stay on track.

"We went drinking, and it was really, really fun," you go on. You shift your weight slightly, and Joel smirks when he catches the moment you lose your train of thought at the feeling of his hardening cock beneath you.

"And?" he presses.

"I-I think I'm still mad at her…but it was…nice."

"That's good, baby," Joel murmurs, experimentally rolling his hips upwards just to watch your eyelids flutter. "I'm real proud of ya."

You exhale, making a sound that's almost a sob as you abandon your grip around his wrists to fold yourself over his chest again. You greedily kiss his neck and his ears and his face, and Joel lets you. Your drunken desperation is making him harder than he'd like to admit, and it's pretty fucking endearing to watch you suck your little marks into his skin with no inhibitions whatsoever.

"I talked about you a lot," you smile, clumsily resituating yourself so you're lying against his side, folding yourself in half so you're speaking the words against his belly.

"Yeah?" He rests his hand on the back of your skull, chuckling at the way you keen into his touch. "Talked about me how?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," you sneer just as you curl your fingers under the waistband of his boxers.

"What're you doin' there, baby girl?"

You peer up at him with a devastating puppy-dog stare, all wide-eyed and needy. "I missed your cock. I just wanna suck on it a little."

"Jesus," Joel breathes. He's powerless to fight you then as you tug his boxers down his thighs to reveal his semi-hard cock. He really shouldn't let you in this state but you're already wrapping your fingers around him and tonguing at his slit and it's too fucking late now. He stiffens fully in your grasp and promptly loses any will to stop you.

Then you close your lips around his length and take him as deep as you can, moaning like he's just given you the sweetest gift in the world.

"Fuck, yeah, you missed it," he grunts as you begin to bob, downright eager with it, if not lacking some of your usual finesse. You coat his cock with sloppy strings of saliva and move on him in an uneven rhythm but Joel's not gonna argue with a hot, wet mouth. Joel is more than happy to watch you take what you want from him.

"Messy girl," he remarks affectionately, stroking a palm down your spine to your ass, firmly cupping your cheek in his hand. "This all you wanted? Just to come home and let me stuff that pretty little mouth?"

"Mhm," you hum blissfully around him, spluttering a bit as you swallow him down again.

"Fuck, that's a good girl," he groans.

At that, you whimper, your cheek falling into his belly with your mouth still closed around his cock. You keep up the motions of your mouth for a moment, humming and moaning around him as you draw precum from his tip and suck it down greedily until he feels your jaw slowly begin to slacken.

He pets your hair and your body goes loose, heavy where it lays across his middle.

Joel can sense a shift in you then, your eagerness fading even as you continue to lap at his tip. Your fingers feel a little weaker around his shaft but you don't let up, lazily jerking him until he feels your hand go still, your lips barely grazing him anymore. You offer him a few wet, open-mouthed kisses to the head of his cock and then you go limp.

Joel waits a moment to be sure, peeking down at you questioningly.

Sure enough, you're asleep.

"Oh, baby," Joel sighs fondly. He squeezes your ass but you don't stir. Your slow, steady breathing lets him know you're really out, his hard cock forgotten in your grasp. You'll probably be embarrassed in the morning, but Joel's just stupidly endeared, hoisting you up into his arms and ignoring your half-conscious sounds of protest.

"C'mere, sweetheart, there you go."

He nestles up behind you, cradling you into his chest with his cock pressed against your ass. You shimmy back into him and Joel tries to ignore the ache, tells himself it'll feel better to fuck you in the morning when you've sobered up anyway. He reaches back to turn off the lamp on the nightstand and you whine at the loss of his body against yours.

"Joel," you whisper as he retakes his place behind you. "Did you come?"

He fights for his life not to burst out laughing. You're so goddamn cute.

"No, baby," he murmurs, kissing his favourite spot behind your ear. "Made me feel real fuckin' good, though. You can make me come tomorrow, alright?"

You hum contentedly, already drifting back to sleep. Joel pulls you in tighter, whispers that he loves you even though he doesn't think you can hear him, and it's not long before he's following behind you.

His alarm wakes him just as a beam of sunlight passes through his window, but it doesn't have the same effect on you.

You snooze peacefully with your back adhered to his chest, the gentle curve of your ass still flush against his cock. Your panties are gone; had you gotten up in the night? He can't remember now. It doesn't matter anyway, not when he can feel the heat of your body this close, bare flesh all soft and warm against him as the memory of the night before floods his senses. He'd fallen asleep with his dick still hard–aching–and within seconds of being awake, he's right back where you'd left him last night.

Not that it's uncommon for Joel to wake up horny when he sleeps next to you, but it's worse like this, worse that he's already felt your lips on his cock just a few hours prior, without getting the chance to come down your throat.

"Hey," he murmurs into your hair, but you don't wake up. You just move your hips backwards unconsciously, the hard length of his cock pressing warm between your cheeks. Driving him fucking crazy and you don't even know it.

Joel growls, a low, carnal sound he barely recognizes as he trails a hand down the side of your body. He cups your ass in his palm and spreads your cheeks apart, the tips of his fingers just barely grazing your hole. You shiver and Joel smirks. Sound asleep and you still respond to having your ass played with. Something about knowing you so well makes him that much harder.

Pliant and gone, you let him play with you, hands traversing every inch of your skin, up and over your belly to cup your breasts. His breath ragged in your ear, he gently twists your nipples just to feel them come alive under his touch. You squirm for him and Joel responds in turn, unable to help himself as he begins to slowly rut his hips against you.

"Sweet thing," he husks, feeling his touch grow rougher on your hipbone, your ass flush against his bulge as he grinds into you like a fucking teenager. "You don't even fuckin' know. Got no idea what you’re doin' to me, do you?"

He knows you can't hear him. Right now, he doesn't care.

He's wanted you like this since Costa Rica, too nervous to ask until you'd given him the okay all those months ago now. He's had you so many ways, and still you say you want more. He's not sure what he ever did to deserve you, but if one thing's been true from the start, it's that Joel Miller is not strong enough to deny you anything.

Something about this, though, feels decidedly selfish. His hand on your thigh, positioning your pliant muscles to his liking, bending your leg at the knee just so he can spread you open wider, slip his fingers between your ass cheeks and scrape them over your bare pussy; that's for him.

The sticky wetness he feels there–that's his.

Your spine arching in your sleep when he sinks two fingers into your warm, dripping hole–that's because of him.

"Still want it, baby?" he hums as he pumps his fingers in and out. "Still want this cock?"

He doesn't wait for you to answer. For once, he just takes.

You put up no resistance as he replaces his fingers with his cock, pulling your body back into him until his hips meet your ass.

"Fuck," he hisses as he bottoms out.

You're so warm, so tight and inviting and perfect around him.

You're so wet, slick pools of arousal coating the hairs on his lower belly, sticking to your skin where it touches his.

And you're so soft, all gooey and loose in his arms as he slowly rocks into you, as close as he can possibly get and somehow never close enough.

"S'my good girl," he breathes, "Take it just like that for me. Finish what you started, huh?"

He moves without haste, content just to feel you like this, close and confined under the covers. Experimentally, he reaches around you to touch his fingers to your clit, sighing in amazement when your pussy clenches on his cock, a wave of slick gathering at the place you're connected.

"Yeah? That feel good?" he says to no one as he gently circles your pearl. He's rewarded with a breathy little moan, the prettiest fucking sound he's ever heard. His hips snap against yours with more force now, jostling you with you every thrust. He can feel his control waning, and he's gonna wake you up soon if he's not careful.

Maybe he's done being careful.

Cock still buried inside you, he rolls you both so he's lying above you, your body prone to the mattress beneath him. Your fingers curl into little fists and then you gasp, eyelids fluttering against the light of morning. Something dark and animalistic twists in him when he watches the awareness creep across your face, the way your features contort and you strain to look back over your shoulder, piecing it all together.

"Oh my god," you whine when it clicks. "Joel, fuck, fuck–ohmygodJoel–"

"Shh, I know, baby, I know…I got you, you're okay," he babbles, folding over you to nip hungrily at your shoulders. You throw your head back and expose the column of your neck to him and Joel bites down there too just because he can. "Just had to feel you like this. You were so wet."

"Oh, fuck," you cry, voice still hoarse with sleep as Joel pounds into you harder. No reason to hold back now. "Fuck yes, Joel, take it."

"Yeah?"

"Please."

That's all he needs to hear.

With his arms wrapped firmly around your middle, Joel sits back onto his knees, taking you with him as he drapes you over his thighs and pulls you down onto his length. Your body still feels weak with sleep, almost passive in his grasp in a way he's not sure he should enjoy so much. He doesn't overthink it.

What he does is find your clit again, massaging his fingers over the bundle of nerves while he thrusts his cock up into you. A wanton moan pours from your throat and Joel catches it in a messy, open-mouthed kiss.

"There you go, there you go," Joel rambles when he feels you start to quiver, your pussy constricting around him as you spill listless, needy sounds of pleasure onto his lips. "Feels so good, don't it? Wakin' up with a cock inside you. This is what you wanted. Yeah? You gonna come?"

"Yesyes, fuck, yes Joel, I'm coming–"

"I know," he grins, "I know, baby."

He knows because he feels it. He feels you pulse around his length, feels your muscles seize and loosen, feels your little clit twitch beneath his fingers as he coaxes you through your high. He also feels something new, something wet and warm and sinful.

"Oh, good girl," he groans. "Fuck–look at that."

You're gushing for him, liquid pouring out over his fingers and his cock and his balls, staining the sheets beneath you. You writhe in his arms but Joel just keeps fucking you, fucks you until he's drawn every last drop from you. Fucks you until he's coming too, clutching you against him as his cock spasms between your walls and paints your insides with spend. Hot cum leaks out around his length, drips down your inner thighs, and makes a mess of your already messy pussy.

He comes and comes and then it ends, strangled moans fading into ragged breaths and heady grunts of release.

"Jesus," Joel pants into the hollow of your ear as he slowly comes down. "You alright?"

"Yes," you sigh. "Holy shit, thank you, Joel. Thank you."

He's got no fucking idea what for.

He pulls you off his cock and turns you in his lap to face him. Your arms coil around his neck and you cling to him like a koala, your face buried in his chest. He holds you there, because he thinks you might need that–and also because he wants to.

"How'd I get so lucky, huh?" he ponders as he gently strokes your hair.

"I'm lucky," you protest softly. "I was trying to tell you that last night."

"I thought you were tryin' to suck my cock."

You laugh breathlessly, unravelling yourself from him just enough to let him see your face. You curl your fingers into his hair in a possessive sort of way that would probably make him hard if he hadn't just come so thoroughly.

"That was supposed to be an act of gratitude."

"For what? I didn't do nothin'."

He tries to keep his tone as light as yours, but his insecurities always bleed through no matter how hard he tries. You sense the earnestness in his voice, and match it head on.

"That's not true. You've made everything better," you whisper, touching your forehead to his. "I'm so fucking happy you're in my life."

He's gonna have to ask you exactly what all went down with Heather. He figures for now it can wait.

You kiss him and he kisses you back, his furrowed brows softening as your lips move against his in a now-familiar dance. The sun rises over Austin and though he's not sure he'll ever have the words to tell you, Joel thinks he's pretty damn happy you're in his life too.

"So I was thinking," you say around a mouthful of eggs the following Saturday.

"Uh-oh," Joel grins.

You fix him with a look and his grin only widens.

"Anyway," you continue pointedly, shovelling another forkful of eggs into your mouth. "I was thinking–I'm kind of on a roll here. You know, in terms of, like, building bridges or whatever."

"Sure," Joel nods.

"And I'm thinking that…maybe I'm ready to talk to my mom."

Joel's eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, like…" you shrug, focusing on your breakfast as you talk out what's been on your mind since you'd seen Heather last weekend. Being with her and hearing her side of the story had given you some foundation with which to forgive her. It's been gnawing at you that you haven't really given your own mother that chance. Perhaps if she could just see how happy you are, she'd eventually come around.

You explain all this to Joel, who nods along and hums his agreement.

"I just feel like I've…closed myself off to her and it's not really fair for me to just expect her to magically see the light, you know? I mean, look at dad. He's been coming around more, he's been seeing us together. And he's basically okay with it all now. Maybe it's just me, you know? Maybe I need to let her in."

Joel shakes his head, smiling at you affectionately. "You're too good for your own good, you know that?"

You scoff and wave him off.

"Whatever. But don't you agree?"

He appears to mull it over, sipping his coffee for a long moment before eventually sighing.

"I do," he nods slowly. "But I also think…you got a right to protect your peace. Lettin' her in means exposin' yourself to all the shit that might come with that."

You bite your lip and nod. You know that. You know he's right. You know it might blow up in your face to try to repair that relationship. But some little voice in the back of your head keeps telling you to do it anyway. A cloying, aching need to just…put things back in place.

"I guess I'm just tired of feeling so angry all the time," you confess. "I'm just…walking around with all this unresolved bullshit hanging over me and it's…I mean, it's exhausting. I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I saw Heather, you know? If I potentially have the power to do something about that, then I think…I think I should."

Joel smiles, his sweet brown eyes crinkling at the edges.

"Then I'm with you, baby," he says, reaching across the table to cover one of your hands with his own. "Whatever you gotta do."

You nod resolutely, spurred on, as ever, by his unwavering support.

On Sunday, it rains.

Heavy showers pelt against Joel's windshield, his truck parked in the driveway of your parents' home. A quick text to your mom the day before had confirmed she'd be home around this time and that she'd be more than okay with you stopping by for an afternoon coffee. Unlike when you'd sat outside the cafe in this same truck a week ago, you don't feel nervous to see your mother. Instead, you feel a strange sense of duty and an unflappable air of confidence. All you have to do is show off how happy Joel makes you for a couple of hours. What could possibly be easier than that?

Plus, you're not really worried about your mother coming at you with any kind of outward disdain. She can be oddly cordial when she thinks someone is mad at her.

"I'll stay close by," Joel tells you. "Take you home when you're done."

You frown. "What? You don't have to wait for me, that's silly."

Joel just shrugs. "Ain't no thing. Don't want you takin' the bus in this weather."

And Joel thinks you're too good.

"I wish you could just come in with me."

It had been the only stipulation your mother had outlined, or at least that's how you'd interpreted her text asking, It's just you coming, right?

You'd burned with rage at that, typed out an entire message in Joel's defense, but he had insisted it was fine. One thing at a time. He could sit this one out.

"Next time," he murmurs, leaning across the centre console to kiss your cheek.

"Yeah," you nod.

He wishes you good luck, offering you a goodbye kiss before you're pulling your hood up over your head and bounding through the downpour to the front door. Your mother is pulling it open before you've even stepped onto the welcome mat.

"Quick, quick, come on," she hastens you with a hand around your shoulders, guiding you inside and out of the pouring rain. You catch her look back at Joel pulling out of the driveway before she's closing the door behind you both.

"Oh, shoot, look at you," she tuts, prodding at the wet fabric of your hoodie. "Let me get you something else to wear–"

"It's fine, mom," you insist before she can go pulling you something hideous from her closet. You pull your damp sweater up over your head so you're in just your t-shirt, noting that hardly any of the rainwater had managed to leak through. "This is fine, see?"

"Alright," she smiles, sort of shyly. You've been apart so long, and it normally doesn't feel so weird falling back into that mother-daughter routine. Extenuating circumstances, you suppose. She glances down at the hoodie in your arms.

"Do you want to hang it up in the bathroom and let it dry? I'll get some coffee going."

You return her smile as best you can. It certainly sounds like she's trying. It certainly sounds like something a mother would say.

"Yeah, sure," you nod, already skirting around her to your way down the front hall. "Thanks."

You vaguely hear her hum something in response as she makes her way to the kitchen.

The main-floor bathroom is just down the hall, a renovation project that's been half-in-the-works for years, basically abandoned now that your parents almost exclusively use their en suite. Maybe they'd have finished it by now if you still lived here.

You flip the light on to find it looks much the same as it did the last time you were here; tiles partially laid, sink without a hot water knob. You carefully drape your hoodie up on the shower curtain rod still noticeably lacking a shower curtain.

You're flattening out the sleeves when you hear the doorbell chime.

Having grown up here, you respond instinctively to the familiar melody, poking your head out of the bathroom just in time to see your mother beat you to the door. She swings it open, and there on the front porch, soaked from his head to his shoulders, is Joel.

Your heart just about stops.

"Oh," your mother greets him, uncertainly looking back over her shoulder to where you're standing wide-eyed in the hallway.

"'Lo, ma'am,” Joel says. From here, you can barely hear him over the rain outside. "I don't mean to intrude. Just wanted to leave this."

You frown as he holds something out to your mother, something you can't see from this angle.

"Oh," she says again, sounding theatrically surprised. You roll your eyes.

"She left it in the truck. Just thought she might need it. That's all. I'll get outta your hair now."

He catches your eye over her shoulder then, quickly shooting you a sweet, heart-breaking smirk that makes your chest swell.

"Thank you, Joel," your mother says. "I'll, uh, make sure she gets it."

He smiles at her politely and offers her a parting wave, taking off at the same time she begins to close the door after him.

"What is it? What was that?" you ask, hurriedly emerging from the hallway to meet her in the entryway.

"Your umbrella," she tells you, hanging it up on a coat hook. "That was nice of him."

She says it absentmindedly as she makes her back to the kitchen, this time with you in tow.

Huh.

"Well, he's a really nice man," you say simply, leaning your elbows on the island while she tends to the coffee pot.

"Hm," she nods.

She busies herself, deep in thought in a way that makes you uneasy.

"What?" you press her.

She pours you a mug of coffee, preparing it just how you like with cream and sugar–the same way you've taken it for years. She hands it to you over the countertop, brows still furrowed together in apparent confusion.

"He drove you here?"

You frown. "Yes?"

"Kind of a far drive in the rain."

"So?"

She ignores you.

"What's he doing while you're here?"

You're struggling to follow her train of thought. But you think maybe you know what she's getting at. Why she can't understand Joel doing something so selfless, why she probably can't seem to understand you and Joel at all.

The thing about your mother is that there always needs to be something in it for her. Every favour, every helping hand; it can never be truly inconvenient for her, and it must always somehow benefit her in return. You know of people out there with mothers who are truly selfless, mothers who are there for them, mothers who would drop everything at a moment's notice if their children so much as asked.

But that is not your mother. That has never been your mother.

You'd forgiven her for that long ago, convinced yourself it had just made you that much more independent, that much more self-reliant. And it did, but at a cost. That cost being someone in your life you could always safely count on, someone you could always trust to be there when you needed them.

Someone who would drive you in the pouring rain to a house he could not enter, just so he could wait for you outside and bring you home when you were ready.

"I don't know," you tell her honestly. "He just said he'd stay close by and that he'd pick me up when we're done."

She's still frowning, seemingly perplexed at the notion. "He's just waiting out there in his truck?"

You shrug. "I told you, mom. He's a really nice man."

"Hm," she says again, staring down at her coffee and taking a long, contemplative sip. "I guess he is."

You grin. It's not much. It's hardly anything at all, really. But it's a start. A seed you're more than willing to water in the hopes that eventually, maybe, she'll come around.

A/N CONT'D: thank you for reading! and now...a special sneak peek of the upcoming summer season. continue reading for the first 500 words of the next and final chapter of your summer dream. i love you all.

chapter vibes:

Sometimes life really feels like a dream.

Even in the monotony, even in the mundane. The morning commutes and the tins of cat food, the Sunday afternoons spent cleaning and the Tuesday nights spent falling asleep on the couch. And it's funny, how just like a dream, you move through the days as though time means nothing at all, everything blurring together until all at once, a year has passed.

Summer blooms, softens and warms you from the inside out. The fan beside the bed blows cool air against your clammy skin, but is no match for the heat between your legs, the overwhelming sensation of Joel's mouth fused wetly over your cunt.

He drinks you down like you're his morning coffee, ravenous and greedy as he hooks your legs over his shoulders and snakes his arms around your thighs. But he is in no rush, languid in the way he makes out with your pussy, whimpering and groaning at every soft, needy moan he manages to draw from you.

But then you claw at his scalp, tug on those gorgeous greying curls and whine. Joel smirks.

"Impatient," he mutters.

He's been lapping lazily at your cunt for the better part of twenty minutes now. You are not impatient. Luckily, as you've come to discover, Joel will never tell you no unless you ask him to.

"S'alright," he whispers, barely letting his lips leave you as he sinks two thick fingers into your core. You keen at the welcome stretch, and Joel purrs between your thighs. "Yeah, there she is. There's my fuckin' girl. You want me to make this little pussy come? Never can just wait, can ya?"

"Waited–long enough," you groan weakly as he nudges at that perfect spot inside you. "Please. I've been good."

You feel him smile again before he's pressing a chaste little kiss to your clit, his moustache tickling your skin.

"Yeah, you have," he breathes, and then he gets to work.

His tongue moves in tandem with his fingers, expertly finding a familiar rhythm he knows like the back of his hand by now. In no time at all, warmth pools down your spine and settles in your tummy, courses rapidly through your veins and tenses all your muscles. You come with dazzling force, grinding your clit onto his willing tongue with that insistent fist still tangled in this hair. Joel loves that.

In these moments, the dream comes alive. The mundanity of every-day life splits open and you realize, there is in fact nothing monotonous about this life at all. How could there be? Joel is here–Joel is still here. A year since you first shook his hand in an airport parking lot, a year in which it feels as though everything changed; through it all, Joel remains. Like a tulip in soil, perennial.

"Wanna take you away somewhere," he rasps as he climbs up your body to kiss and nip at the side of your face. "What do you think? Wanna come away with me?"

You're not sure if he means forever or a day.

"Yes, please," you tell him either way.

#jmrecs #dbf!joel #han

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milla-frenchy · 1 day

Text

WHAT THE FUUUUUUUCK?????

Ok, I love grumpy Joel, I love brat tamer Joel, and you got me HOOKED from the start 😍😍😍😍😍

The security guard approaches and Joel shoots him a glare so dark that he holds his hands up and steps back.

j<jhgkrglwvuyrglvb 🫠🫠🫠

Her shorts? lmaoooo I love her 😁

“Look at these slutty little shorts.” He tugs on the hem, your shorts now sitting just above your knees. Your pert ass is exposed to Joel and the night air. He tuts at the sight of you, “No panties. Little fuckin’ tease.” You whimper at his words, slick starting to coat your thighs. “You’re the one standing back there doing nothing.” You taunt.

Holy fuck. HOLY FUCK. She's priceless 😍

You hear his buckle clinking, he grabs you by the hair and jerks your head back. “Open you mouth,” he says with a snarl. You obey him and he slides the folded up leather between your teeth. “Bite down on this. You can speak to me again once you’ve learned your lesson.”

Yes Joel 🫠🫠🫠

And then the ending? Joel leaving her like that and YOU leaving us like that???

You genius. It was so good 👌🤌

Shhh...Just A Little Bit More

DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader

18+ MDNI

Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three (Soft Version) || Part Three (Spicy Version)

Summary: Joel catches you somewhere you shouldn't be, twice. CW: all p no plot! age gap, spanking, dirty talk, parental guilt, brat and brat tamer, sub/dom dynamics, edging and degradation kinks if you squint AN: I found the bottom right photo on Pinterest and @mermaidgirl30 said it screamed DBF!Joel. I have never written for DBF before so please be kind. Dividers by @saradika-graphics - thank you for all your amazing graphics and dividers, I'd be lost without your page.

“Let go of me, you fucking psycho!” You’re practically yelling over the music of the club, wrenching your arm from Joel’s strong grasp. The security guard approaches and Joel shoots him a glare so dark that he holds his hands up and steps back. “What the fuck, Joel?”

“What are ya doin’ here, sweetheart” he demands, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m working!” You stomp your foot and then get right up in his face, pointing a finger at him. Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, hanging out in a strip club one town over. “The real question is, what are YOU doin here?”

You’re only a bottle girl, you don’t get on the stage and have no intentions of stripping. It’s good money, great money actually. At 22 you’re already well on your way to having a down payment on a condo, it’s just too bad you’re having to lie to your parents.

“With my crew, they picked the place. I’m takin’ you home. Go get your coat.” He crosses his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The music is pounding in your ears, the air thick with smoke. Even in the dimly lit hallway you can see the way Joel’s eyes rake over your body, taking in the very tiny Jean shorts and bralette you’re wearing.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spin and flip him the bird as you walk away. You know he’s staring so you give a little extra wiggle of your ass as you walk away. Joel Miller, staring at your ass. The fourteen year old inside you does a happy dance - that version of yourself had a tiny crush on him. Too bad he’s a stuffy, grumpy asshole now. You miss the fun, young Joel. He used to do cannonballs in the pool with you and his daughter Sarah. She was a few years older than you, but he was much more fun than your father. But now? Now he’s a certified prick. Thinking he can drag you away like some sort of barbaric caveman. He’s not your dad, even if he was, you’re an adult.

When you finish your shift you head outside and pull up your Uber app, men often want to do shots with you so even though you never get drunk at work you also don’t drive there.

See, Joel. I’m responsible.

“Let’s go,” his voice is deep, still angry with you. You didn’t see him waiting by the door so you jump.

“Jesus. You fucking scared me.”

“Watch your language. Get in the truck.”

You grumble under your breath that he should kiss your ass as he holds the door open for you. He stalks around to his side of the truck while furrowing his brow and shaking his head.

“Got somethin’ to say young lady?”

“Ya,” you say, slumping in the seat and putting your white vans on his dashboard, “kiss my ass.”

He presses his lips in a thin line, you can see him eyeing your long toned legs from your peripheral vision before the engine roars to life and he speeds off down the gravel highway.

When you pull up to the house he hops out of the truck and is right on your heels as you open the door.

“I’m fine, Mister Miller.” You say with a sneer. You know he hates that, he has told everyone he’s ever been introduced to to call him Joel.

Joel steps into your parents house and calls your dad’s name. “What the fuck! Joel! Shut up!”

He calls for him again and your dad comes stumbling from his room, tying his robe around his sleeping attire. “Joel? What’s going on?” He flicks on the light, squinting against the brightness. “It’s 3 in the morning.”

“Just thought I’d let you now know that the guys at work wanted to go to The Skin tonight. Caught your daughter working there.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?!” You yell, pushing at his broad chest. Your dad stands there stunned. Eyes wide and mouth agape. He thought you were working as a nurses aide overnight at the hospital on weekends. He’s even seen you leave the house in scrubs. All a part of the web of lies you have weaved.

“Don’t speak to Joel that way,” your dad snaps. “Go to your room young lady. We’ll talk about this later.”

“Kiss my ass, cowboy.” You practically spit at him as you stomp to your room. As you round the corner your mom is standing in the hallway clutching her crucifix necklace. You have a sudden urge to hiss at her with the way she’s looking at you, like you’re a disappointment. A sinner, the worst kind of person in her eyes.

The next morning was the fight of all fights with your parents. Your dad tried to ground you, your mom started shoving church pamphlets at you. They wouldn’t even fucking listen.

“IM NOT A STRIPPER,” you yelled at them over and over again.

Finally, when the yelling ceased, your dad said in a very quiet anger, “young lady. I FORBID you from going there again. Is that clear? I don’t care if you’re 22 or 42, if you live under my roof, you live by my rules. You’re going to go to continue going to your university classes during the week, and on weekends you will be home. Studying. Helping your mother with the chores. You will go to bed at respectable hour. If you need money, you ask us. Is that clear?”

You blink back tears and head to your room, slamming the door behind you. You are NOT quitting that job.

When the next weekend rolls around you say goodnight to your parents at 10pm and head to your room. You worked it out with your boss to work the midnight to 4 am shift. So you wait - ear pressed to your door until you finally hear your parents go to bed. You sneak out the same way you’ve been sneaking out for years and run down the street with your newly embroidered denim shorts in hand to meet your Uber.

You peel yourself away from the men and the booze around 2am to get some fresh air, exiting through the back to the dimly lit alley. You take a big inhale through your nose before you see it. The truck. Joel’s truck. And Joel. Leaning against the truck box, arms crossed, one foot up on the tire.

You flip him off and then turn back towards the back entrance to the club. He’s on you so fast, grabbing the back of your bicep in his large hand. “You little brat. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Read the shorts, MISTER Miller.” You say it as much venom as you can muster.

His eyes rake down your body and you can almost feel them burning into you. It feels so good, you never want him to stop. Your pussy throbbed when he called you a brat and you wouldn’t be surprised if your light jean shorts hadn’t been soaked through already. When his eyes reach the pocket he sees ‘Kiss My Ass, Cowboy’ stitched in baby pink lettering and his grip tightens.

He’s fucking furious with you. Furious that you’re here. Furious that other men get to see you dressed like this. Furious that he wants you so fucking badly. But mostly, furious because he knows you want him too and he’s a weak weak man when it comes to pretty little things like you. He yanks you back against his body and you let out a pained moan.

“Don’t make me punish you,” he says coldly in your ear and you fight to stop your knees from buckling.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say breathlessly.

Joel’s lips graze against the shell of your ear, hand gripping so tightly that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “So that’s what you want? You want me to punish you? Put you in your place? Huh?”

You grind your ass back against him, “you would dare, Joel.”

His other hand clamps down on your hip as he steers you to his truck, walking you around so no one can see the two of you. He opens the back door and pushes you forward until your legs are against the cold steel frame of the vehicle. “You don’t get to call me that. You call me Mr Miller from now on. Understood?”

“Go fuck yourself, Joel,” you emphasize every vowel of his name, digging deeper. Pushing him. Pushing to see how far he’ll go. You get off on being a brat, and by the way his hard cock is pressing into your ass, he does too.

He unbottons your shorts then lifts you slightly and pushes your upper body down onto the seat, the truck is high enough that your feet are dangling, ass stuck out for him. “Look at these slutty little shorts.” He tugs on the hem, your shorts now sitting just above your knees. Your pert ass is exposed to Joel and the night air. He tuts at the sight of you, “No panties. Little fuckin’ tease.”

You whimper at his words, slick starting to coat your thighs. “You’re the one standing back there doing nothing.” You taunt.

The cool night air spreads goosebumps across your skin, your clit twitches in anticipation of his touch. Other men have fucked you hard to get you to shut your mouth. And finally, FINALLY, you’re going to get fucked by Joel Miller. However, you grossly underestimated the different between the boys were with before and the man behind you now.

His hand strikes your cheek hard and you let out a loud pained yell. “What the fuck, Joel!”

“If you’re gonna be a brat,” his hand lands on your ass again, “you’re going to get a spanking.” His voice is harsh and rough as he hits you a third time. The sound of his skin on yours echoing through the cab of his truck. He hits you again, not caring about your cries of protest.

You’ve never been spanked before and you’re thrown by your bodies reaction to it. At first you were shocked, then humiliated and then the pain and heat travelled to the base of your spine and you found yourself starting to get turned on. Arousal pools in your belly with each strike of his palm and when your pussy throbs the humiliation starts to creep back in. Are you supposed to be enjoying this so much, is this what Joel wants?

You bend your knees up, trying to make space between your bodies. One of his strong hands wraps around your ankles, pinning them to the back of your thighs as he spanks you again.

“Stop! I’m sorry. I’ll - “ he strikes you again, harder than the last few times and there’s no more pain, every slap is full of pleasure. You let out a deep moan, your pussy practically gushing onto the leather seats. “Oh fuuuuck.”

Now that it’s turning you on it almost eggs Joel on. “Put your hands out in front of you,” he commands. Your arms shoot out, stretching them across the seat above your head. “Such a needy little slut. You’re drippin’ all over my fucking seat, baby girl.” He strikes you again and your arms flinch. “Keep them there.”

Your ass is starting to get pink, his splotchy handprints covering it. The world around him starts to fade, all that he can see is you and your ass - and he wants to make it hurt. Then he wants to make it good. So very good.

His strikes keep coming, he’s like a man possessed. “Stop, Joel. Please.”

He drops your ankles, then uses his hand to spread your thighs apart, the denim biting into your knees. “Shhh…just a little bit more. Look at this messy pussy. You don’t want me to stop.”

He hits you again and you start to hate how much he’s right. You don’t want him to stop, you’re on the verge of coming and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re sure the second he’s near your clit you’ll explode.

Both of your cheeks are glowing red and Joel finally stops. You’ve both lost track of how many times he’s hit you. His large palm rubs the marks. You know you should keep your mouth shut, but fuck do you love to rile him up.

“Are you done now? I have work to get back to.”

Joel growls behind you. You hear the sound of his belt undoing, the leather whipping out from the demin loops. “I’m sick of your goddamn mouth, baby girl.”

Your eyes widen in fear, stomach twisting up over the thought of him striking your sore ass with his thick leather belt. Your pussy, however, flutters in excitement. Slut, you think to yourself.

You press your teeth into the rough leather, waiting for his next move. His hand comes across the back of your thigh and it’s a whole different sensation. The pain shoots straight to your core, the walls of your pussy clenching harder than your teeth do as you whine out a high pitched squeal. On instinct your hands shoot back, knees bending to protect yourself from him. He steps back from you, without his heat you’re left in the cold air.

“Arms up and legs down,” he says in an eerily calm voice.

You whimper again, grinding your teeth against the leather of his belt before slowly peeling your arms and legs away from your body, returning to Joel’s desired position. You’re so wet that it’s staring pool along the leather seat of Joel’s truck, your hips slipping slightly.

“Dirty little thing. I’m tryin to punish you and you’re sopping wet.” He steps forward and lays a loud sharp slap with perfect precision right across your sore thigh.

You yelp again, whining as your lash line fills with tears. This is not what you thought would happen when Joel threatened to punish you. And you definitely didn’t expect to fucking love it. You’re so turned on that you feel dizzy.

Joel’s lips come to your thigh. Light kisses and his scratchy facial hair peppering along your red hot skin. “Fuck me,” you say around the leather clamped between your teeth.

Joel laughs into your skin, kissing along the handprints he’s left on your ass. You’re squirming underneath him, pushing your ass towards his face, desperate for him to make you come. His hands grip around your shorts and your whole body relaxes at the thought of him finally fucking you. “I need you to listen to me now, ok?”

You nod fervently and he lets out an amused laugh. You arch your back at him invitingly, but instead of removing your shorts he yanks them back up. You moan out in protest as he lifts you down from the truck. His strong fingers work to do up your shorts before he spins you. You look like a wreck; mascara smudged under your eyes, cheeks pink, eyes glazed and dopey looking. Cock drunk and he hasn’t even given it to you. He grabs the belt and you release it for him. It’s killing him not to fuck you right here and now.

His hand cups your chin, squeezing your cheeks and locking eyes with you. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

You try to nod but he’s gripping you so tightly. “Yea? Then you need to do what I say. Ok?”

“Mm-hmm”

“Go in there and quit. Then come back out here and I will fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it in your throat.”

Taglist:

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#jmrecs #brat tamer #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x you #dbf!joel #mountainsandmayhem

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