#fic: bd!joel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

divinehedons · 10 months

Text

call it fate, call it karma

next: hard to explain | masterlist

pairing: bd!joel miller x f!reader

word count: ~4.3k

summary: it’s summer. and on a weekend visit to your college beau, you meet a texan contractor with wandering eyes. what he sees is what he wants. what happens if he wants you?

warnings: this is a dark, explicit fic, minors DO NOT interact. big, girthy age gap (reader is in her early twenties, joel is in his late 40s to early 50s), masturbation, possible dubious consent, explicit p-in-v sex, fingering, cheating(? but it's mutual HAHAHA). please let me know if i missed anything!

reblogs and comments are much appreciated, please let me know what you think!

Finals, madness, nights of mindless regurgitating, and finally, peace. Emerging from your last exam and into the allure of summer break, you try and picture the weekend you had planned with Christopher: a weekend at his father's house, with the promise of a pool and actually, finally spending time together, and driving you home by Monday while he returns to his mother's place.

The two of you pull into Texas, discussing what to have for lunch, whether or not you should bring some for his father. "It'll be nice, no?" you tell him as you add the extra box of pizza. "And hey, if he doesn't want it, let's devour it over movies in your room." He smiles at you, and you ruffle his hair just as he parks in front of the familiar house.

When you're reintroduced to the older mister Miller, you see him at the tail-end of a phone call just as your presence is announced. "You've met before, we had her at Thanksgiving," Christopher reminds, carrying your bags in.

You hear a woman's voice, just slightly, from the phone (... mean it, no strange women…), mister Miller looking up with a rushed, "I got it, I got it…" before finally setting the phone down. He offers you a warm smile, nodding in recognition before welcoming his son with a shoulder squeeze. He says your name, and you try not to smile at the way he says it with that almost-indistinguishable drawl of his. "Still not tired of him, sweet pea?"

You remember that Thanksgiving. How you and mister Miller bonded over when you drove Chris's car back and panicked over a flat tire you caused while he was off with some buddies. You bonded because he taught you how to fix a tire that afternoon, him laughing at your small hands struggling with such big boy paraphernalia as you coined it.

You smile back at him and shake his hand. "Thanks for letting me stay over the weekend, sir," you say just as your partner disappears upstairs to set down your things. Just then, he tuts, taking a slice out of one of the pizza boxes, along with a newly opened bottle of beer.

"Told ya, doll. It's just Joel. Don't have too much fun, yeah?"

—

Joel didn't mean to stare when he last saw you. When you were kneeling over, lowering the jack after he taught you how to change a tire. You were in your colleague sweater, but your pants… dear God, your pants. Your pants that perfectly hugged the curve of your ass struck him dumb. He barely managed to shake himself out of it to tell you that youbdid a good job.

But since then, he had been imagining your ass. It's as if the sight of a college girl turned him right back to a drooling, horny teenager that never had enough. He did keep his hands to himself, never making a move. And he would've been happy to let you and Christopher be if he didn't start picturing you in those lonely nights when the house is quiet and he has his cock in his hand.

But it was impossible.

Just the thought of your ass cheeks red, bearing a handprint that perfectly fit the contours of his own hands, your curves, your flesh, the smell of your skin— such was the callings of his desire as he bursts, imagining that glass-eyed look on your face if you were taking his cock.

There was no shame in it, when he did finally give in to his desires. How could he not? You had fuck eyes for days, eyes that, if he was being completely honest, would damn God himself to the very gates of hell. There was no shame, too, when he realized just how much his own son wasn't taking care of you.

So seeing you again, now sprawled in a lovely little swimsuit as his own son holds you by your waist as you wade into the pool. He watches from the kitchen, knowing his looks would go unnoticed in the shade. It was burning outside, and it was still Friday. The street was quiet with everyone still away for school and work. He just couldn't stay away from you. When Christopher told him you were with him, he had cancelled plans, even work, on a Friday, under the pretense of bad health and multiple other excuses. He knows, for a fact, that he'd take every chance to see those fuck eyes of yours even if you never asked.

He knows, too, if he was getting you in his bed, he had to be creative about it.

Still, Christopher could be a little more discreet. Instead, there you were, nodding to him as he corners you in his own pool in his own house, reaching down to pull your bottoms aside to fuck up into you. He's gotten to know your quirks enough. How your creased brows indicate your frustration. Or how your shoulders tense from apprehension. And right there, where Christopher attempts to find his own orgasm without even a care in the world for your own, you're so frigid he would think you bathed in the Arctic.

The charade doesn't last long. Three minutes, by his count, until you're pulling away, swimming to the nearest floatie to lounge while Christopher tires himself out with a few laps. It's then that Joel pretends to swoop in, bringing out a few drinks in service of the two of you, slipping on some sunglasses so you wouldn't notice him ogling your willing body as you thank him.

"Got you that grape drink you liked last time, doll. Help yourself to more in the fridge if you want it."

"Thanks m-" he lowers his glasses to playfully raise his brow at you, "J-Joel. Thanks, Joel…" He flashes you a smirk, placing his glasses back on as he seats himself on the nearest spot, pretending to be in need of some sun.

"Chris, your mom's waiting for you to call," he reminds his son, leaning back as he sips from his beer. Just then, your beau sits up, wiping his mouth as he stood, beelining for the nearest door inside.

"Thanks for reminding, dad!"

Alone, with you, like this, Joel notices the way you rubbed your thighs together, the way you sighed after each sip. The hidden frustration as you floated about on his pool, displayed like a delectable centerpiece. It was clear as day: you didn’t get to cum and it’s bothering you. It took a few more minutes before he spoke.

"So why'd you fake it, sweet pea?"

The question comes to you out of nowhere. Your head shoots up and you look at him with those wide, bewildered doe eyes as you immediately stammer to try and find the right words. You try and play it off with a chuckle, but you feel your cheeks warm up. "What- wha…"

He chuckles himself, sipping from his bottle before leaning back with crossed arms. "It was three minutes of him wriggling, darlin'. No one was going to cum from that." He watches you sit up completely, every fiber at rest jumping into action.

"You saw that?" Your sweet voice, Joel noted, trembling from what he only assumes as embarrassment riddled with shame. "I… I-" You clear your throat momentarily, biting your lip gently before sighing, turning over. “You kind of answered your own question, Joel.” There is a beat of silence, palpable and tense as you feel his gaze wash over your vulnerable body.

The two of you hear Christopher, blundering his way back to the pool now that the phone call was out of his way. Joel sighs,getting up with a stretch as he passes by you again to disappear into the house.

“Our secret, doll. I’m nice that way.”

–

Over dinner, Joel speaks to you with a smile, perhaps he was feigning interest. Perhaps he truly was interested. Whatever it was, you feel the palpable weight in the air at the knowledge of what you shared with the older Miller. Christopher, clueless as he is, spends most of dinner with his hand on your thigh, chiming in every now and then between bites.

“So what was the exam you took before the two of you drove here?” Joel had been asking while you sipped through your drink, your brows raised as you smiled.

“It was some English Literature course," you said, meek as ever, managing a small smile up at him as he hums with interest.

"Ah. So that Shakesword guy or something? What did'ya like from him?"

"Shakespeare, actually… And I loved Macbeth."

"When we met, she was nose deep in Hamlet, if I remembered right." Christopher soothed his hand up and down your thigh, to which you nodded in agreement.

"Tell me about Macbeth."

You take a deep breath, feeling both eyes on you as you carefully swallowed down the lump in your throat. "It's the usual things. War, misery, curses, witches. But Lady Macbeth… that was where it was." He tilts his head to the side, nodding at you to continue. "She demanded divinity to transform her into a man. To take up the mantle from her weak husband. To take charge."

He chuckles softly, almost teasingly and knowingly, even. "Shit, doll, didn't think you had that many words in ya."

The rest of dinner goes by in relative ease, with Christopher letting you know he's meeting with some buddies tomorrow after he drops you off in the center of town. He promises, however, that he'll pick you up at three in the afternoon.

As you lay in bed that night, you glance haphazardly at your phone as it lights up in the late night silence. A message from Joel, a contact you saved under Mr. Miller back when you met over Thanksgiving. The message was simple enough.

Sweet dreams, Lady Macbeth.

—

Three in the afternoon on Saturday, you're seated where Christopher says he'll pick you up, bearing a bag for the sweater you bought him. You messaged him fifteen minutes earlier. On my way to the bench, bubba! Without a response, you think he's driving.

Above you, dark clouds seem to gather where once it was only bright summer sun. You quietly grip your bags tighter as you count in your head. He'll be here soon… I'll be out of the rain in no time.

You quietly count down the seconds. Six hundred. Five hundred ninety-nine. Five hundred ninety-eight…

Three P.M. turns to four, then four-thirty. You message Christopher two more times.

It might be raining soon, I have an umbrella!

Make sure you're not in the rain too much!

You stand under the umbrella, pacing every now and then, trying not to appear skittish, specially when the thunder and lightning began to roll across the sky, making the hair on your arms stand on edge. It was troubling, to be outside during a thunderstorm like this.

You count in increments of six hundreds. Ten minutes pass by again. Then twenty. Then thirty.

A particularly raucous lightning makes you jump out of your skin, and you swallow your pride, dialing the next person nearest you. The nearest person you'd think would answer.

And he does, in a record of two rings. He says your name and you audibly sigh in relief. "What's the matter, doll?"

"Joel, uhm… has Christopher answered your calls? We were supposed to meet at three-"

"Christ, doll, it's storming. He still hasn't gotten to you?"

You hesitate. You wonder if you were going to be too harsh on your beau if you admitted he wasn't. Just then, another strike of lightning has you confessing. "He… he wasn't answering my texts, I don't know where he is."

You hear him cuss at the other end, along with the sound of his keys and his heavy steps.

"Stay put for me, sweet pea. Where are you waiting?"

You tell him, and you don't even count to three hundred before he's pulling up in front of you, opening the passenger door and yelling at you to get in.

"Christ, doll, you're freezing! How long were you out there?" You feel his gaze on yours as you attempt to say your thanks, still visibly shaking from being out in the rain so long, combined with the fear of lightning. He immediately reaches back to retrieve the towels he had brought exactly for this scenario, covering you up in them as you finally manage. “Thanks, Joel. D-did… did Chris leave a word, or anything? I’ve been trying to reach him…”

You don’t miss the way he tries to hold back a smirk, buckling your seatbelt as he sighs. “He said he’s drinking with some buddies, doll. But I thought he already told you. He didn’t mention you’d be needin’ a ride or anythin’.” He pauses, as if for dramatic effect. “Actually, it sounded really loud when he called." You look right back at him, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you processed his words.

Oh. Oh.

“H-he probably just forgot. Or something,” you try to justify as Joel begins to steer the two of you through the storm and back to his house. “I just hope he doesn’t get sick from the weather or anything…”

“God, sweet pea, you’re just so goddamn sweet even if he’s an asshole, huh?”

It shuts you up for the rest of the ride. He escorts you inside, telling you he’ll hand you a set of clothes. That you should be rinsing off immediately. You do not see the way he stares at your soaked shirt, your skin so fucking close and yet so far. You obey, so quickly that it makes his cheeks hurt from smiling. It was so natural for you, and it makes him absolutely feral. Most of all, you’re so vulnerable right now. And it hatches a wretched plan in his head before he could stop it.

He takes a shirt and boxers from his own closet, under the guise of wanting to keep yours and Christopher's stuff private. And he opens the door, expecting to see you mostly naked. Oh, God, sweet pea, I'm so sorry! Feign innocence, caring and comforting.

What he didn't expect was you seated on the counter, a photo on the screen of your phone. One of his son, your beau, holding another woman that was so clearly not you, posted by some friend. He didn't expect to see you teary-eyed, cheeks bright red as you hiccup.

"I… I guess that's why… he wouldn't pick up…"

He sighs, tilts his head to the side. "Oh, sweetheart…" He rushes to you, embracing you gently, damp clothes and all, into his warm arms as he shushes you gently. You try to resist him when he begins to help you with your clothes. You try to resist him when he offers tenderness. But it's all so rare, so careful, with such gentleness that you find yourself agreeing with anything he asked. Let me draw you a bath, doll, meaning he'll watch you soak. Let me help you with that, meaning he wanted to be the one to strip you down.

"He never treated you like this, doll, did he?" The look on your face is enough to answer him. He clicks his tongue, leaning his ear close as he slips your unclasped bra down your shivering frame. "Oh, darlin'. Let me show you how a lady should be treated."

It's how you end up in the warm bath he had prepared, settled between his legs with his mouth on your neck, his hands running up and down your sides until you were shaking and giggling from the touch. "Pretty li'l thing like you shouldn't be neglected. He's a damn fool."

He begins to ask for things while he's already doing them. He drifts his hands to your breasts and whispers, "Okay if I touched ya like this?" He pinches your hardened nipples and says, "Feels good, doesn't it, darlin'?" You wriggle in his grasp, ticklish and alight, tethered in the receeding waves of emotion as he draws you into some semblance of relaxation, smoothing out each tense muscle as he speaks to you with such unabashed softness.

Your first moan escapes you before you could stop it. One hand flies to your mouth as you immediately attempt to pull away from Joel. And yet, he holds you, chuckling right against your ear that you feel the smirk on his face spreading against the curve of your ear.

"I bet he never made you feel that good, baby doll."

You try and argue, left stammering just as his left hand holds your left leg up against your torso, his right hand moving down to cup you by your cunt. You feel him hardening behind you, pressed against the small of your back, grinding against your skin there. He kisses the back of your ear, chuckling as you struggle to hold back the rest of your moans. "Come on, doll, make some noise for me… otherwise, we'll be here all night, because I'm not stoppin' 'til you use that fuckin' mouth of yours to prove I'm better than him.

He dreamt of this. Your willing frame whining and moaning from every touch he gives you. You could not even conceal the fact that you were on edge and you were wet. He spreads you with his fingers, pausing as he nibbles on your earlobe before finally, finally sinking his fingers right where you're pink and lovely and warm. The fact that you felt bursting from just two fingers had you shivering with excitement, a surprised squeal escaping your mouth.

"J-Joel… Joel…"

"You can take it, sweet pea, stay close to me…" His left arm relaxes its hold on your left leg, drifting closer to begin rubbing soft, languid circles right on your aching clit as you lean your head back and sigh dreamily, feeling that familiar ascent into almost-forgotten bliss. It was something you only felt when you fucked yourself. It was something that eluded you in your sex life. You feel Joel's eyes on your face; when your features contort with the pleasure, when your hands palm at his beard, pulling at him needily to plant a kiss to your wanton mouth.

It's almost too quickly that you're cresting, feeling your sides burn from want as you grind into his hands in an effort to cum faster. And just when it was three seconds away, he tears his hands off of you, revelling in the sounds of your protest, your whining as you looked up at him. Already, too, he's getting out of the tub, draining the water as he picks you up in his arms.

"I know, I know what you need…" Still, you whine, thighs rubbing together. "But if I'm making you cum, sweet pea, I'm doin' it right by making you cum all over my sheets. Got it?" You nod, wrapping your arms around him as he carries you, bath water dripping and all, taking you to his bedroom with his slept-in sheets and oscillating fan to the side. He lays you among the sheets, smirking as he trailed one hand down your front, against your skin with butterfly caresses. Like an observer in some strange gallery, the fount of art and beauty exhibited for his own decrepit sensual pleasure.

“Y’wanna tell me what’cha want, dollface?” You try. You try to look away from his fingertips running up and down your stomach, knowing the power beneath that skin. You feel the restraint on his face, along with that smirk you just can’t seem to wipe off of him. “Yeah… you’re just absolutely desperate for me, no?”

“Want you… please…”

“Where d’ya want me? Here?” He drifts his hand to your neck, giving the slightest squeeze. You whine, and he drifts his touch to your willing mouth. Two fingers, delving into the warm wetness of your tongue, the softness of the inside of your cheeks. “Certainly not here… you’re certainly not mouthy.” Then he drifts his touch to your stomach, drifting lower, lower, and lower… “That’s it. I’m getting warmer, yeah?” He chuckles, his free hand moving to turn your face towards him as he looks at those softened features, your willingness laid bare before him. “What do you want from me? My cock? My mouth?”

It’s so much attention, all-encompassing, and all at once. You wonder if his touch strikes like lightning. And if it didn’t, then why does he make you quake to your very bones? He continues his teasing, pushing and prodding at you so closely where you want him, but never close enough. The charade continues before you eventually find the courage, eventually pushed to the brink of such wanton need.

“Both.” You grit your teeth, feeling the warmth coating your cheeks as you whine. “Both, Joel, please.”

He chuckles darkly, rewarding you with a bruising kiss, beard digging into your cheek, your chin, your body spread eagle and willing. “That’s a good, fuckin’ girl…” He rewards you by settling between your legs, spreading you wide open, and fucking his tongue on your weeping cunt. His growls emanate against your willing flesh, making you tremble, the vibrations otherworldly as he pushes you right through your first orgasm that weekend. One, you hoped, that wouldn’t be the last. “You’re so fuckin’ easy and he can’t even make you cum? Fuck, doll…” You squeal, fingers tangling into his hair as your hips grind, chasing waves of that sweet release until your eyes roll back, your body surrenders, and you are left limp with from his minstrations.

“We’re not yet done, doll. Think y’can handle more of me?”

It’s when you see that dark look on his face, A shadow hard to miss once you saw it. He kisses his way up to your face, wrapping your legs around his waist. He does not waste time, immediately pinning you down so he can fuck his hard cock into you, letting your moans and whines echo into the empty house. The stretch is glorious, his cock hitting places you did not know could be reached before. And all the while, he’s watching your face and your body contorting to the sensations you could not explain. Body electric magnified, body electric divine. He thrusts once, twice– and already, you were reeling in another orgasm.

He calls you beautiful, and he makes you understand that you are– that the iniquity of others was not your doing. That you deserved to feel good and light and wonderful. All while he sinks his teeth against your shoulder, your arm, sucking hickeys throughout the expanse of your skins, marks you would not be able to explain. It would have continued that way, and it should have, had Joel not heard the crunching of gravel on his driveway.

He pauses, shushes you gently, cupping your face as you whined desperately, clawing against his bare chest as he clears your hair from your face. “You’re gonna have to keep quiet f’me, doll. Think ya can do that?” You nod desperately, taking one hand to press against your mouth, anything to make him move again and give you one more release. One you were so desperately close to. “You don’t want him to hear us, did’ya?”

It’s when you realize, when you recognize the familiar heavy footsteps of the man who abandoned you, the lover who should be doing this. You looked up at Joel with a panicked gaze, his palm pressing harder against your mouth when you began to make some noise.

“I don’t have the patience to tell ya again. Don’t make this harder for yourself, baby doll.”

It’s when he fucks you with abandon, barely concealing his own moans as you tremble in his hold, locking your legs around his waist as he thrusts. Despite only one or two light groans escaping him, you see how tense his jaw had become, clenching, grinding beneath the skin. You know he’s close, and yet he waits for you, reaching down to rub your aching little clit. He rubs you repeatedly until the riptide of pleasure swallows you whole. Your eyes gloss over, a singular, weak whimper escaping through your self-censorship, your warm breath absorbed by Joel’s palm.

Just a few moments more, and his cock buries deep into you, silencing himself by sinking his teeth into the curve of your shoulder. It is a way to silence himself, to relax, to completely surrender his orgasm to you. His warm spend fills your aching walls, his body falling against yours as he sighs.

Just then, you hear, right across the hall. You hear Christopher. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He steps out into the hallway. It’s followed with him raising his voice. (Hey dad! Have you heard from her?) Joel manages a soft chuckle into your ear. “Fucking asshole, no?” he whispers against you as he takes a deep breath.

“Thought’cha were meetin’ her at three?” he manages, and you’re shocked at how composed he was still was, and yet how possessive his hold on you had become.

If he gets to have you for five more minutes, he’ll take it. The truth was, it felt like you belonged right there in his bed, sheltering his cum within your warm walls as you demand affection, soft in aftercare. Call it fate, even if it’s such a loose term. Were you really fated for him when he took you for himself?

When Christopher leaves, he chuckles, collapsing against you again as his breath escapes him in ragged increments. You fall asleep almost immediately, as if you found home in his week-old sheets.

Call it fate, call it karma. He’d still fuck you again if he had the choice.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #boyfriend's dad!joel miller x reader #boyfriend's dad!joel #bd!joel #joel miller fic

1K notes · View notes

macfrog · 11 months

Note

Good Morning Lovely, I hope you have a great Sunday! I was wondering if you could possibly write boyfriend's dad! Joel x female reader where your boyfriend was caught cheating on you but you go to his dad's house and found comfort in him. 💗

guest of honor

yep yep yep bfd!joel is something i have never written before but i would love to write more. thank u sm for this request!!! i hope you enjoy 🙏

pairing: bfd!joel x fem!reader

summary: mr. miller didn't raise his son to be a cheat. so when he turns out that way, his dad decides to make it up to you.

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap everybody), fingering, dom!joel, praise kink, joel being protective, age gap (reader is early 20s/college age, joel late 40s), cursing, alcohol consumption, cheating

word count: 4k

Three days. It’s been three days.

Three days since you last saw him, arm waving out of the car window as he drove off after dropping you back home. You’d gone to crazy golf. He’d text you that night to say goodnight, and text you first thing the morning after to wish you a good day, and then…nothing.

Radio silence.

Your boyfriend wasn’t the best at communicating, this was true. But three fucking days? Something was weird.

You: Hey, I was gonna swing by later if you’re around?

You: Everything ok?

You: Hello????

You: Getting kinda worried now

When your third call goes straight to voicemail, you decide to head over and see what’s up.

Your car squeaks to a halt outside his house. Both his car and his dad’s truck are parked in the driveway, and you glance in his driver’s window as you pass. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Nobody answers when you ring the doorbell, so you slowly turn the handle and let yourself in, closing the door quietly behind.

You call out his name. Nothing.

Leaning to glance down the hallway, you notice the sliding door in the kitchen open, the silhouette of his dad sat on a lounge chair out back.

You head upstairs slowly; maybe he’s sleeping, or at his desk with his headphones on.

The top stair creaks when you step on it, and you pause, hearing movement on your left. From your boyfriend’s bedroom.

You say his name, and the noise stops dead.

“What the f…” you whisper to yourself, wandering over to the door. “Are you in here…?”

You push the handle and the door slowly swings open. The curtains are closed, it’s dull. You can only just make out the discarded articles of clothing strewn all over the carpet, leading to the foot of the bed, on which…

“Oh, fu–”

Your boyfriend jumps up, stark naked, some girl clutching the bedsheets to her chest. Your breathing falters as he reaches for his underwear.

“What the fuck?” you yell, backing away from the door. He holds a hand out to stop you.

“This isn’t…No, hey, come back!”

Spinning on your heel, you rattle back down the stairs, vision blurring with the tears rapidly bubbling. You reach the bottom of the stairs and steady yourself on the handrail, before making off for the front door.

“Hey, hey.” A strong arm suddenly links around yours as you flurry by, having heard all the commotion. “What’s goin’ on, darlin’?”

Mr. Miller turns you and takes the back of your head in his rough hand, gently tilting your face up to look at him. When he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, his jaw tightens, brows furrowing, and he yells upstairs for your boyfriend.

“Get – the fuck – out here. Now!”

The bedroom door opens, you hear shuffling, and the figure of your boyfriend, still in his underwear, materializes on the landing.

Mr. Miller’s hand hasn’t left yours as he turns to look up at his son, and you cower behind his broad shoulders.

“What the fuck is goin’ on? You got someone else up there?”

“Dad, it’s–”

“Don’t you fuckin’ lie! I heard you come in with someone. You tellin’ me you’re cheatin’ on your girlfriend in my house?”

Your boyfriend’s shoulders drop and he glances back toward his room. “I…It was a mistake.”

“Get her out. Both of y’all. Get!” he roars, thumb pointing over his shoulder.

When his son’s scrawny form wobbles back to his bedroom, Mr. Miller gives you a half glance over his shoulder and his hand squeezes yours. He leads you down the hallway without a word, taking you to the kitchen, where he pulls a barstool out for you to sit on.

“Water?” he asks.

You don’t reply. He understands.

He closes the fridge. “Whiskey.”

As he’s pouring two glasses, the pale face of your boyfriend leans around the doorframe.

“Listen, I…”

“Didn’t I tell you to leave? You, too!” he yells down the hall, and a pair of footsteps scuttle off. “If you ain’t out that door in the next ten seconds, you’re gonna know all about it, son.”

With that, his head and shoulders disappear, and you listen as the front door opens and slams shut again.

Mr. Miller slides your whiskey over the counter to you and downs half of his in one swig.

“Damn boy,” he mutters, licking his lips. “Don’t know what’s gotten into ‘im. He always this much of an asshole?”

You shrug, still staring at your glass.

The truth is he didn’t seem like an asshole when you met him. He was confident, and smart, and funny. He had a crowd of boys around him anywhere he went, and you liked the attention y’all got whenever you were with him. Liked being on his arm. Liked being kissed by him in a bar full of people.

Was there anything there, between you guys? Past what other people saw? Not so much. He liked video games, and football, and cars. You liked watching and waiting for him to quit playing so you could hang out, weren’t so much into football, and liked his car, only when he’d take you out in it.

Sex was…uneventful. Little foreplay, little payday for you. Most times it was five or so minutes of grunting, a pause inside you while he filled the condom, and then a heaving sigh as he tumbled off from on top of you to lie beside you in a sweaty mess and pull out his phone. He liked watching gameplay videos on YouTube once he’d finished.

So, all in all, not an asshole, per se. He was always decent to you, always made sure you got home safe and held your hand in public.

The issue was he wasn’t not an asshole, either. He was perfectly lukewarm. Right in the middle.

Fuckin’ boring.

This is the first real asshole thing he’s done. The first step in either direction of extremity – first leap, really.

Realistically, it’s a bit of relief. Wow, you do have a personality after all. Just sucks that this was what he’d chosen to do with it.

It stings. You feel your cheeks heat as they flush with embarrassment, the memory of you pushing that door open replaying over and over in your head. You need a sedative, something to make you forget what just happened.

“Hey,” Mr. Miller says again, thumb holding your chin. “You okay?”

You lean into his touch. “Not really. It’s…whatever. He can do what he wants.”

He’s quiet. His eyes track your lips as you speak, and when you finish, he looks back up into your eyes.

“He don’t deserve a girl like you,” he whispers.

You smile a little, tilting your head and looking up at him.

“I’m gonna make you feel better. Make it up to ya for raisin’ him. How’s that sound?” Mr. Miller leans back and sets his glass down, clapping his hands. “Want some food?”

You giggle, brows furrowing. “Food?”

“I’m starvin’. Was waitin’ for you comin’ over so we could have dinner. Didn’t know that was goin’ on, but…”

“Food sounds good,” you say, cutting off the end of his sentence. “Thanks, Mr. Miller.”

He shakes his head, brows knitted together, and insists, “Joel, baby. Call me Joel.”

Joel rustles up some burgers, insists that you stay put in your stool and don’t move a muscle as he cooks.

“Guest of honor,” he tells you, “your job is to sit there, look pretty, and let me do all the work.”

You oblige, making polite conversation and accepting when he pours you another glass of whiskey. Y’all talk about plenty, from work, to college, to whose food is best out of Tess’s Steakhouse or the Southwestern Grill.

“I’m tellin’ you,” Joel mutters, tossing a handful of fries in his mouth, “I’d give ‘em both a run for their money.”

“Alright, but you’d be a threat to Southwestern quicker than you would to Tess’s.”

“See, now we gotta go to both to really compare ‘em,” Joel says, and you swear you notice your heart skip a beat.

You hesitate on your answer, watching him carefully. He’s leaning a little toward you, licking the salt from his fingers.

“Maybe we should,” you finally reply, cocking an eyebrow.

Joel smirks and stands up, taking your plate on top of his.

“Let me help with the dishes,” you say, and he shakes his head in response.

“No, darlin’,” he protests, holding a hand out as you follow him to the sink. “I’m hostin’ ya, I’ll get ‘em.”

“C’mon,” you say, lining up beside him, your shoulder meeting the middle of his bicep. “I don’t wanna just sit letting you do all the work all night. Let me help.”

He gives in and hands you a towel, before plunging your plates into the hot soapy water, and handing them to you to dry.

“Just throw ‘em on the rack,” he murmurs, “can put ‘em away later.”’

You can feel the heat radiating off of him just standing next to him. The sleeve of his flannel brushes off of your bare skin as you work, making your shoulders tense. Joel’s rigid too, facing forward at all times, staring out of the window instead of meeting your sneaking glances.

You pile the last plate onto the rack and turn to face him.

“I’m gonna…run upstairs and just grab a few of my things before I go,” you tell Joel, and he nods as you head out of the kitchen.

Your boyfriend’s bedroom is still dark, curtains blowing in the gentle breeze, sporadically letting sunlight in like your unsteady breaths. You open your bag, blindly lifting anything you’ve left here during visits. A lipstick, a hairbrush, a teddy bear you got him from vacation last summer.

When you’ve scanned the whole room, you turn to head out and notice a familiar silhouette in the doorway.

“What a fuckin’ mess,” Joel mutters, and you laugh as you make your way over.

He’s stood in the doorway, so you turn and squeeze by him, back to his chest. His hands come to rest on your hips as you pass, and your breath catches when you feel them squeeze.

Joel shuts the door and shakes his head. “It’s like he’s twelve years old.”

“Nah, that’s unfair. To twelve-year-olds.”

He scoffs. A pause. Then, “You sure you’re alright, baby?”

You lean back against the wall, bag hanging from your crossed arms.

“I’m good. Thank you again for dinner. You really took my mind off of…everything.” Your eyes flit to the door behind him.

Joel takes a step closer to you, hands stuffed in his jean pockets, and your heart quickens.

“Just wanted to make you feel better,” he breathes.

You can feel the blood pumping around your body like tidal waves circulating through you. Your breath falters, chest rising and falling quicker, and you feel something flutter between your legs.

You glance up and down the hallway. Whatever comes over you, the whiskey, or something more, you’re not entirely sure, but it makes you step away from the beige wall and close the space between you both even more.

“One of these doors yours?” You nod up the hallway, and Joel’s gaze instantly clouds over.

His eyebrows flinch, eyes flicker across your body just for a second, and he nods. Slowly.

“At the end.”

“Hm,” you muse, pushing your bottom lip out and wandering down the hall.

You have no idea what the fuck you’re doing, but Joel’s at your heels, following you toward his door. When you nudge it open, you turn, back to the door, and fall in.

His room is painted a dark grey, bed sheets to match. There’s not much in the way of furniture, a dresser over to the left, right by what you assume is the bathroom, and another over on the right under the window. A mirror stands by the open closet door, and a TV hangs from the wall beside the door, over your right shoulder.

Plain. Simple. Classic Joel.

You take a few steps inside, and turn, looking back at Joel, who’s leaning against his doorframe, watching you.

“Never been in here, have you?”

You shake your head. “’s what I expected.”

He laughs. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. Looks like your room.”

Joel’s eyes dance over your face, your neck, along your shoulders, and down to your chest. He looks back up to meet your gaze and your eyebrows lift.

“Just one thing missin’ from it…” he grumbles, slowly walking over to you.

You feel the ache that’s been growing between your legs suddenly intensify. You clench your thighs.

Joel lifts his hand, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger.

“…you.”

You’re panting now, arms dropped to your side. Your bag falls from your loose grip when he takes hold of your shoulders and runs his hands down to your waist. Rough hands pulling you into him, against him, where you feel the swell in his pants.

“Joel…” you whisper.

“Hm?” he asks, chin lifting.

“Want you to…” Your throat holds onto the rest of the sentence.

He cups your face with his hand, tilting it up toward him. “Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to fuck me. In here.”

“Yeah?” he asks, starting to walk you backward to the bed. “You want me to take care of you, baby?”

“Mhm.”

He pushes you back onto the mattress, his smell all over the sheets. And then, he leans down, his body all over you.

He takes your wrists and pins them above your head, thigh between your legs.

“Gonna show you what it feels like to be fucked by a real man,” he growls, head dipping to kiss along your neck. “Gonna make you feel real good, pretty girl.”

You buck your hips and he laughs into your skin, teeth grazing against your throat.

“So desperate,” he purrs, shoving you further up the mattress.

He leans back, taking the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your body, exposing your bare chest underneath. You lay back and watch his eyes, heavy with lust as they scan over you, and you feel yourself wetter and wetter against his thigh.

“So pretty for me, sweet girl.”

His fingers find the waistband of your skirt and he hauls it down your legs, discarding it on the floor. You’re in just your panties now, laying sprawled out on your boyfriend’s father’s bed, soaked through, desperate to be fucked.

Joel’s hand cups around your sex, feeling how wet you are for him already. He slides your panties to the side and draws a lazy finger through your folds, coming to rest on your clit, where he circles around your sensitive bud.

Your back lifts, hands coming down to lock around his wrist. Urging him to keep doing it, but begging him to do something more.

His thumb stays on your clit, two middle fingers dipping to your cunt below. Your hands resume position above your head and you bring your knees up either side of you, allowing him access to your core.

Joel inserts his fingers inside you, and you bite back a scream. He curls them, hitting the spongey walls of your cunt, stretching you out good.

You’re breathing his name, chest rising and falling in time with his wrist pumping, before he pulls his hand from your core and you watch as he pushes his fingers between his lips, sucking on you.

He lets them go with a pop. “Sweet as honey, baby,” he coos, and a filthy grin paints across your lips.

“Alright,” Joel murmurs, taking hold of your waist.

He flips you over in one fluid motion, and with both hands on your hips, hoists your ass up in the air. His finger hooks under the band of your panties and pulls, releasing it with a snap back against your waist. You whine, face buried in his sheets.

Joel’s hands trail from the back of your knees upward, toward your aching cunt, where he massages the insides of your thighs, drawing desperate moans from you.

You hear the clink of his belt buckle, the sound of it sliding out of his pants and the thud when it hits the floor at his feet. The undeniable sound of his zipper being tugged down, and the ruffle of denim being shoved halfway down his thighs.

He presses his cotton-covered bulge against your lace-covered pussy, letting your slick rut all over his boxers.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and brings a hand down onto your ass. You jerk forward, moaning.

“Joel,” you whine, “just fucking do it. Fuck me, please.”

His hips pull away from yours only long enough for him to drag his boxers down before they’re right back against you, cock sifting through your soaked folds.

He groans as his length glides along your slit, gathering your slick all over his tip.

“You ready, baby?” he asks in a hoarse voice, breath stammering already.

“Mhm,” you breathe, almost shoving your hips back into his just to feel him.

He eases his thick head in first, and you feel yourself already stretching around him. You gasp, the feeling almost searing, before he pulls all the way out and strokes himself a couple times.

“So fuckin’ wet, darlin’. So good for me.”

When his shaft is coated in your juices, he pushes in again, this time not stopping. He goes slowly, allowing you to adjust to him, your back arching, chest pushing further into the mattress the deeper his cock reaches.

When you feel his balls against your clit, your hips connected once again, you exhale deeply.

“Fuck…” you whisper, and you hear him breathe a laugh. “You’re so…fucking…big.”

“Yeah? Aw, baby girl. You got no clue what you’ve been missing.”

His cock drags out of you, and, despite the intense pressure, you whine when he leaves. His tip still between your folds, he instantly pushes back in, getting faster and rougher with each thrust.

Joel places a hand on the small of your back to steady himself as he reaches a fast, punishing pace, fucking you like it’s all he ever wanted to do. His hips snap against yours, your thighs beginning to burn from the position. You feel a heat dripping from your belly to your cunt, swirling around, coil reeling.

“He ever fuck you like this?”

“N-no,” you whine, fingers gripping Joel’s bedsheets. The pressure between your legs is almost painful, his huge cock fucking into you so hard your mind runs blank, the only thought Joel, the only feeling…Joel.

“No,” he repeats, slamming his hips into your ass harder. “Need a real fuckin’ cock to make you feel good, treat that little pussy how it deserves.”

You’re listening to the words he’s saying, but not really hearing them. Your mind is blank, overcome by the feeling of his length fucking in and out of you; the perfect pain when his tip hits the edge of your cunt, the stretch of his thick cock, his balls slapping against your core when he bottoms out.

“Fuck, Joel,” you moan, squeezing the sheets until your knuckles whiten. “Wanna cum all over you.”

Joel groans, his head falling back at the sound of your whimpers. “Gonna make you cum, baby, make you cum real good. He ever make you cum?”

You shake your head. “Never.”

“Poor baby,” he tuts. “Never been able to cum for him, have you?”

You can’t answer him a second time. In your silence, you feel his hands on your shoulders, dick still thrusting in and out of you, and he pulls you up to his body, flush against his chest.

His arms snake around you, one around your waist and the other drawing circles around your swollen clit. You lean your head against his shoulder, hooking your left arm around his neck.

“Feel good, baby?”

“Uhuh,” you moan, turning to look at him.

Joel turns to face you and his jaw lowers, lips finding yours in a wet, messy kiss. You moan into his mouth as his fingers drill into your clit.

“Gonna…cum…all over…you,” you whimper, and he nods.

“Let me feel you, darlin’.”

You begin to slip in his grasp, feeling your cunt tightening around his cock and the heat in your stomach scorching. A few more thrusts and the room goes white, stars crowding your vision as you sob out.

You fall forward back onto the bed, limp with the pleasure between your thighs. Joel keeps the pace up, chasing his own high.

“So – fuckin’ – good for m-me, pretty girl,” he mutters, pounding into you.

You’re a soaked, sweaty, fucked-out mess, you know it. And you fucking love it.

When Joel’s thrusts become staggered, you know he’s close. You don’t move, save for your hands finding a hold of his sheets again, bracing yourself through the overstimulating feeling of him rutting into you over and over again.

He lets out a quiet groan and pulls out, pumping himself a couple times before his warm cum spills all over your back. The sound of his moans and the feeling of him emptying all over you are almost enough to wind that coil again.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes when he’s done, hands holding onto your ass. He gently massages you again, and you groan at the feeling.

“Lemme grab a towel,” he says, and his warmth disappears for a few seconds.

He returns from the bathroom and wipes your back with a soft towel, holding you up by the waist until he’s done, when he lets you go and you collapse onto the bed on your stomach.

“Been waitin’ so fuckin’ long to do that,” Joel pants, falling onto the bed beside you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You close your eyes, thinking back over all the times you’ve been here, the nights you’ve stayed over, when Joel’s in the house. Thinking of how he might’ve been looking at you, the thoughts running through his head. Knowing you were in his son’s room, knowing you were doing stuff with him that Joel wanted to be doing to you.

It fills you with equal parts longing and fucking arousal.

You both lay in a panting, sweating state of bliss for a while, eyes tracing down each other’s bodies.

Your hand crosses over to lace through Joel’s on his chest, and he smiles softly at you.

“Good?” he asks quietly.

You nod, eyes closing over in your exhausted state. “Good,” you whisper.

He nods reassuringly and squeezes your hand.

The moment – is it even a moment? – is cut short by the sound of a car pulling into the drive. The door slams shut and footsteps trail to Joel’s front door, which opens with a call of, “Dad?”

He sits up, coolly, almost unbothered, and taps you on the shoulder, before getting off the bed and opening his door.

He wanders out into the hall, to the top of the stairs, and you push yourself off of his bed, legs burning, and start getting changed.

“Yeah?” you hear Joel call.

Your boyfriend asks if you’re still here. “Her car’s in the drive.”

“She’s just grabbin’ her things. Made her dinner, made sure she was alright, since you were a fuckin’ dirtbag.”

You hear your boyfriend sigh as you slip back into your sneakers and leave Joel’s bedroom. He doesn’t move, doesn’t turn, but holds a hand out behind his back, and you freeze.

“Do me a favour ‘n put the dishes on the rack back, would ya?” he calls down to his son.

You hear him walk through to the kitchen, and Joel turns to you. He nods once down the stairs, and you sneak past him, his hand on the small of your back.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, your fingers around the handle, you turn back. Your boyfriend’s stood in the kitchen; eyes locked on you.

Slipping out the door, you nod to Joel.

“Thanks again, Mr. Miller.”

#joel miller #joel miller fic #bd!joel #bd!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #boyfriend's dad!joel #boyfriend's dad!joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #bfd!joel #bfd!joel miller #requested

2K notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 1 year

Note

Would you please write a boyfriend’s dad fic 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Maybe the bf ditches her while she’s on vacation with his family and Joel knows his son is a fuck up so he wants to show her what she’s missing

Sky’s out, thighs out

1.5k / boyfriend's dad!Joel x f!reader

thighs out masterlist

Warnings: NSFW 18+, non-outbreak AU, big girthy age gap (unspecified), public, exhibitionism, oral & rimming (f receiving), unsafe P in V sex, creampie, squirting, dirty talk, use of daddy (prone bone anon).

☀️🌤️☀️🌤️☀️🌤️☀️🌤️☀️

You're sunbathing face-down in a pool chair and a shadow falls over your book. Joel squats down in front of you. “Hey,” he says gently. You wipe your eyes under your sunglasses. He takes your shades off, but leaves his own on. “Don’t worry 'bout my dipshit son, okay? Not worth the tears." He catches one with his thumb as it rolls down your face. You glance up and he asks, "Wanna go for a swim or somethin’?” You avoid your reflection in his shades. Your eyes fall to his meaty thighs which are stretching his short, retro swim trunks under his wife beater tank top. He follows your eyes down, then his nose twitches, smugly tugging at one corner of his mouth. “We could do that, too." He’s shameless, but you've ignored it so far.

One day, lounging on the beach, he caught you looking. He said, “sky’s out, thighs out," then sensually rubbed his upper inner thigh. You said, “sky’s always out. . .” “Exactly.” His beard pattern only enhanced the mischief in his smile, his hand resting at his groin. He wet his lips, still looking at you. Then he adjusted himself. The next day, he snuck up on you from behind when you were reading at the edge of the pool. He silently swam up and stood behind you, pressed himself up against you, and you didn’t do anything about it except think about him while you fucked his son later.

"Thanks." You take your sunglasses from his hand and go back to reading. You're looking at the book but can’t focus with all these butterflies between your legs.

You're thinking about how big and hard Joel felt against your ass in the pool and now hot it was that he stole that moment, no matter how creepy. The way he loosely wrapped one arm around you under the water, and you didn't flinch as he ran his hand over your stomach, just barely dipped his fingertips into your suit, and whispered, "good color on you." His soft grunt when he pressed himself harder against you before sinking back and floating away just in time for Jack to come back outside.

"Plenty of time to ourselves," he says as you stare at the words on the page. It’s a rooftop pool shared by several units, and the other units have been empty this week. But there are higher roof tops nearby with direct lines of vision. Someone waved from their barbecue the night before and invited y’all to join. It's a friendly area, lots of vacation condos.

“Alright, I’m gonna make this easy on ya,” Joel says. “Want me to stop, I will, but you gotta say stop.” You throb at his words. He knows exactly what you need right now - for him to take charge.

He starts by massaging your back. "Damn fool to even glance at another chick.” He kneads your muscles lower and lower, then gropes your ass with an "Mmm." You put your book down and rest your head on your hands. He slides his hand into your swimsuit bottoms and keeps sliding down, over your crack, a little further, until his middle finger reaches your dripping wet pussy. He inhales deeply and his voice lowers to a horny pitch as he swirls his finger. “Yeahhh," he growls. "That's what I thought. . .” he says as he touches you.

He swings a leg over the pool chair to straddle you, and as his crotch hovers over your ass, he brings his mouth to your ear. "You're so damn hot, baby," then dips his pelvis down for his raging erection to brush your swimsuit, sending all your blood to your loins. "Knew ya wanted it."

He uses one hand to slowly untie your swimsuit bottom on both sides, so slowly, as if any sudden movement might break the spell. Then he backs up toward the foot of the lounge chair and spreads your thighs. "Damn, this ass is perfect,” he says under his breath as he gives your cheeks a quick squeeze. Then he inserts a thick finger into your cunt and breathes deeply as he adds another.

“Pussy, too. . . Damn. . .” Your cunt twitches around his digits and he says, “Wooo.” He takes out his fingers, and his hands on your hips nudge you into lifting your ass and tilting your hips for him to plant his face. His facial hair prickles you lightly. He starts at your clit and when he reaches your warm, wet hole he gives it a kiss. Then he inserts his tongue and moans into you. After about a minute of eating you out, his tongue sharpens and drags from your entrance up to your asshole to tease you there while squeezing a cheek.

He gets on top of you and presses the hard bulge of his swim trunks into your ass. You moan softly and he says, “Yeah, that’s right.” He pulls his swim trunks down enough to free his stiff member then runs the firm tip through your folds. You gasp and he says “All yours, baby. Every inch.”

He notches the swollen head at your entrance. Your thighs spread and your hips tilt for him. "That's right, baby." He shoves himself into you with a grunt. You moan as his girth splits you open.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes and retreats half way. He plunges forward again and bottoms out with a long sigh. "Damn. . . tight 'n juicy. . ." He repeats the motion. "Perfect pussy." He lowers his broad torso against your back for a moment, pulling out all but the tip. The light padding of his stomach makes you twitch. Then with a deep thrust he pushes himself back up. He hovers over you and braces himself on both sides of the pool chair as he rails you. He’s hitting just the right spot. The tension builds in your core.

“Ah, fuck,” you gasp.

“Yeah, how’s this cock treatin’ ya, baby?”

“Fuck, it’s good.”

“That’s right,” he says into your neck. "Daddy knows best. . . Don't I, baby?" He latches onto your neck.

You start to say it back to him "Da-" and cut yourself off with a moan. He sucks your neck so hard it’ll leave a mark but you don’t care. All you care about is his cock inside you. You take a deep breath and manage, “yeah, Daddy.”

He pounds you with all the pent up tension of the week. You hear faint voices from a neighboring rooftop. It sends a rush of excitement through you, the thought of strangers seeing you get railed by your boyfriend’s hot dad.

Every time Joel buries his length in you, it rocks you forward on the chair and you grip it for dear life. You moan in near disbelief at how good he feels. Your chest feels light with energy.

“Jack ever fuck you this good?" Not even close.

“No,” you pant. “Never, daddy. . ." You could come any minute but don’t want it to end.

“s'what I thought." His cock is so stiff and thick. And length wise, even a smidgen more might be too much to take.

You look up and a shadow moves inside the clubhouse. “Wait,” you say. “ Is someone in there?”

He slows his hips. “Want me to stop?” He stops moving, and you can hardly stand it you’re so close to coming. You groan. No, you don’t want him to stop.

You’re trying to see into the clubhouse when he pulls out and you answer too late, “Nooo.”

He says “C'mere” and flips you over. The voices return next door. His strong thighs swell out from under his swim trunks and you follow them up to his commanding cock. His sun-kissed arm flexes as he pumps himself, then crouches down and lines himself up.

“Look at Daddy, don’t worry ‘bout nothin’ else." He plunges to the hilt with a loud sigh from both of you. “Damn you take it good,” he says. He begins to pound you, then puts your legs up in a mating press.

“I’m on the pill,” you manage to say between deep breaths. Hard to tell if he’s relieved or disappointed. His hips snap into you faster, and you forget about the shadow in the pool house and the people next door. When you’re on the edge of bliss, you say “I’m gonna–”

“Yeah baby, come on my cock.”

You pant.

“Come on, baby,” he says as he slams into you.

You begin to clench around him and moan obscenely, gushing on his cock.

“Attagirl.” He keeps fucking you through it. “Hell yeah,” he says between heavy breaths.

He plunges into you slower but harder and somehow further, bottoming out with a primal grunt. Then he pulses inside you and sighs loudly as his balls empty. His pulsations extend your own until he finishes coming and pulls out. Before he takes his still-hard cock away, he gathers his cum with the tip and pushes back inside.

When he's truly done, he swiftly pulls up his swim trunks, drags his hand through your juices and sucks his fingers. He crouches down, cups your cheek and says, “Hot as hell.”

Then he takes off his tank top and jumps in the pool. He turns around and rests his arms on the deck, facing you.

“Damn. . . Jack’s even dumber than I thought.”

Same Joel, same vacation:

thighs out on the beach

sun's out, guns out

Thank you so much for reading and engaging!

If you like this one, you might like the Speakeasy series which has exhibitionism, horniness, and talking. Like how he talks? Try night walks for similar energy (on the darker side). Instagram and Uber for another squirter.

ty for reading @dark-scape

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #bd!Joel miller #bd!Joel #joel miller/reader #boyfriend's dad!Joel #pedro pascal smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #joel miller/you #thighs out!Joel #thighs out!Joel☠️#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #love2cuck #toxic dilf summer

1K notes · View notes

pascalsbby · 10 months

Text

omg, I’ve been tagged by so many sweet people in posts like this, so I thought I’d make one too!!! these are all NSFW, 18+ - we all know I love a dirty joel.

please drop any other links/recommendations that you have 🤍

thank you to these writers for letting us escape our world into yours for a while, don’t know what I (or carnal!joel) would do without ‘ya.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡

July 2023

against mr. miller’s truck (not named) @chaotic-mystery

any brat tamer! joel @chloeangelic

attentive (ezra) @the-ginger-hedge-witch

biéten @netherfeildren

don’t you see? @pascalisbaby

cool about it @sinsofsummers

polaroid (not named) @velvetmud-h0e

sharing is caring @inlovewithquestionablecharacters

a madness all-consuming @divinehedons

‘tis but a scratch @strang3lov3

side note: xtremely high atm so apologies for my mistakes 🤭 like for real I’m on another planet brb

202 notes · View notes

joelsgreys · 6 months

Note

girlie stop it!!! I can’t wait for Cause It’s Delicate !!!!!!

ahhhh i’m so excited! part of me is kinda nervous cause chapter one doesn’t have smut and ofc my draft of the oneshot did but tbh i’m enjoying the exposition so so much and creating that tension before the smut comes and parts 2-4 all will have smut so i shouldn’t worry too much…🫠

but ANYWAY i hope you’ll like it!

#vee answers #fic: cause it’s delicate #bd! joel

2 notes · View notes

wannab-urs · 8 months

Text

Outtakes - Non-smut Vol 1

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist | Vol 2

Hi friends! Sometimes we want fics that are SFW or we just want to make ourselves sad or we need a little pick me up. I'm here with a list of fics that have no (explicit) smut as of posting! They may have smutty thoughts or mild allusions to smut, but those are marked in the warnings!

I know, me, posting non-smut fics.... but they deserve love too! Note that while many of these are rated T, they are posted on blogs that are 18+ so MDNI <3

Summaries and tags are, in most cases, provided by the author - please be sure to read them as some of these fics may have content you do not wish to read.

Updated 2/22/2024

Whiskey, Dark and Deep - Jack - @prolix-yuy

Summary: In the short time you’ve known Jack Daniels, he’s disappointed you three times. Warnings: M, violence, blood, injuries, gunfights, so so so much yearning, full on cowboy tropes.

A bearable weight - Javi G - prolix-yuy

Summary: New Years Eve is the holiday of new beginnings, and you take a leap to see if Javi might be one of them. Story Warnings: T, plenty of sweetness, more ridiculousness because I can’t help myself, some lightly spicy kisses.

One Hundred and Fifty Seven - Din - @theidiotwhowritesthings

Summary: Din fakes his death for some reason. They leave reader behind thinking he’s dead. Months go by and he returns but reader is like super not okay. Say she’s been super into spice because then she can see Din when she’s high. Anyway, happy ending but loooots of angst please! Also, can it be a bit between him returning and reader being okay with him being back?” Warnings: angst with happy end, drug use, drug addiction, mentions of death, brief canon violence, self loathing, anxiety, self doubt, boba adopts reader b/c i couldn’t resist

Bullseye - Joel - @softlyspector

summary: You never learned how to shoot a gun, Joel insists on teaching you. warnings: tensionnnnn, flirting and ✨touching✨, fluff

In an instant - Joel - @mishasminion360

Summary: Happy Birthday, Joel Miller... Warnings: Um…..😳🙄 (ed. note: I hate to spoil the story, but since this list is intented to help people avoid triggers, I must; Major Character Death (reader), angst, loss of pregnancy)

It would be - Din - @fuckyeahdindjarin

Summary (aka prompt I gave myself): ‘It would be easier if you just married him.’ Warnings: angst, jealousy, fighting, pining, yearning, no use of Y/N

Just Keep Breathing - Javi P - @swiftispunk

Summary: javi finds it harder and harder to keep up with the more physical aspects of his job. reader offers him some love and words of comfort. warnings etc: BODY REPRESENTATION <3 (reader is described as having thicker thighs, a belly, and crow’s feet), smoking + smoking related health issues, hurt/comfort, back massages, fluff, angst, bein in ur 30s/40s, established relationship. probably bad spanish (please correct me). NO USE OF Y/N.

Every Pilot Needs a Wingman - Frankie - @kikis-writing-world

Summary: You have been pining quietly over your neighbor for months. He hasn’t noticed, but apparently his friend has… Warnings: Smutty thoughts - grey sweatpants should be their own warning. Fleeting mentions of masturbation and sex toys. Swearing. Santi gives the reader tips on how to impress/pick up Frankie, I don’t know if that might come off as shady or triggering to people so I want to mention that.

Bucket of Bolts - Din - @toxic-seduction

summary: The dad and the dog he didn't want but its Din Djarin and a BD unit. warnings: Din being mean to BD. Man is so petty its funny

A girl walks into a bookshop - Ezra - @oonajaeadira

Summary: Set a couple of years after the events of the film. Ezra owns a bookshop. You walk in. Warnings: The coziest, softest romance. They do work up to intimacy, but it is sequestered in it’s own chapter–the “Interlude”–which can be skipped without losing any of the story.

Breathe Through It - Joel - @ezrasversion

Summary: you have a panic attack. Joel helps. Warnings: Descriptions of mental health conditions (namely PTSD, but can be read as any anxiety based disorder with panic attacks) / graphic description of a panic attack / some adult language/ references to past trauma (nothing explicitly described but inferred).

A kiss before dying and in death we combine - Joel - oonajaeadira

Summary: When Joel becomes infected, you make the decision not to leave him alone. Warnings: Blood and wounds. Bodily character death. Loss. Love that hurts. Sex of course, but blurred to the edges. Playing fast and loose with the cordyceps and how fast it grows.

102 - Frankie - @tieronecrush

summary: every week, you and frankie meet up at the same spot at the same time to catch-up and share a coffee. you’ve been his best friend for years. through thick and thin, always there. thing is, frankie’s been in love with you for nearly as long as he’s known you and hasn’t worked up the courage to tell you. warnings: no use of Y/N, post-film timeline, au where frankie doesn’t have a kid, use of pet names (solecita, mi mejor), high school level spanish (mostly swear words), unrequited love, self deprecation, alcohol use/drunkenness, smoking

Safe in my arms - Ezra - mishasminion360

Summary: Ezra harbors a secret hatred for his absent arm, but his feelings come to a head when his newly acquired handicap fails to do the one task he vowed never to fail in: keep you safe from harm. Warnings: Language; light angst; feelings of insecurity; body dysmorphia; brief allusions to smut; hurt/comfort; fluff.

Leave Off Your Wandering - Joel - oonajaeadira

Summary: An area native, long-term resident and shepherd in Jackson, you prefer quiet and isolation and the company of sheep. It seems this new resident Joel Miller and his young ward might share your interests. Warnings: M (possible canon violence and language. most likely non-explicit sex further down the line.) (ed. note; no smut as of chapter 2)

Peace - Joel - swiftispunk

summary: jackson era, post-tlou. you and joel discuss what it means to die. warnings: angst and fluff, discussions of death and dying, discussions of sex but nothing too explicit, age difference implied but not specified (joel is older than you but the number of years is not relevant), established relationship. NO USE OF Y/N.

This is me trying - Joel/Ellie platonic!! - swiftispunk

summary: jackson. a flashback on a film reel sparks a memory. joel tells ellie how it feels. warnings: angst, discussions of child loss, discussions of grief and death, ig fluff

Epiphany - Joel - @jksprincess10

Summary: Your new neighbor is a war veteran with a lot of scars. (1k words) Warnings: AU where Joel is in the military, age gap, PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, allusions to smut, suicidal thoughts, sad ending. Beware!!

Significant - Din - softlyspector

Summary: Din has been calling you riduur for months. You finally find out what it means, and get a little more than you bargained for. Warnings: pining, absolute FOOLS in love, bit of grumpy x sunshine, lil angsty, possibly incorrect lore, fluff, lots of Mando'a (translations for the Mando'a at the end

A pile of cards - Javi P - @undercoverpena

summary: it’s become a tradition. he presents you with a birthday card so you can collect his words, while he collects the expressions you share as you read them. warnings: javi through the seasons, narcos season two/three spoilers. cute, fluff. happy ending.

Fire - Din - jksprincess10

Summary: None Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, this is pretty short, mando still has the crest, canon divergent.

Honeyed - Joel - softlyspector

Summary: You hate being touched, but you might be willing to put aside your discomfort for a tattoo from Joel. Warnings: slow build, no outbreak tattoo!au, reader has issues with touch and is mostly touch adverse, tattoos and getting tattooed (the reader only has one tattoo that is described in any detail), description of a past abusive relationship and a bad experience getting tattooed, insecurity, anxiety, loneliness, implied undefined past trauma with men, Joel gets to have both his daughters in this, you can decide if this is game joel or show joel

The Art of Healing - Marcus Pike - @northernbluess

Summary: Marcus Pike was feeling lost—unfulfilled and unmoored. After a failed marriage, heartbreak courtesy of his ex-fiancée and relocating to D.C., Marcus knew that he needed more than the FBI. Seven years later, Marcus has traded in Special Agent for Doctor and is now a clinical psychologist specialising in art therapy. He combines his two loves of art and psychology, spurred on by his experience in art crimes, FBI psych courses and his own time in therapy. Josephine is referred to Dr Pike, having just been discharged from treatment for an eating disorder. While Dr Pike is fresh to his new career, he is knowledgeable, warm, kind and attentive. Over time, as she bares her soul to him, he falls for her and the bond between them ties both their heads in knots. As her therapist he knows it’s wrong but he begins to feel incapable of separating his feelings from his work. Before long neither can truly live without the other — if only she knew that. Warnings: (warnings will be specified in each individual chapter, however, please read these carefully) Art Therapist!Marcus Pike, eating disorder, therapy, mentions of disordered eating patterns, hurt/comfort, slow burn, lots of pining and tension, angst, age gap, strained familial relationships, so much softness and feelings, eventual smut (ed. note: no smut as of chapter 5 and worth the read up to that point)

The Man That I Love - Joel - @lumoverheaven

Summary: None (ed. note: Joel is an idiot who doesn't know what he has until he almost loses it). Warnings: None (ed. note: angst)

Not Strong Enough - Joel - @beskarandblasters

Summary: Fem!Reader and Joel are in an established relationship, having met shortly after the events in Kansas City. They’re living in Jackson, Wyoming together, post Salt Lake City with Ellie. Things are going well until an incident happens during patrol and Joel questions whether or not he’s good enough. Written in third person. Warnings: angst, feeling inadequate, canon types of violence, swearing, bar fight, Joel is an asshole :/

Halloween - Joel - beskarandblasters

Summary: You’re in a relationship with Joel and living with him and Ellie in Jackson, Wyoming. You met after their stop in Kansas City and started your relationship with Joel soon after. You stayed behind in Jackson when they left to find the Fireflies. When they came back from the events of Salt Lake City you noticed a change in Joel but whenever you question him he shuts down. Now it’s Halloween in Jackson and Joel has some confessions to make. Warnings: angst with a side of angst (I mean it’s Halloween what did you expect), Joel lying, swearing, drinking

Chinese Satellite - Joel - beskarandblasters

Summary: A look into your life after Joel dies and how you're coping Warnings: takes place after Joel goes golfing in the second game, nothing but pure angst, mentions of death, struggling with the ideas of religion, the afterlife, aliens and ghosts (I mean it's Chinese Satellite what did you expect), drinking, struggling with loss and grief, overexercising

Savior Complex - Joel - beskarandblasters

Summary: A few years after the events of Salt Lake City Joel finds the guilt of lying to Ellie eating him alive. The reader is torn between wanting to tell Ellie the truth but also making sure she gets to be a normal teenager. The reader finds herself struggling to keep the three of them afloat. Can be read as a standalone or a continuation of Halloween. Warnings: can be read as a gender neutral reader, angst with a side of angst, both Joel and reader suffer from savior complex lol, drinking, mentions of eating

Do You Love Me - Dieter - me

Summary: here is a fluffy (by my standards) little drabble in the A Ghost of You universe. Can be read standalone Warnings: There's just some kissing and no mentions of anything bad because I'd never do anything bad to D, would I?

Thunder Buddies - Joel - me

Summary: Joel comforting reader who is scared of thunderstorms Warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, Joel being adorable, cuddling, cuteness, a distinct lack of angst or smut - which is really weird coming from me.

Wash Day - Marcus P - @secretelephanttattoo

Summary: Some completely self-indulgent romantic fluff about Marcus Pike washing your hair. Warnings: none

Personal Best - Marcus P - secretelephanttattoo

Summary: This picture of Pedro holding a dog inspired me to write a fluffy meet-cute for Marcus Pike & Reader. I'm feeling 90s romantic comedy vibes, I don't know if I'll write anything more on this but we'll see if people like it. Warnings: none

Context and Perspective - Marcus M - @elvenmother

Summary: The newest member of the Heroics has gone missing and as one of the better-known Villains on the scene, you are blamed. Then your sidekick goes missing. You must go after the Heroic’s leader to try to get them back and clear your name. Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injuries, mentions of blood

A Very Furby Christmas - Joel - @proxima-writes

Summary: it’s christmas eve 1998 and joel miller thinks everything is perfect. well, until his brother admits he didn’t get sarah the one present she wanted - the furby. now, joel has to go out on christmas eve to find the year’s hottest toy that’s been sold out for months. turns out, you’re on the same mission. and you’ve both found the last furby in town. Warnings: pre-outbreak, no use of y/n, holiday/christmas fic, the last toy trope, no smut, age gap - not explicitly specified but joel is 31 and reader is mid-20s, the great miller gingerbread construction competition, operation get sarah miller a furby, some kissing.

The Haunting of Dieter Bravo - Dieter - @idolatrybarbie Summary: "ghosts aren't real, except when they are." Warnings: referenced substance abuse, mentions of alcohol, dieter is sober, one song-based joke (please get it plsplspls), reader is gender neutral, a good ol' haunting tale.

The Locksmith - The Thief - oonajaeadira

Summary: A Thief you’ve known for years and have conflicting feelings for brings you a gift. The gift is a not only a puzzle in itself, but part of a larger mystery, one only you can crack. Warnings: reader is an adult, reader is AFAB, no physical descriptions of reader

A Piece of Cake - Frankie - idolatrybarbie

Summary: It's been a long time since you've seen Frankie Morales. Warnings: Angst, discussion of addiction, mentions of cocaine, alcohol consumption, bowling

The Parents That Are Left - Joel - @frenchiereading

Summary: There weren't many patrol partners Joel Miller tolerated: his brother and Iris. On a cold January day, Joel pays her mother a visit and finds out you can bond over anything. Unfortunately. Warnings: canon-typical violence and language, heavy angst, talks/mentions/descriptions of death and dead bodies, heavy discussions/thoughts of feelings/grief/guilt, suicidal thoughts, alcohol consumption, Jackson-era Joel, no reader, no y/n, OFC, not a single ounce of romance

For the Love of Horror - Dieter - @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist

Summary: Dieter and you watch a scary movie. Warnings: No use of y/n, horror movies, euphemisms, fluff, suggestive language

Stages of Grief - Joel - @bonezone44

Summary: After a tense interaction with a family member who raised you when you were little, you spiral. Joel talks you through it. Warnings: Gender neutral reader, familial trauma, angst, grief, neglect, trauma, childhood emotional/physical abuse

The Riding Lesson - Jack - @bluestar22x

Summary: When you are hired at a ranch as a trail guide, the owner asks the foreman to teach you how to ride Western style. Warnings: Suggestive thoughts, sexual tension, equestrian terms

Frankie and Din - Frankie/Din - @avastrasposts

Summary: a one-shot with our favourite pilot, sweet Frankie and our favourite space boy, broody Din based on the line; "Go on then, space boy, fly this.” Warnings: none

Light Only Shows You Where the Shadow Are - Max Phillips - oonajaeadira

Summary: The only thing that can get rid of a minor jerk is a major jerk. Warnings: Non-consensual attention (not Max), stalker behavior (when there’s trouble, Max always seems to be watching from nearby), vampire violence.

It's always been you - Dieter - @alwaysmicado

Summary: After a year of dating Dieter Bravo, you are forced to face reality. All good things must come to an end, right? Warnings: angst, age gap (unspecified), swearing, brief mention of p in v sex, brief mention of disordered eating and suicide, mention of black eye, toxic relationship, drug use, reader's coping mechanisms are unhealthy

John Wayne - Joel - @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Summary: twenty years after the world ended, you find yourself face to face with Tommy Miller. The brother of the man who was your boyfriend at the time of the outbreak. Warnings: talk of attempted suicide, child loss, grief, angst

illicit affairs - Joel @chaotic-mystery

Summary: it’s my take on what illicit affairs means. Every time I listened to it I imagined Joel, specifically dbf Joel. I hope the swifties go *easy* on me and pls don’t say anything if you didn’t like it. Warnings: angst. And more angst. Swearing, forbidden relationship, arguing, fwb, alluded age gap but not specified. Use of nicknames (kid, baby……don’t look at me ok I didn’t do IT), reader is not physically described, no use of y/n.

Stay Close to Me - Jack - @alwaysbethewest

Summary: You're a rookie agent sent to work undercover with Jack as a married couple!Fake/undercover marriage! Statesman casefic! Warnings: A little romance, kissing, coarse language, very mild peril and hurt/comfort, and a splash of alcohol. Reader is a junior agent and has some muscle but otherwise no physical/age descriptions. As with any good Kingsman fic, my first step was to disregard half of canon, so this is either pre-movie or an AU.

To Know the Light - Din - @burntheedges

Summary: to go in the dark with a light is to know the light. Warnings: fluff, a teensy bit of angst, introspection, winter, food mention, reader has no description, gn!reader

O, Christmas Tree - Dieter - @covetyou

Summary: As PA to Dieter Bravo, you were used to the strange, unusual and downright weird. What you weren't used to was taking in a shipment of - what? And how many? Warnings: sex toys (so many butt plugs), Dieter being a menace to his PA, no smut, pure silliness.

In Fiction - Dieter - @sin-djarin

Summary: Dieter comes to bed. Warnings: Established relationship, mentions of self doubt, no physical description of reader, no dialogue, no use of y/n.

The Serpent Under It - Dave York - @brandyllyn

Summary: Dave is very good at his job Warnings: Canon typical violence. kinda dark yo, soulmate AU

I'll Leave a Light On For You - Max Phillips - oonajaeadira

Summary: Max has reservations when it comes to love, and for very good reasons. Warnings: Angst. Character death. Allusions to the atrocities of war and its lasting effects. Max is a vampire. Traumatic soul memory. Me assuming I know anything about French culture of the 1930s.

Cocoon - Joel - secretelephanttattoo

Summary: A short ode to Joel's coat. / a bath with Joel Warnings: Angst and intimacy. 1 reference to blood and allusion to canon typical violence (nothing is described)

Home - Frankie - @dancingtotuyo

Summary: Frankie always comes home to you. Warnings: fluff, angst, girl dad!frankie, recovering!Frankie, references to drug use, references to violence, trauma, healing.

Negotiations - Max Phillips - prolix-yuy

Summary: Max Phillips never found marketing to be all that helpful. Hell, running an ad on Facebook was easy enough. But then you walked in the door and he knew he had to have you, in all the ways he could. Warnings: T, descriptions of male and female bodies, some fantasizing and suggestive themes.

sweets for my sweet; sweets from my sweet - Ezra - @tinytinymenace

Summary: you are a cook at an exploration camp and one of the miners asks you about Earth and brings you a treat Warnings: Brief mentions of planet death (RIP Earth) and strained family dynamics but on balance this is soft.

Caught Kissing Santa - Dave York - @wildemaven

Summary: Alice saw you kissing Santa Claus Warnings: reader is married to Dave and stepmom to his kids, mentions of food and drinks, non-religious Christmas celebrations and Santa beliefs, alluding to sexy time but no smut, kissing, mentions reader is wearing pajama pants, fluff, soft Dave, one use of ‘good girl’.

Unwind - Dieter - @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Summary: Dieter helps you unwind when you get your period after an already long day. Warnings: established relationship, reader menstruates, drug use (marijuana), reference to past drug use, reference to bad horror movies, Dieter being our favorite trash panda, sweet, fluff, domesticity

One Night - Marcus P - secretelephantattoo

Summary: You get one night with Marcus Pike. Warnings: Implied/referenced smut but nothing is explicitly described. Smoking and alcohol. Angst because they only have one night together. Marcus is a flirty menace. House party nostalgia. Heavy petting in a stairwell

Lovesick - Joel - prolix-yuy

Summary: You've been greedy for Joel for too long. Warnings: descriptions of wound care and blood, allusions to dubcon due to drinking and drug use, no actual smut

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

Happy Reading!

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #The spreadsheet Digest Outtakes

120 notes · View notes