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#pedro pascal requests
joekeeryswife · 1 year
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pedro pascal is so daddy like… i genuinely dont know why this man doesnt have kids yet but I VOLUNTEER 🙋‍♀️
anywayss, i cant help but think about the domesticity of being married and expecting with pedro like we all know that man is old and is already daddy status but just imagining him coming home to you and your swollen belly after a day running around the city… to kiss on you and hold you like!!! you cant tell me that wouldn’t be the cutest shit ever
then you got the early mornings and late nights of him and you talking, watching movies together, laying on the couch in your spacious new york apartment, looking over on the city!!! and i just know no matter what, that man would just adore you. would always want to have you around, inviting you to come out with him while he’s working, always wanting to take you on dates, and events. i mean just utterly infatuated with you (especially if youre having his baby!?! like that man wouldnt know what to do with himself)
he would just take the best care of you… when he wakes up making sure your vitamins are all set up for you to take (so cant say you forgot!) and maybe writing little love notes incase you arent awake to bid him away for the few hours he’ll be gone. and he’d shoot you just random texts and pictures whether that be on set, in a meeting, driving/walking around, anything to let you know that youre on his mind… and when he comes home, oh lord. i wholeheartedly believe, after an extremely long day, he’d always come home with a little treat for you…
you’d be in the kitchen, getting dinner ready for the night, anticipating his arrival, as you hear the door open, and a loud and cheesy, “honey, im home!” to which he walks into your shared kitchen with a small little bag, holding a pastry he picked up for you on his way home just because he knows how much you love that bakery. you’d welcome him into your warm embrace and as you continue cooking for the two of you, nothing would make more sense than for him to rub that belly of yours…whispering all the praise you’d been aching to hear. telling you how beautiful you look, how strong you are, how grateful he is to have you, to hold you… and then ofcourse you’d enjoy the dinner you had made for the two of you. ending the night with the pastry pedro had picked up for you and a glass of wine for him…
ahhh! i totally rambled so much but i love pedro like UGH
Baby- p.p
hello loves! when i tell you i screamed when i saw this i’m not even lying. i tried my best with this one and if i’m being honest i don’t think i like it at all😭! first pedro pascal imagine (btw dad! imagines are my fave to write) dms are always open if you wanna chat loves! i’m like nervous to post this idk why. anyways enjoy 🤍 ⚠️age gap couple!⚠️
taglist (add yourselves loves🤍)(if there is a line through your name i cannot tag you for some reason x) @1-john-4-19
"baby, im home" you heard Pedro voice echo through your New York apartment. you had moved in with Pedro two years ago after a year of dating and now you were pregnant with your first child together. you were in the kitchen making a sandwich which you had been craving for the past thirty minutes but you were too tired to even get up off the sofa to make it.
you were 7 months pregnant and even walking made you out of breath, it was like the baby was purposely kicking your rib cage just to make you more uncomfortable than you already were. you heard his footsteps walking toward the kitchen and smiled at him when he finally appeared.
he had been out in New York with Bella, doing random interviews which obviously didn't take long so they also went for lunch then here he was back home with you. he walked up to you and opened his arms wide for you to hug him. his left hand fell so he could gently place it on your stomach hoping that the baby would kick for him, which it almost always did.
a huge smile formed on his face when he held the strong kicks coming from the baby. he placed little kisses on your head as you cuddled yourself more into him. "how was your day sweetheart?" you snuggled into him further and sighed in contentment. "boring, couldn't move for ages because i was so tired. i was gonna start packing the hospital bag and do laundry but i couldn't get off the sofa"
"don't worry about the laundry baby, i'll do it later" he kissed your forehead again and tried to hold you as close as possible. "wanna go watch tv? i'll even let you pick" he said making you smile up at him. with a small nod of your head he lent in to kiss you for the first time that day he let go of you. you picked up the sandwich which had been forgotten on the kitchen counter and waddled your way back to the sofa.
after a few minutes of you scrolling through the different channels you felt the sofa dip beside you and Pedro's arm go around your shoulders pulling you carefully into his side. you felt his hand stroking your arms softly as you finally picked "Bridgerton" and finally let yourself relax in Pedro's hold, feeling the small pecks on your head throughout the show.
-
"what do you think the baby is?" you asked as the comforting silence between the two of you filled the bedroom, the only thing that could be heard was the tv which you both weren't paying attention too. you had decided to keep the gender a secret until he/she was born and now you were growing closer and closer to them being here the nerves were growing and so was your curiosity.
Pedro looked down at you and smiled softly, he had thought about the baby every day and what it was going to look like, what the gender was, what it's first word would be, all the normal things a parent thought about. "i don't know but i hope it's a girl and i hope she looks exactly like you because you're beautiful" you smiled brightly and felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment.
"what if it's a boy?" you questioned, feeling Pedro's hand on your bump and the strong kicks coming from your baby who was still wide awake at this late hour for some reason. "then it's a boy, i'm still gonna love them whatever they are. but i do really hope that it's a girl. she'd be so cute. also all the names we have picked out are for girls so" you laughed, it was true, every single name you had were all girl names.
comfortable silence filled the room again and Pedro let his eyes fall onto the bed covers where your bump was. he just couldn't believe his baby was in there, growing beautifully. it was just the most perfect thing. "you are the most beautiful person i've ever seen." you looked up at him and saw him staring right at you, his eyes filled with adoration. your heart swelled as you listened to him.
"stop it" you said, turning your head so you could hide your blush which covered your cheeks. "i'm not kidding, you are so perfect. i love you" he said moving his head so he could place a few kisses on your cheek making you giggle as his beard tickled you. "can you come out with me tomorrow? want you to be at work with me. don't want you to be stuck in here all day by yourself" he let his head rest in your neck with his body just off to the side with his hand resting on your bump, again.
"i'll see how i am, they might keep me up all night and you know how i am when i'm tired" you kissed his head and felt kisses being placed on your neck. before you got pregnant you and tired just didn't mix well and it got even worse ever since you did get pregnant. you didn't mean to be mean but if you were tired you'd become snappy and annoyed very easily.
"god don't remind me" Pedro joked remembering how you snapped at him yesterday because he was just there, he didn't do anything wrong you were just tired and annoyed because the baby didn't let you sleep. "even though you snap at me i still love you so much. my favourite girl" he said, pulling his head out of your neck so he could kiss you. "yeah okay, i love you too" you said smiling at him.
-
Pedro got up before you every single morning just so he knew you'd have your vitamins ready for when you did wake up. it was rare for him to be there when you woke up unless it was a quiet day and he didn't have to work until the afternoon which was when you'd usually go to work with him. it put his mind at ease when he knew you had all your parental vitamins next to you so you wouldn't forget to take them.
he would leave little love notes next to them just letting you know he loved you and that he was proud of you, even if you didn't do anything but sit around all day he was still proud, you were carrying a whole child inside of you and you were coping so well. if it took the stress of you remembering every morning and it made your life a little bit easier he would do it.
as well as love notes he'd send you messages throughout the day just checking in to see if you were alright and if you needed anything. he always made sure he wasn't too far away from the apartment just incase something did happen. today in particular you were in a lot of pain, your back was killing you and so was your legs, just walking around was hurting you.
you had decided to start packing the baby bag just in case something happened you'd be prepared. the baby was kicking constantly and you'd gotten hardly any sleep that night because of the kicking and you just wanted them to be here so you could have a somewhat decent sleep. Pedro always woke up if you shook him, he was the one who could sort of calm the baby down with his talking but sometimes nothing worked.
he would always help you get comfortable before he would rest his head just above your bump so he could whisper to the baby. "need to stop giving your mama a hard time, she needs sleep baby" he would leave little kisses on your bump which made his heart swell with love just because he knew his baby was in there 'responding' to him. "we love you angel but give your mama a break"
it wasn't very often he had to do that but the nights you'd be overly tired from the baby kicking you he would do anything to make you as comfortable as possible. carrying the baby was hard, it felt like you were lugging around a watermelon and it was sometimes so painful you couldn’t even get up to brush your hair. Pedro saw how difficult it was for you when he was home and when he wasn’t there he’d always send you texts saying ‘he was so proud of you’ and that ‘you were doing so well’, the messages, somehow, always made you feel better.
-
it was late and Pedro was on his way home from filming. you were making dinner for the two of you and you were waiting for him to finally come home after a long day doing interviews. you had been craving your favourite pastry from the bakery which wasn’t too far away from your apartment all day. you had tried to get yourself ready but your feet were killing you and so was your back so getting there didn’t happen.
"y/n? i'm home love" you heard Pedro shout and then the door closing behind him. you turned to face the kitchen door and your heart melted once you saw the small bag with the bakery's logo on it. "i got this for you on the way home. i got there just in time, they were about to close" he said as he walked to you.
once he got to you, you wrapped your arms around his waist and placed a small kiss on his chest "how did you know i was craving something from there" you smiled, feeling his arms around you tighten slightly. "i guess i'm a psychic. i had a feeling" he kissed your forehead and rubbed your back before you pulled away, almost forgetting that you were cooking.
"how was today?" you said, your back facing Pedro as you focused on the food. "it was alright, wanted to be here with you though" he replied wrapping his arms around you from behind, making you smile and lean your head back against his shoulder.
"you look so beautiful, so so pretty" he whispered, kissing your cheek which was now a bright red shade. his hand was on your belly, rubbing it gently as your baby kicked. "you're so strong, carrying our baby. you're doing so well sweetheart. so perfect. i'm so lucky to have you" anytime Pedro saw you his heart swelled with love, you were carrying his baby and you looked so beautiful doing so. he couldn't wait for these last two months to pass because it meant he could finally meet your beautiful baby and he was so excited.
"you look so beautiful, so so pretty" he whispered, kissing your cheek which was now a bright red shade. his hand was on your belly, rubbing it gently as your baby kicked. "you're so strong, carrying our baby. you're doing so well sweetheart. so perfect. i'm so lucky to have you" anytime Pedro saw you his heart swelled with love, you were carrying his baby and you looked so beautiful doing so. he couldn't wait for these last two months to pass because it meant he could finally meet your beautiful baby and he was so excited.
"you look so beautiful, so so pretty" he whispered, kissing your cheek which was now a bright red shade. his hand was on your belly, rubbing it gently as your baby kicked. "you're so strong, carrying our baby. you're doing so well sweetheart. so perfect. i'm so lucky to have you" anytime Pedro saw you his heart swelled with love, you were carrying his baby and you looked so beautiful doing so. he couldn't wait for these last two months to pass because it meant he could finally meet your beautiful baby and he was so excited.
“y/n? i’m home love” you heard Pedro shout and then the door closing behind him. you turned to face the kitchen door and your heart melted once you saw the small bag with the bakery’s logo on it. “i got this for you on the way home. i got there just in time, they were about to close” he said as he walked to you.
once he got to you, you wrapped your arms around his waist and placed a small kiss on his chest “how did you know i was craving something from there” you smiled, feeling his arms around you tighten slightly. “i guess i’m a psychic. i had a feeling” he kissed your forehead and rubbed your back before you pulled away, almost forgetting that you were cooking.
“how was today?” you said, your back facing Pedro as you focused on the food. “it was alright, wanted to be here with you though” he replied wrapping his arms around you from behind, making you smile and lean your head back against his shoulder.
“you look so beautiful, so so pretty” he whispered, kissing your cheek which was now a bright red shade. his hand was on your belly, rubbing it gently as your baby kicked. “you’re so strong, carrying our baby. you’re doing so well sweetheart. so perfect. i’m so lucky to have you” anytime Pedro saw you his heart swelled with love, you were carrying his baby and you looked so beautiful doing so. he couldn’t wait for these last two months to pass because it meant he could finally meet your beautiful baby and he was so excited.
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creedslove · 1 year
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Hey, can I have a story like this: The reader's dog, whose name is Mando or Grogu, runs away (maybe during a thunderstorm). Fortunately, the dog has a collar with an address and phone number. Pedro is the one who finds the dog and phone calls to the reader. And they meet when he returns dog to her. Of course the reader is grateful so he invites Pedro to dinner and he agrees!
Pedro Pascal x f!reader
Warnings: none, just fluff
A/N: this is short and sweet and also kinda silly. I wasn't going to write anything as I'm sick but I figured I would feel better if I spread some Pedro love 💕
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You checked your phone each passing second in hopes to see if someone had any news of your puppy. Your sweet little Mando had been missing for more than twelve hours and your heart was shattered. 
Ever since that stupid thunderstorm the night before, your lovely stray pup had run away in fear as the loud thunder noises were too much for his small sensitive ears and when he found just the tiniest gap in the fence after you forgot the door half open, he was gone. 
Luckily to you, Mando had a collar with all the information someone with good intentions could contact you but you were truly worried about someone who didn't have good intentions… you tried avoiding these thoughts but at the same time they kept intruding. Your dog was so cute, you worried someone would also think your dog was cute to the point of keeping it to themselves.
It was mid afternoon when your phone finally rang and you answered in a heartbeat. 
The relief you felt washed over you like a crashing wave when the male voice announced he'd found your puppy. He suggested a bakery some blocks away from your place and you arrived there in less than fifteen minutes. 
You looked all over for your puppy and the moment you heard his small barks you rushed to him, thankful to know your puppy was alright. 
"Mando!!!!" You squealed and saw when he jumped off the man's lap and ran to you, sniffing you all over and scratching your legs softly wanting all the petting in the world. 
You picked him up and giggled, scratching under his ears and chin seeing how he wiggled his tail. You checked on him to make sure Mando was alright and finally took a look at the man who had your dog. Your smile died as you noticed who he was. 
Pedro had a soft smile on his face and took off his sunglasses.
"So… Mando?" He asked finding it amusing how your cheeks took a crimson shade. 
"I-I…" you stuttered feeling so embarrassed and shy at his presence, he was taller than you imagined and he looked stronger too.
And holy shit he was way more handsome in real life than in the picture as if that was even possible. 
"I'm sorry, hi… my name's Y/N and you're Pedro… yeah, my puppy's name is Mando, and I obviously like your work, but I swear to God I don't call you daddy on the internet or keep making glittery edits of your pictures'' you blurted out all at once making him laugh. 
"It's alright, Y/N… I think Mando is adorable and well, he was very hungry and scared when he showed up in my backyard this morning, so I gave him plenty of water and ran by the store to get him some dog food, I hope it's alright" he said gently and touched your hand, seeing you were nervous at his presence. 
You nodded and smiled "sorry Pedro, I know I'm acting weird, I was just not expecting to see you…meet you" you blushed "but it was very nice of you to take care of Mando and return him to me… do you think we could maybe have some coffee or a slice of cake?" You pointed at the bakery entrance and smiled big as he nodded. 
"Sure, let's go, Y/N" he placed his hand on the small of your back and walked you inside. 
You felt so lucky to have found Mando and Pedro in only one afternoon.
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_____
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Keep them Pedro Pascal Daddy requests coming 😂❤️ platonic stuff only for now
Gonna write some more once I’m off work tonight.
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talaok · 2 months
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Imagine no outbreak Joel seeing you doing a million steps nightly skin care routine and just laying under the covers and waiting for you to be done and come to bed already and slowly getting frustrated
Maybe a little toddler cuddling in bed with him and Joel fake complaining to them about you
“Mommy is taking a long time huh?”
Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
a/n: this request is so so so cute, anon you're a genius
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he was being a drama queen, 
as always.
You'd been in the bathroom a total of five minutes and already he was groaning and calling out to you as if you'd been in there an hour.
"I've just finished washing my face baby, I'm not even half way done" you laughed, patting your skin with a towel 
Another groan sounded from the bedroom and you just smiled, as you reached for the fist of the many products that were gonna go on your face.
This was part of your routine now.
Him moaning and complaining because you were taking too long and wanting nothing more than to just have you there in bed with him into his arms, while you laughed in front of the mirror at how much of an unpatient man you had married.
"I don't even understand why you do that stuff" he sighed, loud enough for you to hear, turning again in frustration under the blanket "You're already gorgeous, darlin'"
You rolled your eyes, your mouth betraying you with a smile
The amount of times you'd heard him say that...
Doing your skincare, makeup, putting on lotion... all tasks that to him did nothing but lessen the amount of time you could be in his arms.
"nice try miller" you chuckled, peering out of the bathroom door to talk to him "but flattery ain't gonna work"
Just as his eyes narrowed, a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue, a little goblin jumped on the bed, having sneaked in without either of you hearing.
Said Goblin, being Emma, your beautiful, smart, nosy daughter.
"daddy!" she giggled, jumping literally on top of him, earning a painful groan from Joel, before he smiled, feigning an attack on her by wrapping his arms around her and bringing her down to him.
"whatcha doing here peach?"
"'m not tired" she explained, hiding her face in his neck
"aw babygirl, you can stay with us for a while, but you have to sleep in your own bed ok?" he murmured, stroking her hair "You're a big girl now"
"mh-mh" she nodded
Your heart warmed as you watched the scene before you, but before you lost precious moments where Joel was too preoccupied with your daughter to realize you still hadn't finished, you went back to your skincare.
But of course, it was all in vain.
Not even a minute passed that you heard him murmur "Mommy's taking a long time huh?" to Emma, who gasped as she answered
"where is she?"
"she's in the bathroom, putting all sorts of stuff on her face"
"what stuff?" She frowned, confused
"stuff she doesn't need" he explained 
You huffed a laugh as you popped your head out of the bathroom, still massaging some serum onto your cheeks "I'm almost done I swear"
"mommy!" Emma smiled wide as she saw you
"Hi pumpkin" You blew her a kiss in return
You watched as Joel murmured something in her ear, something you could very well hear
"tell mommy she doesn't need all that stuff, that she's already beautiful"
Emma didn't waste a second before complying
"You're pretty, mommy!"
You rolled your eyes at him, although the smile on your lips didn't fade one bit
"thank you baby" you stifled a chuckle "but you should explain to daddy that the reason I am so beautiful as he keeps saying, is because of this stuff"
"daddy!" Emma scolded him, turning back to him "You didn't tell me that! You should listen to mommy, she's smart"
He couldn't help but laugh at that, 
God if she wasn't right
"You're right" he grinned "she is smart, and I should listen to her" he said "But you know what would be better? If while she was explaining all that smart stuff she's always saying, she was right here beside us, so we could cuddle with her, wouldn't it?"
Emma considered what he said for a moment before agreeing
"yes" she nodded "it would"
You sighed, exasperatedly, as you finally exited the bathroom, shutting the door behind you
"there, I'm done" you said, climbing into bed "happy now?"
They almost answered in unison, but while Emma yelled her "yes!" as she jumped between you two, Joel's "yes" was much calmer... only a hell of a lot more smug.
He brought you closer with his strong arms, sandwiching your daughter between you and him in a tight hug.
"You're the least patient person I've ever met Miller" you murmured, turning to him with a glare
"And you, sweetheart, are the most perfect one I've ever met."
You rolled your eyes, your mouth once again betraying you
"I better be" you bit down a smirk, watching him grin
"I love you" he murmured, ghosting your lips 
"I love you too assh-" your eyes lowered to where your daughter held onto you, forcing you to censure yourself "I love you too" you said, before he kissed you softly, his hand drawing gentle circles on your waist,
You leaned away when quiet snores sounded through the room, and once you lowered your gaze, you found out why.
"just this time" Joel immediately suggested, giving you his best puppy eyes
"You said that last time too" you reminded him
The pout on him persisted, as he tried harder to convince you
"please?" he begged,
You let out another exasperated sigh, before inevitably, as always, agreeing
"fine" you breathed "but this is the last time"
He kissed you again, and when he let go... you swore your daughter had a smile matching his on her lips.
You would have bet a fortune that this was their plan all along.
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psychedelic-ink · 5 months
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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃
ㅤㅤwoodshop teacher!joel miller x f!reader
genre: smut, minors dni
word count: 2k
summary: there are many advantages to enrolling in a woodshop class: drawing you away from not-so-happy thoughts, relearning something that you enjoyed doing when you were a kid, and, well, the sight of watching mr. miller do something he’s undeniably good at.
warnings: semi-public fingering, dirty talk, reader has a small exhibitionism kink, competency kink
a/n: special thanks to the anon who requested this! I enjoyed writing it thoroughly ❤️‍🔥
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There are many advantages to enrolling in a woodshop class: drawing you away from not-so-happy thoughts, relearning something that you enjoyed doing when you were a kid, and, well, the sight of watching Mr. Miller do something he’s undeniably good at.
The sleeves of his flannel were rolled neatly up to the elbow, exposing his forearms, strong and dusted lightly with sawdust from earlier. You watch intently as Mr. Miller takes the carving tool in his hands, demonstrating how to use it to the class. You’re out of breath. Completely entranced by the way his muscles flex and ripple in his forearms - beautifully defined beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel shirt. Unlike the other students who take in the information in a more appropriate way, all you can focus on is the gathering wetness between your legs. 
So much so that you don’t even realize that Mr Miller had instructed the class to start carving. You’re dumbfounded when you suddenly find the man staring right in front of your working bench, staring down at you with an amused gaze. 
“Sometin’ wrong with your tools?” 
Heat rushes to your cheeks. God. You’re an idiot. You open and close your mouth, he’s so close—close enough that you can breathe in his scent which you identify as pine. 
“No—No. Just. . .” 
He leans over the bench, his hands landing on the edge, fingers spreading over the smooth surface. Your eyes drop almost by instinct. You see the faint scars littered across his skin. 
“Distracted?” he finishes your sentence for you. You meet his gaze, heart beating in your throat, you expect to see an expression showing you that you’ve been caught doing something bad but much to your surprise, you see the lingering traces of worry. “We should talk ‘bout it after class. Sound good?” 
Does he really not see the state you’re in? That you’re practically soaked to your core—ready to say yes to anything that comes out of his plush lips. Is he that oblivious to his charm?
“Yeah,” you mutter, grabbing one of the carving tools sprawled out. You wrap your fingers around the material, squeezing it, your thumb faintly caresses the contour. His eyes flicker at the subtle movement. “Sounds good.” 
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“You gonna tell me what’s going on or are we goin’ to continue to have a stare-down until my next class?” 
He’s smiling, however, it does little to calm your raging nerves. It’s been almost ten minutes since class had ended. A class that truly tested the limits of your patience. You barely managed to carve a line, your eyes were fixed on him, his hands, his arms. . . Your mind showed you one image after another, forcing you to think of the answer to questions like: how big is his cock? How fast could he make you come with just his fingers? 
Fuck, the thought alone is enough to make you weak in the knees. 
“Sorry,” you blurt out, coming closer to the desk. “Today will be the last time, promise.” 
He hums as he leans back into the chair, his legs parting. You feel another fresh wave of arousal coursing through you. “Do you know how long you’ve been taking my workshop?” 
“Uh. . . three weeks?” 
“Good,” he nods. “And can you tell me how many times I caught you just starin’ instead of doin’?” 
“A. . . reasonable amount?” 
He cocks an eyebrow, “Not a reasonable amount.” When you remain silent, simmering in your own embarrassment, he continues. “It looks like I ain’t the right teacher for you. And I care whether people learn a thing or two in my class so I wrote you down a number.” 
He rolls back a bit, opening the drawer, he picks up a card. You’re completely in shock as he stands, handing you the aforementioned card. When you look at it you see the name Tommy Miller written on it along with a phone number. 
“That’s my brother,” he explains. “He has a different approach than I do. Younger too, which may benefit you.” 
“I. . . what? Are—Are you kicking me out of your class?” 
You can’t help the quiver that accompanies your question. You’re an idiot. A huge idiot. You made him think that he’s no good in teaching which couldn’t be further from the truth. Still in shock, you stare down at the card and back up to him. He seems just as surprised as you are.
“No, no, I ain’t kickin’ you out. I just. . . I thought this would help. I didn’t mean to. . .” 
“It’s your hands—” you finally snap, taking him by surprise. Your brain is screaming at you to shut up but you can’t. Not knowing what else to do, you cover your face with both hands, breathing heavily into your palms. Your wood carving career is over. “You just—shit—you just look so good doing what you do and it’s been so long since—well, it’s just really distracting,” you feel the card with his brother’s number slip through your fingers, he’s not saying anything. Fuck. “That’s why I was. . . distracted. It has nothing to do with you or your teaching style. You’re great.” 
You should let yourself out now. You really should. 
“You think I look good?” The quip catches you off guard and you dare to lower your hands. He’s smiling again, beaming actually, he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. You blink. 
“You really didn’t know?” 
“Nope,” he looks down sheepishly. “I ain’t good at readin’ signs and it’s been long for me too.” 
He takes a step closer, pushing you back until the edge of the desk is biting into your flesh. Your breath stutters. He cages you in, muscular arms on both sides of your hips. He tilts his head and kisses your cheek. You close your eyes at the brush of his lips. His hands toy with the zipper of your jeans. “Tell me what you were thinkin’ durin’ class and maybe I’ll give you a gold star.” 
“Oh fuck,” you breathe out, rolling your hips forward. He grins against your skin. “I. . .I thought about your hands and how they would feel like. I also thought about—” 
You cut yourself off. He prompts you to continue by lowering the zipper. “You also thought about what?” he murmurs. “Don’t be a bad girl now. I know you wanna be good for me.” 
You do. You really fucking do. 
“I thought about how big your cock might be,” you gasp. “I thought about how good it would feel to have you inside me.” 
Mr Miller takes your hand and brings it to the rather impressive bulge between his legs. Your body warms as you cup him gingerly. Despite the soft touch, his eyes still roll back. “Why don’t you tell me how big I am?” he murmurs, thrusting into your palm. Fuck, he feels huge underneath the denim. 
“Really big,” you answer, stroking him. “You’re huge Mr Miller—” 
“Joel,” he groans. “Call me Joel.” 
“Joel,” you moan. “Joel. Are you going to fuck me with this big cock of yours?” 
He chuckles, “Sadly no. We can’t now but. . .” You shudder at the feeling of his teeth nipping at your chin. He pushes back your hand and swiftly tugs down your pants. “I’ll give you my fingers, sweetheart. Want to feel you creamin’ around them.” 
You tremble at his touch. Two thick fingers moving between your dripping lips, spreading them, teasing your entrance. Your breath hitches as he swirls the pads of his fingers around your clit. You melt against him, forehead falling to the front of his shoulder as he circles, circles and circles them. Your slick coats his fingers, trickles down his wrist. Those skillful hands now a mess. 
“You weren’t kiddin’,” he says into your hair. “You’re fuckin’ soaked for me.” 
“For you,” you agree, grinding your hips. “Give them to me. Please please please—” 
“Shhhhhh keep quiet or I’m gonna have to spank ya—” A wanton moan rips from your throat and you pulse, a gush of liquid drenching you both. The sounds that come out of you are obscene. “You like that huh?” 
You nod desperately. His chest trembles as he lets out a low chuckle. “So honest. ‘Guess you deserve a reward.” 
His fingers slide into you with ease, two of them sliding in and out, the heel of his palm pressing into your clit every time he plunges them deep inside. “Fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth, scissoring his fingers. “How are you this worked up? How the fuck are you so wet? Shit sweetheart—” 
You know. You know how wet you are. He thrusts his fingers knuckle deep, curling them, liquid heat drips down your spine, every muscle tensing with the promise of release. The sounds of him fucking you fills the workshop. The door is unlocked, you know this, there was no reason for either of you to think of locking it before. The thought of people seeing, someone watching—
Your head falls back as a whimper slips from your lips, his eyes find your own, dark with arousal. His thumb rubs at your clit. “Tell me,” he orders. 
“You have class soon,” you oblige, the thought making you clench. His brows furrow. 
“Yeah?” 
“People might see,” you add, just a hint of a teasing lilt in your voice. Your tone goes completely over Joel’s head, the tease prompting his fingers to still. Your groan in frustration, hips desperately jerking for the friction to continue.  
“You wanna stop?” 
“No, Joel. I. . .” Oh god, you can’t word it out. It’s making you flustered. “It’s kinda hot. . . that people might see.” 
“Oh,” he blinks then a second later his lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Oh.” 
And when he understands where you’re coming from—all hell breaks loose. 
Joel pushes you up the desk, nestling himself between your legs, your muscles left trembling at the stretch. He slips in another finger, fucking you thoroughly with three of them. Your jaw goes slack, your body burning from the inside out. You try to bite back the sounds but it’s hard when you’re left so exposed. It feels good—it feel amazing. You’re stammering over your words, somewhere between wanting to beg him and wanting to tell him how mind-numbingly beautiful this feels. His fingers stroke your deepest parts, applying pressure on just the right spot. 
“If you can’t handle this there’s no way you can take my cock, honey.” Your breasts feel heavy and full, nipple going hard at the gravel in his voice. You want to touch him so bad, have his cock in your mouth, worship him with your entire body. “Come on, sweetheart, let me feel how good your pussy feels when you come. Fuckin’ make a mess of the desk. I’ll just fuckin’ make a new one and you can soak that one too—” 
You’re chanting his name with hushed whispers, over and over. A familiar heat and tingle settles in your stomach, your cunt fluttering around his fingers, it doesn’t take you long after that. He keeps moaning about how good you’re feeling, about how he’ll be thinking about your perfect wet pussy when the next class starts. It’s all too much. Unbearable. 
“Look at me,” he growls and you barely hear him. He slips his fingers into the knots of your hair and yanks your head back. Your eyelids flutter as you stare directly at him. He bares his teeth. “Fuckin’ come for me.” 
Your jaw drops, all care about keeping silent floating from your head as the most guttural moan rips from your throat. It’s so intense that you can physically feel yourself creaming around him, the slick at base of his finger a shade darker. “Atta girl,” he keeps saying into your mouth, over and over. You’re still coming, your insides left throbbing and raw. 
The two of you stay like that for a while. His fingers still knuckle deep, panting heavily, both your bodies glistening with sweat. His forehead falls against yours and you sigh happily, a smile touching your lips. 
You expect him to kiss you but he doesn’t, it almost feels like he’s holding himself back. Instead, he brushes your lips together, expression almost painful. 
“You got any plans for tonight?” 
You shake your head. 
“Can I take you to dinner?” 
2K notes · View notes
pedroshotwifey · 8 days
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Do you think you could write a nervous Joel fic... like he's older and a single dad and hasn't dated in a REALLY REALLY long time...but he's still really sweet, maybe he has to stop and eat reader cos he's about to cum too soon or something 🤷‍♀️😭
Hey, babe!! So I hope this is what you were hoping for! It's super tender and I did end up listening to Hozier for a good portion of it, so do with that information what you will 😅
Also, I kind of did something a bit different and wrote it more from Joel's perspective, but it's still in 2nd person (pronouns = you)! Pls lmk how you feel about it ❤
Pairing: Older Joel Miller x afab!reader
Tags/warnings: Age gap (not specified), piv sex, oral sex (f), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, established relationship, (almost) premature ejaculation, accidental love confessions 🤭, self deprecating Joel™, big dick Joel™, kissing, stuff I'm probably forgetting
W/C: 1.9k
Summary: Your and Joel's first time together turns into so much more.
What Matters
“Are you sure, baby?” 
Joel watches as your eyes flick up to him, only kindness and patience in them. Even as you smile warmly and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him to you, he still has a sense of cautiousness in his movements. You’ve probably lost track of how many times he’s asked you if you’re sure. 
“Yes, Joel, I’m sure,” you laugh breathily. 
You’re both lying in his bed, half-naked. There’s a soft summer breeze coming in through the window and rustling the sheer curtains. The sun’s going down, but just barely, causing a perfect golden hue to coat the room. He can’t help but think that you look even more gorgeous than usual in this lighting.
Joel tries to ignore the nervousness in his stomach as he softly kisses your jaw and nuzzles up to you. He’s not stupid, he knows that you know he’s just trying to waste time, but you let him. You’re so fucking sweet like that. Always making him feel so wanted and appreciated. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you in this way, but that he’s worried he won’t be perfect for you. He wants to be able to show you affection in the same way that you show him. 
But what if he can’t?
You’re younger, after all, and he’s not been with a woman in so long. Maybe not since Sarah’s mom. If that’s the case, it’s been about fifteen, sixteen years. Point in case, you’re probably used to boys who can last longer and can make you come every time. What if he can’t? What if it’s been so long now, that he only lasts a couple of minutes? 
It terrifies him, the prospect that you may be disappointed in his performance. What if you decide to leave him because he’s not enough to get you off? No, he realizes, you would never do that. You’re so good, so thoughtful and generous and patient. You’d wait for him, help him get back to the point where he used to be. 
But that’s not what he wants. He wants to be good for you now. 
“Joel?” 
His name falling from your lips has his head raising back up. You look into his eyes with a desperation that he simply can’t ignore. 
“Please,” you whisper before planting a feather-light kiss to his lips. He nods slowly before he can think about it. 
“Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 
And he does, he knows it. He just hopes he can do it right. 
You’re already prepped. He spent probably half an hour fingering you to orgasm even though you had begged for the real thing each time you fell apart on his hand. It’s another thing he was worried about—being so big. Joel’s not a super cocky man by any means, but he is aware of his…attributes. 
He watches you carefully as he grasps his cock and guides it to your slippery entrance. Your eyes flutter shut as he pushes in, giving you about an inch each time he thrusts. His jaw goes slack once he’s about halfway in. You’re so fucking warm and wet and inviting. He keeps going, trying to keep his breathy whines at bay. He’s again reminded of just how long it’s been since he’s felt something other than the palm of his hand around himself. 
“Shit, baby,” he breathes as he bottoms out. He closes his eyes in concentration and lets his head hang next to yours. He already feels like he might blow his load at any second. You bring a hand up to cup his head and thread his curls through your fingers, holding him close. His breathing is heavy when he lifts himself back up to look into your eyes. 
His heart seems to skip a beat when he sees the adoration you’re looking at him with. It kills him every time. And no matter how many times you tell him that he deserves all your affection, he knows he’ll still find a lingering doubt in the back of his mind. There’s a reason the two of you have only been “together” for about four months even though you’ve been shamelessly flirting for about a year. 
It was just too good to be true. For such a sweet, gentle thing like you to want a rough old man like him. He was never the one to initiate anything, but he knows you’ve been aware that he had his sore eyes set on you since you met. How could he not? He’s never met anyone so kind and considerate. It was impossible to deny you of him any longer when it was one of the only things you’ve ever wanted for yourself. 
“You okay?” Your honeyed voice reaches his ears—or his good ear, rather—and he smiles at you. 
“‘Course, baby. Jus’ gotta give me a second, alright?” He can feel his cheeks getting a bit rosy at the confession. “It’s been a minute.” 
You nod, still no hesitation or any sign of regret. God, what did he do to deserve you? 
Once he collects himself, he pulls out just barely, and a groan tumbles from his mouth to mingle with your soft moan. He’s already starting to sweat from the effort of not coming too soon as he starts to push into you at a slow but rhythmic pace. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and tuck your head into his chest as you whimper with his thrusts. 
“You feel so good,” you whine. 
“Fuck, sweetheart, so d’ you. “Like goddamn heaven.” And you do; overwhelmingly so.
He cradles your head and lowers the two of you even more to deepen his thrusts. He knows he’s found your spot when your breath catches and you start to tighten around him every time he pumps his hips. Unfortunately, this makes it a lot harder for him to keep his composure. 
“H-honey, I have to pull out,” he grits out. He’s so embarrassed, it hasn’t even been five minutes. He won’t last long enough for you to come before him.
But you just nod into him, even though you must be devastated by the loss of your orgasm. “It’s okay, Joel,” you breathily assure him. 
He pulls out and squeezes the base of his cock, out of breath. He doesn’t meet your gaze as he starts to apologize.
“I’m sorry, baby, I—” 
“Joel,” You stop him by carefully grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at you. “It’s okay.” You nod, waiting for him to do the same before you continue. “Take as much time as you need. I love you no matter what. This does not determine—” 
You both realize what you said at the same time. Joel’s eyes widen and his chest feels like it caved into itself. Your lips stay still, parted in the middle of your sentence. Joel doesn’t realize tears have gathered in his eyes until his vision starts to blur and a smile spreads across his face. 
You love him. You said it. And he believes you. 
“I love you too, baby,” he whispers and lets his forehead rest against yours. “So damn much.” Fuck his age and whoever might see a problem with you being together. He wants this, and you want this, and that’s all that matters. 
Then you’re both laughing shakily, pressing kisses to each other’s lips. He only stops to start trailing them down your body instead, watching you writhe as his mustache tickles your bare skin. 
“Joel, p-please,” you beg quietly. Joel just huffs a small laugh through his nose as he lays himself between your legs, ignoring his protesting knees as he admires the entirety of you laying out just for him. You look fucking beautiful covered in a thin sheen of sweat atop his sheets, needy and panting all for him. 
He doesn’t waste too much time before putting his mouth on your sweet pussy, his tongue dragging up your slit to flick at your clit. Joel moans at your taste, sending vibrations racing toward your swollen bud. Your hips buck as your hands fly to grasp at his hair, tugging lightly and making his eyes roll back. 
He feasts on you like his life depends on it, worshiping you with all he has. He takes turns in running his tongue up you, fucking you with it the best he can, and suckling on your clit. He looks like a damn mess as he does so, his eyes not leaving your cunt unless he’s watching your face contort with pleasure. When you make eye contact with him, he knows he must look fucked out and desperate just based on the way you groan and lay your head back. 
It doesn’t take much for you to get to the edge, and it takes even less for him to push you over. You let out sharp, whiny sounds as he sucks on your clit and slips a couple of fingers inside of you to grip on to. Your entire body goes tense, and Joel has to resist the urge to smirk against you as you shake with the force of your orgasm. 
By the time you’re coming down, he’s back over you and slipping his tongue inside your mouth to share your taste. You moan into the kiss and pull him closer as he once again glides his tip into your cunt. Just as he had hoped, the distraction calmed him down enough to hopefully give him some more time. 
You both melt into each other as he bottoms out, the tip of his swollen cock hitting your cervix and making your thighs squeeze his torso. He starts at a faster pace than last time, too deep in his lust-filled haze to even try to slow down now. 
You pull away from his mouth to start leaving love bites on his neck, making his cock twitch inside of you with each pinch. He can feel you smile against his skin, and knows that you’ve found his secret. He does like a little pain with his pleasure. You keep going, sucking and biting marks before licking soothingly over them and moving to the next spot. You taste him like you’re addicted, like you could never possibly get enough.
It still doesn’t take him as long as he would like to before he starts to feel his balls drawing up and his thighs start to shake. His head goes foggy as he tries to hold on for you, but it’s too fucking much. He can’t hold it off when you feel so good around him. It’s like torture to stave off his orgasm when he’s thrusting into your soft heat. 
“Where d’ you want me, honey?” Joel asks you, his voice strained. 
“Inside,” you whisper against his neck without a second thought.
And it throws him over. He groans your name as his body stutters and his balls empty, coating your walls with his milky spend. It seems to go on forever. Each time he thinks he’s almost done, there’s another spurt and another wave of pleasure that tugs him deeper into euphoria. 
When it does end, he lets himself half-collapse on top of you. You embrace him with welcoming arms and the two of you catch your breath together in the now dark bedroom. He only pulls out once sleep threatens to take the both of you. A shower, snack, and a glass of water later, you both snuggle up together and fall asleep with content smiles and full hearts. 
*****
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919 notes · View notes
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Can you write a one shot with Daddy Pascal? They have an age gap of 20 years and she’s super nervous to go public with him cause she’s afraid that his fans won’t like her? And he comfort her
A/n: hell yes I can, and hopefully you'll like this. Also this gif is freaking hot.
Pairing: Pedro Daddy Pascal x reader
second part || Masterlist
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"It's not that easy."
"It is." Pedro stood closer to you. "I just want to be able to call you mine in public."
You sighed, gnawing on the peeling skin of your lips, something you do when nervous. "I.. I can't."
"What?"
"I can't, I'm sorry.. I just.. I can't. Not now."
Pedro couldn't believe his ears. Both of you have been together for two years, and this has been the one thing Pedro wanted. But he kept it a secret for you, because of the age gap, because he knew you weren't ready.
But now after two years.. you're still not ready.. so what now?
---
That conversation was a week ago. Pedro got pretty upset after that, wouldn't really call you when he's on break, wouldn't tell you if he's coming home, wouldn't call you pet names -- but you understood. Pedro was justifiably upset, but you didn't think it was a good idea to go public at the moment. And it's all because of-
Pedro shut the door with a soft thud and was surprised to see you lying on the couch on your phone.
"Hey. You're still awake?" He asked, though you're obviously still are.
"Yeah, I was just browsing social media." You gave him a little smile.
Pedro nodded and proceeded to go to your shared room. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes did not go unnoticed by you, and the way he was walking tells you he was probably from a nightclub.
It's not like you two had to report your location or schedule at all times, but usually going to a nightclub is something you tell your partner.
You shook your head, not wanting to overthink it, but your thoughts kept coming back to it, and so you followed him to the bedroom and asked him.
"Were you out clubbing?"
Pedro sighed and undressed, ready to go shower. "Yeah, it was a last minute thing with some coworkers. Sorry I forgot to tell you."
"'S okay." You offered another small smile.
Ignored. Pedro walked past you to the bathroom.
As he was showering, you wondered how you should talk to Pedro about going public. It's not like you didn't want to, but have you seen the amount of fans Pedro has?
The amount of people that call him daddy, that make edits of his movies, his interviews? The amount of people who love him?
And if they find out that he's dating someone who's about 20 years younger than he is, what would happen to him? Would he be accused of grooming? Would his fans understand?
You didn't realize how long you've been standing at the same spot until Pedro gently touched your back after his shower.
"Cariño, are you feeling okay?"
Cariño.
You looked at him and exhaled. "Can we talk?"
Pedro had a feeling he knew what you wanted to say. He sighed and sat on the bed, with only his damp towel hugging his waist.
"So, have you decided I'm too old for you?"
You frowned, "what?"
"Let me guess, it's been fun but you want to find someone who's closer to your age? Or is it because you realized this lifestyle isn't for you?"
You felt a little hurt. Did Pedro really think you're going to break up with him because of this? "Pedro, I'm not breaking up with you."
"Then what is it? I've been holding back mentioning your name during interviews when they ask me if I have someone I love, and yes, I do - It's you! I love you, so so much. I want to be able to bring you to places, show you off - I know it's probably a lot to ask, but cariño... I.." he sighed, unable to finish his sentence.
He was obviously frustrated, and this was mostly the aftermath of the alcohol talking. You sat next to him and held his hand.
"I'm scared." You admitted.
"Cariño-"
"Do you know how many videos of you are out there? Ones that your fans make, some even edit them from interviews from years ago. Or how many fanfictions there are of you? Or just the amount of fans you have that worship you day and night?"
You looked at him, worry in your eyes. "They all love you and look up to you so much, and so do I. I don't want to.. to ruin your life because we're going public. We have a huge age gap between us, that doesn't normally sit well with people."
"I also want to show everyone you're mine.. you know how ugly jealous I get when I see some of your costars flirting with you on the red carpet." You placed a hand on his cheek.
Pedro chuckled, leaning into your touch. "I guess I hadn't thought about that part.."
He pulled you closer to sit on his lap, his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. "But I still want to. If they're really my fans, they'll understand. And yes, our age gap is.. pretty big, but I've never loved anyone as much as I love you."
"You are.. mi amor, mi vida. And I'd do anything to be with you." He kissed you softly.
You ran your hands through his hair, and they rested on his neck. "Okay."
"Okay?" You could hear the excitement in his voice.
"Okay." You nodded, reassuring him.
He gave you the biggest grin he had as he hugged you and pulled you both to lay down on the bed, laughing while he was at it.
"Then it's decided. You're coming to the next red carpet with me. As mine."
----
A/n: my crush on this man is starting to feel dangerous.
second part
4K notes · View notes
jksprincess10 · 1 year
Text
My boyfriend's dad || Boyfriend’s dad ! Joel x reader
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Summary: When you meet your boyfriend at his family house, you find out he’s at a party and cheating on you. Your boyfriend’s dad offers to take care of you and show you what a real man is like. (2kwords of pure filth)
Based on this request!
CW: Talks of cheating, polyamory undertone, Joel is married to bisexual Tess, oral sex (f and m receiving), petnames, praising, protected sex, talks of voyeurism, unspecified age gap (reader is an adult), Joel has a dirty fucking mouth, innocent reader. 
Please reblog if you enjoyed and check out my masterlist !
You had been dating Chris for a few months now. He wasn’t… the best boyfriend, per se, but he always pulled you back to him when you wanted to walk away. In retrospect, you didn’t know what kept you with him.
Maybe… it was to keep seeing his dad. It was fucked up. Mr. Miller was an handsome man in his late 40s, maybe early 50s, married with an equally hot woman, Tess. But you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore when you imagined his dad instead of Chris pounding into you.
It was a Friday night, and you were supposed to meet Chris at his place to spend time with him. But when you knocked on the door, his dad answered instead of him. Chris’s car wasn’t in the driveway, but still, you had hoped to see him.
“Oh, hi, Mr. Miller! Is… Chris here?”
You felt his burning gaze trailing down your figure dressed with tight clothes.
“M’sorry sweetheart, Chris said he was going out with friends.”
You frowned and tried to hide your disappointment. “Oh… we were supposed to see each other.”
Joel seemed sorry; he knew his son wasn’t the best boyfriend.
“Look, you came all the way here. ” He looked at you, uncomfortable. “D’you wanna come in and maybe try to call him?”
“T-Thanks.” He moved from the door and let you come in. The house was silent. It seemed like his wife and his oldest daughter weren’t home.
“Is miss Miller still working night shifts?” You asked, standing in the entryway awkwardly as he closed the door behind you.
“Yeah… hospital’s kickin’ her butt. ”
“She… she’s doing a necessary job. You must be proud of your wife.”
Your boyfriend’s dad didn’t respond, instead, he gestured towards the living room, so you’d come in. You kicked off your shoes and sat on the leather couch. Mr. Miller brought you the house phone.
“He gave me his friend’s number in case of emergency, let me get it for you.”
He typed in the number, and you watched as he waited for the phone to ring with a concentrated look on his face, eyebrows frowned. 
“Hey Johnny, yeah, is my son there?... Why is the music so fuckin’ loud…?.. Yeah, please. Put him on the line.”
He passed you the phone and gave you some space, going to the kitchen. On the phone, you heard the shuffling of blankets and a female voice as you picked it up.
“Hey, thought we were meeting tonight?” The nails on your free hand were digging in your palm, as you tried to contain your anger, understanding what was going on.
“Yeah sorry, Johnny was feeling low.” He could barely get any words out.
“Is this why you sound drunk as fuck?! And who am I hearing behind you?”
“Well…”
“You know what, Christopher Miller?! I’m done with you. Have fun.”
You aggressively hung up the phone. You were so used to Chris’s bullshit, that you didn’t even cry. You were just angry. You put up your legs against your chest as you tried to calm yourself.
Mr Miller came back with a glass of fresh water. You thanked him.
“M’sorry sweetheart… I’m afraid my son’s a real asshole.”
You looked up at him and shrugged.
“I guess… I should know by now.” You got up to leave. “I’m sorry for the bother, Mr. Miller. I’ll go home now.”
“No, no… Please.” His hand held your arm to stop you. You turned around to look at the older man, puzzled, but you couldn’t help the shivers that ran through your body. “You shouldn’t drive right now. You’re angry. Wait it off, or I’ll give you a ride home.”
You didn’t want to be impolite and decline his offer, so you went back to the couch, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. You finally took a sip of the glass of water Mr Miller had given you earlier. Your boyfriend’s dad sat beside you; big hands laid on his lap.
“Y’know… It’s not a huge loss.” You looked up at him as he said that to you, confused that he was talking like that about his own son. “I’ve heard you fuck, and I can tell when a woman is faking.”
He was right, but still, you choked on your water and put the glass on the table in front of you. Mr Miller’s warm eyes locked with yours. Were you seeing… the familiar glow of lust in his blown-out irises?
“He never took care of you the right way, hm? Only thought about his own pleasure? Poor babydoll…” His calloused hand met the soft skin of your blushed cheek. “I’ll show you what a real man’s like.”
Before you could even respond, Joel’s mouth was on yours. Your hands laid flat on his chest as you pushed him away slightly to ask:
“But… your wife?” In your head, right now, the father was just as bad as his son.
“Oh, don’t worry. Tess begged me to take care of you. S’a shame that she’s not here right now. We have an agreement.”
You felt arousal pool between your legs as you imagined Joel and his wife thinking about you in that way.
“I… okay.” You were barely reassured, but you couldn’t keep your mouth to yourself when you had wanted this since you started dating his son. You straddled Joel’s thighs, and looked down at him lustfully, before finding his plush lips again. Even if you were on top of him, the older male had total control over you. He invited you to open your mouth with the slid of his tongue. You tasted all of him ; you couldn’t help moaning inside his mouth.
“Knew you wanted this too, hm? Were you thinking about me while my son was fucking you?” He said against the skin of your neck, where he left open-mouthed kisses.
“Y-Yes… Yes I wanted this, Mr. Miller. Still do. Please.”
You felt his arousal through the thin fabric you were wearing. He seemed… really big. As he got up, Joel tucked his hands under your ass, and you wrapped your legs around him while he brought you up the stairs. You thought he would bring you to his own room, but instead, he brought you to Chris’. He laid you down on the familiar bed. It was an asshole move, yes, but god did it turn you on. Joel’s hands slid down the clothes covering your core, and you shivered when you felt the coldness on your wet folds.
“I’ll use my mouth on you, how d’ya feel about this, babydoll?” He asked as he kneeled in front of the bed. His hands pulled on your thighs to bring you closer, his face centimeters away from your heat.
“Please.” You didn’t say it, but Chris never did it.
“Hmm, so polite.” As he went even closer, the vibration of his raspy voice against your skin made you shiver. The older man tentatively licked at your folds, collecting the wetness that was forming there.
You squirmed, sensitive.
“Oh babydoll, you’ve never done that, haven’t you?” He looked up at you with pity in his pretty eyes. Your boyfriend’s dad looked so fucking beautiful like this, dark eyes following your movements. From this angle he was just a pretty head of curly hair between your legs.
You shook your head “no”.
His hands held down your thighs as he licked at your core more confidently this time. He took it slow, letting you get used to this new sensation. Your head was spinning, it was better than anything you had experienced before. He traced lazy circles, getting closer and closer to your clit. When he hit it with the tip of his tongue, you moaned and grabbed at his hair to hold him there.
“There it is... my sweet girl…”  He pressed confidently against your little bud of nerves, before putting his lips around it to suck it. Your fingers pulled on his hair as you cried out his name. He sucked roughly as he sneaked a finger into your wet heat. One finger was already filling you up, you didn’t know you could take more, but the pressure he put on your clit kept you away from the pain. 
He stretched you up slowly, and when he felt like you were ready, he added another one. It was… a lot, and you felt your stomach twisting with pleasure. His fingers moved expertly until they found that perfect spot, which they hit again and again as he kept pleasing you with his tongue. You threw your head back, white stars filling your vision while you came hard. Joel helped you through your orgasm and slowed down, until he stopped.
“Was that good, babydoll?” He asked as he got up and wiped his mouth.
You nodded enthusiastically, which made him laugh. You backed away a little to give him space, and he took place between your open legs. You sat up and pulled on his tight shirt. He helped you take it off. He was still in shape despite his age. Just like you had imagined.
“Mr Miller… can I… please you?”
“Fuck. You’re too good, babydoll. I wanna focus on ya.”
“No, I really want to. Please. ” You begged with pretty eyes.
“Fine. Let me see those nice tits first, hm?”
He kissed you roughly, and pulled on your shirt, until you broke the kiss to help him take it off. Of course, you weren’t wearing any bra. His hand grabbed your breast, and you cried when he leaned in to suck on your hard nipple. Your shaky fingers found his belt, and he helped you get himself out of his pants. He took off his last layers and laid beside you. You looked at his dick with wide eyes. His hand caressed your cheek to reassure you.
“You don’t have to take all of it in, babydoll.” With the pressure of his hand, he coaxed you to get closer to his hard and leaking member. You leaned down, giving him a perfect view of you tits, and your ass up in the air.
Your hand took care of the base as you opened your lips and slowly slid his cock between your lips. You let it lay heavily on your flat tongue, before closing your mouth around it. His fingers found your messy hair to encourage you.
“Doin’ so good fo’ me.”
With the help of his encouragement, you bobbed your head up and down as you sucked in your cheeks. Joel cursed and laid back on the bed. He had an arm over his face, probably concentrating on not painting your mouth already with cum. You sucked his dick enthusiastically, your hand taking care of the base. After a few more strokes, he said: 
“You’re gonna make me cum all over your face, babydoll.”
You moaned in response, your voice vibrating around his thick dick. He pulled on your hair to move you away. You looked beautiful like this, red lips glistening with a mixture of precum and saliva, your makeup running down your cheeks.
“Stop. Let me fuck you, now.”
You laid down, waiting for him as he got condoms and lube, which he used to coat your entrance and his latex-covered girth. You spread your legs for him.
“I’ll be gentle with you, but you tell me what ya need.”
“T-Thank you.”
He kissed you softly, as he pushed his length between your folds. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, keeping him close and pushing his dick further into you. He stopped when he was fully into you, looking down at your face to make sure you were okay.
“You’re so fuckin’ tight, wish I could fuck you bare. But you’ll get tested and I’ll fuck you bare after that. Would love to fill your pretty hole and make you mine.”
The fact that he wanted to fuck you again after this made your stomach flutter with excitation.
“O-Okay. ” Your lips found the curve of his throat, where a vein was appearing. “You can move.”
He started slowly and not going to deep. But you pushed on the small of his back with your feet to encourage him.
“Can take more, Mr Miller. Please.”
He went deeper a few thrusts later, and you moaned. “Fuck, yes, that’s it…” You were so loud; thank God you were alone. Even though part of you wished Chris was here to hear what a real orgasm sounded like.
The movements of his hips got rougher and rougher, as he fucked deep into you. You felt a new sensation when he hit deep into you and when his fingers found your clit to circle it around it, bringing you closer to another orgasm. You screamed when you came and your walls closed around him, trapping him deep. Joel joined you soon after, fucking roughly into your walls until he found his release.
He kissed your sweaty forehead and got himself out, getting up to put the condom in the trash. He then laid beside you and pulled you close with his strong arm. You were breathing heavily, still on your high.
“Glad to hear you have a real orgasm, babydoll.”
You smiled lazily and kissed his jaw.
Lights filled the corridor, and the door of the bedroom was wide open. Tess appeared in the doorframe, and you pulled the blanket over you as a reflex, but she simply smirked as she looked at you two, laid beautifully on her son’s bed.
“You could’ve waited for me… ” She approached the bed and held your chin up with two fingers. Tess was a beautiful woman, even after hours of work as a nurse. “I’m so glad you got fucked real good, sweetheart.” She kissed your forehead, which made you blush. “Let me shower and I wanna see you two go at it again.”
You were hypnotized by the woman. You have never done anything with a woman before, but you’d do anything for her.
“Of course, miss Miller.” You said with a smile.
“Good girl.” Whispered Joel, sending shivers down your spine.
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kenobiwanx · 3 months
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pedro pascal as mr. darcy ✨️
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joekeeryswife · 1 year
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Pedro? Pedro. Can I request where reader is mid 20’s and has been dating Pedro for a few months and she brings him home to meet her family at a family reunion? 👀😍 I LOVE me some Pedro 🤤
Family reunion - p.p
hello angels! i hope everyone is okay. this request is so cute. if anyone has any requests don’t be shy to put them in my inbox. i honestly hate this i might delete it tbh. anyway, enjoy loves🤍 ⚠️age gap couple⚠️ (i based this on my family, i hope that’s okay xx)
taglist (feel free to add yourself🤍) @1-john-4-19 @newtandminhoaretoocute @mavs101 @brilliantopposite187 @mimi-luvzyu @iloveshawn @jaydiann @one-sweet-gubler (if there’s a line through your name i can’t tag you for some reason x)
you and Pedro had been dating for 10 months and it had been the best 10 months of your life. he had been the best boyfriend in the entire world. you and Pedro had travelled to your home town as it was your family reunion tonight and you thought it was the perfect opportunity for Pedro to finally meet your family. you had met his family about two months ago but Pedro was always nervous to meet yours.
your family was always welcoming, no matter who they were or what their background was they never judged a person. it was set in stone that Pedro would meet practically all your close family tonight and you could tell the nerves were getting to him. "does this look okay? do you think they'll like it?" he was looking in the mirror at his outfit, he was wearing dress pants and a creamy coloured shirt.
you were sat on your shared bed and had just finished putting on your heels. you always thought Pedro look beautiful in anything he wore and this time was no different. you stood up and walked to him, wrapping your right arm around his waist and pressed a small kiss to his cheek, trying not to transfer your red lipstick "you look perfect baby. i promise they're gonna love you" you gave him a reassuring smile which was met with a nervous one from Pedro. it wasn't a formal event by any means so you didn't bother dressing up too much but you were wearing a light pink co-ord set which fit your body perfectly.
after a couple more minutes of you both looking over your outfits you laced your fingers with his and started making your way to the car. Pedro decided to drive so he could keep his mind occupied. he wanted to make a good impression. you always talked about how much your family meant to you and he wanted them to like him. he was quite a bit older than you, probably closer to your parents age (which seemed crazy) but he had no idea how they would react.
obviously you had told everyone that Pedro was older than you and they really didn't mind. they always wanted you to be happy and if it was with someone older than you so be it. it took you guys about 40 minutes to get to your grandparents house and that's when he felt his heart start beating faster. he saw quite a few cars outside meaning everyone was here, which also meant he was meeting everyone right now.
you could see the nervous look on his face as you unplugged your seatbelt and smiled as he took a deep breath before unplugging his. you both got out of the car and started making your way to the front door, hand in hand. "i promise you'll be fine. you have nothing to worry about" your thumb stroked over the back of his hand as he nodded his head.
you finally arrived at the door and knocked straight away, giving him no time to even think. you heard footsteps approaching the front door before you saw your nan standing there with a huge smile on her face. "y/n" she said, arms open as she pulled you in for a hug, making you let go of Pedro's hand. your nan was one of your favourite people and not seeing her for months was hard, face-times and calls were sometimes not enough.
she rubbed her hand up and down your back as you tightened the hug. "i missed you so much" you said as you felt a small kiss being placed on your forehead. "we all missed you" she pulled away from the hug and moved her attention to Pedro who had his hand out for her to shake. "so this is the famous Pedro we've all heard so much about" she smiled and swatted his hand away playfully and pulled him in for a hug.
"it's nice to meet you" he smiled and hugged her back. that put some of his nerves at ease to be welcomed with open arms. "it's nice to meet you Pedro. everyone's already here so you guys go inside." your nan moved out of the way so you could both go to the living room where you were sure everyone was. you were surprised to only see your niece, Olivia and cousin, Hannah. Hannah and Olivia were on the floor colouring in Olivia's colouring book, not focused on anything but making sure they kept the colours in the lines.
"hey guys" you said with a huge smile on your face. Olivia was 5 already and it felt like she was growing up to quickly from the last time you saw her. they both looked up from the colouring book and Olivia's face lit up with excitement. she squealed and got up from the floor, running to you with her arms raised hinting that she wanted you to pick her up. "auntie y/n. i've missed you" she said, wrapping her arms around your neck once you had picked her up.
you felt your heart swell as you hugged her. "i've missed you so much angel" you smiled and kissed her head. she pulled back from the hug and looked at Pedro with a confused expression on her face. "who's that?" she wrapped her arms around your neck again, her shyness showing making you smile. "that's Pedro. he's my boyfriend. are you gonna say hi?" you whispered to her before she pulled away yet again and looked at him. "hi" she said with a small wave of her small hand. "hi" he replied, smiling at her.
she smiled at him as she finally felt comfortable again and you let her down so you could greet your cousin. Hannah was a year younger than you and she was practically your sister, she walked to you and wrapped her arms around you. "i'm so glad you're here. i've missed you" you heard Hannah say as she rocked the hug slightly. "i've missed you too. it's so nice to be back home" you said, pulling away from her.
"Pedro this is Hannah, my cousin" you smiled at him as he once again stuck his hand out for Hannah to shake but she shook her head. "thank you for making my cousin happy. she doesn't stop talking about you so it's nice to finally meet the man" she hugged him as your cheeks flushed a bright red. "you're welcome. she makes me happy so i guess it's only fair i do the same" he joked, making her laugh loudly.
"i think we should go look for everyone else. mums probably dying from waiting" you laughed as they pulled away from the hug. "your mum has not shut up about you since she got here. she can't wait to see you" you laughed and Hannah smiled as you grabbed ahold of Pedro's hand and started making your way to the kitchen where you heard your mums voice. your mum didn't notice you at first but once she did she practically ran to you and pulled you into her. "my baby. i'm so happy you're home" she said, tears filling her eyes. you hadn't seen your family in almost a year, with everyone having different work schedules and different events happening this was the only time you had gotten a break.
she pulled back and put her hands on your face as she looked over you, taking in the moment that you were actually home. "you look beautiful sweetheart" she lent in and kissed your cheek before turning her attention to Pedro who she immediately hugged. you saw your grandad who had the biggest grin on his face and you couldn't wait for Pedro to finish introducing himself to your mum so you made your way over to your grandad who opened his arms wide for you to hug him.
"how've you been?" he whispered to you as he hugged you tightly. just hugging everyone made you realise how much you'd missed them over the last year. "i'm okay. i've missed everyone though. i hate being away" he nodded his head and kissed your cheek and turned to see Pedro and your mum making their way over to you.
now your grandad looked mean and scary to anyone who didn't know him but he wasn't, he was the kindest, most selfless man you'd ever met. you had been on face-time with your grandad when Pedro was over one time and had spoken to each other for 5 minutes before Pedro had to go to work but speaking on face-time was completely different to meeting him in person. "Pedro, it's nice to see you in person. how are you doing?" your grandad stuck out his hand for Pedro to shake, which he immediately did and nodded at him. "i'm doing great thank you. how are you?"
Pedro was more nervous to meet your dad and grandad more than anyone but seeing your grandad in person and being welcomed by everyone who he had met so far made him feel at ease. that was until your grandad offered to show Pedro around and meet the rest of your family without you. "are you sure? i can show him around grandad" you said, looking between Pedro and your grandad who just shook his head. "Olivia has been wanting to spend time with you and Stacey has just gone into the living room with the baby. you haven't met her yet, Pedro will be fine"
you looked at Pedro who nodded his head reassuringly and smiled when you gave him a small kiss on the cheek before scurrying off back to the living room where you awed loudly seeing your new niece in your cousins arms. "oh my goodness look how adorable you are" they heard you say as you took the baby from Stacey's arms making the two of them laugh at you.
"come on, her dads outside with everyone else" your grandad led Pedro to the back garden where your dad, brother and the rest of your cousins were. he saw everyone in a circle speaking but he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. “guys, this is Pedro, y/n’s boyfriend” your grandad announced making them all turn around to look at him. this was intimidating. 5 men staring at him intently, analysing him as he approached them.
after a few seconds of awkward silence they all smiled and hugged him at the same time a chorus of hellos. “welcome to the family mate. one rule is treat her well which it seems you are already doing so well done” your brother Adam said and Pedro nodded. of course he was treating you well, you were the best thing to happen to him and he loved you. “would you guys mind if you left us alone?” your dad said, sipping his drink before they all nodded.
“we will be inside” your brother said and it was now left with your dad. your dad could see the anxious look on Pedro’s face and sent him a small smile “you don’t have anything to worry about, i just wanna get to know the man who’s been making my daughter happy is all” your dad said, hoping to give him a little bit of reassurance.
“i’ve seen y/n hurt in the past. you’re her first boyfriend in five years i think and i would hate if something happened between the two of you. she looks happy in every photo i’ve seen of you both and the way she talks about you shows how much she loves you. i hope you aren’t one of those people who will hurt her. she doesn’t deserve it” it was true, your last boyfriend had crushed you and it took a lot for you to open up to Pedro.
“she told me about her ex and i’m nothing like that. i love her a lot and if i’m being honest she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, i wouldn’t dream of hurting her, she’s to special” your dad nodded and smiled again. his words seemed genuine. your dad patted him on the shoulder “thank you for making her happy. i’m glad she met you” with that the two of them made their way back inside the house. your brother and two of your cousins were in the kitchen and the rest of the family were in the living room.
the two of them walked in and saw you next to Hannah with the newest addition to your family in your arms, huge smiles on both of your faces as the baby cooed as she looked at you. “you are the cutest thing i’ve ever seen” you said making Olivia look up from her colouring book with a frown on her face. “excuse me auntie y/n but i am actually the cutest thing” she sassed, making everyone laugh loudly.
"i'm sorry Liv. i meant you are the cutest thing i've ever seen" you smiled at her and she nodded and went back to her colouring book, satisfied with your answer. once everyone had gone back to their own conversations Pedro came and sat next to you, wrapping his arm around the back of the sofa. you passed the baby to Hannah and turned to him. "everything okay?" you watched as he nodded and smiled. "i think your dad likes me" you felt relieved that your dad liked him, he hated your ex boyfriend so for him to make Pedro feel welcomed made you happy "i told you that you had nothing to worry about didn't i?" you lent in and pecked him "yeah you did"
"i'm sorry Liv. i meant you are the cutest thing i've ever seen" you smiled at her and she nodded and went back to her colouring book, satisfied with your answer. once everyone had gone back to their own conversations Pedro came and sat next to you, wrapping his arm around the back of the sofa. you passed the baby to Hannah and turned to him. "everything okay?" you watched as he nodded and smiled. "i think your dad likes me" you felt relieved that your dad liked him, he hated your ex boyfriend so for him to make Pedro feel welcomed made you happy "i told you that you had nothing to worry about didn't i?" you lent in and pecked him "yeah you did"
“i’m sorry Liv. i meant you are the cutest thing i’ve ever seen” you smiled at her and she nodded and went back to her colouring book, satisfied with your answer. once everyone had gone back to their own conversations Pedro came and sat next to you, wrapping his arm around the back of the sofa. you passed the baby to Hannah and turned to him. “everything okay?” you watched as he nodded and smiled. “i think your dad likes me” you felt relieved that your dad liked him, he hated your ex boyfriend so for him to make Pedro feel welcomed made you happy “i told you that you had nothing to worry about didn’t i?” you lent in and pecked him “yeah you did”
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quin-ns · 1 year
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Invisible String (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 3K
Summary: bill and frank host. tess is jealous. joel is confronted with his feelings. you cry over a shower
Tags: 2007 (as seen in ep3), age gap, protective!joel, jealousy, tess isn’t painted in a bad light but she gets her feelings hurt a lil, angst, joel being emotionally suppressed, everyone hiding their emotions actually no one copes normally, emotional hurt/comfort, hugs, pining!joel, hugs, fluff
Request: anon: “hello! i am totally obsessed with your work! i was womdering, if you still take requests, if you can write a joel x reader fic where the reader has a tough exterior with everyone, including Joel, but he knows how sensitive and delicate she is on the inside and behind closed doors. picture this for reference: she had warm water at bill and frank's and she started sobbing uncontrollably, but in front of joel she will always deny she doesn't feel depressed and emotional, but he knows better that this and they both help each other to open up.”
Request: anon: “loved your first joel fic!! if you’re okay with requests can you do another joel fic where maybe tess is jealous of how joel softens around the reader? like he’s not really an affectionate guy but with her he is and tess realizes how he feels about the reader? maybe they’re at frank and bills house and she knows joel doesn’t want to stay but for the reader he will? or something like that it’s up to you- you’re the writer after all”
A/N: so since both of these requests included joel being soft for the reader and them being at bill and franks, I decided to combine them. I liked both concepts and I thought mixing them would lead to something interesting. I feel like there’s more to this story so if y’all want a part two lmk
Cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist
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When you, Joel, and Tess first met Bill and Frank, none of you had any idea how you’d end up feeling about the two men.
Frank had allowed the three of you to enter their isolated town and introduced them both (okay, nice enough), and then Bill had pointed a gun at you (not so nice). Why you? No particular reason other than that you were his closest target. From that moment Joel wasn’t a fan.
“If you’re gonna point that thing at someone, point it at me. Not at her,” Joel said sternly, his hardened gaze fixed on Bill. The two stared one another down for a moment as Bill quickly identified Joel’s weakness. Tess looked at Joel, working hard to hide the frustration on her face.
He obliged, turning the gun onto Joel.
“Bill,” Frank said softly yet firmly.
Bill glanced at Frank, who was silently asking him to relent. Bill lowered the gun with a huff.
With the hostility out of the way, or at least set aside for the moment, Frank offered you an apologetic smile.
“Would you like to see our home?” he asked as a peace offering.
“We’d love to,” Tess answered at the same time as Joel, who said—
“We actually should be going.”
You didn’t say anything, which caused them both to look at you. Tie breaker.
Tess had a feeling you’d agree with her, but what happened next still bothered her.
You and Joel exchanged a look, having a silent conversation. Joel registered that despite the gun incident, you weren’t fearful. It was only because of that that Joel looked at Frank and nodded.
“Alright,” he changed his answer.
Tess wanted to scream.
Frank seemed relieved and his smile grew. He led the three of you to the large white house that the two men called their home.
“You’re welcome to anything in the house,” Frank said kindly, ignoring the disapproving grunt that came from Bill. “Clothes, medicine, water, food—although Bill will be starting dinner soon—and of course the shower,” he listed off.
Your ears perked up at “shower.” Joel could tell by the way you actually lifted your head. Just a day ago you had been reminiscing on how long it had been since you felt clean. Like, really clean. Hot water, soap, soft towel—you longed for it and Joel knew that.
Frank noticed too. “Shower it is.”
“Thank you,” you said immediately. “For being so kind and sharing your home with us.”
“If I’m being honest, I’ve been bugging Bill for us to find some friends,” Frank admitted to you quietly. “Speaking of which,” he started. “Bill? Maybe you could get our other guests some drinks? I’m going to show—“ he looked back at you.
“Y/N,” you filled in.
“—Y/N to the shower,” Frank finished.
You didn’t hear what Bill had to say, but that was the least of your concern as Frank gestured for you to follow him.
Joel watched as you followed Frank away. He itched to go after you, not comfortable with you being apart from him. He felt incredibly protective over you and maybe it wasn’t the healthiest reaction, but he didn’t like to let you out of his sight. It scared him—not that he’d ever admit it.
“Don’t worry, I think she’ll survive without you,” Tess said sarcastically, smothering the genuine bitterness she felt at the man’s reaction. Joel was never like this before. Well, before you.
Joel threw her a glance, but didn’t say anything. Bill was approaching them and grumpily suggested they follow him into the kitchen.
They all made casual conversation, Tess doing most of the talking.
Upstairs, Frank was showing you to the shower. He’d given you a towel and found you soap, shampoo, and conditioner.
“Thank you so much,” you said yet again. Frank just laughed it off and told you no worries, and that if you needed anything you could just call for him.
You closed the door, isolating yourself in the bathroom. You turned on the water and held your hand under it until it was warm. A smile spread across your face. You quickly stripped and stepped under the water, longing for the feel of a hot shower.
It was everything you had hoped for. You relished in the hot water rushing over your tired body.
You prided yourself on being tough—like not even flinching when Bill pulled his gun on you—but something about the comfort that reminded you of the old world brought tears to your eyes. Their house was so normal. Nothing like the wilderness, the destroyed towns, or even the QZ. You were only a child when the pandemic happened, but you held onto a few fond memories. You never felt at home in the QZ.
The only thing that made it feel comfortable and safe was Joel, but this was still so much better than the QZ. It was overwhelming.
Next thing you knew, a sob of happiness broke free. And once it started you couldn’t stop.
In the kitchen, Bill was standing at the stove cooking. Joel didn’t know what it was—but it smelled delicious. Frank had excused himself to set up a table outside so everyone could eat together in the nice weather.
“Sorry, by the way,” Bill announced, off topic from the previous discussion. He didn’t look up from his task of sautéing onions as he spoke. “For the uh, gun thing. Can’t be too careful.”
Tess and Joel looked at one another. They both suspected Frank must’ve said something to convince him to apologize. But beyond that, they both thought back to the incident. A flash of anger shot through Joel at the memory of the weapon being targeted at you. Tess remembered how reckless Joel had been, asking Bill to turn the gun on him. Would he really trade his life for yours? Once Tess started thinking about that, she couldn’t stop.
She started to become quiet during the conversation, which was pretty much when the talking fizzled out. Joel wasn’t very talkative, and clearly neither was Bill.
“I’m gonna go see if Frank needs help,” Bill decided after a few minutes. Joel and Tess exchanged a look. Obviously he just wanted away from them for a moment of relief—he wasn’t anticipating having to be social and wasn’t too happy with it.
Once they had a moment alone, Joel had a feeling Tess was going to unleash. It had been building up, Joel could tell her mood had turned sour.
“What was that?” she asked vaguely. Joel furrowed his brows. “Earlier,” she clarified.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joel stated. He had an inclination, but he was hoping Tess would drop it.
She didn’t. “You asked him to point a gun at you!” Tess said in a hushed yell, frustration seeping out in her scolding tone.
“He wasn’t going to shoot me,” Joel deadpanned.
“He wasn’t going to shoot at all,” Tess confirmed. “So then why did you tell him to turn it on you?”
She was pushing for an answer she didn’t want, but now that she had started Tess wasn’t going to let up. She was stubborn like that.
“I didn’t like him pointing a gun at Y/N,” Joel admitted. The memory of it made him clench his fist. Tess didn’t see that, but she saw the way Joel wouldn’t hold her gaze.
Her jaw clenched. “You’re too soft on her.”
At that, Joel scoffed. The sound came out before he could stop it. “How is that being too soft on her?”
Tess was quiet for a moment, contemplating her next words. “It’s not just that,” she said, quieter, almost distant. It was a contrast to how loud she’d been getting.
Joel took a deep breath through his nose, then let out a heavy sigh. He finally looked Tess dead in the eye. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
If it wasn’t for the desperate look on Tess’s face, he would’ve gotten up and walked away. She wasn’t done. She was struggling to say what she wanted to say, and Joel didn’t want her to.
“The moment she came into our lives, that was it,” Tess told herself just as much as she was saying it to Joel.
She was backing Joel into a corner. “Where is this coming from?” he questioned.
Tess let out a humorless laugh. “This has been a long time coming,” she confessed. “I see the way you look at her, how you act around her. She’s just about half your age and yet you always seem to find something in common. You cut me out, Joel.”
Joel was at a loss of words. He couldn’t seem to find the words to defend himself. Tess continued.
“We’ve been in that scenario before, do you remember? When you and I were making a trade and the punk pointed a gun at me?” Tess recalled. Joel recovered the memory quickly, and he began to zero in on exactly why this meant so much to Tess. “You never would’ve considered trading yourself for me. I know because you didn’t.”
“That was different,” was all Joel could come up with.
“I never would’ve made you choose between me and her, but you did on your own,” Tess held firm. Her jaw clenched as she fought to not let herself get any more emotional. “And you chose her. I see that now.”
“Tess,” Joel started, but she shook her head.
“Don’t try to lie to me. Please.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Joel said. He wasn’t even sure what he was planning on saying before. This had all come out of nowhere. At least for him, Tess had clearly had this on her mind for a long while and today just happened to be the final straw. “I’m sorry,” he decided, but it was too little too late.
Tess liked you. She really did. And you hadn’t done anything on purpose. You probably didn’t even know the effect you had on Joel. That’s what made being jealous of you so hard. She wanted to not like you, to blame you for stealing any ounce of affection Joel allowed himself to have, but she couldn’t.
She cleared her throat. “I’m going to go check and see if they need any help setting up outside.” The sudden calmness was eerie. Joel looked at her cautiously. “We’re going to just… drop this,” Tess decided. “And we can all try and have a nice time together, eat a real meal, take hot showers, and relax for the night before we head out in the morning.”
Suppression. Tess was going to bottle everything up. Ignore it and move on. It was something her and Joel had in common.
She left him then, and Joel felt no desire to go after her. He felt guilty about that, but he had nothing left to say to Tess about that and she’d concluded her piece.
Instead, Joel found himself leaving the kitchen table. He followed the sound of running water upstairs. You’d been in the shower for a while and there was a nagging feeling in Joel’s chest that longed to find you.
His feet carried him to the bathroom door, where he knew you still were.
Joel heard a sad, gasping sound from you. It was nearly drowned out, but he heard it. Concern overwhelmed him in an instant.
Joel pressed his ear to the door. He almost busted in, but wanted to take a moment. And it was good he did. What he had first thought were sounds of distress, was actually you muffling cries of relief. He could tell. He wasn’t sure how—maybe it was the tone, or the softness to the sounds, or he just knew you too well—but he could tell.
His hand reached for the doorknob. Joel grasped it and contemplated turning it. He leaned the side of his head against the door.
“Y/N?” Joel called through the door. He went blank over what else to say. Should he ask if you were alright? Would you be weirded out if he asked to come in? You were showering after all. Instead he said nothing.
You went silent. Joel felt bad now. You were never emotional around anyone, you tried to hide it from him. Joel wished you wouldn’t. But he supposed you were just following by example.
“Yeah?” you asked.
“Um,” Joel stalled. “I was just checking on you.”
“Oh, um, I'm alright,” you replied. A few seconds of quiet passed. “Thank you, though.”
Joel listened to the sound of water rushing from the shower. You’d stopped your tears it seemed, but Joel could hear the quiver in your voice when you’d spoken.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Joel told you carefully.
“I’m fine, Joel,” you assured.
When Joel first met you, you were innocent despite the dark world and wore your heart on your sleeve. You used to express yourself emotionally, but now Joel couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you let yourself break.
You’d gotten better about hiding it. He wanted to help you open up, but that was something even he struggled to do.
Joel went down the stairs and to the living room. No one else was in the house, he could see out the window that Frank was showing Tess around their garden while Bill was setting up the food.
Joel sat on the couch and thought over your interaction through the door. He wished he would have waited for you to come out of the bathroom to talk to you, to make sure you were okay, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Because then he’d have to explain himself as to why and after the conversation with Tess, he feared how you’d react to the knowledge of his feelings.
As if on cue, there were light steps descending down the stairs. Joel turned to look at you.
Your hair was damp, and you were wearing an oversized clean shirt that must’ve come from one of the hosts (Frank was the nicer one, so Joel guessed it was him who lent you it) and a pair of jeans that you’d packed that you hadn’t worn yet.
“Hi,” you greeted.
“Hey,” Joel said, watching you as you moved over to him. “Everyone else is outside.”
“I see that,” you said lightly. “Is everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Joel asked.
You shrugged. “I thought I heard arguing earlier. You and Tess,” you explained. “Bathroom is right above the kitchen…”
A brief moment of unease filled Joel. “What all did you hear?”
“No words clearly, just Tess raising her voice,” you revealed. Joel just gave you a slight nod. He had a feeling that wasn’t the only thing you had to say. “Did you, um… hear me earlier?”
Joel knew instantly what you meant. “No.” He hated lying to you. “Yes.”
“I thought so. I just”—you searched for your words—“I’m fine. That was just—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.”
You swallowed and took a breath. “I’m not weak.”
Joel let out a small huff. “I know that.” That fact that you thought you had to tell him was amusing in an odd way. He was well aware.
“Well, alright then,” you said decidedly. “It’s just been so long since we’ve had hot water and—“
“You don’t have to explain yourself. You’re allowed to feel,” Joel reminded. “I know you. You’re strong. But you’re also a good, sweet, caring person and I just”—Joel sighed, struggling for his words even as they were tumbling out—“I don’t want to see you go numb to the world. I don’t want you to end up like me.”
You looked at him curiously. He stood for some reason, it felt more natural for him. Your eyes held his on his way up. “You’re not numb, Joel,” you told him, sounding so sure of yourself. “I don’t think that. I think you put on a brave face just like I do. Although I guess I’m not as good at hiding it as I thought.”
A small laugh left you as you shook your head.
“What?”
“It’s just been so long since I talked about… feelings,” you admitted.
“Same here,” Joel agreed.
“It’s weird, isn’t it? I shouldn’t be, but it is.”
Joel got an idea. He hoped it wasn’t a bad one. “Maybe we can… help each other with that. Y’know, find a way to talk about it.”
You gave him a gentle smile. Before Joel could process, you were wrapping your arms around him and clinging to him in a hug. It was a sudden, unfamiliar movement. Joel held you against his body, resting his chin on your head.
“That’s a good idea,” you told him, your voice muffled against him.
Joel hadn’t touched, let alone held, someone in so long. It was nice. Mostly because it was you.
The sound of a door opening and heavy steps alerted you, causing you and Joel to part from one another. Frank approached the two of you with a welcoming smile on his face.
“Dinners ready,” he informed, looking between the both of you.
“Seriously, we cannot thank you enough, Frank,” you said kindly. He gestured towards the door in an “after you” manner. You gave him a smile and headed outside. Before you stepped out, you gave Joel one last grateful look.
There was a slight smile on Frank’s face as he looked at Joel, who hadn’t moved yet.
“It’s nice to have someone in a world like this, isn’t it?” Frank asked in a sincere tone.
Joel looked out the window towards the garden where you joined the table. You smiled at the sight of the food and took a seat.
After having a whole conversation about allowing feelings, Joel decided that he didn’t want to suppress the small smile of appreciation that crossed his own face.
“Yeah, it is,” Joel answered.
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starting a joel taglist, if you’d like to be on it lmk through an ask or message!
joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose
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lavendertales · 1 year
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Hi hi hi 🥰🥰🥰 any thoughts on writing a fox on reader and Joel Miller where they have an age gap (obvs) maybe reader is a friend of Tommy’s and Joel is a bit protective over her but they end up fucking and the whole time he’s trying to shut her up from the clickers by covering her mouth, choking her but at the same time talking dirty etc etc I’ll let you live out your thotty imagination with this one xoxo
Hiii love, thank you for the request! Well this one was... phew 🥵 hope you enjoy!
Where you belong || Joel Miller x f!reader**
summary: who would've thought one of Tommy's good friends would have such an impact on Joel?
word count: 2k
WARNINGS: this is FILTH. age gap mention, teasing, some dirty talk, mutual pining, male & female masturbation, choking, unprotected piv, vaginal fingering.
AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!
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gif: @pajamasecrets
Stubborn and harsh as he may be, Joel Miller knows how to appreciate some of the finer things in life.
A good song, a fine illustration, a movie that sticks with him for a while… and then there’s you.
Tommy’s made it clear that you were a close friend of his and Maria’s, and Joel respected that. He stayed within the limits of respect, never crossing the border. But he did enjoy the occasional sneak peek at you, always when you weren’t looking.
He’s not sure why. It just always felt… easier. Just watching you from afar and keeping things cordial between the two of you was always the easy and safe option, as opposed to actually caring too much.
Caring meant loss. And Joel had enough of that. He just needed something nice for a change. Something good, something that wouldn’t be tainted by the threat of harm.
Perhaps that’s why he’d grown so fond and so protective of you. Being significantly older than you was certainly another reason why he preferred to keep his infatuation for you at bay, but it also gave him a reason to be your unspoken protector. You didn’t ask for it, yet he simply provided it. For that, you were beyond grateful.
And frustrated, too.
Particularly on this hot summer evening in Jacksonville, when you were out checking the perimeter for raiders or infected, and you used every excuse imaginable to establish physical contact with Joel: a light grip on his arm when you faked a potential fall, soft giggles at his dry jokes that no one else seemed to get, and being face to face with him with every single opportunity you got. Five, in total. You gazed at him, searching his face for confirmation that he understood why you were doing all that, why you were craving his touch so dearly, and still you failed to see that. Joel remained as hardened as ever, and it only grew your frustration more.
So when you got back into town, throwing your gun on the rocking chair in the corner of your living room, you were surprised to see Joel behind you, footsteps heavy, as if he was angry about something.
“What’s wrong with you?” his thick voice asks.
You turn to him, utterly dumbfounded, almost insulted at the question he just posed. Maybe you misinterpret it, too, but hell if you give a shit right now.
It’s been months since Joel’s caught your eye, months of sneaky glances and wishful thinking, and closing onto three years without the intimate touch of another human being.
It’s too much. In this moment, all feels overwhelming.
“What is wrong with me?” you emphasize the pronoun. “What is wrong with you?! Have you not noticed me around you for the past, I don’t know, two hours?”
“Sure I have, how can I not?”
You scoff, hands on your hips and licking your lips in frustration. Gesture which does not go unnoticed by Joel, who licks his own in return, awfully tempted in this moment.
“I don’t know, Joel,” you reply sarcastically. “For someone with such great hunting and surviving skills, you sure lack some basic observation skills.”
He frowns, approaching you. “What are you talking about?”
You grow even more dumbfounded, curious whether he’s playing the fool intentionally or if he’s simply playing with you.
“How long have we known each other?” you ask.
“Six, seven months.”
“Seven months. Seven months since you’ve known me, and you still don’t know a fucking thing about me.”
“What don’t I know?”
You approach him too, your lips parted to make room for words that refuse to come out. Instead, you breathe through your mouth, your body nearly quivering at the simple, yet overpowering sensation of being so close to him, yet so far.
“What I like and don’t like,” you say in a near-whisper manner. “I don’t like being fooled. I don’t like being played or led astray, and I don’t like guessing. I hate guessing games. I was never any good at them.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
You nod several times, puckering your lips. “Clearly.”
“And what do you like?”
The way he says it, so rich with gruffness and tempting, it’s causing your knees to buckle and your heart to race faster. It’s the first time tonight you think he’s actually teasing you, and you feel heat spreading throughout your body, settling in your nether area.
“A lot of things, actually,” you reply, unable to look away from his full lips.
“Mhm. Like what? Tell me. Use your words.”
Yeah, he’s definitely fucking with you. But it’s all the more enticing.
You don’t tell him, though; you simply reach to press your lips onto his, only for a split second, and then you pull away. You watch his face closely, checking if you have his approval. When he wraps a faintly hesitant hand around your waist and pulls you in to kiss you properly, you melt into his arms, and realize that you do have all the approval in the goddamn world.
It doesn’t take long for the kiss to deepen. In a matter of seconds, you find yourself writhing beneath him on the bed, splayed shamelessly by his calloused hands. Under normal circumstances, he’d be a perfect gentleman and ask you out, spend as much time with you as possible, but for the past two decades, Joel lived on the edge, strictly in survival mode. Which means that some relief is all he can allow himself to have.
Your hands hastily undress him, messy just like the kiss you are sharing with him, and your breaths get ragged, as fast and irregular as your heart.
“You don’t know—how many goddamn times I’ve—wanted this…”
Joel’s voice is trembling despite its huskiness, and it causes you to shiver with excitement. The thought of him wanting you this much, this desperately, is getting you wetter with each passing second.
“Never allowed myself to—to want you” he confesses, peppering wet kisses along your jaw while you worked against his belt and zipper.
“Why not?”
“Tommy might kill me.”
“Or Maria.”
He chuckles briefly, prompting the same reaction out of you. You help him out of his jeans and his boxers, your mouth watering upon seeing how hard he is already. It’s beyond flattering, and you’re not sure how much longer you can stay apart from him.
“Thought about you too,” you confess, spreading your legs further so that you are on full display for him.
Joel stares at you in a delirious haze. In the sunset’s gold and red light, he can see the glistening of your pussy, and he swallows harshly. He doubts he’s ever felt this parched in his whole life, the waiting tearing him apart.
“You did?” he asks cheekily, cupping your sex while you gasp in surprise.
“Yes. Oh yes…”
He’s palming you gently, eyes locked on your face and nowhere else. He’s practically working on muscle memory, but it serves him correctly it seems.
“What did you think about?” he demands, drawing circles around your clit.
“Just you… touching me.”
“Like I’m doing now?”
“Yes—I thought about you… while I was touching myself.”
Joel can’t help the grunt that escapes his lips. That sole confession awakens something primal inside of him, something big, roaring in his chest. He pushes with two fingers past your folds now that he feels you wet enough to grant him easy access, and starts pumping in and out while you whine.
“Shh,” he coos you gently. “Easy, baby girl.”
“F-Fuck—“
“From this moment forward, you’re being silent. Not quiet. Silent. Is that clear?”
You bite on your lower lip and frantically nod your head while you palm your own breasts. It feels so good just to feel his fingers inside you, you can’t even imagine more. It’s definitely been a long time for you—presumably for him too—so you are awfully sensitive and needy, but just knowing that this is Joel Miller doing this to you, causing your body to react this way, to arch under his touch and whine from his words, it’s making you hotter and wetter than anything you could’ve ever imagined.
“Be a good girl for me and shut up, will you?”
He asks too softly for you not to obey, and again you nod frantically, unable to utter any words.
Joel’s fingers keep pumping in and out of you, faster and faster, and you do everything in your willpower to not scream. You barely let out a few whimpers, but it seems they get Joel going: you catch a glimpse of him stroking his cock in the process, the sight lewd as fuck. You focus on that while you reach in between your legs to furiously rub your clit while Joel’s fingers fuck into you, and his own hand is curled around his cock. Breaths ragged and in tandem, you work on each other to climb the ladder of ecstasy.
“Fuuuuuck—“you mutter, mouth in the perfect O shape as you feel your orgasm fast approaching.
“Keep your mouth shut, baby girl,” Joel reminds you, abruptly pulling out his fingers, now sticky as he takes them to your mouth, and you instantly suck on them, having a taste of yourself.
You don’t hide the disappointment on your face upon feeling empty, especially when you see that he’s not even jerking off anymore.
“There could be clickers around,” he seemingly justifies his command.
“We checked the area. There are none.”
“There are plenty of reasons for you to keep your mouth shut, darlin’. Or do you need me to find another use for it?”
You smirk. “If you want to.”
He doesn’t, though. That’s not for tonight, he thinks. Not when you’re both so worked up and needy. He wraps his hand around his weeping cock, almost ready to explode at how hard he is, and guides himself to your entrance. Muttered cuss words fill the room from both of you, said like a chant on repeat with the first roll of his hips against yours. Your pussy swallows him whole, and he watches mesmerized as you take all of his cock in, coating the hair at the base with your juices. He doesn’t waver with the pace: it’s fast and hard from the second thrust. He slams his hips into you, your wanton cries musically pleasing to his ears.
It’s only then that he wraps his hand around your throat, putting an end to any words you might’ve wanted to say. You only moan at him as he’s fucking you speedily, needy, with a fury you’ve only seen him use in combat.
“Do you fuckin’ know—what you do to me?” he grunts, the impending sensation of his release overcoming him. “Do you, hm? Look how full you are… stuffed with my cock… good girl, just like that…”
With a bit more pressure applied to the grip over your throat, you moan as you come, coating his cock with your arousal. The sensation of your walls trapping him inside you is the final click for Joel when he comes too, pulling out and painting the filthiest painting over your swollen pussy and thighs. His warm seed is all over your lower area, and there’s so much of it, you wonder how long exactly it has been for him since he’s last felt relief.
Breathless, you reach for him, cupping his cheeks and kissing him tenderly, a stark comparison to the rough way you were being handled just a few seconds before.
“Do you know what you are doing to me, Joel Miller?” you cheekily ask after a while.
“Think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
You both chuckle, the sound shared only between the two of you, in your bed.
It’s the first time in months Joel gets a good night’s sleep. And the first time in months since he’s laughed. All because of you.
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a7estrellas · 1 year
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PEDRO PASCAL as FRANKIE "CATFISH" MORALES TRIPLE FRONTIER (2019) dir. J.C. Chandor
request by @nataliabv 💜
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punkshort · 2 months
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i’m the anon who asked about the request! if you decide to do it, i’d absolutely wait forever😂 it’s very angsty tho, so the idea was for outbreak joel who doesn’t get the happy ending. reader who was head over heels in love coping with his death, maybe flashbacks to show the moments of reader seeing him die? idkidk the idea is very vague, sorry if it’s too sad!! if so maybe reader seeing him die was just a terrible nightmare & he’s there waking them up & helping them through a meltdown?
i’ve been craving for some emotional torture for wtv reason😭😭 thank you for even considering requests!🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
Thank you for this request! It's my first one, so I hope you enjoy it. Also, I had to take the out you gave me and make this a nightmare because I am a big ol' softie and I won't apologize for it, but I will apologize for taking so long to write it 😂
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I hate when you're right
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him into leaving Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.
Warnings: major character (Joel) death - but it is just a nightmare - don't read if you think that will still upset you, angst, language, violence, descriptions of blood/gore/death scene
WC: 2.5K
dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics
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You knew it was childish. You knew it wasn't essential. But you also desperately wanted to feel more comfortable, and was that really such a crime? To want to feel like yourself again? To want to wear clothes that you liked? That fit you properly? Jackson was well stocked with essentials, clothes included, but the clothes the men picked up on patrol were... utilitarian, to say the least. They grabbed the biggest and the warmest clothes so that it afforded more people the opportunity to use them, but you were beginning to grow tired of tucking men's oversized shirts into your pants, the material bunching up at your waist and twisting around as you walked, constantly trying and failing to feel comfortable in your own skin.
You thought Joel would be more open to the idea of heading outside the walls on your day off. You even teased him with the promise of picking up some new underwear, but he didn't fall for it. He fought you tooth and nail the whole evening, his voice lifting over yours angrily to explain how there's been an influx of raiders the past few weeks, that everyone agreed to lay low until they passed through, not wanting to draw attention or pick any unwanted fights. But you persisted. You always did, and you eventually wore him down when you threatened to leave without him.
Why was it such a crime to want to feel comfortable? It was just two people, you could lay low and go unseen, no problem. You've done it countless times before.
You had hoped he would have gotten over it by morning, but you were wrong. He hardly made eye contact with you during breakfast, skirting expertly around you in your kitchen, mumbling under his breath as he sipped his coffee and only shooting you angry looks when your back was turned.
The air was crisp and the woods were peaceful. You thought that would surely turn his mood around. He always appreciated being out with nature, living off the land. As much as he loved living in Jackson, he couldn't deny that part of himself that felt useful, that felt a sense of accomplishment by surviving out in the wild.
"C'mon, are you really gonna act like this all day?" you teased as you held up another shirt against your body before determining it was the right size and then tossed it in a pile with the others.
He was standing at the storefront window with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. "Don't know what you mean."
You rolled your eyes and looked around the store, spotting a table of underwear with a grin. You lightly skipped over and tossed to the side the pairs that looked far too dusty so you could look at the ones underneath. Clearing your throat, you held up a pair of bright red stain underwear. He turned around and you saw it: it was fast, he hid it well, but you still saw it. That all too familiar excited look in his eye.
"Don't you like them?" you asked with a playful pout. He furrowed his brow at you like he was annoyed, and maybe he was, but you still saw the heat beginning to crawl up his neck.
"They ain't practical."
You gave him a defeated sigh and strolled over to your pile of clothes, your fingertips daintily holding the undergarment out to him. "No? Then what are they?"
His eyes shifted from yours to the red material in your hand and you saw his throat work as he swallowed.
"Useless," he croaked, and you narrowed your eyes at him. You got a little closer, letting the soft fabric glide against the back of his hand when you dropped your arm to your side.
"Oh, yeah?" you said breathily, and you watched his eyelids flutter at your tone. "Then I guess it wouldn't matter if I brought them home and let you rip them off me."
He stepped forward, a growl emitting from his chest, low and deep, when at the exact same time, you both heard shouting outside the store. Swiveling both your heads towards the glass storefront, your blood ran cold when you saw six heavily armed men advancing towards you.
"Shit," he muttered, his arm pulling your shoulder down just in time to avoid the cascade of bullets that rained down upon you. You laid face down on the rough carpet, covering the back of your head with your eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the shooting to stop. Joel tugged on your arm and you opened your eyes in a panic.
"Follow me!" he shouted, army crawling towards the registers, and you dutifully followed behind, your heart racing wildly in your chest.
Once you made it, the counter offering some, but not much, safety, the both of you pulled out your guns and double checked your ammo.
"Alright, when they stop to reload-"
"I know," you said, cutting him off. You've both been in this situation before. You knew what to do.
Holding your rifle upright and against your chest, you breathed deep, trying to steady your hands until the bullets slowed and you heard more shouting. Joel nodded to you and you both sprung up from the floor, pulling your rifles against your bodies in sync and lining up your targets.
Patience is a virtue. The amount of ammunition they wasted on the two of you was laughable when you each caught one of them between the eyes, leaving four against two.
You thought you would be able to get another shot off but Joel tugged your arm and you slinked back to the floor as a shower of bullets rained over you once again.
"You good?" he asked, and you nodded, gasping for air. Your hands began to stabilize when the shock wore off. You were in the zone.
Pressing both your backs against the small counter, you remained calm and waited out your attackers. Glass shards tinkled and scattered behind you. Bullets pinged against the metal shelving, ricocheting into the drywall.
"Assault rifles for two people? Really?" you muttered, more so to yourself, but Joel heard you.
"Told you this was a bad fuckin' idea," he said angrily.
When there was another brief pause, he looked to you again and nodded. At the same time, you rose up and took aim, firing on your attackers once again. Joel made his shot, you didn't. Three down, three to go.
"Fuck," you grumbled, reloading your rifle even though you still had rounds left.
"Focus," he scolded.
The men sounded like they were getting closer. Their voices were louder. Clearer. The shots were deafening. You prayed they weren't inside the store, because you hadn't planned an exit strategy. Without warning, Joel stood up and fired a shot. You heard a man scream and then a loud thud. It sounded like the man was just on the other side of the counter.
"That's not the plan," you seethed at him when he dropped back down next to you.
"Didn't have a choice, he was 'bout to jump us," he sneered.
Two against two.
When the shots slowed down, you held your breath, looking at Joel from the corner of your eye. He held his palm up to you silently, signaling for you to stay where you were. You heard boots crunching slowly against glass and your heart leapt into your throat. They were in the store.
You shot Joel a panicked look but he just shook his head, focusing on their footsteps, calculating how far away they were.
"Come out now and no one gets hurt," a man's deep voice called out. He was close.
Joel clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils. You knew that look. It was the look of a man who was about to do something stupid. But before you could stop him, before you could reach out to him and hold him back, he stood up and took aim.
One shot. That was all you heard when Joel slumped to the floor next to you, clutching his stomach as dark red blood poured from the wound. Your eyes went wide and you saw red. Without thinking, you stood up and shot, taking one of the two men down with a yelp. The remaining raider ducked behind a display, and you dropped your rifle in favor of your handgun. Crouching low to the ground, you inched forward, careful of any broken glass that would give your position away. When you were on the other side of the display, you heard the man's labored breaths. He was scared. He was out of his element. And you had him right where you wanted him.
Silently tucking the gun in the back of your pants, you slid your hunting knife out from your ankle holster. You took a deep breath and lunged forward, driving the knife deep into the man's chest.
He dropped his gun and clutched weakly at your hands, but it was no use. His blood poured from the wound when you yanked your knife out with a grunt, and you watched as his hands slowly slid back down to his sides, his eyes still wide open and staring up at the ceiling.
You smirked, feeling victorious for only a moment before you remembered Joel. Dropping your knife, you rushed back to his side, only to find his face pale and his hands stained dark red.
"Joel!" you cried out, pressing your palms against the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. His eyes drifted towards you, softening when he saw you were alive and unharmed. That you were going to make it.
Panic consumed you. Your heart was slamming against your ribs as you fumbled with your backpack, trying to find your first aid kit through the tears.
"I love you," he whispered, and you shook your head.
"Don't start with that, you're gonna be fine."
"Baby," he said weakly, and you choked back a sob.
"Hold on," you told him, still searching in your pack.
"Look at me," he said, and your hands stilled for a moment before you dragged your eyes back to him, your lower lip trembling as you took in his deteriorating state.
"I need to-" you began, but stopped to take in a shaky breath. "I need to patch you up and get you to the horses."
"No, you don't," he said softly, and more tears spilled from your eyes.
"Yes, I do. I gotta-"
"I ain't gonna make it, sweetheart," he slurred, and you could see by the amount of blood he was losing that he was right. But still, you pressed your palms against the gunshot wound, your fingers slipping through his thick and sticky blood.
"Don't say that. I can't do this without you," you whimpered, and closed your eyes for a brief moment. You felt his fingertips weakly grip your chin and you forced your eyes back open.
"Yes, you can," he said as firmly as he could. He was so pale and weak and it was making your stomach turn.
You shook your head, about to argue with him, but he stopped you.
"You keep goin', you hear me?" he said, and still, you shook your head from side to side, small sobs slipping past your lips. "Don't let this world win. You... go on and keep fightin'. Please. Be happy, baby. For me."
"No!" you cried out, spittle dripping from your lips now, mixing with your tears. "I won't! I-I can't!"
"You can," he repeated, and gave you a weak smile. "I'm ready, baby. It'll be okay."
You squeezed your eyes shut tight, the tears leaking out, hot and angry on your cheeks as you sobbed over him, clutching his hand in yours so tightly, like if you squeezed hard enough, you could give him your lifeforce. Give him your breath. But moments later, his grip weakened and when you opened your eyes, his head slumped to the side and his lifeless eyes stared off into the distance.
"Joel!" you screamed, sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat with tears still streaming down your face. You looked to your side, where he normally slept, but he wasn't there. Panic squeezed your throat, your chest fucking hurt, but you flung the blankets off you and ran towards the door. Still not hearing any sounds, you raced down the stairs, almost tripping in the process but you had a grip on the railing to keep you steady.
When your eyes finally landed on his familiar form stretched out on the couch, his back to you, you allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief.
Reality came back to you now. You had your fight about leaving Jackson, but he won and you slept apart. You never left. He never got shot. It was all just a horrible dream.
You stumbled over to the couch, your tears unstoppable, the nightmare too vivid, too real. Your trembling hands clutched his shoulder as you fell to your knees on the floor, shaking him awake.
"What?" he grumbled, clearly still pissed off about your fight.
"I'm sorry!" you sobbed loudly, and when he realized something was wrong, he whipped around to face you.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.
"I-I had-" you began, then you hiccupped, cutting yourself off. His face was etched with concern as he forced himself up and cupped your face.
"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, the fear in his eyes reflecting back to you as you looked at him, still not sure what was real and what wasn't.
"I had a nightmare," you finally managed to get out. "About our fight. That we... we went out like I wanted and-and-" you collapsed into another fit of sobs, your shoulders shaking violently.
"Hey, it's alright," he soothed, pulling you up and into his lap and rubbing your back. You pressed your tear stained face into his neck, inhaling deeply, grounding yourself. He was alive. He was here. Everything was fine.
"I'm sorry," you whimpered, your throat still tight but your tears were slowing down. "I'm sorry we fought. I don't wanna go out anymore. I don't need new clothes, it was stupid, I'm sorry."
"Shh, it's okay," he said, pulling you tightly against his chest, "I'm sorry we fought, too. I just wanna keep us safe."
"I know, you're right," you said, pulling back a bit and wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Will you come back to bed?"
"Yeah," he replied with half a smirk. "'Course I'll come back to bed, baby. Don't cry, it's alright."
You let him lead you up the stairs and to your bedroom, your side of the bed still damp with sweat but it didn't bother you. Joel was safe and sound and in your arms and you didn't care if you had to wear a potato sack for the rest of your life, as long as you had Joel, nothing else mattered.
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macfrog · 11 months
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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
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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.”
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devilmademewriteit · 11 months
Note
Drabble request for dbf!joel getting blown under the table or something while he's having a convo with reader's dad?!?! IDK I just love your dbf!joel!!
You Can Be the Boss
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pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!afab!reader
warnings: rough oral (m receiving); petnames (angel, baby, sweetheart); age gap; choking; hair pulling; (yall this is pure pure daddy issues FILTH, I warned you. I warned you hard).
Hi y’all ty for sending me all ur requests. ummm you guys are insane ! and so am I ! maybe more because I’m actually the one writing these ! this one is so dirty ! don’t say I didn’t warn you !
more to come hehehe. I don’t tag ppl for my smaller drabbles / fics so turn on notifs or whatevs ;)
-em<3
“As close as I’ll get to the darkness, he tells me to, ‘Shut up, I got this.’”
- You Can Be the Boss
It was still a secret, after all.
Sneaking into his apartment, late nights in alleys, abandoned cars lining the streets of the QZ… you’d managed to keep your joint intoxication with one another under wraps.
Today… today was risky. You usually waited until the wee hours of the morning to even walk by his place, let alone enter, but you’d needed to drop off a sweater that Tess had leant you the previous week, intending to leave it folded up on the doormat before bolting down the hall. Your footsteps were nervous and heavy, which led to the door swinging wide open on its hinges, a gruff “where you runnin’ off to, Angel?” and a set of rough hands pulling you through the doorway.
Then you were spread open against the tattered table cloth of his (busy) kitchen table, underwear shoved to the side, watching a hunched over Joel Fucking Miller spit on his hand and run it up down his heavy, hard length.
“Shouldn’t come here during the day,” as he’d lined himself up, “Can’t fuckin’ help myself.”
That’s when you heard the definite sound of a key twisting inside a lock. Joel’s head shot up — your eyes barely had time to widen before he was shoving you under the table, panties still twisted around your ankles.
A quick zip, then footsteps.
“Oh, sorry man—”
Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
“—Tess said you wouldn’t be home.”
It’s your father.
You thank God for your his poor observation skills (and the tablecloth) as Joel responds, “ah, no worries,” frustratingly non-chalant as ever.
“While you’re here though,” and your heart sinks, identifying your dad’s intention to stay, “Was wondering if we could go over the plans for our new routes. FEDRA assholes blocked off another south-east one today.”
Your blood turns to ice inside your veins as both men pull out their chairs, settling into a purely-business conversation. Joel barely hesitates, cool as ice.
Not fair that he gets to be so calm while you’re so… not.
Not fair.
If only there was a way to even out the playing field.
Crunched into yourself, you scoot closer to Joel’s calves, clinging onto his denim and doing your best to make as little noise as possible. When it’s clear, however, that your father’s far too invested in the practicalities of the conversation to suspect or inquire into or even notice anything else, your eyes wander towards the slowly softening bulge, still visible underneath Joel’s belt.
And you get an idea.
The man always tortured you, and you were well aware that what made your arrangement especially enticing — for the both of you — was the taboo-ness, the wrongness of it all.
So your pussy drips just thinking about it.
Slowly, delicately, you slide your hands up Joel’s thighs, feeling his every muscle respond, tensing, turning to stone, or jolting with electricity beneath your playful touches.
It’s hard, quietly pulling down his fly. Still, metal tooth by metal tooth, you eventually succeed, unable to hold back a smile of vindication when his cock springs up, swelling and hardening between your fingertips. Joel covers his choke with a cough.
Just as you duck down to lick a fat stripe up his cock’s dark underside, noticing how the lungs above you constrict — freezing — the conversation changes.
“You been seeing a lot of my daughter?”
Joel takes an uncharacteristically long time to grunt out a “here n’ there.”
You hold in a laugh, both at your dad’s timely question and the reaction it causes. Placing a hand at the base of him, you consider this the perfect moment to start teasing his tip with patient, innocent little kitten-licks.
“Been acting weird,” your old man continues, unphased and unassuming, “Worried she’s been gettin’ herself into trouble.”
Trouble? You’re looking at him.
Your dad’s whole “fatherly concern” (not like he’d ever shown any before) angle makes you bold. You want to make it harder for Joel to deny your father’s suspicion.
You want to make him lie through his teeth.
You part your lips, wrapping them adoringly around the entire head of his cock before gliding down, using your hand to assist you as you please every inch of him.
While he mostly manages to keep it together, his legs don’t, gently parting with desire to allow you better access.
“She-she’s a good girl, man,” Joel manages, and while his delivery borders a groan, he stays surprisingly level (your body doesn’t forget to note his praise, either, aching cunt growing wetter and wetter at his every word). “‘Bit juvenile sometimes, and reckless—” he pauses, and it’s very clear he’s not speaking to your father, “—but good—” you work every inch of him with your hands, throat, and mouth, savouring the feel of his ridges and veins, the taste of his salt on your tastebuds, “—so good.”
You freeze, scanning the room for tension as both you and Joel try to figure out if his desire-stricken tone’s given you away.
It hasn’t.
Of course it hasn’t.
Your dad continues on as if everything were normal, as if Joel’s tip wasn’t kissing the back of your throat. “Just not sure if I’m raising her right—or… or if I was much of a father at all.”
Yeah, probably not. You know, given that I’m under the table sucking your best friend’s dick.
You watch, head still slowly bobbing up and down his length, a hand carving a careful path down his leg. Joel’s fingertips breach your shoulder, his palm slowly graduates to cupping the back of your head.
And he shoves you forward, forcing every punishing inch of himself down your little, gasping throat.
“Just needs a little discipline,” your torturer responds, raising his gravelly voice to mask the definite sound of choking.
“A heavy hand.”
You huff against his abdomen. Just like that, Joel’s taken the reins of your little operation.
Like he always did. Like he always does.
“You’re probably right,” your father responds, sighing with concession. Tears begin to well in the corners of your eyes while your lungs burn for oxygen, mouth stuffed and nose pressed into Joel’s skin. He chuckles, slapping the table. “Give ‘em an inch and they take a mile, huh?”
“That’s right,” Joel responds, a soft coo, tightening his grasp in your hair and somehow forcing more of himself between your lips.
Making his point.
You hold back a whimper, nails hopelessly clawing at his jeans.
Your dad raps his knuckles against the wood, pushing his chair back to leave. Unfortunately for you, Joel doesn’t move, holding you there like a prisoner — suffocating you.
He clears his throat. “I’d walk you out, but, you know—” your eyelids grow heavy, little stars beginning to dance in your vision “—been goin’ hard recently. Wearin’ myself out.”
A huff of understanding and concurrence from the other side of the room.
Eventually, after what seems like an eternity, hinges squeak, goodbyes are uttered, and your father’s left you alone with his buddy again.
Joel’s chair scrapes back — he pulls you along with him, attached to him, out from underneath the table.
Finally, finally, he releases his grasp.
You jump off of him, strings of saliva trailing from your lips, gasping for air as if you were seconds from drowning.
You aim to collapse against his knees, but he quickly grabs you by the throat, presses his big thumb under your chin, and forces your wet, tear-lined eyes up to meet his.
They’re filled with a lust so dark, you wonder if just that look might swallow you whole.
“Prouda yourself?” He speaks, voice low.
Dangerous.
And you just smile, dazed, nodding. Nodding because you know where it’ll get you. Nodding because you just know how much it’ll entice him.
“‘Course you are,” he continues, softer, “Shoulda been honest — shoulda told your old man he raised a fuckin’ slut.”
Joel lifts you up, indelicately shoving you down on the table, right back in the position you’d originally started the visit in.
His eyes darken to black when he sees how wet you are, how fucked-out, needy, and unapologetic you are.
“And you know what, baby?” A deceiving coo as he lines himself up at your entrance, using his other hand to squeeze your jaw — tight.
You look at him with big, begging doe eyes, eyebrows already knitting together from the tantalizing contact.
“I’m really fuckin’ glad he did.”
And as Joel Miller roughly sheathes his cock inside your young, tight cunt, you find yourself agreeing with him.
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