#serial killer!joel miller
Text
Midnight Snack.
3.4k slasher!Joel x f!reader
slasher Joel master list | spotify slaylist
SUMMARY: Joel has dinner at his Mom’s house, then pays you a visit.
A/N: Shoutout to @iamasaddie for the master list mood board magnets, @gasolinerainbowpuddles for the.edit, fridge magnet anon ask, @thesummerpetrichor , anyone I'm forgetting?
WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon unsafe p in v, creampie, light somnophilia, choking, degradation, home intrusion, manual restraint, spitting, toxic parental issues, angst/insecurity, changes POV, NO Y/N.
“What are you doing here?” you ask. .He doesn’t answer, just breathes heavily. He’s scowling down at you with a fine mist of perspiration along his hairline. . . Over a long moment of silence, a charge passes between your eyes and his. He tilts his head, wets his lips, and looks at your mouth. You reach for the back of his neck and feel the cold sweat under your palm. . .
============================
midnight snack
============================
“I said I’m good, Ma,” Joel grumbles as his mom puts another heaping spatula of casserole on his plate anyway. He sighs and pushes it around with his fork.
“What’s got ya down, hun?”
“Nothin’.”
“It’s a girl, ain’t it?” She smiles. “Knew it. Last time you were here, ya had that glow," she nods, then registers his sullen face again. "It's okay, hun. Whatever it is, you'll work it out.".
He hasn't stopped thinking about you since he was there. When he drives, when he showers, when he goes to bed, when he jacks off—he sees the desire in your eyes when you’re pinned against the counter. He sees your dripping hole stretched around his fist. He thinks about you every time he uses his wrench. Still smells like your filthy cunt.
"Tell me 'bout her,” his mom urges.
“Can't,” Joel mumbles. “Don’t got a girl.”
His mom looks at him knowingly. She always sees right through him. He doesn’t like how close they are, but in a way, she’s his only friend. He fails to suppress a little smile, then looks down shyly at his plate and finally takes a bite.
She asks, “How’d ya meet?”
Joel gives her a half-serious cautionary look and keeps chewing.
“Work?” his mom prods.
Joel swallows, nods, and takes a sip of milk. “Gave'r a ride.” Two rides, really. Although you took the second one all on your own. And damn, it was good. He shifts in his seat.
“Well, great,” his mom lights up. “When ya gonna see her again?” She dabs her mouth with a cloth napkin and stands up.
“I dunno, Ma. . .She’s too good for me.”
She huffs, adjusts her glasses, then walks over. She playfully whips him on the shoulder with the fabric napkin, then puts her finger in his face. “Don’t you ever say that. No one’s too good for my boy.” She takes his glass to the kitchen and pours him some more milk, then sits back down at the table.
“already left me once,” Joel grumbles.
His Mom’s face falls, then sours.
“Then she’s not worth your time." She scoffs. Or anyone else’s."
“She’s different, Ma," he mutters deadpan, then quieter, he adds, "Sometimes I think she likes me," with the slightest lift of his brow.
Mrs. Miller's eyebrows shoot all the way up. "Well, she should!"
"'mixed signals." He’s saying too much, but he can’t stop. It’s not like he has anyone else to talk to.
"Bring'er for dinner," she suggests.
"Ain't like that," he sulks. "We don't-" He cuts himself off and sighs, sitting back in his chair. He puts his napkin on his plate. "Shouldn't'a mentioned it," he mumbles.
His mom reaches across the table for his hand, and he gives it to her. He looks at the delicate, paper-thin skin covering the veins on her hand. It makes him sad. He wants to bring a girl home. He wants to make his Mom happy. He doesn't come by enough. She must be so lonely. And he's the one who. . .no, his father deserved it, he reminds himself for the millionth time in his life. He didn’t love them, his mom said. Resentment begins to overtake his guilt. He doesn’t want to feel sorry for her. He steels himself and decides to feel nothing.
"Look at me, Joel." She looks him in the eye. "You're not gonna get a wife like this, honey." Joel swallows and looks down. She continues, "Don't be a quitter. She's yours if you want her." Don’t be a quitter.
The buzzer for the laundry goes off. Mrs. Miller starts to head to the laundry room, but Joel stops her. "Feel like a loser when ya do my laundry."
She shakes her head in disapproval and starts clearing the table instead. "My son. . .” she picks up both their plates. ". . .Is not a loser."
Joel finishes his laundry, watches some tv with her while she knits, then pulls himself away. His Mom sends him on his way with an old tupperware of casserole. "Go get her," she tells him with a wink.
—-
He wants to make a move. He wants to fuck you again, but he isn’t sure how. How do people do it? He doesn't know how to ask you out, or what you'd do together. Every time he thinks about it, he feels stupid, but he does wanna see you. He wants to be inside you. He wants to make you purr, little sex kitten.
At this hour, you’re probably out whoring, but he might as well drive by while he’s close. All your lights are off, but your car is there. Hmm. He can't bring himself to go home. Don’t be a quitter. He sits in his car at the end of your street. Last time he came over, it went pretty well. You wanted him to fuck you, and he did. You wanted more, and he gave you more. Then he left before you could leave him.
He feels like you’re special, but he really only knows a few things about you. Most importantly, you like the danger, you want the thrill, you want his dick, and you sure can take a cock.
The only thing he can think to do is give you more of what he knows you want. Even if you're asleep, you'll be purring for it as soon as he drags you out of bed and pins you on the floor. He pictures a knife at your throat. Not a big one, just his switchblade.
He gets out of his car and adjusts his balls, spreading his feet for a moment. Then he starts walking to your house. After a few seconds, he goes back to his car for the casserole. Maybe you'll have a midnight snack after he stuffs you full of his cock. He rolls his eyes at himself. That’s stupid.
—-
There's a lamp with a dying bulb barely flickering on your back patio with a couple of moths fluttering wildly around it. Joel looks into your dark kitchen and scowls at his reflection in the glass. He holds the Tupperware under his elbow and picks the lock with ease. After stepping into your kitchen, he quietly slides the door shut behind him. His boots thud stickily as he takes his first steps on the linoleum. Do you ever mop? He holds his switchblade open in the air. He’s headed toward the hall where he expects your bedroom is. He inches through the kitchen--between the counter on his left and the stove on his right, until he gets to your fridge.
The surface of the fridge is peppered with magnets--souvenirs, letters of the alphabet, bottle openers. It's silly. But a piece of paper catches his eye and he stops dead in his tracks. It's pinned to the fridge by a "J," and an "X" and an "O." He blinks and squints, but his eyes don't deceive him. It's his drawing of you, legs spread wide open. His chest flutters looking at his sketch of your cunt hung proudly on your fridge. His dick twitches, and he inhales sharply. His mouth is watering. He dips the tip of his thick pinky between his lips and dribbles a string of saliva on the paper, right between your legs. He tilts his head and admires the way your graphite cunt glistens.
You want him. You really want him. His body relaxes. He closes and pockets his switchblade. He opens the fridge as quietly as possible and puts the casserole on the top shelf, pausing to survey the scant contents. Mostly condiments. Takeout containers. Beer. Expired orange juice. He closes the fridge.
The microwave is hanging down from a cabinet to his left. He steps in front of it and bends his knees enough to push back his hair in the reflection. He stands up again, squares his shoulders, then prowls in silence to your bedroom.
---
The door is open. Of course it is. You want him. His boots are quieter on your carpet. He approaches the foot of your bed but doesn't get closer. You're occupying less than half the bed. You're just as pretty in your sleep. All bundled up. He knew that already. He gets harder, recalling the time he woke you up with his cock inside you. God, you're sexy. How'd he get so lucky that a hot little slut like you wants him so bad?
He goes to the other side of your bed. His side. There’s a chair full of dirty clothes. He sits down on them and takes off his boots. He stands up again and lowers the zipper of his jumpsuit, pressing down on his bulge to get the zipper over it without snagging. Then he peels the sleeves off and brings it down over his ass and meaty thighs. He lets it pool at his feet and steps out of it.
He's left wearing a blue soft wash t-shirt, lighter blue striped boxers, and white socks with holes. He takes those socks off too. He approaches your bed, lifts the covers with care, and sees what you're wearing. You're wearing the shirt–he recognizes its condition. God damn, you really do want him.
Joel gradually lets his weight onto your mattress as he slips under the covers. His heart races and his forehead is damp. His cock is so hard just from being close to you. He lies there perfectly still on his side for a moment, watching your back as you breathe. Then he scoots forward, inch by inch, until his leg hair brushes your bare legs and you jerk in your sleep.
"Shhh. It's just me," he whispers as he wraps his hulking arm over you. He spoons you and lightly presses his hard cock against your ass. You moan in your sleep and push back, then he moans.
You jerk in your sleep again, but this time you don't relax. You startle awake. You gasp and whimper. Your limbs thrash, and his arm tightens around you. You squeal, and his massive hand covers your mouth. He wasn't expecting your feisty side, kitten. He came to give you what you want.
Why don’t you want him anymore?
-----you-----
Pure instinct kicks in when you wake up with someone in your bed. Your heart is pounding, you thrash and kick with all your might trying to get away. He covers your mouth and repeats “It’s me, sweetheart. God damn.” He sounds confused and irritated at your reaction. His voice is familiar, but it takes you a moment to place it, despite thinking about him all the time in waking life. It's like your subconscious hasn't caught up with reality, and can you blame it?
"Would you stop? Damn," he pants, getting more irritated as you continue to struggle and his arm tightens more, compressing your chest. What did he expect breaking into your house and getting into your bed?
You feel his hard dick press against your loose sleep shorts and get butterflies in your core, even as you continue struggling. He backs up for a moment and the pull of his arm forces you onto your back. He pins you with his left forearm on your chest and aggressively yanks down your shorts then kicks them all the way off before getting between your legs. His hard cock lays against your clit, separated only by his boxers, and you're throbbing. Your efforts to free yourself get weaker and weaker until you’re just lying there, staring up at him, your chest getting sore under his arm.
“What are you doing here?” you ask. He doesn’t answer, just breathes heavily.
He’s scowling down at you with a fine mist of perspiration along his hairline. He presses his cock against your mound again. Over a long moment of silence, an electric charge passes between your eyes and his. He slightly tilts his head and looks at your mouth. You reach for the back of his neck and feel the cold sweat under your palm as you pull him down, drawing his face to yours.
Your mouths meet but don't seal, and you find your lips reaching for his, wanting something to hold, something to suck–but he devours you without granting you any bit of control. You whimper as he kisses you hungrily, hard cock throbbing against your aching clit. He kisses you sloppily, biting your lower lip, dragging his tongue across it to the corner where he pauses and presses his teeth into your cheek and grunts with a slow thrust against you. Then he drags his lips and tongue down your jaw as you tilt your chin up.
He latches onto your neck with an "mm" and his hips begin to grind his thick erection against you at a slow rhythm. He grunts and his breath is humid with a moan against your neck before he latches onto it again. You feel the delicate skin bruising under his mouth while your pussy is gushing wet. You tilt your hips and wrap a leg around him. He groans at your slick, throbbing cunt against his cock.
He murmurs into your neck, “God damn, you’re a slut for my cock,” then chuckles. “Aren’t ya, kitten?”
He lifts his pelvis off you to massage your cunt aggressively with his hand. You whine and he gives a low whistle. Then he urgently takes his boxers down and you help him, curling a toe into the waistband once his boxers get down to his thighs. You drag your foot down between his legs to his feet, taking his boxers with you. . He kicks them off the rest of the way. Before he lays his hips back into you, you reach for his balls, longing to feel the heft of them. It sends a bolt of desire through you. Fuck.
"What's wrong with you?" You ask, but you're really asking yourself. You’re asking yourself why you've got this sicko in your bed, someone unhinged enough to break into your house not once but twice and all you want is his cock.
"Me?" He asks. "the fuck is wrong with you?" He wraps a hand around your throat. “Playin’ games with me,” he growls bitterly. “Ya want it, ya don't, ya want it–” you cough under his grip as he reads your eyes, then he whispers, "want it" with a small nod, and takes his hand away.
He notches his tip at your entrance then breathes, "don't ya?--uggghh" As he shoves into you. “Want it, you’ll get it,” he pants as his cock parts your walls. His cock spreads you wide open as he gives you his full length, and you gasp as he bottoms out. He withdraws a few inches and hangs his head to watch you swallow him back up.
"God damn," he murmurs. "Forgot how tight ya were before." Your clit twitches at the thought of the wrench.
Then his eyes come to your chest and the ripped shirt he gave you. He moans at the sight of your nipple poking through one of the slashes and he covers it with his mouth as he fucks you. His wide tongue drags under your nipple and wets the curled edges of the slash in the shirt before his lips seal around your nipple. He brings his hips back and pushes into you again, sucking and moaning into your tit. Your eyes fixate on his triceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves and that’s the first time it hits you that he was already in sleepwear. He undressed and got in bed with you. God, he’s weird. And you. You're. . . You don't know, but your hands are gliding on their own over his muscular back, feeling him flex as he pounds you.
You find your fingers curling under the bottom hem of his shirt and he reaches one hand behind his back to help you remove it. You can't see much, but when the angle shifts, the moonlight catches enough to tell you his body has really been through it. When his head dips to your neck again you watch his hulking back muscles and see lines whiter than his skin. At least a dozen, overlapping lashes. You run your hand over it and the slight change in texture makes you wince with the confirmation. No telling how old they are.
On his front, there’s a short straight line near his shoulder and a longer, thinner one on his side, curving around near his v muscle. Your thumb drifts to that one. Joel shivers at the touch, then slams his hips into you harder. You quickly abandon it, sliding your hand up his side, then to his pec. A wicked smile spreads across half his face as your hand runs across his chest. "Y'ain't scared, are ya?" He asks, breathing heavily with his cock dragging heavily in your dripping wet cunt.
“No.” You thumb his nipple.
He lowers himself and lets the weight of his middle onto you with a sigh, still railing his length into you. You wrap both legs around him, and he breathes "yeah, mmmgg baby, yeah" as he fucks you deeper.
Your nipples go fully erect. "Fuck," he breathes when he feels them. He grinds against your clit as he fucks you, and you feel a climax looming. The thought crosses your mind whether he's going to kill you one of these days and your chest erupts in goosebumps. Your face feels cold.
As though reading your mind, he says, “don’t whore around on me” He reads your eyes then adds, "n' you'll be fine," with a small nod, a brief smile, and harsh thrust.
You can't help but crack a smile at the absurdity of it. The implied monogamy–on your side, at least. When he registers your amusement, his smile fades into a scowl and his eyes turn black. He grabs your jaw, squeezes it open, and spits in your mouth. He grabs your hand off his chest and pins both your wrists harshly above you, holding them there with one massive hand as he fucks you harder, angrier. He looks down where your bodies meet, and he watches you take his cock again, breathing heavily, sighing and moaning.
Eventually his sour mood subsides, replaced by renewed marvel at your body. "Sure can take a dick." Your hips lift into him, seeking more pressure for your clit, near the edge. "Didn't bring my wrench." He glances around your bedroom. You moan at the thought of him shoving something inside you. Your walls twitch, and the deep groan that leaves his mouth is too much. You grab his ass and pull him deeper using your hands and your legs.
"Fuck, Joel," you breathe, and a new softness spreads across his face.
His mouth falls open and he whispers, "yeah, sweetheart." You bite your lip and groan as a huge orgasm seizes you. "Yeah," he whispers and his eyes map your face as your walls clench around him. "oh fuck," he pants as you cum on his cock. "Fuck," he breathes again, "fuckin love this cunt," he looks you in the eye. "Ohhhh," he groans and begins to pulse inside you. He lowers his face to your neck again and you keep cumming, your body jerking into his. "Yeah, fuck," he manages into your neck as his balls empty into you. "Mmmmm" he thrusts slowly one more time like he can hardly stand the pleasure.
He pushes himself back up to look at you and shudders as you squeeze him with an aftershock.
"'s'okay," he whispers and brushes your temple with his thumb. “ruin ya in the mornin'” In the morning? He wants to stay over? "God you're hot," he chuckles, cock still inside you. After a long moment of silence, he slides his cock out of you and you wince at the void. He lays on his stomach and drapes his arm over you. Your heart races and you can only hope he doesn’t feel it. You don’t want him in your bed right now. He's a novelty and he has to stay that way. Yeah it was fun, it’s been fun. It’s fun. You have his stupid drawing on your fridge, like a wild memory, a souvenir. But this. . . this is unsettling.
You can't get attached to this sicko. But you know better than to try to make him leave. He gets that look in his eye sometimes, and you just don’t know. You take deep breaths and try to plot how you’ll get out of this in the morning. You can say you have to work. Yeah, you’ll say you have to work. Eventually, you drift off under the weight of his arm.
------
Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Love you guys.
@toxicfics for notifications.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfic#dark!joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#slasher!joel ☠️#slasher!joel#toxicanonymity ☠️#slasher!joel miller#serial killer!joel miller#tw dubcon#cw dubcon#dark!joel#mama slasher
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I love that a practically half-defrosted, feverish 60 years old man can emerge from a coma purely because his baby girl is under threat, and just... follow up with whatever deranged shit that was...
That’s hot.
#tlou#the last of us#joel miller#can you imaging losing the apocalypse to a 60 year old half dead freshly defrosted man#like man#you survived the fungi and the not so fun guys just to lose it to a rabid senior citizen that moves like a serial killer version of batman?!#pedro pascal#hot shit#this show and game is and was something
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Hunted
SerialKiller!Joel x F!Reader (8.2k)
DARKAU! POV will switch between Joel and Reader. This is dark compared to anything I’ve ever written before. I am a spooky girlie at heart and I wanted to give this idea some legs. If it’s not your thing, that’s okay. Spooky Halloween everyone!
Summary: This Ken is a Ski Instructor. This Ken is a Veterinarian. Well, this Joel is a Serial Killer. The canon Joel is actually kind of a serial killer too, if you think about it. But this version is No-Outbreak, 56-years old, and a Violent, Deranged, Serial Killing Loner. When a new victim practically falls in his lap, he doesn’t take the time to see that she could be his undoing.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI. This is a little dark (for me). Murder, Dead Bodies, Sex, Kidnapping, Bondage, DubCon (they want it but they’re tied to a chair), creampie, blood, violence, semen, crime scenes.
A/N: This is: creepy plot with porn at the end. It’s my first posted tumblr story. Spooky Season is upon us!! Please be nice 💜
He’s been enjoying the silence of the cabin in the woods all afternoon. The only sounds surrounding him have been the soft bird songs and din of cicadas drifting through the open window from the outside, and the rustling of his own body moving about the small rooms inside.
The sound catches him so off guard, that at first he looks around the inside of the cabin, trying to figure out where the hum could be emanating from. The cabin is not hooked up to electric, so what could be making that sound? Then he realizes it's coming from outside. He looks out the windows and sees a figure hunched in the bushes, a stone’s throw away from his front door.
He steps to the front door and quietly opens it, watching her at the wood’s edge. It’s definitely a woman, he can tell by the double braids winding down the back of her head, ending in pigtails. She is wearing dark wash blue jeans, a green jacket, and has on a rust-colored backpack. He can hear her humming even clearer now, the melody traversing the short distance to his ears.
He watches as she stays hunched over, reaching into the bushes and rustling the leaves. Nearly a minute passes before she finally stands, wiping her hands off on her thighs. He notices a small wooden bowl at her feet, stuffed full with berries. She is sucking on her fingertips, stained a light purple, when she turns and meets his eyes.
“Oh!,” she says, startled by his presence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone was in this ol’ thing.”
She gestures towards the cabin. She has a point. Even at first glance, the woods surrounding the cabin appear to be putting forth their best effort to reclaim it. The roof is covered in fallen leaves, moss and lichen cling to every surface, and the front steps - made of flattop logs - are sinking down, seeming to retreat back into the forest floor. And what he knows that she doesn't - yet? - is that the musty smell of the forest has permeated every square inch of the old log cabin’s interior, and everything inside of it.
He puts on his warmest smile, softening the way his eyes are squinted, and blinks slowly. “Yeah, she’s not much but she keeps me honest,” he says, and he notices the way her body relaxes at his gentle, comforting tone.
“I’m guessin’ I’ve wandered too far. Sorry, I didn’t notice any signs posted.” The gentle lilt of her southern accent hits his ears like a sweet melody.
“Yeah, state land ends at the treeline at the bottom ‘a that hill,” he gestures to the distance, her gaze following where he points. “But I don’t shoot or bite or nothin’, so don’t worry about steppin’ on my property,” he chuckles. He can see her continuing to relax under his welcoming reception.
“I appreciate that. I’ve got one ‘a those little vans in the clearing down there, ‘n I expected more people to be around if I’m being honest.”
He notices she’s said I, not we.
“It’s gettin’ the end of camping season, so there’s fewer ‘n fewer out here, I think,” he waves his hand, hoping to convey how little he even notices the campers on the adjacent land.
“Well I’m sorry about stealin’ your berries. You want ‘em?” and she takes a few steps forward, closing the gap between them, holding the small bowl in her outstretched arms.
The pigtails make her look young. So does the innocence in her eyes, which are partially hidden behind her thick-framed glasses. She stops short of the steps, still about six feet away now, still holding out the bowl.
“No, ‘course not,” he gives her a sideways grin. “Those were gonna get eaten by birds before they got eaten by me. You enjoy ‘em little bird.” His guts twist at the smile that breaks out on her face. The way she looks down, almost bashful.
She turns to walk away and then stops, turning back to look at him. He watches her as she gives the outside of the deteriorating cabin another once-over, and then looks him up and down. “Can I ask you somethin’?” and before he can even respond, she continues. “Is it safe around here?”
His stomach clenches. He gently furrows his brows, “yeah, sure it is, why?”
“I’ve heard a couple things recently about people going missin’. Hikers and campers near here,” she gestures in a circular motion with her finger. “You heard anything about that?”
She is worried. He can tell because she looks worried. God, every emotion she has is playing across her face right now. He can read her like a book. She is so vulnerable. She’s a young woman camping all alone in the woods and she is worried. She should be.
“I haven’t heard anything myself, no. But that happens every year. People underestimate it.”
“Underestimate what?” she interjects, her doe eyes scanning his face.
“Nature,” he replies, and now he gestures around with his finger.
He gives her another soft smile and blinks his eyes slowly. She lets a genuine grin break through her worried features and she nods, taking in his response.
“I wouldn’t worry too much, there’s no one out here to cause ya trouble,” he offers, hoping she notes that he is clearly not a danger. “Besides, if anything happens, you can come back here.”
This time her smile falters a bit. He’s pushed too far. She’s worried. She’s alone. She’s not looking to seek refuge in a stranger’s cabin. He backtracks.
“I’m sure the worst thing that’s gonna happen is ya find a spider in your van,” he continues, “But please don’t come back here for that!”
He gives a low chuckle and is glad to see she does the same, good humor returning to her now relaxing face. She gestures to the bowl of berries and flashes a toothy-smile as a thanks, before turning to retreat down the hill. He hears her call out a goodbye after she turns and he calls one back in response.
He goes back inside and finishes watching her leave until the trees hide her departing figure. He has about seven more hours until dark fully takes hold. Seven more hours until he can seek her out in the clearing with the safe knowledge of remaining undetected. Plenty of time for him to finish prepping the cabin and get himself some dinner.
*****
He thinks he might be getting too old for this. His lower back is aching, his thighs are on fire, and he’s had a stabbing pain in his neck for the last twenty minutes; all due to the fact that he has been hunched against this tree for over an hour. Usually he wouldn’t still be here. He’d have made some observations, taken some mental notes, and planned for additional reconnaissance later on.
But he doesn’t know how long you’re going to be here. You haven’t unpacked anything - not even a folding chair - to indicate that your campsite setup will be anything more than a one-night stay. If you’re gone tomorrow and he has missed his opportunity, he’ll regret leaving now. He has spent the last eight hours thinking about nothing but you.
He’s thought about the way your delicate lips wrapped around your fingertips and the gentle melody you hummed before you knew he was there. He has thought about the kind way you offered him the berries you picked and the way your jeans hugged your ass as you sauntered away. What would your eyes look like if he took your glasses off, if he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, if he wrapped his big hands around your delicate throat?
No, he has to do it tonight. He can’t wait any longer.
Your van is all black. Besides the windshield, there are windows only at the two front seats and the rear double doors. However, you have all the windows covered with blackout panels. Smart. You’re a young woman camping alone, keeping your privacy is a smart thing to do. And keeping peeping eyes out of your space is probably important to you.
You’ve been playing music inside the entire time, though he doesn’t recognize any of the songs. Sometimes he thinks he can hear you humming along. He imagines you’re eating the berries you picked from the bushes outside his cabin. Maybe you’ve changed into more comfortable clothing, maybe you’re sitting on your bed, maybe you’re reading a book. Maybe you’re even thinking about him. He tried not to make an impression earlier but part of him hopes he did.
He really can’t wait any longer.
He moves slowly, not just because his body is quite literally creaking, but because he has to keep his head on a swivel and continue to make sure there are no eyes watching him. He makes his way towards the van, choosing his steps carefully. His head moves back and forth, checking in front of and behind him, watching for any movement. The night is so quiet all he hears is the gentle wind rustling the tall grass and the constant cricket song.
He finally reaches the side door of the van. The music inside is louder from here but he still doesn’t recognize the song. He pats his pockets, obsessively triple-checking he has the supplies he’ll need. He pulls a small tool out of his shirt pocket and sticks it in the door lock. He feels rather than hears the soft click that he knows means he now has full access to you.
He puts his hand on the door handle and inhales a breath, holding it with full lungs. He closes his eyes and imagines what he’ll see when he opens the door, warm light spilling onto him from the inside. What will you be wearing? Will you look excited to see him? Frightened? Will you scream?
“Hey there little bird,” he says quietly as he throws the door open. Confusion falls across his face. He looks down onto the floor of the van, where a single bluetooth speaker sits, still playing music. The single overhead light from the van’s interior barely illuminates the inside, but it doesn’t matter, since there isn’t anything to see.
The inside of the van isn’t a camper. It’s an empty utility van. There are no seats and no wall panels. In fact, the entire inside of the van is covered in thick plastic sheeting, which vibrates a strange buzz from the reverberation of the bluetooth speaker.
He has barely taken it all in when he feels a pinch in his neck. He grabs at it with his hand but there is nothing there and before he can react further, everything goes black.
*****
You hear a couple deep breaths and then some grunting. Maybe this means he’s finally waking up. You walk around in front of where he sits bound naked to a chair, and bend over, hands on your knees, face close to his, cooing gently for him to wake up sleepyhead.
Standing up straight, you watch as he slowly opens his eyes, bit by bit, working to focus. He is blinking long, slow blinks, and his eyes raise to your face. His pupils start going big and then small, his eyes start rapidly blinking as his swirling thoughts begin to come back to him.
Then you see it - recognition.
He crinkles his brows, the crease between them going so deep. His mouth begins to form a question but only a short, dry croak comes out. You can’t help yourself, you laugh at him. A quiet, melodic chuckle.
“Sorry, I think I gave you too much back there,” with two fingers you brush some hair off his forehead that has fallen forward. “I thought you were fatter under all these clothes, but you’re doing alright for yerself there.”
His eyes fall to your shirt - well, his shirt - and then to his own lap. He’s just realizing he’s naked. Then his eyes trail back up your body as he takes in the fact that you’re wearing all of the clothes you stripped off him.
His mouth opens again but you don’t let him even try to speak this time. You grab his face and his eyes snap to meet yours. “Remember when I asked if you knew anything about those campers and hikers goin’ missing?” You drop your hand from his face and step to the side to reveal a folding table set up behind you. Along the table you have laid an array of different souvenirs he had plucked from his victims.
“You told me you didn’t know anything,” you continue, as you watch his eyes grow larger as they rake across the table, taking in the items he had hidden away in his cabin. “But honey, I think you know a lot more than you said you did.”
His eyes slowly come back to yours and you can’t hide the smile you now have plastered across your face. “I don’t-” he starts. You quickly shove your finger overtop his mouth in a shush motion.
“Don’t even try that honey, we’re way past denial now. I already found all yer little trophies.”
Now he flexes in the chair. Your finger drags down his neck and across his shoulder as you walk around the chair, circling him. You watch him continue to strain, testing the ropes, checking to see for himself if you knew what you were doing when you tied him to the chair. You did.
“So what is this?” he mutters, “One a’ them yer friend? Your brother or sister or somethin’?” He continues to push against the unforgiving ropes. “This some kinda revenge plot you got brewin’?”
You can’t help it, you laugh again. “Oh honey, is that what you think?” You place your finger at the top of his forehead and slowly run it down his face, “You think you’ve hurt me?” over his nose, “Think I’m your victim?” over his lips, stopping on his chin. You lean in and ghost your lips right over his. “I’m not your victim honey,” you whisper against his lips, “you’re mine,” pressing into him with a kiss.
You stand up and take a step back. “I know what you are. I know exactly what you are because I’m the same. Well, almost the same,” and you laugh again, breaking eye contact. “When I was young, my adoptive father recognized it in me n’ taught me how to direct it. He called it my dark passenger and I-”
“Y-yer what?” he interrupts.
“What?” You’re back to looking him in his eyes.
“Did you say your dark passenger?” He looks past the folding table strewn with his trophies and sees the ‘camper van’ parked with the side door still wide open, inside still covered with plastic sheeting. “Dark passen- isn’t that from that fuckin’ TV show? Dexter?”
“What the fu-,” you slap your arms against your thighs in frustration. “Don’t tell me you get fuckin’ Showtime in that piece a shit cabin. There wasn’t even a fuckin’ TV in that shithole.”
“Well I don’t fuckin’ live there sweetheart that’s just where I-” he stops short but just rolls his eyes at you. Then he gives you a look like he’s embarrassed for you.
“Oh well excuse me for wantin’ to add a little flair to this situation!” you yell out to the ceiling. “I guess we can’t have any fuckin’ fun around here.”
“So what’re you gonna do now Dex, chop me up and take me out to the ocean?” a cocky fucking grin settles on his face..
“Jesus Christ what’d you watch the whole fuckin’ series?” You look down at his smug face. He thinks he has the upper hand again. This motherfucker. Naked. Tied to a chair. Still thinks he’s smarter than you.
“You know how much fuckin’ work it’d be to chop your fat ass up?” and you watch his grin get wiped off his face. “Think I’m gonna take the time to dismember you? You? I could leave you just like this in a shallow ditch ‘n not one person would even miss you honey.”
“Then whatcha’ fuckin’ waitin’ for, huh?” He snarls, his smugness gone. “Get it over with, let’s go.”
You walk behind him and grab a second chair, dragging it noisily across the floor until it’s parallel to his own chair but facing the other way. You plop down in the chair and lean closer to him.
“I really don’t know how you’re still not gettin’ it,” you say quietly. You drag your finger along the ropes across the front of his chest as he lowers his chin to watch you. “But you are not in charge here.” He lifts his head and his hard eyes meet yours.
“Now… I’m gonna ask you some questions and you’re gonna answer me honestly.”
“And why would I fuckin’ do that?” he says calmly, quietly.
“Cuz otherwise I’m gonna call 9-1-1 right now. When they get here they’ll see I’ve done all their work for ‘em.” you hitch your thumb back to point it towards the table behind you. He sighs a deep breath and - growls? - under his breath.
You point to the table again and ask, “How do you choose your victims?” He shakes his head, tries to shift in his chair but the ropes are tied too tight to allow for much movement. You really do know what you’re doing. He still doesn’t seem to believe it, flexing his arms and chest against the ropes yet again.
“I don’t.” You give him a beat to add more to the sentence but he just stares at you with black eyes, mouth closed and tight-lipped.
“You’re gonna have to do a little better n’ that honey,” you gently coo. He suppresses another growl. You can tell that your little nickname for him is finally starting to grate on his nerves.
“That’s my answer,” he grumbles, refusing to elaborate, staring ahead at the folding table.
“Okay hun, no problem,” you reply as you lean forward and pull a cell phone out of your back pocket. You punch in the lock code and begin to dial. You type in 9 and you see him watching you out of the corner of your eye. You quickly type in the 1 and then hover your finger over the button, ready to repeat the motion. You pause and look up, meeting his eyes.
“You wanna call my bluff or you wanna start talkin’?” and then you smile as you hear jesus fuckin’ christ muttered under his breath and watch him spend some more time straining against the ropes. “Get it over with, let’s go,” you repeat his words back to him in a bad impression of his gruff voice. His scowl deepens.
“I don’t,” he repeats. “I don’t choose ‘em.” He sighs, and you open your mouth to protest that he’s still holding back but before you can speak he continues, “I just take what’s there.”
“You don’t have a type?”
“You seem to know everythin’, look at ‘em,” he nods towards the table where you have placed cut out photos from the missing posters next to the trinkets you found in his cabin. “Does it look like I have a type?” You remember the photos of men and women from all backgrounds on that table.
“So you just take whatever… whoever you can get?”
“Easier that way. Don’t have to go findin’ something specific.” He’s not making eye contact anymore, even though you have leaned in so far your faces are just inches apart. “Less suspicious that way too. Looks less like one person is pickin’ ‘em all off.” He shrugs, then quiets.
You lean back in your chair now, thinking over what he’s said. He’s been doing this for years. You could connect some of his souvenirs to known missing people but he had more items stuffed in his floorboards than you had pictures. So who knows how high his number really is.
“Is that all of ‘em?” nodding your head back towards the table again. His head is still down, seemingly very interested in a freckle on his left thigh. But you see a smile tug at one side of his mouth. He tries to hide it before you can see but it’s too late.
“Yeah,” he lies, unconvincingly. He doesn’t see you roll your eyes. God he’s shit at lying.
You raise the phone up and wave it in front of his face, showing the 9-1 still dialed in. “Is that your final answer, honey?” He lets out a big sigh, like you’ve spoiled his fun. That’s right, we can’t have any fun around here, can we?
“Not exactly,” he grumbles. “Camping season is short ‘round here. Winter comes on quick. I have somewhere else I go sometimes,” he vaguely adds. He doesn’t elaborate further.
“Do you have sex with ‘em before or after you kill ‘em?” you ask, not even taking time to absorb his previous answer. His head snaps up to yours, his eyes wide.
“What?”
“Do you have se-”
“I don’t fuckin’ do that,” he spits, face contorted in disgust.
“Yeahhhh. But that’s what they all say. And, spoiler alert,” your voice goes high and teasing, “they ALL do it.” His face is still tight, mouth curled into a frown.
“Well I fuckin’ don’t,” he looks back down at the freckle on his thigh, continuing to curse under his breath how disgusting you are for asking. “Killin’ doesn’t get me hard,” he snarls.
“Oh honey, I don’t know why you’re goin’ all shy on me now,” you coo, he’s still looking down, shaking his head now. “I’ve been in your little hidey-hole, ya know. It smells like fuckin’ loam ‘n body odor. I took a black light. That place is truly fuckin’ disgusting.” You adjust your glasses on your nose and continue, “I didn’t find a single cleaning product in the whole place. And now you’re gonna act like you’re not in there sprayin’ blood and cum all over the walls?” He doesn’t raise his head but his eyes meet yours under his eyebrows to scowl at you. You lean in till your noses almost touch. “A black light,” you repeat.
“That’s a huntin’ cabin sweetheart, and it wasn’t always mine. So I can’t tell you what yer little black light saw but it wasn’t me doin’ - that - with any ‘a them,” he nods to the table.
Now you consider what he’s said and decide if you believe him or not. He’s a terrible liar, right? Maybe. Or maybe he’s just been playing you this entire time. You don’t give a shit that he’s a murderer. Anyone would murder under the right circumstances. But sexual assault? That’s a line you’d never cross. In fact, most of the men you’ve killed have been guilty of it themselves. Pigs, all of them, who’d stick their dicks anywhere for a moment of pleasure. They deserved what they got. Is this guy one of them?
“Well like I said, that’s what they all say, n-”
He interrupts, muttering jesus fuckin’ christ again, and more curses follow in whispers. “Is there fuckin’ evidence that I did any ‘a that? Any… sexual assault?” he spits the last two words out with particular venom, speaking the term for the first time.
“You’re askin’ if there’s any evidence on the months-old decomposing body parts found half-eaten in the woods?” You poke the freckle on his thigh he’s been seemingly obsessed with. “Surprisingly, no, there was not any evidence of sexual assault found.”
“Well then, there ya go,” he grunts out, as if that settles it. He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. You can’t tell if it’s from shame, discomfort, or disgust. He’s doing a good job pretending it’s disgust. Is he pretending?
You try to ask another question but he is done talking. He won’t look up from his lap now. You even hold up the cell phone again but he doesn’t flinch. He knows by now you’re not going to dial the police. He’s shut down. So you get up and pull your chair away, disappearing behind him for a moment.
When you come back in front of him you sit on his lap, facing him, straddling his legs with yours. He looks up at you with cautious eyes and opens his mouth to say something - but say what you’re not sure. When he feels the sharp poke just under his ribs he stops short. He looks down and sees the 5” knife you have pressed into the soft spot where his sternum ends.
“I guess it’s time then, honey,” you hum. The hand not holding the knife traces the side of his face. He looks almost sad for one singular moment before his eyes turn hard and all the muscles in his face pull tight.
“If ya expect me to beg, you’re wastin’ yer time.” His pupils are blown wide. “Just do it.”
“How about you stop bein’ so bossy on our first date?” You lean in and kiss him on the nose, then the right cheek, then the left cheek. “Well….. Our last date,” and you kiss him on the mouth.
You press your lips hard into his and wait. When he doesn’t relent you take your free hand and squeeze his cheeks, hard, forcing his mouth open. Risking him biting your tongue, you push it into his mouth. Your gamble pays off when he doesn’t bite but instead pushes his tongue back and forth along the length of yours.
You wrap your free arm around his shoulders, bracing yourself and grinding your body down into his naked lap. You press your chest into his as your hand moves to the back of his head and fists in his wild curls. You continue kissing him, tongues wrapping around each other, lips moving sloppily across each other’s mouths.
You move your wet kisses down his jaw, mouthing at the patches in his graying, scruffy beard. You grab a handful of his hair and squeeze your fist, tugging gently at the roots. He grits his teeth and groans, attempting to buck his hips up.
Of course he can’t move against the restraints, but you grind down again, and you can finally feel that he’s gotten hard through the baggy jeans you’re still wearing. You let a low chuckle slip out.
“I thought killin’ didn’t get you hard,” you smile against his mouth.
“Who am I killin’?” he mutters, still simmering with anger at the topic.
Oh yeah, you giggle, your breath ghosting across his neck. “I guess I’m the one who it’s gettin’ hard,” you whisper.
You can’t help it. The anticipation of the kill is thrumming through your veins. It’s always like this, the energy, the electricity. Killing makes you feel more alive. You usually aren’t making out with them though. Never, in fact. This time feels different. You’re not sure why.
You lick a stripe up his neck, rolling your hips over his hardened length, and now he bites, nipping gently at your jaw. You squirm and the knife pokes harder into his abdomen. He inhales a sharp breath through his nose at the contact. You silence any additional protest by kissing him hard on the mouth again.
You pull back, face flushed and panting. He is looking at you with wild eyes and puffy lips, his hair pulled at strange angles from your hands running through it. Do you want to fuck this guy? You just brought him here to kill him but now you think you want to fuck him. This is a morally gray area. He’s bound to a chair and you have a knife at his ribs. Can he consent?
“Why’d ya stop?” he huffs out, bringing your attention back to him. “Are we doin’ this or what?”
“It feels kinda fucked up,” you say meekly, the first time he’s seeing any hesitation from you. You look down, twirling the knife against the rope crossing his chest. “It’s not gonna change my mind ‘bout what happens here ya know.”
“I didn’t say it would,” he says quietly, and you look back into his eyes. His eyes are dark, like fresh brewed coffee. They’d be kinda nice if they weren’t about to be on a dead guy.
“You…. you want this?”
“Why not?” he immediately answers.
“Because I’m gonna kill you after,” and even though you’re sure he doesn’t need the reminder, you poke him lightly in the ribs with the knife again, leaving a little red dot from the tip. He doesn’t react this time. He just lets a small smile ghost across his face and his eyes soften as they land on yours.
“What a way to go.”
It’s all you need to hear. You get up and uncinch the belt that is the only thing holding his pants up around your waist. As soon as it’s loosened, the pants fall to the floor, the belt buckle tinkling as it hits the concrete. You’re not wearing any underwear but the view of your cunt is obstructed by the long flannel shirt draped over you.
You take the knife and stick it in the edge of the shirt about breast-high, just above where you have the first button done up. You slowly drag the knife down the placket, cutting each button off easily with the very sharp blade. The buttons clatter to the floor one by one and when you’ve reached the last one, the shirt opens up a bit.
It’s just enough to see the valley between your breasts, a line of your soft stomach, the patch of hair on your mound, and your pink folds peeking out between your legs. You watch him looking you up and down, devouring the sight of you. His brown eyes now black with hunger. Now you can finally take the time to admire his body.
Yes you had stripped him naked and then tied him to the chair. The whole process had taken nearly thirty minutes. Your hands had been all over him, this grown man you had to maneuver while he was unconscious. But that wasn’t about sex. That was just a body. And you’ve had your hands on plenty of bodies. It’s not sexual.
But now…. now you can really admire him. He has a long and muscular neck, a broad chest, and freckle-dotted shoulders with strong muscles that continue down his thick arms. He isn’t very hairy but he does have soft arm hair, a little chest hair, and a trail of hair that starts beneath his belly button and continues down to a large patch around his cock.
His cock. Now you can appreciate what you were feeling on his lap. Why does it look so good? Cocks shouldn’t look this good. It’s fully hard, leaking precum and leaning against his stomach, his balls pulled tight at the bottom. You’re surprised to notice his pubic hair isn’t growing wild, it looks as if it was trimmed but has grown out a bit. His cock is both a little larger and a little thicker than what you know to be average. It’s not the biggest you’ve ever seen but that’s alright. In this context you aren’t looking for something that’s going to destroy you. You need to be able to walk later, you’ll have a body to dispose of.
You look back at his face and his eyes are meeting yours. You wonder if he can see the same hunger in your eyes that you saw in his. He’s smiling again but this time it’s not the same cocky grin as before, this one is genuine and filled with excitement. Your heart is pounding. You feel intoxicated. Is this the thrill of the kill or the sex?
Double ropes make an X across his chest, fastening his torso tight to the back of the chair. His arms and wrists are also bound to the back of the chair, causing his arms to be extended stiff at his sides, hands dangling towards the ground. Another X of the double rope crosses his thighs, attaching him to the seat of the chair, and his ankles are tied to the chair’s front legs.
You consider for one brief moment if untying any part of him would increase your enjoyment but quickly decide that’s not a good idea. Even if you might want his hands on your body, if you find them on your throat, it could all get very messy very quickly.
You give your shoulders a slight shrug and his flannel begins to fall off your shoulders, brushing down your arms as it falls to the ground. Now you stand before him completely bare. You don’t miss the fuuuck he silently mouths. Jesus christ what is this guy doing to you? You swear you just felt your clit twitch.
It is now obvious more than ever the effect he’s having on you, as your unobstructed cunt is so wet that the cool air hitting your thighs makes you realize you are a fucking sopping mess down there. Not wanting to wait any longer, you straddle his thighs again. This time you don’t put your legs on either side but rather rest your legs on top of his. Your feet rest inside of his thighs right under his balls and your ankles and shins lay on top of his thighs. This position is you going give you the best leverage to raise and lower yourself, since you know he can’t help with driving his cock into you.
You can see his arms straining against the ropes. By now he should have learned that they’re too tight for him to move but you think this might just be out of habit. He wants to touch your body, you can tell by the way he moves his head forward - the only thing he can freely move forward - and laps his tongue anywhere he can reach.
You grab his face with one hand and crash your mouth onto his, a mess of teeth and lips and tongues. With your other hand, which is still holding the knife, you carefully use two fingers to tilt his cockhead directly under you and you slowly sink down on it.
You both let out wanton moans into each other’s mouths at the sensation. You continue to press down until he’s seated all the way inside you, and then you pause to let your body adjust. He feels bigger than he looked. Maybe it’s been a while since you’ve been with anyone but this feels borderline painful. You don’t move up and down but rock forward and backwards ever so slightly, giving yourself some more time. He groans a little bit, maybe impatient but you don’t care, and you just smile against his mouth.
You feel your own wetness dripping out of you, down around him, and you feel like you’re ready to go. Pulling your face back from his, you look in each other’s eyes, almost tenderly. You put both hands on top of his shoulders, careful to have a good grip on the knife but not have it too close to his skin. You don’t want to be the one to do anything prematurely in this situation.
You start slowly at first, ignoring the quiet groans coming from him. He’s not whining but he doesn’t sound or look pleased with the pace you’ve set if the pained look on his face is any indication. You continue moving but grab his face to ask you good? The pained look immediately disappears from his face as his eyes snap open. He grunts and mutters a quiet it’s been awhile before he closes his eyes again, trying to focus.
“Don’t you end this early on me,” you warn. It’s a little funny to you when you realize that his punishment for doing that would be death. It shouldn’t be funny but it is. Probably because you’re fucked in the head. He barely reacts and just mutters I won’t between clenched teeth.
Your pace starts to pick up and you alternate between quite literally bouncing up and down on his cock, and grinding forwards and backwards on it. Each time you switch movements he lets out a strangled groan, clenching his eyes tighter. You can feel your orgasm start to build as a little ball of energy deep in your torso.
You picture what it would be like if he could put his hands on you. You take your own hands off his shoulders and run them up and down your thighs, careful to not let the blade hit either of your bodies. You run them across your stomach and up your ribcage, grabbing your breasts, the cold blade of the knife pressed against one of them. You cry out at the sensation and notice he has opened his eyes now and is watching you intently.
You throw your head back, squeezing your breasts, and bring two fingers to pinch each nipple until they’re over-sensitive and stinging. You look back down and watch his face, inches from your breasts, mesmerized. Without warning you shove one of them right into his mouth and he greedily accepts it, tonguing and biting your nipple.
You continue to move on his lap, driving his cock in and out, up and down, filling you up, hitting all the right spots inside of you. Your bodies are sliding against each other, lubricated by the sheen of sweat covering them. The sounds of your skin slapping echoes off the walls. The slurping noises of his mouth are turning you on even more. You can feel your orgasm now just below the surface. You know you’re close.
“I’m gonna come honey,” you moan. Jesus fuckin’ christ you hear him grunt beneath you, mouth still full of your breast.
You push yourself closer to him, pressed up against his chest, his mouth popping off your nipple. You wrap both arms around his neck and pull him tight, rutting hard and deep on his lap. It’s just there, so close. Then he latches his mouth onto your neck just below your jaw, and he sucks.
A white-hot release immediately hits your body, spreading from the core out. It hits you so hard that you actually scream. Your movements stutter and slow as you work through your orgasm, feeling your pussy contracting on his cock.
Seconds later you hear him against your neck, a long and drawn-out moan, as you feel him releasing repeatedly inside of you. You continue gentle rocking motions against him until you feel his cock still. His mouth is still against your neck, breathing heavy breaths in between curses of jesus fuckin’ christ, and holy shit.
You push yourself up off him using the leverage from your shins on his thighs just enough for him to slip out of you, your combined release dripping out onto his lap. You lay your head down on one of his shoulders, gently kissing his neck. At the other shoulder, your arm rests with the knife dragging up and down along where his carotid artery lies.
You sit like that for a while, both of you catching your breaths, getting your bearings back. You are vaguely aware of the mess on his lap you’ll have to clean up later. It’ll have to wait. You think that orgasm made you dizzy. You’re pretty sure your legs will be jell-o for a bit. You haven’t felt like this in a long time. Fucked out and cockdrunk.
He is the first to speak.
“Can I ask you a question?” he says tentatively, “before ya…. ya know.”
“You have a question for me?” you scoff, “I’m flattered,” which is true, even considering what you’ve just done.
“Were ya serious about doin’ this before? The killin’ part?”
“Well yeah, what makes ya think I wasn’t serious?” you lift your head to look him in the eyes just in time to see him roll his.
“Probably the part where ya pretended to be Dexter-” he starts.
“Oh my god I can’t wait till you stop breathin’ so I don’t have to hear about that again. I was just trying to- ya know what? Nevermind,” and you push the blade forward into his neck a little. It’s hard enough to pierce the skin. It draws a couple drops of blood but you’re mostly just teasing him, since you have no desire to clean five liters of blood off the floor of this rented garage. But you can’t help the thrill that shoots into your stomach at the way he clenches in fear.
His body relaxes after a few seconds when he realizes you haven’t pushed the knife in any further. He had clenched his eyes shut, not letting you see the panic in them. Now they flutter open and meet yours, barely able to focus, your faces are so close together.
“My question was somethin’ else,” he mutters, barely audible over the sound of your pounding heartbeat whooshing in your ears. You say nothing, just continue to stare at him wide-eyed, unblinking. “My question was… why. Why do ya do it?”
You are taken aback. Literally and figuratively. You physically pull back from him, resting on your heels back where his knees are. Your hands remain on his shoulders, one still clutching the knife against his neck. Someone is looking for the answer, you think to yourself. It’s almost sweet that he thinks you have it.
“I do it for the same reason you do it.” You scan his face, searching for that smug smile, waiting for deception to play across it, for something. For anything. It doesn’t come. He genuinely doesn’t know. “I do it because it fucking feels good, honey.”
He just keeps your gaze, nodding his head slowly as he takes in your answer. He doesn’t ask anything else or add to your answer. He’s just considering it. You get up off his lap and fold up the knife in your hand, dropping it on the floor on top of the discarded flannel. You walk behind him again and grab the pre-filled syringe you set up. This is the way you like to do things. Clean. Efficient. No stains or smells to deal with later.
You walk up behind him, standing so you are pressed to the back of the chair, his head resting against your bare stomach. You put your hands down on top of his shoulders, the syringe in your dominant hand tapping against his skin. He looks down at it and then tilts his head back to look up at you.
“Why me?” he asks. Not whiny, like most people are. Just a curiosity. Why him? Why did you pick him? Out of everyone in the world, why is it him? It’s almost romantic.
“I thought it’d be fun. I mean, it’s always fun. But I thought it’d be more fun than usual, huntin’ someone like me. Well, almost like me. I’m better at it,” and you tap the syringe against his clavicle a few times, “obviously.”
“Well you weren’t exactly playin’ fair, were ya sweetheart?” he says in an accusing tone.
“How do ya mean?” you ask, your eyes going wide, insulted by the implication. “You knew people would be lookin’ around and askin’ questions, maybe even the police.”
“Yeahhh,” he concedes, “but the police‘re idiots.” He keeps his eyes on you, watching you nod your head in agreement. “I didn’t think I was up against someone like you.” He pauses and then flashes you a cocky grin. “Someone smart.”
“Oh stop, now you’re just tryin’ to flatter me,” and you swat the syringe on his shoulder.
“I’m not,” he says, still smiling.
“Kinda seems like you are, ya ol’ flirt.” and you wink down at him.
“No, what I’m tryin’ ta say is…” and he finally looks away, staring straight ahead before he delivers the next sentence. “I bet you couldn’t do it again.”
“Do what again?” You continue to look down at him but he’s still looking straight forward, not meeting your eyes.
“Catch me.”
Now you’re annoyed. “Honey it really wasn’t that fuckin’ hard the first time. I highly doubt th-”
“But,” he interrupts, “I bet you couldn’t do it again.” His cocky smile is back, head thrown back staring up at you again. “You couldn’t do it now that I know you’re lookin’ fer me.
You push off his shoulders and walk around the front of him. Bending over, you pull his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans laid on the floor. You’re gonna wipe that smug grin off his face once and for all. “Well Joel Miller,” and you read off his home address in Texas, “I really do think I could find you again.”
“Then do it.” His smile is gone. His face is expressionless. He’s just staring at you. “Find me again,” he taunts.
You drop the wallet back to the ground and sit down on his lap, almost considering what he’s saying. You run your hand on the side of his stupid smug little face, syringe still in the other hand. You lean your face to his and gently pepper his face with kisses.
“Honey, I don’t want you sufferin’,” you coo between smooches. “Yer gonna miss me too much if I let you go.”
“How long you think I’d have to suffer?” he counters, “Hmm? How long you think it’d take you?”
“It took me less than a week this time honey. So probably not long,” you continue the kisses down his neck.
“Then come find me,” he growls, stilling your motions. “End my sufferin’.”
You pull back from him. Fuck. The thought of it made you undeniably excited. You were practically vibrating with anticipation and you weren’t even thinking about killing him anymore. This was about a chase. An honest-to-god chase with someone that might be something close to a challenge.
He had a point. You didn’t want to admit that to him, but he didn’t know you were looking for him. He had no idea there was someone like him in the area, whereas you had begun to suspect last summer, and had spent the last year putting pieces together and planning your trip this way.
It did take you less than a week of moving around to different areas of the state land with your van, finding different places to camp, until you ran into him and his filthy little cabin. But you had spent much longer than that reviewing his victims, studying his patterns, and getting yourself into his mindset as best you could.
He has confirmed your suspicions that he moved on after the summer to hunt somewhere else. But where else? Where he lives in Texas? Another off-the-grid cabin? It could be anywhere. It doesn’t matter. You’ll figure it out.
The phone you’ve been threatening him to dial 9-1-1 with is actually his phone. You'd used his fingerprint to gain access while he was out cold and then changed the passcode to something that only you know. You can gather a lot of information on him from his cellphone. That will help and he doesn’t even yet realize you have it.
You already have an upper hand on his little proposition. You’re already outsmarting him.
You press your lips to his one last time and stick the syringe’s small needle into his neck, pressing the plunger halfway down. With open eyes kissing him you see his eyes go wide and then shut. His entire body goes limp under yours, including his lips. His plush lips. You feel his heart still beating strong under your hand so you take the time to indulge, holding his head up and stealing a few more kisses before you have to start cleaning up.
*****
Joel wakes a while later, how long he’s not sure, but the room he’s in looks very different. The van is gone, as is the folding table covered in trophies and photos of his victims, as are you. In fact, very few things remain in the room.
His clothes are folded in a stack on the floor in front of him. Next to them are his wallet and truck keys. Finally, there is a folded note stuck to his leg. It’s pinned to him with your five inch pocket knife having been driven into his thigh.
The restraints around his wrists have been cut so that he can reach forward to take the knife out of his leg. When he does, the note drifts to the floor a few feet away. He ignores the searing pain and blood now streaming from the wound on his leg and manages to work himself free of the rest of the ropes.
He moves to stand up out of the chair and immediately his legs give out, collapsing him unceremoniously onto the floor. He is free of the chair for the first time in - judging by the physical state of him - what has probably been half a day. With shaky hands he reaches out and picks up the paper where it had fallen, unfolding it.
In pretty, looping handwriting it reads: ‘Catch ya later! xoxo’
*****
READ THE NEXT PART HERE (THE CHASE - PART 1)
#joel miller x reader#SerialKiller!Joel x F!Reader#joel miller smut#Serial Killer Joel Miller#joel miller#patti7dc#pedro pascal characters#noxturnalpascal
520 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fear Thy Neighbor
Serial Killer Farmer Joel x librarian!f!reader
Warnings: Dead Dove/dark fic, horror! death, reader & Joel are both killers, animal death (it’s not explicit but more so just implied), p in v (protect your genitalia!!), face slaps,m/m kissing I think that’s it, let me know if I missed something, all mistakes are mine! Not edited or beta’d!
Summary: Its the fall of 1969, it’s been five years since Chesterfield had a string of murders linked to the Scarecrow Killer. New to town, you moved into a little trailer out in the woods near the infamous Farmer Joel and his famous corn maze. . .
A/n: yea yea I know I said farmer Joel was a one shot. Well he wanted y’all to have more of him so enjoy
Nothing but shades of red, orange and yellow as far as you can see stretch on for miles and miles on either side of the road your currently driving down. Time of the Season by the Zombies is flowing out of your car speakers as you hum along, thrumming your thumbs on the steering wheel. It’s 8:25 am and your on your way to the town library where you work. You recently moved to Chesterfield a few months ago after a nasty breakup. Needing to do some soul searching, you went on a drive that lasted hours and just so happened to come across this cute little town. Low on gas and a hungry tummy, you decided to stop at the local diner for some pancakes and couldn’t help but fall in love. Now here you are just a few months later, living in a nice little trailer out in the woods a few miles out of town, working at the library. You got to spend all your time surrounded by books and then went home to peace and quiet. Well mostly quiet. You’ve always had these rather loud thoughts in your head, these urges to hurt. To inflict pain. You never acted on these urges, burying it deep within yourself. But living out in the woods, you were finally able to let these urges win. Nobody is gonna care if a wild squirrel goes missing.
🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪
Eyes popping open as a shiver runs through his body, Joel wakes up freezing. He goes to pull the blanket tighter around himself to fight off the cold. The heat must’ve stopped working at some point in the night judging by the way he can see his breath when he opens his mouth and let’s out a puff of air. Letting out an exhausted sigh, Joel reluctantly gets out of bed and starts to get ready for the day. He’s not very well versed in the mechanics of how to fix a heater so he’s decided to go to the library and see what info he can find about it.
The rumble of his truck engine roars as he pulls into the Chesterfield Library parking lot. Coming to a halt in a spot, he cuts the engine and gets out, slamming the truck door. Standing by his truck, Joel looks around, taking in his environment. He’s not a fan of having to come into town. Ever since he last killed in 1965 he’s been very leery of the townsfolk. Some might call it paranoia even though Joel knows there’s no way for anyone to trace the murders back to him. He is very thorough in his work, yet he can’t help but be suspicious of other people.
Walking through the doors, a burst of heat slapping him in the face. His eyes landing on a pretty little thing sitting behind the front desk, just off to the side. Your beauty stopped him in his tracks, just standing there, unable to take his eyes off of you. Someone clears their throat behind him, causing Joel to blink a few times to break the spell you unknowingly cast on him. He turned his head to see someone trying to get past him, Joel nods at the person as he moves out of the way. Scuffling his feet, he makes his way to the desk your sitting at when he clears his throat. You look up at him with these beautiful wide eyes and the prettiest smile on your lips, Joel almost forgets what he came here for.
“Hi - i um Hello. I am looking for books on how to work on heaters please.” He manages to sputter out, eyes darting every which way refusing to look you in the eye.
Your smile widens, “Hi! Ohmygosh! You’re Farmer Joel right? You have the famous corn maze I’ve been hearing about? Actually I’m pretty sure we’re neighbors! Haha! What a small world!” You ramble, noticing his eyes stop on your face with a look on his face that says he’s either got bad constipation or he absolutely hates people interactions and you won’t shut up, “oh heaters! Yes! Yea we have a whole section in the back on home repairs and such. You should be able to find something. It’s straight back and to your left, I can take you there if you’d like?”
Grunting, he shakes his head no, “uh n- no. I got it. Thanks.” He says in a gruff voice before walking off to the back.
🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪���🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪
Sliding the key into your front door, you can’t wait to get inside and drown yourself in some wine after the day you had. Joel Miller. The Joel Miller came into your library and you spoke to him. Like actual words came out of your mouth and his ears heard them. Why are you like this?? He’s just a man! But he’s so stupidly handsome and hot and oh those salt and pepper curls of his and that patchy beard you wish you felt between your thighs all too often. You knew exactly who he was when he walked in this afternoon. Shortly after moving in, you decided to go exploring around in the woods and came across a barn. You saw the barn before you saw the nice little two story farmhouse off to the side a little ways away. Walking up to the back of the barn, you heard grunting and decided to take a peak into a crack in the wood. That’s when you first saw him. His back was to you as he chopped wood. He had a red flannel on with the sleeves pushed up so his forearms were on display. Sweat dripping down his neck as he pulled the axe back and swung down cutting a thick piece of wood in two. He dropped the axe and turned to the side as he wiped his brow. That’s the very first time you saw him. Lost in a daze you accidentally stepped on a twig, trying to get on your tippy toes to get a better look and he quickly snapped his head in your direction. Holding your breath, the both of you seemed to stop moving entirely. You staring at him and him staring back, even though you knew he couldn’t have actually seen you, you were still terrified he did. That night you couldn’t stop bringing yourself to ecstasy. Orgasm after orgasm, your fingers were all pruned from your juices after you were done.
Snapping back to reality, you fling yourself onto your bed. Looking up at your ceiling, you let out a long, exhausted sigh,
“What the hell is wrong with you? He is a fucking farmer for Christ’s sake. Not fucking John Lennon. Ughhh”
🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪
It’s already a quarter past 4 and Joel still hasn’t managed to fix his heater. He borrowed several books that are now all strewn across his kitchen floor as he tries for the umpteenth time to fix this damn thing. On his knees, bent over, Joel’s cranking a wrench, using all his strength to get this damn bolt off. The wrench slips causing Joel to fall forward. Grabbing the wrench, he throws it across the room, “Fuck!” He yelled before getting up and stomping outside. He is furious! It shouldn’t be this hard to fix a stupid fucking heater! And of course he doesn’t have any more time to waste on it because he has to open up his corn maze. People are gonna start pulling in soon.
The rest of the night isn’t any nicer to the old man either. Had several teenagers come through being rude as hell. Although it’s been awhile, Joel is still so worked up he’s decided he’s gonna grab the last little group of teens going through and kill them to let off some steam. It’s already after 9pm and everyone else is gone. He starts off doing what he usually does, he turns off the outdoor lights before making his way through the corn stalks to grab his first victim.
It was three teen boys. Football players. With loud, obnoxious mouths on them and attitudes that clearly show they’ve never been told no a day in their lives. The first two were pretty easy kills. They had separated from the third boy, apparently to sneak in some alone time with each other. Joel found them making out under the moonlight. He struck them with a pitchfork, it went in one boys head and through the other boys head, getting both of them at once. As he’s dragging their bodies inside his barn, the third boy stumbles upon him. Joel immediately drops them and goes to lunge towards the boy. Joel isn’t young, he can’t move like he used too. But before Joel even makes it out of his barn, the boy suddenly stops as if he hit a wall and then Joel hears a thwack and the kid falls down with a sickening thud. Joel’s eyes go huge when he sees you standing on the other side of the kid holding a 2 x 4 piece of wood. Frozen, all he can do is watch you as you raise the wood above your head and bring it down, Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The kids body laying there, his head resembles a pumpkin that just fell off the roof of a house. Blood and brains everywhere, you had blood splatter covering your face, brain matter covered your clothes, hands were a dark red. After the third bash, you drop the wood, stand up straight and look at Joel with those beautiful wide, doe eyes.
🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪
It was late when you decided to go for a walk. You just so happen to find yourself walking up to Joel’s barn when the lights go out. You heard a faint slick squelching sound. You quickly run to the side of the barn and flatten yourself against the wall. You see a 2 x 4 piece of wood laying on the ground that you decide to pick up in case you need to defend yourself. With your back to the barn you quietly side step until your at the corner of the building. Taking some deep breaths , you finally get yourself it somewhat calmed before you take a peek around the corner. There’s a light on in the barn and that’s the only light source other than the moon. That’s when you see Joel dragging two bodies by the ankles towards the barn.
Oh my god. Joel? The man of your dreams dragging bodies? Does this mean what you think it means? Do the two of you share this little activity in common?
Before you think or say or do anything, some teenager comes running out of the corn maze and comes to an abrupt halt just a body’s length away from Joel. He looks absolutely frightened at what he sees. Joel immediately drops the ankles and raises his hands up in surrender, his brows raising before he lunges towards the kid. The kid takes off heading in your direction. Thinking quick on your feet you pop out of your hiding spot, stunning the young man before you thwack him in the head. His body falls to the side, hitting the cold, hard ground with a heavy thud. Unable to stop yourself, you raise the board above your head and bring it down hard on the kids head repeatedly. The thrill of decimating his head is just, ugh! The best fucking high of your life! The way his head just smooshes, the blood and the brains flying out. There’s just something satisfying about it.
Once you’re sure he’s deader than a door nail, you drop the board and straighten back up. A sigh of relief and a small smile lights up your face as you look at your little scene. You remember where you are and you look up and your eyes go right to Joel as he just stands there, staring at you with those big, brown eyes. A look of admiration and shock on his face, that’s when it hits you, he didn’t know you were here. Oops. Well now he knows.
Despite being covered in blood and brains, you take charge and walk right up to Joel, grab his face and plant the biggest kiss on his lips.
Joel’s shocked as hell. You’re the pretty little librarian from earlier. What the hell were you doing at his place? And what the hell just happened? The way you took that kid out was. . Well it was hot. Watching you beat that kids head in with this deranged look on your face made his dick throb. If he thought he wanted you when he first saw you, well then he’s gotta have you now and by the kiss you’re giving him right now, it seems you want him just as bad.
Your tongue pushes in between his luscious lips as you enthusiastically lick the inside of his mouth, tasting him. When you feel him return the kiss just as enthusiastic, you can’t help but let out a muffled moan. You were already horny thinking about the handsome farmer on your walk over here and then getting to act on an urge has you dripping wet. Joel wraps his arms around you as the two of you continue to lick and taste each other. You feel his hands move down and grip the back of your thighs, so you grab onto his shoulders and let him hoist you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Joel carries you inside the barn, pushing you up against the wall just inside the door. Your lips on his never breaking the whole time. You grind your cunt onto the front of Joel, feeling his huge erection through his overalls. Joel breaks away, leaving a kiss on the side of your mouth as he trails kisses down your neck before biting down on the sensitive part of your neck and sucking.
You let out a loud moan as he bites down on your neck, gripping the curls at the base of his head. You can’t hold back any longer, you use your body weight and push against him, making him break the connection of his lips on your neck as he stumbles back. You land on your feet, gripping his flannel as he slowly stumbles back on his ass. Immediately you straddle his thick waist as he lands on his butt. You push the top half of him down on this little pile of hay he landed on, still gripping his flannel, you give him a devious smile
“You like this baby? Huh? You like watching me kill? Does that turn you on?” You say in a seductive voice as you lean forward, putting a hand around his neck, lightly choking him. Joel looks up at you with the horniest look in his eyes, so turned on he can’t form the words he wants to say. He lets out a moan like grunt at your question, licking his lips.
You give him this empathetic pout. “Oh poor baby. Look at you. Pathetic.” You pronounce that last word with venom laced in your voice. You raise your other hand and slap his face. Not too hard but hard enough his face turned to the side and his cheek got red where you hit him. He turns his face back to look at you, shocked.
“Use your words big boy,” you slap his face again, “You like this baby? You wanna fuck my tight cunt? Yea you do baby. I wanna feel that huge dick your hiding fill me up.” You say, a moan escaping as Joel thrusts up under you.
“Fucking hell girl, you keep this up I’ll give you this dick every damn day darlin’” Joel finally manages to say. Moving his hands off your hips, Joel scrambles to undo his overall straps to pull it down. Your quick to lift up off him and help pull them down to reveal his boxers that your quick to pull down, Joel lifting his hips to help you remove them.
You swear your eyes bulge out of your head when you see his cock. At least a good seven inches, decent girth and uncut. Your mouth drops open as you literally drool at the sight of him. Lifting up your dress, you spit in your hand and go to lube up his dick. You weren’t wearing panties since you took them off after work so you could finger your poor pussy relentlessly to thoughts of Joel. Gripping his cock, you sink down on his hard length, the stretch of taking him hurts so good. Your barely past the tip and already your eyes are rolling back. You’re no virgin by any means but you’ve only ever had one partner. And his dick was no where near the size or girth of Joel’s. You almost have to stop mid way down and take a deep breath so you don’t hurt yourself.
Joel’s big, meaty hands are gripping your hips as he bites his bottom lip trying his best to restrain himself from fucking up into your wet heat. He can tell by the look on your face he’s a lot to take. Finally you sink all the way down on his cock.
Letting out a moan, you’ve never felt more full. You clench your pussy a couple of times earning an unabashed moan from this big hunk of a man before he moves his hips up, pushing his cock deeper into you.
“J- Joel ohmygod I can feel you in my stomach! Ooooh nngh oh Joel fuck me!”
Joel puts his hand on your lower stomach and presses down as he moves his hips up, causing you to go up and down on top of him.
“Fuck darlin I can feel me in there too. You’re so tight baby f-fuuucccckkkk ride me darlin’ come on ride. this. old. cowboy.” Joel says, punctuating the last few words with a thrust. You manage to collect yourself, still on your knees straddling him, your hands finding purchase on his chest, you begin to rock back and forth before moving up and down. You find a rhythm going back and forth between the motions that feels so good. His cock kissing your cervix as your tight walls hug him. Joel puts his thumb up to your mouth and you take it, sucking his digit. The both of you groaning at the erotic moment. Joel takes his thumb out and moves down to your clit where he begins to rub small, precise circles around your button. It takes no time for your pleasure to build. Actually you were already rather close just from how good his cock felt penetrating you.
“Oh god Joel yes! Yes! Fuck don’t stop!” You yell as you begin to ride him harder, your pussy gripping his cock even tighter, “f-fill my cunt up! I-I want you deep inside of me baby! Please! Oh fuck please!”
Groaning at hearing you say you want his cum deep inside of you has Joel’s eyes rolling back. Just a few more circles on your clit has you over the edge, coming hard on his dick. You slump forward, laying your chest on his as he wraps his arms around you, holding you to him as he begins to thrust up into your wet cunt. Feeling your pussy spasm around his cock, it takes no time before Joel’s shooting his thick load deep inside of you. You lay your forehead on his as you both close your eyes, breathing heavily, coming down from your high.
“Darlin’ I don’t even know your name but I’d love to marry you.” Joel says with a chuckle. Giggling you tell him your name as you sit up and move to get up off of him. Your legs still jelly so you kinda fall over to the side and lay down on the hay pile next to him.
“When I saw you at the library today you took my breath away. You’re so pretty.”
You’re little post sex smile grew into a huge grin, “I have to be honest, I live not that far away from you. Not long after I moved in, I went explorin and found your barn and saw you chop some wood. I’ve had eyes for you ever since.”
Your little confession made Joel blush.
“Would you like to come inside my house? I can clean you up and I can put a pot of coffee on and we can talk? Unless you wanna leave?” Joel asks sheepishly.
“I would love too!” You say excitedly before placing a soft kiss on his lips.
When the two of you finally got up and went inside, you guys talked until the sun came up. You never did go back home after that. Soon his house became yours too.
A/n: they got married and lived happily ever after the end. Jk you’ll be seeing these lovebirds again thanks to @neverwheremoonchild for planting an idea seed in my head already lol anyways I hope y’all enjoyed! I appreciate all the likes/comments/reblogs! You guys are the best!😘♥️
Farmer Joel enthusiasts: @multiversed-daydreamer @patti7dc @neverwheremoonchild @beefrobeefcal @toxicanonymity @lumoverheaven
#serial killer Joel#joel miller#farmer Joel#pedro pascal#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#dead dove fic#dark fic#spooky fic#spooky season#joel miller x female reader#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal cinematic universe
248 notes
·
View notes
Text
Masterlist
All fics are explicit! minors dni!🔞
Series
BAD BLOOD - step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller
Summary: you want your stepdad and your step uncle offers to help
*****
KISS KISS BANG BANG - no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader (bank robbers AU)
Summary: Joel and you live a life full of risk, thrill and danger. Every day can be your last, so you savour every kiss and enjoy each other to the fullest. Can you survive this journey to your dreams?
*****
PERFECT STRANGERS - no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: What would you do if you met a perfect stranger? Someone who understands what you've hidden deep inside your soul. The attraction is instant. It's perfect. What if you don't want to be strangers anymore?
One Shots
Hot shower -pre-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader pwp
Strawberries and cream- no outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader DDLG
Sweet remedy - no outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader DDLG
A Villain’s Monologue - serial killer!Joel Miller x f!reader dark fic
The Helping Hand - post-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader somno
Keep On Your Mean Side - post-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader (written with @milla-frenchy) dark fic
Birthday Surprise - no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader x Tommy Miller mfm
Jacket -no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader fluff
The Burglary - burglar!Joel Miller x f!reader x burglar!Tommy Miller (written with @milla-frenchy) dddne, non-con
Flasher - flasher!Joel Miller x f!reader exhibitionism
Flower - post outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader dead dove, dark fic
Bad Girl - Joel Miller x f!reader x Tommy Miller (written with @milla-frenchy) dubcon
Morning Bliss - post outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader smut, fluff
Cockwarming Joel - blurb
Feed Me - Joel x f!reader pwp
His - dark!Joel x f!reader x dark!Tommy x m!OCs DDDNE NON CON
✨Always and Forever - post outbreak Joel x f!reader angst
✨Ribbon - Joel x f!reader pwp
✨Good Girl - Professor Joel Miller x f!reader
The Party - dark!Lucien Flores x f!reader non con
The Beast Within- dark!Ezra x f!reader dark fic
One shots
The Visit - Javier Peña x f!reader semi-public
Surveillance - Javier Peña x f!reader voyeurism
Series
The Hounds of Hell - Javi x f!reader x Steve written with @milla-frenchy
Summary: you meet two DEA agents in a bar. You drink too much and they offer to take you home.
Watching You - Dave York x f!reader voyeurism
After Watching you - drabble
Flat line - dark!Dave York x f!reader dark, noncon
The Devil in Me - devil!Dieter Bravo x actress! reader
SERIES MASTERLIST
#pedro pascal#masterlist#pedro pascal characters#devil!dieter bravo x you#dieter bravo x reader#the last of us#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#fanfic#ezra x reader#ezra x you#ezra prospect x reader#ezra prospect smut#serial killer!Joel#dark fic#javier peña x you#javier pena x reader#javier peña#dave york x f!reader#dave york x you#dave york smut#dave york x reader#dave york#tommy miller x you#tommy miller smut
319 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝙸𝚖𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚓𝚘𝚢'𝚜 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗
꧁⋆⊱❪🪦☎️🕯🩹🩸🔪🎃❫⊰⋆꧂
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍂๋࣭ ⭑⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Get ready for October, my loves. Not only is it my birthday month, but it's my favorite month, so I have a lot planned,
To be added to the taglist comment or reach out 🫶🏻
Requests 🍂⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍂๋࣭ ⭑⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍂๋࣭⭑⋆.ೃ
Open requests for......
Criminal minds (all characters)
The last of us (all characters)
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍂๋࣭ ⭑⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Request are a whole other thing you can Request anything and will still have my kinktober fics (probably will be like 3-5) ALL REQUESTS WILL BE DRABBLES OR WILL TRY AND BE!!!
Now....
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍂๋࣭ ⭑⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Knife/ 🔪 - DARKKKKKK, however dark you want, I'm ok with writing anything dark, but I draw the line at incest and body fluids
Tombstone/🪦 - Major character death fic or reader death involved
Blood/🩸- Vampire, any type of vampire allowed killer, lover any
Band aid/🩹 - comfort of any form, comfort sex, cuddles anything
Let the light in/🕯- a fic based on a song lyric
Telephone/ ☎️ - a Texting fic
꧁⋆⊱❪🪦☎️🕯🩹🩸🔪🎃❫⊰⋆꧂
Pumkin/🎃 - holloween or fall themed fic
🥧/ Cherrypie - Other......
Kinktober masterlist.........
꧁⋆⊱❪🪦☎️🕯🩹🩸🔪🎃❫⊰⋆꧂
#tlou#criminal minds#imyourrjoy kinktober#serial killer!joel#vampire!joel#unsub!spencer#dark fic#dark fanfiction#joel miller#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#requests and asks#kinktober#Fluff#smut#joel miller x you#joel x reader#joel miller x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#pedro pascal#spencer reid#criminal minds drabble#tlou drabble#happy october
39 notes
·
View notes
Note
will you make a masterlist for all of your fics?
ITS FINALLY HERE !! Get ur vibrator & a bucket of popcorn for this wild ride 😁 It’s probably not everything but it’s most, srry :( some r drabbles, some r not
There will be more to come!
Bunny’s Masterlist ♡
Warning: contains 18+ themes
(read content warnings pls!!)
Scream (Ethan Landry, Chad Meeks Martin, Amber Freeman):
Perv! Sub! Neighbor Ethan with bimbo! Reader (smut)
Camp Counselor! Ethan Landry bending you over a picnic table and fucking you raw (smut)
Sub! Ethan and bimbo! Reader going down on each other <3 (smut)
Fucking stepbrother! Ethan Landry on a camping trip (smut)
Subby himbo Ethan (smut)
Ultraviolence- Stepbrother! Ethan Landry feat. Chad Meeks Martin (not completed yet) (mostly smut w/plot)
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Sub! Chad meeks Martin only wanting to please you (smut)
Mutual masturbation with stepbrother! Ethan (smut)
Somnophilia with stepbrother! Ethan (smut)
Getting caught being with Stepbrother! Ethan Landry (angst)
Lactation kink with Ethan (smut)
Ethan marking you with his cum (smut)
Getting punished by Ethan and Chad (smut)
Service top Chad with sub! Ethan and reader (smut)
Ethan tied up and overstimulated (smut)
Knifeplay with sub! Ethan (smut)
Pegging Ethan (smut)
Chad and bimbo! Reader teaching sub! Ethan how to give head (smut)
Bimbo! Reader using a fleshlight on sub! Ethan (smut)
Sub! Ethan Headcannons (smut)
Dom! Reader with sub! Ethan and brat! Chad (smut)
Helping sub! Ethan relieve stress (smut)
Overstimulating sub! Ethan while riding him (smut)
Blowing Ethan in his knight costume (smut)
Perv! Ethan x bimbo! Reader (smut)
Somnophilia with Stalker! Ethan (smut)
Soft dom! Ethan and soft sex (smut)
Ethan with bimbo! Reader Headcannons (smut)
Chad and Ethan taking turns with sub! Reader (smut)
Sub! Ethan getting rimmed & pegged (smut)
Knifeplay with Amber Freeman (smut)
“stepbrother I’m stuck” trope with Ethan (smut)
Ethan wearing your underwear <3 (smut)
Dark! Ethan Landry Headcannons (smut)
Vampire! Ethan Landry x Werewolf! Chad Meeks Martin x reader (smut)
Outer Banks (Rafe Cameron, Pope Heyward, Barry)
Obx Porn Links
Dark! Rafe Cameron Headcannons (sfw & nsfw)
Best friend! Rafe taking your virginity (smut)
Sub! Rafe (smut)
Rafe with a crazy reader (mentions of sex)
Rafe brainrot (smut)
Stepbrother! Rafe comforting reader (hinted smut, fluff)
Barry with bimbo! Reader Headcannons (smut involved)
Gunplay with dom! Barry (smut)
Spiderman! Pope hcs (sfw & nsfw)
Barry kidnapping cameron! Reader (smut)
Dark! Rafe Headcanons (smut + sfw)
Florida Kilos— Rafe Cameron x fem! Best friend! Reader (smut w/ plot)
Part 1
Predator/pray kink with rafe (smut)
stepbro! Rafe fluff :)
Fear Street (Tommy Slater and Nick Goode)
older! Nick Goode + fucking you in his office (smut)
Kissing Tommy for the first time (no smut)
Sweet Serial Killer - Younger! Gf! Nick Goode x reader
Part 1
The Hunger Games (Finnick Odair, Coriolanus Snow, Sejanus Plinth, Reaper Ash)
fucking switch! Finnick in the arena while everyone watches (smut)
Coriolanus with a breeding kink and an escort! reader (smut)
Virgin! Coryo fucking Sejanus’ girl (smut) pt 2.
angsty reaper ash blurb (smut)
Sejanus + size kink blurb (smut)
coryo + jealous reader blurb (smut)
Cowboy! Coriolanus au (smut)
Angst + dark coryo & plinth! Reader (smut)
munch coryo x maid! Reader (smut)
virgin! Coryo blurb (smut)
Sub! Coryo fucking his way up to the top (literally) (smut) pt 2
The Last of Us (Joel Miller)
Somnophilia with dark! dbf! Joel + grinding (smut)
Avatar (Jake Sully)
size kink with Jake (smut)
House of the Dragon (Aegon Targaryen)
sub! Aegon with Aemond’s wife (smut)
Halloween Series (Corey Cunningham)
blurb of giving Corey head <3 (smut)
The Lost Boys (Star)
a cozy night with star <3 (smut)
Spider-Man (Miguel O’Hara)
Miguel taming you (smut)
American Psycho (Patrick Bateman)
Patrick x trad goth! Bimbo! Reader (smut with some complicated feelings)
Saw (Adam Stanheight, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Amanda Young)
night terrors and handjobs (smut with angst)
mark coming home to his lover (smut)
Cockwarming with Mark + a threeway with Strahm (smut)
a little psycho! Fem! Reader x Adam blurb (smut)
dom! Adam (smut)
yandere! Mark blurb (smut)
eating out dom! Amanda (smut)
Hayden Christensen (Anakin Skywalker)
spanking with modern! Punk! Anakin (smut)
Insatiable (aka, dbf! Neighbor! Anakin and his many affairs with you) — masterlist (smut with plot)
Dbf Anakin! + flashing + milkshakes = fucking (smut)
Anakin x overwhelmed reader blurb (smut)
Anakin + reader with bad memory (fluff)
Dbf! Anakin + religious reader (smut)
Queen of the Damned (Lestat De Lioncourt)
bath scene with sub! Lestat & reader (smut)
Fnaf (Mike Schmidt)
Mike nsfw headcanons (smut)
small lil Mike x succubus blurb (smut)
#bunny’s masterlist ੈ✩‧₊˚#masterlist#outer banks#obx#scream#scream 6#scream iv#ethan landry#Chad meeks Martin#rafe Cameron#barry (outer banks)#p. links
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
hi!!! request for joel being readers first kiss. He won’t go any further than kissing but they have a LOT of fun kissing
thx
post outbreak jackson pls
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Warnings: very brief talk of some sexual themes at the end, but the rest is... you guessed it, kissing!
a/n: 1000/10 idea i literally blushed when you sent it. idk about the execution tho
You were so incredibly embarrassed when you told him, when you finally had to confess that you had no experience, and by that I mean really none, absolutely zero.
But then again what could he have expected?
perhaps he knew right from the moment he set eyes on you, and perhaps... perhaps he liked it.
It oozed from your every pore... your innocence, it was in the way you couldn't meet his gaze, in the way you shivered when his hand grazed against your arm, in the shyness in your voice... it was in everything... it was all of you.
But he nicked at it, piece by piece, brick by brick, he had gotten to know you... maybe a little too much.
He had realized at one point, too late he'd grow to admit, that he liked you, really liked you, in a way he hadn't experienced in ages, in a way that made him feel sixteen all over again.
And yes you were young... much too young for him, and yes you were complete opposites, him, a rough man with enough blood on his hands to make a serial killer's skin crawl, and you, you a pretty little thing who'd lived her whole life in Jackson, safe from the atrocities of the real word... but still, still he he couldn't stop his old heart from beating faster when he was with you.
And that's why one day, one cold, windy day, as snow fell to the ground and you held onto his arm as if it was a life jacket, while he walked you back home, he couldn't do anything but tell the truth.
"Joel" you had said right outside your front door.
"yes sweetheart?" he asked, watching your pretty face fill with dread
"Joel I... I like you"
You'd told him so casually, so simply, that for a moment he wondered if he had imagined it.
But you had misinterpreted his pause all wrong
"I-I'm sorry nevermind, pretend I didn'-"
"no, no I'm sorry" he shook his head, forcing himself out of his trance "You said you like me darlin'?" he asked, taking a step closer to you so he was right there before you, looking down at the gorgeous girl who'd just made all his wishes come true.
"mh-mh" you nodded shily
And at that, he smiled, placing a hand on your reddening cheek, as his thumb gently stroked it
"well then we're in luck" he'd murmured "cause I happen to like you too sweetheart" he promised "a lot"
"r-really?" Your eyes sparked with joy
"of course baby" he breathed, bending down to meet his lips with yours instinctively before your voice stopped him
"wait-" you said
"oh, I'm sorry, I'm going too fast"
"n-no you're not it's just that..."
it was getting harder to meet his gaze again
"if you wanna wait that's ok, sweetie"
"n-no I don't wanna wait, Joel, it's just that-"
"what is it?"
A loud sigh left your mouth before you could respond
"I've never... I've never kissed anybody"
His mouth fell open slightly at the confession, but he recovered quickly, now both his hands holding your pretty face.
"oh" he breathed "that's ok sweetheart, we can wait"
"no I want to kiss you Joel, I really really do... but- but I'm scared I won't be... good at it"
"oh baby" he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle "You'll be great at it, don't you worry"
Your heart was racing and your breathing hitched as you looked up into his hazel eyes
"do you think- do you think you could... teach me?"
Now Joel Miller didn't deem himself a romantic, but the way you said that... the way you gazed dreamily and both anxiously into his eyes as you spoke those words... he had to stop a moment to thank whoever was up there for having allowed him to meet you.
"of course I can" he said
"yeah?"
"there's nothing I'd like more baby"
And that was it, you were smiling like a kid in a candy store
"s-so what do I do?"
His hands were still on your face, holding you in a way that made your knees weak
"just follow my lead, I'll go slow, don't worry"
You nodded at that, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours and you were- you were giving your first ever kiss.
You got up on your tiptoes and held onto his arms as you closed your eyes and got lost in the feeling- and wow- you had only read in books about it and seen it in a couple of the movies they showed in Jackson, but this... this was just amazing, it felt like you were dreaming, like you had ascended to another universe.
He had kept his promise, he did go slow, but it felt heavenly for him too nonetheless.
He leaned away after what was probably an eternity, to look back at you and confirm this was all real
"so?" he asked, "how was it?"
You couldn't help but giggle as you almost jumped out of your skin from the happiness.
"good" you grinned "very very good"
"mmmhh" he hummed, moving one of his hands to your waist to bring you closer to him "'s that right"
"yeah" you breathed so lowly he wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been an inch away from your face
"well I'm glad" he smirked, kissing you on the cheek this time "Hopefully we'll do that again then"
"yes please"
He chuckled at that, not leaning away
"would you like a goodnight kiss?"
Not a split second passed that you had already answered
"yes" you nodded, leaning up already "yes please"
And that was how it all started.
That was the night you found your true calling... kissing, and not only that, but kissing Joel Miller.
God, there was nothing better than it,
feeling his beard stroke your cheek, the way his strong hands held you as he did, the way he tasted, the way his warmth spread all over your body, it was all just... perfect
And the coolest thing was that when he said he was gonna teach you, he meant it.
Who knew there were so many ways you could kiss someone?
There were the French kisses, the kisses on the neck, the "special kisses" aka hickeys you loved giving him and that he loved pretending not to like, then the kisses standing up, laying down, and your personal favorite: kissing him while sitting on his lap, and then of course as time went on you both found out (although him especially) how much fun it was to kiss in public, at the bar, on patrol, you name it, it didn't matter, what mattered was that his lips were on yours and his arms were around you (and even if he would have never admitted it, he loved it because he loved showing everyone you were his, and he was yours).
If it were up to you, you'd spend your whole life like that, diving your fingers into his hair as his hands explored every inch of your body, your face, your hips, your ass, your belly (above clothes of course), making you shiver and whimper with every movement.
But it was only just kissing, Joel made a promise to himself he was gonna wait, and it's not that he didn't want to go further, god only knew how many times his dick got hard just by giving you a chaste kiss on the lips as he felt your body pressed against his (and yes that did make him feel like a hormonal teenager again, but then again, everything about you did), so no it definitely wasn't that, and he didn't know if it was because he felt guilty or in some way, like he would be doing something wrong, but for now, all he knew was that he needed to wait, wait until he was sure you were sure about him, and about you.
And for now... for now, you were more than happy with it, counting down the seconds until you'd get a taste of him again.
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fluff#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#fluff#joel miller imagine#joel miller blurb#joel miller angst#fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo
697 notes
·
View notes
Text
horny&depraved book club (welcome back, my dear psycho)
Part 3 of beautiful, smutty, absolutely fucked up fanfiction! Don't forget, this fic rec list contains dark works that have extremely dark topics, [main warnings are listed in brackets]. All works are x f!Reader.
LANDLORD FROM HELL by @absurdthirst [dark!Frankie Morales; voyeurism; manipulation; abusive relationships; murder]
I CAN BE YOUR PRETTY GIRL by @walkintotheriveranddisappear [manipulative!Joel Miller; dub-con; virgin reader; age gap]
STRANGERS by @toxic-seduction [Joel Miller; non con/dub con; public sex; exhibitionism; voyeurism]
ULTRAVIOLENCE by @devilmademewriteit [Joel Miller; non con; light dacryphilia; age gap; coercion]
HOUSE ARREST by @shadeysprings [Joel Miller; noncon, smut, stepcest, age gap]
ALL YOU WANNA DO @atticrissfinch [dark!creeper!Joel Miller; non con; girthy age gap; fetishization of new-adulthood]
CLAIM by @ezrasbirdie [dark!Joel Miller; dub con; somnophilia; power dynamics]
HOSTAGE by @atticrissfinch [serial killer!Joel Miller; noncon; kidnapping; assault; gunplay; degradation]
TWISTED LOVE by @cool-iguana [Joel Miller; dub con; dacryphilia; stockholm syndrome; dom/sub]
CNC by @toxicanonymity [Joel Miller; consensual non con; dub con]
You can contribute to the book club by mentioning your favorite dark works (all Pedro Pascal characters are welcomed) OR send some creepy love to the amazing authors by again mentioning them in the comments or just sliding into their ask box! Also, if you have written your own dark works that weren't mentioned here but you think they deserve some recognition, don't be shy and promote that depravity!
REMEMBER! FICTION IS NOT REAL LIFE AND WHATEVER YOU SEE ON PAGE DOES NOT MEAN I (or anyone else) CONDONES THIS TYPE OF BEHAVIOR IRL.
Whatever you do in life should be safe, sane and consensual.
688 notes
·
View notes
Text
midnight tow (slasher!Joel)
3.6k / slasher!Joel x fem!reader / master
Slasher masterlist | art by @bonezone44 💙
Req: Serial killer from @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
WARNINGS: Horror, DARK(serial killer)!Joel, near murder by strangulation, manhandling, dubious consent, choking, unsafe PIV sex, reader can sit on Joel's lap. unedited. I8 plus. Reader survives! ♥️
Your breath hitches when you see the bright lights, then relief floods your chest as the tow truck comes into view. The driver parks his unmarked truck, hops down out of it, and walks to your car. He gets just a couple of feet away before he stops to face you and spreads his boots, crunching the loose asphalt beneath them. The truck lights illuminate him. He's wearing a blue working man’s jumpsuit that stretches over his biceps as he crosses his arms. The name on his uniform is Joel.
Joel's dark eyes scan you, then he scratches one side of his salt-and-pepper beard. “Got anyone to come get ya, sweetheart?” He rubs the back of his neck, exposing a dark patch of sweat under his arm. "Real dangerous out here at night. . . Nothin' good happens this late.”
His voice has a calming effect, despite his unnerving words. For a moment, you admire his nice head of hair instead of facing the reality of his question.
Your car broke down in the worst possible area. Nothing within walking distance. You drained your phone battery trying to get a signal and finally managed to call for a tow, but you weren’t able to reach anyone to help you get home. Waiting for the tow felt like forever, especially without a phone or watch. It felt like something or someone was going to pop out at any minute. It's a humid night, and even the clouds have refused to cooperate, dimming the light of the nearly-full moon.
This is not the guy you talked to on the phone. His voice would’ve made an impression on you.
You tell him you weren’t able to get a hold of anyone.
“Anyone know you’re out here, might see the missed call and come lookin’?”
Maybe, but you don’t think so.
“Hmmm,” he says. “Well, lemme load your car up, then we’ll figure it out. Sit tight for me, sugar,” he says with a wink. He has a disarming energy. "Gonna take me a minute." The clouds begin to clear away from the moon, affording more light. You begin to feel better all around.
You carefully sit down on the grass near the cab of the tow truck with your knees to the side and behind you since you’re wearing a short dress. Not a single car has passed by the whole time you’ve been broken down, at least an hour. You wait as he uses some wire to secure a loose part on your car, then loads it up onto the bed.
His biceps and quads stretch his uniform as he crouches on the bed of the truck and secures the straps around your car’s wheels. He gets hot and unzips his jumpsuit for air, exposing a dirty t-shirt. Then he opens the passenger door to the cab of his truck and it's piled high with scrap. No seat. He reaches behind the driver's seat and grabs an enormous wrench. His forearm flexes as he carries it off to tighten something on the back of the towing platform. When he’s done, he comes to talk to you again.
-
“Whew. Been a looong day," he says as he wipes his brow with a rag then throws it over his shoulder. "How ‘bout you, sweetheart? Couldn’ta been that good."
You agree as he takes off the sleeves of his jumpsuit and ties them loosely around his waist. When you follow his large, veiny hands to his waist, it's impossible not to notice the crotch of his uniform is tight enough to see he's well-endowed. You yank your eyes back up and he crosses his arms again. His muscles are hard and he has the slightest paunch. The way his biceps and pecs stretch his t-shirt is a welcome distraction from the rock bottom situation. Looks like a guy who works with his hands, lifting very heavy things, and enjoys a few beers at the end of the day. Or night. It feels like a miracle you could get a truck at this hour, especially in this desolate area.
His phone doesn’t have service for you to call anyone. Since the service is so bad, he just has a radio to receive dispatch instructions. Since he doesn’t have a passenger seat, and that space is instead occupied by scrap, the only thing he can offer is for you to sit in his lap. Unless he leaves you by the side of the road.
You choose his lap.
He gets in first, puts the big wrench in the back, and empties his pockets. He puts a switchblade near the gear shifter and hangs some spare wire around the rearview mirror before he sits down. Then he settles in and unties his sleeves, letting them hang off the seat. He extends his massive hand to you. His bicep flexes as he helps you into the cab of the truck. You sit down on him ass-first, but it’s a precarious position and you could get hurt. You jostle around trying a few different things. You get butterflies from being so close to him, touching him, smelling him, feeling his body against yours.
“Alright, let’s try this,” he says. “Turn around an’ face me, then hug me like we're on a motorcycle. Safer.”
-
Hard to believe this is happening, especially in your short dress. Of all the nights to wear one. You hesitantly straddle him, and when you’re face to face a few inches away, his features are even more striking. He has a perfect nose. His brow is furled and casts a shadow over his eyes like he has a sexy secret. He has a dimple perfectly nestled in a patch of skin within his beard. Looking him in the eye is too intense at this distance.
You tug pointlessly at your dress but there’s no way to be modest in this situation. He reads your mind. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he reassures you. "Don't worry 'bout it." He pulls you in closer so your crotch meets his and your heart skips a beat when you feel his warm, ample package. “Hang on tight, now.” You put your head over his shoulder, facing the back of the truck .
The smell of his sweat is intoxicating. He starts the engine and pulls back onto the road. It’s not long before you feel him hardening under you. He lifts his hips, sending a rush of arousal through your body.
You shift shyly and he pulls you back into him, then lifts his hips again and clears his throat. “Can’t help it, sugar. Sexy little thing like you wrapped around me. Damn.”
Your face burns. There’s a long silence and his arousal is digging into your panties the whole time. He turns his head ever so slightly to inhale your hair. The next thing you know, his lips are pressed against your neck. Lightly enough to be accidental at first. But then they drag an inch without him pulling away. He opens his mouth against your dewy skin then closes it, like he’s eating something invisible off you. A chill goes down your spine and your nipples harden.
“Bother you?” he asks, subtly thrusting his hips up again. No, it doesn't. You’re hot for him. It bothers you a little that it doesn't bother you. Like you know it should. But what could you say anyway? You’re at his mercy. You might be dead on the side of the road without him.
“Guess not."
“Good girl.” He adds his tongue and full on kisses the crook of your neck as he drives, then gives it a nibble and a suck. You’re so wet. With the pathetic thong you're wearing, it must be no secret from him.
His voice gets horny and low. “Good thing you're down,” he says, “or this wouldn’t be any fun.” He drags his nose up your neck to your ear and adds "Yeah, you're into it. . .I can feel it."
-
By the time he pulls into a gated property, he's turned you alllll the way on. Between his voice, and his mouth on your neck, and his clothed arousal against you, you’re a wet mess. You're trying desperately not to hump him as he slowly traverses what seems to be a gravel yard of cars.
When the truck slows way down, he rests a hand on your ass and gives it a squeeze as he says, "What a ride. . ." with an upward thrust. "Ain't over yet, though." Your cunt flutters at those words. Then he clears his throat and adds, "We're goin' through the back gate to another lot." You scold yourself for being disappointed in what he meant, but you can't imagine he'd deny you if you made a move right now.
You wait, though. You'd rather figure out how you're going to get home first.
-
Joel drives deeper into the lot. It's dark, but you try to look around. There's no back gate or other lot that you can see. All you see are the skeletons of cars that have been picked over for scraps. A pit forms in your stomach. You start to scoot back from his crotch. He notices and parks the truck. There’s a look in his eyes, and something makes you reach for the door. His large, veiny hand gently covers yours before you can open it.
“Whoa, sugar. Where ya goin'?" Your heart rate quickens and your gut feeling intensifies. You try to get out of his lap, lunging for the door.
"What the hell are ya doin, sweetheart?" He firmly grabs your arm. You stare at him, your chest heaving, heart racing. He glances at your neck and you imagine he must see your jugular vein pulsing a mile a minute.
"Too dark out there, sugar.” You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “Lotta sharp stuff.” He looks at you skeptically. “Lemme turn on some lights first.”
You exhale in relief. He was just protecting you.
He hits a button on his dashboard and it illuminates the surrounding area with the yellow siren lights on the top of his truck. He gazes at you through wounded eyes, looks down between you, where you're no longer covering his hard, swollen package with your crotch. He must feel so cold. He swallows.
"Damnit," he says. His eyes glisten. "Thought we were havin' fun." He sighs solemnly. "Wait here a sec." You feel bad. He’s gone above and beyond to help you. Maybe he deserves the benefit of the doubt.
So you wait in the truck, catching glimpses of vehicular carcasses as the amber light dances over them. Nothing drivable.
Then it hits you like a punch in the gut that you still can't see a back gate, even with the added light. It's just a fence. That’s all there is to it. There’s nowhere a gate would even be. No other lot in sight. Your heart races even faster than it was a moment ago.
You jump in your seat as a machine rumbles to life, followed by the sound of metal in distress. You look in the direction of the noise and the yellow lights pour over a big, industrial dumpster. Your stomach turns.
You're still processing your fear when the truck door opens, making you jump again. Joel climbs up into the cab and nudges you up so he can get under you. You freeze and do it in a daze. Then he starts the truck and coaxes you back into straddling him. You feel like you have no control, you have no idea what’s going to happen, no idea what to do.
-
Joel reaches behind you to the rearview mirror and sighs lazily like he's about to do a chore.
“Been a while since I shredded a car this new. Damn shame, wasn't plannin' on it tonight."
Your heart drops through your feet. “What? –why are you-”
A cool, thin wire presses against the top of your spine, then he wraps it around your neck like a scarf. His face goes dark and serious, and his voice goes flat.
“Real dangerous out here, sweetheart.”
He takes a deep breath and his cock swells harder against you. He holds the wire in one hand and tightens his other arm around your back. He slowly begins to twist the wire against itself. You grab at it and beg him to stop. To your surprise, he pauses.
You try to slow your breathing. You can’t get out, you can’t fight. He just looks at you with dead eyes, waiting for you to say something else. It hits you there's only one thing left to do to buy you some time. And you need to make him forget you tried to leave the truck.
“Wait,” you say as calmly as you can. "Weren’t we in the middle of something?" You reach down and grab the hard bulge in his jumpsuit. To your horror, a stab of desire slices through your clit. You spread your palm and press it into him, massaging his cock. You're throbbing for him. You're genuinely dying to fuck this sicko. He makes you sweat out a long moment of silence.
“Now that might get ya somewhere,” he says, low and gravely, thrusting into your hand. He lets the wire hang from your neck. One strong arm tilts you up against him while he urgently pulls his jumpsuit's zipper down more. He grunts as he frees himself from his boxers. The next thing you feel is his stiff, warm, naked cock against your inner thigh. He slips a finger into your thong and sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how wet you are.
He murmurs, “Damn, you really do want it.” He looks you in the eyes hornily, then seductively as though to say he likes where this is going. Like he didn't just loop a ligature around your neck.
He takes a deep breath. "Maybe I took it the wrong way," he says in self-reflection.
"What?"
"When you tried to open the door. . ."
He's nuts.
"I was . . . embarrassed I was getting you wet."
"That's the least of your worries."
He pushes your thong aside, then the large head of his cock finds your warm, wet little hole. He wraps both arms around you and pulls you down with a low grunt that turns into a sigh as he impales you on his shaft. You don't suppress your moan as his girth parts your core and you sink down on his cock. He fills you to the brim and stretches you wide, making you grateful for how wet you are.
"God damn, you're tight." He pulls you down even more with a lift of his hips and a vocal sigh. "This what you wanted?"
You nod and try to move your hips, but he holds you still. "Use your words."
"Yes," you say. "God, yes."
He still doesn't let you move. "What did you want?"
"Your cock"
"Yeah,” he nods. “And what do you want now?"
It feels like a trick question. "Whatever you'll give me."
You're sitting there for a moment and he studies your face like he's wondering if it's a trick. The car shredding machine roars menacingly.
Your cunt twitches and he inhales sharply.
You break the silence. "Fuck me, Joel.” He wants to be wanted. “You feel how much I want you." Then you rock your hips gently - very gently. He must want to be in control. And you don't want him to come too fast before you’ve decided what to do next.
"Please," you beg. “Fuck me,” you mouth silently with the horniest eyes you can muster.
"There she is." He lifts his hips in return.
"Please, Joel." He pulls back, then plunges into you again, holding your hips down on him. He retreats, filling his chest with air, then lifts his hips slowly again, bottoming out deep inside you with a sigh. He fills you all the way up. And when your bodies are flush, the pressure on your clit is just right. The noise of the car shredder becomes part of the background.
He gets into a rhythm, and this man knows how to fuck. He's so smooth, and your cunt squeezes his cock so tight, there are brief moments you forget what you’re supposed to be thinking about. Instead you’re just marveling at the motion of his hips and the sounds of his breath and the perfect shape of his cock dragging against your walls.
You need to access whatever part of him doesn’t want to kill you. But god, it’s hard to think with his cock inside you and your life on the line. His lower belly grinds into your mound, and his massive hands scan your back. The wire bounces around your neck.
"God, you feel good," you gush. "So good." As you ride him, you weigh the options. You could seduce him into the idea of fucking you again later then run when he's asleep, or you could fight for your life right now. Your lips graze his neck and you consider biting his jugular as hard as you can. A powerful thrust upward shakes you out of the thought and nudges your g-spot. He grunts each time your warmth sheathes him.
The window is completely fogged over. You moan, then say, "you knew it would turn me on, didn’t you?" You lightly touch the wire around your neck without removing it. You caress it. "You could tell I wanted it." You roll your hips harder into him and feel a climax building. He breathes heavily as your cunt pulls him back in each time.
"Shit," he pants. "Little sex kitten like you?" His cock twitches deep inside you and he slows down. "Course you wanted it."
"Yeah," you breathe, rolling your hips into him slowly. "Oh god," you pant. He holds your hips and gradually speeds up again, moaning and sighing.
"Lucky you're so fuckin' hot," he snarls.
"It's hot you had the balls to scare me like that," you say. "just to turn me on even more."
There’s no doubt in your mind this man is a killer, but you need him to believe you don't think he is. It’s the only way he can let you live.
"Musta worked," he pants. He fingers the cord around your neck and the rough pads of his large digits brush your delicate skin.
"Do it," you tell him. "Choke me."
He grunts "Mm" with an emphatic thrust.
You cover his hand on your neck with yours. "God I love these hands," you gush truthfully, tracing the veins as you ride him and feel something building more and more in your gut.
His hand wraps more than halfway around your throat as you bob up and down in his lap and he tightens his grip. His thumb digs into your jaw. Your hips buck into him hard as your head fills with pressure and your throat croaks. He loosens his grip enough for you to moan.
"God I wanna suck your cock," you tell him, knowing he'll come too soon before you can.
“Maybe later, sugar.” You try to suppress your excitement. You might get out of this alive. “If you’re good.”
He bites his lip, and his thrusts intensify. He wraps both arms around you and firmly cradles the back of your head with one hand, his beard prickling your cheek. He pistons into you and you let yourself come, choking his cock with your climax. You don’t hold back at all, you let it all out, almost crying as you convulse in his lap. Then he holds you down and groans, powerfully shoving his cock into you as he erupts. He empties his balls into you with a long sigh.
He rests his head back and breathes. Your climax wanes, and the next few moments feel like an eternity. The car shredder sounds louder than ever at the forefront of your mind. You have no idea whether he’s more or less likely to kill you now that he’s come. If it brings him clarity, is it going to be clear that you have to die now or clear that he never should have thought about it?
-
Finally, he reaches his hand to your neck and your heart skips a beat. He takes the wire and puts it back around the rearview mirror.
“Just a minute, sugar.” He nudges you up and tucks himself away in his jumpsuit. He gets out, and you stay put, his cum trickling out of you and onto the chair. It’s a delicate moment, not worth the risk of trying to run. Where would you run, anyway?
The car shredder turns off, and you relax back into the seat, ready to cry tears of joy.
Joel comes back and opens the door to the truck. He stands there for a second, looks you up and down. You must be a hot mess, and he seems to like it.
He moves his tongue in his cheek like he’s thinking. Then he says, “You really wanna suck my cock, don’t you?”
You smile. “After that? Fuck, yes. What a rush.”
He looks proud, like that really was his intent all along.
“Alright.” He climbs back into the truck with you and you get out of his way while he sits. “You’re comin’ home with me tonight.” His hands slide over your thighs, looking at you with new admiration as he pulls you in to straddle him again. “Figure out your car in the mornin’.”
-
If you want another one mention it in the RBs or comments. Thank you all so much for your support and engagement. Your reblogs and comments mean so much for me. Best readers out there!!
-
All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy
#joel miller x reader#dark!joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fic#joel miller fic#creepy!joel miller#serial killer!joel miller#slasher!joel miller#toxicanonymity ☠️#slasher!joel☠️#tw dubcon#tw: everything#tw strangling#tw murder#slasher!joel#content label
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Chase (Part 2)
SerialKiller!Joel x F!Reader (7.29k)
DARKAU! SEQUEL TO THE HUNTED. POV will switch between Joel and Reader. This is dark, even darker than the first part. Read the warnings if you’re worried. Skip them if you don’t want anything to be spoiled.
Summary: Joel Miller is on the run after being released by his captor - a woman who claims to be a killer just like him. He’s so focused on trying to outrun her that he hasn’t killed anyone in months. Will her obsession or his own be his undoing?
Warnings for Part 1&2: 18+ MDNI. This is dark. Unprotected PiV sex, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, kidnapping, stalking, bondage, violence, punching, kicking, slapping, choking, blood, mention of needles, talk of murder. *TW: Character Death*
A/N: When you see "*****" - that indicates a POV switch. SECOND DATE CONTINUED - LET’S GET TO THE GOOD STUFF!! *wink wink. So this part is… let’s use the word *physical*.
(READ THE CHASE PART 1 HERE)
**CABIN LAYOUT POST IF YOU'RE A VISUAL PERSON LIKE ME**
Where we left off....
You’re still blowing on the spoon in front of your face, watching him. He lifts another spoonful to his lips, and freezes. You haven’t put that spoon in your mouth. You’re just staring at him, watching him eat. He looks down, past his spoon, into the bowl. What is this? What is he eating? He looks back to you, your eyes still boring into his own, still gently blowing on your spoon.
“Eat your dinner,” you bark, “little bird,” you quietly add.
What.
Is.
This?
He drops the spoon into his bowl, otherwise keeping very still. You stop blowing on your spoon, blinking slowly. Biting your tongue to suppress your smile, you make an obvious glance at the revolver in the table’s center. When you meet his eyes again he blinks but refuses to look away, unwilling to look at the weapon. You break eye contact again to look once more at the gun, letting your gaze linger longer this time. When you look back at him, his eyes are narrowed, and a deep line settles between them.
You sigh. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to go for it. He refuses to even acknowledge its presence. Maybe he knows you emptied it back at the campsite. Maybe he just wants to use his hands instead. Either way, it seems as though he’s not going to eat the carefully crafted dinner you made for him, so it’s about time to get this show on the road.
You must give something away because before you can move a muscle he is lunging across the table, his right hand immediately at your throat. You grab the syringe taped under the table with your right hand and in a wide motion, aim it for his open left side. Unfortunately he expects this and grabs your wrist with his left hand before you can even come close to making contact.
His large fingers are digging into the tendons at your wrist, painfully separating them, weakening your grip on the syringe. Meanwhile the fingers on his right hand are steadily increasing pressure on your windpipe. You need to focus. You can’t hold onto the syringe if you’re unconscious. You use your left hand to dig your nails into the skin of his arm at your throat. When it has no obvious effect, you drop the syringe and immediately bring your right arm to join the efforts.
This must not feel good, because before you can see it, you feel it; the open palm of his left hand cracks against your face. You’re surprised how much it knocks the wind out of you, but then again, you’ve never been slapped across the face by a grown man before. Instinctually you reach out to grab his face, clawing at the air as he is out of the range of your arms.
His face is serious, his eyes black, the sound of his harsh breaths filling the room. He raises his hand in a show to slap you again and you’re embarrassed by your body’s reaction. You flinch. Not even a little. A huge flinch. Your eyes squeeze shut, your face contorts, your arms raise up to defend your head, and your body tries to turn away from him. You forget to even focus on his other hand cutting off your oxygen supply.
But part of your brain is fighting to live, and with the dwindling spirit left, your body lets out a pathetic gurgle from your mouth. It catches his attention. He blinks his eyes rapidly, focusing them on your face as though he’s seeing you for the first time. His mouth falls open, his breath gasping. His hand falters at your throat, the grip becoming almost light.
You reach your left hand out towards his head as gently as you can muster, cupping it to receive his cheek in your hand. Even without words he understands the gesture, and slowly brings his face in to meet your hand. Once his smooth cheek is resting against your palm, he closes his eyes, the grip on your throat barely felt now.
You draw your right hand back as far as you can and slam the heel of your hand against his nose in an upward motion. His eyes fly wide open, as does his mouth, a loud cry piercing the silence of the cabin. Blood almost immediately begins to flow out of the nostrils of his crumpled nose, his hands flying to his agonized face.
With your small window of opportunity, you reach down to grab the syringe off the floor. It takes a moment longer than you expect as it’s a little slippery. The syringe is already covered in blood drops because the whole floor is already covered in blood drops. You look up at him and see that he’s bleeding like a stuck pig. His fury-filled eyes meet yours. Your window has closed.
There is pressure once again at your throat as both hands forcefully raise you up to standing, the syringe slipping out of your wet fingers. His grip at your throat resumes its efforts, his focus singular once again. Before your nails can find purchase in his skin a second time, you feel the ground under your feet disappear. The lack of oxygen is starting to make you dizzy but you’re pretty sure the entire room is actually spinning. It’s only when your body slams against the floor do you realize what has actually happened.
He has thrown you to the ground.
He stands above you, eyes wild, blood covering his lips, his chin, even his teeth, which are bared in an animalistic snarl. Before he can dive on top of you to finish what he’s started, you notice his legs are straddling one of your own. Planting the outside foot, you bring the other leg up as swiftly and as forcefully as you can.
Your shin makes a sickening noise when it comes in contact with the apex of his legs. This time the noise he makes is much quieter, as all his breath seems to leave his lungs before he can cry out. His hands are cupped over his balls as he drops heavily to the floor, falling with such little care that the back of his head slams against the dirty planks.
Not wasting one moment this time, you grab the syringe and climb on top of him. You straddle his torso, attempting to pin his arms cradling his manhood below you. He is able to get one arm out from under you before your full weight settles on him. You take the syringe in both hands and press it towards his chest. With his free arm he grabs your wrists and attempts to push them back, to move the needle away from him.
You squeeze your thighs around his torso, keeping his other hand bound under you. You lean forward, putting more weight onto your arms to press downward. He is still fighting, unsuccessfully, to stop the forward movement of the syringe. One hundred percent of your focus is on the needle inching towards him. You squeeze your legs harder and hear him struggling to breathe. You lean forward and down, pressing the needle closer. Closer. Closer.
You watch the needle disappear into his shirt, piercing his skin below.
*****
He’s watching your face. You’re watching the needle. You won’t take your eyes off of it.
The needle is in, you’re going to push the plunger. You’re going to kill him. He’s going to die.
“Baby,” he croaks with the little breath you haven't squeezed out of his lungs.
Your eyes snap to meet his.
You pull the needle out and sit back.
The needle falls to the floor once more and you lean forward again, this time capturing his lips with yours. He knows his face is covered in blood, hell most of him is covered in blood. You broke the shit out of his nose. But you don’t seem to care. He doesn’t care either. Your mouth is on his and you’re kissing each other and tasting each other and he was about to die but he’s alive and you’re fucking crazy and you’re his.
His hands are all over you, one on the back of your head attempting to push your tongue deeper into his mouth, the other roaming your back, both pulling and pushing your body forward into his chest. You lift your pelvis up slightly and then grind back down into his lap, making him groan loudly, but you probably don’t realize it’s from pain. Maybe you forgot how hard you just kicked him in the balls.
He pulls you tight to his lap to try and curb your movements on his sore crotch but you’re absolutely feral. You’re moaning into his mouth, licking and devouring him. Your hands are fisting in his hair, pulling and scratching. Your body is gyrating and smashing on top of his, drawing out breathless grunts from him. He’s trying to enjoy himself but he’s still in so much pain. Everything hurts right now.
He pushes off with one foot, gently flipping you over so you rest under him now, parting your mouths for a beat. You look at him for a moment and the intensity he sees in your eyes is mind-altering. There is a tightness that seizes his whole body, making his head swim. He feels a heaviness settle in his belly and a throbbing desire begins to come forth. He hasn’t felt this way in a very long time.
He hunches over and dives his face into your neck, nipping and kissing at the skin over your pulse point, remembering well the way you cried out when he did that last time. He keeps his body above yours, avoiding contact with his center, leaning his head down into you. Your hands go under his shirt, scratching at his back as you arch yours and resume your moaning. The syringe lies completely forgotten one foot away from your writhing body.
He starts to notice that everywhere he kisses you is wet and upon pulling back, he sees it’s because your neck is covered in blood. His blood. It’s all he tastes, so he didn’t even realize he was still actively bleeding, saturating you. You open your eyes and look at his face, then down at your chest and realize what he sees.
He leans back but brings you forward, not wanting to separate too far. He pushes himself up onto his feet gently and grabs you by the waist, pulling you up from the floor and against his chest. You gesture with one arm, and he leads you the short distance to the kitchen sink. He lifts you up and sets you on the countertop, moving close to stand between your legs.
You reach behind you and grab a roll of paper towels, and you both use them to clean each other up. You gently push paper towel wads into his nostrils, he wets some and wipes down your neck. He gently dabs the corner of your mouth where your lip split from his strike, you wipe off the bottom half of his face. A pile of wet and bloody paper towels begins to form at his feet as you each take care of the other, working to repair the damage you did to one another.
When you’re both finally cleaned up, he gingerly pulls the paper towel out of his nostrils. He dabs up a single blood drop that weeps slowly out of one side, but otherwise the bleeding has stopped. With his hands on your thighs he begins to kiss your face, slowly at first and then deeper. You’re both being gentle with each other now, careful. Tender.
He can’t breathe through his busted nose, so he has to keep pulling back, taking frequent breaks from kissing you. Your eyes meet his every time he does, pupils having swallowed your irises. The tightness returns to constrict at his chest, making his insides feel hollow. He keeps rubbing his hands on your thighs, trying to ignore their trembling.
He guides your legs to wrap around his hips and he lifts you off the counter, carrying you into the bedroom. He sets you down on the large bed where it’s obvious you’ve been sleeping and slowly begins to undress you. The way you maintain eye contact and blink slowly as he peels your clothes off piece by piece has him beginning to harden in his jeans.
When he has removed everything but your underwear, you lie back on your elbows, feet dangling off the side. Neither of you has said anything since he called you baby just as you were about to end him. He lowers himself to his knees in between yours and drags his hands up your legs, wrapping his fingers around your underwear before slowly pulling them off.
Keeping eye contact, he leans forward and places kisses on the tops of your thighs, up your hip, across your lower stomach, and overtop your mound. He finally closes his eyes when he lowers his face into your patch of hair and inhales, stifling a smile when you gasp sharply. With a hand on each knee he gently pushes your legs open, pleased when he meets no resistance.
He leans back down into you and begins to lick. Just as with your kissing he starts slow and gentle, increasing pressure and speed as he goes. Still unable to breathe through his broken nose, his breathing through his mouth goes right into you, creating sloppy slurping noises that, mingled with your moans, fill the room. This time when he pulls back from you to take breaths, he meets your gaze and whispers praise into your core.
God dammit you taste so good.
I’ve thought about you like this for months.
You look so beautiful.
Louder… louder I wanna hear you.
Your moans increase, an edge forming on them, becoming desperate. Your head is thrown back on the bed, unable to look at him anymore, back arched, legs beginning to shake. He’s talking you through it and he knows you’re close but when your noises turn into whines he realizes you need something more.
He slowly pushes two fingers into you, wet but tight around him, until his knuckles are seated against your lips. He latches his mouth over you and begins to suck, swirl his tongue, and move his digits in the same motion all at the same time. That’s what you needed because you immediately cry out his name and start pulsing on his fingers, wetness leaking out onto his palm.
He wasn’t expecting you to say his name when you came and it has him absolutely dizzy with need. Between the way you taste, the way you feel, and the way you sounded moaning and screaming his name, he is so fucking hard in his pants it’s painful.
He stands up and unbuttons his shirt, pulling it off and wiping you off his face with it before letting it fall to the floor. You shift to pull your legs and feet up on the bed, laying on your side facing him with your head on his old pillow. He further rids himself of his pants and underwear, your eyes drawn to his cock, deep red and leaking. He crawls across the bed until he’s hovering over you, speaking in a gravelly voice.
“Tell me yer name.”
He watches your eyes look back and forth between his, a smile forming on your lips.
“My name is whatever you decide,” you whisper, and hook one leg around his waist to pull him towards you. His cock bumps up against your wet folds but he resists, growling, pulling back and grabbing your face with one hand.
“No. I wanna know what it is,” his dark eyes search yours. “Tell me yer name,” he orders again, “please.”
*****
Your self-satisfied smile fades away at his final word, at his seeming desperation. This is what you wanted, right? You wanted him to know you, to want you, to feel you. You wanted him to experience a shred of the agony you’ve been experiencing for five months; wanting him, needing him. You’ve been so close and yet not close enough to touch him or taste him or feel him. Now here he is, doing everything you’ve been dreaming about, and you have the chance to hear your name on his lips.
“My name,” you whisper in a broken voice, “is Kathryn.”
Kathryn, he repeats. He rolls it around his mouth a few times, looking at your face, trying to decide if it suits you. He lets a smile creep across his face and leans down to whisper your name in your ear as he pushes himself into you. He fucks you slowly, slower than you’ve ever been fucked. He kisses your mouth, your face, your neck, he even lets you suck a painful hickey into his shoulder as you moan into his skin.
You think he’s going to speed up but he doesn’t. You think he’s going to flip a switch after you mark him but he doesn’t. You think he’s going to lose control when you wail at the feeling of his thick cock dragging along your walls, but he remains steadfast. Only when you cry out, finally the one to break, does he even acknowledge the agonizing pace he’s set.
You whine, a truly pathetic high-pitched sound, that you need more and he huffs a laugh into the crook of your shoulder. Even then he doesn’t pick up speed, he continues to drag himself in and out, the squelching sound of your wet cunt being drowned out by your howling. He reaches between you, touching your clit, and with only a few strokes you nearly black out from the intensity of your orgasm.
It’s like a bomb goes off inside you, jolting electricity down all of your limbs. You hear ringing in your ears but can’t quite process that it’s from you, having just screamed loud and long. You’re still convulsing on him inside of you when you feel him sit back on his heels. Remaining pushed all the way into you, he spreads his thighs and pulls your hips to tilt up on his lap.
He leans over you once again and whispers in your ear that he’s really going to fuck you now, as if what he just did was somehow something else. But when he follows through on his promise, rolling his hips into you, slapping his pelvis into the back of your thighs, slamming his cock deep inside of you, you believe him.
He pushes your legs up and leans on the back of your knees, pushing your legs down into you, pressing you deep into the mattress. He fucks you faster, snapping his hips into you harder and harder, pushing breathy moans out of you now. He fucks you until your moans increase and then go silent, watching you intently as you begin to come on his cock again. He follows you immediately with his own release, stilling with his hips pressed inside you, grunting as he pulses his load into you.
You hear him groan ‘Kathryn’ several times as he cums, and now you’re annoyed with yourself for lying. That could have been your name he said, if you didn’t have such trust issues. Oh well. You can pretend to be Kathryn for the night. Maybe for him you could pretend to be Kathryn for longer than a night. You wonder if he’ll stay.
*****
He wakes in the middle of the night, his arms wrapped around you pulled close to his chest, the way you both fell asleep. He starts thinking about how the day has gone. Part of him didn’t want you to catch him, fearing what you could be capable of. Part of him did want you to catch him, longing to be reunited with you again. A constant war inside him, going back and forth, pushing him along over the past five months but tethering him to the thought of you.
You were on his trail the whole time. Did part of him know? Did part of him want that? Was he ignoring the signs the entire time, leaving you breadcrumbs and letting you watch him from afar? Every thought he has is now consumed by you. He is overwhelmed by you. The smell of your hair, the feel of you in his arms, the warmth of your body against his. He instinctively clutches you tighter, passing on the constricting feeling spreading in his own chest.
What is this? Are these feelings? He has been half numb for decades, the only thing akin to emotion that ever rises to the surface is rage. He feels it even now, even among the other feelings brewing inside him that are threatening to spill out. He feels his rage as a low flame deep in his gut, and lets it rise up to warm him, twist his guts, burn his ears.
But then you turn your body into his, awakened by his tightening grip, and you wrap your arms around his torso, one under him and one over. You pull him into you and smash your lips onto his and the flame stutters. It’s pushed back down by the rest of what’s inside him, which expands now, filling up the empty spaces, making him feel like an inflated balloon.
Maybe there’s a compatibility here, which seems an absurd thought. He thinks you’re crazy, but he’s sure people would call him crazy as well for the things he’s done. You might be the only person who can understand him. Well, understand who he’s become. He wasn’t always like this, but there’s no going back now. You were right when you said you do it - killing - because it feels good. It feels so fucking good, and he likes it too much to stop.
Although it occurs to him that he has stopped, that he’s gone six months without it, that he is starving a part of himself he had kept regularly fed for a very long time. He pushes that thought away as you deepen the kiss with your tongue against his lips, your nails dragging along his back and scratching through his hair. He lets you wrap your legs around him and he rolls into you, joining you in the exploration of each other.
You use mouths, tongues, and fingers, familiarizing yourselves with one another’s bodies, taking turns getting off over and over. He loves you like this; when your head is thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted. In the dim light he watches your face crumpling in ecstasy at what he’s doing to you. He feels you holding your breath right before a shockwave hits you, orgasmic bliss washing across your body. You look so beautiful when you let him take you apart.
Sweaty, sore, sated, and sleepy; you both collapse back into each other’s arms and fall into unconsciousness. He sleeps solid and soundly, for the first time in a long time.
He wakes up to the sound of a thump on the wall and realizes you’re not in bed with him. He can hear what he assumes is you in the bathroom, on the other side of the bedroom wall. He faintly hears the water running and some rummaging around, then the closing of a cabinet door. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and by the time you’re walking back into the bedroom in a towel he has woken up.
“Good morn- oh,” you say as you rake your eyes over him in the morning light. You don't continue. He must look more than worse for wear if it gives you pause. If it’s any indication of what his appearance must be, his entire face is aching and throbbing.
“Maybe I need… a shower?” he asks. You only reply with a head nod. If he didn’t know better he’d say you had a look of remorse in your eyes. He pulls his head from the pillow and the pillowcase sticks to his face for about a foot until it peels off and falls back to the bed. Dried blood had melded his face to the pillow. Must be his broken nose had sprung another leak.
He hoists himself off the mattress, still feeling pain in between his legs where you kicked him, and his back not loving him at the moment either. He walks past you, rummaging through the dresser at the end of the bed for clothes, as he heads out of the room. He sees you now in the daylight, fresh face clean of makeup, damp hair down and shorter than the last time he saw you.
He notes you’re not as young as he thought you were the first time he saw you. You’re still significantly younger than his 56 years but you have a couple gray hairs at your temples, some lines starting around your eyes. He wonders how long you’ve been doing this, and if you’ve ever found anyone else like you before, like him. Anyone else you could truly share yourself with.
“Oh,” he says at the doorway, turning back towards you. “Do you prefer Kathryn… or Kathy… or Katie or…..” he lets the last word linger in the air, expecting you to finish the sentence.
You’re only partially turned towards him but he sees that you briefly squint, a look passing across your face. It’s gone in an instant and you shrug your shoulders, still not looking towards him, “I don’t really have a preference. Just whatever you want.”
He waits a beat and then decides not to ask the next question on his lips. “Ok sweetheart,” is all he replies before he heads into the bathroom.
In the ghoulish reflection of the bathroom mirror he sees what you saw; a face covered in bruises. Two black eyes, a red-purple nose still bent at an odd angle, a pool of dark dried blood from his nostril to his cheek, red marks bitten down his neck, and a sizable maroon hickey sucked into his shoulder. He looks like a colorful palette of pain.
Stepping in the shower he places his palms on each side of his nose and braces himself. He pushes his palms together against his nose and drags them down and to the right, attempting to reset his own broken nose. The consequences of his action are searing pain stabbing backwards into his head along with a renewal of the river of blood flowing from his face.
He also cries out loud, despite himself, and feels tears pricking at the back of his eyes. He hears you call through the door asking if he’s okay and he calls back that he’s fine. The nasal tinge to his voice must give away the source of his outcry, as you don’t ask any follow up questions.
By the end of his shower the bleeding has slowed to a trickle and he grabs some toilet paper as he steps out. He reaches for the mirror to open the medicine cabinet to check for a first aid kit, but his fingers slip off the edge. It’s not a medicine cabinet, it's just a mirror. He looks around the bathroom for a cabinet. He’s sure he heard you in here earlier closing a cabinet door.
Shower, shower curtain, window, toilet, pedestal sink, mirror. That’s it. There is no cabinet.
He suddenly recalls the look that passed across your face when he asked you what nickname you preferred. The look was… what was it? Confusion? As if you didn’t know what he was talking about. Then you told him you didn’t have a preference. You apparently didn’t care what people called you. How unusual. Just whatever you want. What did you say last night when he asked your name? My name is whatever you decide. That’s what you had said.
A vile tightness grips his insides as he feels the familiar flame begin to rise deep within. Can he trust you? He wants to. He stuffs the toilet paper into his nostrils to free his hands and gets down on the floor, still naked and wet. He feels around the floorboards, checks the baseboards, and even checks the toilet tank. Then just as he’s about to stand back up he sees it. Kneeling at the toilet he can see the wall paneling under the sink has a loose board, sticking out just a fraction.
He quietly pries the board loose, and sees the plumbing for the sink behind the wall. Stuffed inside the wall among the pipes are several plastic bags and a small messenger bag. He carefully removes the cloth bag and opens it, finding personal items inside. This bag is most likely being used as a purse, as it contains an address book, a women’s wallet, and two cellphones - one of which used to belong to him.
A soft knock comes at the door.
“You okay in there?”
“Yeah,” he replies, trying to sound calm and not like he nearly just jumped out of his skin.
“You didn’t bleed to death, right?”
“Nawww, can’t get rid a’ me that easy,” he chuckles for good measure. “I’m just….” he isn’t sure what excuse to give. If he says he’s treating his wounds you might want to come in and help and he’s just now realizing there's no lock on the bathroom door. The silence goes on for what feels like forever.
“Seein’ a man ‘bout a horse?” you ask. He exhales the breath he was holding. You think he’s embarrassed about taking a shit. Sure, that works. He’ll let you think that.
“‘Fraid so,” he answers, “won’t be much longer.”
He hears your footsteps go into the next room and move about the small kitchen. He’s still kneeling naked on the floor, purse in hand. His heart is racing in his chest and every muscle in his body is aching with tension. He pulls out the wallet and opens it up, eyes immediately finding the driver’s license. There you are, a version of you, staring back at him.
You’re wearing a bright smile, an unfamiliar haircut, and the name written next to you is different from the one you gave him. He takes the license out of the holder and checks the anti-fraud hologram, and the other security measures the state that issued it put in place to prevent fakes. He has many years of experience with fake IDs, having made many himself. It’s only gotten harder to make them as the years have passed and he knows the one he holds in his hand now is a legitimate ID.
He can’t trust you. You lied to him. You gave him a fake name. You made a big stink about him not asking your name and then when he did ask you; you lied. You don’t want to share yourself with him. You don’t give a shit about him. You tried to poison him at dinner and when that didn’t work you tried to stab him with that needle full of shit that probably would have stopped his heart. You broke his fucking face. You kicked him in the goddamn balls. You’re a crazy fucking bitch.
He comes out of the bathroom and casually checks over his shoulder, seeing you in the kitchen preparing some kind of food that he definitely won’t be eating. He steps into the bedroom to grab his clothes from yesterday off the floor but you’ve picked them up already. Instead he finds a stack of clean clothes sitting on top of the dresser, more of his clothes you stole from his house.
He hastily gets dressed and walks out into the main room, passing by the open bathroom door and glancing down, where the concealed items he found are still spread out on the floor. The flame of rage is tearing at his insides, beginning to set fire to everything you’ve done together in the last half day. He marches up to you at the kitchen counter, cracking eggs.
“What’s your name?” he huffs out. He sees your hands falter.
“Kathr-”
“NO,” he interrupts, “I know that’s a fuckin’ lie. Try again.”
You drop the eggs, shells and all, into the bowl on the counter and turn towards him. You smile sweetly at him, not answering. He hardens his gaze but it has no effect. You don’t stop smiling. You don’t answer him. You don’t tell him your name.
The inferno inside him has reached flashover, combusting everything inside his body at once, turning it to ash. Yesterday he complained that you had the upper hand and you were insulted. But you have been nothing but withholding since the moment he met you. Nothing but a liar. You have manipulated him in every step he’s made and what’s worse, is that he’s let you.
You had the nerve to make a complaint about him not knowing you, when you won’t let him know you. When you don’t care to know him. When you don’t care about anything. He had all of these things inside of him, filling him up, expanding his physical body with the surge, and you don’t care. Everything he had to give you, and you don’t want it. You don’t want him.
*****
You see it out of the corner of your eye and it takes every shred of effort not to instinctually duck out of the way. His left hand cracks against your cheek, sending you flying into the table, knocking the gun that sat atop it onto the floor. Your hands scrabble against the table as you fight to keep yourself upright, the pain temporarily blinding you and making you want to sink down to the floor. Then you feel his hands on your arms, pulling you back up to him.
He holds you by your upper arms now, shaking you, red-faced and screaming for you to tell him what your name is. You don’t fight back, letting your body go limp like a doll, letting him rattle your brain around your skull. His legs sweep behind yours and you fall to the ground, but notice that his hands are behind your head to catch you before you can knock too hard against the floor.
Not wanting a repeat of yesterday he quickly climbs on top of you this time, squeezing his thighs on either side of your hips. His hand reaches out to your throat but the grip is so soft at first. You look at his face and his angry eyes have gone momentarily soft. He must have noticed the bruises all over your neck from his fingertips yesterday.
Any shame he felt is washed away quickly, as he catches your still-smiling face peering up at him. His grip gets tighter and tighter, as he growls repeatedly for you to tell him your name. He goes until your vision starts to blur, and the black starts to creep in around the edges. Your eyes slide back in your head. Then he lets go and shakes your neck, allowing oxygen to rush back into your lungs as you choke and gasp for air.
Once he’s given you a moment to breathe he repeats the constriction on your throat, screaming for your name as you barrel towards the edge again. Why is he even doing this? You can’t answer him. He’s asking a question and then depriving you of the ability to speak. You suppose it doesn’t really matter in the end, since you won’t be giving him what he wants either way. It occurs to you as you begin to lose consciousness again that this must be what his victims experience.
You’re shaken back into existence once again, met with his red seething face as you open your eyes. You put the soft smile back on your face and continue to lay passive at his ministrations. You think your smile might actually be making him angrier. You notice there are tears in his eyes threatening to spill over and he has started to mutter to himself. You do your best to decipher what he’s saying even with the dwindling oxygen to your brain.
You don’t think I’ll do this but I will, you’ve done this to me, you’ve driven me to this, you’ve been chasing me, I’ve been running away like a rat, I haven’t killed anyone in so long, you don’t think I’ll do this but I will, I have to do this, this is what I am, you’ve done this to me.
You know that he’s losing it, maybe he’s already gone, already snapped. You’ve been able to step away from this chase over the last many months and fulfill your urges but you know he hasn’t. He’s been starved this whole time and now he has his hands around your throat and you don’t think he’s going to be able to stop himself. Maybe he doesn’t want to stop himself.
Maybe this is all this has ever been. Him waiting to get his hands around your throat. He’s been hungry for it since the first day he saw you, you recognized the look in his eyes. He’s played your game, made you believe you were kindred spirits, taken everything he wanted from you, all so that you could end up here.
It surprises you a little that after everything you’ve survived, you’re not even fighting back.
Oh well. If even this man can’t love you, then who could? Let him have you in whatever way he wants. No one else wants you. Let him take whatever you have left to give. Let him take your life.
You weren’t really honest with him about much. Not your history, not your motivations, certainly not your name. But you were honest with him when you gave him yourself, when you gave him your body. So you’ll give it to him now, let him suffocate it, let him smother the life out of it. After all the lies he deserves some peace. You’ll give it to him.
He also deserves to at least know the truth about how you feel.
*****
He is delirious right now, consumed with rage, drunk off the feeling of his hands tightening around your neck, watching you go in and out of consciousness. You made him feel things he thought were long dead, he doesn’t even understand how he let you worm your way inside him and dig these feelings up. They’re mixing with everything else and confusing the shit out of him.
This should be familiar. The rage. The thrill. The choking gasps beneath him. But it’s different this time because it’s you. Fucking you. What have you done to him? He’s confused and angry and… hurt. Why did you hurt him? Why did you fucking lie to him? Why did he let you? Why were you doing this to him? There’s unfamiliar things happening too. There’s hate. There’s… love? There’s excitement, and terror. He can’t take his hands off you. He can’t let go. He can’t stop squeezing.
This is familiar. This always ends the same way; with a limp and lifeless body beneath him. But it’s different this time, right? You’re staring back up at him, a lazy smile on your face, eyes hooded. The periphery of his brain notices that your hands are not trapped under him, they’ve been resting limply on his thighs this entire time. You could be fighting back but you’re not.
Are you egging him on? Do you think he won’t do it? Do you think he doesn’t have it in him?
You think he’s weak. You think you breached his walls and tore down his defenses. You think you’re smarter than him. You think you’ve always had the upper hand. You think you’re better than him. You think he’s dumb. You think he’s sloppy. You think you know him.
You’re going to. It’s going to end the same way it always does.
He wraps both hands around you now, pressing his body weight down into your neck, watching your blinks get slower and slower. His vision has tunneled now and all he sees are your eyes, all he hears is his own blood pumping a muffled beat in his ears. He barely registers the touch of your hand on his cheek, finally noticing when your thumb brushes over his lips.
His vision opens up enough to see you mouth the words, I love you.
He shakes his head repeatedly, not letting up the downward pressure. Even after your hand drops from his face to fall listless at your side. He sees your pupils get slightly larger, despite the sunshine pouring in from the front windows. He feels all tension leave your body beneath him. He has lost track of time. He blinks rapidly and releases his tight grip.
You don’t inhale. He shakes you. Nothing. He slaps you. Nothing. He slaps you harder. He watches your chest, you’re not breathing. He checks your pulse, he feels nothing.
He went too far. You’re fucking dead.
He fucking killed you.
Bile forces its way up his throat and he turns his head to the side, throwing up all over the floor. His vision is blurry and all he hears is a high-pitched ringing in his ears. He slaps your face with both hands, back and forth, screaming at the top of his lungs for you to wake up. He grabs your shoulders and shakes you hard, letting your head bounce around on the floor.
He vaguely recalls being trained for a summer lifeguard job almost four decades ago, and with limbs that feel like they weigh a hundred pounds each he attempts to mimic that training. He haphazardly pounds on your chest, frequently huffing his full lungs into your mouth. He’s fighting the dread slowly consuming him from within and swallowing back the nausea that threatens to cause him to vomit again.
Raising both arms up high, he beats down on you, hoarse shouts echoing through the too-quiet cabin. Pausing to shove his fist into his mouth, to stifle the sob that falls out of him now, he vaguely registers the soft bird songs outside. Sunshine, dewy grass, birds and bugs and wildlife outside in stark contrast to the macabre scene inside.
You, lifeless, lying on yesterday’s bloody floor. Dead by his hands.
Suddenly you jolt awake, gasping loudly and coughing violently. He jumps off you, letting you roll to your side as you grab your chest and sputter wildly. Holy fucking shit. You’re alive.
He stands up, horrified by what he’s done to you, terrified by the anger, and the hate, and the love racing through him. What has he done? He did what he always does. He destroyed. He is nothing but a destroyer. In another life he was handy, but now he lives a different existence. All he does now is break things, pull them apart, and scatter the pieces.
*****
You focus your vision in time to see him backing away from you, wide-eyed. He watches as you gather enough strength to wheeze out a quiet sentence, “you love me too,” and then he takes off. He runs into the bathroom and when he comes back out he’s holding your purse. He ducks into the bedroom and when he emerges from there he’s holding your pillow (that you stole from him).
He grabs the empty revolver off the floor, checking and seeing the empty chambers, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. He rounds the table and goes to your jacket, draped over one of the chairs, and fishes his truck keys out of the pocket. He heads to the door and opens it, turning in the doorway so you can see his face, still tear-stained and flushed.
He doesn’t make eye contact with you.
“This is over. You hear me?” he doesn’t wait for you to answer or even look at you for acknowledgement, “No more chasing me. It’s done….” He inhales a strong breath, and says in a low and steady voice, “If I see you again, you’ll stay dead.”
.
.
.
*peers out from behind rock. everyone okay? i hope it wasn't too much....😬
✨🔪These two will return in.... The Surprise🔪✨
TYSM to @theywhowriteandknowthings for helping me flush out ideas, talking me down from panic, being a pretty amazing human being, and being a fucking awesome writer. LOVE YOU.
#joel miller x reader#serial killer joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#serialkiller!joel x f!reader#dark joel miller
138 notes
·
View notes
Text
Scarecrow
Serial killer Farmer Joel x f!reader
(Part of the In every lifetime universe, takes place before so like 1965 making Joel early 40s in this)
Warnings: Dead Dove : Gore/horror, Joel is a serial killer = he kills ppl, smut, noncon, virginity loss, inappropriate use of farm equipment, death/no survivors, oral (f receiving), dead bodies, dismemberment, slapping(face & pussy), 1 head flying, i believe that’s it, again Joel is a very bad man in this.
Summary: It’s almost Halloween! You and your friends decide to go to Farmer Joel’s corn maze for some spooky fun! Except your boyfriend is being a dick and starts to poke fun at Joel, ruining the fun. For you and your friends at least.
A/n: @multiversed-daydreamer this one’s for you babe! I took heavy inspo from Texas Chainsaw Massacre and elements from various slasher movies. This is very much a horror movie in words. This is dark and fucked up. ⚠️ Proceed with caution ⚠️
‘Two more bodies found’ ‘The fifth victim found in connection to string of disappearances’
The headlines of every newspaper and the topic of every whispered conversation around town has you on high alert. There’s been a total of what? Seven victims now? You think. No one’s sure who’s doing it but every other day it’s the same story. Someone goes missing, a few days later their body pops up, tied to a post in a field, dressed up as a scarecrow. Only except these “scarecrows” have their throats slit, multiple stab wounds and more times than not, missing limbs. To say you are terrified is an understatement. These murders have been happening for the past three years, always during the fall too.
As you sit at your kitchen table, sipping your morning coffee, your phone starts to ring. Getting up to go pick the phone up off the receiver, phone still attached by a curly cord, you answer.
“Heyyyy girly!! You already know who it is!! So guess where we are going tonight!” You hear your best friend Lucy shout into the other end of the phone.
“Lucy what are you talking about? Going where? Do you not see the news? I’m not about to go anywhere and risk dying.” You reply with a giggle, knowing damn well these murders aren’t going to stop you or her from going out and having fun.
Laughing out loud, “Well we’re going to drum roll please!” Clap,clap,clap sounds through the phone, “We’re going to Farmer Joel’s corn maze!!” Lucy all but shouts. “Annnddd you should totally invite your little boy toy Brad!” She adds with mischievousness in her voice.
“Lucy! Oh my god stop!” You giggle, “Brad and I aren’t even official yet! We’ve only gone on one date.” You say as blush begins to cover your cheeks. You all used to go to high school together. Brad was the star quarterback on the football team. You and your group of friends kept to yourselves. So when you moved back after college, you were surprised when you ran into Brad at the grocery store and started talking. That’s when he asked you out on a date. Nothing crazy special just dinner and the two of you catching up. Afterwards he awkwardly kissed you goodnight as he dropped you off at your house.
“Ooh and I think Frank and Janet are also coming too! It’s gonna be so much fun! Okay be ready by 7!” Lucy exclaims.
“Okay ill see you then!!” You say before hanging the phone back on the receiver that’s hanging on the wall.
🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃
By the time 6 o’clock came around, you’d already been ready to go. Your anxiety never allowing you to just chill. Dressed in your favorite knee length blue floral dress and white cardigan paired with your favorite pair of Mary Jane shoes. You were ready for a fun night with your friends and potential new boyfriend.
Before you knew it, you heard knocking on your door. Standing up from the couch, you smooth out your dress and grab your purse that you place across your body as you go to answer the door.
Opening the door, you reveal Brad standing there wearing his high school lettermen’s jacket, looking quite handsome. “Hey Brad!” You say as you walk out the door, shutting it closed behind you.
“Well hey there cutie pie. You ready to go out to Farmer Joel’s corn maze? Maybe we’ll get lost in there.” He says, winking suggestively at you.
You slap him on the shoulder playfully, “Oh my god Brad you are so silly. Even if we do, we won’t be alone!” You say as you try to let him down easily. As much as you do like him, you aren’t ready to do anything sexual with him. After all you’re still a virgin. The two of you walk hand in hand to his car where your other friends Lucy, Frank and Janet are waiting.
🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃
The sun is starting to set as you pull up to Farmer Joel’s place. He lives out in the middle of nowhere with tons of acres. He moved to Chesterfield about 5 or so years ago and ever since, every fall he always does a corn maze and hay rides for everybody. The hayrides ended about an hour ago and soon the corn maze will be closed for the night as well. You and your friends have about an hour to enjoy the maze and make it out before closing. Most of the families that came out tonight are leaving already probably due to the chill in the air. Still you can’t help but notice how sparse the crowd is as you and your friends walk up to the corn maze.
Joel’s standing off to the side of the maze entrance, looking rather intimidating in his overalls and steal toed boots. He’s chatting with a couple who just came out of the maze when he looks in your direction. For a split second you swear he was looking into your soul. You couldn’t help but feel a chill creep up your spine.
“Hey buddy! How are you doing old farmer Joel? Looking good for your age. How old are you? 65?” Brad says as he starts laughing expecting everyone to join in. Your friends give a tiny giggle, not really sure why Brads picking on Joel for his age.
The couple Joel was talking too just rolled their eyes at Brad and said their goodbyes to Joel before walking away.
“Very funny kid. I see you’ve got jokes. Tell me, how’s life post high school? Do anything worth mentioning or are you still stuck reliving your wonder years?” Joel bites back, not taking this stupid punks shit.
“Hey man fuck you. I was the best damn quarterback Chesterfield High has ever seen! What the fuck have you ever done? Huh?” Brad retorts back.
“Brad stop it. You’re being an ass. Come on let’s go through the maze before it closes. I’m so sorry Mister Joel don’t pay him any mind.” You chastised Brad while also apologizing to Joel for brad for being such a child.
Joel just stares at you again, seemingly penetrating your very soul. You swear he can see inside your mind. He just grunts and lifts his chin towards you as you grab Brad by the hand and drag him into the maze.
The maze itself isn’t terribly long but the aisle you have to walk through is rather small. You and Brad lead the group while Lucy is to your left just slightly behind you and Frank and Janet side by side in the back. After a few minutes you come to a fork.
“Let’s go right guys. This way we can get out sooner.” Janet suggests, having the hebbie jebbies ever since Brad and Joel had their little showdown.
“No no let’s go left, come on guys let’s take our time and have fun. Old man Joel can wait on us.” Brad tells the group, trying his best to take charge.
“No Brad I don’t feel comfortable doing that. Come on let’s just go right and get this over with and we can go to IHOP and hang after.” Janet begs Brad and the rest of the group.
“How about this? Me and Janet will go right. You guys go left. Lucy pick who you wanna go with.” Frank says coming up with a neutral solution.
“I’ll go with these guys. We’ll meet y’all at the end!” Lucy says to Frank and Janet.
The group splits off, Frank and Janet going right and you,Brad and Lucy going left. The three of you walk in silence for a few minutes before you hear what sounds like a scream. All three of you jump. You quickly grab onto Brads arm as Lucy grabs onto your arm.
“What was that?” Lucy whispers. Scared to be louder than a whisper so she’s not heard by whatever that was.
“I dunno girl. That’s super creepy. Do you think it was Janet? I hope they’re okay. M-maybe it’s just Frank scaring her.” You whisper back, trying to remain logic even though your heart is about to beat out of your chest.
“Girls. You guys are so easily scared.” Brad says, rolling his eyes. “You can’t scare me bro!” He shouts to the void.
By now the sun has set, leaving you, Brad and Lucy shrouded in darkness. There’s a couple of lights behind you at the entrance and you can see a couple more closer to the exit but that’s it. Complete darkness. And now that you notice, complete silence too. All of the other guests must have left by now leaving you and your friends here by yourselves. The three of you keep on walking when you hear snapping of a corn stalk before you feel Lucy’s grip on your arm leave. Looking back to see what she’s doing, you see that Lucy is gone. Literally vanished into thin air.
“Lucy? Lucy? Where are you?” You say in the loudest whisper you can manage. Frightened you grip onto Brad even harder, “ Brad let’s get out of here. I’m scared.” You tell him.
“Babe come on there’s nothing to be scared of. They’re playing a stupid little prank on you I’m sure of it.” He says with an air of confidence.
Terrified, you just nod your head holding onto him for dear life as the two of you continue walking through the maze. Soon enough you two are walking out of the maze.
“See babe I told you everything is fine.” Brad says.
Letting go of his arm, you shake out your arms, stiff from the tight grip you had. “Whatever Brad let’s find the others and go.” You say as you look at him.
Before he can answer you, a pitchfork shoots out his chest causing him to gurgle on the blood now flooding his mouth. The pitchfork slides back through his body as you let out a blood curling scream. Brads body slumping over and falling to the ground revealing Farmer Joel standing behind him, pitchfork in hand.
Paralyzed with fear, all you seem to be able to do is stand there with eyes wide and your mouth still open. Joel throws the pitchfork down, practically gliding over to you, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder in one smooth motion. Immediately you start banging your fists on his impenetrable back, flailing your legs.
“Let me go!! Please! I- I won’t go to the cops or anything! Just please let me go!! I don’t wanna die!!” You scream at Joel, begging for your life.
Joel just grunts at your begging,swatting you on your ass as he takes you into his barn in the back, a good ways away from the maze. And for some reason your body absolutely betrays you because why on gods green earth should that give you such a good feeling in your lower stomach. A tiny part of you hoping he does it again. Once inside, Joel drops you like a sack of potatoes onto a hay bale that’s been placed against a wooden post. Before you can even make a move he grabs your arms twisting them behind you and tying you to the post.
“No use in screaming honey. Nobody can hear you out here so it’d be in your best interest to keep quiet.” Joel finally says as he finishes tying you and walks around to face you.
“Please mister Joel please I promise I’ll do whatever you want just let me go! I don’t wanna die! Please . .” You sob, hoping this man has a sliver of mercy inside his body for you.
Joel just stands there, staring at you for a quick second before walking back out of the barn. As you sit there you notice your body betraying you further as you feel yourself start to get wet. Between him spanking you and now being tied up, a part of you is excited from the treatment. You’ve always found Joel to be handsome. Big, broad shoulders, rough hands from working on the farm, those gorgeous brown eyes. But you saw him kill Brad! He probably killed the others too you just didn’t have any proof. It must be the adrenaline rushing through you, that’s it. That’s why you’re feeling like this.
After what felt like hours being stuck inside the barn, you hear Joel’s boots thudding on the cold, hard ground followed by what sounded like wheels? That’s when you see Joel pushing a wheelbarrow piled high with your friends. On the other side of the barn, directly across from you, Joel dumps all the bodies of your friends into a pile. The bodies make a sickening thud when you notice their arms and legs have been severed from their bodies, Brads head rolls away from the pile and lands up right, staring at you.
Terrified, you let out a bloodcurdling scream. He cut brads head off!!! All of your friends have been dismembered!! You were already scared for your life, if that’s what he does to them, what’s Joel gonna do to you?!
Your scream hurts Joel’s ears, the high pitched sound causing him to flinch. After dumping the bodies he drops the wheel barrow and stomps over to you. Picking up that punks head by the hair, he throws it back to the pile. Once he reaches you, he can’t help but to slap you across the face before covering your mouth with his hand. His other hand going to the back of your head, grabbing a fist full of your hair, yanking to make you look at him.
“Be quiet girl! I already told you ain’t nobody can hear you! I don’t wanna hear that shit!” He growls in your face. You shut up immediately. He continues to cover your mouth and keep his fist in your hair as the two of have this stare down. After a few seconds, Joel breaks first and drops his hands as he looks away. Grunting he starts to untie you from the post. Once untied he unceremoniously throws you back over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, knocking the wind out of you. He leaves the barn and starts towards his house. As scared as you are, you decide your gonna do what he says and stay quiet, hoping he’ll take mercy on you if you behave.
🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃
Slamming the door closed behind him, Joel makes sure to lock all three locks and the chain to ensure you can’t get out. Still carrying you, he can’t help but notice how your ass sticks out from your dress being pushed up from being thrown over his shoulder. It’s been so long since he’s last had a woman. And a man has urges you know. Deciding in a split second to change his plan, he instead takes you up upstairs to his bedroom.
Soon enough Joel is flinging you onto his king sized bed. Sitting up you can’t help but stare up, wide eyed at Joel as he towers over you. You’ve never really noticed how tall he is. It’s almost intimidating how he looms over you. The way he’s manhandled you has caused your slick to pool in your panties. All of these emotions have left you so puzzled; he’s a murderer. You saw your friends dead. But yet you find yourself wanting to look deep in his eyes before he bends you over his knee to spank you as punishment before making you take every inch of his cock in your tight virgin pussy. Joel begins to bend down and take his boots off, throwing them one by one to the side. Nervous, you slowly scooted back towards the head board.
“You a virgin girl?” Joel asks in a gruff voice as he places a bended knee on the bed. You shake your head yes nervous as to what he’s gonna do with that information. He slowly makes his way onto the bed, now on both of his knees, crawling toward you with a hungry look in his eyes and a creepy smirk on his face making you scooch back even more. Feeling like an animal about to be attached by it’s predator.
“Good. Just how I like my women. Pure. And all mine.” Joel says in a low baritone voice, “Don’t worry darlin’ you’ll like what I do to you. I’ll make sure your untouched pussy can take my cock before I fuck you.” As much as you try to feel reassured that he’s not gonna make it hurt, you’re still scared. You’ve never been touched. The most you’ve done is some light kissing and hand holding. And now this scary man who turns you on and frightens you is going to take your virginity. Your back hits the headboard forcing you to acknowledge you have no where to go. Joel reach’s his hand out and grabs your calf, pulling your leg causing you to slide down leaving you on your back and his face directly in front of your cunt. He bends down, his nose going up and down your covered slit as he breathes in your soaking wet pussy. The feeling of his nose on your most private part sends tingles throughout your vagina and up your whole body. You can’t help by shiver from the feeling.
“Mm you smell so good baby” Joel says, breathing in deep before laying a chaise kiss on top of your mound. Joel looks up at you, You are frozen, unable to move or say anything but lay there and watch this man. The two of you hold eye contact for a few heartbeats before you feel Joel’s rough hands grab your hips and begin to peel your panties off of your body. You lift your hips to help him reveal yourself to him, wanting to feel his touch down there again.
Once your panties were off and flung to the side, Joel looks back down and let’s out a low whistle, “Damn baby looks like you want this. You want my cock pretty girl? Need a man to show you how to fuck? How to suck cock? Need me to make this cunt feel good?” He says as he takes his thumb up your slit, putting a little pressure on your clit and holding it there.
You sigh at how good that felt. Starting to feel all your thoughts melt away when you felt a slap on your cunt, making it sting, “Ouch!” You exclaim
“Answer me when I’m talking to you girl!” Joel barks at you as he slaps your pussy again.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll answer, I-I’ll be good, I’m sorry!” You sob after a third slap. Joel reached up with his other hand and grabs your cheeks causing your face to be smushed as he pulls you towards his face, “Tell me you want this. Tell me you need my hands, my fucking cock or I swear to god I’ll take you back to the barn and leave you to rot with your friends.” Joel demands, you nod your head yes, “Yes. Yes I- I need you Joel . I-Joel please, please I need you, I-I I need your cock.”
Joel leans forward, meeting your face, causing his nose to press into your nose, “Good baby. That’s what I wanna hear. I don’t wanna hurt you darlin’ but I will. I need you to be good okay? Be my good girl.” He says, shaking his head yes as he said those last words, closing his eyes. Inhaling deep, as if he can’t get enough of your scent. You shake your head yes with him, “I’ll be good Joel.” You whisper, causing Joel to open his eyes and look deep into yours. His lips part in awe as he glances down at your lips. Even though your mouth is squished, he still looks at you like your the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. That’s when he presses his lips on yours. Kissing you deeply, taking your breath away. It’s not a soft kiss by any means. He is putting a good amount of force into the kiss while also keeping your head still so you have no type of give in your neck. Soon you feel his tongue lick your lips, unable to keep his tongue out of your mouth, you have no choice but to open your lips a little wider than they already are and accept his tongue on your mouth. Joel roughly sticks his tongue in, licking all around the inside as though he’s trying to eat your face.
After a few minutes of a sloppy makeout session, Joel pulls away, letting go of your face. Moving down your neck, leaving a trail of wet open mouthed kisses. His large hands roaming all over your body, caressing up and down your sides before he raises one hand and grabs your tit giving it a squeeze. You let out a moan at that, having never been felt up before, it feels so good. Your moan spurs Joel on and pulls your dress down, revealing your breasts to him. Looking down at your boobs, Joel smiles, looking quite pleased with himself before darting his head down and capturing a nipple in his mouth.
“Ooh o-oh. Joel t-that feels so good.” You say breathlessly, looking down at the man suckling your breast. He twirls his tongue around, flicking your nipple with his tongue causing them to harden before he lightly bites down. Letting go of your tit, Joel gives you a smirk before he makes his way back down your body. His face back in between your thighs. Poking out his tongue, he gives your slit a light lick as if he was testing out to see your reaction. You couldn’t help but suck in air, completely entranced to see what he does next. That’s when Joel dives right in, holding your lips open with his thumbs as he licks a wide stripe from the bottom of your pussy up to your clit. The wet muscle then begins to flick and twirl all around your clit but never on it. He’s so close to where you want him. But the feeling of his tongue all over your pussy is the most exquisite feeling you’ve ever had. You can’t help but roll your eyes back as you reach down and card your fingers through his hair, intertwining your fingers in his brown curls. The slight tug of his hair has Joel whimpering into your pussy. Joel lives for praise, he needs to be told how good he is so feeling you let go and hold onto him has him even harder.
You’ve never felt like this before. It’s almost as if your on a roller coaster about to go over the drop. That’s when you feel a thick finger probe your opening. Joel tests your cunt to see just how tight you are, barely able to get his finger inside of you, “Relax baby ‘sokay it’s supposed to feel good.” He says as he works his finger into you more. Once he’s able to insert his finger, he lets it sit there for a beat before he starts pumping his finger in and out. The feeling causing your whole body to heat up, at first it hurt but now. Oh fuck now, it feels so incredibly good. You start breathing harder, moaning more, legs start to shake as Joel begins to finger you even harder. You feel your wetness gush out of you and soon you feel yourself go over the drop of a roller coaster you’ve found yourself on.
“Fuck that’s it baby fuck yea you’re ready for me now” Joel says breathlessly, excited to pop your pretty little cherry. Taking his finger out, he quickly gets off the bed and takes his overalls off revealing his thick, hard cock that’s already weeping with precum.
Joel takes himself in hand, giving his dick a few pumps, “This is all for you angel. Gonna make that cunt mine.” He says as he gets back on the bed, pulling you down so your on your back, underneath him. Still high off of your orgasm, all you can do is lay there. Your whole body feels like jelly. You feel Joel swipe his cock through your folds a few times before you feel him start to push the tip in. That’s when your whole body seizes up from the sharp pain.
“Ouch! Wait! Please, it hurts!” You try to plead with him, your words cause him to stop for a second as he looks down where your bodies are connected.
“Shh baby it’ll be over soon. The pain doesn’t last long. Just take it like a big girl.” He says, “just relax f’ me”
Joel watches you take a deep breath and he plunges his cock all the way in your freshly popped pussy. The shock of it all, the pain is almost unbearable. After a few seconds of his cock being inside of you, Joel being nice enough to give you some time to adjust to him, it begins to feel . . good? You can feel his cock throb inside of you, making your pussy get wetter.
“M-move. Please” you stutter. Joel grunts at that, pleased you relaxed enough he was able to fully get inside of you in one swift thrust. He starts to thrust, going hard with no real build up to the pounding he is now unleashing on your cunt. After a few minutes of Joel thrusting on top of you, grunting and sweating in your face, his movements start to stutter.
“Oh fuck oh fuck baby I’m gonna cum I’m gonna c- uuuhhng!” He grunts as he fills your pussy with his huge load. Ropes and ropes of cum shooting deep into your womb, so much so that it starts to leak out of you.
Joel pulls himself out of you and sees his cum leaking, tsking “Now we can’t have that. Nah that needs to stay right in there.” He says as he gathers his cum on his fingers and pushes it back in your sore pussy. Once satisfied with his work, Joel sits back on his calf’s admiring you.
“So fucking pretty like this baby. But you made a goddamn mess. My sheets are all wet and bloody. You know why it’s all bloody baby?” He says in a sarcastic tone, “because I fucked you. I popped your pretty little cherry and now you belong to me.” he says snarling at you. Still, you haven’t moved a muscle, continuing to lay there scared of what he’s gonna do next now that he’s had his way with you. Joel grabs you by your arm, dragging you off the bed. Dumping you on the floor he goes to tug the sheets off his bed. Throwing the soiled sheets on the floor next to you, Joel turns and walks out of the bedroom to grab fresh sheets.
When he walks back in, that’s when you finally get some strength and stand up. Shaking like a leaf behind him as he struggles getting the fitted sheet onto his bed, you start to slowly inch you way towards the door, ready to run for your life.
All too soon, Joel finishes with the sheets and turns around only to see you standing close to the door. Staring at each other you break your eye contact to glance at the door and back at him. Joel then glances at the door and back at you right as you lunge towards the exit letting out a scream as you do so. Except Joel manages to slam his body into the door before you get there, shutting it with his body as he grabs you by the arm again, “aht now what do you think your doing sugar? Just gonna ride me hard and put me away wet? You’re mine now, you’re gonna keep your sweet little ass in my house. Warm my bed!” He tells you, shaking you with each word as if it’ll shake some sense into you.
“I wasn’t leaving! I promise! I-I I need to use the bathroom! I wanna clean myself up for you! Yea yea I wanna clean up so I smell good and look good. All for you Joel.” You try to sound convincing knowing damn well he sees right through your words. Joel just purses his lips and gives you this ‘do you think I’m that dumb?’ look. Yanking you over back over to his bed he shoves you on it.
“Get your ass up there. I’m fucking tired so we’re going to bed now. I’ll give you the grand tour of our house in the morning baby.” He says as he gets in bed next to you. Terrified you do as he says, there’s a good chance he’s a heavy sleeper and you’ll be able to sneak off once he’s asleep. Joel pulls the blanket over the two of you, you on your back and him on his side facing you. Once under the blanket, Joel wraps his arm around you, giving you a tight squeeze.
“Sweet dreams sugar and welcome to your new life.” He says in a sleepy voice.
🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃
Joel managed to keep his arm wrapped around you all night long. The sun is starting to come up and you haven’t been able to get away all night. That’s when Joel grunts in his sleep and rolls over, releasing you from his grasp.
This is it! This is my chance! I gotta go before he wakes up! Oh my god oh fuck okay I can do this. I will do this, you think as you slowly slip out from underneath the blanket and pour yourself slowly out of the bed. Joel continues to snore, oblivious to your actions. Walking on tip toes you make it to the door, stopping to check to make sure Joel hasn’t heard you yet. You manage to crack open the door just a little before it starts to creek. Scared, you stop all movement. Staying absolutely frozen to the spot, you hear Joel stop snoring and start to move around. After what felt like a century, Joel begins to snore again. Your heart has never beat so fast in your life. Taking a deep breath you continue on your top toes out of the bedroom into a hallway. Moving as quickly and quietly as you can, you walk past a couple of bedrooms before making it to a set of stairs.
Oh my god I’m doing it! I’m so close! Thank god!! Okay okay I’ve got this! You give yourself a pep talk in your head as you make your way downstairs and over to the front door. Fucking hell. There’s so many locks!! Shit shit okay calm down! Start with the first one and work your way up. You begin to unlock the bottoms lock. Click. Whew! Okay now next lock. As your turning the lock you hear the floor creek behind you. And that’s when you feel him at your back.
“Now where the hell do you think your going?” Comes the gruff voice of a man who woke up to his new woman sneaking out.
🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃
“A new body has just been discovered. This is coming a week after the discovery of four new victims of the Scare Crow killer. A female, believed to be in her twenties, has been found impaled by a wooden post, her body dismembered and limbs sown back on and gutted, dressed up as a scarecrow.”
Joel sits down at his kitchen table with a bowl of cereal, watching the little tv he has sitting on the counter to keep him company. Huffing at todays news as he digs in, “It’s a shame. I liked that one. Really hoped she keep my bed warm for a lot longer.” He says out loud as milk drips down his chin.
A/n: whew! Okay this is a hefty boy! This literally came from @multiversed-daydreamer going “I need farmer Joel to be a serial killer and chase people in the corn maze” as soon as I read that, Farmer Joel was born. Obviously this is very much horror, I took inspo from horror movies. I kept returning to the 2003 Texas Chainsaw Massacre and the 1995 Texas chainsaw: the next generation while writing this, while also using other slasher movie elements. This is a one shot. I doubt I’ll ever return to farmer Joel but I did have fun writing this and just going balls to the wall with the horror lol
I’m not going to tag anybody just because of the nature of this. 💜
#Joel Miller#serial killer!joel#pedro pascal#joel miller x reader#horror writing#horrorblr#spooky fic#spooky season#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal cinematic universe#tlou#joel miller fic#dark!joel miller
200 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fic Recs - Joel Miller (series)
fic recs for completed and ongoing series starring Joel Miller
Key: 🏴 = dark, 💕 = fluff, ⛓ = rough/bdsm elements, 💀 = dead dove do not eat
Mind the warnings, and please read responsibly. you control your own media consumption.
All Fic Recs | TLOU Fic Recs | Joel one-shots pt. 1 & pt. 2
dark!Joel
*note: if fics fit multiple categories but contain dark!Joel, they will go here only.
🏴💀slasher!joel by @toxicanonymity (ongoing)
summary: serial killer Joel Miller picks you up with his tow truck and you end up fighting (and fucking) for your life.
🏴⛓💀 raider!joel by @toxicanonymity (ongoing)
summary: Stockholm syndrome on your end, it isn't time that does it on his. Joel saves you from bad men, but claims you for himself and takes you with him. You're his, and he won't let anyone forget it. His survival persona starts to crack, and he gets softer with you, but even more possessive and protective. Emotionally, this is quite a slow burn. Smut wise, not so much.
🏴💀 bullet for you darlin' by @kewwrites (ongoing)
summary: After surviving on your own for so long, when you're no longer useful for trade Joel decides to take something a little more personal from you.
🏴💀 blessed be the fruit by @romana-after-dark (ongoing)
summary: A few decades into Gilead’s conception, you head into your first posting as a handmaid after an affair with a guardian landed you in trouble. Determined to keep your head low in order to keep your son safe, you take on the moniker of OfJoel. Commander Miller has very little to do with you and mrs. Miller regards you with disgust, however you find solace in an unlikely friendship with Commander Miller’s daughter from a handmaid 14 years ago, Ellie who just got done with wives school. You and your friend, Ofthomas start teacher her and her friend Reilly under her mothers nose. Slowly, Commander Miller begins spending time with you and you begin to learn more about the man he was before and an affair begins outside the confines of the ceremony. Although initially you go along with it out if survival, you find yourself falling for the version of Joel you saw in these late night rendezvous.
Which Joel is really him, and how will he react when his own daughters secrets are revealed?
🏴💀 vampire!Joel series by @toxicanonymity (ongoing)
summary: vampire!Joel kidnaps you and tries to keep you.
🏴💀 smother by @beardedjoel (ongoing)
summary: can you hold a man as both your savior to be worshipped and the monster that he is?
🏴 carnal by @pascalsbby
summary: You thought you had it all figured out before him. Animals. Tender, primal flesh. That’s what we are at the end of the day, no? Fucking, testing one another, and then eating each other alive, heart first. Maybe the heart is the sweetest part of the body- or maybe it’s just the easiest to get to. You knew you wanted to be completely devoured by him. You wanted to fill the space between his teeth.
bdsm
fics with explicitly d/s dynamics or play, not just rough sex/kinks, dom!Joel unless otherwise noted
⛓ strawberry by @joelsgreys (ongoing)
summary: a series of connected stand-alones following daddy dom!Joel and sub!reader through different elements of their dynamic.
⛓ you wanted this by @alwaysmicado (complete?)
summary: Joel and you have a fun dynamic going. You provoke him, he punishes you - you both get off. When you meet him after you’ve fucked someone else, he decides to show you who you belong to. It’s all fun and games, right?
qz!Joel
something wretched about this by @covetyou (complete)
summary: Your father has been sick since before the world went to shit, but being sick now just made things even harder. Ration cards were few and far between, and the pills to keep him comfortable were even scarcer. When he can't pay up, what lengths will you go to to protect your entire world? Featuring Joel Miller; self appointed pharmacist, medication supplier, drug dealer and total, utter slut.
the menu by @tightjeansjavi (ongoing)
Joel Miller has a menu concocted just for his customers. Pills? He’s got ‘em. Guns? Ammo? Name your price. Booze to warm the broken souls and hearts of the QZ? give him a holler. Everything comes with a price, of course. Joels got somethin’ special on his menu. Somethin’ that he doesn’t advertise freely. Y’gotta want it. Y’gotta have a desire that matches his own, only then will he offer what you seek.
jackson!Joel
A Safe Haven by @joelsgreys (ongoing)
summary: When Joel Miller and Ellie Williams return to Jackson, Wyoming to begin their new lives, the last thing Joel expects is to catch the eye of the thriving community’s equine veterinarian. Young, beautiful, and married, Joel knows that he should stay away from a woman like you, but he can’t help but to be drawn to you like a moth to a flame. As you start growing closer to both Joel and Ellie, you find out all about the secrets they both carry—and they find out you’ve been hiding a secret or two of your own.
mall rats by @strang3lov3 (ongoing)
summary: you and Joel are assigned to scavenge an old mall. (well, you're assigned and Joel has to accompany you for backup). sarcasm, bickering-as-foreplay, and more ensue.
Mr. Miller series by @tremendum (ongoing)
summary: six months before you ran yourself into any trouble with somebody - that’s no easy feat, considering your track record, so you like to call it a win anyways. but boy, talk about a rocky start with someone. Tommy’s goddamn brother, no less.
slow hands by @tightjeansjavi (ongoing)
summary: Joel Miller thinks that your coffee shop in Jackson is a bit too “frivolous” for his taste until Tommy tells him one day that it’s the best cup of coffee that he’ll ever have. Little does he know..he’s going to get more than just a cup of coffee when he finally meets you. You soon find out that the grumpy old man with a rambunctious teenager, is hiding sugar sweet softness under layers of hardness.
Fear of God by @netherfeildren (complete)
summary: What was monstrousness? What was it, but a certainty that there existed within you multitudes of desires, needs, guilts, impulses – humanity? At the end of the world, when the dust has finally settled, Joel grapples with what it is to take hold of your own monstrosity – your own humanity – and live with it. And what it is to bear that truth in the palm of your hand held towards the person you love, offer it to them, and have it be accepted for what it was. Courage, above all else, it is courage that is necessary to go on.
angst
clouds by @softlyspector (two shot)
summary: Joel comes home to find you telling your daughter a bedtime story.
Pink by @netherfeildren (complete)
summary: Humanism: an outlook or system of thought attaching prime importance to human rather than divine or supernatural matters. Humanist beliefs stress the potential value and goodness of human beings, emphasize common human needs, and seek solely rational ways of solving human problems.
dinner and diatribes by @tightjeansjavi (ongoing)
summary: you’re the kind of love that Joel Miller has been dreaming of all his life
fluff
[yikes I do not read enough fluff. send me your faves pls. coming soon?]
no outbreak/AU
New in Town by @justagalwhowrites (ongoing)
summary: When you move to Austin for work, your best friend Sarah recommends that you hang out with her dad, Joel, to get to know the area. Sarah just never mentioned the fact that her dad is just your type.
ravish by @psychedelic-ink (complete?)
summary: Joel, only now starting to feel the impending sense of loneliness, decides to listen to Tommy and sign up on an online streaming service called Ravish.
a lover's pinch by @hier--soir (ongoing)
summary: a one-night stand with a charming texan turns into something much more thrilling when you discover he is your new college professor. joel miller is entirely off limits. but now that you’ve had a taste, will you be able to keep your hands to yourselves?
sugar daddy joel by @notjustjavierpena (ongoing)
summary: Joel Miller, a walking menace, buys you pretty things in exchange for shoving his cock in you.
the checklist by @thetriumphantpanda (ongoing)
summary: Your new boyfriend Joel finds your hidden stash of porn, full of pages with their corners folded over, marking the things you like the most. Expecting him to feel bad about finding things you’re into, things you haven’t asked for from him, you’re surprised when he offers to help you tick them off.
meet me in the back series by @atticrissfinch (ongoing)
summary: When the gas station clerk refuses to sell you alcohol after a shitty day, you need to get creative
Divine Dynasty by @cavillscurls (ongoing)
summary: Your father had been a loyal asset to the Miller Clan for his entire life. After his passing, Joel feels a responsibility for you and your safety; inviting you further into his world, and your desires.
Law of Attraction by @mandoisapunk (ongoing)
summary: you and your criminal law professor have an undeniable attraction toward each other. so, it's only natural that you both explore that attraction... but navigating a dynamic like that is never as simple as it seems.
online friends by @walkintotheriveranddisappear (complete)
summary: hot single dilfs in your area want to chat, and you're more than willing to comply (aka: anonymous sex chatting with joel)
Catalyst by @ezrasbirdie (ongoing; ft. Frankie Morales)
summary: After falling into bed together on the night of Frankie’s 40th birthday party, you, Joel, and Frankie start a relationship.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic recs#joel miller fic#tlou fic recs#the last of us fic#the last of us fic recs
188 notes
·
View notes
Text
You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 11
Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.
Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader
“You're back.” I pointed out the obvious with a warm smile. I was genuinely ecstatic to see him so soon. I just hoped he wouldn’t get the wrong idea about me being in his billiards room.
“I've got some, uh, good news and some terrible news.” He walked slowly in my direction in dramatic fashion. When he approached where I stood he ran his fingers through the hair that fell near my face and maintained the slightest smirk.
“I guess you're supposed to ask for the bad news first, right.” I was just relieved he hadn't asked what I was doing downstairs.
“The bad news is that school got shut down again on my ride in.” He hesitated, looking down and then back up at me. “Body of a another woman was found not far from the first one on campus.”
“What?” I felt my face grow hot and my stomach sank. I hadn’t realized I placed my hand on my cheek until Dr. Miller put a hand over mine. When our fingers entwined I squeezed his hand.
“Were there any details? Is this a serial killer?” I felt a lump form in my throat.
“Nah. You have to knock off a couple more to get that title.” He grew slightly more serious. “But, honestly, I don't think you should be alone - anywhere right now.”
I nodded in agreement. “ Okay.” I let out a deep breath. “What's the good news?”
He smiled and began stripping the tie from his shirt. “I got to come home.. to you.”
I knew I was glowing. There was no sense in trying to hide it. I wasn't embarrassed or coy.
Dr. Miller's kisses would never get old. When he leaned down to touch his lips to mine, I melted into him with closed eyes and a thirst for his touch.
“Let me make you breakfast,” he whispered against my lips before pulling back a few inches.
“I should be making you breakfast.”
He tapped under my chin with his first two fingers. “What kind of host would I be if I allowed that.” Our lips met another time and he wandered around the island while offering me a seat facing a flat top stove.
Dr. Miller removed a pan from a lower cabinet and set it on the island. “After breakfast I'll take you down to check out another floor of the house.”
I swallowed hard and felt my body tense. The blueprint in the H.H. Holmes book immediately came to mind. I got a chill wondering what the maze portion of the house plans were. Without allowing my active imagination to run amuck, I simply nodded in agreement and smiled.
“Okay.”
Did he see me checking out his bookshelf? He has cameras doesn't he? He must have seen me with the blueprint.
Dr. Miller leaned across the way as far as he could. I met him halfway and pecked his lips before he whispered again. “I think you're going to like it.”
…
“Is there anything you can't do?” I asked, wiping the corner of my mouth with a napkin. “This might be the best French toast I've ever had.”
Dr. Miller sat beside me at the oversized kitchen island, smirking as he sipped on his coffee. He turned his body, slightly to face mine.. “My mother has all the best cooking secrets. I thankfully inherited them.”
Despite feeling full, I swirled the last bite around a pool of syrup on the plate and forked the final piece into my mouth.
“You should stay here,” Dr. Miller said, taking the conversation to a one-eighty, drawing my gaze back to his eyes. “Until all this blows over.”
“All what?”
“The murders.”
I felt guilty for letting that colossal event all but slip from my mind. “Oh, yeah.” I shook my head.
“You don't have to, but I would feel better knowing you're here than in a house with no alarm system that anyone could get into if they wanted to.” His eyes could have turned me to stone. They appeared as if they could quite literally pierce my mind and see what was going on inside of my head.
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” I wanted to stay. “I’d love to stay.” I smiled, “I feel safe when I'm with you.”
Dr. Miller gave a nod and eyed the floor for a second or two before staring back up. “If this is all too much, let me know. I'm working on not being so demanding.”
“I don't mind that.” I shook my head and continued to look him directly in the eye and rested a hand on his knee. “And it's not too much.”
Dr. Miller looked down and back up. He lifted my hand, squeezing my fingers before placing a single kiss across my knuckles. “Let me show you the lower level.”
“Okay.” I pulled him in for a kiss. I simply couldn't help it. “Mmm.. you taste like syrup.”
Dr. Miller chuckled, sending vibrations across my lips. He stepped down off the high chair and held a hand out to help me down.
“So, you’ll stay?” he asked.
I nodded, “I’d love to.”
“Do you want to take the stairs or the old elevator?” He turned with a smirk, knowing how impressive that must have sounded - not that he needed to do anything else to impress me. That ship had sailed.
“I'll have to go with the old elevator.”
“Come on.” The warmth from his palm as towed me by the hand made me sigh. It was all so new to feel like this and every little touch felt like fireworks, even the innocent ones.
We wandered down a short hallway past another closed door, and hidden in a little nook was the elevator. I would have never guessed that was what it was until Dr. Miller gave a tug on a lever on the wall.
There was some clunking around from behind the wall and then suddenly the noise stopped and he reached for a worn, silver handle by the floor, yanking a rectangular door upward like a garage bay.
I glanced inside the small dark space. In the center of it was a rope that I could tell acted like a pulley system. When I glanced back at Dr. Miller, he nodded toward the opening.
“Get in.”
“In there?” My eyebrows must have raised as high as my hairline.
“We can both fit.”
When I hesitated he winked at me and crouched down to make his way inside. I took a deep breath and followed him. We were only an inch apart; face-to-face. There wasn't much room to move.
“You okay?” Dr. Miller asked.
I nodded, looking down as the floor creaked beneath us. “Is this going to hold our weight?”
“We’ll find out.” He closed the door and pressed a red button on the wall, leaving us with a fiery red glow inside.
The old elevator thrusted me forward, making my body collide with his. He caught me and I looked up at him, partially anxious, partially content. I felt like my emotions were constantly tugging me in different directions.
“Relax.” Dr. Miller held me against him and I felt his chest heave in a deep breath. “We can take the stairs back up later if this bothers you.”
I closed my eyes, inhaling his scent in the darkness as the side of my face pressed against his chest. My anxiety dropped with the gentle stroking of his fingertips down the center of my back.
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.
We descended to what felt like the center of the earth before the elevator came to a halt. I only separated myself from Dr. Miller in order to let him yank the door upward again. He then motioned with his arm toward the exit.
“After you.”
I let out a deep sigh and stepped out onto white, tiled floors. And then my eyes extended beyond the tiles onto the teal, blue water that sat still in an oversized swimming pool.
Well, this is not what I expected, I thought.
I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. This wasn't the maze from the blueprint, or some secret room. It was a lavish, indoor swimming pool.
My eyes traveled to a jacuzzi at the far end of the pool as well as a sauna and a clear, see-through shower side-by-side.
When Dr. Miller’s hand touched my shoulder I jumped, making him pull back almost immediately.
I huffed a laugh and put a hand over my chest. “I'm sorry,” I said to him. “The ride down got my heart rate up.”
“I know this is probably a lot.” He nodded. “I'm sorry.”
“Sorry?” I shook my head and looked around. “You've been so generous. My brain just hasn't caught up yet to all of this.” I motioned with my hand around the room and looked at him. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being.. such a good host.” I smiled. “For making me breakfast.. and taking care of me.”
“You can make it up to me by staying awhile.” He looked down and reached for my hand again.
“I can do that,” I said with a nod, adding, “No work until Monday.”
“And what are we going to do until then?” Dr. Miller's eyes squinted and he smirked when I giggled.
“This really is amazing,” I gushed as we walked beside the pool. “I feel stupid saying this but I feel like I'm in a movie.”
“I know you probably have questions,” he acknowledged, “Like how can I afford all of this.” Dr. Miller's eyes found mine.
“It’s none of my business.” I shook my head.
“I’ll explain,” Dr. Miller assured me, and then added, “One day.”
“Okay.” I nodded and managed a little smile, seeming to ease some of the tension that harbored in the muscles of his neck. It was enough for now. He unfastened the top few buttons of his shirt and his smile grew wider.
“Care for a swim?”
I wanted to, especially with Dr. Miller; but I had an embarrassing confession.
“Yes,” I told him and then eyed the body of water beside where we stood, “But I might have to stay in the low end.”
He chuckled and placed his hands on his hips, “Why’s that?”
“Because I.. I can’t really.. swim.”
Dr. Miller’s eyebrows raised, “You can’t swim?”
I shook my head. “Not really. I always used to just.. doggy paddle.. and then I’d kind of sink.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle at my childish revelation, and I giggled right along side him. I gave a shrug and he looked me up and down. Dr. Miller began to undo the rest of his shirt until the center gave a view of his chest. Without warning he reached for the zipper on the gray hoodie he’d given me to wear and slowly let it run down past my breasts toward my belly button before it finally separated down at my hips.
I chewed my bottom lip and swallowed hard as tingles ignited through mg body. I hadn’t put on a bra and he gave an appreciative sigh as he drank in my figure, clearly at least a little surprised that I hadn’t put the undergarment back on. “I can show you how.”
“How to what?”
Dr. Miller pushed a laugh out of his nose and a smile crept on his face. “Swim.” He continued to undress.
“Do you have a bathing suit?” I immediately felt like it was such a stupid question, and my face reddened. He was undressing. Why the hell would I ever want him to put clothes on.
He laughed again, heartier this time as he purposely began to undo the belt on his work pants. “In about thirty seconds I intend for the two of us to take our clothes off, and then not put them back on until Monday morning.”
I opened my mouth to speak and then glanced down as he unzipped the fly of his pants. Coming from anyone else, the line wouldn’t have worked. I probably would have laughed, or thought it was funny to some degree. But, shit, I was way too enticed and attracted to Dr. Miller to even crack a smile - because I knew he was serious. And him being serious would continue to fulfill my ever growing fantasy.
I don’t know why I was suddenly shy. He wasn’t. An aching pulse began to thump between my legs when he freed his heavy, semi-erect cock from his pants. I couldn't look away. A second later Dr. Miller was stepping out of his shoes as his pants fell down to his ankles. He then peeled off his socks and slunk into the pool before resting his arms on the side, staring up at me.
“I promise I’ll go slow,” he teased, looking me in the eye, “We’ll start in the shallow end.”
My heart was racing and I took a deep breath before separating the zip up sweatshirt with my fingertips and letting it fall onto the tile floor beside Dr. Miller’s clothes.
“That’s my girl.”
His girl. I loved that already. I shoved my pants down and was suddenly thankful for the dim lighting as I attempted to confidently pace the length of the pool like a runway until I reached the little staircase that descended beneath the water. My heart was racing, moreso with each step. I wasn't at all confident enough to freely walk in my bare skin, especially in front of someone else.
When I reached the far edge of the pool, relief filtered over me. It was like a giant, soothing bath; perfect temperature without a hint of a chill. I let out a sigh as Dr. Miller made his way to me, pulling me into his arms. All anxiety drifted away. All I could focus on was his touch.
I linked my arms around the back of his neck and we kissed a long, deprived-of-each-other kiss as if we hadn’t been in each other’s company for months. He was addicting.
“My life is in your hands,” I whispered, smiling as I did.
“I won’t let you go,” he said quietly back.
Dr. Miller opened up his eyes and kept them open as he pecked my lips once more, before taking my hands and repositioning them so they were on his broad shoulders. I then felt his hands pushing up at my torso just below my breasts so my body was horizontal. He held me firmly in place and began to tread water, edging backwards deeper into the pool.
“Kick your feet,” he encouraged amidst a series of short, choppy breaths, still holding my body for support.
I did as he suggested and fully recognized when we had left the area where I could stand. I huffed a breath, feeling my anxiety climb again and he tried to put the fire out with more encouragement.
“I got you,” Dr. Miller promised again. “Just focus on me and keep kicking.”
“Don’t let me go,” I said, managing a nervous laugh.
“I won’t.” He breathed heavier, the deeper we went but never faltered. I never felt like he wouldn’t be able to keep me afloat.
“Let me know if you’re tired.”
“I’m okay.” Dr. Miller continued to tread backward and I was tempted to look over my shoulder to see how far we’d gotten, but I didn’t. From what I could see of the other side, we were getting close to halfway across the pool.
I breathed in and out, allowing him to lead me safely across. When the other end finally came within an arm’s reach, Dr. Miller planted his back against it and pulled me the rest of the way to him.
My body floated back down so we were both vertical and he placed a hand on my lower back so I pinned him against the side.
“That was a little bit of a rush,” I admitted with a deep breath and a chuckle.
Dr. Miller smiled back. “I’d rather be here teaching you how to swim than teaching the classes down at Woodbridge.” He let out a deep exhale and we kissed again. When he flipped us so my back rested against the side of the pool I giggled a little more freely.
“Well, you got your wish,” I told him, finding his lips again a second later. I felt his intensity heighten as he aggressively penetrated my lips with his tongue as his hand cupped the left side of my buttocks.
“Mmm..” he huffed a breath into my mouth and his eyes were still closed as he spoke, “You have no idea.”
I rested a hand on the side of his face. “Yes, I do.”
CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER
@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @amyispxnk @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @readingiskeepingmegoing
#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x you#joel miller x oc#joel miller x f!oc#joel#joel miller x female oc#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x original character#joel x reader#pedro pascal x oc#pedro pascal x ofc#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller professor#professor joel#protective joel#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x f!reader#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal x female reader
112 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi hun! ❤️ send you this for the no outbreak joel haunted house/haunted hayride/haunted forest one shot. thank you so much again! you are the best. 😊
HI BESTIE!!!
Love this ask so much!! I felt like New in Town Joel was the best Joel for this one, so here's BFD!Joel taking Beautiful to a haunted house because he's the kind of guy who will do anything his woman wants. And we love that for us <3
Hope this is what you're looking for!
Haunted House
You've always loved haunted houses so your boyfriend, Joel Miller, takes you to one just before Halloween. Featuring New in Town Joel Miller and set between the chapters First Thanksgiving and Second New Year.
Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller from New in Town x Female Reader from New in Town
CW: Smut! No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only
Length: 2.1k
“You’re kidding.”
“Promise you, Beautiful, I’m really not.”
You gaped at Joel as the two of you made your way from the makeshift dirt parking area to the ticket booth for the haunted manor.
“Joel,” you laughed in disbelief. “You love horror movies! How have you never been to a haunted house?”
“Haunted houses are very different things,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Movies are just in your living room or a theater, shit’s not actually there…”
You stopped in your tracks and it took Joel a second to realize he’d lost you and come to a stop, too.
“What?” He frowned.
“You’re scared.”
“No,” he scoffed a little too hard and a little too fast. “I’m not scared, I just…”
He trailed off.
“Just what?” You teased, stepping up close to him so you were just inches away from him, smiling up at him.
“Just not sure I’m gonna like feelin’ out of control,” he said, sounding a little sheepish as he tugged you against him, one hand on your waist the other cupping your cheek to tilt your head toward his.
You frowned a little. He sounded more genuinely unsure than you’d expected.
“We don’t have to go,” you said. “Really, I don’t need to do it…”
“You like your haunted houses,” he smiled a little and kissed you gently. “Want to do it with you. Besides, who knows. Maybe I’ll like it.”
“OK,” you said, still a little uncertain but you kissed him quickly, anyway. “But if you change your mind, we go home.”
He laughed a little.
“Not changing my mind, Beautiful. Let’s go get the shit scared out of us by fake serial killers.”
“Also probably clowns,” you smiled, taking his hand and leading him to the ticket booth.
Joel felt antsy behind you as you stood in line, his arms draped over your shoulders, holding your back to his front, his lips occasionally finding your temple or your cheek or the curve of your ear.
“Don’t worry, Baby,” you smiled back over your shoulder at him and gave his forearm a squeeze. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“Gonna use you as a human shield at the clown part,” he teased.
You laughed as the two of you were guided into the first room of the haunted house, wallpaper peeling and rotting wood exposed. A lamp flickered ominously from the corner and there was a creak from a shadowy spot near the hallway on the other side of the room. Your heart rate picked up and you squealed a little, too excited to hold it in.
Joel laughed.
“Really don’t understand you sometimes, Beautiful.”
You smiled, taking his hand again.
“Away we go!”
You kept his hand tight in yours and crept across the room, watching and waiting for something to jump out at you.
The two of you almost made it to the hallway when a woman leapt out of the darkest corner, screaming and reaching for you. You jumped and yelped and Joel tugged you against him before he laughed and relaxed his hold on you.
“See?” You said as the woman snarled and reached but kept her distance. “It’s fun!”
“Maybe,” he said, keeping an eye on the woman as you led the way to the hall. “Still think you’re weird.”
In the hall, you were met with a tall, knife wielding man, making you yelp and making Joel jump between you and the would-be attacker as the pair of you ran past him and into the next room.
“See, I can tell this isn’t an actual horror movie,” he said, a little breathless once there was a moment of quiet.
“Yeah?” You asked, sticking close to him, on the look out for the next fright. “How?”
“We fuck way too much to survive a slasher,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your temple as you laughed. “It’s always the virgins who make it out alive.”
The next room you stumbled into was filled with sloppy, neon paint and ominous organ music.
“Thought you were kidding about the damn clowns,” Joel muttered. You didn’t get a chance to reply before a clown jumped out at you, cackling as he reached and groped.
You ran, too busy holding Joel’s hand and watching the first clown to fully watch where you were going and ended up running head first into another clown, his face paint streaked with blood and teeth sharpened to points. You screamed and jumped back into Joel, who caught you and held you close. You dodged the second clown, pulling Joel along with you as you ducked below the clown’s arm and ran for the next door.
The zombie room freaked you out the most, skin hanging from his face as he scrambled across the floor for you in an eerie, inhuman way. It was so sudden and from such an unexpected place you shrieked and froze, Joel tucking you behind him and guiding you to the next room as you peered around his arm to the man snarling at the two of you.
It had been years since you’d gone to a haunted house with a guy but you found yourself getting turned on, being so close to Joel when you were scared, watching him instinctively protect you - even though you knew there wasn’t anything to actually protect you from.
The feeling got stronger the longer you were in the haunted house, almost a distraction by the time you reached the last room. Once you were headed back to the car, your panties were wet and you were trying to remember just how far of a drive it was back to the house.
“That wasn’t too bad,” Joel said, his arm draped around your shoulders. “Some of the noises you make…”
You smirked a little.
“Bet you could make me make other noises.”
“Oh yeah?” He asked, voice low.
“Think there was an empty park few miles down the road,” you said, turning to face him, walking backwards and guiding his hands to your waist. “We could see if there are any serial killers looking for hapless, horny victims in cars.”
“You seriously tryin’ to get me to fuck you in a parking lot?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Are you arguing?”
“Absolutely not,” he growled, pulling you into him and kissing you. “Never gonna argue with that.”
You laughed and went alongside him again, tucked under his arm.
“I will say, after that adventure, I feel confident in my zombie apocalypse plan,” you said, lacing your fingers with his that were dangling over your shoulder.
“You have a zombie apocalypse plan?” He laughed.
“You don’t?” You frowned at him, skeptical. “How many times have we watched Shaun of the Dead and you don’t have a zombie apocalypse plan?”
“Apparently I don’t need one,” he teased. “You got it covered. Alright, fill me in, what’s the plan.”
“Well, first, we make sure we’re in the same place,” you said. “Because you’re clearly going to be my best hope at survival.”
“Sure,” he said and you could tell he was fighting a smile.
“Then we go get Sarah.”
“Naturally.”
“Then Tommy and Maria,” you continued. “Because I feel like between you and Tommy we’ll do pretty well.”
“Feelin’ like you’ve got more confidence in my zombie fighting skills than is really appropriate,” he was fully smiling now.
“Nah,” you waved him off. “You’d do great. Anyway, we haul ass to Galveston, steal a ship, ride it out on the water.”
“See that part’s not bad,” he said. “You all wet in a swim suit all the time. I can get behind that. Alright, guess we can adopt your zombie plan as the official Miller zombie plan.”
“A vital part of any household, truly,” you smiled as he opened your car door for you before getting in the driver’s seat himself.
“You serious about the park?” He asked, brows raised.
You just reached across to his lap, taking hold of his thick, half hard cock through his jeans, stroking him slowly, firmly.
“Depends,” you said, voice darkening with want. “Think you can make it to the house?”
He groaned.
“Park it is.”
When you made it there, he didn’t even have a chance to turn the car off when you’d unbuckled your seatbelt and all but dove into his lap, taking his cock into your mouth with a satisfied moan. His hand flew to the back of your head as you took him into your throat, sucking him and working his shaft with the press of your tongue.
“Christ, Beautiful,” he was already panting and you pressed your thighs together, looking for some kind of friction, some kind of relief from the needy ache inside you. “Didn’t know a haunted house would get you this hot n’ bothered…”
You moaned around his cock and sucked hard, his fingers knotting in your hair as he guided you up and down his shaft, swallowing the salty taste of him that made your mouth water.
“Not gonna last, you keep doin’ that,” his voice was strained, thick. You sucked him harder and his hips thrust up into your mouth. “Oh shit, Baby…”
You could feel him stiffen and he yanked your head off him and you pouted at him, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.
“Got another place I’d rather come if that’s alright with you,” he panted, looking at you with wide eyes in the moonlight. Even in the near total darkness you could tell his pupils were blown.
“Fuck, please,” you said, kicking off your shoes and yanking down your leggings, Joel watching hungrily while stroking himself, still dripping with your spit as he did.
“Goddamn, need inside you Baby,” he managed as you clambered over the center console and straddled him. You aligned him at your entrance and took him into yourself in one firm, swift motion and you both moaned in relief at it, the feeling of being joined. You sat still on top of him for a moment, adjusting to the size of him. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you’d fucked him, he was so thick and long he always stretched you in a way that was just on the pleasurable side of pain, the initial burn satisfying as he utterly filled you. As the burn faded, you started to ride him, his hands on your hips as you set a heady and needy pace over him.
Joel brought a hand to your front, his thumb pressing into your clit, his fingers cupping your sex, spreading around where he was entering you, making you moan.
“Fuck,” he groaned, the hand that was still on your hip lowering his seat back so he could see where you were joined before moving to your thigh. “Look so damn pretty taking this cock.”
“Joel,” you moaned, your body getting tight around him. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna fucking come…”
“Good,” he thrust up into you. “Make me fucking feel it, Baby. Want to feel you come, want to feel you come all over me.”
He pressed harder into your clit and it was like all the heat in your body suddenly centered on your core, everything going molten and tight before you came apart around him, your hips stilling over him as your pussy throbbed around him.
“Fuck, there you go,” he fucked up into you through your orgasm, pressing deep, working your clit. “Gonna fill you up, leave myself so deep in you…”
“Please,” you panted, still not able to control your body as you rode out the last of your climax. “Need it Joel, need you to come for me.”
“Fuck!” He gasped and you felt him press deep and throb hard inside you, the heat of him pumping into you over and over as your pussy gave his thick cock a final milking squeeze.
You slumped over onto his chest as he finished, his length still buried deep inside you, both of you panting for breath.
“Alright,” he said after a minute, his hands going to your bare ass as he leaked out of your pussy. “Decided I love haunted houses.”
You laughed.
“Really?” You teased, kissing his neck.
“Oh yeah,” he said, still breathless. “If it gets you to fuck me in the car like we’re damn teenagers, it’s my new favorite thing. Gonna have to do this every Halloween.”
“Every Halloween?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him.
“Every one,” he smiled. “As long as I spend them with you.”
You smiled back.
“Think I like the sound of that.”
He sat up just enough that his lips could reach yours.
“You and me both, Beautiful.”
#fanfic#joel miller x female reader#kit answers#send asks#new in town#smut fic#halloween fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x oc
147 notes
·
View notes
Text
mdni 18+! seriously pls go away if ur under 18! fall works for every day of october! some scary, some cozy, and almost always smutty. probably shouldn’t have called this ‘kinktober’ as not every day will be a kink, yolo. a lot of works will include ddlg themes, size kink, daddy kink, fem!reader and hyper feminine themes. you are responsible for your own media consumption. all pieces will have warnings at the beginning of their works. wishing you all the spookiest, ghoulish october ever! 🙀
masterlist ! navigation ! support my work
01. The Lion and The Lamb, Part One. (vampire!king!eddie munson x princess!reader)
02. Subdrop (dom!steve harrington x sub!reader)
03. Sapphic Age Gap (MILF!Nancy Wheeler x reader)
04. Trick or Treat (Daddy!Bucky Barnes x Little!reader) [plot has changed to a halloween party!]
05. First time parents (Dad!Steve Harrington x Mum!reader)
06. Sugar Daddy (CEO!Steve Rogers x reader)
07. Size Kink (Daddy!Ari Levinson x reader)
08. Overstimulation (Bodyguard!James Potter x Princess!reader)
09. Age Gap (DILF!Joel Miller x reader)
10. Dacryphilia (Daryl Dixon x younger!reader)
11. Hot cocoa and kisses (Daddy!Ari Levinson x Little!reader)
12. Mommy Kink (Nancy Wheeler x reader)
13. Daddy Kink (Daryl Dixon x reader)
14. Dry Humping (Eddie Munson x reader)
15. The Lion and The Lamb, Part Two. (Vampire!King!Eddie Munson x Princess!reader)
16. Stockholm Syndrome (dark!rick Grimes x reader)
17. Make-up sex (Remus Lupin x reader)
18. Cock Warming (Ron Weasley x reader)
19. A/B/O (Alpha!Steve Harrington x reader)
20. Babysitter (Joel Miller x reader)
21. Serial Killers (Ghostface!Steve Harrington x Ghostface!Eddie Munson x reader)
22. Safe Word (Steve Harrington x crybaby!reader)
23. Body Worship (Joel Miller x reader)
24. On The Run (Psycho!Eddie Munson x Psycho!reader)
25. Dumbification (Daryl Dixon x crybaby!reader)
26. Stepbrother (Stepbrother!Peter Parker x Stepsister!reader)
27. Thigh Riding (Dom!Remus Lupin x Sub!reader)
28. Brat Taming (Dom!Eddie x Sub!reader)
29. Refrigerator light (Dad!Steve Harrington x Mum!reader)
30. Pet Play (Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!reader)
31. The Lion and The Lamb, Part Three. (Vampire!King!Eddie x Princess!reader)
#<3 eddie munson#<3 steve harrington#<3 ari levinson#<3 steve rogers#a/b/o#dark! :0#<3 bucky barnes#multiple characters#<3 remus lupin#<3 james potter#<3 nancy wheeler#<3 peter parker#kinktober#smut#kinktober smut#stranger things smut#steve harrington smut#october writing challenge#eddie munson smut#nancy wheeler smut#ari levinson smut#little!reader#crybaby!reader#tw: daddy kink#vampire!eddie#but daddy i love him#age gap smut#abby’s kinktober !#<3 rick grimes
284 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
paigefansuk
Paige Fans UK
wetumblinme
Untitled
myastudies
mya studies
bonafidesoul
Bonafide Logs
tigodka-blog
Без названия