#Convo Isabel
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what i wouldn't give to get cob from izzy's pov..
#i can't stop thinking about it. i want to know what convos she had with simon and why she reacted the way she did at magnus's party#i want to know her thoughts and opinions and her insecurities#i want to hear the confidence in her voice and be able to tell the difference when it becomes a thin facade over her fears#i miss my girl#isabelle lightwood#city of bones#cob#tsc#the shadowhunter chronicles#tmi#the mortal instruments#jules talks (and talks)
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the most unrealistic part of cohf was how little (almost to none) interaction we had between izzy and alec post malec breakup and make up era. she's his ride or die, don't forget she fully concocted a plan and drag people to annoy magnus with voicemails and also storm the loft of a 600 years old experienced warlock with nothing but her whip, heels, good hair and an alec lightwood supremacy banner so why wouldn't she have some qualm after they get back together
#malec#alec lightwood#magnus bane#isabelle lightwood#tmi#the mortal instruments#the shadowhunter chronicles#shadowhunters#tsc#i mean we have scenes between these twos but it mainly to establish sizzy further#also scene of alec re post breakup was handed to jace#like him going to magnus house#and him having that convo with alec in edom#lost opportunity fr
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House Neville.
#House Neville#medieval england#Neville family#the wars of the roses#the cousin's war#cecily neville#richard neville#anne neville#isabel neville#edward iv#richard iii#Cunty and northern#My favorite convo#the white queen#the white princess
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News traveled quickly in the Princes' inner circle, word of the coven siege's success and the First Daughter's resurrection sending Lust at his brother's doorstep for a visit before making a beeline for Isabel's current location miles away. He shot Azriel a short text letting the dream witch know where he was headed and then arrived at the beach house in the blink of an eye. The mansion hardly reached the level of the Golden Trio's mansion, but the beach itself in where it resided was beautiful. Pride permitted him access through the front door shockingly judging from his stuffy brother's imposing overprotective gatekeeping. He obviously permitted no visitor looking for Bel's help and it's nothing the witch can be blamed for. Lust strolled into the parlor, a bag of bakery goods and junk food looped through his arm before plopping it down on the coffee table in front of Isabel. "Cupcakes are courtesy of Gluttony, the other's store bought shit." He took in the witch with hands on hips, a relaxed smile touching his mouth. "Vacation's already a hot look on you, sister. I missed you."
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Her brief mansion stay already carried an enlightening wealth of information passed by Envy's knowledge, absorbing the key bits much like a sponge would. She missed very much and while her family including Wrath remained at the forefront of her mind, there was one more person she seemed anxious to meet. Isabel Bishop. The woman who dragged Death from his realm after a disturbance with her and Greed's intertwined string. The Prince was kind enough pointing her in the right direction, a vacation home a little ways from the city. Celeste met Pride practically at the door as he stood much like a sentry would. He was surprised to see her in the flesh, but they exchanged a few words before he nudged her toward the upstairs bedroom. She thanked the Prince generously and made the trek up the steps, nervousness oddly coursing through her veins. Cel stopped at the doorway, wrapping a fist against the wood as her gaze fell upon the woman. "I apologize for disturbing your vacation, Isabel," She offered Bel a kind smile, "But I thought this is a long overdue meeting. My name is Celeste."
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If you are to a point where you are exhausted from these visitors, just say the word, my darling.
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"Isabel, my darling!" The name echoed across the air as Angelus made his way down the corridor in search of his queen, the messenger sent from Hell's border protection causing the demon's wheels to spin. It isn't often the King is presented distressing news that raised abnormal alarms within him, but if what they spoke of rang true, it could mean serious disaster. Any problem as major as this would traditionally have been presented in front of the ruling royals, however, Gluttony thought the situation presented a discreet exchange and his General was rarely wrong. Still, he did not choose any kingdom-altering decisions without conferring with his wife. A crown doesn't necessarily require weighing the responsibility on just one pair of shoulders. They were a team, well revered for their benevolence and generous ruling, and she became the epitome of what a Queen of Hell should represent. Those who cast their warm gaze upon the husband and wife could see how deep his love went for Bel, any Prince strived that their relationship reached a level of dedication Angelus bowed at her feet.
Angelus breathed a short sigh of relief as he finally located the woman in the council chambers, a meeting just wrapping up when she held the power conducting one without his attendance. The members began clearing the room, giving their King a courteous bow as they passed him. He greeted each of them with a polite head nod of acknowledgement before his eyes graced over Isabel's form. No matter the years, she left him breathless. "Bel." He couldn't conceal the smile speaking her name despite the dire circumstances. It soon disappeared, however. Angelus approached her anyway, pressing a small kiss to his Queen's cheek. "I bring news from General Gluttony." The King began softly, "There have been unusual reports at the border. Various soldiers have spotted it, but they are uncertain what it is and where it came from. A rift in the barrier has started developing. I could use another's opinion on the matter."
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"Knock, knock, can I come in?" Josephine lightly rapped on Isabel's door and slowly opened it, the witch's clothes tucked underneath her left arm, "Sorry about all of that, I wish we officially met under less awkward circumstances. I'm Josephine." The succubus moved across the room, gently placing the clothes on Bel's bed, "Do you need any help packing?"
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I really do not like that look on your face right now, Isabel. What happened?
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Now, I know you didn't just bust down my door and come barging into my house without knocking. Are you not supposed to be on vacation?
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I have no problem ripping him a new one, even a God who can and would fuck me up with a snap of his fingers. Your life is in his hands and everything he does just like his life rests in yours, that can't be easy feeling the pressure. I will do more than burn his world to the ground, I could liquidize his insides into mush and bury him so far in the dirt, he's choking on it alive. Why bother taking care of myself when you were always around doing that for me? Seriously, Bel, you slapped the sense into me and sent me on my way as many times as my own siblings have.
Maybe a little of both, but if he's a dick first then rip him a new one– respect follows respect. I wouldn't have, no. It doesn't seem so bad, being tied to a seemingly immortal Prince but god forbid one of us chokes on a fucking grape and the other dies. Don't underestimate a threat that comes from my lips, Kai, Envy knows I will take his world and burn it to the fucking ground if I ever hear that he coerced her in any way to get what he wants. I betrayed the King and did the same thing, Envy isn't fucking special. I know you can't stand it, and that's what worries me the most. I just hope you don't forget to take care of you, too.
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After slipping away from Greed's dream scape and leaving unconvinced of many variables when it came to the prince, the King made true on his promise casting a visit to Isabel. Despite the threats he made towards the woman, he could not help feeling overly curious what made this witch special enough that she wrapped a sinfully arrogant demon such as his well-devoted Pride around her finger with charming wile. If Bel held the power controlling a Prince, who knows how unstoppable she would be ruling a kingdom? The King watched as the surroundings took the shape of a living room, small, cozy. How he detested the smell. Laying stretched out on a sofa to his absolute disgust was a beastly ball of fur he only assumed was the witch's familiar. "Isabel," He called out to the void, "Come to me."
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Daddy Can Fix It
handyman!Joel Miller x fem!plus size!Reader | wc: 5.4K
Summary: All the housewives in your neighborhood rave about the local handyman. And with very good reason.
WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Reader is plus-size, wears dress and lingerie, has hair and body hair, and manicure. Reader's age not mentioned so there is only as much or as little of an age gap as you'd like. TW - fat shaming, food shaming, infidelity (by reader, and it's technically warranted) Pet names (daddy for Joel; sugar, darlin', baby, sweetheart for reader). Housewife/trad-wife vibes. Totally a bored housewife fantasy. Mention of female masturbation. Breast/nipple play, oral (f & m receiving). Fingering. Body worship. Pussy pronouns. Unprotected piv (Joel is snipped, but still.. this is fiction). Light spanking. Rough sex. Creampie. Joel's kind of a big ol' slut for the lonely housewives but is also really useful around the house, so you're definitely getting a good deal 🛠️
Author's note: it's been a hot minute since I've written a one-shot for Joel but it was impossible to resist. It all started because of this pic:

so yeah, Pinterest strikes again. How could I not write a Joel fic based on this? I hope y'all enjoy 💖
JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST
"He can come clean my pipes anytime."
Raucous laughter erupts from the group of ladies huddled near the cupcakes at the latest book club meeting. You listen from the other side of the room where one of the older members is asking you to help her with her Kindle. "I never know how to keep up with all this fancy technology," Marion huffs, adjusting her bifocals.
You're trying to be patient with her, but the conversation across the room is far more intriguing. "It just needs to be charged. Your battery is low," you say three times before Marion can even hear you.
When you've managed to extricate yourself from her, you go up to the ladies and, with a friendly smile, join in. "I couldn't help overhearing."
Some of the women exchange glances, as if deciding to let you in on their convo or not. "Becky's just showing us that she got her kitchen cabinets redone," someone finally pipes up.
"That's not all she got," another starts to crack up.
You look at Becky's phone screen. The before and after shots of her cabinets are nothing short of miraculous. "That's great, Becky! I know you've been asking Gerald for a renovation for awhile," you tell her, hoping she'll be pleased you remember the plight she droned on about for weeks.
"It is great," she says, eyeing you with something like suspicion. "I have a very good handyman."
"He does everything," a nicer girl, Isabelle, chimes in.
"Boy does he," another mutters, hiding her smirk behind her cup of lemonade while the others giggle behind their hands.
Amirah adds, "He varnished my dining room table, power washed my driveway, helped organize my garage," she counts on her fingers. "He's good for little things around the house, and his prices are decent."
"It's like he's just giving it away," Becky says with a smirk and this gets the group laughing again.
"Maybe you can give me his information later," you say politely. "I have a laundry list of things that I need help with now that Wesley's working so much overtime."
The women eye one another, and it's Amirah, the leader of the group, who gives the definite nod. "Of course, sweetie. After the meeting."
"Great!" Smiling, you try to make your way through the group, saliva pooling in your mouth at the tower of red velvet cupcakes on the table spread. You reach for a couple more.
"You've already had three," Becky reminds you, casting a not-so-subtle glance at your body. Her voice sweet as honey but her words carry poison. You know you're not as thin or as glamorous as the other women in this room. You dress the same as them, wear your hair perfectly coiffed and your nails are always manicured, but just because you're not a size zero they deem you unworthy to truly be one of them.
You hold your head high with what little courage you have in the face of Becky's bitchiness, your sinful little cupcake in your hand. "I actually had three. And right now I'm about to make it five," you say sweetly, licking a swipe of cream cheese icing before putting two cupcakes on a china plate and going back to your seat.
That night, Wesley doesn't ask about your book club. He doesn't ask how your day was. He doesn't do much except pour himself a drink when he gets home and sit in front of the TV to watch the news.
You're dressed for bed, a modest robe over a red silk babydoll chemise, a purchase you'd made on a whim in the hopes that you could spice up your sex life with him which, truth be told, has never been more than lukewarm from the start.
"Do you think we should.. go to bed?" you suggest, a naughty tone to your whisper.
"It's early," he grunts, barely giving you a glance.
"I just thought we could spend some time together.." you brush your hand across his knee but he impatiently swipes it away.
"Please, darling, it's a weeknight," he looks at you as if you'd just suggested a threesome with him and the milk man. As he leaves the room he looks back at you, but the hope that rises in your chest is soon shattered when he shakes his head upon seeing your lingerie. "Red is for streetwalkers," he tells you before he goes into his study.
Daddy Can Fix It
You run your finger over the business card Amirah gave you, with all the handy man's information. The card shows his white company van with the logo emblazoned on the side: Joel Miller, Handyman At Your Service so it says in black lettering. There's a phone number and a website as well.
You dial the number, expecting to hear a secretary's voice, but you're greeted with a rich, baritone "Good mornin', thanks for callin' Daddy, what can I fix for ya today?"
Jesus, the voice alone is enough to get you flustered. And Daddy? You weren't expecting that. "Um, hi, I got your number through a friend and I'd like to see if you're available to come mow the lawn today." You peek out your curtains, seeing how the grass has grown taller than you'd like since the last time Wesley has cared enough to cut it.
"You got a lawn mower, sugar?"
"Yes, I do, um.. daddy.."
You hear him chuckle on the other end of the line. "You can call me Joel."
"Joel. Yes, I do. Is there anything else you'll need?" New to the housewife lifestyle, you're still unsure of how to make such appointments. Before you met and married Wesley, you just mowed the lawn yourself, but your husband refuses to hear of his good and proper wife performing a menial act.
"Got any bushes that need trimmin'?"
You aren't sure why that particular sentence makes you feel the blood rush to your face. "I typically keep up with it on my own, when I'm tending to my garden."
Joel gives a small chuckle and it warms your insides. "That ain't no problem. Today around eleven good for ya?"
"Eleven sounds perfect."
"Pricing'll be about fifty, but we can come to an agreement once the job is done."
"Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you." You give him your name and address, hanging up with a sense of accomplishment.
His van appears in your driveway just a minute before eleven. You're impressed with his timeliness. What you don't expect is the gorgeous stranger on your doorstep.
Joel Miller is tall, broad-shouldered, skin bronze from working out in the sun, and his dark brown hair is greying handsomely. If you had to guess his age you'd say fifties. He's in a grey tee shirt and work jeans. What stand out to you the most are his eyes: almost black in color, appraising you as you wait in the doorway, prim and proper housewife, lips parted, eyes wide.
He asks for you by name and you nod, chuckling slightly.
"If you can show me where the lawn mower is I'd be happy to get started," he offers, and the voice you recognize from the phone makes you melt.
You lead him outside to the garage and he takes out the mower, filling it up with some gasoline first. "Is there anything else you need?" you ask politely.
"No ma'am," he looks over his shoulder at you as he pushes the machine to the front yard. "Get inside and get outta this sun. I'll handle it from here," he smiles and it makes you want to giggle like a schoolgirl.
From inside you watch him through the window, deftly maneuvering the lawn mower over, trimming the grass to a neat, short length. It's not yet the hottest hour of the day, but you see him sweating, and when he stops a moment to remove his shirt, you suddenly feel your pulse in the deepest part of your cunt. You wonder what it would be like to lick up every drop of sweat off his chest.
Like a slow motion scene from a movie, you watch the motion of his arms, the rippling of his back as he guides the machine over the lawn. Biting your lip you take in the sight of him, the determination on his face redirecting your thoughts to how he would look above you: hot, sweaty, hard, plunging into your drenched pussy.
How long has it been since you've had a man? Wesley prefers his Saturday nights like clockwork. But you want more. Stupidly thinking marriage was the best way to be treated right and fucked properly, you realized it was not the title but the man, and the particular man you chose was lacking in all area which mattered.
You aren't even sure you love him anymore.
But right now, watching Joel is a treat, and fantasizing about him is a little secret you'll harbor for later in the day when you'll inevitably find yourself using the showerhead attachment.
He finishes the front and back yards, and through the blinds you peep him putting his shirt back on, running a hand through his wavy curls before putting the mower away and coming to your door.
You answer it before he knocks. "Thank you!" is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. "Please come in and we can settle payment."
He cleans the bottoms of his boots on the welcome mat before stepping inside your home and following you to the kitchen. "You have a very nice home, ma'am."
"You're too kind," you're modest about his compliment, but it's thrilling to have someone say something nice about the hard work you put into keeping house. "Would you care for some iced tea? I've just made it fresh."
"I won't say no to that," he chuckles lightly, and you're happy to fill a glass with some of the fresh-brewed tea over ice.
Joel leans back against the sink, pouty pink lips pressed to the glass as he tips it back, opening just enough to take a sweet sip. You watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows, and you wish you could lick a stripe up along his the length of his delicious-looking neck to collect all the sweat that's beaded there.
"Is there anythin' else you need help with today?" he asks, his question carrying a hint of something more.
You blank for a moment, getting lost in the depth of his obsidian eyes, still caught up in your little fantasy. "No.. no, I don't think so." Taking a look around your eyes dart to every corner, taking mental stock of the upstairs rooms as well. "No," you finalize with a smile.
"If you're sure.." he says in that same low tone.
You give him fifty dollars and chat a little while he finishes his drink.
"If there's nothin' else I'll get goin'. Feel free to call me again if you need somethin' done, or looked at. Ain't nothin' I can't fix," he winks at you on your doorstep and you feel a waterfall in your panties.
Isabelle calls later in the day. "So? You had Joel over today, right? How'd it go?"
Dinner is in the oven and there's about an hour before your husband gets home. Phone on speaker, you start peeling potatoes. "It was fine. He did a great job. I'm sure I'll use him again."
Over the line you hear Isabelle sigh. "Isn't his dick beautiful? I swear, just thinking about it gets me so wet!"
You nearly slice a finger off, shocked by her words. Even though you're alone in the house, you pick up the phone and take it off speaker. "What are you talking about?"
"I think it's at least eight inches, and the way it curves at the end," Isabelle sounds like she's moaning.
"Okay, I'm lost. I hired the handyman that you and the others referred. That's who came over today."
"Exactly, dear! Did he fuck you? You don't have to give details of course."
Your brain is put on pause as only silence fills your throat.
"Oh dear," Isabelle continues. "You didn't know?"
"Know what?"
She sighs, possibly settling herself on her chaise longue out by her pool she's so proud of. "Joel Miller is a handyman, yes. But we also pay him a little extra for other services."
"Oh." You sink onto the living room settee, the closest thing to you.
"Mm-hmm. Mind you, it's not an all-the-time thing. But we've all had him. It's just something fun. You get some help around the house with your honey-do list, and then a good fucking after. Or whatever pleases you."
"And you.. you've.. slept with him?"
"I wouldn't call it sleeping, honey, but yeah I've been with him. It's all for fun. Nobody really takes it seriously."
"And everyone else at the book club?"
"Pretty much. Do you really think any of our husbands could compare to that god of a man Joel Miller?"
No, no you doubt any man could hold up to the stud who'd just helped you with the lawn.
He's on your mind constantly, but as tightly as Wesley keeps his wallet to himself, you can't validate having Joel's help every day. You make the choice to wait until the following week.
And what a long wait it is. Jealously you wonder whose house he's going to. Jackie down the street? Bitchy Becky with her face like a rat, no tits and no ass?
You consider calling Isabelle to beg for the details (which she'll probably give you without a fuss anyway). But a sordid part of you wants to find out for yourself. You already know he's well-endowed. He's at least twice as big as Wesley, who wouldn't know what to do with a big cock if he was blessed with one overnight.
A week to the day since he made his last visit, Joel comes back to replace the batteries in your smoke alarms. It's a job you've done yourself, perching on a stepladder, but it'll be more fun to have Daddy fix it.
The phone call to schedule him was practically foreplay. That smooth-as-chocolate voice had your panties drenched. When he's finally here, inside your home, inside your needy little cunt.
Your eyes rove over his form as he uses your stepladder, only needing the first rung. It doesn't stop you from staying right there with him, holding it steady on the other side. You hear his little grunts as he gets to work, watch his thick, strong fingers handle the batteries with a delicacy you can imagine he uses in other things.
Licking your lips, you realize you're face-to-face with the faded blue denim crotch of his jeans, those Levis hugging him tight in all the right places.
"I'm 'bout done here," he says, putting the smoke detector back in its place. "Anythin' else you need help with, lil' darlin'?"
Your hand presses to the bulge in his jeans, and you're delighted when you feel him twitch in response. "As a matter of fact, I do need your help with something else.."
"That right?" he murmurs, pressing your hand against him, letting you feel him grow hard under his palm. "Been waitin' to see if you'd ask.."
He steps down, keeps his dark eyes on you. "Pretty lil' thing like yourself don't get enough attention, huh?" he whispers, brushing his thumb across your cheek.
Softly you sigh, unashamed at how needy you've been for a simple touch. "No.. but I'd like you to help with that."
"That's what I'm here for, darlin'," he smiles, his thumb tracing your soft plump lips. "What do you want me to do, baby?"
"Everything," you answer quickly. "I'm not.. really sure what the usual is.."
His smile is kind as his hand traces down your neck, leaving goosebumps to rise on your skin. "You want me to fuck ya, give ya somethin' nobody else is doin'.. that it?" He places your hand back on his bulge and you respond by rubbing him, your own cunt pulsing around nothing in excited expectation.
"Yes.. I need to get fucked," you agree emphatically, pulling him into your bedroom.
Now he's here, in your room, and you think you're dreaming. He's letting you take the lead, completely at your service. All the women in your book club were probably more open with their desires, knowing immediately what they wanted and how to get it. All the fantasies about Joel you've created and harbored in the deepest part of your heart are now as impalpable as gossamer.
"You tell me what you want, honey," he drawls in that molasses-rich voice of his. His hands gently trace your waist, smoothing down your dress as he moves towards your curvaceous hips. "God damn, I bet you look fuckin' gorgeous outta this dress. Wanna show me?"
Biting your lip, you nod, tugging off your apron and dropping it to the floor. Not gonna be a damn housewife while he's with me..
A tiny smirk on your face, you gently push Joel back onto your bed, and he rights himself with an equally mischievous smile as he watches you. He palms his hard cock through his jeans as you do a little striptease, tantalizing him as you slip your prim flower-print dress off your shoulders.
"There we go, baby," he growls as the dress falls down to your hips, your scarlet satin bra revealed, your breasts practically spilling over the cups, making Joel's mouth water. You turn around for his help in unzipping the bottom part of your dress, finally feeling free as it falls away, pooling at your feet.
Joel lets out a wolf whistle as he takes in the sight of you in your ruby undergarments, the same you'd tried to seduce your husband in. Now they're finally being put to good use. "Red's your color, gorgeous," he mutters, his hands on your hips, mapping out your generous curves and the soft rolls of your belly.
You've almost forgotten what it was like, this power to entrance a man and make him see you as the only woman in the world. Marriage to an uncaring and unfeeling idiot had left you cut off from your sexuality. Now you're reclaiming it.
Joel's hands travel back up to your waist, fingers deftly unclasping your bra. He unwraps you like you're the goddamn Christmas gift he's been begging for for months. His tongue wets his lips as your plump breasts are revealed. With one hand on your lower back, the other palms your tit with a rough hand. Your nipple rises to his touch and he dips down to swirl his tongue around it, gently coaxing it further with his teeth. Your head falls back as the sensation zings straight to your cunt. "Fuck, Joel.."
He smiles against the softness of your skin. "Sensitive here, huh? Bet these ain't been properly played with in awhile. Gonna change that right now." And with that he gives another hard suck, his dick already leaking when he hears your needy moan. He treats the other breast with the same attention. You take one of his hands and lead it to the drenched front side of your panties, but he stops you.
"Not yet, baby. Want you to see yourself before I fuckin' ruin ya."
You lay on your side on the bed as you watch Joel undress. It's a sight you won't soon forget: skin tan from working outdoors, with a smattering of chest hair that's also showing some grey, chiseled arms, and a happy trail that leads from his navel to the front of his boxers, which are tented. He wears a little smirk as he pulls them off and your reaction is priceless.
Joel is fucking hung.
You've taken big cocks before, but his is formed of pure fantasy, like a dildo from your favorite sex shop. Isabelle wasn't exaggerating about his size. And his cock is so beautiful you want to cry. Watching as he gives it a couple strokes, all eight thick uncut inches, the rosy pink tip glistens with precum, the veins and ridges prominent. Even the curve Isabelle mentioned is sexy, bound to hit all the right places inside you. His balls, rounded and heavy, move with his motions.
Thank God I did my yoga this week.
You beckon him to you, pulling the boxers away completely and dipping your head to taste him. Your tongue laves across the salty slit of his tip, and you relish the hitch of his breath. He's not here for you to please him, but it gets you wet wrapping your lips around his cock, suctioning your mouth and stroking upward from his base. When you start to massage his balls he stops you. "Don't wanna shoot too soon, baby," he says breathlessly.
He pulls you up off the bed and into a kiss, his hands playing along the edges of your panties as his tongue tastes yours. His cock, still wet from your mouth, nudges against your soft belly. "You deserve to feel good," he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his tongue tracing the outline. At last he pulls your panties down, a rumble in his throat when he sees the sweet glaze between your thighs, glistening in your triangle of hair.
"Sit on my lap, baby. With your back to me," he orders in a soft growl.
His flesh is warm beneath yours, and god it feels good just to be touched again, to feel desired by someone. You haven't known it in so long. He sits back against the headboard, moving the pillows on either side. His arm instinctively wraps around your waist as he leaves soft, feathery kisses across your shoulder.
"So soft," he murmurs. "C'mon, baby, look at yourself," he nods to the mirror in front of you.
When you catch your reflection you're exhilarated at the sight: you, naked, with Joel behind you, kissing your neck, fondling your tits, thumb brushing over them and lightly pinching them to hardened peaks. "Spread your legs for me, baby," he whispers, getting started by brushing his hand from your knee to your petal-soft inner thigh.
It's lascivious, watching all this unfurl before you in the mirror. You're spread open, on full display. Your pussy is gushing over with need, and you trace your folds with your fingers.
Behind you, Joel's cock twitches, and he rubs himself lightly against your back. "Lemme do that.." he whispers, gently pulling your hand away, bringing your fingers to his mouth and sucking your juice off them. "So sweet," he murmurs, and your belly is hot with lust.
His touch is soft and careful at first, exploring you and figuring out what you like, what you need. It feels like he's memorizing every inch of you. His thick fingers glide over your lips, circling, teasing you so you'll beg him for more.
"Joel," you whine, lifting yourself to him, trying to get his hand to position itself where you need it most. But he evades you, a dark chuckle emanating from deep in his throat. "You're payin' me to do a job and I wanna do it right. Not fair to rush me."
Your eyes close in frustration. "Joel, please.."
"Nuh-uh. Daddy."
"Fuck," you whimper. "Please, daddy."
"That's more like it." His touch finds your clit, throbbing and needy, and you nearly see stars at the feeling. He presses once again before sliding two fingers into your warm, welcoming cunt. "Christ, she's really suckin' me in there," he grunts, shifting behind you as his dick becomes nearly impossible to ignore.
"Yes," you moan at the sweet intrusion, the easy glide of his fingers in your drenched pussy. "Just like that."
"So fuckin' tight," he says through gritted teeth. And Jesus, his fingers are thick, the calloused thumb swiping over your clit, making you twitch and your hips arch up for more. "She's pulsin' around me," he mutters, his rich voice in your ear, lips brushing against your lobe. His fingers glide in, stretching you as you coat him.
"Ah, she's gettin' all creamy for me," he coos as he pulls them out a moment, licking off one finger and giving the other to you. You taste yourself, salty and sweet, humming in appreciation as you release his digit from your mouth with a pop.
He returns to his work, his hand pistoning against your folds, the squishy sounds of your soaked cunt beautifully obscene to your ears. Your voice trembles as you cry out, a sweet vibrato that resounds throughout the room as Joel's fingers curl in on your g-spot. He adds a bit more pressure to your clit as he tries to get you there. Moaning, he nuzzles his face into your neck.
It feels like you break open under his touch, hips arching up, swallowing his delving fingers deeper inside you as you spasm uncontrollably around him, a string of curses falling from your lips.
You barely have time to recover before he's on you again, moving in front of you as you lay against the pillows, like Venus in a Titian painting. His hands lift your thighs, softly kneading their thickness as he plants kisses on either side, trailing up to your cunt, your scent all around him.
"My husband never goes down on me," you whisper, heart racing as quick as a hummingbird's wings.
"Ain't he a waste of fuckin' space," Joel grunts, a wicked gleam in his eye as he dives in, flattening his tongue to lick a stripe upwards to your needy, throbbing clit. Your hands grab at his hair, pushing him forward as his groan is muffled by your sweet, saturated pussy.
"God.. damn!" you gasp at the delicious feeling of his tongue on you, lapping up every drop, tracing your lips and tickling your clit. He's relentless in his pursuit of making you come, switching up the tempo, adding a finger and then another, praising you when you cry out again. "Squeezin' so hard on me.. she's just about ready, ain't she?" Before he finally suctions his lips around your puffy clit and sucks, humming around it.
It's as if your soul leaves your body for a precious few moments, muttering monosyllables in sweet relief. You've never come so hard before, ever. And when you look up at Joel you wish you could worship him.
"Like the sweetest tea I ever drank," he says, licking his lips.
"Fuck me, Joel," you whine, still not fully come down from your climax.
"C'mere," he growls, putting you on all fours so you're facing the mirror again. You look at your reflection: hair mussed, eyes shining bright, skin glowing from your orgasm. Joel lines himself up behind you, smiling as you watch yourself. "Got every right to look at yourself, darlin'.. someone as fuckin' hot as you, with these hips, this ass?" He grabs one cheek and gives it a slap. You gasp, jolting forward, then wiggle your ass at him, wanting more.
"You a naughty lil' thing," Joel smirks, teasing your folds with his tip. "Wanna get this pretty lil' pussy ruined?"
"Yes, daddy," you moan, pushing back on him.
"Fuck me, I like the way you say that." He bites his lip as he continues teasing you. "Once I fuck you, you'll never let that limp dick husband of yours touch you ever again, I promise you that."
Your reply is cut off when you feel him nudge inside, your walls breached by his thick cock. "Oh god... yes!" you exclaim, clutching the bedsheets. "Fuck.. your cock is so huge.." You can feel the tip just kissing your cervix.
"Yeah, you like it? Like gettin' fucked by this big cock? Gettin' stretched out? Gonna leave a big ol' gapin' hole for your husband to come home to."
He bottoms out, grabbing your ass cheeks with both big hands, watching the smoothness of your skin as your cunt clenches onto him. "God damn what a pretty sight.. you oughta see this. Pussy's barely fittin' me as it is. Only tighter thing would be your little ass.." and he pulls out all the way to slam back in, glorying in the way you scream his name.
"There she goes, gotta get 'er used to me," he grunts, eyes on your swollen pussy lips wrapping his cock in a vise with each steady thrust. "Jesus, sweetheart. So tight I gotta try not to blow my load."
The sound of his name on your lips, the way your body reacts to him, is like gasoline on an already raging fire. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "Say my name, baby. I wanna hear it." He quickens the pace, pressing deeper inside you.
"Daddy! Daddy!" you shout in time with each delicious snap of his hips. "My god, you're so fucking deep.." you moan.
"That's it, take all of me. You like the way I fill you?"
"Yes daddy!" Your fingers clutch the sheets as the bed rocks with your movements. "So full of you.."
He presses a hand to your abdomen. "Feel me there, baby? All up in your guts. No one else is ever gonna fill you the way I do. No one's ever gonna come close. This needy lil' cunt's gonna be cryin' for me every day until I come back and give her what she needs."
His dirty talk is getting you wetter, your juices running down between your thighs, making his cock all sloppy, the sound of it making you feral for more. "Fuck me, Joel.. fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme.." you mumble, face down, ass up, slack jawed as you drool on the sheets.
He speeds up, hips slamming against yours, balls thwacking under you. "Yeah? Want me to fill ya up, blow all this fuckin' load inside ya? Got snipped years ago, baby, 's up to you."
"Fill me up, make me dirty and messy," you groan.
"You want daddy to give you everything he's got, baby?" he repeats. "You want me to fill you til you're all messy and drippin' with me?"
"Yes.. yes please," you're barely able to get out.
"Fuck," he growls, grabbing hold of your hips as he pounds into you ferociously. Once he has control he places one hand on your back, keeping you pressed down as he angles himself to hit that delicious little spot inside and he knows he's hit it when you cry out, cursing and shivering, clamping down on him like a damn vise right before he lets go, streaming jet after jet of his hot come inside you. There's so much it's already leaking out while he's still inside you.
The rest of the week you make a list of things for Joel to do next time: perhaps check out what's going on with the washing machine, or maybe he could regrout your bathroom, or help you rearrange your living room furniture right before he rearranges your guts again.
Even Wesley notices the bright and cheery mood you're in, and how attractive you've become since taking on some of the home improvements. That weekend he does you a huge favor, and sits back in his armchair as he waits for you to discover it.
"Wesley? What were you doing in the garage for so long? I heard a lot of noise," you tell him, arms crossed, a look of suspicion on your face.
He looks pleased with himself. "Well honey, you've been so agreeable these past few days that I thought I'd cross off some little projects on your to-do list."
"Like what?" you ask slowly.
He lists off everything you've had planned for Joel to do in the coming weeks. Small things, of course, but Wesley has done all of them, leaving you with nothing for daddy to fix.
"I thought you'd be happy," he says, his face cloudy now that you're unhappy again.
"Happy? Not quite." You leave a moment and return with a hammer, heading towards your husband.
He cowers, ducking as you completely pass him by and swing the hammer into the drywall of the living room wall, over and over again. When you've let your anger out and Wesley is rightfully afraid of your next move, you simply smile sweetly, holding the hammer pressed to your apron with your well-manicured hands. "Looks like I'll have to call the handyman after all!"
dividers by @thecutestgrotto 👑
tagging those who showed interest when this baby was still just a wip: @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @604to647 @inept-the-magnificent @clawdeewritesfanfic @manuymesut @bitccchmood @everybodylovedcontractors
#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x plus sized reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller handyman#joel miller fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#pedro boys#pedro pascal character smut#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character headcanons#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal cinematic universe#joel miller au#joel miller tlou#baroness von glitter
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kind of shocked after having the chapter that included Alex’s POV that she would go shopping with Pascale and the other gf’s and didn’t think about Isabelle for a moment. Like you just had the realisation that you know nothing about her and she seems very not-at-ease at home. But she’s like not questioning not inviting Isabelle. would love to see a convo between the brothers gf’s esp after they awkward encounter
I would fight the world for belle but max already doing a great job
You’re absolutely right — and honestly, it’s very intentional 🥲 Belle isn't just invisible to her brothers. She's invisible to almost everyone around them, including the girlfriends. Even after Alex had that realization, it's still not instinctive for her to think of Belle, much less include her — because Belle has been treated like an afterthought for so long that people don't even notice they're doing it. (But you're also right... after the awkward encounter, some conversations are definitely brewing 👀) And honestly?? Max is 100% leading the charge on fighting the world for Belle — but I love knowing she has an army of readers ready to throw hands too 😂🫶🏻 Thank you so much for caring about her this much!!
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"Afraid not. Those bouquets won't arrange themselves, you know?" April replied with a chuckle, "That's a shame. It is pretty. But I do understand the sentiment at the same time. Bad memory associations create a bad aura."
"What? You mean you aren't available to be my personal shopper every time I go out?" Isabelle joked lightly, giving a laugh though at the suggestion of buying it, Isabelle wrinkled her nose and gave a little shake of her head. "I think I'll pass. Even if I did like it, I'd just get reminded of this debacle every time I put it on." Isabelle explained. "And then I think it would take away from the enjoyment of it."
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One week on from the Season Finale airing, and I can't stop thinking about all the beautiful Caryl scenes we got in those final 3 episodes once they were reunited. There were so many scenes that I'd been hoping to get for years. It was a feast worthy of a Royal Banquet.
The reunion, obviously. That goes without saying, really. The raw emotion that poured out of them both, the sheer relief that they were together. The undeniable feeling that in those few moments, everything was right with the world. The fighting going on around them falling away until it was just them. It topped Terminus for me.
The bickering like an old married couple while they were fixing the car. That was so much fun and something I'd wanted to see them do for a long time.
The entire section with Didi and Theo and Carol and Daryl's interactions with them and with each other. Especially the sweet glance they shared when Didi and Theo started dancing.
Carol immediately understanding why Daryl was so frantic after Isabelle's death the second she realised the person Isabelle asked Daryl to take care of was a child and that the child might be in danger. The way as soon as she understood that she knew exactly the right thing to say and what Daryl needed from her to be able to calm down and think straight. It was a really beautiful moment between them.
The fun convo they shared about high school French classes.
Daryl being protective and not wanting Carol to go in on her own to Ash and telling her she didn't need to take dumb risks and then her quipping back about how did he think she found him. Then Carol having to come clean and admit she had lied to Ash and Daryl immediately killing the sibling narrative once and for all by him immediately worrying she told Ash he was her brother, like that was the worst thing he could think she could have said.
The fact they are finally talking about stuff is everything. It's been such a long time coming & was very much needed. I loved how they handled that side of the story and to see Daryl being exactly what Carol needed him to be.
It had everything from humour/comedic moments right through the spectrum to the deep emotional scenes, and I loved it all. Some of my favourite Caryl moments ever have come from these 3 episodes, and I'm truly grateful to David Zabel & Jason Richman for writing them, and I'm excited to see what they're writing for season 3.
#caryl#carol peletier#daryl dixon#the book of carol#the walking dead#melissa mcbride#norman reedus#caryl positivity#twd#carol x daryl#Thankyou David Zabel and Jason Richman
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