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1juniperberries1 · 3 days ago

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(aaaaaaand Maddy lore. this is the very beginning, kinda. more after I write it, hopefully… can’t wait to introduce you to Clementine…)

“Maddy Estelle.”

“Yes ma’am?”

Perfect. Pleasing to the eyes. A descendant of her Excellence, Lady Vudu.

“You don’t say ‘yes ma’am,’ you hurry into her office!”

“Ah, right, sorry, sorry…”

Beauchamp Boarding School.

Maddy didn’t know why she was here. She knew why, but she couldn’t grasp the thought process behind her parents’ decision to send her.

Eleven years old. Hands clasped in front of her, just below her waist. She walked into the office with her beloved guardians, but the director, smoking something she didn’t like the smell of, waved them out and then she was alone.

“Maddy Estelle… you’re not too bright, are you?”

“I like to think I am.”

The older woman laughed at her, crimson button eyes glinting humorlessly.

“You like to think, huh?” She was sitting in a large chair behind a desk, separated from Maddy by a long pane of plexiglass. “Have a seat, Miss Estelle.”

Miss Estelle? She walked a couple paces and had a seat, folding her delicate hands, crossing her long legs, tugging nervously at the short skirt that exposed her thighs.

The air was tight.

She suddenly regretted dressing so loosely.

“This is Beauchamp. I’m Ms. No-Nonsense. You’ve been enrolled for next semester. Tell me about your current education.”

No room for friendliness.

No room to breathe.

Maddy was still determined to keep her head up, though.

“I have tutors…” She tried, then swallowed the words, finding them embarrassing, for some reason. “I- I mean I’m homeschooled. I take advanced classes and I’m very adept, or so I’ve been told.”

Something about the woman’s stare made her doubt every syllable.

She didn’t blink.

She didn’t rouse.

She didn’t approve.

She didn’t like who— no, what she was looking at.

“Homeschooled. That’s all you had to say, doll.”

“I’m sorry…”

“No, you’re not. Here at Beauchamp, we apologize.”

“I…”

There was a rock in her stomach. The unease came to a head, the world was spinning and she suddenly wasn’t in the center of it anymore.

“I apologize.”

———

The months following had been quiet.

She watched, one by one, as her tutors disappeared. Seeing them around the home became scarce, and then, finally, they would all approach her, at their own time, in their own way, to say goodbye.

Some of them gave her gifts. Sewing supplies from her domestics tutor. A pretty pair of ruby red ballet shoes from her dance instructor. A stuffed rabbit with a note attached from the one who taught her sign language.

One of the last to go, but also one with one of the largest impacts would have been her algebra instructor. Mid-sixties, a retired professor who took up contracts with rich families to personally instruct their children.

His goodbye was the longest. He met her in her bedroom, pacing around, giving a grand speech about their wonderful time together, came up to her and gently kissed her knuckles.

His gift was his knowledge, he’d joked, but he was empathetic, and knew from her silence that she was disappointed.

Maddy actually hadn’t spoke the whole time, and he realized it as his gestures grew less and less grand. Eventually, he was beside her on the bed, twiddling his thumbs, quietly going on about how he was pained to be robbed of the pleasure of teaching her calculus.

To end, he patted her on the shoulder and made his departure swift. Maddy, however, found herself reluctant to let him leave.

So she followed.

She followed down the long hall, walking through the daylight that felt cold on her skin. Too many memories were hiding in those orange lights. Too much sorrow was clashing with them in her heavy heart.

“Why?” She called, stopping him in his tracks, watching his head slowly peer over his shoulder. Calculator. She thought, clutching the rabbit she couldn’t seem to put down even tighter.

“Why what?” He hesitantly called back, but turned fully around, hands stuffed into his pockets. Light cut across his figure, bathing his squarish body, giving him an ethereal glow.

“Why are you all leaving? Why am I being sent away?” She felt like a toddler, scared and confused, voice teetering on the cusp of tears. “What did I do wrong? I can fix it… I’ll fix it.”

“My dear…” He’d caved then, huffing, speed-walking over to her, kneeling in her path.

“You will tell no one of this. Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

Because somehow, he’d always understood her best. Self-assured but playful. Never condescending, never taunting, always sufficiently careful, ever fond.

“I don’t know the whole of it, and I’m sorry this had to befall you. From what I’ve been able to glean, however, one of your folks has brought bad blood on the family and it’s the only way to keep you safe.”

“What? That doesn’t make any sense, though. Why not send me to live with Uncle Mackery—”

“I don’t know.” He repeated, exasperated, strained, and Maddy could see the pain glimmering in his eyes, the way his fingers dug into his knee.

Silenced, she pursed her lips and nodded.

It would have to be good enough.

“I don’t believe the arrangement will be permanent, at the very least.” He continued, sighing, rising, dusting himself off. “I hear the ladies at Beauchamp are wicked at first. Certainly they will mellow out, yes? The best thing you can do for yourself is follow their instruction and keep your wits about you, alright?”

“Right.”

“Good. Then hopefully we may meet again, Miss Maddy.”

“I do hope so as well, Mr. Casio.”

…

Empty.

Empty as he disappeared down the hall, empty still as he made his way to the doors. Emptiest when she heard them shut.

Yet, for all the windows, she did not see the immediate tragedy to befall him— the bullet that went through him, nor the men who dragged his writhing body into their sleek black vehicle before speeding off.

For Maddy was curled up on the floor, allowing the darkness to close in.

She would never see him again.

Though the gesture was kind, the effect was, overall, completely negative.

Not only did Mr. Casio lose his life, he also did something far more distressing in his undoing.

He gave Maddy one fat lump of false hope.

(like most of my Drabbles, there’s alt versions to this one lmao… in one of ‘em she breaks his arms- but I went for something softer. she’ll get her crash out. eventually, kekeke…)

...

Grabs Bebe Maddy.

Carries her to Yijun.

Places her down in his lap and wraps a blanket around her.

Pats her head.

AAAAA NOOOO MADDYYYY.... I LOVE SO MUCH WHYYYY...

Bebe Maddy will be kept safe from this. Grrr.. At least in my heart..

(I honestly have nothing to say except. Nooo... It is delicious tho..)

#vics ocs!!!#Maddy Estelle #VICS WRITING #Nooo...#My bebe... Sobs #she's getting all the hugs.

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likesomeoneinlovee · 3 months ago

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𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x F!reader

Words: 2.9k

Summary: Tonight’s the night Joel Miller finally let’s his feelings for you show. Or; Joel Miller half-assedly teaches you how to ride him.

Warnings: PWP. UNPROTECTED P-IN-V, big age gap, Joel is 57, Joel takes your virginity! Wow! Riding/lap riding, tummy bulge, daddy kink, creampie, pussy and cock pronouns, mentions of female masturbation, Joel, BIG DICK Miller.

Author’s Note: Here, take this no beta’d word vomit while I work on reqs! ;)

It was Joel’s neck covered in kisses, stained the color of your muted red lipstick.

It was Joel’s hands firmly purchased on your waist as you humped his denim-clad thigh.

Kissing him with a will and invite for his tongue. Vibrations of your moans shook down his throat. Your body finally starting to settle into his lap as he sat in the middle of your bed, your white shabby comforter detailed with a pattern of little pink flowers pooling around him, his legs tucked underneath his thighs.

You sure as fucking hell were bound to lose the daughter-of-the-year award if your daddy comes home to a dirty house and a Joel in your sheets.

He pulled away, the kiss ending in a sharp, wet sound.

“This. Off.” He ordered, his eyes flicked to your top.

A free hand came up, his fingers curling underneath the hem of your tank –the same impossibly tight one that your tits have been threatening to spill out of all fucking day. Rolled over your head and thrown to the floor beside your bed, bound to be forgotten about and eventually hidden away underneath your bed skirt to be found again in the coming months.

Willing and ready you found yourself leaning in on your knees, hovering over his lap as you squirmed out of your shorts. Joel’s hands reached to pull it down your thigh at his best attempts to help you. Quickly those hands came in focused on his own clothes, his dick suffering underneath the confines of his tattered jeans.

He worked the clasp of the belt with his thumb, struggling to manage precise movements while the only light spreading into the room would be the pale glow of the moon that snuck through the slit between your curtains. Finally with a click the belt had loosened, able to thread out from the loops of his jeans, falling to the carpeted floor with a muffled sound of metal clanking against itself.

Leaning back you awaited what you knew was to come- nearly whimpering just from the twisting low in your belly. Thick digits clamped the zipper of his jeans as he pulled it down. After a few difficult tugs down his thighs his cock sprung out. Quick, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it motion accompanied by the sound of the thick length slapping up against his tummy.

Luckily, you didn’t blink.

You couldn’t sit, not yet at least. Your body stilling as your brain faltered for a moment, the sight of his painfully blushed tip, precum crying from the slit– well, was distracting. It made you ache.

You stood up, your legs bucking as you tried to fight off the dizziness, giving Joel time to kick off his jeans as you kicked your shorts off of your ankle, your panties followed up. It was slow, it was fucking messy. It was two seconds away from his palm and your waist already missed the warmth. Luckily, he was quick to the scene.

His hands squeezed into the plush of your thighs, pressing his nose into your navel, craning his head forward to draw a path down to your pelvis, pressing a firm, sweet kiss to the soft skin. The pull his hands were giving your legs was silently telling you he was ready. His bare chest inflating and deflating with every long, deep breath.

Something different twisted in your gut now. You were anxious.

“You know I haven’t–”

“I know.”

He did know. But he also knew a couple other things too. He knows how you fuck your pillow every night to the thought of this, he knows how you make your fingertips abuse your clit till your wrist burns. Secrets that had flurried out of your lips as you two stumbled through the doors earlier that night.

Things you most definitely admitted to too quickly, though, you felt it couldn’t wait any longer.

“Sit. He ain't goin’ in on his own.” He said simply. Truthfully, he made a good point.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you slowly began lowering yourself, his hand splayed on your lower back. Closer… Closer. Until you were there, your warm, wet, bare pussy pressed against his writhing dick, now bowed between your folds. Safe and warm but not quite happy.

Joel was shocked he hadn’t lost his mind yet.

His fingers crawled up behind you, finding the clasp to your black push-up bra and undoing it, letting it fall into his grasp before– you guessed it, throwing it to the other side of the fucking room.

He brushed your hair out from blocking your breasts, the flesh tender, swelling with each breath.

“Fuck me. Why’ve you been hidin’ these from me, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, an act of attitude turning into one of pleasure half way as his calloused thumb runs over a half-hard nipple.

“I wouldn’t have minded if you noticed them before.”

You knew your pussy was making you say that. Though, there lied some truth. You couldn’t say if Joel did walk up to you and grab your tits before all this that you wouldn’t have slapped him across the cheek.

He swallowed as he let his face nestle between your breasts, his nose dragged up your sternum before halting at your collar.

“You would’ve.”

He stated. Simply. The palm of his right hand soothed down your waist, running his thumb across the divot between the top of your thigh and your hip before working over to your cunt. Pressing the pad firmly against your clit. Swelling up under the hood.

“You like touching yourself here?”

Oh great, he remembers.

Oh fuck, he remembers.

“Yes.” You breathed. The feeling making your hips stutter into the touch.

You were quick to get impatient especially in your pretty little head beneath every other disgusting thought, you really knew you didn’t need the foreplay, or, any more at least. You came for the real deal and that’s exactly what you wanted from him. Needed.

“Fuck me Joel, c’mon.” You were frustrated.

He would’ve told you to wait another minute, get real ready which is what he was making sure you were. He could feel how you pulsed against his cock. The pressure he felt in his length was unbearably numbing.

He guided your legs to tie a knot around his hips, wrapping a strong arm against your lower back.

“Gonna put your hand here– right on my chest.”

Your fingers had clung around his thumb as he guided your hand over, splaying your palm flat against his chest, his nipple pressed between your middle and index.

“Like that?” You questioned, bordering innocence.

“Like that.”

Your other hand rested on his knee, that light touch turned into a firmer grip at the feeling of his cock jumping between your slit. It was a warm, sticky mess of precum and your own juices.

“Lift.”

His breath fanned out against your neck, a warmth already creeping up your skin there. You obeyed once again, lifting your hips just a bit so he could grab ahold of his base. Trying to ignore the pulses, he glided his cockhead through your labia. Puffy, aching, leading a path to your opening. Drenched.

It’d be a tight fit, that was for fuckin’ sure.

He started slow, pushing– pushing. His head in a constant nod to check between your entrance struggling to stretch around his bulbous head and your beautiful, little face.

“Breathe.” He reminded. “C’mon babygirl, let ‘Im in.”

Your hand moved up, cupping his nape instead of contently settling on his chest. You had to breathe.

You let out another mewl as it got heavier– the pressure, the feeling of him invading your cunt. He was unnaturally large. You could excuse that maybe the female body wasn’t built to take a cock so over the six-inch mark.

That was until you felt it: Your muscles relaxing enough to take him in with a tender inhale. Popping past your virginity, your eyes glossed over as you finally let out the moan that had been stuck in the middle of your throat since you got in his lap. Your fingers threading between the damp curls that fell against the back of his neck.

“There she is.” His breaths were quick to turn shallow, feeling your muscles clamp down. An unwelcoming-welcome into your walls.

“Atta fuckin’ girl…”

“Joel–” You’d whimper, the feeling was heavy, tight. You could only imagine how he felt.

A broad hand finds your hip, guiding you into quick, strong movements as you worked your hips back and forth, soon enough– bouncing. Joel’s balls were heavy, hitting your ass in a staccato rhythm. He was a pleaser, there wasn’t a second doubt about that fact. He fucking needed you to feel every. Last. Inch.

Though, there was a dichotomy. Fucking your brains out or trying his best to find the words to help you. Teach you. Ultimately, it had to be the second option. Another deep pump and his head curved to kiss a soft give on your gummy walls making you moan. Loud.

If only your eyes had the strength to open– turn your head to the side to look at the hands of your clock, though in the dark room you wouldn’t have much luck anyway. Dad would be home around one– AM, Jesus Christ, It’s not that you had hoping that Joel’s old cock would be outta you soon. But at this rate, you’d need to clean, do the dishes– wash your fucking sheets now, apparently. Worry was quickly fucked out of your head, an uncontrolled rut of Miller’s pelvis led to his tip bumping into your cervix, grazing along the tissue. Fuck, that made your head spin.

“Don’t think.” He noticed. His lips pressed against the top of your breast, hands sliding to your ribs.

“He’s too big to think, daddy.” Shaky. You had enough in you to tease him.

His lips traced all the way to the tip of your nose, planting a firm cloying kiss there. Then your cheek, your eyelid as it fluttered shut. He could’ve came right there. He pulled you closer, his hips jumping into yours. Every now and again the rocking would get fast– thrusts mean before they slowed to calm again. His brows knitted together before he found himself taking your hand into his again. Sacredly bringing it to his chest for the second time, right below his clavicle.

“Right there– feel that? Feel how fast you got my heart goin’, baby?”

At first you could think the worst and assume he was trying to insinuate he was going into cardiac arrest– no, he wasn’t that elderly. W–was he?

“I– I do.” You stammered. Nodding quickly as you pressed your hand deeper.

But once you really felt it. Heavy bumps against the middle of your palm. A fast thump-thump-thump–. It wasn’t long until you felt your gut twist. Your mouth fell slack with a sharp whine, you could feel every motherfucking vein throbbing, your walls gloving him tight, giving him zero room to breathe.

“I do.”

You repeated. Your thighs felt hot. Hot as in; like all the blood in your body decided to all go there. Making them buzz, your legs occasionally kicking out. Now with your body ready and begging, screaming to just reach that climax already, you were really fuckin’ struggling. It was a war between you, your body and Joel’s cock. You’ve never tried harder to keep a poker face in your life. You were teetering the line, you were gonna cum. Joel could see that. See your facade slipping.

“She’s real good, y’know.” He said, “Squeezin’ me like she needs it.”

“She does.” You were quick to reply to his praise, it sounded more like a cry than anything. Something that was making his ego inflate. And his cock.

“Hurry– my– Jesus. Christ.” It was like he was waiting for your next words to push deeper, harder. His thrust pausing midway to really drive himself in. “Dad– dad’s gonna be home soon–”

Joel bit back a smirk at the mess he was making of you. Understanding how it must’ve felt for you. Poor, pliant girl. Completely cock-drunk and there was no way around the fact. Your body squirming, wriggling against him. His fingers dug into the soft plush of your ass.

“Hm? Daddy’s right here, baby.” He cooed.

Oh, you were gonna fucking kill him after this.

He withdrew, his jaw slacked as shallow, shaking breaths puffed out from salvia slicken lips. The slick, glistening head of his dick quickly forced right back into you, continuing the rhythm he had found that perfectly suited. Back and forth. Back. And. Fucking. Forth.

His eyes locked on you. Not your face: your thighs, him between your thighs. The bump-out in the low of your tummy showing just where his cock was. His thumb ran right above where his base was buried, up, up, finding that pretty pink pearl hiding beneath the surface. With a firm pressure, he began thrusting his thumb forwards and back. Your cunt fluttering every time.

“Feel that? Feel me?” His cock curved up, pressing against yet another dizzying spot.

Your slender fingers moved down your highly sensitive body, haphazardly ghosting over your low stomach. And there you felt– him. So close, so intimately close.

“C’mon, cum f’me, baby. I know you need’ta…” He urged.

It was your final straw, apparently your body’s as well.

“Fuck, fuck–Joel–!” You felt the knot in your pelvis pinch tighter. “Daddy– fuck–!”

It was a choked cry as your hands spastically found his shoulders, fingers squeezing into the muscle painfully hard. A thick, pulsating numbness that made your walls spasm around Joel’s cock, forcing your head to be thrown back, eyes squeezing shut. You wanted to scream. Your body scorching hot, every damn inch of you. It wasn’t an orgasm you had given yourself from pure clitoral. No, so fucking different. It was– wetter. Joel’s hips slammed upwards a final time. This time faltering, stopping to press right into you as he came. Balls drawing up as thick, hot ropes of semen filled your poor, abused cunt. Painting your walls an opaque white.

“Shh shh– s’okay.” He whispered, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear, salt and pepper facial hair tickling, testing your sensitivity.

Your clit rubbed against the greying, wiry curls crowning his base, a mixture of your orgasms dripping down his shaft, your lips parted, heavy pants mixing with whines continued to shamelessly drip off your tongue. And suddenly, Joel stopped, you swore, from what you could see, the color drained from his face–

“Pill?”

Pill–? The fuck was he– oh.

Oh, motherfucker.

The aftershocks of your climax still buzzed throughout your body, clouding every inch of your breathing– the fog especially swelling inside your head, though, you mustered up enough to reply.

“I thought I told you. No.”

You stated. Firm.

Funnily-e-fucking-nough, you did tell him. Granted, maybe it was mutterings of a half-baked version of you, but, inevitably, still you. Your head fell forward into his chest as his hand wrapped around his base, wincing as he pulled himself out of you. His dick throbbed, aching to bask in your warmth once again. It was one helluva way to kill a moment. Whatever moment that was supposed to be.

Your body still bloomed with warmth as he laid back with you, soothing his palm down your arm.

“The pharmacy is right on my way here.” He murmured. “I’ll pick up Morning After’s before you even wake up.”

His promise was calming to you, a lazy smile came over your face as you relaxed with him. He was trustworthy, this wouldn’t be a man who’d say something like that and not follow through, this was, well, Joel. It was Joel.

You could always rely on Joel.

Sweet silence was soon rudely interrupted by the sound of a truck pulling into the asphalt, Fuck fuck fuck! That was your dad’s truck, the brights shining blindingly through your sheer drapes, you and Joel laying in bed, well, like deers in headlights.

You so rudely pushed away from Joel, stumbling over to the bath robe hanging on the knob of your closet door– and Joel, well, was too fucking slow is what he was.

“You need to get the fuck out!” You hissed.

Joel, standing in the middle of your room with a cock still slick with both of your cum, scrambling to find his fucking boxers– did you have a fucking void in your floor?! He picked his jeans up, tripping into them as you placed your hands on his arms, pushing him towards the window–

“Jesus, sweetie– h-hold on–!”

That’s the thing, you couldn’t. As soon as you heard the front door open your stomach sank, nauseatingly low.

“Out, NOW!”

You were harsh, sure. But for all the right reasons. You felt bad kicking him out in unzipped jeans and no shirt, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead only forcing him to do the walk of shame alllllll the way back to his house. Which luckily was only a block away. Anyone with eyes and a window facing the sidewalk could see him– so theoretically, everyone in the neighborhood.

You were just about to slam the window shut into his fingers before he stopped you, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb running along your bottom lip like he had the time.

“See you in the mornin’.”

He smiled. Lazy, tired. But genuine. It made your stomach flutter.

“See you…” You returned the smile. Shutting the window as silently as you could as you watch him stumble his way out of your yard.

The fact you had turned this poor, fifty-seven year old man into a hormonal teenager again was starting to set in.

#NOOO PEEPAW DONT LEAVE US C*M BACK ☹️😭#with my plan b apparently #apologies for probably millions of errors #I AM SO TIRED AND HIGH AS HELL #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel tlou #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #the last of us hbo #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #smut #fanfic #ao3

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