#thank you so much milla i love this SO MUCH

[mmriesoftvat]

independent gen.shin multimuse, ft. wanderer, chongyun half iconless. google doc | promo credit

[aurorawritestoescape]

GOOD GIRL || Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you get caught in the rain on your way to Professor Miller’s house and your lesson gets derailed.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, big age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel’s in his late 40s), insecure reader, soft!Joel, praise, f!oral, unprotected piv, belly bulge, use of a morning after pill, slight Professor kink, power imbalance. Joel can pick up reader, reader has hair. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no physical description.

Word count: 7,9k

A/n: this is for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge. Big thank you to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing. Hope you all will enjoy it💖

MASTERLIST

You are rushing along an empty suburban street caught in a warm summer rain. Soaked strands of hair are sticking to your face and you brush them off, feeling your clothes getting wet too. Drops of water are trickling down your naked thighs as your skirt rides up and your shoes squelch with every hurried step.

The rain isn’t too heavy and you might have enjoyed it some other time but not now, not when you’re running late for your lesson at Professor Miller’s house. You could have waited it out under a tree but by the look of it, the pouring won’t stop soon.

You didn’t want to make Professor Miller wait. He is already doing you a huge favor, tutoring you a few hours a week in preparation for another year at college.

You decided to switch majors and, being a good friend of your mother, Professor Miller agreed to help you so you could catch up on what you had missed and get more confident in the new field.

Frankly you wouldn’t be late if you hadn’t been running circles in your room, trying to decide what to wear. Of course, you had a crush on Professor Miller. He was handsome, intelligent, nice and much older than you. But you’d never act on it because you couldn’t even imagine him looking at you like that. So you weren’t choosing anything to attract him that day. All you wanted was to look nice. You always wore formal clothing out of respect for him. One time you put on a band tee and a pair of ripped jeans for your lesson and felt terribly out of place next to the perfect Professor Miller. After that you swore to yourself to look presentable at his lessons.

You’re looking very far from presentable when Professor Miller opens the door to you now. Yet there’s not a trace of displeasure in his warm gaze.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re soaked!” he exclaims, eyes widened behind his black-rimmed glasses.

“Forgot my umbrella, so sorry,” you mumble, stepping inside. You take off your wet shoes and put on the slippers you always wear in his house. Seeing that you’re dripping water on the floor, you silently curse.

As a striking contrast to you Professor Miller looks impeccable. Beautiful dark curls are combed back, a black sweater over a white dress shirt and black slacks make him look like he’s on a red carpet rather than in a suburban house on a Saturday.

He rushes away, mumbling something about towels, and you peek into the hall mirror to check the damage.

What you see makes you want to jump out of the window - your mascara is running, the hair’s wet and disheveled but what makes your heart drop to your stomach is your white blouse, soaked, stuck to your torso and completely see-through. Your chest is fully exposed except for your white lacy bra which isn’t much help either as you can definitely see your nipples.

Your hands dart to cover yourself but you don’t want to attract more attention to it, so you try to cross your arms over your breasts as casually as possible.

“Here.” You jerk, hearing Professor Miller’s beautiful voice and take a towel from him with a quiet ‘thank you.’

“Can I use the bathroom?” You ask, hugging the towel close to your chest.

“Of course, take your time. Join me in the office when you’re ready.”

You love Professor Miller’s guest bathroom. All of his house actually. It’s always neat and feels warm and cozy. Every piece of furniture seems thought through, the colors are rich but calming and you often find yourself wishing to stay here longer.

You clean your face up and dry yourself as well as you can. Your hair is still damp, but the skirt is not that wet. On the other hand your blouse still makes you wanna cry. At some point you contemplate asking Professor Miller for a spare shirt but this seems very inappropriate.

So you take a deep breath and decide that you can cover your almost exposed breasts with a book or something else.

You walk to the office and hastily join Professor Miller at his desk. A cup of hot tea is waiting for you next to a stack of books.

“Take a seat, sweetheart,” he says, patting the chair next to him and you plop down awkwardly, trying to hide your indecency. “Drink this. It’ll help you to get warm.” His gaze slides over you fast, not sticking to anything in particular, and you ease up a little.

He starts the lesson by checking your homework and explains your mistakes. You nod but hardly listen to him. So close to Professor Miller you feel disappointed in yourself, looking like an idiot who forgets to check the weather before leaving the house.

A light breeze hits your back and you shiver.

“Oh, I’ll close the window.” Professor Miller rushes to stand up, but you stop him with a hand on his arm. As if electrified by the feeling of his firm muscles under your touch, you dart your hand back, as your cheeks burn and you say,

“It’s ok. I love the sound of rain.”

“But you must be cold? Here, take my cardigan.” You object but he doesn’t listen, grabbing it off his chair and putting it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you breathe out, wrapping yourself in it as his scent envelops you. He smells of vanilla and cardamom and you can’t help but take a deep breath of him. He smiles, but you don’t notice it.

A couple of times during the lesson Professor Miller seems to lose his train of thought and you blame your look for it. He must be thinking that you look like a stray wet dog and your mood gets worse.

When he stands up to get a book from his home library you use the pause to apologize,

“I’m sorry again for looking like this. I should have waited the rain out but I was running late.”

He turns to you, standing at the wall full of books, and shakes his head, a warm smile on his handsome face,

“What are you talking about? You look great.”

“Ehm…I doubt it. I bet I’ve left a puddle in your hall like a wet dog.”

He chuckles, then grabs the necessary book and returns to the desk. He sits down and turns slightly towards you. His knee touches your naked thigh and you press your legs together, feeling the tingling between them. With a new wave of embarrassment overtaking you, you close the cardigan over your chest. He doesn’t look down but instead searches for your eyes.

“You look amazing, sweetheart, you always do. And I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. It’s just rain.”

The sun peeks through the clouds for a second, and when its golden rays fill the room, you notice how beautifully Professor Miller’s eyes sparkle behind the glasses when the light shines on them. It takes your breath away and you lower your gaze with a smile. His praise makes you feel warm and fuzzy and your heart sings at the sincerity in his voice.

“Thank you.” Your quiet words are barely audible because of the sound of the rain outside.

Professor Miller takes a deep sigh. “Sometimes when I look at you…I wish I was younger.”

Your jaw nearly hits the floor as you look up at him and stumble, “W- what… why? Really? Why?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, my back wouldn’t give me so much grief.”

You’re nodding with a fake smile, disappointed by his answer. He’d never look at you this way, in a different way. He’s perfect and you’re …well, you. He interrupts your self-deprecation saying softly, “Sweetheart, you worry too much. You, young people, don't understand how lucky you are. You have the whole life ahead of you, you’re free of regrets, sorrows. And the youth passes so quickly.”

You’re staring at him now, lips half parted, and then suddenly blurt out, “I am afraid. Almost all the time.”

“Of what? Why?” He asks, looking concerned.

“I don’t know. Of… everything.”

You turn slightly to him on the chair but quickly avert your gaze and stare back at the open window. The thrumming of the rain outside makes it easier to talk, as if it is accompanying your words.

“I’m afraid of my future. How wonderful it can be or how unhappy I might become. I study hard thinking …wishing the result will give me happiness but what if it doesn’t. I worry about my future career, but I’m not even sure I want it. I.. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You feel wetness coating your eyes and glance at him. He’s looking at you with intent, his brows slightly furrowed in thought.

You sniff, turning back to the desk, and stare at your fingers fumbling with the corner of Professor Miller’s cardigan.

“Sweetheart, no one knows what the fuck they’re doing.”

Your head whips up and you gawk at him with widened eyes. You’ve never heard him swear and never thought you ever would. He smiles, as if finding your reaction amusing.

“I might look all put together but I’m just like you. Scared, unsure… hell, we all are. No matter the age, I doubt it ever goes away,” he says placing his heavy hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, “But you can try to focus on the present, enjoy the moment, enjoy yourself.”

The sadness in your eyes makes him chuckle bitterly, “My intent was to help but it seems like I’ve done the opposite.”

“No, it’s fine. I appreciate you telling me this but I doubt I can do that.“

He watches you for a few moments and suddenly his face lights up and a charming lopsided smile twists his lips. You almost giggle at how mischievous and joyful he looks.

“I know what we should do.” He gets up and offers you his hand.

You look up at him confused but so much joy is radiating from him, you can’t say ‘no’. You take his hand and your whole body vibrates with skin on skin contact. You’re overwhelmed by his and your confession, by the unexpected turn your lesson took, and your heart is fluttering in your chest.

You follow him to the living room, your hand in his, and come up to the French windows which lead to the back yard. He lets go of your hand and you fix his cardigan that’s slipping off your shoulders.

Professor Miller opens the windows and a flow of humid slightly cold air rushes into the room and you wrap the cardigan tighter around your torso. The rain got heavier and you see little puddles on the patio.

He turns to you and says, louder than usual, so you could hear through the drumming of the shower.

“You know what I want to do now? What will make me happier?”

He starts walking backwards out to the wet patio and you open your mouth and giggle,

“Oh my god, Professor! What are you doing?”

He shoots you a wink and steps under the heavy rain. Then he tilts his head up, closing his eyes and exposing his face to the drops, falling from the sky.

“Please, come back inside!” You walk up to him, still standing under the cover of the roof. You place your hand on his shoulder and grab him lightly. “Come back inside, you’ll get cold. I’m not sad anymore, I promise.”

Just a few moments under the downpour are enough to drench him and when he looks at you, his glasses are all wet, curls are stuck to his forehead, his sweater is soaked.

“Do you like walking in the rain, sweetheart?”

“Well, sometimes yeah, I guess, but…”

“Great!”

With that, he grabs your hand on his shoulder and pulls you out onto the wet grass. You gasp, feeling the rain drops on your face and body again, your clothes and slippers getting wet slowly but surely. You try to get back inside but he quickly closes the windows and stands in front of you, not letting you through.

“Come on, sweetheart, enjoy this summer rain with me.”

“I will but maybe inside the house?” you plead, trying to cover your head with your hands.

“And where's the fun in that? C’mon,” he returns your pleading gaze with his own, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Let’s enjoy the moment. Do what you want. Don’t worry about the future. Live now.”

His hands leave your shoulders and he steps up closer, making you walk further from the cover of his house. Watching him prowl towards you like that, with a charming smile, his hands in the pockets of his slacks, sends a surge of arousal through your core and you feel yourself getting wet not only from the rain. You stop and he does too, an arm length from you.

You two are standing in the middle of the backyard, smiling at each other, while the heavy rain is soaking your clothes, drawing wet paths down your faces.

You follow his lead from a few moments ago, looking up and closing your eyes. You feel the drops caressing your skin, kissing your eyelids, nose, lips and then sliding down your neck. For a moment you let go of your fears and hopes that weigh on you rather than motivate you and just feel, taking a deep breath.

When you open your eyes a few moments later, there’s something different about the way Professor Miller is looking at you. His cheer is gone and he’s serious again but not in his usual ‘I’m a professor’ way. His gaze is focused on you, dark eyes tracing your features with quiet hunger.

“What would you like to do right now?” He asks you, tilting his head to the side. The answer comes to you like lightning and you act on it immediately.

You take a step, reach up and kiss him. It’s just a peck but you stay there for a few seconds pressing your wet lips to his.

He breathes in sharply against your mouth and the realization of what you’ve just done hits you like a freight train. You part from him and step back, your eyes filled with terror.

You’re staring at each other for a few long moments, only the sound of rain and your pounding heartbeat breaking the silence. You open your mouth to dump all possible apologies on your tutor but you have no time to do it because in the next moment Professor Miller kisses you.

One hand on your neck, the other on your arm he’s kissing you, keeping you close, but not grabbing you. You can stop it any second. You don’t. You revel in the feeling of his lips gently caressing yours. They taste like rain. His thumb is sliding along your jaw and your pussy aches with need. You’re cold from the rain but burning up inside for him at the same time. A shiver runs through your body and his lips leave yours.

“Let’s go back inside. You are freezing,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. You curse your body for interrupting the most beautiful moment of your life but follow him when he takes your hand in his and leads you back into the house.

You’re dripping on his carpet in the living room until Professor Miller brings towels and you dry yourselves. He takes off his sweater and you swallow loudly when he rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt exposing his big forearms. His tousled wet curls take your breath away. One curl falls on his forehead and your heart hurts from how handsome he looks. He places his glasses on the coffee table and asks you,

“Would you like to change? I can give you my shirt. Or find something of Sarah.”

After discarding his soaked cardigan, you look down and see your sheer wet blouse sticking to your breasts but you don’t feel uncomfortable or embarrassed any more. You shake your head, wanting him to see you, all of you. The realization makes you gush and your pussy tingles, making you press your thighs together.

“God, you’re shivering, you can get sick,” he fusses over you and he’s right, you’re trembling all over, but not only because of the rain-drenched clothes. Your whole world is upside down. You shoved your crush on Professor Miller into the furthest corner of your heart, being scared of it. You were always good at limiting and controlling yourself, at making yourself feel less, not acting on your desires.

Until today.

Shaking legs bring you to the sofa and you sit down. He takes a blanket from the side of it and wraps you in it, rubbing your arms and back over the material, trying to warm you up.

He’s so close to you. You stare at his wet face, lashes stuck together, lips shining with the rain or your saliva or both.

It feels like a dream that you don’t want to end. His hands leave you and you look at each other. His gaze slides down to your lips and your heart flutters. You wonder if you have enough courage to kiss him again.

Suddenly you hear a loud thunder and jump in your seat. You look around and it’s like you finally woke up. Your heart freezes at the thought, ‘You kissed Professor Miller! You kissed your fucking tutor! Your mom’s friend! Fuck!’

Your head whips back to him. “I’m so sorry,” you mumble, trying not to burst into tears, your throat getting squeezed with embarrassment. “I…I don’t know why I’ve done it. I must have lost my mind. I’m sorry. Thank you for taking pity on me, Professor.”

His hand darts to your shoulder but he swiftly puts it away.

“First of all, call me Joel, please …and what do you mean by pity? I didn’t take pity on you. I acted inappropriately but… I wish you could see what I see when I look at you.”

You drop your head and murmur under your breath, “A complete mess?”

He sighs and takes your hand in his. His big warm palm engulfs it completely and you look up at him, not being able to contain yourself anymore, as tears well up in your eyes. His voice is warm and soft and so pleasant you wish he’d never stop talking.

“You’re a wonderful young woman. Intelligent, kind, capable of anything you’ll set your mind to. Your future is bright, I'm sure of it.”

You smile and tears roll down your cheeks.

“And you’re very beautiful. I hope someone tells you this.”

You sniff, eyes downcast, and shake your head, making your tears fall. Joel gently takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your head up so you would look at him. His face is blurry with all the wetness in your eyes. He cups your cheek and brushes a tear away with his thumb.

“Well, then let me do it. You’re the most beautiful woman I know.”

Your heart stops. At least you think so because what you’re hearing can not be real. You died and went to heaven otherwise it’s unbelievable that Professor Miller… Joel is telling you this.

You’re gawking at him and he chuckles before taking his hand away.

“I love that I can see all your emotions on your face.”

You hastily close your mouth and try to collect yourself while a whirlwind of feelings swirls in your stomach.

“And I don’t regret kissing you.”

You search his face for a sign of a joke, but find none. He looks and sounds serious and you feel yourself lean closer to him.

“Me neither, Joel,” you whisper, his name sweet on your tongue, and lean forward a little. It takes him a second to meet you halfway and kiss you. He takes the lead and moves his lips slowly and gently against yours but you feel that he’s holding himself down by the way he breathes, the way his lips move faster and with more vigor until he stops himself. You feel hot wrapped in the warm blanket so still glued to him you unwrap yourself and it pools at your feet.

“You’ll get cold,” he mumbles against your lips and you shake your head no, still kissing him. You don’t want it to end so you desperately cling to him with only your lips touching.

Another thunder shakes the house and you feel his hand on your naked knee. You part your legs and scoot closer to him and his thumb brushes your inner thigh. Your whole body erupts with chills.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers as his lips leave yours, “Your legs are ice cold.” He puts his hands on your arms, “And you’re still shivering, poor thing.”

You’re about to explain that it’s not because of the rain or wet clothes, at least not only. It’s him, his plush lips on yours, his warm hands gliding over your skin, his eyes looking at you so differently from what you’re used to. All of it makes every cell in your body vibrate, your stomach churn, your core burn with arousal.

But before you can tell him all that, he says something that makes you stop in your tracks, “Would you like to take a bath?”

For the hundredth time today you’re staring at him with your mouth agape.

“H-here? In your house?” you stumble, blinking at him.

“Yes. There's a nice tub upstairs in my bedroom.” He hears himself and hastily adds, “It’s not like that. Ehm… You can take it and I’ll wait for you here. I’m afraid you’ll get sick because of my carelessness.”

His beautiful brown eyes are pleading you to agree. You don’t want to leave him but your sodden cold clothes make the offer of a hot bath sound better with every second.

So you nod and he beams at you. In a second he’s walking upstairs and you’re trailing behind him, your hand in his. He leads you to his bedroom and you quickly look around, seeing that it’s perfect like the rest of his house, simple but cozy. You follow him to the en-suite bathroom and he starts the water. He explains to you how to make it colder and hotter like you’ve never seen a bathtub before but you don’t get offended or annoyed. He’s nervous, it’s visible and it makes you jittery too. Suddenly the idea of being alone without him makes you sad and your heart aches.

The tub fills up fast and while he’s telling you about the bath salts and towels you interrupt him,

“Can you stay?”

Now it’s his turn to gawk at you.

“When…until it’s full?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No, when I take it. Can you stay with me?”

He swallows loudly and takes a step closer to you.

“Sweetheart, I’ve crossed so many lines today. I’m not sure I can cross this one.”

“You told me to do what I want right? And I want you to stay with me, Joel,” you say louder, trying to feign confidence, before taking a step to him.

“Are you sure?”

You look deep into his eyes, so close that you can see your own reflection in them and reply,

“I'm not sure about anything in my life… but I'm sure that I want this,” you say, drawing an invisible line between your hearts with your finger, and add, “Really badly.”

His dark eyes are darting between yours as if he’s looking for a trace of doubt in them. He won’t find any. He’s reading your features and they probably tell him something because in the next moment he slowly leans to you. The kiss is soft but the more you taste him the more confident you get.

So you press your body to his and he groans when your lower belly touches his bulge. Your heart and pussy flutter when you realize how big and stiff he is. Is it because of you? A part of you can’t believe a man like him can be interested in you but his body can’t lie.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, pulling away but, in an attempt to interrupt something you don’t want to hear, you raise your hands and start unbuttoning your wet blouse.

Joel’s eyes are glued to your fingers, working their way up your top. Soon your belly is revealed, then sternum and your breasts, covered by the bra. You slide the blouse off your body and it pools at your feet.

“You’re so beautiful,” Joel whispers, as his hand slowly lifts to your breast and he brushes your nipple through the thin lace of the bra with his thumb. It’s already perked up from all the kissing and the cold and you whimper, your body vibrating with desire at the slightest touch of his big hand.

You get impatient and take your skirt off too. You’re standing in front of him wearing nothing but a lace white set and Joel growls like a hungry wolf. You bite your lip, hearing the sound of his desire for you.

His gaze slides from your face to your breasts, belly, hips, legs and up to your face again. He seems to make a decision because soon he starts unbuttoning his shirt too.

“I’m going to hell,” he mumbles as the expanse of his chest is revealed to you and you salivate seeing his golden skin, soft belly, happy trail that leads down. Your clit twitches when he unzips his pants.

Soon his clothes join yours on the floor and he places his hands on your waist. You try not to look at the huge tent in his boxers but fail miserably. He smiles and pulls you into his arms and you hug his middle. He’s big and hot against your cold skin and your whole body erupts in goosebumps.

“Still shivering, poor thing, let’s get you into the hot water,” he whispers and his hands slide to your back. He searches for your eyes and after you look up and nod, he unclasps your bra and takes it off you.

His chest is heaving when his gaze moves down to your naked breasts but he doesn’t stop stripping you. With his fingers hooked in your panties, he waits for your permission and then slides them down. They fall on the floor around your feet and you step out of them.

His eyes are completely obsidian now and his hands dart to you but he stops himself.

“Could you help me?” You ask and turn around before offering him your hand. He takes it and you step into the full tub. The water feels scolding hot at first but all your senses are focused on Joel and you lower yourself into the hot water. Sitting in the middle of the tub you look at his bulge, which is at your eye level now.

“Join me, please,” you plead and he mumbles soft “yeah,” before pulling his boxers down. His cock springs free and your pussy buzzes with anticipation and fear because he’s really big and thick.

Joel gets in the water behind you, his legs bent at the knees by your sides. He puts his hands on your shoulders and pulls you to lie down against his chest.

You rest your back on his warm broad chest and he wraps his arms around your waist. You feel his cock twitch against your lower back and a quiet whimper escapes your lips, “Joel.”

He almost purrs hearing how you said his name. You feel his heart beating hard at your back. His body, so big and strong, envelops you, warms you up better than the hot water around you and you feel like it’s where you belong, in his arms, reveling in his warmth, his softness, ready to give him anything he’d wish for.

The ache in your pussy gets harder to ignore and you squirm between his legs. He takes a sharp breath and bucks his hips against your butt. You feel his lips at your temple as he plants a kiss there.

“You’re so hot,” he praises you as his hands slide up your body and he cups your breasts. He palms your pebbled nipples and you moan, pressing your thighs together.

Then you tilt your head to the side and back and look up at Joel. His face is twisted in pleasure, eyes blown, and he lowers his head and catches your lips with his. This kiss is different from the ones you’ve shared before. Craving, impatience in every stroke of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, and you drown in pleasure of his caress.

Suddenly it’s not enough for the both of you. Without saying a word to each other you sit up and turn around while he helps you shift in the tub with his hands on your waist. You’re facing him now, standing on your knees, and he takes in your wet naked body before whispering,

“Let me make you feel good, sweetheart.”

You breathe out a soft ‘ok’ and in a second he lifts you up and sets you on the edge of the tub in the corner. You lean your back against the cold tile wall and shiver. Joel notices your reaction and starts pouring the water over you so you’d warm up again.

When you say that you’re not cold, he stands on his knees in front of you, his hands planted on the edge of the tub by your sides. He cages you in between his broad torso and the wall and your pussy pulsates for him.

“Could you spread your legs for me, please?” he says, sitting down on his heels, as his chest is pressed to your knees.

You slowly do what he asked and your pussy blooms for him, folds opening up to his view and Joel’s breath hitches and he llicks his lips at the sight.

“Oh, my,” he mumbles and glances up at you, "You have the most gorgeous pussy, sweetheart." That word on his lips sends a fiery wave through every inch of your body and you whimper, when he moves into the space between your legs, spreading your thighs wider with his broad torso.

His plush lips parted, eyes blown and restless, he takes you in - his gaze hastily runs over your face, breast, belly, cunt as if he can't get enough of you. He reaches for your face and kisses you deeply and passionately. His hand brushes against your aching pussy and you moan.

"My sweet girl," he whispers against the corner of your mouth and his soft lips move down to your neck, collar bone, chest. He's swirling his tongue over your nipple, his hand kneading your breast while you are running your fingers through his damp curls.

Soon he gets to your pussy and when his hot lips touch you there you almost come against his mouth.

“You’re sweet all over, honey,” he mumbles against your twitching clit, hunching down. Then he grabs your ankle in the water and lifts your leg.

“Put your foot on the edge, yeah, like that, good girl.” You’re completely exposed to him now but your desire shuts all your insecurities and you ache to show him every inch of you without any shame.

Soon you’re moaning and writhing on the edge of the tub as his tongue is dancing over your clit before his lips close around it and he gently sucks on the bud, keeping your folds spread with his thick fingers.

You’ve never felt more euphoric in your life and he approvingly hums against your pussy, when you whisper his name again and again, alternating it with whimpers and soft ‘yeah’s’.

“Damn, I can come just from hearing you, honey. What are you doing to me?” He says, looking up at you from between your thighs, eyes glistening. He looks completely pussy-drunk and it must be taking everything from him not to spill his seed into the bath water right now.

You give him a little apologetic smile and he continues pleasuring you. Joel’s caresses are slow and gentle, he’s almost edging you but when you start moving your hips, searching for more friction, he reads your signal immediately.

“Need more, sweetheart?”

You nod eagerly and with his hands on your inner thighs he starts devouring your pussy, his growls full of lust. The flat of his tongue is rubbing against your clit, then the warm muscle plunges into your crying hole as his nose nudges your clit and soon you’re screaming, shaking with the hardest climax of your life.

Joel laps at your juices, generously dripping into his greedy mouth as you’re digging your fingers into his broad shoulders, clenching around his tongue when he slides it inside you.

“Yeah… like that. Oh, my good girl,” Joel mumbles, his words muffled by your pussy.

When your climax dissipates, you rest your head back against the wall and he stays between your legs, peppering kisses on your inner thighs. His palms glide up and down your legs as you’re catching your breath.

When you look down, your eyes well up with tears when you see this big, gorgeous, intelligent, hot man on his knees in front of you. A voice inside your head reminds you that he’s much older, your parents will kill you, you’re fucked. But you push all your fears away when he gently helps you get back in the water and sets you on his lap.

Straddling him, you look into his eyes. You’re feeling a myriad of emotions but the brightest one makes your heart sing - you finally feel like yourself, confident, free, happy.

“Thank you,” you whisper with a smile, grateful for the pleasure but also for the self assurance he gave you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He returns your smile with the warmest grin and pulls you into his embrace before kissing you. His big arms envelop your torso as you melt against his chest.

His cock twitches between your bodies and the fire in your core ignites with a new force.

“I want you inside,” you whisper, nuzzling his neck.

“Oh, darling… I wish for nothing more but … I’m afraid to hurt you.”

You sit up straight and drop your gaze into the water. His cock looks painfully hard and huge and you take a sharp breath, imagining it piercing you.

“I wanna try,” you say with confidence.

He searches for any doubt in your eyes again and then nods. Joel helps you to stand on your knees in the bath, holding you steady with his hand on your hip, the other holding his cock at the base.

“Start slowly and if it hurts… stop any second, ok?”

You agree, positioning yourself right above his waiting cock and begin lowering your hips.

You feel his hot tip bump into your clit and, feeling a burst of pleasure, you grind against it a few times. You both moan at the sensation and Joel tightens his grip on your body.

His handsome face twisted in pleasure might be the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You don’t tear your eyes off him, wishing the image got sealed in your memory forever.

You shift a little, nudge your hole with his fat head and start sinking on his throbbing member.

He’s big. Really big.

You widen your eyes as his length parts your folds and slides inside you, surprisingly easily thanks to your recent orgasm.

Joel leans back against the tub and watches your pussy swallow him in the water, his brows furrowed, half-lidded eyes set on the place where you two are slowly joining.

You lower yourself further as your walls spread, trying to accommodate his member inside you. It hurts a little but you’re so aroused you hardly notice it.

Joel moans when you’re finally flush with him, his cock filling your wet heat perfectly.

“Fuck, ohhh, fuck… I’m sorry for all the cursing, honey, but your pussy feels fucking incredible.”

You smile at the praise and clench around him making him squeeze his eyes shut.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?” he asks with his eyes still closed.

You shake your head, but hastily add ‘no’, realizing he can’t see you.

“I’ve had a boyfriend. But he dumped me pretty quickly.”

He looks at you, brows furrowed, as he hears a slight sadness in your voice.

“His loss, sweetheart,” he says, gently taking your neck between his palms.

His gaze slides down your body to your pussy.

“Hnggg, you’re so tight.”

“Sorry. “

“What? No, it’s .. Gosh, I can’t think straight when you …look like this, wrapped around my cock. I’m in heaven.”

His warm hand rises to your face and he cups your heated cheek. You nuzzle into it smiling against his palm. Then you move your face a little and when you feel his thumb at your lips you part them and take it into your mouth.

His cock throbs deliciously inside you, and he moans as your tongue swirls over his thick finger.

“Oh my god, you naughty thing. You’re going to be the death of me.”

You smile around his finger and roll your hips a little. You both almost scream at the sensation. His thumb slips out of your open mouth as a wave of pleasure rushes through you. You seem to feel his cock everywhere. You can’t stop now, not with the way his thick length massages your pussy on the inside, sending bolts of ecstasy through your body.

You start fucking yourself on his stiff cock and you both fill the room with groans and whimpers, adding them to the soft splashing of the tub water.

He tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut while you feel another climax building.

“Oh, Professor,” you moan and he groans, clenching his teeth,

“Don’t.”

“What?” You ask and bite your lip, seeing that he’s deep in the pits of lust just like you are.

“Because I won’t let you stop calling me that,” he groans and your heart sings at the implication of you two doing it again in the future.

Not giving him any respite you breathe out, “It feels so good, Professor,” and start bouncing on his throbbing cock.

Joel moans but then holds you down.

“Baby, are you on the pill? I can’t… I’m gonna come soon.”

“No,” you reply through panting and he furrows his brows,

“Shit… not sure I have condoms,” he says, his eyes darting between yours. He clears his throat and adds, “I haven’t been with anyone for …some time now.”

You feel like he wants to apologize and you shut him up with a kiss.

“It’s ok. I’ll get Plan B. I want…want it inside me,” you whisper against his lips and sit up, starting to move again. You roll your hips, feeling your clit rub against his soft belly, and whimpers escape your parted lips again and again.

“Fuck, look at you,” he mumbles, watching your body slowly move on him. He’s almost drooling as his palm slides from your neck to your chest, over the swells of your breasts, brushing against your erect nipples, caressing the soft skin of your belly. He dips his hand in the water and presses it to a lump right over your mound and moans,

“Oh, fuck, I can feel my cock right here… do you feel me deep, baby? Tell me.”

“Yes, Professor,”

“Shit, I’m not gonna last, gonna fill you up.”

Looking down, you see it, the bulge in your belly moving up and down, his cock inside you stretching your skin.

With a loud moan, you clench around him and it sends a chain reaction making your pussy vibrate and contract, as another climax starts shaking your body.

“Yeah, baby, just like that… squeeze my fat cock, my good fucking girl.”

Not being able to hold any longer, Joel erupts inside your core, jets of cum spurting against your walls. You feel hot from the water and his heated body and now there’s warmth inside you too, your pussy’s getting filled with him.

You’re fucking yourself on his exploding cock while he’s sucking on your neck, and then he holds you so tight, it gets difficult to breathe. Every cell in your body is screaming with pleasure and you wish this moment never passed, he was inside you forever, holding you close.

When you both feel your climaxes subside, Joel leans back against the wall and pulls you to lie on his chest. You stay like this for a few minutes, plugged by his cock and full of his seed. You breathe in the scent of his skin, your hands on his chest as he rocks you like a big strong wave, slowly breathing in and out. You feel an immense affection towards him, and your throat gets squeezed with upcoming tears. You try to hide them from him but when you sniff he gently cups your cheek and makes you look at him.

“Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” he asks, looking you over with worry in his gaze.

“No, I’m just… I’m just happy. I’m sorry.”

You smile at each other until he takes your face in his big hands and plants kisses on your eyes, cheeks, nose, chin, lips. You giggle when his facial hair tickles your delicate skin and he laughs with you.

Your bodies relaxed, hunger satiated, you stay in the bath for a few more minutes while he’s pouring water with his hands over your shoulders to keep you warm.

When the temperature lowers, he gets out of the tub and brings you a big fluffy towel while you shamelessly watch him move naked and wet around the bathroom. He helps you to get up and you bite your lip when his cock twitches at the sight of your body on display for him. He clears his throat and starts gently drying your skin. The memory takes you back to him drying you in his living room, before you crossed the line with him and you marvel how much changed between now and then.

You feel happy for the first time in a long time but also scared of what happens next. What if he goes back to being just your tutor, what if he doesn’t want to see you at all, what if your parents find out… The thoughts rush through your mind and he reads your face again and asks, “What is it, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, driving away your fears. Joel wraps you in the towel and you gasp when he lifts you. He laughs, carrying you to his bedroom, and then lowers you gently on the bed.

“Get under the duvet, sweetheart.”

You listen to him and get comfortable in his bed. The sheets smell of him and you can’t help but gush again. He brings your clothes and you sit up reaching for them so you could put them on but he stops you.

“Stay here. I’ll go get you the pill,” he says and makes you lie back down. After getting dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, Joel tucks you in and kisses you gently before leaving.

You hear his car drive off and fall into the comfort of his bed. You close your eyes for a second suddenly feeling tired.

You wake up from soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, lips.

“I hate to wake you up, honey, but your parents are worried.”

You sit up rubbing your eyes and holding the duvet over your naked breasts. You see the pill and a glass of water on the nightstand and take it.

“They called?” You ask, swallowing Plan B.

“Yes, I told them you needed to do some extra exercises.”

You giggle but he looks upset. Your fears come back again.

“You regret it,” you whisper, as your eyes well up with tears.

In a second you’re in his big arms and he whispers against your cheek,

“Never, baby. I don’t. But I can’t help but feel guilty. I should know better. I feel like I’m robbing you of your time. You should be someone young, someone who can give you more.”

You search for his eyes and take his face in your hands.

“No, I don’t want anyone else. I want… I need you.”

You kiss him and pull him to lie over you on the bed. You’re making out holding each other close. The rain has stopped and you can hear birds chirping outside through an open window.

“Fuck.. I need to go,” you whine, parting from Joel and reaching for your clothes at the foot of the bed.

“Language, young lady,” he scolds you with a smirk. You bite your lip and purr with a sultry tone, “Sorry, Professor.”

You love how this word makes him shiver with arousal now.

He adjusts himself, cursing under his breath and his dark eyes are watching you while you’re giving him a little show while putting on your clothes - gliding your hands over your body, slowly slipping into your panties and bra. When you slide your arms into your already dry blouse, he gets up to button it up for you. Soon your lips gravitate towards each other and it takes a lot from you to part from him again.

You go downstairs and Joel offers to drive you home but you politely refuse.

“I’ll walk. I love the smell of the air after rain,” you smile ready to leave, standing at the door, “besides someone told me to enjoy myself more so I’m gonna follow his advice.”

You smile at each other and he gives you a farewell kiss, hugging you, before whispering in your ear, “My sweet girl. Thank you.”

You look deeply into his eyes and ask,

“See you on Thursday?”

“Yes, but you’re going to study.” Your widened sad eyes make him chuckle as he adds, “Among other things.”

You beam at him, peck his lips and walk out of the door, feeling wings behind your back.

*****

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[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 2

Masterlist || AO3

Pairing: Millionaire Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.  Chapter Summary: Try as he might, Joel just can’t shake the memory of you. Try as you might, you can’t stop thinking of the woman tied to his desk. CW: The slow burn is burning. Mentions of death and underage drinking. Topless in public, this is a love story about BDSM after all. Reader does have some physical descriptions, so maybe more of an OFC, or just pretend you have pouty lips and a slightly upturned nose. Double POV (reader and Joel). AN: Thank you SO FUCKING MUCH for all the love on chapter one of this story. I literally cannot believe it surpasses 1000 notes in just a month, you're all insane and I love you. Dividers by @saradika-graphics. Biiiig shout outs to the bb's who have been so supportive of me spiralling and panicking this last month over the next chapter. I'd be in a deep dark cave without you @mermaidgirl30 @littlevenicebitch69 @lotusbxtch @evolnoomym @joelmillerisapunk and @milla-frenchy . Thank you! I feel like I'm giving some sort of Oscars speech and if you're still reading this, you're the real MVP. XO Word Count: 8.5k

~ Joel - 27 Years Ago ~

Joel’s stands in the garage of someone he barely knows, surrounded by drunk and rowdy classmates from his high school. He’s a senior, graduating in just a few weeks and moments like this are one of the perks of being the star designated hitter and first baseman, everyone wants you at their party. Someone hands him a warm, flat beer that was pumped poorly from a keg as they pat his back roughly in congratulations. Joel’s not sure how a bunch of seventeen year olds managed to get a keg, most likely an older brother, but he drinks the shitty beer all the same. Speaking of brothers, he hasn’t seen Tommy in a while. He’s only fifteen and he promised their mom he’d keep an eye on him. The younger Miller shouldn’t be at a seniors party, but that's where those perks come in again, because if Joel was good, Tommy was better. In fact, he was so much better that he’s played up a whole age group his entire life, always right beside Joel. Tommy was the back catcher, and tonight he got the eleventh inning game winning out at home for them to win the state championship. 

He finds Tommy chatting with a group of girls, all of whom are incredibly beautiful. They’re going to be very disappointed when they find out how much younger he is than them. Joel smiles into his red solo cup as he takes a sip of stale beer. He tucks his free hand into the pocket of his light blue wranglers and walks over to the wall of the garage. He leans back and crosses one cowboy booted foot over the other. The brim of his cowboy hat grazes the unpainted drywall behind him. Texas, and the country, in the late nineties was where everyone wanted to be, and Joel Miller could have been the poster boys for teenage country boys in 1997.

Brooks & Dunn plays on someone's CD player in the corner, laughter and people talking overlaps until it’s just noise to Joel. He stands back, watching his younger brother effortlessly charm the five pretty girls around him. All of them in tight blue jeans, lacy white tops, denim vests and cowboy boots. He grabs one by the hand and Joel overhears, “I’ll teach ya how to two step, shame to not know in a place like this.” Then the motherfucker winks at her like he’s some sort of cowboy Casanova. Joel lets out a silent laugh through his nose and sips the beer again shaking his head. 

Just as Tommy pulls the pretty little blonde over towards the unmarked and unofficial dance floor in the corner of the garage the song changes. Slow guitar, followed by the unmistakable twang of Tim Magraw’s voice. Joel didn’t know it then, but that song would change the course of his life and intertwine itself in the very fabric of his being.

‘Dancin’ in the dark, Middle of the night’

That’s when he sees her, tall and slender, deep olive toned skin and pale green eyes. Her dark curly hair cascades over one of her shoulders. She’s laughing with another classmate, and even though he can’t hear the sound of it over the noise of the party, he can tell it’s a light and melodic sound, and he wants to spend the rest of his life drawing that out of her. 

‘Takin’ your heart, An holdin’ it tight’

He puts his warm beer on the work bench beside him and takes off his black felt Stetson, placing it over his broad chest, hoping the comfort of his favourite hat would slow the rate at which his heart is beating. 

‘Emotional touch, Touchin’ my skin, And askin’ you to do, What you’ve been doin’ all over again’

She looks over at him, smiling shyly, and before he knows what he’s doing he’s walking over to her. His legs move on their own accord, knees shaking as he approaches the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

‘Oh, it’s a beautiful thing, Don’t think I can keep it all in, I just gotta let you know, What is that won’t let me go’

Everything in the room fades as she fully comes into view. Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe the girl in front of him. She radiates a warmth that he’s only ever known his mother to radiate. It’s the first time he’s ever seen this girl, but she feels like home. This is it, that one thing that everyone says you’re supposed to feel. The thing his grandpa told him when he was younger, “Son, you’ll just know. It sounds ridiculous, but when I saw your grandma it was like a pull behind my belly button. I just knew, and I’ve known everyday since then.”

“Howdy, ma’am,” Joel says, tipping his hat to her before placing it back on his head. 

She giggles, confirming his earlier thoughts. It really is the sweetest fucking sound he’s ever heard. “Hi.”

He holds out a hand to her and she takes it, her skin is so warm and smooth. In that moment he knows that hers will be the last hand he ever holds. Fire flushes through his veins as he continues, “I’m Joel, what’s your name?”

“Oh, I know who you are Joel Miller,” she flirts, not letting go of his hand. “I’m Tiffany.”

“Tiffany,” he repeats, his voice going deeper as he says it. It’s egotistical but he loves the way girls shiver just a little when he lowers his register. “And how is it that you know who I am?”

She slides her hand from his and reaches up to grab his cowboy hat, plopping it onto her head. “Star first baseman and designated hitter, everyone knows Joel Miller. Look around, look at all these girls lookin’ at you, cowboy.”

For the first time in his life Joel finds himself blushing, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Tiffany. 

“I only see one girl.” She rolls her eyes and swats at his bicep at the cheesy line, but that was it for both of them. From that point they were inseparable. 

They both turned eighteen a few months later, and just ten months, and a thirty two hour labour after Tiff turned eighteen, a tiny little Sarah came into the world all pink and screaming. Joel hears that song again as he watches Tiffany hold that little bundle of blankets, ‘Better than I was, More than I am, And all of this happened, By taking your hand.’

They get married when Sarah is just a few months old. Both his beautiful curly haired girls in white dresses, Tiffany grabbing that same black Stetson off his head during their first dance. He holds them both, swaying from side to side, a hot tear rolling down his cheek at how goddamn happy he is. ‘And who I am now, Is who I wanted to be, And now that we’re together, I’m stronger than ever, I’m happy and free’.

Things for their little family of three are perfect. They buy the house with the white picket fence and the wrap around porch. Joel gets a job working construction and enjoys a nightcap with his beautiful young wife on their front porch every night. They make love often, slow and sweaty, Joel worshiping her soft copper toned skin inch by glorious inch. Tiffany wraps every minute of her day around Sarah and being a sweet, devoted housewife. Nothing seems to stand in their way. Until the diagnosis shortly before Sarah starts Kindergarten. 

Tiffany is too young, they’re all too young. This isn’t something that happens to people their age, they haven’t had enough time. Joel spends the next few months in a haze, it has to be a bad dream. The appointments, the treatments, the call to 911 when the illness starts to win. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. 

He holds Tiffany until the very end. Sponging a soft kiss to her forehead, whispering his goodbyes as they shut off the machines keeping her here. “You’ve been so strong, my love. You fought so hard. I know you’re scared to go, I’m scared too, but we’ll do it like we do everything else. Together. I’ll be ok, Sarah will be ok. Just rest now. I love you.” 

As she takes her last shaky and shallow breath, a sound will live with him until he takes a breath that matches hers, that song echoes through his hollow chest. ‘It’s your love, It does something to me, It sends a shock right through me, I can’t get enough’.

You - Present Day

You roll to a stop outside Mister Miller’s house for your second day of cleaning. As you look towards the impressive house your pussy flutters at the memories of yesterday - the almost pornographic noises that were made in that office, his soft and kind eyes as he apologized profusely in the kitchen. You were supposed to go to a study group last night, but instead you got lost in a rabbit hole of porn where women are tied up and fingered. You got yourself off four times thinking about a man you’re not even supposed to know, wishing it was his thick fingers hitting that spot inside of you that you can’t reach on your own. You felt guilty about it last night and now being back in his home you have that same sinking feeling again. 

Stupid. Sacrificing my future for a fantasy. Never again. 

You let yourself in the house and look at the list in your cleaning app. You pop in your AirPods and start listening to your favourite true crime podcast; thankful for the new episode, a gruesome distraction as you scrub baseboards and lightswitches. The episode ends and in an attempt to not let your mind wander to the gorgeous man that lives here, and the depraved new things you’ve discovered about yourself, you start an educational audiobook about civil rights law. You might want Joel Miller to strap you down and whisper filth in your ears, but you are a good person, and your aspiration in life is to help people who face discrimination on a daily basis. 

You breeze around his home, checking off each task and before you know it it’s almost one in the afternoon. You have almost your whole list complete, his soft sheets are in the dryer (and yes, you are incredibly proud of yourself for only putting the luxurious white fabric to your face twice on the way to the washer). You only have the patio furniture to spray down and the kitchen counters to wipe. That’s when your stomach growls, almost as if to remind you that it’s the perfect time to take a break while the dryer finishes. You haul all your stuff out to your car and lock up, sitting in your front seat as you take out your lunch container.

An engine revs in the distance and your heart skips in your chest. Before you even have time to wonder if it’s Joel’s car, one of the black garage doors slides open and Joel’s obsidian coloured Aston Martin rolls by you, stopping with precision on the shiny cement floor of the garage. You avert your eyes, focused on your container of chicken noodle soup. The left side of your face feels the warmth of his gaze fixed on you. Without looking over you can tell he is studying you and it takes everything you have to keep your eyes on your measly lunch. 

The afternoon sun is blocked as Joel raps his knuckles on your window. You glance over at him, looking up through your lashes. He’s looking at you intensely but you can’t quite place his expression. As always, his deep brown eyes are locked on yours, he could either be happy to see you or incredibly disappointed in you. But one thing is for sure, he’s calculating your every need with those warm and inviting eyes. He knocks again so you crank the handle to roll your window down a crack.

He raises one eyebrow at you, both hands rest on the roof of your SUV as he leans forward to speak to you through the small opening in the window. “Seriously?” His voice is laced with sarcasm. 

“What?” You say, “Can’t be too safe.”

He blinks at you before continuing, “What'd ya doin’ out here?”

You lift your tupperware container a little, willing the tingles between your thighs to stop, “Eating my lunch.”

He rolls his eyes, running his hand along his greying scruff. “You’re eatin’ lukewarm soup in your car in the middle of February.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, but his voice is warm and curious, and you start to realize that the look on his face isn’t happiness or disappointment, but concern. 

You nod, “Yes.” His eyes dance around your face and you swear your heart is beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Fluttering so fast that it’s traveling up your throat and you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it. 

“Get out of the car. Come warm that up and eat inside.” His voice is thick with concern, entire face soft as he looks at you. 

You swallow your heart back down to where it belongs, “I’m not allowed to do that, Mister Miller.”

His cheeks redden a little and some of the softness in him disappears, “Don’t call me that, it’s jus’ Joel to you.”

“I’m not even supposed to know your name, Mister Miller. I can’t call you by your first name.”

He shifts his weight onto one foot and points a thick finger at you through your window, “Don’t. Either you call me Joel or nothin’ at all. Come inside,” he drops his pointer finger to the door handle. He pulls on it to find it locked. “Seriously?”

“I told you, I can’t be too safe!” You can help but think how cute he looks all flustered - shaking his head at you for being cautious in a neighborhood where you could probably scream your credit card number and no one would use it. If anything, the wealthy homeowners on this street might transfer you money when they see the state of your vehicle. 

“You’re eatin’ inside.” He says flatly. 

“I told you, I can’t. We aren’t allowed to do that. You’re a client, Mist - I mean. Sorry, I just can’t. We aren’t allowed.” You glance towards the clock on your dash. At this rate your break is going to be over before you finish eating. 

He jiggles the door handle again, as if he can convince the metal to bend and unlatch itself with just his sexiness alone. “You like rules, don’t ya?”

He’s got you there, you do enjoy following the rules. You nod and hum a noise in agreement. 

“Unlock the door, please,” his voice has changed, he’s being more commanding now. A deeper, huskier sound leaving his lips. The sound seems to latch onto something deep in your mind, strong fingers wrapping around the control center of your brain, guiding you to do his bidding. You blink the feeling away. 

“Mister-,” his eyes flash with darkness, “Sorry. I can’t. It wouldn’t be right to eat in your house, plus my break is almost over.”

Joel releases your door handle, raising his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and lets out a breath, as he drops his hand back to the top of your vehicle an amused smirk flashes across his face. “Do you consider yourself to work in customer service?”

“Yes,” you say nervously.

“And isn’t the main rule of customer service that the customer is always right?” His lips form a tight line and a deep dimple carves into one of his tanned cheeks. Your brain flashes back to one of the videos you watched last night, a man sucking on a woman's nipples as he rubbed her clit, her arms and legs strapped to a padded table. He had a dimple, but he had nothing on Joel. 

“Yes,” you croak and then clear your throat gently, shifting in your seat at the fire building behind that bundle of nerves between your thighs. 

“Then unlock the door, darlin’ and eat inside.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, turning and walking towards the house. He stops on the front step, opening the large glass front door. You follow, flip flops slapping on the concrete, carrying your powdered chicken noodle soup and plastic spoon up towards his fancy home. When you reach the threshold, he holds out his large hand palm up and you place the old, stained tupperware with your half eaten soup into it. He looks down at it and then back at you, eyes trailing along your body and it feels like he’s running a torch over you. “Is this all you have to eat?”

You nod, giving him a tight lipped smile. 

He cocks his head towards the kitchen and one pushed back curl that’s laced with a few greys falls into his eyes with the movement. In order to stop from pushing his loose curl back you squeeze your fists gently and head towards the stool you sat on yesterday. As your flip flop hits the tile you stop and look back towards your car nervously. “I, umm, I forgot my shoes.”

His large, warm palm comes to your lower back and he pushes you gently towards the kitchen. You sit as he transfers your soup into a matte black bowl and places it in the microwave. He opens a cupboard and pulls out a loaf of fresh bread, as you go to protest he flicks his eyes up to yours and something about the expression on his face tells you not to argue with him. He pops the two carefully cut pieces into the toaster. He breezes effortlessly around the kitchen for someone so broad and masculine. You didn’t realize someone making toast could be so sexy. The microwave beeps and he grabs a gold spoon from a drawer before wandering around the island, placing them both in front of you. His arm brushes yours as he pulls away and your heart flutters at his touch. He walks back around the kitchen island and grabs a glass. 

“Still or sparkling?” He says as if that’s just a normal question to ask when you get someone a glass of water. Just another thing that proves you don’t belong here. The toaster pops and you jump a little. He chuckles as he grabs the toast, slathering it with butter. “Still or sparkling, darlin’?” 

You breath hitches, he’s called you darlin’ twice now. Is that just that southern charm you hear about so often, or is it more? You shake the thought from your head, there’s no way someone like him is interested in someone like you. “Still is fine, you don’t have to trouble yourself.” 

You take a spoonful of soup, blowing on it gently before putting the spoon in your mouth. Joel is watching you in the same way he was yesterday. Assessing. Observing. Calculating. It feels like he’s looking into your very soul. He slides the plate of toast and then a glass of sparkling water over to you from across the island.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “You didn’t -”

He holds his hand up, stopping you in the same way he did yesterday. “I wanted to.”

You feel your cheeks redden and you have to look away as you take a bite of toast. He’s too handsome standing in the kitchen with the afternoon sun highlighting his features. He’s wearing a black dress shirt today, the top few buttons undone, accentuating the perfectly groomed salt and pepper hair on his chest. You swallow your bite of warm, salty, buttery toast, allowing your eyes to flutter closed at the delectable flavour, holding back a moan. 

Joel clears his throat and crosses his arms across his broad chest, “So how did ya get into cleanin’ houses?”

You look up at him through your lashes. Why is he being so nice to you and taking care of you? He apologized yesterday. And after you told him it was fine he left you a massive tip. He said he wants to do this, but why? He’s rich and handsome and you can probably safely assume that that icy blonde from yesterday was his girlfriend. Unless…could she possibly be a mistress? You decide that that must be it. She’s his mistress. He has a wife. He’s just like every other rich man, cheating on his beautiful and age appropriate wife with someone much much younger than him. He’s probably terrified that you might find out who his wife is and tell her. That tip was hush money.

“I’m saving money,” you say and then shake your head, willing the thoughts in your mind to calm down. “For law school.”

“That right?” He says, raising an eyebrow at you as you take another spoonful of soup.

“Yes, I want to be a lawyer. I graduated a semester early and needed some money before going back to university. Assuming I even get accepted. This job meant I could work part time so I could study to take the LSAT again and also make good money.” You take another bite of the toast, mainly to make yourself shut up. 

He watches you the entire time, nodding along, his eyes constantly assessing. “Take the LSAT again?” he asks.

“I passed it already and applied to schools but I haven’t heard back yet. Law school is pretty competitive, so I’m going to take it again and hopefully have a better mark for the next round of college applications.” You’re talking too much, you need to shut up and just eat, but Joel doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look away. No one has ever listened to you like that, not even your parents.

“Next round?” He asks curiously. 

You feel your cheeks redden. You don’t want to admit to this obviously successful man in front of you that you probably won’t get accepted to any of the eight universities you applied to. “Yes. It’s competitive, and I probably won’t get in. So I’m preparing to be better the second time.”

“Where did you apply? If that’s not too forward of a question.”

“No, not too forward. Umm, a few places. Strength in numbers, I guess. Harvard, Yale, Columbia, Berkeley, Duke, University of Toronto, but I don’t think I’d survive a Canadian winter. I also applied at Notre Dame and University of Texas here in Austin.”

Joel laughs at you mentioning the Canadian winter and once you’re quiet, he looks down at his expensive dress shoes, “I, umm, I know some higher ups at UT Austin if you need me to put in a good word.”

You smile at him when he looks back up at you, “I don’t think that’s quite how it works, Joel. But thank you.”

The two of you are silent for a moment while you finish your first piece of toast. You glance up at him and he’s looking at you with that same hint of pride he had yesterday while you drank your water. He’s making you feel like eating toast is something to be proud of. You can’t explain it but his facial expression wraps around like a corset. Pulling its metaphoric laces and making you sit up taller, holding your head up higher. With just the shimmer in his deep brown eyes you feel like you could take on the world. You need to break the silence so you say, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he says, leaning back to rest on the countertop behind him. His arms uncross, his strong hands wrapping around the countertop on each side of his body. 

“What do you do for a living? To have all this?” You gesture around the house as you sip your sparkling water.

“A few things. I used to own a construction company, sold it a few years ago to retire but I got bored pretty quickly. Now I own a few properties, I rent them out.” You nod as you listen to him, eating your lunch. One hand rubs at his patchy, salt and pepper beard nervously before saying, “I also own a club.”

You let out a little giggle into your water glass, immediately praying that he doesn’t think that was you being rude. Of all the professions that could have come out of his mouth, owning a nightclub was the last thing you expected. Joel smiles at the sweet melodic sound leaving your lips and relief washes over you. “Why’s that so funny?” His voice is light at his inquiry. 

“It’s not,” you say after swallowing your water. He furrows his brows at you. “You just - I mean, I guess I don’t know you, but don’t seem like the nightclub type.”

“You’re right, you don’t know me. But you’re also right that I am not a nightclub type,” he states. Something about the way he says it makes you sense that that’s as far as you’re going to get with it, but you also realize that the club is probably how this man meets young women to bring home.

You put your spoon down and place your hands in your lap. “Can I umm, ask you something else?”

“Of course,” he repeats. 

“What’s with that little dinosaur toy on your coffee maker?”

He smiles and reaches over to grab it, rubbing his thumb along the faded and scuffed brown paint of the little toy. He looks down at it and a hint of sadness seems to fill his coffee and amber eyes as he looks at you. “My daughter, she umm, she got it for me from the prize box in Kindergarten after her mom -” he stops mid sentence, sadness lining his features. Joel’s not married, you roll your eyes at yourself internally for thinking the worst of him. And truthfully, you of all people know he’s not married. You clean his house, you’ve been in his bedroom, and there are no women's clothes. You’ve also been in all the spare bedrooms and there’s no chance another person lives here with him. He continues, choosing his words almost carefully, “Well, just after she was gone.”

“I’m sorry, Mister,” his eyes flash onyx for just a second, he looks lethally sexy and you swallow your words before starting again. “I’m sorry, Joel.”

“It was a long time ago,” he says, placing the dinosaur back. He runs his fingers through his salt and pepper curls, letting out a little sigh. There’s a shift in him, like suddenly the world is heavier. He tries not to let it show, and maybe most people wouldn’t notice, but you see it. The slight fall in his face, a little slump in the shoulders, a breath held for just a second too long. He clears his throat gently and says, “I’ll be in my office. Eat your lunch for me, please.”

Joel

Joel closes the door of his office and rests his forehead against the smooth wooden surface. He can’t remember how much he spent on these doors when he built the house, but he would set any door that separated him from you on fire if he had to. 

Get it together, Joel.

He closes his eyes and only sees you. The way your glossy, pink lips formed a little O as you blew on your soup. The way the gold plated metal spoon slid softly along your tongue. His cock twitches in his pants and he feels the urge to throw all the spoons in his house away. 

Great, you’re jealous of a spoon. 

He shouldn’t be home. He signed a contract, and more importantly, you signed a contract. In order to protect him and you there is to be no contact between the cleaner and the client. That’s what you consented to when you took your job at Maid Discreetly, and now he’s caused you to break that contract not once, but twice. But he cannot seem to get you out of his mind, and as he sat in a meeting at his club he couldn’t focus. You were here, cleaning his home in that form fitting white polo shirt and those black pants that hugged at your hips in all the right places, and he just had to know if you were as beautiful as he remembered. Just a quick peek, he convinced himself as he made up some bullshit excuse to leave. 

When he saw you sitting in your rusty SUV you looked so innocent and pure, you were more than beautiful. The afternoon sun lighting up your high cheekbones and slender, slightly upturned nose, it gave you an almost angelic glow that temporarily took his breath away. If he had to describe you in two words he would say that you were simply ravishing. For the first time in almost thirty years he wished he still had the calming comfort of that black felt cowboy hat. But that soft Stetson went with her because she loved it so much. 

As he caught his breath and looked at you from his garage, he was overcome with an urge to bruise and corrupt you. He’s a bad man for the thoughts he's been having about you. He can’t help himself, but even in his most twisted of fantasies, he’d never do anything you didn’t want him to. But, fuck, he’s sure he could mold you into exactly what he wants in a submissive. 

Joel isn’t new to the world of kink; he’s had many subs, all of whom have referred to him as Mister Miller. However, his name has never sounded so fucking sweet as it did coming off your lips. Those two little words leaving your pouty, pink lips feel like that first sip of whiskey after a long day, and it might kill him if he doesn’t make you his. 

He sighs into the white wood of the door before standing and walking to sit behind his desk. He drops into the soft leather chair and lets his head fall back onto the headrest and closes his eyes. What is it about you? Why can’t he stop thinking about you? You’re way too young. Way too sweet. Way too…sinless. And even though he can’t explain it, and he knows you don’t know it, you’re way too “exactly-what-is-going-to-ruin-his-entire-life”. 

You’re not someone he can just play with. No, he’s good at reading people, and you’re the kind of person that deserves being invested into. You’re also not someone who is going to stick around. You have dreams and well laid out plans on how you’re going to achieve them. He can’t cage you in, he’ll have to let you spread your wings and fly no matter how much he sees himself as the man he used to be reflected back in your eyes.  

He opens his eyes and pictures you kneeling in the corner, perfectly manicured hands that he pays for you to have done weekly folded on your lap as he works. He imagines calling you over with a curl of his fingers, you crawling across the plush carpet and resting your head on his lap as he responds to emails, takes calls, or plans events. He could reach down and run his fingers through your soft, silky hair as you nuzzled deeper into his lap with your cheek. “My perfect, sweet girl,” he’d hum.  

His body falls forward, forehead hitting the sturdy wooden desk with a thump. Jesus Christ, Joel. 

It was one thing when he only found you beautiful - he could live with being attracted to you, he could find a way around it or stuff that attraction down, maybe he’d find a new sub to distract himself with. That would be easy for him, but then you had to open your mouth, you had to speak so passionately about your future. Why couldn’t you just be pretty like all the other women he plays with? You might be one of the most driven people he knows: the way you push yourself, already planning for the next “no”. And that kills him, ruins him really that you are programmed to think there will automatically be a “no” and that you’ll have to endure another round of LSAT’s and college applications. You’re smart, and he wants to kill whoever made you feel like you need to push yourself this hard. 

His phone vibrates in his pocket; annoyance courses through his body until he sees his brother's name across the pristine screen of his newest iPhone Max. 

“Ya?” He says harshly. 

“Everything ok with the alarm?” 

Joel’s mind goes blank, “What?” 

Tommy is silent for a second before he responds slowly, “The alarm? You left in the middle of a meeting because of an alarm.” 

Joel shakes his head. Right, the alarm. The bullshit excuse he made up so he could leave to see you. “Ya, right. Ya, it’s fine. Got it all, umm, all fixed up. Should be back soon.”

“You ok, brother?” Tommy asks suspiciously. “You seemed, I dunno, distracted today.” 

“I’m fine,” Joel snaps. 

“Alright. Well, come back soon, pretty big night here and we need ya.” 

Joel hangs up without saying goodbye. He’s the owner, he knows it’s a big night, but he’s sort of busy having an existential crisis over possibly being in love with his house cleaner. Whoa, in love? Pump the fucking brakes. Joel’s heart stops beating for a second at the thought of it. He can’t possibly be in love; he doesn’t fall in love. No, he decides, it’s just because she’s new, and exactly my type, and it’s been a long time since I found someone that’s my type.

Just as he stands from his desk, he hears the hose outside turn on. You must be at the pool furniture part of your list. He takes this moment to sneak out of his own house, because he’s a weak man when it comes to you, apparently. He slips into the Italian leather front seat and lets the new car smell waft over him; he loves the smells of a new sports car and has never owned one long enough for it to stop smelling that way. It’s a matter of status to him. He takes a good hard look at himself in the rear view mirror. That’s enough now. For both of your sakes. Leave her alone. 

You 

After spraying down the pool furniture you rush inside to warm up. Seriously, who needs their pool stuff cleaned in the fucking winter? As you jog up the stairs to grab Joel’s freshly laundered sheets, you blow into your cupped palms. The warmth spreads from your frozen fingertips to your palms. Joel’s office is empty; he must have left while you were outside. Your brain swirls with unanswered questions as you pull the fitted sheet back onto his king size bed. Why would he come home? First of all, he knows you’re here this time and second of all, he knows he’s not supposed to be here. So why? And then there’s his calculating stare, always watching and usually with a flash of pride in his features. Did he come back here just to talk to you? Maybe even to get to know you? 

It’s safe to say that you’re more confused than ever, and you make a mental schedule of studying and reading to keep you busy later tonight so you won’t spend hours trying to google him again.

It takes way too much effort, and a silent promise to yourself to get back to the gym, but you manage to wrestle the oversized duvet back into its cover just as three o’clock rolls around. You jog down the wide, open staircase and your phone bings in your back pocket. Jamie’s name is splayed across your cracked screen, the sunset from your last trip to California shining back at you. 

What are you doing tonight? Want to make a bunch of money serving drinks topless?

You laugh to yourself. Truthfully, nothing Jamie asks you seems to surprise you, and some sort of odd job where you’re topless or in a sexy outfit is practically a guarantee as a condition of your friendship. As you reach for the black envelope on the kitchen island you text back. 

What?

You barely have the thick parchment of the envelope open when she responds, like she already had the text locked and loaded and was just waiting for you to try to fight her on it.  

Remember Laren? My cousin? She has a topless catering company and needs help tonight. It’s at some exclusive VIP poker game downtown. 4 hours, $300 + tips.

You respond as a thousand dollars falls out of the tip envelope. 

I’m in.

Jamie picks you up a few hours later and parks her blacked out Range Rover in the alleyway behind a shiny black building in the heart of downtown. You’re once again surrounded by wealth and success thanks to Jamie. The dress code tonight is a black pencil skirt, black heels, your tits, and a bow tie that Laren will give you. Speaking of whom, Laren is holding open a staff door for you and Jamie with her hip, waving the two of you into the warmth of the building. She pulls you both into a big hug, “Thank fuck! You two saved my ass tonight. Gotta love having friends and family with great tits!”

“You’re so weird,” Jamie says, brushing past her and into the building. You follow her in before Laren ushers you towards a service elevator. 

“They’ve already started, you’re part of the second shift. I think the first set of girls made about four hundred each in tips, helps if you serve the guys that are winning though. The first round of games is almost over, winners move on soon.”

“How were their tits though? As great as ours?” You joke. Underneath the calm and collected mask you’re wearing you are definitely nervous. All these strange men are going to see you half naked, you know nothing about poker or serving drinks. Your two friends laugh as the elevator opens to a small changing room. Girls from the first shift are putting their tops back on, handing the bow ties back to Laren who gives them to you and Jamie. 

She cocks her head towards a swinging door, “Just through there when you’re done. Go to the bartender for a tray and table assignment. Two girls per table and only six seats so it should be pretty easy. Make sure you smile!”

“Yes, ma’am,” you and Jamie say teasingly as you strip off your tops and bras. She flips you the middle finger as she heads back out to the poker game to supervise. The cool air of the room stiffens your nipples, nerves fluttering behind your navel as you put the bow tie on.

You overhear the girls that are leaving talking about the men, “Did you see the one with the curly hair at the table by the bar?”, one says. 

The other responds, “He was so fucking hot. Total daddy, I think he owns this place.” 

A third pipes up with, “Fuck, I should have flirted more. I could use a sugar daddy.” 

As they walk towards the elevator the first girl says, “Did you know that this is a sex club? Too bad we can’t go explore the rest.” They giggle as they leave and you take a steadying breath. You’re going to be topless, in a sex club. 

“Ready?” Jamie asks, adjusting her bowtie around her slender neck. 

“Did you know this is a sex club?”

She laughs, “Ya, it’s like an exclusive kink club apparently. Laren said it’s owned by two brothers who are insanely hot. Maybe I should see if they need a maid.” She winks at you as you both walk towards the swinging door. 

You step into the dimly lit room and find the bar directly across from you. After rolling your shoulders back and down, you cross the dark hardwood floor to the bar. Everything in the room is black or deep forest green. Black paint covers the walls, your heels click against the sturdy black wooden floors, even the poker tables and chairs are black. A pop of deep green velvet only along the seats and table tops. It looks soft, like one of those fuzzy blankets you have on your couch and you fight the urge to run your hand across one of the empty tables as you pass. 

The bartender hands Jamie a tray first and then quietly tells her to go to the table in the far right corner. She sways her hips like the sultry goddess she is as she walks to the table. Relief floods through you when you notice that none of the men have raised their eyes, they’re focused intently on the card game. This isn’t some sleazy club like you initially thought when you heard ‘sex club’ leave the lips of the other servers. You relax a little at being able to just be yourself tonight, maybe a bit more naked than you’d usually be but yourself nonetheless. 

You take the black marble serving tray as the bartender points to the table closest to the bar. The curly hair man that the women were talking about in the change room faces away from you. Your heart leaps in your chest. Joel. As you approach the other server standing behind the table, he starts to turn his head. Time stops, your heart speeds up, and it starts to feel simultaneously too hot and too cold in the room all at the same time. It’s almost as if he’s turning his head in slow motion. As you catch his side profile he has the same hooked nose, in the dim light of the room you can’t see any greys along his temples and he doesn’t appear to have a beard. After what feels like an hour, his eyes finally meet yours and you let out a breath, although you aren’t sure if it’s disappointment or relief leaving your lungs. It’s not Joel Miller.

“Mind bringin’ me another Macallan neat, sweetheart?” His eyes stay locked on yours as he smiles at you sweetly. He holds the crystal glass out for you and you take it with a soft ‘yes, sir.’

Something about those eyes, and the way they flash darkly at being called sir, feels all too familiar. In the time it takes for you to take the six or seven steps to the bar you convince yourself that it’s just your brain seeing him everywhere. You tell yourself that when you bring this drink back he’ll look nothing like the man you caught knuckles deep in a woman as she cried out, nothing like the man who was so gentle and sweet, yet slightly bossy and commanding with you this afternoon. 

That’s definitely it, you say to yourself with finality. You’re just cock drunk over a cock you’ll never have. 

The bartender pops the whiskey open and the hair on the back of your neck stands up, you can feel someone looking at you. Almost feel their stare heating the right side of your body. It feels as if all of your exposed skin is being covered by the gaze of whomever is looking at you, shielding you protectively from the view of the other men. The bartender's eyes flick to the corner of the room and then back to you while he hands you the drink. The shift of his gaze confirms that you weren’t imagining it, there is someone looking at you. You place the whiskey on your tray and spin cautiously to the right, stopping dead in your tracks when you lock eyes with Joel Miller. He looks dangerous, sitting at a low table along the wall, his face just barely illuminated by a single candle on the dark wooden table top. His fingers are laced together, forearms of his black dress shirt resting on the knees of his black dress pants. His lips are pressed in a thin, disapproving line. 

He stalks over to you and you wish your tray was empty so you could shield your tits from him. The way he moves is almost menacing, like a jaguar stalking his prey, his eyes are almost black in the low light of the room. Your nipples stiffen under his intense gaze, your mouth fills with saliva and you gulp loudly. You stand frozen, the whiskey for that man you had convinced yourself isn’t related to Joel forgotten about on your tray. He plucks the drink off the marble slab, the glass looking like one of those disposable paper cups you have in your bathroom in his hand. He takes two long strides and drops the glass beside the man. 

“Thanks,” he starts to coo, a ten dollar bill clasped between two fingers. After realizing it’s not you, he adds a confused, “Brother?” 

He tries to pull the money back, but Joel is quicker. Snatching it from his brother's grasp and tucking it into the breast pocket of his dress shirt. Joel turns back to you and steps in closely, your lower back hitting the cold marble bartop and you gasp, arching your back and naked breasts towards Joel. His jaw flexes as he fights to keep his eyes level with yours. 

“What are you doin’ here?” he says in a harsh whisper. 

“I’m working,” it comes out a lot more bratty and defiant than you intend it to. 

“Not here you ain’t.”

You take a small step forward, your hard nipples lightly grazing the soft fabric of his black dress shirt. “I’m not leaving.” 

His hand circles your bicep and you twist out of his grasp. “You’re makin’ a scene, darlin’.” 

“You are, Joel. I’m just trying to make money.” He grabs you more firmly this time, not tight enough to hurt you but enough for you to know he means business. 

What’s his problem anyway? He doesn’t own you. What you do outside his home is none of his business. He can boss you around via an app every other week, but that’s it. That’s where it ends. You glance desperately over at Jamie to find her back to you as she speaks softly with a man who’s waiting for the next round of poker. Her hand grazes his bicep flirtatiously, she makes it look too easy to get what she wants from men. Joel guides you towards the staff changing room, keeping your body in the dark edges of the room. He’s breathing heavily through his nose, like an angry dragon and you’re honestly surprised smoke isn’t billowing out of his nostrils. 

In the bright lights of the changing room you feel more exposed than ever. You want to lift your tray, but in order to prove to him that you don’t care what he or anyone thinks you don’t. In fact, you stand up taller, holding your head high and pushing your chest out. It’s infinitesimal but he looks down just for a nano second. You smirk when his eyes come back to you. 

“Put a shirt on.” 

“If none of the other girls have to put a shirt on then neither do I.” You pop your hip out and pull your arm free from his large calloused hand and rest it on your hip. 

“Don’t fight me on this.” 

“I’m not fighting. You are. So all those other girls are fine, but I’m not? Why? My tits aren’t big enough for you?” 

“That’s not,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a breath with his eyes closed. When he reopens them his eyes land softly on yours. “I just need you not to be here. Please.” 

Bright red anger sparks along the sides of your eyes. Seriously, who does he think he is? “You aren’t the boss here, Mister Miller.” 

“Do NOT call me that.” His neck flushes the same colour as your vision. You stand your ground, eyes narrowing into glaring slits. What is his aversion to being called Mister Miller, and why does it turn you on a little bit to rile him up when you use it?

“You aren’t my boss or my dad, Joel. You can’t make me leave or tell me what jobs I can or can’t take.” You’ve figuratively dug your heels in, you aren’t leaving. He can’t make you. Only Laren or whoever owns this sex club can ask that of you. “You can’t kick me out like you own the place.” 

“Actually,” he says darkly, “I can.” 

“What?” You say through a nervous breath, eyes widening. 

“I own the place. So I can kick you out, and I am kicking you out. Get your shirt.” 

Your shoulders fall slightly. You feel about two feet tall with the realization that he doesn’t want you here. This afternoon you thought that maybe he cared, he seemed like he cared, and now you’re half naked and he wants you to leave. He watches as you unclasp your bow tie and slide on your bra and shirt. 

You look over at Jamie’s clothes and it dawns on you that you didn’t drive here. Your face falls as you blink around the room and then towards Joel. 

“What’s wrong?” he says through thick concern.

“Nothing. I just…” 

He steps towards you, he’s so broad, his presence so large that you start to feel almost claustrophobic when he’s this close, but you never want him to step away. You’d happily let him smother you with his innate Joel-ness. “You just what?”

“I didn’t drive here,” you say quietly, looking down at your hands. Your left thumb nail immediately finds purchase along the cuticle of your right thumb. 

His strong palm cups your chin, lifting until he’s looking at you again. You’re becoming more and more used to the amount of eye contact Joel seems to make. He seems constantly dialed in on you when you’re in the same room.

Yes, I would be very happy to let him smother me. 

The harsh lines of his face soften, “I can get you a car. They’ll meet you at the staff door.” 

You nod into his hand and find it exceedingly hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you that way. He drops your chin and turns his large, broad body back towards the swinging door. He looks over his shoulder and says, “I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me.” His voice is soft and sad, almost as if he’s full of remorse and just hoping you won’t hate him before heading back into the poker game. Any bit of anger is flushed from your system, replaced with the disappointment of having to leave wherever Joel is.  

You drag your feet to the elevator and then towards the staff exit. You let the heavy door close behind you with a loud bang as a blacked out SUV pulls up. The driver says your first and last name as he opens the back door for you. You look towards the black building one last time. 

“I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me.” 

JMKink is written in shiny metallic black on the door and all the information of the evening hits you at once. JMK. Joel Miller Kink. Joel Miller, insanely handsome millionaire, owns a sex club.

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[pedge-page]

Safe

Sub/Himbo!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: .... I have no notes. This is. Yeah.

Warnings: himbo !Joel, sub!Joel, mommy kink on steroids, breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, mentions of breastfeeding, nipple sucking, missionary, slight undertones of coercion or manipulation from reader

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel's breathless grunts make you clench around him even tighter. He's hunched over you, with your legs spread lazily as he thrusts frantically inside your squelching cunt, face pressed against your neck with his eyes squeezed shut. You sooth over his back with a calming hand. He's sweating, pent up and desperate, but you can feel the pathetic ruts of his hips and the desperate whines escaping his lips telling you he's close.

"How's your bare cock feel inside? Feel good baby? Yeah I bet it does. Bet you were dying to put your naked cock in my cunt," you coo.

"I love—I love mommy's pussy," he rasps. "Love fucking you raw."

"Mommy loves it too." You hum, rubbing your fingers through his sweaty hair. He needed this so badly tonight. A tough day being such a strong, capable, even intimidating man. Cold protector. But you knew all Joel needs sometimes is to let go of that demeanor and be taken care of.

"Now all you have to do is cum. Put you sticky seed inside my warm wet pussy."

He lets out a high pitched whimper from his throat, his cock throbbing and pushing even faster into you.

"Isn't it so nice?" You ask. Your legs slowly wrap around his waist, leg locking him while he gets lost in your heat.

"Mhm-nmmm. I'm...I'm gonna cum. Gnna cum inside Mommy's warm pussy." His pace lacked rhythm to begin with, but now he's jackhammering like a horny bunny with no regard.

"That's it baby, just breed me like a good boy. I'll make you a daddy, you just gotta breed me. Put you warm baby batter in me."

"Oh fuck yeah, I'm cumming! Im cumming in Mommys pussy raw, fuck—fuckyeahsowarmoh fuck! we're breeding!"

His entire body stiffens as he erupts, holding you as close as possible with painful breaths. You feel his cock twitch with each ribbon of his spent filling you up until its dribbling out.

"Goodboy, you did so good! Can feel you filling me up. Oooo baby, that feels amazing. You had so much didn't you?"

He pants hot air against your soft skin, body collapsing on top of you as he catches his breath. "So much. Fuck —it feels good cumming inside raw. Thank you mommy. It felt really good."

He smiles and kisses your cheek. Then down your neck with little sighs, the scruff of his peppered beard scraping lightly along your skin until he gets to your tits.

He starts sucking your nipples out of comfort, slow and sensual as if lulling to sleep.

"If you keep putting your cum in me, soon these will start giving you milk."

He perks up. "Wait, really. Can we...?"

"Yes baby, but only if you give mommy your cum. All of it every time. Buried in my pussy."

His face goes red. "I liked cumming inside Mommy's pussy. I want to keep doing it."

"Good.  It's okay, Mommy's gonna keep it all safe. Ang time you need to cum, you come straight to Mommy okay? You always put your cum inside me and I'll keep it warm and safe for you."

He babbles against your breast, his mouth enclosing around your nipple for comform with little rocks of his hips still pushing his seed into your sloppy slit. "Mommy's...safe"

"That's right. Mommy is safe."

- - - -

More: Closer

Notes: I *may* have a PK variation of this...

Permanent Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Shirt On.

Pairing/Au: Sub!Joel X soft dom f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 4645

Rating: + 18, MDNI, NSFW. I’m not joking with this one, if you’re a minor please stay away from it.

Summary: Joel getting pegged by you while you wear his flannel shirt. That’s it, that’s the fic. LOL

I know it's not everyone's cup of tea but if you decided to stay, the rest is under the cut.

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, smut with feelings, established relationship, established dom/sub dynamic, sub!Joel, soft dom f!reader, reader wears jeans and a top (and of course Joel’s flannel), has breasts and vagina but apart from that no other specific description of her is given, pegging, use of a double strap-on, mention of plugs, lube, edging (m receiving) , orgasm control, oral (f receiving with the strap-on), mention of anal play, squirting, a little bit of nipples play (m receiving), ass slapping, swearing, dirty language, mention of threesome, mention of nipple clamps, mention of Joel conservative environment as a child (? I don’t know, i imagined that), a whole lot of fantasies made explicit, pet names (mostly good boy, honey, baby), use of “mommy” once, Joel is so soft and needy in this one, reader is cheeky, brief Tommy appearance, mention of alcohol consumption, I think that’s all but if I realize I forgot something I'll add it right away.

I love sub!Joel so much and and I've been thinking about writing it for a long time so here we go!

It’s my first sub!Joel fic and pegging fic, I’m so nervous about it, I really hope it’s good and you will enjoy it.

One inspiration for this fic was this work by @milla-frenchy : Her, if you haven't read it yet and you love sub!Joel RUN to do it because it's amazing and she’s so talented.

The other one was the sex toy described lol

As usual, English is not my first language, no beta and no proofreading so it’s all my fault, I apologize for any mistake.

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated, I would love to have some feedback on this (please, be kind) !

Thank you so much for reading❤️

Joel is unloading materials at a construction site when he feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket.

He puts the brick pack down and rubs his hands on his jeans, takes out his phone and unlocks it. There is an unread message from you. 

“Baby, I’ll wait for you at home at 6. Don’t be late” 

He quickly types a reply and sends it to you. “Yes, ma’am.” 

He smiles. 

He had never done anything like this before, but with you everything was different right away. 

——————-

When he first met you, at Tommy’s birthday party, he thought you were a wonderful creature. 

You were talking to someone he doesn’t even remember unlike your bright smile, your contagious laugh, your breathtaking body and your impossible-to-miss charm. 

The pair of jeans you were wearing hugged your hips and waist perfectly and your tight top highlighted the curve of your tits so deliciously that his mouth started watering instantly at the sight. 

You turned to him probably sensing his eyes on you and your eyes weren’t even close to be intimidated or embarrassed. 

You held his gaze fiercely and he knew in that moment that you were going to be troubles in the best possible way. 

He had always been quite successful with women but he suddenly felt like someone destined to remain on the bench who has to compete with the team's star player.

The challenge excited him anyway, he decided he had to find out something about you.

He entered the house and found Tommy busy opening a bottle of wine. He asked him who you were and he replied with a smirk, "Maria's coworker. Why do you ask? Do you fancy her?” 

“I don’t even know her!” he retorted. 

“Yeah but you think she's hot” he stated raising one of his thick eyebrows and looking at him with a sardonic grin.

Joel snorted “I knew I shouldn't have told you anything”

Tommy bursted into laughter and said nothing else.

And he didn't do anything, there was no need. 

Joel couldn't imagine it but you know exactly what you want and you know how to take it.

He was at the buffet table taking a beer when you approached tantalizing him “You think you’re going to ask me for my phone number or not?” 

“Why?” He tried to play it cool and nonchalantly.

“Well you've been staring at my ass all night, so… either you want to know where I bought these jeans or you like my ass, cowboy, what do you say?” you waited, delighted by the state of confusion you had caused in him.

He hadn’t expected it in the slightest, no one had ever been so cheeky with him.

And then you added “The thing is… I like yours too, so we could do something about it”.

Of course you sneaked off the party and you immediately jumped at each other in Joel’s truck after finding a fairly isolated spot along the road, sloppy kissing and hands everywhere like you were both starving. You haven't even made it to his house.

Of course you ended up sharing contacts because you just had had the most incredible sex and wanted more. 

Many dates and many months later you moved in together.

The harmony between you two was strong from day one and never changed.

You know how much he needs to have his coffee in the morning, he knows how you love your eggs, you know he always fail to put his dirty laundry into the basket in the laundry room, he knows he’s the one that has to take care of the garden because you have absolutely zero skills and you kill the cacti too. 

The domesticity between the two of you always feels like the most precious gift.

You talked many times about what you like in bed and you have confessed to Joel that you love to be the dominant part in the relationship. 

Joel had no difficulty accepting and embracing it, he is happy that you are the one taking the reins. 

He is always in charge at work, his construction company is doing really good and has several employees, he is used to being the boss and making decisions all day long. His mind is sometimes so tired of that that coming home to you and let you decide for him allows him to shake off all the stress that is weighing him down.

“This is actually good for my own peace of mind” he told you “I feel free” 

You have set rules and boundaries and you talked throughly about what you want and don’t want from this dynamic. 

You both respect and understand each other. You love each other like there’s no tomorrow, Joel told you he has never been this happy before.

And experimenting with him is the most exciting things in the world. He’s prone to it, even more than you thought at the beginning. 

So when you brought up to him that you would love to try some anal play he accepted straight away. 

He told you that he had done it before, he had never been on the receiving end but he was more than happy to do it with you.

You’ve proceeded by step, experimenting with your fingers, while he fucked you senselessly like you wanted to, then it was Joel himself who suggested trying a plug. 

“You sure about that, babe?” you asked “I'm happy that you want to indulge with me in this but I wouldn't want you to do it just for me”

“No,” he assured you, with the sweetest smile “I’m not doing this just for you, even though you know how much I like it when you’re satisfied. I love what you do to me with your fingers and I think I’d like to… um… try something more.”

“okay then, let’s dig into it” you replied with a little smirk. 

He grabbed your laptop and you searched online together, sitting on your couch with your head resting on his shoulder as you explored site after site giggling together in total complicity.

You can’t forget the thrilled look on his face as you decided to order a trio of plugs in different sizes.

And you can’t forget the moans he made the first time you tried it. 

The trust you’ve built has made it truly special. Joel knows he can abandon himself to you, you’ll never do anything he doesn’t want and you’ll always take care of him as much as he does with you.

Joel’s protective side makes him sensitive and attentive to your needs. For everyone else he’s just a somewhat grumpy, reserved man and a tireless worker, but for you Joel is the most thoughtful man you’ve ever known.

He is amazed by the patience and delicacy you put into getting him where you want him to be, and you’re completely fulfilled by how much of a good sub he can be. 

Sometimes he gets denied for days and it’s all about you coming repeatedly on his tongue or he’s only allowed to watch as you masturbate, other times you ask to be fucked several times a day or you demand to see your tall, broad, strong and gorgeous man bent over on your bed while you play with his ass.

Every session was pure bliss, he was a little bit flustered to try the biggest plug but he ended up getting an orgasm that was out of this world. 

And now he's ready to try the strap on, which makes you incredibly wet just thinking about it.

As with the plugs, you chose together which one to buy and once you decided you were both so excited that you allowed him to fuck you and come inside you after a whole week of chastity, edging and ruined orgasms.

___________

Joel leaves work at 5:30, gets in his car and curses all the way home against the traffic that threatens to make him late. 

He parks in the driveway and opens the door “I’m here, my love” he quickly says as he puts his keys on the cabinet in the hall. 

“I'm in the kitchen, babe, come here”

Joel rushes to your command and the sight of you leaves him speechless. 

You're standing in the middle of the kitchen wearing only his flannel shirt left open and the strap-on you both chose. The leather straps wrap around your hips and a large dildo stands out between your legs.

“It came in the mail today,” you smile at him, extremely pleased by the rapt expression painted all over his face.

“Oh fuck, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen” he breathe, his eyes feasting on your body. 

He loves it when you wear his clothes, he loves seeing you walk around the house in his shirts and wearing his boxers and he loves it even more when you let him watch you masturbate in just those.

He tries to get closer to you and you raise one of your arm stopping him “no, wait, not yet. Look at me a little longer” and saying that you take the big cock in your hand and begin to stroke it slowly “talk to me darling, tell me more about how it seems to you”

“It's big,” he gulps “and it looks great on you.”

You have chosen a type that stimulates both of you, so you have a dildo inside you. With each stroke you feel it penetrate a little deeper, widening your walls.

“What else?” you coo “What would you like to do now? Would you like to suck it?”

“Yes, my love, I would like that, please.” 

He’s fixed on your hand moving on the fake cock. 

“Eyes on me, baby, what else?” you gently scold him

His look shifts immediately on yours as he answers you huskily “I wish you would fuck me with that. Please”

You move closer to him, without stopping touching the dildo, you raise your hand to gently stroke his raven curls lightly streaked with silver “Oh, I’m going to fuck you so hard, baby, I’m going to split you open and you’re going to be the best boy, right?” 

He closes his eyes, abandoning himself to your caresses and he whispers “yes” 

You tug his hair “louder, babe” 

“Yes, my love” 

“Perfect. Kneel down for me, now” 

He immediately goes down, in front of you, on the kitchen floor.

“Take this cock, babe, make it all nice and wet” you purr

You put your hand back in his hair and bring him closer to it.

You can see a sparkle in his gaze as he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue to lick the tip.

You feel a shiver of pleasure run through your body seeing him like this, malleable like clay in your hands, on his knees, hungry, totally involved in what you were doing, so endearing and beautiful. 

“More, baby, show me how good you are” 

He opens his mouth wide and bends over the cock starting to make it disappear into his mouth, his lower lip trembling slightly. 

He raise a hand to grip the base but you slap it and say firmly “take it fully in your mouth first” 

He frowns and he gag a little when the tip bumps on the back of his throat but immediately gather his control back. 

“good boy, now suck. You can use your hand on mommy’s cock” 

He looks up at you in gratitude as he circles the base with his fingers and begins to suck greedily.

The entire length is now coated in his saliva as he moves up and down on it continuing to suck and every time he goes down, the dildo inside you hits a deeper spot making you moan just as much as he does. His big hand is all wrapped around the silicone cock, the other sunk into your hip above the leather straps and his grunts are like the cherry on top. 

You continue to praise him and he’s enraptured by your gaze and you can clearly spot his cock hardening in his pants, it strains against the hem of his work jeans. 

“You like that huh? So good for me” 

He swirls his tongue around the tip and goes down flat on the underline and swirls around again taking the mushroom between his luscious lips and sucking on it.

He’s still fully dressed and yet you could swear you could come just by seeing him all engrossed in sucking your big fat dildo.

His nose hits the end of the cock bumping into your clit as he tries to put it all back in his mouth, gagging around it, trails of saliva slide down his chin, your thumb smear it all over his jawline “Just like that, baby, keep going for me”

Your fingers are tangle in his curls and you push him down the length arching your back, making him gasp for hair, his eyes start watering a little but he keeps sucking. Pressure is building on your clit at every brush of the base on it and the other end sink deep into you all slick and soaking wet with your juices. He’s basically masturbating you sucking the dildo.

You’re about to give in and you convulsively yelp “don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, Joel”

He sucks at an even faster pace, stroking the base and lingering on the tip every time he comes up.

You toss your back and shut your eyes closed, overwhelmed by your first orgasm washing over you, panting hard and feeling you knees buckle.

Joel continue to suck quietly until you regain the ability to speak.

“You’ve been very good, darling” you coo “get up for me now”

He let the dildo slide out of his mouth with a lewd pop and stands up and you order: “turn your back and put your hands on the table for me.” 

He does so and you lean back and wrap your arms around his waist. You close your eyes and enjoy his warmth as you try to calm down.

“Well, we have discovered a new talent in you” 

“I- yes” he mutters

“Don’t be shy baby, there’s nothing wrong with sucking a dick” and you leave a trail of kisses on his back 

“You’re right” His voice is uncertain, as if he had just realized how much he liked it.

You move to look him in the eyes “it’s all good, honey? do you want us to stop here?”

He shakes his head.

“Words, baby”

“No. No, my love” 

“Good. You know you can always use the safe word, right?”

“Yes. Yes, I know… I was just thinking…” 

“What, honey? Talk to me” you stroke his arm trying to reassure him, peering into his big brown puppy eyes.

Joel grew up in a conservative environment and you know that he distanced himself from it as soon as he could and he is certainly sure he can tell you what he would like, you decide but you always allow him to express himself. 

Every now and then a kind of reticence resurfaces in him, and it melts your heart the way he tries to fight against the beliefs that were put in his head as a child.

“Do you think we could try a threesome sometime?” 

You giggle lightly caressing his cheek “Sure, we could do that. Why were you so afraid to ask me?” 

“I didn't want you to think that you're not longer enough for me. I mean you’re perfect, absolutely perfect and I love you and-” 

“Babe” you interrupt him “it’s okay. It’s your fantasy and I find it hot too. Would you like to do it with another guy?” 

“Yes…uhm..I would”

“Mmmm God, that would be so hot, you trying a big meaty cock…deep in your throat”

He blushes instantly at your words and the corners of his mouth curl into a smile “I- yeah, I think I would love to try”

“I would masturbate while you do it and then I would let you fuck my cunt while the other guy’s cock would go deep in my mouth. How does it sounds?” You lewdly whisper to him.

“Oh fuck- yes” he reply, eyes wide and pupils dilated.

“You’re such a dirty boy, I love that. How do you get so good at sucking anyway?” you ask him mischievously

“Well, I learned something by watching you, you’re the best at it.” he states with a proud tone. 

“Mmm you’re such a flatterer. Now shut up and let me play” you tenderly scold him kissing his lips “unbutton your pants” 

His hands fiddle with the button and the zipper and as soon as he’s done you order “put your hands back on the table”

You leisurely slide one hand into his pants and make room in his boxer to reach his already hard cock.

You flick the tip with your fingertips gathering his precum and you slide over his length wetting it, you can feel his breathing thickening and a sigh of relief leaves his mouth.

You pump him until he reach the edge, throbbing in your fingers, then you stop, a muffled sound of impatience run through his lips. 

You smile, your gaze chained to his “keep calm, love”

You take a small remote control out of the flannel shirt pocket and show it to him. “Look what I have”

He mumble “oh my fucking God”, his voice cracks a little and your lips curl, even more pleased “I forgot about it” he admits. 

“Yeah, it’s going to be fun” you giggle “let’s go to our bedroom now”

He immediately follows you and once in the room you lean on the piece of furniture in front of the bed and you demand “take off your clothes” 

He does it slowly as he knows you like it, first boots and socks that he throws in a corner, then his jeans that he leaves lying on the floor and finally the shirt, that also ends up on the floor at the foot of the bed. With every part of his body revealed to your eyes you lick your lips thinking that you will never get used to seeing such beauty. His broad shoulders, his wide chest, tiny freckles scattered on his skin, his narrow waist, his slightly soft tummy, the thin line of hair that ends up hidden by his boxers, his meaty thighs… you can never get enough of him.

He remains in a pair of boxers, standing in front of you. “Good boy, take them off and lie down on the bed,”

There is sweetness in his gaze, trust and a desire to abandon himself, at this point you can read him like an open book.

You're taking off the flannel you’re wearing when he looks at you pleadingly “Can you please keep it on, honey?”

“You like seeing me like that?” You smirk

“I do. You’re so damn sexy” 

“Okay, baby, I can do that” you grant and he smiles gratefully.

Once he's lying down you take the lube from the nightstand and then you climb on the bed right next to him, your fake cock still shiny with his saliva.

His naked body is still and waiting for you, and you take his cock back in your hand “you did so well for me” 

“I’m glad, my love, thank you” he whispers

You pinch his nipples with your other hand, pulling and twisting them between your fingertip, teasing them while you keep stroking his lenght slowly. 

“God, I love your nipples, baby, they drive me wild, so pink and turgid and delicious.” 

 You run your tongue over his chest sucking them into your mouth. 

“I think we should try nipple clamps sometime, would you like that?” you say before taking back one of his buds between your lips. 

“Oh - God, yes. Yes, please, my love” 

His moans go straight to your cock-covered clit, you feel it hardening against the soft and smooth silicone.

You know perfectly well that he is much stronger than you and could easily tip you over onto the bed and trap you with his weight, but he won't.

This awareness makes you feel powerful and the mere thought of how far you can go with him and still be safe makes you dripping wet.

You take him back to the edge again and then you stop, his cock is throbbing and the tip is angry red and leaking profusely. 

His hips slightly twitch a couple of times and you can tell how desperate he is for a release but he knows that he can’t come until you say so. 

You start pumping him again after a couple of minutes and you can hear the stifled moans crowded in his throat as you take him on the edge again. 

He’s such a mess of sweat and cries and glassy eyes but he’s managing to remain still like you ordered to.

“I can’t believe I have such a good boy all for me” you purr “You want my big cock in you? You want that?” 

“Yes, please, my love. Please” he whines. 

“Turn around for me like the good boy you are” 

He turns around and you take the lube squeezing a good amount into your hand, spreading it all over his hole, caressing it gently and penetrating it with two of your fingers.

He cries “please” 

“Don't be impatient” you say firmly slapping his ass cheek, leaving a red mark. 

“I’m sorry” his voice is hoarse and deep and you can hear his struggle in every single word which is such a turn on, he wants you so bad. 

He’s so excited and needy that he basically cries and the sound of his voice reverberate into your ears like a music.

“So sweet, my big boy crying for cock” 

“I want- please. I want it so much, pl- please” he’s bucking his hips against the duvet and you slap his ass again.

“Behave, baby” you order “stay still for me” 

You linger a little longer in his hole, moving your fingers slowly. 

“You have the sexiest ass I’ve ever seen, you know that? Is it ready for me?”

“Yes. It’s all yours, love, please take it” he begs. 

When you finally place your body behind him spreading his ass cheeks with your hands and poking at his entrance with the tip, he leaves out the loudest groan you’ve ever heard from him. 

The inside dildo is still hitting you the right way and in this position you can feel it even deeper than before. 

“You okay?” 

“Yes - oh - yes, love it”

“Good” you whisper caressing his hips “we’re almost there, baby. You look so gorgeous like that, Joel. So fucking gorgeous”

You keep pushing the cock inside him, until you’re balls deep inside and you start moving, thrusting into him while the other end thrust into you.

“You’re doing so good, Joel, so good for me”

He whimpers while you brush against his prostate, lifting his butt to feel you even more, you could swear you’ve never seen anything more intoxicating.

You take the small remote that you placed on the bed and turn on the vibration at the lower setting, just enough to add that little buzz into the already overwhelming sensations you’re both experimenting.

Joel lets out a “fuck” so deep and hoarse, you feel him clenching around the cock and the vibration hits your clit and your inside too and you almost lose it.

You take a deep breath and focus on him.

“Just like that, you love taking this cock, don’t you?” 

“Yes OH GOD YES - I think - I think I’m almost c-” 

“Sssh not yet, baby, don’t be to greedy, hold it until I say it” 

You pump harder and his body tenses, you can see every muscle in his back flex while he tightens his hands on the sheets underneath trying with all his might to hold back, his face leaning in profile sinking into the mattress, little drops of sweat beading on his skin, his plumped lips open in search of air letting out moan after moan.

He’s almost incoherent by now, just babbling please and fuck and begging you to let him come and you can feel yourself getting right on the edge.

You get out of him to change positions as you fear of losing control because of the vibrating dildo inside you slapping at your walls “Turn over on your back for me,” 

He turns around immediately, you make him lift his legs and rest them on your shoulders and then you go back inside him with a single thrust “OH FUCK” he wails “fuckfuckfuck” 

“Yeah, baby, do you like watching me fuck you with your shirt on? You like that, huh?” his look is ecstatic as he reply “Yes - GOD- fuck - you’re so beautiful” 

You start to pound again against his prostate, deeper into him with each movement, your tits bouncing and obscene slapping filling the air mixed with the buzzing of the dildo, until you can’t fight your orgasm anymore.

It’s too much, all too much, the vibrations, the dildo crushing on your cervix, and the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen all worked up and sweaty between your legs, just losing his mind for you.

“Come baby” you order in a breath “come for me” and he throw his head back on the mattress rolling his eyes and lets himself be invaded by a devastating orgasm right after your command, long spurts of his cum painted all over your tummy and his shirt.

You can feel his whole body shaking and you hold on to his ankle as you hastily pull out with the other one and squirt all over the dildo, drenching the duvet underneath you.

You’re completely shattered and exhausted but totally appeased, no thought left in your brain but a complete state of serenity that mostly comes from the fact that you can be completely you with Joel, no disguise, no mask, no filter is needed when it comes to him.

You turn off the the dildo and let it out him, you throw it on the empty side of the bed and lie down in his arms, it’s all you want and it’s all you need now.

He welcomes you and holds you tightly as you both try to get your breathing back to normal, you abandon your head on his chest and you feel his heart beating fast behind his ribcage. 

After a few minutes of silence he is the first to speak “that was…fuck…I don’t have words. Thank you, love”

You tilt your head to look at him and he’s smiling with his entire face, his eyes sparkling and his cheek flushed and his adorable dimple showing off. 

“I love you, Joel” you murmur and your mouth reach the bald patch in his beard to place a kiss there. 

“I love you too, honey, so much you have no idea” and he gently takes your lips. 

“I’m sorry, your shirt got wet” the final part is practically stuck to your skin, soaked in sweat, cum and squirt.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind at all. We’re both sticky and sweaty but we can think about that later”

You laugh and kiss him again, nibbling on his lower lip.

When you break the kiss there is a question you feel curious to ask him “Joel?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“I have a question” 

“Shoot”

“Why do you like it so much when I wear your clothes?”

He gives you a sweet and slightly shy look as he replies “For starters, they look sexier on you and then…it makes me feel like you’re mine in some sort of primal sense, you smell like me and I love that you have something of me on you”

You giggle.

“Did I explain myself?”

“Yes, yes you perfectly did, honey” you reply hiding your head in the crook of his neck and inhaling his woody citrusy scent. 

He smells like home, the only one you truly feels to belong to.

[guiltyasdave]

1500 kisses challenge: masterlist

thank you to everyone who has participated in my 1500 kisses challenge and posted their works, and i’m so excited about all the works that are still to come!

please don’t feel pressured to finish yours quicker, i just wanted to start putting this together :) you can also still very much sign up to participate!

dave york

blown away by @joelalorian

goodnight kiss by @clawdee

kiss the bride by @sizzlingcloudmentality

dieter bravo

say hello, wave goodbye by @schnarfer

din djarin

just a scratch by @the-mandawhor1an

remember this by @burntheedges

in tongues by @beskarandblasters

forehead kisses by @starlight-starwrites

just can’t say goodbye by @saradika

frankie morales

good night kiss by @just-mj-or-not

fifteen hundred and one by @undercoverpena

one fish, two fish by @penvisions

love bites by @bluestar22x

like the rain by @jennaispunk

javier peña

a kiss to the cheek by @kedsandtubesocks

red by @hellishjoel

public by @notjustjavierpena

and all that could have been by @milla-frenchy

kiss in the rain moodboard by @reddedmiller

golden like daylight by @joelsgreenflannel

handcuffed to the spell i was under by @hellfire-state-of-mind

molten by @dancingtotuyo

joel miller

after the rain by @mrsmando

right person, wrong time by @studioghibelli

put your sweet lips on my lips by @thetriumphantpanda

if i can’t have us by @jksprincess10

rainy secrets by @sawymredfox

give me tonight by @alltheirdamn

aren’t you gonna tuck me in? by @huntingingoodwill

i know better than to call you mine by @aurorawritestoescape

imperfect for you by @joelscruff

call it what you want by @chaotic-mystery

marcus pike

tunnel vision by @perotovar

pero tovar

the rain still falls by @missredherring

silva

neck kisses by @bruhlpng

[toxicanonymity]

steady as she goes.

3.5k, Clement Mansell x f!reader | spotify playlist CHARACTER BACKGROUND: He does a lot of crimes but car theft is the only thing referenced. He loves Jack White 🎶. He's sexy and has swagger. Hot clips with audio 🥵 🥵 SUMMARY: He takes you out on his idea of a date. WARNINGS: I8+, unsafe p in v (car), creampie. Praise. Mild hybristophilia (craving that criminal cock). Canon-typical destruction of property. Reader can straddle him. Jack (White) gets cucked (by Clem's vocals). ONE SHOT. A/N: Dedicated to @milla-frenchy: happy 500 followers! 🎉 well-deserved (masterlist). I'm so glad we share an interest in this man. And THANK YOU, gifmakers!! Always inspired by gifs from @boydholbrook-fan, @ilovewhiteroses, and more. Co-written with my partner, "Jordi" 🖤.

A car cruises down your street blasting music, but you don't think it's Clement. It's too early. The sun is just starting to set, and you're fresh out of the shower. It's still an hour before he’s supposed to pick you up. But sure enough, the loud rock music gets close enough to make out the White Stripes. You look out the window, and his classic car is rolling into your driveway with the top down. Shoot. You're not ready. But goddamn, he looks good. Too good to worry much about the time. 

You grab the closest item of clothing - a black slip dress – and throw a silk robe on over it. As you rush down the stairs, the car door opens outside. You wait a minute for him to ring the doorbell, but he doesn't. You stick your head outside and he's reclining with his butt against the passenger door and his arms crossed. You slip on a pair of shoes and go out to the driveway. 

********************************

This man is wild. You can tell already, and you met him just last night.

He came into your bar. You took his order and he said, “Whatever you’re drinkin’.”  You were only drinking coke with grenadine, but to your surprise, he nodded without hesitation. You made the drink and watched him take his first sip. “Man, this shit ain't bad,” he said. He had big energy, and his presence really commanded the room despite how casual and carefree he acted. He put the Raconteurs on the jukebox.

Throughout the night, you felt his eyes on you and had a few tense moments. His hand grazed your hip as you passed each other. When you came to give him a refill, he introduced himself before going to play pool. At one point, when he was leaning forward to line up his shot, you noticed a gun sticking out of the back of his pants. You discreetly warned him that the manager would kick him out if she saw it. 

“Keepin’ me outta trouble. That sure is nice of ya, sugar.”

You smile shyly. “Just hide it,” you tell him 

“Why don’tcha come on out and watch me put it away?.” 

His charm was irresistible. 

You quickly found yourself out in the parking lot, pressed up against his car with his nose dragging up your neck.  “Mmm,” he hummed into your skin. “Not every day a lady sees my gun.” You felt something against your hip, looked down, and were startled to see him holding the gun. “It's okay baby,” he reassured you, then opened the passenger door to the car. “Wanna touch it?” 

“That's okay,” you shook your head, still flustered. “It looks nice though.”

“Yeah? How ‘bout I let ya shoot it tomorrow?” he asked as he leaned over to open the glovebox.

“Really?” You asked, heart fluttering. 

He acted like he was mentally debating it, then laid his weight into you against the car again. He rested his hands loosely on your sides. “Really,” he murmured, then leaned in for a slow kiss -- no tongue, but it felt pornographic nonetheless. “Pick you up at eight.” 

Instead of going back inside, he got in his car and peeled off, blasting the White Stripes.

********************************

You take in the view of Clement leaning against his car in your driveway. He's wearing a dark, button-up shirt and a chain. His shapely arms stretch the material. 

“You're really early,” you smile, almost breaking into a laugh. “Wanna come in while I finish getting ready?” 

“I dunno about that,” he drops his hands to his sides, then stands upright and slowly steps forward. He looks you up and down and his voice becomes sultry as he gets closer. “Look ready to me.” 

You assure him it'll only take fifteen minutes. 

“I dunno if I can wait that long,” he murmurs as he comes within arm’s reach. He runs his hands down your sides, his expansive palms gliding over the silky robe. 

You suppress a giggle. “You can wait fifteen minutes.”  

“Course I can,” he murmurs, getting right up against you. He brings his mouth to your ear and lowers his pitch.  “But I ain't gonna.” He grabs your ass. “Mmm.” 

Your cheeks heat up. Has he noticed you're not wearing panties? “Look perfect,” he insists. He goes to open the passenger door. All the thoughts are gone from your brain.

You get in the car, no bra, no panties, no jacket. And somehow you feel completely comfortable. 

-

Clement rests a broad, veiny hand on your thigh as he drives. His touch is light, and he occasionally takes his hand away to make a turn. When he passes the shooting range and keeps going, you ask, “I thought we were gonna shoot.” 

“Oh we are, darlin'. You're gonna be my gorgeous gunslinger.” He smiles and turns up the music.

He drives to the outskirts of the city, pulls into an industrial area, and parks behind a big abandoned building. There's one flood light and it’s buzzing, casting a flickering white light on the gravel. 

Clement parks and turns off the car, then gets out. He pulls a six pack out of the back seat. You get out and join him at the back fender.

He opens a bottle of PBR beer and takes a swig, then offers you your own bottle from the six pack. 

“I'm good,” you decline.

“You sure?” He asks, holding the new bottle up. It's a Mexican Coke.

“Oh, wow,” your face lights up.

He opens the bottle with a wink and mentions, “didn't have cherry.” 

Your heart flutters and your ears get hot as you accept the drink.   

You sit on the back of his car talking and enjoying your drinks for a while. You shiver and he asks, “you alright?”

“Well, I'm not really dressed,” you laugh. 

“Lucky for you, this car came with a jacket.” He hops off the trunk of the car and reaches behind the driver’s seat. When he returns a few moments later, he’s wearing a vintage brown leather jacket and holding a jacket for you. 

“Looks about right, whatcha think?”  

“Yeah.” You carefully step down off the car. 

"Hold on,” he says and drapes the jacket over one arm. Then he steps in closer and nudges his fingers under your robe, hitting your bare shoulders and giving you goosebumps. He nudges the robe off, and it falls down to your elbows. You take it off. His eyes glue to your chest. You rub your arms. He holds out the jacket for you and you let him put it on. 

He looks you up and down and gives a low whistle. “Perfect,” he nods. Then he steps closer and slips his hands inside your jacket, sliding them along your silk dress, then resting warmly on your lower back. He pulls you into him for a hug. Your erect nipples are poking him through the fabric. He lets out a low growl and pulls you in tighter. A warm, mostly soft bulge presses into you and makes you throb. He noses your hair and inhales as he grabs a handful of ass. 

“Ready?” He asks in a low growl, and you've forgotten what he's referring to. 

“Hm?” You respond. 

“Ready to shoot?”

“Uh, yeah.” It doesn't seem like the safest environment, but there's something sexy about it, too. Your gut tells you he's dangerous, but you like it because he makes you feel safe at the same time. Like you’re not the one in danger. 

“One second.” He grabs something from under the driver’s seat and puts it in his pocket. It looks vaguely flask shaped but taller. It barely fits. Lastly, he gets his gun out of the glovebox and puts it in the back of his pants. 

—

Clement lights a cigarette, then you walk with him toward the floodlight. He puts his arm around you and offers you the cigarette, but you decline.

“Mmm good girl,” he murmurs with the cigarette still in his mouth. “I can tell ya ain't *too* good though.” 

“Hey. I turned down beer and cigarettes. How do you know I'm not good?”

“Just got that vibe, baby.” He squeezes your arm. “And I sure am glad.” 

There are multiple wide garage doors along the side of the building. You arrive at a door that's lifted up two or three feet.  He holds it at the bottom and slides it up another foot or so. You still have to crouch down, and you hold your dress and the jacket against your bare thighs as you do it. It's spooky inside. Way too dark, and the space is derelict. 

Once Clement's inside the building with you, he pulls a string hanging from the above. Then he drops his cigarette and the sparks bounce over a dirty concrete floor before he stops it out. Several bulbs buzz awake along the high ceiling, evenly spaced but far apart. The furthest one is against a half painted brick wall. There are crates stacked up along some of the walls and a few in the middle of the space. As you get closer, the light clearly illuminates a host of bullet holes in the back wall. There are also casings on the floor. On the wall to your right, some of the windows are busted out. 

He takes his jacket off and lays it on a crate against the wall. He removes his gun from his pants and puts his leg arm around you as he shows it to you. It’s a silver gun with two swallows engraved on the handle. The birds have their wings spread and are facing each other. 

“It was my daddy’s,” he says. “Only thing Mama saved for me.”

His face hardens and he turns and aims toward the back wall, triceps bulging under his shirt. He pulls the trigger. The gunshot is loud, but not as terrible as it could be. Debris bounces off the wall.

He hands you the gun, and. you accept it apprehensively.

“Are you sure this is okay? Here?” You have to wonder about people hearing the gunshots, and plus how you're destroying the wall.

“Don't you worry, darlin’. Place won't be around much longer anyway.” 

“Okay.”

“Ever shot a gun?”

“Yeah but I'm rusty.” 

“You'll be fine, darlin’. Go ahead.” You aim it hesitantly, half expecting the entire wall to crumble. Clement gets behind you and braces his hands on your arms. “Steady now,” he murmurs. His body is so close to yours, you get butterflies. Then he puts his arms around you. He doesn’t help you aim right away. He noses your temple and inhales your scent. “Mmm,” he hums. You relax your arms, holding the gun with your elbows bent. Then he plans a wet kiss on your neck. “Can’t help myself, sugar.” He kisses and sucks at your neck and you moan. He lightly bites you and you take your right hand off the gun to reach back for his head. You're gushing, and wonder if it's going to run down your legs at this rate.

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head. “Wanna see ya shoot first.”

You let out a disappointed sigh, and he rests his hands on your hips. He presses his pelvis forward, and a hard shape in his pants gives you a rush of need. He murmurs, “You feel that? Oooh.” His hands on your hips pull you back on his bulge. “You can have it when you're done.” 

You compose yourself and aim the gun again. He slightly adjusts your arms and directs you toward an unblemished patch of paint straight ahead, just above the exposed brick. “Hit that, and we’re done.”

It only takes you one shot.

“Well hot damn!” He celebrates. “Look at you.” You hand the gun back to him. He slinks around you, hugs you from behind again, and murmurs “don't even need my help, do ya,” then kisses your neck again. “Let's go,” he says into your skin, then retrieves his jacket from the crate. As you're walking back toward the garage door, he turns around and starts walking backwards and whistling. You glance back and he's pulled a bottle of lighter fluid out of his pocket. He's trailing the liquid as he walks. 

Your heart jumps to your throat. “What are you doing?”

“Ohh, don't worry, darlin’. It'll burn slow at first. Plenty’a time to get outta here.” He holds the garage door up for you to duck under. He flips the lid of the lighter fluid closed and crams it back in his pocket. 

You back away as he takes out a matchbook. He lights a match and drops it into the lighter fluid. The fire races under the garage door and Clement’s eyes are beaming darkly in the glow of it. After a moment, he says, “Woo! Lets go, baby.” You're speechless, and very turned on. He takes your hand in his and charges toward the car. His stride is so long, you're nearly jogging to keep up.

“Hahaaa,” he laughs to himself as he gets in the car. He revs the engine and turns on the music. He pops a breath mint. He sings along with Blue Orchid, and his voice really isn't half bad. 

“Where are we going?” You ask.

He looks at you fondly for a moment. “Love a woman who's up for adventure.” He puts his hand behind you to reverse.

As he drives by the building, you crane your neck to see. The fire is only a flickering glow through the busted out windows so far.

He turns down the music only slightly. “Stars are out tonight,” he observes. “Know a spot with a great view,” he offers as you exit the property. 

“Ok,” you try to suppress a smile. 

“Yeah!” He yells and peels off on the main road. You look up at the stars with the wind in your hair. Soon, he turns onto another dark road, somewhat winding, uphill.

-

He parks in a dark corner of an abandoned office park. It's littered with empty bottles and faded cans. The chainlink fence has half fallen down, and there are a couple of steel drums. Clement gets out of the car.   With most of this part of town abandoned, the light pollution isn't very close. You're up on a hill now, too. 

He takes the lighter fluid out of his pocket, squirts it in the barrel, and drops the plastic container in with it. Then he lights the matchbook on fire, drops it. And a blaze quickly grows in the barrel.

Then he gets back in the car and moves the seat back. He leans over and pulls you in for a heated kiss. Then he pulls back and murmurs, “Now get over here” as he takes off his jacket. 

—-

Thankfully, the car is roomy and so are the seats. You take off your jacket and put the robe back on. The air is cool and crisp and feels fine. As you climb over to straddle Clement, he greets you with his hands on your thighs. He slides his palms all the way up the backs of your thighs and reaches your bare ass. Then he lifts your little slip dress and says “God *damn*,” at the sight of your bare cunt.  “If I knew this. . .”

“You didn't let me get ready,” you lightly punch his chest with a hint of laughter, cheeks burning. He chuckles.

“Well good. Guess I'm *never* gonna let ya get ready.” Your heart flutters at the implied future. He sticks his left hand between your legs and cups your bare cunt. “Oh, baby.” You hover above his thighs while he leans back and unbuttons his pants, then unzips and pulls them down to expose a massive bulge in his white briefs. Your breath hitches at the sight. 

He grabs your ass and pulls you forward so your crotch meets his cotton-clad bulge, and a shock of desire spreads through your body like fire. He thrusts upward and you moan at the contact of his warm, hard, package. He kisses you and uses his hands on your hips to rub you against him with your mouths connected. He breaks the kiss with a sigh and says, “Fuck, let's go.” He shoves his hand down his briefs and you allow him the space to take out his commanding cock and balls. Your mouth falls open. 

“Not as huge as it looks,” he reassures you. “Gonna love every inch of it.” You nod. It's the girth that has you wide-eyed.

“Oh you're drippin’ on me, sugar.” He lets his thick manhood rest against his lower belly and pulls you in so your clit presses against his warm, smooth shaft and you’re aching to have him inside you. “Let’s feed this hungry pussy already.” 

He holds his cock as you hover over it then begin to slowly lower yourself, getting closer to entry. You pause, and he runs his tip through your dripping folds and helps spread the slick down his shaft. Then he nestles his tip at your entrance and you twitch. 

You begin to sink down on him, with his tip spreading you wide open. “Mmm,” you whine. 

“Yeah, good girl. . . you can take it, baby.” It's every bit as big as it looks. You sink down, feeling taken apart in the best way, and he pulls you down flush. 

Speared on his engorged cock, pleasure races through your chest and thighs, out to every inch of your body. 

“You good?” He asks, chest heaving. 

You rise up then sink back down.

“Attagirl,” he murmurs. “want ya to hear somethin’.” He reaches for the tape deck and changes the cassette. He presses play and it's Ball and Biscuit by the White Stripes. 

“I know this one,” you smile. It's a sexy, languid alt blues song. 

“Just wait for the next one,” he murmurs, looking at you with a raging lust in his eyes. His cock twitches inside you. He pulls your face into his again and lifts his hips, pushing farther into you. You've never felt so full. “Oh baby,” he breaks the kiss. “You feel so good.” His face is so handsome in the flickering fire light. His blue eyes look almost black. The slice of bare flesh in his eyebrow is too sexy. You run your hands through his hair and he groans at the light rake of your fingers against his scalp.

He lifts into you to the beat of the song. You begin to roll your hips in sync with him. 

“Ohhh, yeah,” he breathes. Part of you wants him to lose control and ravish you, but this slow fuck is perfect for the intense stretch of your cunt around his cock.

You kiss and moan as your bodies move together, and the pleasure swells deep inside you, all around his cock. He nudges the silk robe off your shoulders and pulls down the straps of your dress. He groans at the sight of your breasts. He covers one with a hand and one with his mouth and his whole body is moving in time with the music. Your chest feels light. For the rest of the song, your body is wrapped around his, and his hips are slightly lifting you with each thrust.  

The same song starts over, but it's not the same singer. The voice is smoother, deeper than Jack White’s. You pull your head back to listen. Clement studies your face, and it takes you a few seconds to recognize the vocals. It’s him, Clement. 

“Holy shit,” you mutter, and his face comes to life. “Your voice is–God.” It's hard piecing sentences together impaled on him.

“You really like it,” he marvels. 

“Of course I do, it's . . . perfect.” 

His eyes soften with affection and he kisses you deeper, smoothly thrusting. He seems to take up all the space in your body. 

The passion between you intensifies until it might burst. You need all of his body. You break away from a messy kiss to undo one of his shirt buttons, then another, and he unbuttons the rest in a hurry, and leans back against the chair as you spread his shirt. His chain sparkles in the firelight. It's hanging slightly above a chest tattoo that has the same birds as the gun. His tan skin glistens in the flickering glow.

You plant your hands on his hard pecs to ride him. The movement of his hips becomes more pronounced, and soon he's taken over. He thrusts upward sharply but smoothly and starts fucking you from the bottom, grunting and sighing. He pulls you down on him each time he thrusts. You moan, feeling like you're on the brink. 

He pulls you close again and kisses you sloppily while your bodies move as one. “Clem, I'm gonna–”

“Mmm,” he cuts you off. He grunts and moans against your mouth. He's close too. 

“I'm gonna fill ya up, baby. . .You want that?” he pants. 

You nod.

“You want big Clement dribbling’ down your thighs?” 

You nod urgently.  

“That's my girl.” His massive hands move you on his cock, and you whimper as you begin to unravel. You clench around him, and he fucks you through it. Then he grunts as he thrusts upward “nngg—ohhhh, uugggh.” He pulses into you, warmth spreading in your core as you finish choking his cock. 

You collapse into his arms and twitch with aftershocks as he cradles your head. After a minute, you're still impaled on him and he says your name. You pull your head back. 

He looks back and forth between your eyes. A firetruck siren interrupts you. There are more sirens in the distance. Clement shifts his head to look past you, through the windshield, through the broken chain-link fence. His eyes illuminate warmly and he breaks into a small smile. You look behind yourself to see a building on fire in the distance. It's now half engulfed in flames. 

What a view. This man is wild, and you can't get enough of him. 

-------- -------- Thank you so much for reading!! If you want, you can subscribe to notifications on @toxicfics for all my fics. If you want to be on a Boyd Holbrook character tag list lmk but fyi I sometimes write dark. I have a dark fic rn called The Raid with Steve and Javi. Javi captures reader to make her get clean (off drugs) and she's very horny for them. Steve shows up in part 2, then he has his own PWP one shot, Javi isn't home. Series ongoing.

[pedrospatch]

wip wednesday

tysm for the tags loves! @alltheirdamn @sawymredfox @milla-frenchy @almostfoxglove @penvisions @cavillscurls @arcanefox207 @strang3lov3 @evolnoomym @mermaidgirl30 <33

i said i wasn't going to participate, but i sorta have something to share? it is a super lengthy jackson! joel one shot i thought of last year that i want to write for the holidays. it is not holiday themed per say, but does take place during fall and winter seasons and if i do write it, it will be shared in december. most of it will remain top secret for now. okay i'll stop babbling and share a snippet.

You shouldn’t be alone, Maria had told you. Not at a time like this. Perhaps she’s right. Perhaps you shouldn’t be alone. Not when the grief is so heavy. Too heavy. But being surrounded by people who felt sorry for you—that’s not what you need, either. You could hardly stand the way the entire town looked at you during the service, the pity in everyone’s eyes as they each came up to you, one by one, to express their condolences with tired clichés accompanied by unwanted hugs and pathetic pats on your shoulder. Poor girl lost her momma, and now her daddy, too. She’s all alone. There’s a loud knock at the door and it startles you out of your thoughts. Wiping at your damp, swollen eyes with the back of your hand, you bite back a sigh and stand up from the couch, hoping it’s not another member of the community showing up with another home-cooked meal for you. You had a refrigerator crammed full of food, most of it which you know will go bad—even when you do eventually get your appetite back, one human being can only eat so much damn green bean casserole. When you pull open the door, you’re already prepared to thank whoever is standing there on your porch with a sympathetic smile on their face, a dish of something or other—green bean casserole, you’re willing to bet—in their hands. Instead, you’re taken by complete surprise when you see the older man you’re all too familiar with standing there, his broad, hulking frame nearly taking up the entire doorway. “Joel?” “Hey, darlin’,” he says softly, his hands tucked in the pockets of his brown jacket. No casserole to offer—thank god. “What are you doing here?” you question, as if isn’t obvious. “Came over to check on you.” Joel clears his throat. “I, uh—I didn’t get the chance to talk to you after the service with all those people goin’ up to you.” He can barely look at you, and you know why. He feels guilty. After all, he’d been the last person to see your father alive. Joel had been with him when he took his last breath—showed up at your front door in the middle of the night, shirt covered in his blood to deliver the news to you. His only child, his young daughter who had nobody left. He shuffles apprehensively from boot to boot. “Y’okay?” “No,” you answer, simply. “Are you?” Joel exhales a shaky breath, responds with a barely audible, “No.”  You step aside and gesture for him to come inside. “Well then,” you say, swallowing the thick lump climbing its way up your throat. “How about you come in? I’ll make a pot of coffee and we can be not okay together?”

tagging anyone who wants to participate! and please tag me so i can read about your wips!

[boydholbrook-fan]

300 Followers Milestone & it's also my Birthday today!

In a little celebration of reaching 300 followers here on tumblr and also as I'm turning 28 today! : I would like to thank you all for following me here on Tumblr! I truly appreciate it!

I'm gonna repeat myself again but

Now I have 304 followers and so I wanna thank you all, every single one of you, so much again for following me, and then also for liking, reblogging, commenting, sharing, just simply interacting with my posts and all! It really means a lot to me! And even to those not following me, thank you so much for the interactions with my posts and all!

I’ve had the chance to meet so many wonderful, talented and kind people through the year and a couple of months here on tumblr!

And to my favorite mutuals here:

@ilovewhiteroses @kurjaks @ionlyjoinedforboydholbrook @pnwdagnabbit

@toxicanonymity @milla-frenchy @r3dheadedwitch @ithinkwehitametaphor

@inafieldofdaisies @thehemsworld @evenmyhivemindisempty @chieko-pp

Thank you for your kindness and generosity! Thank you for loving my posts! Thank you for being friends with me! You guys are so sweet, kind, wonderful and talented! I’m so happy to share love and support for Boyd with you! I appreciate every single one of you! All the best and much love to you all! ❤️❤️❤️

And most importantly, I'm so happy and it's wonderful to see you all showing support and love for Boyd! Also to see the fans outside Tumblr showing support and love for Boyd as well is just heartwarming! He totally deserves all the love, support and respect! He deserves nothing but the best! 'Cause he's the best!

He is such a phenomenal and true actor! Such an exceptional talent! Such a lovely and kind person! Nice guy! Precious and wonderful human being with a huge heart! Handsome man! That is Boyd Holbrook!

And I love him so much and admire him so much! And I'm so proud of him! He's incredible! He's the best! I'll never get tired of saying all this! Because it's true! Deal with it! ❤️❤️❤️🌟🌟🌟🔥🥰😍❤️‍🔥

And lastly, I wanna give a huge thank you to Boyd Holbrook for blessing our screens with his exceptional talent!

BOYD HOLBROOK IS A LEGEND!

[aurorawritestoescape]

TABLE FOR THREE

Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York || 3,2k

Summary: you’re having a great time on your date but a man from your past interrupts it and makes it…better?

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, mfm, not specified age gap, dom/sub dynamic, infidelity (reader’s, in the past), manhandling, daddy kink, praise kink, size kink, degradation, slut shaming, m!oral, cum eating, mutual masturbation, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, light spanking, voyeurism, exhibitionism (they don’t get caught),mention of violence, pet names (baby, kitten, babygirl, sweetheart). Pics are for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: this is filthy, y’all. Big thank you to an insanely talented writer @bonezone44 for inspiring me with this post. Smooching and hugging @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and screaming about this story with me. Love you all, hope you’ll enjoy it!💖 dividers by @saradika-graphics

PT 2 WHO’S YOUR DADDY? || MASTERLIST

Your boyfriend Dave and you are having dinner in your favorite restaurant. Your regular booth is tucked in a corner, hidden from the prying eye of the other guests. You two love coming here because you can enjoy each other without being seen, thanks to the tall backrests. Now you’re laughing, kissing and Dave’s hand is resting on your upper thigh, barely covered by your short skirt. His thumb is caressing your soft skin and your mind brings you back to the night before when he was railing you while you were sucking on the thick finger and moaning like a whore.

Suddenly a man plops on the seat in front of you with a smug smile.

Joel fucking Miller.

‘Shit, shit, shit,’ you repeat in your head as your heart freezes.

“Hello, sweetheart. Knew it was you. Saw you in the window passing by.”

He motions somewhere to the right of you and you inwardly curse his sharp eye.

“Want to introduce us, baby?” Dave asks with a cold tone in his voice and throws his arm around you in a possessive gesture.

You clear your throat and say as calmly as possible while panic twists your stomach.

“It’s Joel Miller, my— ehm, old friend.”

Joel chuckles, “Well, if old friends fuck like rabbits and live together for 3 years then I guess I’m that.”

He keeps laughing as you’re boring your eyes into him.

“Joel is my ex,” you admit, highlighting the last word with an expression of disgust on your face.

“Ex?” Dave repeats, narrowing his eyes and taking in the man sitting in front of him — older than him, much older than you, a broad torso under a worn out denim shirt, a big fist resting on the table and by the look of it, the man works with his hands. Joel seems to be calm and confident, but judging by the way you tensed, the break up wasn’t pleasant.

“Would never imagine you with a guy like that, sweetheart,” Joel says with a smug smile.

“And what guy am I?” Dave’s voice is coated with steel.

“Not like me, pal. I’m a simple working man, and this one always went for sweaty dirty men like me. You’re all suited up,” his piercing eyes slide to you and he asks, “Shootin’ out of your league, sweetie?”

“Fuck you,” you bite back and Joel smirks. You wanna slap his face so much but Dave takes your chin between his fingers, turns your head to him and looks into your eyes. His gaze under the furrowed brows scares and excites you.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Ok, Dave,” you mewl with a little nod and return your eyes to your troublesome ex.

“It’s her business who she dates. And mine. I guess your relationship ended badly, and I’m sorry, but shit happens, man. Move on.”

It’s so hot how calm he is and you feel your core burn with desire.

Dave pulls you closer to him with his arm still resting on your shoulder and rubs your collar bone with his thumb. Joel’s eyes follow his movements and he rasps,

“Don’t be sorry for me, pal. I’m fine now but ya gonna get burned if you don’t drop this slut.”

“You motherfucking piece—,” you sit up ready to start a fight but Dave’s hand, that a second ago was caressing your skin, flies to your throat and he pushes you back to the seat, not squeezing your neck but holding you seated by his side.

He shushes you and you can’t help but gush.

It’s a usual thing for him to be rough with you in bed, you love the way he manhandles you, breaks you every time you fuck, little by little, making you his. But he has never shown this side of him out of the bedroom. The idea that he’s so dominant with you around people sends electricity of arousal through your body.

With widened eyes you see Joel’s lips twist in a satisfied smile and anger burns your insides with a scolding ire. Only your boyfriend’s steady voice slightly calms you down.

“Joel, you seem like a reasonable man. What would you do if some asshole interrupted your date and started calling your girlfriend a slut. What I would probably do is break his jaw and then his legs.”

Not losing his smug smile, even after hearing your boyfriend’s threat, Joel raises his hands in front of his chest and explains,

“I don’t want any problems with you— it’s Dave, right? I’m doin’ you a favor. Givin’ you advice. Keep away from this minx. She’s good to look at and great to fuck but she’ll use you and then sleep with half of your crew.”

You curse and Dave puts his palm over your mouth. It’s big and warm and you feel your panties soak more.

“Crew?”

“I work in construction. I found out this bitch had slept with half of my team. Married guys, single. She was a hungry slut and I don’t think anything changed.”

He laughs and you try to take Dave’s hand off your mouth but he grabs your wrists with his strong fingers and keeps your hands on your lap.

“Sit still and let me listen, kitten. Or daddy will be angry.”

You swallow loudly, as your nostrils flare and pussy aches. Only your eyes can move now, darting between the two men.

“I like you, Dave, you have her under your thumb. I was too soft and kind with her. And women like her don’t appreciate kindness.”

Joel’s eyes shift between you and Dave as he continues, “Don't tell me you haven’t noticed. ‘s her nature. Her needy cunt always craves a fat cock. And oh boy, she always knows how to find it.”

You growl under Dave’s palm and he tightens his grip in warning.

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear and then turns to Joel with his eyes narrowed.

“I believe you.”

You hum in protest, wriggling in Dave’s steel embrace, and he takes his hand off your mouth.

“Dave, don’t listen to him, he’s just jealous.”

Joel chuckles, shaking his head.

“You can’t deny the truth, sweetheart. I caught you with a guy’s dick in your mouth, my friend’s dick. And then I beat the truths about your affairs out of the others.”

You glance at Dave with scared eyes but he isn’t looking at you. His pensive gaze is set on Joel.

Then he turns his face to you and blood freezes in your veins.

“I did notice how you looked at the waiter just now, kitten. And that bartender. I know you gave him your number.”

You shake your head, opening your mouth to protest, but he interrupts you.

“Joel isn’t lying. I can tell.”

“He is! I didn’t …”

“Enough!”

You immediately shut your mouth, as soon as Dave slightly raises his voice. He trained you well after all.

“Fuck, good job, man. Look at her. So obedient but still a little feisty.”

Dave smirks and you see pride in his eyes when he hears your ex’s words.

“And she knows how to take cock, huh?” Joel looks at you, adjusting a bulge in his jeans.

You’re glaring at him but your mind bursts with images from your past, him pounding into you, his huge cock stretching you so deliciously and then pumping you full of his thick cum. His skilful fingers could make you explode in minutes and you’d never forget the way he ate your pussy. Dave is perfect in bed but Joel was unforgettable.

“Look at ‘er, she’s probably creamin’ right now, the way she’s starin’ at me.”

Dave smirks darkly and looks you over.

“Let’s find out.”

With that he shifts in his seat, slightly turning his big body to you, and his hand on your thigh slides up and under the hem of your skirt.

“Dave”, you breathe in sharply, widened eyes looking at him.

“Shh, baby, I’m just gonna check.”

His hand pulls your skirt up and he sees your black lacy panties. Joel grunts and leans forward placing his big hairy forearms on the table so he could see what Dave is doing.

Your boyfriend’s thick fingers slip under your panties and you blurt out,

“I’m wet because of you, Dave.”

“Is that so, kitten?” Dave asks but doesn’t look at you. His dark gaze is set on your clothed cunt as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to his and Joel’s eyes.

“Fuck, Dave, you’re the man,” Joel praises your boyfriend and you see hunger in the older man’s eyes. You’re so turned on right now, you know you’re dripping.

Dave tsks when he spreads your folds apart and your cunt blooms for them - your clit throbbing, skin glistening with your slick. The cold air hits your pussy and you softly moan.

“Dave, people could see,” you whine and try to close your legs but Dave’s hand stops you and you feel his lips at your temple when he says, loud enough for Joel to hear,

“Let’s ask your old friend to sit next to you and cover you from the passers-by. Will you feel more comfortable, baby?”

You glance up at Joel and though you hate his guts, you can’t deny that you want the fucker.

You nod and Joel’s lips stretch into a wide carnal grin.

He gets up and you salivate at the sight of the huge bulge in his jeans. You desperately want to see his cock, touch it, lick it, su—

Dave interrupts your thoughts, shifting to the side and pulling you with him to make room for Joel. The seat is meant for two people and when Joel plops next to you, turning to you a little, your body gets sandwiched between their huge frames. You feel so small, so helpless around the two men and your clit twitches as the arousal floods your core.

With your pussy still out in the open, you glance at Joel when he wraps his arm around your waist and fans your cheek and chest with his hot breath. The familiar scent of cigarettes, whiskey and Joel's musk hits your nose and you quietly whimper.

“Missed me, babygirl?” He’s leaning to you and you move away, pressing your body closer to Dave.

Your boyfriend reads you like a book. He knows that you’re acting skittish but it’s just a facade. You want it, you want them both.

“Baby, you did wrong by Joel. I think we need to apologize. How about we let him play with your pussy? Daddy won’t be mad, I promise.”

You look into Dave’s eyes and see that he’s not lying.

“Ok, daddy,” you purr and Joel barks a laugh.

“Told you she always wants it. Our little slut.”

You bite your lip hearing ‘our’ but Dave shakes his head.

“She’s mine, Joel, don’t forget that. But I see that she hurt you, and you have a right to punish her. Use her however you want.”

Joel throws him a nod. “That’s fair.”

With that his big calloused hand cups your pussy and slightly squeezes it. You look at Dave as he watches your ex’s hand touch you and his blown out eyes send another surge of wetness into Joel’s palm.

“I missed your sweet cunt, babygirl,” Joel whispers in your ear while his middle finger slips between your folds and he prods your soaking entrance.

“Fuck, she’s so wet, Dave. I remember how she used to soak me, her slick was fuckin’ everywhere. Wonder if she tastes the same.”

You see his finger leave your pussy as he brings it to his mouth and licks it clean.

Dave groans and you moan, watching Joel taste you.

Suddenly you feel a slap on your pulsating clit and you jerk, crying out a little too loudly. You cover your mouth with your palm, scared that the people will notice what the men are doing to you but Joel and Dave only chuckle.

“I fucked her last week in a changing room and she moaned like a little slut but now she’s all embarrassed.”

“I loved it about her. She looks so innocent but when you get her going… fuck, she jus’ loses her mind at the sight of a cock.”

You feel your cheeks burn but Dave doesn’t give you a chance to wallow in your delicious shame and inserts two thick fingers into your wet hole.

You moan his name and he kisses your cheek, before he begins sliding them in and out of you in steady rhythm, whispering obscenities in your ear,

“My little slut,” “bet people can see us”, “you don’t care, right?”, “I know you’d make us fuck you right in front of everyone”, “play with our cocks, baby, c’mon.”

When you hear his command, your hand immediately darts to his bulge and you hastily unbuckle his belt with one hand, open his dress pants and pull out his stiffening cock out of his boxers.

“Don’t forget about your friend, kitten,” Dave rasps, spreading his legs wider, and you unzip Joel’s jeans and take out his already hard manhood.

Their cocks are exposed now and standing at attention, both gorgeous, long and thick. Joel’s is a bit girthier, but you salivate looking at both of them. You can’t deny it, you have a great taste in men.

You spit on your hands and grab Dave’s member with your left hand and Joel’s with your right. They both grunt, when you start sliding your hand up and down their throbbing cocks and you revel in the sense of control they’re giving you. Their slits are leaking on your skin and you glide your palm over their fat tips, gathering their precum to make the cocks wetter.

You’re a mess yourself, the seat under you is getting slippery because of the juices seeping out of your pussy, thanks to your boyfriend’s fingers.

Joel is softly growling, watching your hand pump his cock and Dave working your cunt. “Fuck, I missed you so much, babygirl,” he admits and grabs the neckline of your top. He tugs it down exposing your naked breasts, your perked up mipples and Joel takes one between his index finger and a thumb and shakes his hand up and down. You whimper at the pain that swiftly morphs into pleasure while your tit is bouncing. Joel hunches down and takes it into his hot mouth, gently sucking on it. Your hand flies to run through his hair and your eyes flutter shut, as your climax approaches.

“Come for us, kitten. Soak my fingers,” Dave orders and Joel pushes you over the edge when his fingers find your pulsating clit and he swirls it with his pads while his mouth is still latched on your puffy nipple. Both Dave and Joel are playing with your cunt and soon you’re writhing between them, as waves of euphoria are lapping at your body. You try not to scream but it’s almost impossible, so you bite your lips till you taste blood, desperately trying to hide your ecstasy from the people in the restaurant.

When your orgasm subsides and you slump in your seat, breathing heavily, Joel’s mouth leaves your breast and their fingers part from your messy pussy.

You languidly stroke their cocks, feeling them thrum in your hands.

Dave turns your face to him and kisses you, licking into your mouth, claiming you as his in front of the other man. While your lips and tongues are caressing each other, you hear Joel almost moan from the pleasure your hand is giving him and you part from your boyfriend to whisper,

“He’s gonna come soon, daddy.”

“Want his cum, kitten?”

You nod and he smiles.

“Sit on my cock so I can fill you up. And give your mouth to Joel.”

“Yes, daddy.”

You fix your top and Dave helps you to sit on his stiff member. You both moan at the sensation but Joel curses at the absence of your hand on his ready-to-explode cock.

When you lean down, bringing your mouth to his length, the older man coos, “what a good little slut. Want my load, babygirl?” You look up at him and breathe out a sultry ‘yes’.

“C’mon, milk our cocks, kitten,” Dave commands with a light slap on your ass and you clench around him, making him grunt.

You take Joel’s manhood in your mouth and it’s like those years apart didn’t happen. The taste of his skin, the shape of his cock are so familiar you moan, thinking how much you missed it.

Dave slowly rolls his hips into you, holding your hips with his strong hands and his length slides in and out of your clenching wet hole. You feel the second climax build fast, so you move your hips up and down to make him fuck you harder.

“Man, you did wonders with her. She’s such an obedient little slut now,” Joel praises your boyfriend as their cocks are filling your body from both ends.

“It’s a work in progress, but she’ll be a good girl in no time.”

The way they talk about you like you’re not here, like you’re not pierced on their hard cocks is so delicious that after one hard thrust from Dave, you explode, unravelling on your boyfriend’s manhood as your moans are muffled by your ex’s fat length.

Your trembling body sends the men over the precipice, and Joel starts spurting his warm cum in your mouth and you drink it, hungrily slurping till the last drop. As soon as you’re done swallowing your ex’s load, Dave pulls you up by your shoulder and presses you tight to his body, wrapping his arm around your waist, the other hand splayed on your chest. You feel warmth in your core as his manhood is pulsing inside your pussy and filling you up with his big load. Joel tucks his softening cock back in his jeans, watching your boyfriend’s balls draw up and pump you full while your hole is stretched around his girth.

When Dave stops coming, he carefully lifts you up and quickly pulls back your panties. You sit back down between the men as Dave softly kisses your lips in gratitude and then orders you,

“Don’t spill a drop, baby. Want you to soak your little panties through.”

“Can I see?” Joel asks the younger man, not you, and Dave gives him a short nod.

Joel brings his hand to your pussy and pulls on the band of your underwear. He peeks inside, seeing the creamy cum coat the gusset and your puffy folds.

“You're so fuckin’ hot, babygirl. Did so good for us.” Joel mumbles in your ear and you glance up at him with a little smile. You can’t deny it, you loved this fucker.

As if reading your mind, Joel shoots you a wink and looks at Dave again.

“Was nice meeting you, Dave.” Then he takes a card out of his wallet and puts it on the table.

“If you wanna share the progress, training this one,” he nods at you, “give me a call.”

Then he gets up, adjusts his bulge and leaves the restaurant.

Thank you for reading!❤️ Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic, it motivates me to write more filth for you, lovelies!🩷🌸

Pt 2 Who’s your daddy? || Masterlist

Main tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag

Also tagging the ceo of the Dave York agenda @janaispunk 😘💕

If you'd like to be tagged in the series or in anything else let me know!💕

[mountainsandmayhem]

fic authors self rec! when you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. (if you feel like it, no pressure.) spread the self-love 💞

Aaahhhh!!! I’m a shy baby, but now you, @burntheedges and @milla-frenchy have sent it to me so I guess I’ll share 🫣

BDSMaid, probably obvious. This has definitely become a project from my very heart and you’re all just so sweet asking for updates or getting excited when it gets close to the date for the next chapter. I can’t thank you all enough!

Tess’s Treasure. This is almost 10k words of pure fucking filth. There’s Dom!Tess, Dom!Joel, Dom!OFC all for Sub!Reader.

Wonderful Tonight. I just love Pike and I KNOW he would have treated me right if he had been the father of my baby. Pregnancy trope, not for me. Pike + Pregnanch trope…very much for me.

You’re Mine, Little Dove. I like all of the Little Dove stories but this was my first ever fic and it was so well received. I’m not kidding when I say that I honestly thought 3 people would see it, and now 7 months later and there’s 1300 of you following me. Mind blowing! I’m so grateful 🥹

Shhh…Just A Little Bit More. My first DBF!Joel that I only planned to have this one story for and then it spurred into a part 2 and 2 versions of part 3. I’ve maybe thought of a part 4 but the Maid story is my priority right now while I don’t have a lot of writing time.

Thank you thank you THANK YOU to everyone who has read/liked/reblogged/left comments on my work. I love you all so fuckin much 😫

[pedge-page]

just cut my hand and i’m losing my mind thinking about joel licking up my blood. i need blood kink!joel like i need air

Anon: I do hope your hand is better!!! Im sorry this has been in my inbox forever but here's my drabble for it.

Warnings: blood kink!Joel, blood, toxic controlling Joel

- - - -

You're slicing vegetables for your homemade soup when you knick your pointer finger with the blade, hissing loudly.

It didn't feel like much aside from a sharp sting, but the blood flowing down your palm and to your wrist screamed otherwise.

"Shit," you curse, searching for a towel to wrap your hand in.

Your movements are haulted when you feel a calloused grip hold your arm out, firmly, almost painfully so. His body pins your hips to the counters edge, his hot breath sending goosebumps over the shell of your ear.

You close your eyes. Prayers fill your mind that he can't feel your heartbeat through your back, doesn't know the fear youre feeling right now under his presence, against his sturdy powerful body, knowing it'd end badly if you even tried to resist him.

He doesn't say anything. Your wrist trembles in his grasp, the blood shining darkly against your skin, thick and oozing down to your forearm now. You both watch as a drop begins to form, threatening to spill past your elbow.

But it quickly finds safety—or perhaps greater danger—when Joel's lips enclose around it. He hums as the bitter metallic taste overwhelms his taste buds. You gasp at the nudge of his hardened cock still pressed against your ass.

He swallows, then trail his tongue over the crimson path, lips ghosting over the clean areas he's engulfed. You feel hot kisses bruning into your skin, tongue flat, lapping up every microbe of your blood until he's taking your hand in his mouth, eyes meeting yours as he sucks more and more of it, drawing closer till he's suckling straight from the source of your cut.

He groans, heavy lidded eyes narrowed on your wide ones. You see his apple bob in his throat as he cleans your wound with his saliva before he kisses the wound one last time.

"Th-thank you, Joel—"

He roughly grips the back of your neck and clashes his lips on yours. Devouring, nipping, skinning you alive if could in this kiss that is anything but loving. Anything but reassuring. It's a threat, and so clearly when you gasp as his teeth sink into your lower lip.

You pull away instinctively, feeling a swell in your mouth.  he licks your fresh blood from his own lips, savoring it, relishing in swallowing something sacred of yours.

His thumb glides along the puffy cut he'd given you, pushing down slightly with a threatening grip around your jaw "Be careful, birdie. Ain't nobody, not even you, allowed to hurt this body—nobody—"

He tilts his head and stares into your soul with a growl. "—'cept me."

- - - -

Permanent Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover

[mermaidgirl30]

Wip Wednesday!

Thanks for the tag @evolnoomym 🩵 This week I’ve been finishing up the first chapter of Saddle Me Up, Cowboy and started on the second chapter of Saving What Was Lost.

1. Cowboy! Joel

“My, my. You got your hands full. Don’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, fluttering your eyelashes flirtatiously up at him. You like him even more now.

“Reckon I do,” he chuckles, his thumb tracing light circles against the back of your hand, eliciting goosebumps down your arms.

“Too full to handle one more thing?” you question, giving him your best puppy dog eyes that you can manage.

He shakes his head and smiles warmly. “If that one thing is you then ‘course not. Got all the room for you, darlin’.”

2. Ch 2 of Saving What Was Lost

When he returns and sets the bottle of creamer and a shaker of sugar down in front of you, you crack. A tear slips down your cheek, and you look up at him through glassy eyes. “I can’t remember what I loved to do before they—before they took me. My hobbies, my passions, my likes. I just don’t remember…” Your voice is barely audible as it shakes beneath your broken stature.

God, you’re so broken.

His jaw flexes and his knuckles tighten into closed fists. He seems angry, but those sad brown eyes tell a different story. He’s not mad at you; he’s furious about the ones that took your life away. The murders that tainted and destroyed your life, your mind, your heart. They took everything from you, and Joel knows this. He hates it as much as you do.

He takes a deep breath and relaxes his fingers against the cold material of the kitchen island, his brown eyes focused directly on you. His bottom lip twitches, and then he sighs as he speaks. “It’s gonna take a while, sweetheart. Gonna take time and work to remember what it was you loved before, what you lost. But I have no doubts that you’ll get ‘em back. You’re gonna discover new loves, new passions, new hobbies. And trust me when I say that you will thrive. One day, you’re gonna be soarin’, and all this pain and sufferin’ will be gone. Maybe not completely, but you’re gonna fly, sweetheart. Wings and all.”

Another tear escapes your lash line, and you nod up at him slowly. “Thank you…” is all you can muster out of your highly emotional state. Thoughts are hard after he just painted a masterpiece with his words.

You’re gonna fly, sweetheart. The words stay sealed in a safe space deep inside your mind. No one can take what he just said away from you. Words that were spoken straight from your savior. Words meant just for you. Wings and all.

No pressure tags 🩵 @joelstummy @tonysopranosrobe @pedrospatch @alltheirdamn @katiexpunk

@burntheedges @mountainsandmayhem @magpiepills @almostfoxglove @almostempty

@aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @thundermartini @yxtkiwiyxt @604to647 @syd-djarin

[missrubybird]

Seven Sims and a Unicorn

Thanks to the EA Creator Network I was able to get the new Sims 4 Horse Ranch Expansion Pack a little earlier and right away got to making a bunch of townies to go with the lore and existing pre-made Sims in Chestnut Ridge.

Below the cut you’ll find:

The Sims Download Link

Sims’ Backstories and Traits

CC Links and Credits

All Sims have all 8 Outfits using only HR and Basegame

Have fun!   ♥️ 🦄 ♥️

CC Links: Freckles//Lashes (make sure to download all 3 versions!)

Please Note:

There is CC included in the Download Files, make sure to put it in your Mods Folder along with the CC linked above! 

You need a No EA Lashes mod for the Sims to look exactly like they do in the pictures!

The Unicorn has my Default horse eyes, please be aware of this in case you're using other horse Defaults

Credits:@tamosim@vibrantpixels@vegantrait@rheallsim  Thank you so much for your generous TOUs! ♥️♥️♥️

DOWNLOAD

Sims' Backstories (from left to right and top to bottom):

Issi Miashintubbee (loves the outdoors/loyal/rancher) Tula Miashintubbee (silly)

Issi comes from a long line of ranch owners and was supposed to take over her parents' ranch and business and get married to the father of her daughter Tula. To her family's shock and surprise one day she decided she was tired of everyone's expectations and the path already decided for her and packed her stuff and set off with Tula into the unknown to find out what it is that she really wants. Will she find her fortune in Chestnut Ridge? And what does Tula think of all this?

River Dempsey (loves the outdoors/perfectionist/horse lover) Milla Dempsey (bookworm)

River, widowed and possibly looking for love, is a passionate horse breeder and father who would like nothing more than to impart said passion for riding and horses on his daughter Milla. After all, there are competitions coming up! To his great disappointment Milla is all about books and hopes to one day become a published author. It's not that she doesn't like horses but she would much rather think up stories and spend her free time browsing the library.

Yona Kitegista (cheerful/outgoing/foodie)

Yona has run the Oak Barrel Bar as long as anyone can remember and she takes great pride in making the most popular nectar in town. If only there weren't those two youngsters, Marissa and Dani, who seem to have quite the touch at making new and exiting flavors of nectar. Her old friend and childhood sweetheart Don Gooseman is convinced hers is the best around but Yona isn't sure she won't have to change up her longstanding recipe to keep up with the competition!

Jaxen Tracey (creative/music lover)

Jaxen is Marissa's brother and the newest addition to the household, although Dani isn't too sure what to think of this, since things have been a little tense between her and Marissa lately. And now Jaxen is here, playing that music of his rather loudly! Marissa and Dani can tell that he is quite talented but his electro beats are a bit of a sore thumb among the blues lovers of Chestnut Ridge. All the while, Jaxen isn't so sure either what to make of his new surroundings. Will he eventually don the country fashion, get on that horse and become a blues lover?

Arabella von Rosenberg (intelligent/brave/friendly) Charley Bullhorn (rancher/romantic/familyoriented)

Why does Charley have a pink, sparkling unicorn, you wonder? No one knows, but he sure is proud of his beautiful, prize-winning Arabella. The two have travelled all over the country from shows to competitions but now Charley feels like it's time to settle down and find a permanent place to stay. Some may think he's a bit of a ladies man but actually he's a bit shy and secretly wants to have a big family. Can charming Arabella help him find the love of his life? And maybe Arabella too might find a new equestrian friend?

[the-blind-assassin-12]

March Madness Mega Masterlist: 2024

One more time, from the depths of my heart, THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who participated in this event. I threw it out there on a whim and never imagined it would catch on like it did. It was so flipping nice to see all the support and positivity. I hope the readers had a blast and that the writers enjoyed all the love and that it doesn’t stop just because the challenge is done. And I hope you’ll all be back for more madness next year! 💚

Individual recommendation lists below the cut:

@the-blind-assassin-12 part 1, part 2

@maggiemayhemnj part 1, part 2

@heareball part 1, part 2

@burntheedges part 1, part 2

@catchallfangirl part 1, part 2

@undercoverpena part 1, part 2

@sawymredfox part 1, part 2

@morallyinept part 1, part 2

@rulexofxnines part 1, part 2

@janaispunk part 1, part 2

@tinytinymenace week 1, week 2, week 3, week 4

@grogusmum list

@toomanytookas list

@djarinmuse list

@milla-frenchy list

@rhoorl list

@wannab-urs list

@bluestar22x list

@trulybetty list

@pascalpvnk list

@polkadotpenguin16 part 1, part 2

** if you don’t see your list here PLEASE tag me or message me so I can add it! (Even if you already did, because I am a disorganized mess of a human!)

[evolnoomym]

Wip Wednesday

Thank you for the tag @ace-turned-confused & @iamasaddie 💖

Here we have some bfd!Joel for @toxicanonymity ‘s Manspreading Challenge 👀

These lines are nothing final and can still change 😉

“Mister Miller let’s stop these silly games we both know what’s going on…you don’t like me and I couldn’t fucking care less.” You scoff and get off the counter slowly drawing closer to Joel “You hate me but Sarah loves me soooooo much and imagine how upset she’d be to know that her Daddy doesn’t want her to be happy. Wouldn’t that be a shame,huh?” You question with an enticing head tilt. Now you’re right in front of him, toe to toe with big bad imposing Joel Miller. You can feel the pulling in lower belly from being so close and most importantly smelling his manly musky scent. You gotta stay focused though if you want to win this game.

You lean in to whisper into his ear “Nothing, just letting you know that I eat guys like you for breakfast, I chew you up and spit you out. You’re not a threat for me old men.” You pull back and give him a sinister sickly smile.

Npt: @aurorawritestoescape @joelmillerisapunk @milla-frenchy @wintrwinchestr @penvisions @strang3lov3 @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @iamasaddie @msjarvis @syd-djarin @joelsgreenflannel @atinylittlepain @mermaidgirl30 @noxturnalpascal @the-mandawhor1an @joelsgreys @moonlitbirdie @joelslegalwhre @thundermartini @honeyedmiller @yorksgirl @vivian-pascal @almostfoxglove @guiltyasdave @studioghibelli @sawymredfox @luxurychristmaspudding @joelalorian @sin-djarin @morallyinept @punkshort @littlemisspascal @rivnedell @miss-oranje-disco-dancer @rivnedell @pedropeach @ozarkthedog @tonysopranosrobe @sixhours @beardedjoel @ovaryacted 💖