ID PROBABLY STILL ADORE U WITH UR HANDS AROUND MY NECK JOEL MILLER PLLEEASEEE make it toxic >:)
warnings : minors dni! smut, mean!joel, oral (joel! receiving), dumbification, choking, joel has a huge dick canon, gn reader
"say it again,"
pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader
genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut, minors dni
word count: 9k
summary: Joel, only now starting to feel the impending sense of loneliness, decides to listen to Tommy and sign up on an online streaming service called Ravish.
warnings: joel is bi in this, sex toys, paddles, nipple clamps, pillow humping, self-spanking, female/male masturbation, piv, dirty talking, possesive!joel, cum eating, oral (female receiving), size kink
additional warning: alright so there is a short moment in this where reader smacks herself with a paddle that has a heart-shaped hole and gets a heart mark on her skin, I don't use any descriptions (like calling it red or pink etc) but I'm also not oblivious enough to think everyone would get a mark when getting spanked so I wanted to let you know in case that would put you off and wouldn't want to read and that's completely fine!
a/n: this definitely ended up being longer then it needed it to be bfgbfg I want to take the anon who requested this, and the rest of you who chimed in and voted on the polls. I hope you all enjoy 💜 oh, also a special thanks to @missredherring who gave the idea of a more in-depth reason as to why Joel likes honeysuckle flowers 👀
i'm sorry but boyfriend's dad!joel who gets so cocky when you're aching and cock-drunk for him >>
you're irresistible, peach, did'ya know that? he would whisper just as he pushes up your skirts, pulling your panties to the side out of impatience, feral growl escaping his lips at the sight of you taut and dripping before him. you're lying on his bed, legs thrown haphazardly over his shoulder, his free hand pressed against your pretty little mouth.
you're running out of time. sooner or later, you know you'll be interrupted by your boyfriend, suggesting a movie, a date, or his primitive attempt of sex. joel knows it, too, and it pushes him to devour: completely, desperately, almost angrily at the thought of having to relinquish his possession of you so soon.
coitus is almost instantaneous. he does not stop, even after your cries reverberate against his open palm, locking his head between your legs. you wonder momentarily if this is what it feels like to be struck by lightning or sucked into a black hole. you hear him in the distance. that's it... that's it, doll. s'good for me.
you barely recover, barely clear the haze in your head and recoverthe clarity of your vision. you look down at him and your cheeks redden.
he's looking up at you, grinning like the devil himself. there's a beat of silence. a beat, and then he devours you once again.
Joel Miller x f!reader (pre outbreak)
Summary: Joel loves the Texas Longhorns and you're just needy (someone please make an edit of him wearing any Longhorns merch im begging)
Warnings: smut (duh), established relationship, mainly just cockwarming, with a daddy kink, and heavy on the dirty talk, cream pie, ass play, whatever else I'm forgetting, no use of Y/N
w/c: 3.3k
A/N: Here's something no one asked for! This definitely isn't my best work but I'm in a funk rn and it's the best I could do! Also hello daddy kink apparently! Oh! And I hit 1k followers a while ago so thank you for that!!! So many hugs and smoochies for everyone ilysm guys 😚🫶🥰❤️❤️❤️
There were two things that Joel loved wholeheartedly: you and the Texas Longhorns.
in which y/n smokes weed (sometimes) and she thinks her dealer is super cute, and harry always gives her a little extra because she’s sweet
* * * * * * *
Harry hated parties.
Admittedly, they were a third of his source of income, but unless it wasn’t a gathering exclusively composed of his close circle, he didn’t want anything to do with it. They were too loud and sticky, messy and smelly. Red solo-cups littered at every available corner, half filled with Coca-cola, vodka, and the occasional sad, cigarette butt. Scantily clad girls and ‘discreet’ boys that didn’t know how to read body language that clearly screamed ‘I’M NOT INTERESTED!’. It just all got his nerves because half the time he knew they were only using him to get reduced prices on the marijuana he spent ample time on growing.
NEW HARRY SONG LEAKED!?!??!?!? WHAT THE DUCK IS THIS WHAG THE FUCK
2021: Year in review ↳ prints
In which y/n tends to make a lot of spontaneous decisions when she’s drunk, and Harry’s a tattoo artist.
+++
On any average work day, Harry sees a lot of people come through his tattoo shop.
The majority of them are people who’ve gotten tattoos before – usually big burly men who come in to add a new tat to their sleeve, or teenage girls getting a secret butterfly on their side boob. There are the artsy people who come in for some detailed line work, and there are the silly drunk people who get a smiley face tattooed on their ass. Sometimes he’ll have someone come in for their first tattoo ever, shaking in their seat and tearing up before the tattoo gun even touches their skin.
Very rarely does he have someone come in for a piercing. But when they do, they’re usually older girls coming in for a helix or a belly button piercing.
Not five year old girls, wearing sparkly pink shoes and a sunflower printed dress.
“Hi!” Harry’s eyes flicker up to the lady standing behind the little kid. “Do you guys pierce ears here?”
“Erm… for her?” Harry says skeptically, pointing at the little girl. She can’t be older than five years old, standing with her thumb in her mouth and hiding behind the legs of the lady she’d come inside with. The lady seems young, probably the same age as him or a bit younger. He assumes the little girl must be her daughter.
“Yup!” the mom exclaims (or maybe a nanny, or aunt… Harry doesn’t really know. Or care.) “We wanna get her ears pierced for her birthday!” She looks down at the little girl with a glimmer in her eyes.
Harry contemplates saying no, he really does. He doesn’t like having kids in his shop— or anywhere near him if we’re being honest. They have snotty noses and sticky fingers and cry way too loud for him to be able to tolerate them. But this little girl seems relatively nice… she’s been quiet so far, and her nose is clean. Plus, the shop’s not busy today. Even if she did start crying, she wouldn’t scare any customers away. So he decides to be nice – just this one time.
Nana Studioz Knitz “Playdate” 01Capsule
A/N: single dad harry is finally here! it took me sooo long to finish this, but its finally done! so i hope you'll like it!
WORD COUNT: 16k
WARNING: sexual content, divorce
SUMMARY: Harry has been crushing on the mother of her daughter's classmate and now that she has divorced, a bake sale finally brings them together.
Harlow is excitedly humming along to the music that’s flowing from the radio, her legs dangling from the seat, her curly ponytail bouncing with every move of her head as she follows the beat perfectly. Her daddy keeps glancing back at her through the mirror, his smile stretching wider and wider every time she gets more into the song, turning the ride to school into her own private concert.
The little girl’s love for music is no surprise, seeing that her dad is a musician. Harry introduced her to the magical world of music way before she was even born. When she was a baby, there were only two things that could calm her down and end any tantrum she threw: her daddy’s singing and Stevie Nicks’ singing. All tears dried up in an instant as soon as she heard her favorite songs.
me and the mutuals going into s4 knowing that Tom and Shiv are both ringless, miserable, and filled with aching sorrow + longing… !!!
ik your saying no requests, i just really want to see your take on HSLOTRRY for this photo
prompt: hus outfit inspires yn to want to do something a little different
warnings: smut, minors dni 18+
if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it! (this is what motivates me to continue writing)!
i write for FREE - I am also trying to steer away from paetron so everyone can have access my stories - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.
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YN was horny.
Can you blame her?
Her husband looked downright obscene in his denim vest and trousers, the hard work in the gym reflected on his abdominals and his biceps.
YN wanted to roleplay tonight.
They didn’t do it much, they usually weren’t patient enough for it but tonight, in that outfit, she really wanted to play.
She wanted to initiate it and so she scribbled a note on a scrap piece of paper and about half way through the set, YN asks one of the security to deliver it to the stage. *** ***
It takes a few minutes but Harry finally reaches down for the paper, taking it with him to where his water bottle is, taking a sip as he unravels it.
hiiii!
not sure if you’re single but if you’re looking for fun after the show, meet me at the bar at the hotel you’re staying at. im only in town for tonight :)
x
Harry’s brow furrows for a second, rereading it but then it clicks - his eyes dart over to his wife as she gives him a coy smirk.
He was totally into it.
hey can you write one where Harry is traveling on a regular flight instead of a private one to go to a show, and he sits next to y/n and they start talking, and then he takes her to the bathroom and fucks with her there.
That’s Harry fucking Styles.
You think.
You’re almost positive. You can’t exactly see his face. Obscured by dark (although incredibly expensive looking) sunglasses.
His sweatshirt is large. Large enough to fall to his wrists, effectively hiding any skin, and making it nearly impossible to distinguish him by his tattoos.
He doesn’t…look famous. Although you guess that’s a pretty rude assumption to make. Anybody can look famous.
But…this is main class. Harry Styles would never be caught dead in main class…right?
And maybe it’s not about his ego. Maybe he simply wanted to switch things up. Or help the environment? You’re not entirely sure his reasoning (after all, you’re not the rich popstar slash model slash actor) but you are almost ninety-nine percent sure that this is him sitting beside you.
Well, one seat away.
Thankfully, he was the only other person in your row, and when booking your ticket, you both apparently chose to keep an empty seat between you.
Which is almost a necessity, just in case you accidentally get stuck next to a sneezer, or a baby, or one of those old guys who watches porn when he thinks nobody is looking.
You hadn’t noticed him when he sat down. Were already pulling out your book and continuing to the next chapter.
You had barely offered a glance when the stewardess offered bottles of water and some chips. You had declined. He had accepted the water.
Which hadn’t been all that exciting before, but now you can’t help but wonder if it’s for his throat.
Is he on tour right now? Or maybe visiting family? A girlfriend? Is he dating anyone?
You’re a bit embarrassed by your lack of knowledge, but in your defense, he hadn’t really been all that exciting to you growing up. You’d heard a song or two. Knew he sang about fucking fruits or something. But beyond that, not much else.
Now, you regret not having his poster taped to your wall, because maybe if you had, you’d have a better chance of confirming your suspicion.
But, after a few minutes, you realize you’re probably startling the potentially famous or potentially average man beside you and return your focus to your book.
A minute or two goes by. You’ve already forgotten about the mysterious stranger. So engrossed in the plot on the page that you don’t notice his figure lean a bit closer.
“S’good, right?”
You jump, the paperback flying from your grasp before it falls into your lap, your chest heaving and cheeks burning bright red. “Shit—”
“Fuck, sorry—” He leans back, palms midair in surrender. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“No, it’s fine.” Your eyes briefly shut as your hand moves to your chest. “It’s fine, I…I didn’t like that chapter anyway.”
A smile trickles across his lips. “It’s a good book, though, yeah?”
You nod, doing your best not to stare when you realize the lilt in his voice is an accent. And Harry is English, right? Fuck, you can’t remember. Maybe he’s the Irish one. Or the one with a baby. Wait, which one had the baby? Don’t they all have babies now? “Yeah, I like…the pace. The pace is good. And Jeremy. He’s fun.”
“Oh, I fucking love Jeremy.” The stranger’s grin widens and next thing you know, he’s reaching for the rim of his sunglasses.
Oh shit.
It really is him.
You think.
Oh, fuck, don’t stare.
“Yeah, he’s…I think I like him better than Luther,” you force yourself to reply, nodding in agreement. “Not as annoying.”
“Right.” Harry places his elbows on the armrest and leans forward, now at least two inches closer. “No, Luther is such a fucking ass, I don’t know how she puts up with it.”
“Well, she shouldn’t, right?” You turn to him, a bit surprised he shares your opinion. “Like…Jeremy is the clear choice. But she won’t give him a chance cause he’s not as tortured as Luthor and his precious daddy issues.”
He laughs at the mock in your tone, reaching up to run a hand through his curls as the hoodie is pushed off his head to reveal his hair.
Oh, that’s totally fucking him. You’d know Harry Styles’s hairstyle anywhere.
And the rings. You feel yourself physically swallow at the sight of the large medallions adorning his knuckles.
Oh, he’s got great fucking hands. Has he always had such long fucking fingers? Okay, maybe you get it now, maybe you get why everyone is so fucking obsessed with this oddly attractive—
“Exactly, which is the point, I guess,” he’s replying, and your eyes flicker back to his. “S’all the fucking angst.”
“I mean, sure…but they could also just fuck and get it over with.”
He laughs. Loudly. Loud enough that at least three people look over and your ego swells with pride. “Okay, that’s…that’s fair.”
“Exactly. I’m sure it would be great,” you continue, before biting at your lip coyly. “You know…I bet it even tastes like strawberries.”
His expression drops, and for a moment, you’re mortified because you had meant to make a joke and lighten the mood, but maybe he thought you didn’t know who he was. Maybe he was relieved to sit next to someone so oblivious.
And now you’ve blown it and he’s gonna change seats and you really fucked up your one chance because of course you did and—
“Oh, very fucking funny.” A smirk. A rather amused one. “Mhm. Yes, I bet it does.”
Thank fucking God. “Yeah. Maybe some cherries, too.”
“Uh huh.” His head shakes, fingers reaching up to pull at this lip to disguise the smile. “Probably kiwis.”
“Ooo, or peaches! Oh no wait, that’s not you. That’s the other guy.”
The smile breaks free. “Wow. No, I was flattered, and then you ruined it.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault he snagged it before you did,” you argue, hands raising in submission.
“He did not snag it—”
“No, he snagged it. Might have even done it better than you.”
His brow raises and you fight the giddy grin. “Oh, is that right?”
“Yeah.”
He leans in a bit closer. “I’ll give you one chance to apologize and take it back.”
“Okay, or…hear me out…no.”
A soft chuckle. “Funny.”
“Thanks, I thought so,” you reply, shrugging casually before the conversation comes to a lull and you decide you better quit while you’re ahead. You reach for the book on your lap, thumbing through the pages softly before glancing at him and shaking it in the air excitedly. “Well…they’re about to fuck, so…fingers crossed.”
“Amazing.”
“Yeah!” Nope, too excited. Reel it in. “Uh…I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Yeah,” he agrees before his voice softens. “Or…hear me out…we could share?”
Your heart leaps to your throat as your focus leaves the page to land on him. “Oh?”
“Yeah, I just…fucking forgot my copy,” he stammers, motioning towards the bag at his feet. “And my phone doesn’t have any books…and, the movies here are shit, so I figured…but it’s fine, I can just—”
“No, I’m happy to share.” You open the book a bit wider as a gesture of invitation.
He seems pleased as he unclicks his belt and slides into the seat beside you, now incredibly closer, and oh fuck he smells so good.
You figured he might, but you hadn’t been prepared for the way your mouth nearly drools as the cologne and hair products waft toward you.
Oh, this was not a good idea.
Who the fuck smells good on a plane, anyway? That’s the whole point of flying middle class is that you're gross and smelly and sweaty and hot and—
His fingers reach for the page, pinching them carefully as his eyes move to yours. “Done?”
Oh, you’re far from done.
You force a mute nod, leaning back as if offering room to turn the page.
His arm brushes your shoulder as he flips to the next chapter and despite your best efforts, you suck in a sharp gasp.
And the fucker has the nerve to smirk. “Sorry.”
You shake your head fervently. “S’fine.”
Pull it together, dipshit. Just because he smells like sex on a fucking stick doesn’t mean you can—
“You all right?” He’s still watching, waiting for you to either admit you’re in heat or that you’re just really into the story.
Truthfully, it’s a bit of both.
“Yeah, it’s just…the chapter,” you murmur, nodding towards the book. “Kind of awkward to read with someone else.”
He hums, looking toward the word cock prominently displayed on the page. “Yeah, maybe. Probably be worse if it wasn’t so fucking vanilla.”
You blink. “Oh…is it?”
Truthfully, you’d thought the same thing, but you’re surprised he feels the same.
A nonchalant shrug. “Yeah, like…if he would just slow down, y’know? Take his time with her. Really appreciate her.”
Oh fuck.
“Yeah.” A dry swallow. Your tongue suddenly numb. “Uh, yeah. That’d be…yeah. He should…yeah.”
His lips pull together coyly. “Could slide his hand up the inside of her thigh. Until she’s begging him to touch her. Maybe lean in to kiss her then pull away just before.”
Oh, he’s such a fucking sadist—
“Watch her clench her pretty, little thighs together.” His voice has dropped to a low purr, so deep, you just about fall into it. “Until she’s crying for him. Bet she’s a good crier.”
You force your eyes back down to the page before clearing your throat. “Yeah, well…knowing Luther, that won’t happen.”
You’re attempting to soothe the ache between your legs, the burn of your cheeks as you use humor to force him off the topic.
“No, probably not,” he agrees before his hand slips over the armrest. Just dangles there. Close enough that the tips of his fingers graze your thigh.
And you jolt. Looking down at the fleeting touch with near astonishment. So utterly confused and aroused that you’re afraid you’ll pull a muscle from clenching so hard.
“Sorry, just…getting comfy,” he apologizes, the swing in his tone provocative.
“Oh, are you?” Your response is more flippant, ready to end his game before it can even begin. “Easy, Stranger.”
His head cocks to the side as his eyes sparkle with what looks to be admiration. “Stranger, hm?”
“Well…technically, we’ve never been introduced,” you argue, leaning toward the wall of the plane in an attempt to lessen the hex he has you in. “So, until then…Stranger it is.”
His tongue slips out to wet his lips. “Maybe I’ve got a better idea.”
“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”
His pointer finger raises into the air between you as he motions you closer.
And despite the precarious ask, you oblige, returning to your spot and turning your head so he has access to your ear.
Then, “Maybe I’ll take you to that bathroom and teach you my name. Till you’re crying as you say it. Till you’re screaming it as I come inside you. Till this whole fucking plane knows what my name is.”
You wish you had more control over the way your legs immediately pulled together, but you don’t, and he clocks it like a hawk.
The heat is crawling up your neck as you close the book and set it onto the floor beside you.
You’re not sure if he’s simply playing with you until you cave, if this is some sort of sick game he likes to play to pass the time instead of watching a movie like a normal person, or if he truly means it.
But regardless of his true intentions, you stand. You stand and brush past him as you head for the aisle, watching as his expression drops into one of confusion and concern.
“Where are you going?” he calls right as you make it to the edge of the seat.
You turn, bracing your hands on the armrest as you lean closer, now right in his face. “You’ve got five minutes, Stranger. Don’t be late.”
You watch the smile fall from his lips as his pupils practically double in size and if you were worried that he wasn’t as aroused as you are, that doubt is now wiped from your mind.
Poor thing looks ready to keel over and as you walk back toward the small restroom, you can’t resist the proud look forming on your face.
And about three and a half minutes later, there’s a knock on the lavatory door.
“Hi, Stranger.”
(I edged you, sorry, don't be mad!!)
A pit stop to buc-ees has to be on the list for Harry as he goes to texas.
“Mmm…are we there yet?” You grumbled waking up to the sound of your boyfriend dressing at the end of the bed. He pulled a pair of blue shorts on with a packers hoodie.
“No baby, just stopping at a gas station to get food and use the restroom. Coming in?” He asks pulling on his famous fisherman hat. You sat up on the bed, nodding your head. Harry smiled at your adorable scrunched up face as you rubbed the crust out of your eyes.
He brushed his teeth while you put on one of your hoodies and shorts. He waited for you by the bus door as your brushed your teeth and made yourself somewhat presentable. Turning to him you gave him a cheeky smile to signal that you were ready to go.
“Ready princess?”
Ready was an understatement. When you think of pit stops you think of small dinky gas stations not full blown gas station malls.
“Buc-ees”
The bright red sign yelled at you as you walked hand in hand with your love. Your eyes were wide in shock looking at the large grills for sale outside of the store and the surplus of gas pumps that lined the store.
“Holy crap, Harry!” You whisper shouted trying to not disturb the other shoppers around you. Your nose was blessed with the smells of yummy baked goods and fresh grilled pork and bbq. Half of the store was Buc-ee’s merch including tshirts, bathing suits, stickers, and others, whereas the other half was the grocery part.
Holding onto Harry’s arm, you yanked him to the T-shirts gasping at all of the colors, sizes, and designs. Grabbing a large hot pink T-shirt with the beaver adorning the front.
“I want, Harry.” You said in admiration. Harry grabbed the shirt from you telling you to grab him a matching white one. You gave him a big smile before grabbing the shirt.
You both checked out the yummy food, Harry smelling from afar because of his pescatarian diet. You picked out a pulled pork sandwich. Harry found himself picking up a small basket for the things you were finding.
His heart swelled at how excited you were. This is why he brought you on tour. He wanted to experience all of these fun things with you, the love of his life. He wanted you to enjoy the small things like fancy gas stations while also enjoying lavish hotels and tourism spots.
Harry helped you pick out some baked treats. Some treats ranging from Mexican baked goodies to the normal American goodies you can buy anywhere. He didn’t miss the way you sneaked a homemade rice crispy treat bar into the cart. Harry found a package salad to eat along with an assorted pack of trail mix.
Before checking out, your eyes caught the title “beaver nuggets.” Straying away from the long line, you picked up the bag curious as to what beaver nuggets were.
“Bubby look!” Harry looked up from his phone to look at you. Raising his eyebrows, he nodded to acknowledge you.
“Beaver nuggets.” You raised the bag with an excited grin. Harry laughed at your childlike manner.
“What are beaver nuggets?”
“It looks like corn puffs or something but they’re sweet. Get?”
“Yeah we can share them with the rest of the band with the rest of our treats.”
“Yay!”
You tried paying for all of the things but Harry knocked you to the side with his hip muttering for you to go away.
Hands full of stuff, you both trampled onto the bus quickly to avoid any attention. You stripped of your shirt immediately as Harry sat on the couch of the bus. Harry’s eyes went wide at the sight of your braless chest, a blush burning his cheeks.
“Hey!” You snapped jokingly. You threw your hands out making the grabbing motion. Harry shook his head confused still in a trance. “My shirt silly!”
“Oh…yeah. Maybe I’ll hold onto this for a moment.” He murmured clutching the shirt to his chest still staring hard like a teenage boy. “…But I won’t because we have a full day ahead of us.”
You pulled the shirt in squealing at how cute it was. Harry changed into his shirt making you smile even more.
“Harry, baby?”
“Yes.” He replied
“We are ready to take on Texas.”
Taglist:
CUTE!!!!
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empty parks and a shaky photo booth
2.7K
pure smut!
hii! me and anna ( @for-fucks-sake-h ) wrote this in the span of almost 3 days and i couldn’t ask for anyone better than her because her writing skills are so amazing!! i hope you all like it! <3
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“What if we get caught?”
“We’re not stealing anything love,” he chuckled as he led you across the parking lot. His fingers were warmly interlocked with yours. The cool summer nights air licked across your skin, a shiver running down your body. You pulled Harry’s borrowed camel colored cardigan back up from where it slipped off your shoulder. The softness on your skin and his cologne lingering on the fabric warmed you just as much as the extra layer.
I am FINALLY done with this. Hope you guys enjoy it, please let me know if you do, your comments are very much appreciated. Lots of love, B xx
Red.
It’s all he can see when he looks at you. It’s the color that paints your lips and it’s the only thing he’s been able to think about all night long.
When he picked you up earlier tonight, on your way to a dinner with a group of friends, his eyes had zoomed in on your lips the second you opened the car door to greet him - while you stepped inside and leaned in to say hello, placing a chaste and pert kiss on his cheek, his eyes followed your lips as you came closer.
“What color is that? Crimson? Bright red?” Is what he thinks, the shades of it swirling in his mind. He doesn’t know and he’s tempted to ask you but to do that was to show he’s been paying more attention to you than he’s got the right to and maybe it’d give you the wrong impression - he’s not interested in your lipstick but more on the way the color makes your lips look full and incredibly inviting.
Biting onto his bottom lip after greeting you quickly, his eyes fleet to his rear view mirror, spotting the patch of skin close to his jaw where you had placed your kiss - a lipstick mark remains, the shape of your lips stamped onto his skin in a bright shade of red.
The sight gave him goose bumps and he couldn’t explain why, but when you leaned forward on his front seat, the visor pulled down so you could look in the mirror and make sure your lipstick was not smudged, Harry felt his stomach sink - images of you on your knees, eyes hazy and lips swollen while you suck on his cock with greedy, swollen and red painted lips, leaving a stain on his length, invaded his mind without his permission and he feels his cock twitch in his pants, heat rising underneath his skin.
