Oh My Good God Your Writing Is Absolutely Fabulousssss 🤤 The Way You Write About Joel And His Baby

This has so much potential with SugarDaddy!Joel Miller

pretty girl reader who’s actually the sweetest person ever; unfortunately, no matter how kind you are, you’re still a flat broke college student with a heart bigger than your wallet. when your roommate keeps telling you to “use your face card to get us out of this shithole”, you tell her you can’t! she’s suggesting that you go on dating apps and plug your venmo so random men will send you money because they think you’re hot. you (unfortunately for her) have morals, so you think that’s the wrong thing to do. when the after school center you volunteer at doesn’t have enough funding to sponsor gifts for the kids, you finally give in and make the dating profile. you’re clear that the money is only to buy children’s gifts + you’re even willing to prove it by sending receipts of all the items you’ve bought with what you’re calling “donations”

enter in character. rich, hot character who’s focused on work but his best friend makes him a profile. he’s curious to see how his friend set it up and after getting the login info, he finds himself scrolling on the app, bored out of his mind. before he deletes it for good, deeming the app and the five minutes he spent on it a terrible waste of time, he lands on your profile. you’re beautiful, yes, but you’re… collecting money to buy gifts?

intrigued, he messages you. you message him back. you’re earnest and enthusiastic and even through a screen, he can tell: you’re a good person. you’re a genuine person. he doesn’t meet many people like that nowadays. so even after christmas is over and you’ve bought all the gifts, he still finds himself reaching out to you. you have a bright, overly optimistic perspective on everything, and he finds it endearing. he finds everything about you endearing.

just !!! him basically begging you to let him be your sugar daddy (without him ever explicitly using that phrase😭) man who wants to provide x oblivious reader who wouldn’t even take his money without at least doing something in return for him

Hello! I write for several fandoms (the main ones being The Last of Us, Call of Duty, Outer Banks, and Marvel). I’m open to writing smut, fluff, angst, whatever! More details about who I write for can be found on my profile under Rules and Fandoms/Character List!

Call for Writers Who Want Fic Requests

Fanfiction writers, if you're taking requests and want to receive more of them, please reblog or comment with the characters you write, whether you write smut, whether you write dark, and a link to your rules if you have them. Any fandom!

Why? To connect potential fic requesters with you. 🖤

No hidden motive - I get inquiries about requests and idk where to refer them when mine are closed. Will link this on pinned post.

Adults only, please.

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edit: I unblazed this in case the blaze caused an issue with comments showing up 😐 sorry if yours didn't show up, please try a reblog. hellsite smh

𝔹𝕒𝕞𝕓𝕚'𝕤 𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘

Joel Miller

Types of Kisses

Joel soothes your insecurities

Joel comforts you when you’re sick

Joel makes it up to you when you’re jealous

Useless Part 1, Part 2 coming soon!

Kisses After Midnight

Tainted Prayers Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3

Bruce Wayne

Bruce picks out your nails

This is so Bruce Wayne coded ♡

*takes you on a shopping spree so I can rub your pussy and edge you in every single change room*

Kisses After Midnight

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Smut

Summary: Joel gets back from a long patrol in the middle of the night. It’s clear that his baby missed him very much.

Notes: smut, sub!reader, soft!dom!joel, praise, dirty talk, unprotected piv, Joel calls reader every pet name in the book, teasing, slight orgasm denial, dd/lg vibes sorta (but no use of ‘daddy’), let’s play a game called how many times can the author use the word ‘sweet’ in one fic

For it being the end of the world, you and Joel had a pretty good life. He’d been in Jackson for about eight months—eight months in which he gave his heart to the sweetest little thing to ever walk the earth.

Your very existence seemed to be a mockery of the times you lived in. You were soft and sweet, edges not yet roughed. He didn’t know how you’d gone so long staying as doe-eyed as you did—hell, he didn’t know how you ended up with him. He felt far too…jaded. Far too rough to be with someone so beautiful and untainted.

And yet, you were drawn to him. He still remembered the first day you knocked on his door, asking in your honey-sweet voice, I told Maria I’d give you a tour of the town. Is that alright, Mr. Miller? Oh, he’d just about died then.

Things only took off from there. Something would break in your house, and he’d be called over to fix it. Then you would bring him some bread you baked as a thank you, and then he’d say, Well this is too nice, darlin.’ Why don’t you let me return the favor by putting some shelves up in your living room? He’d seen the piles of books at your bedside—your love of reading deserved to be displayed.

Somewhere along the way, you and Joel just…fit. Something clicked, and soon he was moving into your pretty little house, placing kisses to your pretty little lips, waking up pressed against pretty little you.

Yes, for the end of the world, you and Joel were doing quite nicely.

Except on long patrol days, that is. Oh, Joel knew how much you hated it. Now that you’d gotten used to sleeping in Joel’s arms you didn’t want to give it up, not even for a single night.

But Joel had a part to play in the community—he couldn’t stop working, no matter how much he wished he could spend all his time with you. He’d press kisses to your quivering bottom lip, murmuring reassurances that he would be back the very next night.

Which brought him to now. He’d spent a day and a half out in the cold with Tommy scanning for Clickers, thinking about his princess the entire time ice and wind battered his face. Finally, after a day and a half without seeing you, he was shaking the snow off his jacket and stepping inside your shared home.

Joel was quiet as he took off his shoes and shed his outer layers before heading upstairs. Once inside your room he stripped down to his cotton t-shirt and boxers, then slid under the covers beside you. He wrapped his large arm around your body, pulling you into him and was delighted to find you were wearing nothing but one of his shirts. He nuzzled the top of your head with his nose, then placed a kiss in your hair. “Hey there, sleepyhead.”

You let out a soft yawn, still groggy and half-asleep. “Hm?”

He chuckled lightly and kissed your cheek. “Wake up, pretty baby.” Normally Joel would never wake you up in the middle of the night, but you had explicitly asked him to do so every time he got back from a long patrol. He still remembered your teary eyes the morning after the one time he’d tried to let you sleep and just greet you in the morning. He’d never tried again after that.

Now you began to really stir, blinking your eyes as you looked up at him with a soft, sleepy pout that he wanted to kiss. However, it melted away when your eyes grew a little more alert. “Joel?”

He brushed the hair from your face. “Mhmm. I’m home,” he whispered before kissing you soundly on the mouth. He pulled away just slightly, eyes dancing over your face. “I missed my gorgeous girl’s eyes…and those lips, especially.”

You leaned up to plant another firm kiss to his mouth before holding to him, nuzzling your face into his neck, letting out a soft breath of something almost like relief.

He kept you pressed to the warmth of his body, “Was my little girl lonely ‘round here?” he murmured, rubbing your back gently.

You nodded into his neck. “Missed you.”

He chuckled, kissing your neck, holding you close. “I’m right here now.” His sweet thing. His nose brushed along your jaw and neck, taking in your scent. “Let me ease that pretty little mind a bit, hm?”

Your breath hitched and you nodded, eyes getting a little more glossy…

“C’mere, babygirl…” he whispered, cradling the back of your head to pull your lips to his. Joel’s hands roamed over the curves of your body, mapping out each and every familiar piece of you, his palms warm and strong against your skin. He nibbled at your bottom lip until you parted your mouth in a gasp to allow his tongue to slip inside.

Joel soon broke the kiss, panting softly before he started trailing his lips down your throat and collarbone, nibbling and sucking as he went. “Missed that pretty little voice,” he murmured in that low voice of his. “Can you use it again for me sweetheart?” Joel knew how you got when he spoke to you like this. He knew you would be putty beneath him in no time.

You nodded, letting out a strained, “Mhmm.”

Joel pressed your back to the mattress so you were looking up at him. “Use your words, babygirl,” he reminded, dipping to kiss up your throat again. “Or do I need to make you?” His teeth caught on the sensitive skin below your jaw.

You gasped. “I-I can use ‘em.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, pulling away to look at your face, studying your expression. His fingertips brushed the edge of your neckline. “Can I take all this off, baby?”

You nodded, eyes big and wide. “Yes Joel, please.”

He let out a short, breathy chuckle. “So polite.” With that he got to work, pulling the shirt over your head with one swift tug, leaving you bare beneath him. He looked you over greedily, tracing his hands over your sides, squeezing your thighs, making you squirm. “Oh, sweetheart,” he groaned, eyes falling over your body. “Look at my sweet baby.”

You let out a soft whine of impatience, but Joel cut you off. “Ah—you gonna be a good girl?” He knew you would be. You always were. He just liked hearing it from your strawberry lips.

You nodded, eyes doe-like. “Yes, promise!”

He smiled. “Always listen so well for me.” He sat up a little to remove his own shirt and throw it to the floor, but swiftly leaned back down to kiss you deeply. You tasted like honey on his tongue and his hands slipped along your sides to rest on your hips, locking you in place.

You uselessly tried to buck against his strong hold, trying to press the apex of your thighs closer to his, but he was having none of it. He chuckled. “Needy girl…always gotta have me ‘s close as possible, hm? So greedy, baby.” His sentence was punctuated by a nip to your neck.

“Jus’ missed you.”

“I know darlin’, I know.” Such a soft, sweet voice you had. He met your big, glassy eyes as his fingertips dragged along your neck….your collarbone…until he grasped one of your breasts with his large hand.

He silenced your gasp with his kisses. His sweet girl—so sensitive, you were. You whimpered into his mouth as he brushed his thumb over the peak of your breast.

How had he been apart from you so long?

You were aching. Joel always likes taking his time with you, you knew that, but sometimes all you wanted him to do was pin you down and ravish you instead of playing you like his favorite instrument, stringing his fingers along each little spot that would make you sing….

Joel’s warm mouth closed around your breast and you let out another soft whimper as he flicked his tongue over the peak. Your hands were in his hair, threading through the salt-and-pepper curls while his tongue and teeth were at work.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Joel,” you whined, voice quivering.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’m gonna give you what you need.” His fingertips dragged down the center of your tummy, drifting farther and farther below…

“Oh,” Joel cooed, and you moaned softly as his fingers dipped into your wetness. “You’re so ready for me, sweetheart.”

You felt like you could cry from the need, the white hot flames that needed to be fanned and then extinguished. “Joel—”

“I’ll take care of you, darlin’. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

His thumb found purchase on your bundle of nerves and you keened, arching your back, trying to get closer closer closer while he stoked the fire between your legs. He held you the whole time, murmuring how beautiful you were, how pretty your little voice was, how good you were being for him.

You could feel yourself slowly unraveling; the thread of your very being was fraying, coming apart as you climbed higher, higher—

He removed his hand.

Oh, you whined at that, your climax being ripped away so cruelly and carelessly. “No, no, Joel I—”

“Shh, shh baby.” He quieted your protests with a kiss. “I just had to get you ready for me—want you to finish around my cock.”

His bluntness made you squirm, and you’d been so lost in your pleasure that you hadn’t realized you could feel his hardness against your hip, thick and heavy.

Joel shucked down his boxers and tossed them to the side while you lay there waiting, aching for that fullness you knew so well—

You squealed as he tapped the wet tip of his length against the bud atop your slit.

He chuckled and silenced your high-pitched noises with gentle shushing. “I gotcha, honey,” he murmured.

Then he slid inside.

Joel let out a soft groan next to your ear as he fully sheathed himself within your wetness. “So tight for me baby—“ He cut off with another grunt, sliding out before pushing right back in.

He was so big, his strong arms holding you as he rocked his hips, filling you up, up, up until you swear you could feel him in your tummy. Your walls clenched against him, breath hitching with every thrust.

“My baby,” he crooned, ducking his head to kiss along your neck and shower you with praises as he held you to him. “My sweet babygirl. Missed you so much out on the trail, thought about your pretty little pussy the whole time—”

Your head fell back with a gasp as the tip of Joel’s hardness tickled that spot deep inside that had your toes curling.

He chuckled. “Is that the spot, baby?” He pointedly thrust again, making you moan, and grinned knowingly. “Oh, I think it is, hm?” He picked up his pace again, hitting that spot over and over and over.

You felt something start to coil in your lower belly, something familiar and white-hot. Joel reached down to rub circles into your clit, which made you let out a high-pitched whimper and clench around his length.

You were babbling mindlessly, thoughts empty save for him and how good he was making you feel. “Joel, Joel, I—oh please—I need—”

“I know what you need babygirl.” His teeth caught on your earlobe as he kept his pace. “Can feel—fuck—can feel you clamping down on me. You gonna finish for me already?”

You nodded, your lips parted in a silent gasp of need, eyes big and wide as you whined out a desperate, “Mhmm!”

You bucked your hips into his, and this time when you felt your legs tighten, your breath fail, your tummy coil, Joel murmured hushed affirmatives you your jaw and neck and ear—

You cried out as you fell over the edge. Your back arched, your muscles seized, and your vision blurred with overwhelmed tears as you felt the warmth of Joel finishing inside you soon after.

“That’s it sweetie—fuck, so good for me, such a good girl falling apart on my cock, taking me so well—”

You were letting out desperate needy noises, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as the crackling heat lingered.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, claiming your lips, swallowing your whines with his mouth. “You did so good baby, so good….look at you, my pretty girl, my baby….”

Your body went lax, melting against him, each coo and murmur bringing you deeper under.

“That’s it…I’ve gotcha…” Joel maneuvered you as if you were light as a feather so that you were laying side by side, still connected, him still thick and warm inside of you.

Completely blissed out, you nuzzled into his chest, relishing in the feeling of his strong arms around you. Your eyes drooped.

“Tired already, babygirl?”

“Mmm.”

Joel hummed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s okay, darlin’. Just fall back to sleep. I’ll be holdin’ you the whole night through.”

Soon the fog overtook your mind completely and you drifted off, comforted by the knowledge that your Joel was home again.

Shhh honey, it’s alright. I love that groggy voice you make when you’re sleepy, you’ve been moaning in it for the last few minutes. Hey calm down, just relax for me, ok baby? I’m going slow, just how you like it. Just stay calm and take it, then we can go right back to sleep, ok?

Tainted Prayers Pt. 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Asylum AU

← PART TWO

Notes: Religious themes, cultists, topics may be sensitive to readers

Your name.

It had been swirling around his head for days—a beautiful collection of syllables that seemed to sing their own little song when they rolled off Joel’s tongue.

That first day with you hadn’t yielded much progress. In fact, the days afterwards hadn’t really either. It was the same each day—he’d enter your tiny room and sit in the chair across from your bed. He’d ask you simple questions: How are you doin’? Was lunch okay today? Did you sleep alright?

You’d answer them in short little sentences, as if terrified your voice would be stolen should you use it too much. You said you were fine—you always did, but even though your answer to his last question would be a little hum and then a nod, the evidence was plain on your face. Your little cheeks looked hollow, your hair tousled, your eyes drooping.

The only time you seemed to relax was when he read to you, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because there was no pressure for you to respond and you were able to simply sit there. Maybe you enjoyed listening to God’s word. Maybe it was because you liked the way his voice sounded. He wouldn’t have given any thought to that last one usually, but….well, it was the very topic that prompted you to use your darling voice in one of your sessions with him.

Joel still remembered the surprise he felt when, out of nowhere, you’d spoken up in the middle of his reading.

“Do you always talk like that?” you had asked in a voice so sweet it made Joel want to clutch his chest.

He replied, “Talk like what?”

“Talk with that voice,” you’d said. “You say things like ‘yer’ instead of ‘your,’ or ‘beginnin’’ instead of ‘beginning.’” You tried to mimic his way of speaking as best you could.

He cocked his head. “Do I really sound like that?” He hadn’t thought his accent was that thick. Maybe it was just that way when he got lost in reading.

And then—God help him—you smiled. It was a shy little one, barely even there, but it was a smile nonetheless. “No, you don’t sound exactly like that—I’m bad at copying it. But…it’s similar.”

Joel couldn’t help the grin that had split his face. “I was raised in Texas on my grandfather’s farm,” he explained.

Your eyes seemed to brighten. “A farm?”

Joel nodded. “You ever been to one before?”

You shook your head.

“Well, s’not as exciting as it sounds—it’s pretty dirty. And the horse stables smell even worse.”

You sat up a little. “Horses?”

Joel paused, his eyes flicking over the way your hands had stopped fidgeting. “Yes,” he said slowly. “We had four of ‘em.”

“What were their names?”

“Well, one of ‘em was named Rocky.”

You grinned. “That’s adorable.”

“Short for Rocket Launcher.”

You blinked, then started giggling. If that wasn’t the most angelic sound he’d ever heard…

“Seriously?” You asked, the dimple in your left cheek showing. “Don’t tell me you were the one who named him.”

Joel chuckled. “M’afraid the mind of an eight-year-old boy isn’t all that creative.”

You laughed again, a sound like tinkling bells. Joel wanted to bottle up that laugh and hold it close to his chest, tucked beneath his ribcage and right next to his heart where it would be safe.

“Did you ride them a lot?” You asked. “The horses?”

Joel shrugged. “Every once in awhile. Usually there wasn’t time—too much to be done around the farm. My grandfather was very much a ‘work hard so you can work harder,’ sort of man.”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

A corner of Joel’s mouth twitched up. “To him it was.”

“Well then you must have been bored out of your mind. I know I would have been.”

Joel shook his head. “No, it wouldn’t have been the same for you. I’d’ve made sure that your only job would be to sit there and look pretty.”

Something changed in your gaze then—your pupils got a little wide, your cheeks a little pink. Joel watched as the flush bloomed on your skin. The sight of it made him ache.

Then you looked down and fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. “Well, it doesn’t matter,” you whispered. “I won’t be visiting your farm anytime soon.”

That had been a few days ago, and your words had stuck with him. It made something dark and ugly rise up in him, something he had to shove back down and shut away in a box with seven locks. It was blasphemous. Doubting God was sinful.

And yet the question remained.

How could you be a Ten?

It didn’t make any sense. You were just about the sweetest little thing Joel had ever laid eyes on. You looked like you belonged in a white and pink lace dress with your hair pulled back with a butterfly clip, watering strawberries in a garden in the afternoon sunlight.

Surely your blood couldn’t be anything darker than the lightest pink. Surely it couldn’t.

And yet your file said it was. There was no arguing there. But if that were true, if a person as sweet-hearted as you had blood that reflected the exact opposite, then that would mean the Blood Scale system was a sham.

That was a dangerous train of thought, one that made Joel feel as though the ground was crumbling beneath his very feet. He tended to stay away from that part of his mind.

And yet sometimes late at night the question repeated, swirling in his brain so fast it made him dizzy.

How could you be a Ten?

You weren’t alive on Outbreak Day. By the time you were born, enough time had passed since then that the Blood Scale had already been widely recognized across the world. You were four when you saw your first commercial on TV: a regular public service announcement reminding to ‘call this number if you or your family have or have thought to have had an encounter with a Ten.’

By the time you were learning about it in school, the history was already common knowledge. Rankings One through Ten determined purity, reflected by the color of one’s blood. No one knew what had caused it to come about. Some said it was an evolutionary change, your species’ way of adapting to protect itself, to single out the good from the bad on a genetic level. Some said that it was a curse from God. Others said it was a gift from Him.

What they didn’t teach in school was about the before—a time when blood wasn’t colored, when everyone had the same bright red within their skin. Aunt Bea liked telling you stories about it when she wasn’t choking on cigarette smoke or swimming in liquor.

You wondered if Joel had similar stories. He was older than Aunt Bea, and surely his were better than hers, especially if he had lived on a farm with horses….

And he said that all you’d have to do was sit there and look pretty. He’d called you pretty. Maybe it was silly to get this giddy over a simple word, but it helped lift your spirits more than you would ever know. Here in this place you felt dirty. Empty. But Joel looked past the boxy scrubs and the eyebags.

A hand prodded you forward, drawing you out of your reverie. “Keep walking.”

You nearly stumbled, but luckily kept your balance as you continued your pace along the corridor.

Today was supposed to be your first day in the dining hall, and Joseph and Maria were your escorts for the day. Apparently the workers here kept new patients in their rooms for a couple weeks to determine how insane they really were. If they were alright enough to interact with others, they’d have the privilege of not dining alone with the other only-sort-of-crazy members here.

Yay you.

It was something, at least. The situation was bittersweet. On one hand, you’d get to see other people. You had been struggling lately, what with your only dining companions being your four white walls, white bed, white chair, and white floor. Sometimes you pretended that Father Miller was there in the corner reading the Bible to you in that rich, rumbling bass of a voice.

On the other hand, you were kind of sort of absolutely terrified. Everyone inside Silver Lake Asylum was supposed to be criminally insane. Could you really deal with that for forty-five minutes? What if a fight broke out? What if the only thing the guards cared about was making sure you stayed in the asylum, not what physical state you were in?

I’m supposed to be the worst of them as a Ten, you thought to yourself. If I can handle myself, then surely I can handle the others.

You kept that thought with you almost as a shield as Joseph swiped his keycard and opened the dining hall door.

Tainted prayers part 4? 🎀

Glad you like the fic enough to request another part! I will get to it at some point, right now I have a decent amount of requests in my inbox for drabbles/oneshots that I want to get to first. But I will eventually be back to Tainted Prayers, don’t worry!

Also for those who have requested and haven’t seen their asks answered for awhile—I promise I haven’t abandoned them! I’m actively working on them, I just want to make sure the content I’m producing for you is high quality and not rushed :) so that’s why it may be taking some extra time.

i don't want to be an older man's sex toy or secret. i want to be an older man's darling, to be loved and treasured, i want to be doted on and treated like a princess, and in return i'll treat him like a king ♡︎

when is it my turn to have an older man fuck me silly and then hold me after????? when is it my turn to be called a good girl?? when is it my turn to be called princess??