To the Light { a joel miller fanfiction }

insatiable [ a To the Light one-shot]

A.N. hi! this fic reached 20k hits on AO3, so to celebrate and as a small token of my gratitude i wrote this little drabble.

"Even before you touched me, I belonged to you; all you had to do was look at me."

― Louise Glück, The Burning Heart

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There's something to be said about a love so expansive, so bottomless, that it burns, like swallowing a mouthful of coal or dropping a matchstick down one's throat. They say fire is destructive, that it only knows how to pillage, how to destroy, a selfish thing that can reap all the fruits of the land in one sweeping, crackling storm, leaving nothing in its wake but charred, bludgeoned ruin. Not often do we acknowledge what springs up in the aftermath, its ability to make way for new life, to keep warm, to satiate the desire to stand before something larger than oneself, something so powerful, so uncontrollable, that just to be in its presence feels like something of a miracle.

The fire that lived in her core, an eternal flame that may have always been there— crackling away somewhere behind her ribs— but that was not felt, not understood until the first time she looked into the face of the man she'd been running toward her entire life, that fire had made way for new life, a little piece of him and a little piece of her, growing all soft and warm in the wake of this beginning.

She felt stronger now, somehow, like everything that made up him was now living inside of her— solid, force of a man, just to be near him was to witness something remarkable, it was like the bulk of him could move mountains, could rearrange the atoms that made up a space just so they could make room for him, for everything that he was.

She was no longer some small, weak, creature of fear. How could she be? When she was carrying a piece of him within her.

Pregnancy had made her needy, though, desperate to be around him constantly. If she was not wrapped up against him, or split open all wet and throbbing on his cock, or writhing and keening with his face between her thighs, then that fire in her core felt too hot, desire like thick, viscous molasses making it hard for her to breathe.

She woke up, like she had often as of late, sometime in the middle of the night. The house was quiet and still, dark cloaking the room like a thick, wool blanket, but the fire in her core was burning, her cunt wet and slick and desperate, a whine tumbling from her throat as soon as she was conscious enough to feel the throb, aching and painful like some bleeding gash between her thighs.

He had one thick arm thrown over her side, the weight of it keeping her locked against his chest, his soft, warm breaths fanning out across the nape of her neck.

She whined, wiggling her backside against the, already, half-hard length of his cock. He was naked, still bare from fucking her to sleep earlier in the night. He'd tugged one of his worn, too-big shirts over her head before she drifted off, but that was all that existed in the way of clothes, the only thing separating her from the hot furnace of his skin.

He groaned, this low, rumbling noise that made her pussy weep and flutter, the bass of it vibrating through her core, stirring up the coals of the fire that burned there. His arm tugged her closer, locking firm and solid around her middle as he buried his face further into the tendrils of her hair, plush lips sweeping across the space just below her earlobe.

"Mmm, honey," his voice erupted in her ear, heavy with sleep, soaked with heady desire, "what're you doin' awake?"

"Joel— I need— I need— please—" she mewled, trying to grind more firmly against his cock, now nearly fully erect, hot and throbbing against the globe of her ass.