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david-lynch-pin · 1 year ago

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AMERICAN GIRL (PART THREE)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace's Stepdaughter!Reader

Warning: Grace is a bully, infidelity, taboo

The following day, Tommy had, indeed , arranged for a tutor to come to the mansion and work with Emma and, much to the dislike of Grace, he had offered you a position in one of his many legitimate establishments where, unbeknownst to you, he could keep an eye on you.

Usurpingly, he did not trust you yet, seeing how Grace had betrayed your father by sleeping with him. As such he believed that you were nothing but a wildcard, a force that could not be calculated, and therefore potentially presented a threat to him and his livelihood.

And yet, despite himself, Tommy found himself intrigued by you nonetheless. There was an allure about you that could not be ignored and, moreover, there was a quiet strength in your eyes, a fiery spirit that he found incredibly attractive.

The work that you had been assigned to do under supervision was simple enough - organizing and cataloguing items in one of his stores down in Birmingham - but the time you spent there was never mundane.

One of the women who worked there with you for the time being was no other than Ada Shelby herself, Tommy's sister who was clearly there to spy on you until you could be trusted. Yet, despite the hidden animosity between you two, you quickly became friends.

Ada was a woman of few words but much wit, a firecracker hiding beneath a quiet, steely demeanor. Her dark eyes held a thousand stories, most of which she would never openly share with anyone and you respected her for that.

Ada had a child of her own, but no man by her side to help her raise her young son Karl. Her husband Freddy had passed on several years ago and a tragic loss like this was something you both shared in your lives.

Just like she looked after her son, you were looking after your sister and , therefore the two of you found a strong bond between yourselves.

Unlike Ada, you were not shy about sharing stories from your life with her, although they weren't many and, in turn, she spoke about her brother Tommy, about whom you happened to have many questions, none of which she refused to answer.

You wanted to know what kind of man he was and when Ada told you that he did bad things to a good end, you couldn't help but feel intrigued by his many motives. It was during those long hours at work that Ada shared the story of Thomas Shelby and his family, painting a vivid picture of his past that you couldn't help but find utterly captivating.

You learned that Tommy had been in France, and, in spite of his achievements, he threw his medals in the Cut. He was a tunneller during the Great War and, when he came back home, he had seen too much to be able to return to the man he was before.

The war had changed him fundamentally, and this did not surprise you. It had changed your father too, and you remembered, as a little girl, witnessing the way the man you loved dearly had returned from the trenches of Europe battered and emotionally destroyed.

Ada told you how her brother had started Shelby Company Ltd. with his brothers, how they had built it together and turned it into a formidable force that controlled large portions of the city's trade without giving away the family secrets. Tommy was at the helm of all this, and you could understand why Ada once said that she saw both heaven and hell in his eyes.

He was capable of immense cruelty and merciless violence, but the kind heart he reserved for those closest to him remained hidden behind the tough and unyielding exterior.

You worked at the shop three days a week and, at least once every day, Tommy would come by to check on you before, occasionally, visiting a woman by the name of Lizzie Stark at her nearby lodging.

You followed them once and found out that Lizzie Stark was a prostitute who worked for Tommy. She was, as far as you could gather, rather smitten by him. It was obvious to you that her and Tommy regularly engaged in intimate relations with each other but, even so, there was something distant in the way he looked at her, as though he was always preoccupied by thoughts far beyond his current reach.

Lizzie didn't seem to notice this while, yet she considered you as her biggest thread and, in spite of your better judgment, you found the thought amusing more than anything else. After all, it should have been Grace who she was jealous of, not you but then again, perhaps she knew as well as you did that Tommy didn't love either of them. As he had told you himself, he didn't have the capacity for love, or so it seemed.

The first time you saw Tommy with Lizzie however, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of something akin to disappointment. But you weren't disappointed about the fact that he was unfaithful to Grace, but rather , you were disappointed in the way your own heart reacted when you saw them together.

Eventually, four weeks had passed since you started working at the shop, and you've had ample opportunity to observe Tommy's interactions with Lizzie and others. She wasn't the only one he had been seeing and, for some reason, even despite his misgivings, that strange fascination you felt towards him kept growing, albeit slowly.

You couldn't put your finger on what it was that made him so magnetic. His brooding nature and hardened exterior were part of it, but there was more to it than that.

He was a man of many contradictions, and that intrigued you.

That same night, just like many others, you passed him inside the corridors of the large house you were now living in, giving him a knowing glance as if to say 'I know what you did today' without uttering a single word. And he always returned the look with an exasperating half-smile that both maddened and thrilled you. He knew that you knew about his infidelity and, yet he did not seem to care.

You didn't hate Thomas Shelby or any of the members of his family, but you despised Grace with every fiber of your being.

The day your father died, your whole world had crumbled before your very eyes, leaving you and Emma at the mercy of a woman who couldn't bear the sight of you. She made no secret of this hatred and had been eagerly waiting for your father's fortune to be handed down to her hands.

As such, you really wanted to tell her about her partner's unfaithfulness. You wanted to rub it in and let her know that he was doing to her what she had done to your father all long. But yet, something stopped you.

Some unspoken code of honor, perhaps, or maybe just the small sliver of compassion that still lingered within your wounded heart. You pitied Grace and feared her in equal measure, and you couldn't bring yourself to interfere and risk your own wellbeing and the wellbeing of your little sister Emma who, only in the past week, had started sleeping in her own room.

Besides, Thomas Shelby was not your concern. He was a grown man who made his own choices, and it was not your place to pass judgment on him. But somehow, you found yourself doing it anyway.

Occasionally, Tommy kept you company when neither of you could sleep and it were those nightly interactions that slowly, almost unknowingly, began to brew a forbidden chemistry between you and him.

Leaning against the banisters, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he puffed on his cigarette, you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter when he asked you about your day.

His gaze followed your every action, lingering on the gentle curve of your waist or the crook of your neck as you spoke. It was that same raw intensity that made your skin tingle and your breath hitch - a silent conversation of want and need.

You would meet by chance most nights, either in the library or outside, by the stables, after Grace had gone to bed and whilst your interactions were innocent enough, your conversations were deep and meaningful. You found Tommy to be intelligent and well-educated, with a passion for literature and fine art, topics that you would discuss at length, fuelled by the desire to learn more about him - and yourself.

Occasionally, you would catch him outside the lavatory in the staff quarters, listening intently as you sang while having a bath or shower. This was something that had always irritated Grace, hearing you sing, but Tommy seemed to enjoy it - or, at least, he never let on if he didn't.

One late night, as you were making use of the large piano near the library, Tommy entered the room. You hadn't heard him come in, but you felt his gaze on you, watching intently as your fingers danced across the keys.

You paused for a moment, turning to face him before continuing your musical journey with another melody.

"You have a quite a talent for music," Tommy commented, his gaze cast downward to the floor.

Tommy leaned against one of the tall, mahogany shelves that lined the room. The soft amber glow from the fireplace illuminated one side of his face, granting him a certain warmth in his usually stoic features.

"I learned from my mother," you stated simply, continuing to play. Your gaze remained focused on the falling notes you were creating on the piano, not daring to turn your head and meet his gaze.

But, oh, how you wanted to! His presence made you feel all kinds of things, some you'd never experienced before, like unsettling excitement and an irrepressible craving for that forbidden fruit.

"I sometimes come to the staffing quarters just to hear you sing in the shower," he murmured, his eyes locked on yours as he confessed.

You felt your cheeks heat up, your pulse quickened as you continued to playing the piano, the melody now more dramatic. You couldn't believe what you were hearing; he must have been joking, being so direct but if this was the game he wanted to play, then you would oblige.

"I have noticed, and so have the maids. You should be more cautious," you teased, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as the corners of your eyes crinkled with amusement.

Tommy pushed off the shelf, moving closer to you, the space between you shortening rapidly. He leaned on the piano now , effectively entrapping you between him and the instrument. You could feel the warmth emanating from his body, and it made your heart race.

"Perhaps I wanted you to notice," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze bore into yours, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"And perhaps I wanted you to listen," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The tension in the room grew thicker, filling the air with a palpable energy that neither of you seemed capable of breaking. The only sound in the room was the gentle strumming of the piano keys beneath your fingertips.

Tommy leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel his chest rise and fall with each shallow breath he took, his eyes never leaving yours as he leaned over you and turned the page on the book in front of you. You were acutely aware of the proximity between you, the way his body seemed to align perfectly with yours as if you were two halves of a whole. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark that threatened to consume you whole.

"Can you play this?" Thomas asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he pointed to the new sheet music. His proximity still had your heart pounding, the wild beat echoing in your ears.

"Yes, of course I can. I can play anything," you winked playfully before turning your attention back to the music sheet, your fingers dancing gracefully over the keys. You felt Tommy's gaze on you as you played, his presence making your heart race.

You continued to play, the melody filling the library with its enchanting sound. You could feel the weight of Tommy's gaze on you, and it sparked a fire within you that you couldn't ignore. Your fingers moved faster over the keys, your body swaying gently to the rhythm of the music.

Tommy watched you in awe, your talent and beauty captivating him completely until, suddenly, the door swung open .

Grace swept into the room, her eyes narrowing at the sight of Tommy standing so close to you, his hands hovering near yours.

"What is going on here?" she demanded, her voice tight with anger as Tommy stepped away from you.

"I am listening to Y/N play the piano," Tommy replied smoothly, his eyes never leaving yours for a moment.

Grace's gaze flicked from you to Tommy and back again, her jaw tightening as she clearly struggled to maintain her composure. "I can see that, but I wonder why? Why are you listen to her play the piano at this hour?" she pressed, her voice dripping with suspicion.

Tom's eyes remained locked onto yours, a silent message passing between you, a promise of something unspoken that only the two of you could understand.

"Because she plays beautifully, Grace. And, as usual, I can't fucking sleep, eh" Tommy replied, his nonchalant tone grating on Grace's nerves. She stared daggers at him, her eyes narrowed to slits.

"Well, wrap it up, because I cannot sleep either because of it," Grace said, her voice tight with anger, causing Tommy to look at her with a mix of irritation and mild amusement before standing up.

"I will see you tomorrow, Y/N. Have a good night," he told you, ignoring Grace's outburst and leaving you in a state of confusion and frustration.

You watched him leave, his presence leaving an ache in your core that took you by surprise while Grace told you to be quite and to go to bed. You didn't object, you knew better.

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david-lynch-pin · 2 years ago

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Sarahs teacher ༊*·˚

pairing: no breakout!Joel x fem reader

Summary: Joel saves you from a uncomfortable interaction with a drunk, and it quickly devolved with him fucking you in a single stall at the bar. Though when you see the little drawings his daughter leaves in his car, you peice together your connection only after it's too late.

Content warning: 18+ NSFW, age gap, grey hairs so hes about that old, picture part 2 joel cause he's the sexiest, also this outfit he has on is pretty acruate to how I pictured him while writing, hair pulling, p in v, creampie, surface level degrading (slut, whore), praise degrading (pretty slut), pet names (darling, sweetheart, baby), southern hospitality!, crazy confident and blunt, breif harassment (not by joel), biting, leaving a mark, dom!Joel, sarah mentioned/met

word count: 4.4k

masterlist

inspired / requested by this wonderful anon!

Clanging of glass against wooden tables, the saturated musk of whiskey and heated bodies overwhelms your senses as you walk within the bar.

You watch as men raise voices in argument over games blaring on TVs hung high over the center of the room, feeling eyes trace your shape as you make your way to the counter.

“Just water for now, please.”

The bartender obliged, and as you sit down upon old wooden barstools with short backs to provide minor support to your height off the ground, a pair of eyes seems to fall on you that feels a bit more welcomed than those prior.

Hair fell long right above his eye, salt and peppered hair that was well groomed though currently unkempt in a way-- as though the day had been long on him. Multicolored stubble compliments the smirk of the man that gazed upon you with dark brown eyes hooded by thick lashes. His skin was tanned, and complemented greatly by the dark brown of his jacket coupled with the muted greens of a flannel below it. He had his sleeves rolled up, seeing both his elbows placed on the counter as a glass of whisky was held lightly between a few fingers over the cup just a few inches from his face did he soak in every part of you with his gaze.

His eyes resting on yours set your body aflame, the confidence of his intent made you compelled to want to let him do whatever he wished. A man probably twice your age, like a fine wine did he fire off nerves within you that even men you adored couldn't properly emulate. He was experienced, cocky. He wasn't shy about getting what he wanted like most men your age, and that felt new to you.

You were getting ahead of yourself, within the few seconds that held eye contact between you and this stranger you felt an eternity of lust seep deep in the pits of your stomach. There was no means to even believe that was his intent, the most you can really give yourself was the complement of his elongated gaze affixed on you. But after a few moments his eyes tore away and engaged in what played on the TVs, and watched as the people went by. Leaving you to yourself for a moment to yearn for him, after so much as a glance.

…

“This drink came from the man right down there.”

What sat before you was some sort of vodka tonic, and as your head moved to glance upon that stranger once more with a welling of anticipation for his next move, a different hand shot out and waved to claim that prize. Your heart sank. Some 20 something stood to approach you, a hat upon laid back hair that sported some football team you knew nothing about, and the careful steps of a man trying to impress whilst also being a few drinks in. he slides up tho the empty space on the counter next to you, and elbow propped against your side to lean in, does the stench of cheap liquor and sweat permeate your senses as he begins to talk to you.

“Mm, what's your name, pretty lady?”

A scoff quietly escapes you as the slur of his words make any attempt at flattery obsolete.

“What's it to you?”

Brows furrow at the harsh response to his kind gesture, he retorts;

“Well I just bought you that drink didn't i? Don't I deserve a little somethin?”

A little something what do you look like? A hooker?

“You don't deserve a damn thing. I didn't ask for this cheap thing.”

He leans in a bit closer to you, closing the gap of space between your body and his as you grow increasingly uncomfortable with his advances with no way out.

“Oh come on don't be like that, listen, how about we get a few more and you can join my buddies over there. We’ll have fun.”

Slowly you move yourself away from his body inching closer to you,

“No, I think I'm good where I'm at.”

He grabs your wrist as you try to leave, with the untamed grip of a man not wholly sober and increasingly offended;

“Oh don't be like that, are you even here with everyone? You’re just asking for attention.”

A new voice chimes in from behind the both of you.

“Now, the lady said she don't want anythin to do with you. Aint no sense in tryna force her, especially if you want to keep that nose of yours unbroken. Ya understand me boy?”

The stranger from earlier, carrying deep southern drawl and a sternness in his voice comes to you like a guardian angel. He looms over the short heighted man in comparison, with an air of dominance and intimidation that supersedes anything that that could have done in comparison.

“You didn't tell me you were with someone. I.. I'm sorry sir.”

His voice shrinks at the sight of conflict with him, he turns to you then to him for apology, before scampering off to his friends with a tail between his legs.

The man turns to face you now, dwarfing you in his shadow as he looks at you. There's a kind smile in his eyes, with a soft smirk on his lips as he goes to take the place of the man before him.

“I'm sorry that man was bothin ya darlin’. Aint no way to treat a lady like you.”

your ears perk up at that final part-- a lady like you. You feel flush at his flattery, giving a moment to shift your body closer to his ever so slightly to lean into his words.

“A lady like me hm? And what does that mean?”

Once again he doesn't properly cower at the confrontation of very bold flirting -- you can tell this isn't his first time playing this kind of game. And you were more than glad to play along.

“Well, just mean a lady pretty as you, that's all.”

Coy smile coats his face as he takes another sip of his drink.

“Oh well, thank you sir. Can't say it's every day a handsome man like you comes to my rescue.”

Sir. his eyes flick up from his drink to the sound of that, and you notice this time.

“No bother, names Joel.”

Joel. Where have I heard that name before?

“Ahh, well, sir Joel, I'll be heading to the bathroom for a bit. Think you'll still be here when i'm back?”

You hop out of your chair, brushing off and readjusting the dress you wore as you centered yourself on the floor once more.

“Mm I'm sure I will sweetheart.”

He smiles as his drink is raised to his lips once more from hovering fingers over it's top, he sends you off with a wink and the knowledge that as you walk away he gets a greater view of the body he could only see from across the bar.

…

Knock knock

“I'm in here.”

In a single stall are you leaning over a metal sink to correct makeup and hair in the mirror of the bathroom. You didn't need to use the bathroom, just needed to fix your makeup if you thought you could have any more confidence with Joel.

Knock knock knock

“Dude- i'm fucking in here.”

You go to open the door and chew out whoever was pounding on the door, like there weren't other stalls to use. Though as you crack open the side of it you see Joel standing before you, before quickly pushing his way inside it as well. Turning you around does he pin you against the wall adjacent to the door itself.

“Listen here darlin’. I wont play coy, there aint nothin I want to do to you more right now then to have ya all to myself. I cant fuckin stand it.”

His hand lays flat on your shoulder as it pushes you against the wall, the other hand making its way to cup your jaw. His calloused fingers stroke your cheek as you stand there speechless.

“Use your words baby. Come on, I know you fuckin want it.”

“Y-- yes sir. I…I wouldn't mind”

You stammer out a weak consent that seems to be the only thing that can come to mind as you grow intoxicated by his scent, his aura. Whisky coats his breath as he looms over you, the smell of his cologne masking scents of sawdust and tobacco as you feel his heat on you with how close he stands to you.

“Good.”

His lips smash into yours, feeling his tongue immediately trying to invade every part of your mouth, taste every last drop of your spit as though he was addicted to it. His hands trail up and down your body as his fingers pay no regard to the loose fabric that made up your dress. Gripping your waist he let up from your kiss, turning you around to face the mirror that was just moments ago used as a means to fix your makeup, now you found yourself pushed down onto the cold metal of the sink that still held your eye makeup and brushes. His hands traced all up and down your back as though he was worshiping the body below him, standing right at your backside you could feel his bulge growing from the inside of his worn jeans.

Fuck hes big.

His body falls to cup yours, fully clothed does the request become but a low whisper deep in your ear as his hand trails up your neck to your hair, pulling it back as your back arches to compliment the placement of his bulge.

“Good girl. Now don't you look so pretty?”

He refers to the mirror in front of you, and as you gaze at yourself within it you see hairs falling in front of your face, as arms twice as large as yours grip onto your hair to force your face to look directly within the mirror. You look at him, watching as his face contorted into what looked like a proud lion with his fresh prey. His smirk was selfish, and the way he looked at your body made you feel naked. Undressing what was left of you with his eyes, he didn't leave any more room for imagination as he let up from you for a moment to unbuckle his belt. Watching as the jeans fell to the floor with a heavy clunk, and all that remained was his boxers that swiftly followed. You couldn't see his cock, but as he grazed it along your folds you could just feel how much there was.

“Now ain't that a sight. All this ‘cause of me hm? Gotta say I'm honored.”

He pushes your panties down, a trail of your own slick following suit that leaked down your thigh unabashedly. You feel a heavy hand pressed down onto your back.

“Arch your back for me darlin’.”

And as you do so, you feel him grab your ass, slapping it and pulling it apart to look at your heat before you could feel his tip directly at your entrance. He lets it linger for a moment, cupping himself to you slightly and brings your hair back to look at the mirror once more.

“Look how pretty of a fuckin’ slut you are baby. Absolutely drenched for my cock, you better take it good alright? I'm not here to play nice with ya’.”

You nod your head as much as you could in understanding before you felt him piercing you. It was so much, too much. You felt as though you were going to be split open entirely as the first pulse he did in you felt as though he’d never reach the base. As he grew to be halfway inside of you you felt full to the brim, biting your lip with closed eyes to try and take it all without a whine.

You feel a jerk of your hair as he went deep into you. You felt his body flush against yours but with eyes closed he yanked your neck up to look at him.

“Don't close your eyes, baby. I want you to look at me.”

A steady pace was founded soon after, feeling him go in and out of you elicited timed whines and moans, your brain felt as though it was melting in a way, the only thing that your body could think of as every pounding force inside of you made your nerves shoot off and you felt it everywhere in your body. Down to your fingers was the sense of taking in every vein, every curve, every little inch of his cock as it used you like you were some toy.

Your fingers fall to your own clit, desperate to cum on his cock already do you draw circles over your own throbbing parts, as your mind grows numb at the feeling of the two combined. Though Joel is quick to notice.

“Do you want to fuckin’ cum for me darlin’? Come on now all ya gotta use is your words and I can do all that for you. You're mine right? My pretty little slut.”

His free hand snakes over your thigh to find your fingers, pushing them aside as his calloused fingers match the same motion you had just done but with greater intensity. Your whole body is at his disposal, feeling nothing but the pleasure he's giving you, your hands grasp at nothing to try and stabilize yourself against his cock. Looking at the mirror he forces you to watch as he groans over you, watching the sweat drip off his hair down onto his chest as he grows less and less controlled in his movements. You watch as your own face pathetically contorts into inexplicable pleasure, you are addicted to him. The way his cock feels inside of you, his fingers on your clit. You feel your heat building up in your stomach quickly, a flame sweltering in your stomach that was going to peak at any moment.

“God-- fuck Joel, i’m going to cum. Oh my god--”

You feel yourself contract on top of his cock, your insides desperately wrapped around him as you finish. your legs shake but as he presses himself into you even more you cant move almost anywhere.

“Fuck you feel so good, god-- so fuckin’ good i'm--”

His fingers still trace a sensitive clit as your body moves involuntarily to the rhythm of his cock inside of you, your body completely overwhelmed as he finishes inside of you after only a few more strokes, you feel a heat fill deep inside of you. Keeping it in for a second does the excess of his finish seep out of the edges of you, trailing down your leg onto the floor.

Jagged breath fills the air that was once filled with groans and whimpers, shallow breaths to try and come back to reality fill your lungs as you lay against the counter ever still. You listen as Joel adorns his jeans once more, looping the belt into propper hole before grabbing paper towels from the nearby dispenser. His hands travel down the side of your leg where you and him mixed together in remis of pleasure and slowly takes the dry towel to it, mopping up all that he left on you.

“Here ya go darlin’. Now, turn ‘round for me.”

Waiting as you turn slowly, your body just getting in tune with being able to move on it's own again you face him. A face covered in sweat, hair stuck to his face he still looked enchanting. He takes you in, a look of yearning and hunger still coated his eyes as he looked you up and down.

“This’ll only hurt for a second sweetheart.”

His fingers move the straps of your dress to your shoulders, moving them down to expose your chest. Bending down does he place small kisses on your chest, but before you could question it you felt his teeth sink into your chest. Sucking with intent to leave a mark, shallow pants meet fingers through his hair as you whine softly. Soon his lips let up, and a wet mark along your chest remains.

“Didn't want ya to forget me too quickly. Just say this is a little reminder of me.”

Joel smiles at you, a wink following his brazen claim on your body well after tonight somehow made you more attracted to him. There was something so matter of fact, demanding about him. He just took whatever he wanted and it had just happened to be you. The perfect combination of southern charm and degradation was enough to fuel you for a lifetime off this very night.

He opens the door for you as you exit, following you out swiftly after does the walk to the general bar feels like your own walk of shame in a way. But were you really ashamed? They all knew what had just transpired, but part of you was proud of it. Joel certainly was.

“You got any ways of gettin’ home sweetheart?”

His voice inquired from behind you, making you turn to face him once more as more proper light shone on him giving him even greater features to be enamored by.

“Oh well, my place is around a 20 minutes walk from here, so that's how I got here.”

His brows furrowed at that notion, though it's better than any alternative of driving here with the intent of getting drunk.

“Seems like I'll be takin’ you home then. You want anything before take ya?”

“What? No- you don't need to take me home. It's such an inconvenience and-”

“Listen sweetheart. It wouldn't be right of me leavin’ you hear all by yourself after all we just did. It's only proper.”

You acquiesce. He does make a good point, and as he opens the door for you once more he leads you to his old truck, the seats smell of wood and coffee and you survey the insides to see a small drawn picture of what seemed to be him and a small girl upon his dash. A medium of crayon depicted two simple figures holding hands under a sun.

“I didn't know you were such an artist Joel”

You nudge him, teasing him about the photo briefly.

“Now, you know I didn't do all that. Was my girl Sarah, made it when she was about 5 I think. Shes my whole world that little girl.”

His smile lit up at the mention of his daughter, one that left you a bit dumbfounded because you didn't expect him to be a proud father given his introduction but you had no doubt he was a good one nonetheless.

The drive home was slow but soothing, low country music played on his CD player as he drove down the road to your apartment. And as you signified to him which one was your place he pulls off to the side and drops out of the truck before you. Opening the door for you does he lead you out and to your door, with a kind farewell that despite all his degradation can never override his innate hospitality. Bidding you farewell as he leaves back into his truck, there's no part of you that feels as though you’ll ever see him again. But for a hookup, it's the nicest way you’ve ever been treated after. By a longshot. You won't be quick to forget him, with or without his hickey.

…

School bells ring in your ears as you stand atop a small ladder that gets you to the top of the ceiling to tack on the final decoration for your parent-teacher night. It’d been over a week since you’d met Joel, and as the Friday before a long weekend creeps up on you the last thing you need to do is go through a line of parents and hope none of them have bad things to say about you. You fancied yourself a very good 7th grade teacher, with some of the children within your grade holding bright futures ahead of them. Specifically Sarah, not only was she a rising athlete but she was incredibly academically gifted. The anticipation to meet her parents grew purely out of curiosity, on what kind of scholars they were to raise such a well behaved child.

Parents began to pour in before too long, the clock ticking from 4 to 6, conversation over conversation about the behavior of students, curriculum taught, and teaching philosophies wore you out by the time there was a little less than 30 minutes left of the window to greet parents.

A clock shining at 6:16 made you feel as though your day was done, no real stragglers came in at the last 15 minutes, and as you finished up with the ones who came in the last 30, you began to relax at your desk for a moment.

Until, of course, you see the thick curly hair of a certain sarah enter your classroom. You felt rejoiced, noting that if you had to deal with anyone, it’d gladly be her and her parents. Though as you watched with a smile on her face as she walked in it was soon no longer matched by you once you saw who her father was.

Alone in the classroom did you stand across from Joel, whose daughter he held softly by her shoulder. your heart sank.

What are the fucking odds?

His usual confident demeanor was completely wiped by what seemed to be genuine shock at the sight of you.

“I'm sorry we’re so late miss, dad always works super late so I can never come as early as I want. This is my dad, Joel!”

Thats where I knew his fucking name from.

Sarah breaks the silence with apology on his behalf, followed by an introduction as you slowly lower yourself within your seat once more and usher them to sit across from you.

“Oh- oh, there's no worries. There's still time before we technically finish, so I'm more than glad to see you Sarah.”

Your conversational tone is light, you keep eyes on Sarah while trying to talk to her about school and life, hearing about her new position on the soccer team is the only thing keeping you sane as the same musk you tasted down your throat is sitting right across you once more.

Sarah's eyes darted over to the entrance to the classroom, spotting what seems to be one of her friends who also arrived quite late.

“Oh-- dad. Dad, I'm going to go say hi to my friend. Can I go? Please?”

“No sarah, you’ve gotta stay right here.”

A diversion of eye contact with you that put all eyes on a whining sarah led you to chime in at the sight of her dismay,

“Oh it's alright, there's a few things i’d like to speak to you about anyways.”

She darts away without a second thought, taking your word more to heart than her own fathers.

So there you two are sat-- eyes locked in on one another as you watch Joel's demeanor falter. He’s barely the man you met at the bar, all semblance of confidence gone to be replaced with a much more sheepish embarrassment at the face of his daughter being directly connected to his hookups.

“So, Mr. Miller then is it?”

You take this as a means to taunt him.

“Funny seeing you here isn't it? Your daughter is exceptional, I'll give you that. But doesn't every day something like this happens does it?”

He clears his throat, arms crossing as he lies back slightly upon the chair.

“Now, I mean no disrespect here but you can’t be tauntin’ me like this darlin’. Taking everythin in me to not pin you over that desk just like I did before.”

Your cheeks grow red and flushed. He wasn't sheepish, he's holding back. If it wasn't for his daughter being right down the hall he’d probably already have you wrapped around his cock again.

Silence consumes you two once more as you feel your words choke in the back of your throat, you don't have a proper response to something so brazen but his eyes read yours and he makes it clear you needn't say anything at all.

“Listen sweetheart, if I spend another minute in here with you you’ll probably wanna shut that door and hope no one comes a knockin. So I'll save you the trouble. How’s about you give me your number, and I'll make sure to find time to see you again.”

You scramble for pen and paper to give him what he wants, you now sheepishly handing him your number as you watch him rise from the seat and straighten himself.

“Was meanin’ to do this last time. I ain't felt anything as good as you for as long as i can remember. Usually I wouldn't do this, bein’ sarah's teacher and all, but hope you can understand that I can’t resist another night with you.”

He grabs the paper from trembling hands, feeling his calloused fingers graze yours once more, shooting a shock of nerves to heat up your lower stomach from a mere touch.

“I’ll see ya around darlin’.”

A wink and a smile are the last thing you see of him before he takes himself to your door, disappearing as you hear a group of young girls as he walks into the hallway all clamoring something about Sarah as he takes her home.

You’re left sitting in an empty classroom once more, a clock shining at 6:28 as your cue to leave is imminent. But as you look around you, all you can see is Joel. Every place you look there you are pinned against it with a skirt ridden up and cock shoved inside of you. Even in the empty space in the middle of the classroom you see your knees bare against linoleum as his hands grip your hair and guide it up and down him. You yearned for him, you needed him.

A text chime snapped you out of your trance.

“5pm, tomorrow. I’ll pick you up.”

And it seems like he needed you too.

“And wear what you wore today, I want to take it off of you myself.”

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david-lynch-pin · 2 years ago

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Title: cruel summer | chapter 1

Pairing: Joel Miller/Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Chapters: 6/6

Read on AO3 | Join the tag list

Summary:

Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.

He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

Author’s note: I’m playing fast and loose with ages and timelines here. Joel is 38, reader is 23, and Sarah is 5. No mushroom apocalypse here, y’all.

Additional tags/warnings: explicit sexual content, age gap (15 years), reader is 23 and Joel is 38, he’s a lil guilty about it anyways, pet names, dirty talk, lack of aftercare, oral (f receiving), fingering, begging, angst, drying humping. Let me know if I’m missing anything!

You hear the heavy footsteps of your dad and the contractor coming up the steps to the front door. You turn from the stove, spatula in hand just as your dad comes into view with a man you’ve never seen before.

He’s tall and broad, shoulders stretching the worn flannel he’s wearing to what must be near its breaking point. He’s got a strong nose and sharp jaw highlighted by his tan skin. His hair is brown that’s streaked with gray, messy curls sticking up in all directions.

Woah, you think. Your eyes meet warm brown ones that make your knees feel a little unsteady.

Your dad gives the man your name followed by, “My daughter. She’s home for the summer while she studies for the MCAT. I hope that’s not a problem that she’ll be here?”

“Not a problem for me. Noise might bother you, though, if you’re tryin’ to study,” the man says, deep voice making your mouth go a little dry. He holds a hand out to you. “I’m Joel, by the way. I’m doin’ the remodel on your parent’s room.”

That’s right. Your dad had mentioned that your mom had finally broken him down and made him get a contractor out to update their master bath. They scheduled it while they’re away on a six week cruise, leaving you to house sit while you studied for your exam.

“It won’t bother me,” you reply, shaking his hand. They’re calloused and warm and just the brief contact is enough to have you wondering what they would feel like trailing over other parts of your body. “I’ve got noise canceling headphones.”

He smiles, but it’s short lived. He sniffs the air, brows pinching together. “Is something burning?”

“Shit! My eggs!” You turn back to the stove and shut the burner off, moving the pan off the heat and trying to scrape your now burnt scrambled eggs from the surface.

“Come on, Joel, let me show you upstairs.”

________

Joel returns to the house a few times that week to take measurements and talk materials with your mom. Each time you’re there in the kitchen, books spread around you at the dining table and your head bobbing to music he can’t hear.

He can’t help the way his eyes linger when he comes inside, stomping his work boots against the mat inside the doorway as a courtesy and, if he’s honest with himself, to get your attention. And every time you glance up and smile at him, bright and beautiful.

As soon as he’s back upstairs and remembers he has a job to do, he berates himself for the thoughts he has. He has no goddamn right to be looking at a client’s daughter, much less one as young as you.

His presence in the house is sparing over the first couple weeks of the job, mostly just dropping by for measurements and to get an idea of a plan for demo day. He’s got orders in on tile placed, fixtures picked out, paint purchased. Everything’s in place to get started next week.

Satisfied, he heads downstairs to leave. He both hopes you’re in the kitchen and prays you’re not, if only to ease his guilty conscience.

But there you are, bent over in front of the fridge in shorts that hug your ass a bit too well. You straighten up with a can of beer in your hand, popping the tab and taking a sip.

“You even old enough to drink that?” Joel can’t help but ask, lingering in the doorway.

“I bought it. Why, you wanna see my ID? You moonlight as a cop or somethin’?” You roll your eyes.

Brat, Joel thinks, rolling his lips together. He turns to leave, he’s made enough of a fool of himself for one day.

“I’m twenty-three, in case you were wondering!” You call out as the door shuts behind him.

Fuck.

________

Joel’s been upstairs since early this morning, smashing things with a sledge hammer, prying things with a crowbar, and all sorts of other destruction that filters through your headphones.

It’s almost noon when you decide to give up and give into the temptation to go see what the man is doing. You head upstairs, stepping carefully into your parents room. There’s plastic tarp leading from the door of the bedroom to the door of the bathroom that crinkles beneath your feet as you move further inside.

You peek beyond the doorway of the bathroom and clutch the frame almost painfully when you catch a glimpse of a rather sweaty Joel, white t-shirt sticking to his chest and back as he wiggles a crowbar between the wall and vanity, leveraging his body weight against it to get the fixture to detach from the wall.

He repeats the process a few more times until the vanity is completely removed. He tosses the crowbar to the side and wipes the back of his hand across his dusty forehead. You clear your throat, his eyes shooting to the mirror to meet yours.

“Hey, uh. Hi. I’m about to make something for lunch…did you want anything?” You ask. His chest moves rapidly with his labored breathing.

“Sure,” he finally says.

_______

He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be sitting at the kitchen table, watching you move around the kitchen like a picture of domesticity as you make two ham and turkey sandwiches for lunch.

You set the plate in front of him, along with a cold can of Coke, before sitting across from him with your own matching meal. He takes a bite, humming in satisfaction.

“Thank you,” he says when he’s swallowed. You nod, picking up your own sandwich and digging in.

The two of you eat in silence for a few minutes. Joel lets his eyes wander over you while you’re focused on your food. You’ve got a University of Texas tank top on, white with an orange Longhorn stretched across your chest, and another pair of shorts, giving him an eyeful of your long, smooth legs.

Tearing his eyes from you, his gaze lands on the stack of books on the table. “So, the MCAT. Must mean you’re pretty smart.”

“Not to brag, but I did finish organic chemistry without crying,” you reply, lips tilted in a smug grin. “I’m taking it at the end of August, before senior year starts. Dad said I didn’t have to get a summer job if I moved home and saved him some rent money.”

“What kind of doctor are you lookin’ to become?”

“Pediatrician. I love kids.”

Joel’s heart rate kicks up as he thinks about you chasing a toddler around a manicured lawn surrounded by a white picket fence. Or in the kitchen with a baby on your hip.

Jesus Christ. What the fuck is wrong with him?

“Joel?” You ask, breaking through his mental flagellation.

“Hm?”

“I asked if you have any kids,” you repeat.

He can feel his face go soft. “Yeah, Sarah. She just turned five. She starts kindergarten at the end of the summer.”

“How sweet,” you say. “I bet you and your wife are excited about that.”

“There’s, uh…there’s no wife,” Joel replies, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He stands, taking this empty plate to the dishwasher. “I better get back to work.”

Joel feels the weight of your stare on his back as he heads upstairs.

________

It goes on like that for two weeks. Joel gets to the house early and you study at the kitchen table until lunch time, when you ask him if he wants anything to eat. He should say no. It’s not your job to feed him, he’s got a stash of granola bars that’ll do just fine.

But each time he sees your hopeful doe eyed expression, his resolve crumbles to dust.

So he sits at the table each day, eating the sandwich you made him and drinking the Coke you gave him, learning tidbits of information about you.

Like how you weren’t sure about pursuing medicine at first, so you’re a bit behind schedule in taking your studies and will be graduating late. You changed your degree path when you volunteered in the pediatric oncology service at the medical school, sitting with young kids undergoing chemotherapy and making their days brighter. Your last roommate had a cat that always hid your keys, but you still liked him anyways. How your favorite color is yellow.

He tells you about Sarah. About how her mom left not long after she was born and how he’s gone at this parenting thing alone, save for the support of his brother, Tommy. He tells you about how only finished a semester in community college before dropping out to pursue construction. His favorite drink is whiskey, neat, and his favorite color is red.

One day, you’re not at the table when he lets himself into the house with the key your dad made for him. He finds he’s disappointed, not starting his day with your smile.

Upstairs, he’s working on laying the mud for the shower pan when he hears a splash from outside. He peeks out the window of the bedroom that overlooks the backyard.

His mouth goes dry and his pants get uncomfortably tight as he watches you lift yourself from the pool. You’ve got on the skimpiest red bikini he’s ever seen, the top barely containing your tits and doing nothing to hide the hard peaks of your nipples. You wring your hair out over your shoulder before moving to lay down on a nearby lounger. Your body glistens with drops of water that Joel wants to chase with his tongue.

You turn over on your stomach and Joel bites back a groan, greedily committing the view of your ass to memory. Jesus Christ, he’s never felt like a dirty old man more than in this moment.

He returns to his task and tries to chase his lustful thoughts away with manual labor.

_______

You can see him watching you from the window. Your sunglasses keep your own gaze hidden as you revel in the undivided attention of the man you’d been drooling over the last few weeks. You’d put on your tiniest bikini for the occasion, laying yourself out on the lounge like a meal you’d like him to dig into.

He stood there for a few minutes and you could practically hear his teeth cracking from how tense his jaw was. You could tell Joel really struggled with his attraction to you. He’s staring down the barrel of a fifteen year age gap, after all.

You didn’t see an issue with it. You’re an adult, he’s not abusing any sort of position of power, hell, all the man has done is check you out. He hasn’t even touched you. You don’t want him to feel guilty about being attracted to you because god knows you don’t feel guilty for wanting to climb him like a tree.

You don’t bother with a towel or changing when you go upstairs to tell Joel lunch is ready. When he sees you in the doorway he freezes, and you bite back at a laugh at the look of surprise on his face.

“Lunch is ready,” you tell him.

He clears his throat. “I uh…I think I’ll just eat a protein bar. Thank you, though.”

Your bottom lip pops out in a pout. “But I made pasta salad.”

“I got a lot to do,” he tries again. His jaw keeps clenching, his hand wrapping tightly around the tool he’s holding like he’s hoping it’ll anchor him in place.

“Please, Joel?”

That gets him. He sighs, standing with a groan.

“Fine.”

________

This was a bad idea. He should have held strong and insisted he’d eat by himself today.

You’re still in that goddamn bikini and he is fighting for his life sitting at the table as he watches you plate up pasta salad. Usually you would drink a Coke with lunch but today he’s surprised to see you pouring a glass of wine.

“It’s my day off from studying,” you say as you take your seat across from him, sipping from the glass. “I think I deserve a little treat. Don’t you?”

He has to be imagining the double meaning of your words. He gives you a tight nod in response before focusing all his energy in eating his pasta and avoiding your gaze.

“You okay, Joel?” you ask. Your sweet face is pinched in concern and goddamnit, Joel can’t take this.

“Fine,” he grunts. You give him another pout, the same one that broke his resolve upstairs.

You finish before him, sticking your bowl in the sink before picking up your wine glass from the table and refilling it. Instead of taking a seat, you lean your barely clothed hip against the table in front of him.

“You seem tense,” you comment. Joel swallows roughly, throat dry. You set your glass down and take a step closer.

“What are you doin’?” He asks, voice rough and low. He can barely breathe. This can’t possibly be happening.

You plant your hands on his shoulders for balance as you slide onto his lap, legs on either side of his waist and pussy dragging across his hard cock. He hisses, hands grabbing onto your waist before he can stop himself.

“Darlin’, you can’t be doin’ this,” he says, voice strained. “We can’t be doin’ this.”

“Why not? I see the way you look at me. I’ve been lookin’ the same way.”

“You’re young, baby. Too young for an old man like me.”

You loop your arms around his neck, pressing your chest to his and fuck, he can feel your tight little nipples as your tits press against him. “‘M not too young,” you murmur, dipping your head to mouth at his neck. His fingers flex against your ribs. “You’re not doin’ anything wrong, Joel.”

His head drops back as you keep pressing sweet little kisses to the stubbled skin. His hips flex beneath you and you gasp, arms tightening around him.

Joel is so fucked. So, so fucked. Has been from the moment he stepped into this goddamn house and saw you sitting at this very table.

Maybe…maybe just one time. One time should be enough, get it out of your systems, cut through the tension and move on.

You’re whimpering against his neck, squirming over his lap as his hands drag up your waist until his fingers find the edge of one of the pathetic triangles covering your breasts. He can feel your breath hitch as he pulls it to the side, exposing your tight little nipple to the cold air.

“God, baby,” he groans, dipping his head forward to wrap his lips around the little bud. You moan so loud and wanton as he licks you that he knows he’s fucking done for.

He digs his fingers into your still damp hair, tugging your head back so that he can finally drag your mouth to his. You taste like wine and sunshine and he’s never been much of a wine guy, but from your tongue he’ll taste anything.

You open up to him so sweetly, your hands clutching his shoulders and your hips moving against his painfully hard cock as he devours you, dragging his own hands over all that exposed skin like it’ll disappear if he doesn’t touch you everywhere at least once.

It’s still not nearly enough.

He stands and you squeak in surprise as he sits you on the edge of the table. “Holy shit,” you mutter. He glances at your face to make sure you’re okay.

Your hair is messy from his hands and lips swollen from his kisses, eyes wide and dark as you stare back at him. Your top is half off, and Joel can’t help but reach out and tug the other cup down to expose your other breast.

“Pretty as a goddamn picture, darlin’,” he murmurs. He presses a hand to your chest, urging you to lie back.

“You think I’m pretty?” You ask. He huffs a laugh.

“Don’t be a brat, fishin’ for compliments,” he admonishes. He plucks at the strings holding those little bottoms in place, the bows falling loose so that he can push the material aside. “Look at this pretty fuckin’ pussy. You’re drenched, baby.”

“Been like this every day,” you reply, voice all breathy as you squirm beneath his rapt attention.

“That right?” He asks, dragging his thumb through your wet folds. You moan, hips jumping from the table. He kneels, placing one arm around over your hips as he presses your legs apart with his free hand, spreading you for him.

You’re breathing so fast he’s almost worried you might pass out. “Shhh, pretty thing, let me take care of you.”

He licks a broad stripe over your core, his tongue swirling around your aching clit before dipping back down to your entrance. You fight against his hold, hips trying in vain to chase his mouth.

“Oh, god,” you cry out. Your hands find their way to his head, fingers scratching against his scalp as he feasts on your cunt. “Joel, more, please!”

He keeps his arm tight against you and uses his other hand to slip one finger into your wet heat, groaning at how tight you are. His tongue focuses on your clit while he slowly strokes his finger in and out, adding a second then a third when you start babbling about more more more.

“Fuck me, Joel, please,” you beg. He shakes his head against your cunt, the scrape of his beard against your sensitive flesh making you scream. “Please!”

He stands, continuing to stroke his fingers inside you as he uses his thumb on your clit to replace his tongue. “Can’t, baby girl, I don’t have a condom with me.”

“I’m clean, I’m on the pill, please, Joel, I need your cock so bad,” you plead. Joel groans. He’s already crossed a line but he can’t go there. He knows damn well that if he feels you clenching around him with nothing between your bodies, screaming his name as he pounds inside of you, he won’t ever leave.

“No, sweetheart, you’re going to come on my hand and my mouth or you’re not going to come at all,” he snaps, hand moving faster, curling against your front wall.

_______

Tears slip from the corners of your eyes as Joel continues to drive you higher and higher toward release, your muscles tightening painfully as his fingers curl inside you and his thumb circles your clit.

You don’t know what you expected from all this, but Joel Miller dirty talking and finger fucking you on your kitchen table was not on your deduction bingo card. He’s better than anything your brain has conjured up thus far and you just know this one time isn’t going to be enough to sate you, especially since he keeps calling you “good girl” and “darlin’” and “sweetheart” in his rough southern accent.

You want him to fuck you so bad, you’re desperate for it. But he’s staunchly refusing to cross that line despite the hundreds that have been crossed already.

You try to hold back your orgasm, not wanting this to end, but it crashes over you anyways, leaving you breathless and sobbing his name as his hand slows its pace.

Joel’s fingers slip from your body and he leans forward, pressing them to your lips. You open your mouth, licking and sucking at his offering.

“Goddamnit,” he groans. “That was gorgeous.”

You sit up, supporting yourself on shaky arms. He steps back, but you hook a leg around his waist to stop him.

“Wait, let me—“

“No, baby, I’m good,” he says, cutting you off and dodging your hands. “I gotta get back to work.”

You can feel your high leave you in an instant. “Oh…okay.”

“Thank you for…lunch,” he says awkwardly. “I’ll be upstairs. If you need me.”

You don’t say anything as he turns to leave.

————

Upstairs in the bathroom, the one not being remodeled that he presumes is yours due to the messy countertop and fluffy yellow towels, Joel takes his cock from his pants and fists his length, grip almost painful as payment for his transgressions.

He cums with the thought of your eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, shouting his name as you clenched around his fingers. Your name is on his lips in the softest whisper he can manage as he cums, hard and hot, into a tissue.

He slumps against the wall, breathless. And while he may have come faster than a teenager, he doesn’t feel an ounce of relief.

Fuck.

1K notes · View notes

david-lynch-pin · 2 years ago

Text

Sweetest Perfection: Behind the wheel

Summary: In Jackson, you relieve Joel’s stress and discuss what’s to come.

Warnings: Smut, blowjobs, a bit angst.

W/C: 3.7k

A/N Chapter three! Thanks for all the love on the last two chapters. I’ve decided there’s gonna be two more chapters to this! I don’t feel great about this chapter but I just need to be done with it. It's definitely more of a transitional chapter to set up for future angst. Also, HOLY SHIT! Ya’ll blew tf up out of Thunder. I will be adding more to that ASAP!!!!!

Read previous chapter here

Sweet little girl, I prefer You behind the wheel and me the passenger Drive, I'm yours to keep Do what you want, I'm going cheap

A week or so passed after the night you shared with Joel, and you are now in Jackson. Finally, a community. It’s more than you could have ever imagined, more people than you’d ever seen before. And everyone was so nice!

All you feel at this moment is peace. Relief. Joel’s brother Tommy and his wife Maria put you, Joel, and Ellie in a cute little house across from their own. Much bigger than what you lived in before, and even had heat! Jackson is such a dream, you thought. Nothing could beat this feeling.

In the house you share with Joel and Ellie, you take a hot shower for the first time in weeks. It feels incredible. The warmth, the soap sliding over your skin. It’s comforting, reminds you of what you shared with Joel not long ago. His soothing touches, his gentle voice.

“How are you doing?” he asked you, the morning after. Ellie was up ahead, ambitiously looking for any signs of civilization.

“Good, yeah. I’m doing good,” you replied.

“How do you feel about last night?” he seemed concerned, and you couldn’t quite figure out why that would be. His deep voice wasn’t as confident like it usually is, more so abashed. Everything was fine on your end, you thought everything was fine on his.

“I liked last night a lot,” you said. “I wanna do more with you. Don’t you want more with me?”

“Of course, sweetheart. I just wanted to make sure you were doin’ okay,” Joel said. He opened his mouth again as if he had something more to say. You knew something was bugging him, it was obvious by his furrowed brow and the way he looked at his boots, and not ahead.

Maybe he was just tired. Maybe he felt awkward. Who knows. He probably really did want to make sure you were doing okay. After all, he told you that your comfort was important to him. You smiled at him, then walked ahead to meet Ellie.

The day came and went. You got settled, then went with Ellie and Maria for a movie. At some point though, Ellie disappeared and never came back. Perhaps she just wanted to sleep or got bored of the movie.

When you got home late that night, Joel was nowhere to be found. His bedroom door was open but he wasn’t in there. Ellie’s door was closed and the light was on, so you rapped on the door a couple times.

“Ellie?” you spoke into the wood. “You in there?”

The door clicked and opened. You were greeted with Ellie’s tearful eyes, the sight immediately setting alarms off in your mind. “Hey, what’s the matter? You left the movie early,”

Ellie didn’t speak, just moved to her spot at the window seat and stared outside.

“Where’s Joel?” you asked her.

Her eyes went glassy at the mention of him. “Who gives a fuck?” is all she said. Okay, so something had definitely happened between the two of them. It was clear Ellie wanted to be left alone, so you just gently told her to come get you if she needed anything.

Downstairs in the dark, you tripped over Joel’s foot. “Jesus, fuck!”

Joel turned on the lamp next to him without saying anything. Once again, you were met with another tearful gaze. His sad, brown eyes broke your heart. “Joel?”

He stays silent, a tear falling from his eye. The image was gut wrenching. You knelt in front of him, putting your hands on his knees. “What happened? Ellie’s crying too,”

Joel tried to speak, but just shook his head. You reached up and brushed his tear stained cheeks. How you wished you could make his pain go away. “We just got into it about somethin’,”

“Doesn’t sound like just something,” you said back.

“I’ve just got a lot on my mind, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about me,” Joel said to you with a shaky smile. He wiped his eyes and face, as if to erase the emotion away.

You nodded, then lifted up to leave him be. As you began to turn, Joel grabbed your wrist. A little hard, too. “Don’t leave me yet,”

“Okay,” you whispered, sitting back down next to him on the couch. You fidgeted with the threads of the worn material, anxiously wondering what the hell had happened.

A few moments passed in silence, Joel’s grip on your wrist transitioned to him holding your hand. You knew better than to coax him for an answer on what was upsetting him. Joel didn’t share much on his good days, so you doubted you’d hear anything anyway. You just rubbed the back of his hand with your thumb in small little circles, hoping he could feel your support. How you wished you could make his pain disappear.

Then, you got an idea. You pulled his drink out of his hand, set it on the table next to him. Then you slid over him and straddled his lap with your legs. Where this confidence came from, you had not a clue.

Joel looked perplexed. “What are you doin’, sweetheart?”

You gently pushed his head to the side, exposing his neck. You leant down to press gentle kisses along his throat and his jaw. He let you continue as his cock began to harden beneath you. Your actions were interrupted as Joel pushed you away by your shoulders. “Sweetheart?”

“I’m gonna make you forget whatever’s on your mind,” you spoke softly into his ear. You moved your hand between you both, and palmed his growing bulge.

Joel bit back a groan. “Come on now, you don’t need to do this, baby. That’s not how this is supposed to work,”

“Wouldn’t it feel good?” you questioned him, continuing to stroke his now fully hardened erection.

“That’s not the point. I’m supposed to take care of you,” Joel sighed under your touch.

“Wrong,” you said. “You said I can explore my desires with you, and right now I want to touch you. I want to make you feel good. Please?”

Joel semi-reluctantly caved to your request. Of course he wanted you to touch him, but he didn’t need you to get his rocks off just because he was upset. This shouldn’t be your burden to bear. Wordlessly, he undid his belt buckle and pulled himself out of his jeans. His dick was still such a beautiful sight.

For the second time now, you wrapped your fingers around his manhood. You begin caressing his cock, just like you did that night by the fire. You stroke up and down, savoring how the soft skin feels in your palm. You let out a quiet and pleased hum as you tilt forward and press your forehead to his.

Joel brings his hand down to meet yours, then wraps his fingers around yours. “Tighter,” he reminds you. He should be fighting this, but he can’t help it. You make him feel so good.

“Right,” you smile. Joel shoots a tiny smile back at you for a second, then closes his eyes in relief. You bring your other hand from his shoulder to the side of his head, playing and tugging with his hair before leaning in to kiss him. It’s timid at first, you try to remember how to move your lips and tongue against his own. He takes the advantage and leads the kiss as you continue pumping his shaft. Tongues swirling, teeth clicking. His mustache and beard tickling your face. The warm, intoxicating feeling of it all makes your head spin.

You pull away from the kiss then, and slither down his thighs until you’re eye level with his rigid cock.

“You sure you want that?” Joel asks you between breaths, eyeing you cautiously. “I was alright with what you were doin’ before. This might be too much for you.”

“I want you to teach me,” you admitted. “Show me how?”

“I told you. You shouldn’t be worrying about me,”

“This is for me, Joel,”

Without speaking, Joel takes one of your hands and puts it at the base of his cock. No matter how many times he touches you, you’ll never get used to the way your skin tingles under his fingertips.

You bend forward, waiting for instruction. “Blowjobs are easy,” he explains. “Lick, suck, and don’t bite. All you need is your lips and tongue, the rest just kinda falls into place.”

You move to lick him, but hesitate. Your confidence is gone. What do you do first? Where? How?

Joel notices you falter and sees the uncertainty in your eyes. He takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger and brings you just centimeters away from his cock. “Just start with a lick, right on top. You got it,”

You do as you’re told. Just one simple lick on the tip of his dick before pulling away. He tastes different than you were expecting, salty and musky. Not bad, however.

“Good, good,” he praises you. “Swirl your tongue around now. And don’t be afraid to be a little messy.”

Again, following his command, you swirl your tongue around the blushed tip. It’s so soft and smooth under your tongue. Joel shudders and bites back a surprised moan when you dip to drag your tongue from bottom to top. You repeat the motions, alternating between swirling and flicking your tongue at the tip and drawing sloppy stripes up and down.

Gaining a bit of confidence, you take him in your mouth now. Not entirely, not too much. Just enough for him to rest on your tongue as you relish in the new feeling. You toy with him, moving your lips up and down and taking him deeper into your mouth. All of the upset and stress in Joel’s mind disappears with each of your movements.

You decide to experiment a little more and massage his cock with your tongue as you bob your head up and down, going deeper and deeper each time. Once you hollow your cheeks and suck hard, Joel feels his composure slipping from him. You look up at him with big eyes, silently asking for praise. Tell me I’m doing good. Tell me you like this.

Feeling a little overzealous, you push yourself far down on his cock. You gag on his cock and pull away abruptly, coughing and sputtering.

Joel caresses your cheek with his hand as you try to catch your breath. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re new. It’s okay,” he soothes you.“Don’t push yourself, baby. Can I show you something to make it easier?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, slightly embarrassed.

“The hand you got on me there,” he touches your fingers that are wrapped around his member “You can move it up and down and twist it. Just like we did last time, only with your mouth on me. Can you try that for me, baby?”

You take him back into your mouth and pick up where you left off, massaging his tip with your tongue and hollowing your cheeks. Joel guides your hand and encourages you to twist it and move it up and down he instructed. Once you get a steady rhythm going, he lets you do your thing.

Joel reaches for your other hand and takes it in his own as you continue your work. He’s panting and doing his best to hold back moans, but a few slip out here and there. “Oh, Christ,” he chokes out. “More, just like that,”

You oblige, increasing your speed and maintaining a steady rhythm. His hips are bucking into you now. He hasn’t felt the soft wetness of a woman’s mouth in ages, and he’s fighting the urge to lose control. And you, so new to the art of pleasure, are an absolute dream. There’s some awkwardness here and there, sure. But your big eyes, eager for his praise, combined with your steady movements. You’re perfect.

Joel slides his fingers through your scalp and tugs on your strands, pushing you down slightly. He knows the gentlemanly thing to do would be to let you continue at your own pace, not push you farther than you’re ready for, but he can’t help it. He wants to fuck your mouth hard and fast, watch you cry and gag on him. He can feel himself wanting to ruin you. It’s barbaric, but knowing he’s the only man you’ve experienced turns him on. He wants you to be his and his alone.

It’s almost too much, the way he pushes you down and fucks your mouth. But you’re determined to make this good for him, and you enjoy the challenge.

Joel squeezes your hand hard a couple times, asking for your attention. “I’m gettin’ close now, baby,” he warns. You just blink at him, continuing your movements.

Joel combats his desire to come in your mouth, on your face. He desperately wants to watch his spend drip from your plump and reddened lips, but he knows better. It could be too much for you, might spook you. If you want to explore that later on, he’ll help you. He tugs at your hair a little roughly to make you pull off of him, then starts stroking his dick furiously. You whine a little at the loss.

His eyes are screwed shut and he’s panting, emanating pure sex and masculinity. He feels his orgasm right around the corner. He opens his eyes then, meeting your adoring gaze. The intensity of the eye contact sends him over the edge, and he squeezes your hand as he comes. His touch is comforting, gracious, almost as if to thank you. The milky white liquid drips down his hand and his cock, and you wonder for a second before reaching forward to drag some of his spend onto your finger and push it into your mouth.

Joel watches you in shock and amazement as you taste his come. “You’re adventurous, aren’t you?”

“Well, I abandoned the cabin where I grew up to join two strangers on their journey, right?” you teased. Joel shrugged in response. You got up then, walked into the kitchen to wet a towel, and returned. Gently, you cleaned the mess he made and discarded the towel.

“That’s usually the man’s job, sweetheart,” he tells you. “He makes the mess, he cleans it up.”

“I told you I wanted to take care of you tonight, though,”

“And I told you that’s not how this is supposed to work. I take care of you,” he chastised you with a whisper.

“Would you shut up?” you giggled. “I liked it. I had fun. Didn’t you?”

“Of course I did, sweetheart. But I-” he trailed off then, looking almost sorry.

“But you what?”

“I got a little rough with you. Pullin’ your hair and that. Shouldn’t’ve,” he spoke curtly.

“I’m not gonna break,” you responded.

Joel knew he wouldn’t break you then, that wasn’t what was wrong. It It was the fact that he wanted to break you. Not then, not even now. But eventually. He could feel himself fighting the need to ruin you. And you, your eyes filled with devotion and your lips longing to please him. You weren’t gonna make this easy.

He promised you safety and comfortability, and he was determined to deliver, even if that meant never touching you again. If he had his way with you, he’d be no better than the men he warned you of.

Joel was silent. He was never good at apologies, and he knew you didn’t need one. Still, he offered you a quiet apology with his eyes, so full of sorrow. Some minutes passed, then he spoke.

“I gotta tell you about Ellie,” he whispered, very slowly. You didn’t say anything, just let him talk. You assumed he was going to explain whatever had both Joel and Ellie crying. “When we met you, I told you that we were comin’ up here to find my brother.” Joel recalled quietly.

“Right,” you muttered.

Joel paused, as if thinking of how to speak. “And that was true. But Ellie, she’s why I’m all the way out here. She’s immune,”

Your eyes widened. Immune? How? Your parents told you that cordyceps wiped out most of the population. It was how the world was destroyed. To your knowledge, immunity to cordyceps was a pipe dream. You opened your mouth to speak, but Joel beat you to it.

“There’s some Firefly base that thinks they can use her for a cure. Run her blood through a machine or somethin’,” Firefly? You wondered. You didn’t interrupt, though. You could ask questions later. Joel continued, “I made a promise to a woman I loved to get her out there, try to make the world better. Make up for all the shit we did.”

You tensed in jealousy at the thought of Joel loving another woman. Quickly, you shoved that feeling aside. He was in his fifties, of course he’d loved someone before. Stupid.

You wondered what shit Joel had done that he had to make up for. He was kind to you, but you knew he probably wasn’t always the nicest guy. You remembered the way he broke into that older couple’s home and threatened them for directions.

Joel interrupted your thoughts. “I’m gettin’ older. I’m losin’ my hearing. I snuck off with Tommy a few hours ago and asked him to get her there for me,” he explained. “We had a couple of close calls before we met you. She’s seen and experienced so much she shouldn’t have. I don’t wanna fail this girl.” Tears began to well in Joel’s eyes.

You nodded at his words. “So then what?” you asked expectedly.

“So Ellie overheard and she’s pissed at me. Thinks I’m ditchin’ her,” he grumbled. “We argued upstairs. I said somethin’ pretty hurtful.”

“So that’s why she’s crying,” you whispered, understanding the situation now. You took Joel’s hand and rubbed soft circles again.

“I’m all she’s got,” he turned to you then, meeting your eyes. “She’s an orphan, didn’t have many people in her life. Lost most of ‘em. I’m all she’s known for–” he paused, thinking, “Shit. A long time now,”

“You’ve kept her safe, been her friend. Sounds like you’re the only person she’s been able to depend on,”

Joel nodded at your words. “I still think she’d be better off with Tommy, he’s healthier and stronger. But tomorrow morning I’m gonna let her choose what she wants,”

“It’s not gonna be much of a choice, then. She’s gonna pick you, you know,” you whispered. Your heart sank at the idea of where this is heading.

“I know,”

“So that means,” you started, your heart beginning to fracture and split. You couldn’t continue the sentence.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “You’re welcome to join us, could probably use the help. You’re smart, strong. But I know that wouldn’t be fair to ask of you.”

Your mouth twitched as your eyes began to fill with tears. Yes, of course you want to go with Joel and Ellie. But giving up Jackson and everything you’ve dreamed of for years? “So I’m not gonna ask you,” Joel said. “You’re gonna stay here, where you’re safe and happy, and I’m gonna take Ellie.”

Your tears began falling. How bittersweet this all was. You wished you didn’t get attached to Joel, but here you were. You didn’t know if it was love or what, but the way your heart ached and how your chest burned, maybe it was.

Joel wiped your tears with care before continuing. “And I am gonna come back, you’re gonna cook me more delicious chicken and potatoes like when I broke into your home,” you let out a mix of a sob and a giggle at the memory. It felt so long ago now. “And I’m gonna teach you how to shuffle a deck of cards and play Gin Rummy.”

“Promise?”

“I promise you,” he whispered.

You fell asleep next to Joel that night, head resting on his shoulder. You never let go of his hand. In the morning he asked for your help readying a horse for his trek.

Once Tommy and Ellie made their way to the stables, you knew it was time.

“You guys came here to say goodbye or something?” Ellie asked with a slight venom in her voice.

“No,” Joel said. “I came here to steal one of these horses and go.”

“I woulda’ gave you one,” Tommy said.

Joel turned his attention from the horse. “I know,” he replied. Then, turning to Ellie, he said, “Anyway, that was a while ago and I guess…”

Joel took a few steps closer to Ellie before continuing. “You deserve a choice. I still think you’d be better off with Tommy–”

“Let’s go,” Ellie interrupted him by shoving her bag into his arms.

“Okay,” was all Joel said. He nodded at Tommy, then looked at you. He led the horse out of the stables and helped Ellie mount it. He moved towards you and Tommy, snow crunching under his boots. After asking for directions, he hugged Tommy. “Can I borrow that?” he asked, pointing to Tommy’s rifle.

Tommy pulled the rifle off of his shoulder. “Yeah,”

“‘Cause Maria took mine, you know.”

“Already said yes, Joel,”

Then he turned to you.

“Be safe,” you told him. Oh, how you hated this. You knew nothing good was out there. You prayed silently that Ellie and Joel would stay safe, that nothing bad would happen. They’ll make a cure and come right back. You won’t be missing them for years. You won’t grow old wondering whatever happened to Joel and Ellie, the strangers who broke into your home. Please stay safe.

Joel pulled you in for a hug, then kissed the top of your head. You wished he kissed your lips, but you knew he wouldn’t. He wasn’t yours. Not really, anyway.

And then they were off.

@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @venusdemonroe @guiltgoldglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore

(if your @ has a strikethrough, tumblr wouldn't let me tag :( sorry!)

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david-lynch-pin · 2 years ago

Text

Sweetest Perfection: Mercy in You

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Living on your own after your parents' passing about a year ago, you're lonely and often fantasize about having a community, friendships, relationships, and sex. To cope with your thoughts, you often bury yourself in books, your favorite being romance novels. When you meet Joel and Ellie, an opportunity for normalcy and human connection is presented to you, just like you've been yearning for.

Based on this request: “Female reader. Somewhere in her late twenties/early thirties. Both parents recently died and now she's trying to survive on her own. Her parents taught her everything about survival, but next to nothing about men. About sex. That is about to change when Joel finds her. He teaches her everything. Gentle at first....but not so much at the end 😇” -@pedrotonin

Warnings: Slow burn, brief smut, dangerous situations, parental death. Implied age gap. Will add more as the story progresses.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I altered a few things to fit my style but this is my take! It will definitely be a multi chapter story, there's just no way I could make it a one shot. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged!

Chapter One: Mercy in You

I would do it all again Lose my way and fall again Just so I could call again On the mercy in you, the mercy in you

You didn’t intend on meeting him. You didn’t intend on meeting anyone for the rest of your life. You were completely fine by yourself before you met the two of them. Your parents taught you everything you needed to know about the world. How to hunt, how to shoot, how to set traps. The best and safest ways to defend yourself against Infected. You could write and draw, but mostly you spent your time with your nose deep in a book about two people falling in love. Those were your favorite. You were entirely self-sufficient when you met him, more than content in your little cabin with your romance novels.

She throws her head back, moaning loudly as he flattens his tongue against her wetness, dragging it from the bottom all the way to the top where he sucks gently on her clit.

“Oh, god, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

He slides his middle and ring fingers inside her now, flicking upward and hitting the spot that makes her head spin. The pleasure is building inside her, threatening her to spill over the edge.

“That’s it baby, that’s it. Come for me now,”

Her moans pick up, faster and throatier. “Fuck,” she whimpers clutching the sheets and bucking her hips into his mouth. “I’m right there, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” She pulses around his fingers, moans and obscenities filling the room as she reaches—

The slam of your front door commands your attention away from your book. Looking up, you quickly grabbed your gun from your waistband and pointed it at the man who stood in front of you. “Get the fuck out of my cabin,” you demand, hands trembling slightly as you stare him down.

He’s dangerously handsome and confident. Waltzed into your cabin like he owned it. So fucking handsome, you thought. Long legs, tan skin. Sad and deep brown eyes framed just so by soft wrinkles. His hair, mousy brown and sprinkled with silver and white, his patchy salt and pepper beard. Quite a few years older than yourself, but absolutely gorgeous all the same. Something had awoken inside you the minute you laid eyes on him.

He’s with a girl, much shorter and younger than him with wavy brown hair pulled into a ponytail. She also has brown eyes, but not like his. She has very fair skin and is wearing a green jacket and red shirt.

“Leave my cabin,” you commanded him and the girl, pointing a gun at him. “Leave and I won’t hurt you.”

The man and girl raised their hands above their heads. The girl looked at the man nervously, and he hushed her. “It’s okay, Ellie,” he hushes her.

“I’m Joel, this is Ellie,” he said to you. “We didn’t expect anyone to be here. It’s cold and sleeting out there and we need some rest. We were just hopin’ to sleep tonight and be on our way in the morning.”

You were surprised they even found you out here. Your cabin was far away from any city, far away from Infected and raiders. “Not happening,” you told him. “Shoo.”

“Look, we can trade. Warm bed for some food?” Joel reached into his pack and pulled out a can of Chef Boyardee. He looked gaunt and desperate, and so did she. Probably hadn’t had a proper meal in forever. You paused for a moment, remembering what your parents told you. Just because it’s the end of the world doesn’t mean you have to stop being kind. Be smart, but take care of others, the way we take care of you.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. A twenty year old can of shitty pasta? “Ew, no thanks,” you narrowed your eyes at the two of them. “Put your weapons out of reach and sit down at the table,” you demanded, still pointing your gun at the two of them.

They did as they were told, eyeing you intently as they made their way to sit at the kitchen table. You walked to the counter, pulled out three plates and some silverware and filled each with chicken and roasted potatoes. You set two plates down in front of Joel and Ellie and returned with your own. “Eat up and you can sleep in the living room. Don’t even think about trying anything stupid, I will be watching you both all night,”

Ellie sighed in relief. “Fucking thank you! Oh my God, thank you. You have no idea how shitty it is out there,”

“Ellie!” Joel gritted his teeth at her. “Let’s be polite, now,” He looked at you apologetically. “Thank you darlin’ , we appreciate this. We’ll be out of your hair tomorrow. Sorry for her heathen vocabulary.”

You smiled gently. “I have a sailor’s mouth too, I’m not offended. What brings you two all the way out here anyway?”

“We’re on our way to find my brother, heard he’s at a settlement up in Wyoming near Jackson,” Joel says. “Weather got crappy and Ellie spotted your cabin, so here we are. Sorry for imposin’. We really didn’t think anyone would be all the way out here,” Joel says sheepishly. Boy, he did not like this. He hates not being in complete control of the situation. But here he was, in your home, at your table, eating your delicious food. He could negotiate aggressively like his usual self, but he was exhausted. And he didn’t want to kill you. He had to play nice.

“It’s okay,” you told him. “I like the company.”

A few hours pass, and you let Joel and Ellie both take some much needed hot baths. Ellie is sleeping on the couch. She’s covered in a knitted blanket you lent her and snoring gently. Joel hasn’t gone to sleep yet, he’s with you at the table, watching her. The two of you are quiet, the only sounds filling the room are the patter of the sleet on the windows and Ellie’s soft snoring.

Joel breaks the silence first. “Just you out here, I take it? No boyfriend or nothin’?”

“Yeah. It was me and my parents, but I think they passed about a year ago. Not sure. All I know is that they left to get me more books and never came back,” you frowned at the memory, knowing something awful had to have happened to them. God, you missed them. Your father, and all of his silly jokes. Your mother’s hugs and warm smiles. Your parents would have never left you on your own, they told you so many times that the three of you would always stick together. They loved you and you loved them. “And uh, no. No boyfriend,” you add, although Joel probably already guessed that.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Joel said quietly, thinking of his own lost family. Flashes of his late daughter’s curly brown hair and bright hazel eyes filling his mind.

“I’m really lonely, honestly,” you said.

“I’d imagine,” Joel offered you a sympathetic look.

You clasp your hands together, looking around the room. You know what you want to ask Joel but don’t know if you have the courage to do it. Truthfully, your heart began racing at Joel’s mention of the settlement, and it hadn’t stopped racing. Forget the strangers in your home, all your mind can focus on is that settlement. You longed for community, safety, family, friendships, relationships. Love.

A few moments pass as you build up courage. Finally, you blurt it out.“Take me with you,”

Joel raises his eyebrows at you. “Take you with me?” he repeats.

“I’m all alone out here, Joel. I hate it. I’m miserable, I miss human interaction. Please, take me with you. I don’t want to be alone anymore,” you beg. You’ve lied to yourself for long enough. You’re not content and fine all by yourself. You don’t want to be alone. You really don’t. Sure, you can survive on your own just fine. Physically, at least. But you know you can’t take the loneliness much longer. If you knew of anywhere else to go, you would have by now. But you don’t. So, here it is, your opportunity to find what your heart so deeply yearns for.

Joel sighs, wondering how that would work out. You’re kind, generous, and he’s more than grateful for your hospitality. But does he really need more human cargo? But then he realizes it might not be the worst thing in the world to bring you with. You’ve been out here for a long time all by yourself and seem to be doing fine. You’re certainly skilled and a vigilant survivor. And after Ellie lost Henry and Sam, he knew she could use another friend closer to her age.

“I can shoot, hunt, and cook. I can sew. I won’t be a burden, just please help me get to the settlement,” you interrupt his thinking.

Joel is hesitant to say yes, but he sees the pleading look in your eyes. If you wanted to kill him you would have done so already, he thinks. He’s still a little suspicious of you, like he is with all strangers. Finally, he says it. “Okay. We’ll take you. Pack up, and we’ll leave first thing in the morning,”

You wrap your arms around him excitedly, taking him by surprise. A cute, pinky blush creeps up his cheeks and he’s thankful Ellie doesn’t see. She would ruthlessly tease him for weeks if she did. Oh. So she’s a hugger, he thinks. He doesn’t mind, though. Intimacy is hard to find in the apocalypse. He’d never say no to a beautiful girl like you showing him some affection. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles as he pats your back.

“Thank you, Joel! Oh my God, thank you,”

You pack all of your best weapons and as much food as you can manage. You pack some clothes and your favorite books, your mother’s wedding ring, and your father’s watch. Warmth fills your chest when you think of them. You know they’re watching over you, your guardian angels. Clutching the precious items in your hand, you silently pray to your parents for a safe future. You grab some spare clothes and items for Ellie and Joel as well, your way to say thank you.

It’s so close you can almost taste it. Here it is, lying right in front of your fingertips. Community, safety, family, friendships, relationships.

Love.

Sex.