#(sarah snorts when she laughs)

[noxexistant]

in my heart all three of the jacobs siblings are just so weird. absolute weirdos (affectionate). into weird stuff and shameless about it, do not know how to Properly interact with anyone in any context, just overall Too Much. off-putting. loud. and they are so damn loved.

[rafecameroninterlude]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: ❝the summer’s hot, and i’ve been waiting for you all this time.❞ — rafe finally comes back home from his two-month long family vacation, surprising you in the middle of the night.

warnings: established relationship, ward overhears you and rafe on the phone, dry humping, heavy petting, oral (f receiving), face sitting, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, unprotected sex

word count: 2.3k

a/n: it literally makes me so happy when i see the feedback you guys give me, especially when you show your support by reblogging or simply liking. i love and appreciate every single one of you <333 series masterlist

“you’re actually lying.” tears were already forming in your eyes as rafe spoke on the other line. “i wish i was, baby. we were supposed to fly back in this morning but some weather shit got in the way, so we’re kinda stuck here until they let us know when there’s another flight available.” you sighed, trying your best to keep your voice from shaking. “have you asked the airport people already?” there was a slight pause before rafe answered.

“they said it could be weeks since the hurricanes here get pretty crazy.” weeks?! you thought you could die right now. “i’m so mad my parents didn’t let me go.” the tears were falling now. you and rafe had never been apart for this long. with all the built up anticipation, you couldn’t help but get youreself excited and hopeful about seeing him today, just for all of it to come crashing down with a single phone call. “i wish you were here too, babe. i got you a bunch of stuff from the shopping centers here, i think you’ll love it.” you wanted to cry harder because of how sweet he was.

“aww, you didn’t have to do that for me, baby.” you cooed, your heart fluttering in your chest when you heard the smile in his voice. “at least you’re going on winter vacation with me.” you nodded, trying to stay as positive as you can. “that’s true. i can’t help but to think my parents are trying to torture me or something,” you laughed, “they heard the words ‘shared hotel room’ and freaked out.” rafe shook his head even though you couldn’t see him. “they did, right?” he glanced at the tv, the weather report still the same.

“yeah, but rightfully so i guess. could you imagine if we shared a room for two months?” you bit your lip at the idea. “it’s a good thing we didn’t tell them that we’d have a whole cabin to ourselves in december.” you shut your eyes for a moment, wishing so bad that you could speed up the time. “you need to come back to me already. i’m sad and horny.” rafe snorted at your words. “hey, at least we know we could have amazing phone sex.” before you could respond, you heard what sounded like ward in the background.

“come on, rafe. seriously man?” you gasped, shooting up from your bed. “rafe! i thought you were somehwere private!” your cheeks were on fire with how hard you were blushing right now. “tell ward i said hi.” rafe did as you asked, a muffled ‘hey, sweetheart.’ sounding on the other line. “wheezie and sarah there?” as if you could be anymore mortified right now. “nah, they went to a gift shop with rose.” thank, god. “well, i told lia that i’d go with her to the beach for a little, so i better start getting ready.” you put him on speaker, opening your drawer that had all your bikini’s in it.

“all right, i’m gonna let you go babe,” rafe sighed, “i’ll update you as soon as i find something out.” you chose a top, and grabbed a pair of jean shorts as you started changing. “okay. i’ll see you soon, love you.” you smiled when he kissed the mic. “i love you more, i’ll talk to you later.” you hung up, feeling slightly better after hearing his voice. it didn’t take you long to pack your beach tote, lia picking you up soon after.

you spent the rest of the day with your friend, both of you taking pictures and reading your books. “wanna stay the night at mine? i could really go for some pizza right now.” lia pouted as she pulled into your driveway. “i wish. i have to go to breakfast with my family tomorrow.” she put the car in park, looking at you apologetically. “oh, that’s right! it’s okay, hang tomorrow afterwards?” you grabbed your bag from the backseat. “for sure. i’ll call you when i get home.” she nodded, in which you waved. “hey! send me the pictures we took!” you shouted as she rode off.

“hey, guys,” you greeted your parents as you closed the front door behind you. they were curled up on the couch watching a movie. “hey!” your mom whispered, not wanting to wake your father who was resting his head on her lap. they always looked so cute together. “i’m gonna go shower. goodnight.” you walked past them, eagerly waiting to check your phone to see if you had any messages from rafe.

[2:32 PM] loml <3: still the same bs. i’ll try to call you again tonight

you gasped at the timestamp. that was hours ago. it was about ten o’clock now, and you were definitely feeling the effects of your activities today.

[10:02 PM] y/n: superrr sleepy rn, i’ll still answer if you call bb

you waited until the message delivered and quickly got in the shower. after washing your hair and rinsing yourself off, you changed into an oversized t-shirt and called it a night. you don’t know how long you’d been asleep for, but your eyes were fluttering open as you felt your bed dip beside you.

your heart dropped when you saw a dark figure looming over you, a loud gasp escaping your lips. before you could scream, a large hand covered your mouth. your eyes widening as you starting hitting the person against their chest. “baby, it’s me! it’s me!” you stopped as soon as you heard his voice, rafe’s hand slowly moving away from your face. “what the hell!” you whispered, immediately throwing your arms around him. “how are you here right now?” you reached over, turning on the small lamp on your nightstand.

the soft light barely did anything to illuminate the space, but your heart skipped a beat once you could make out his features. you stared at each other for a few moments before he took your lips into a searing kiss. “fuck, i missed you so much.” he leaned all his body weight on top of you, the feeling nearly bringing you to tears. “two months, rafe. never again.” you scolded him, letting him settle between your thighs. “my dad pulled some strings and we were able to come back today. just landed like an hour ago.” he could barely talk as he kissed you inbetween his words.

the reality of the situation made you stop, your body freezing underneath him. “what?” he looked at you confused. “my parents are here! how did you even get in?” you scrambled to get up, locking your door before you could get caught. when you turned around, rafe was laying flat on your mattress, a sliver of skin poking out from under his t-shirt. “my key. they were knocked out cold on the couch, so i just snuck up here.” he propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes falling to your bare thighs. “you wearing anything underneath that?” you smiled before shaking your head and lifting up the hem of your shirt teasingly. “no.” rafe’s gaze darkened as he watched you straddle him.

“why?” his hands ran up your thighs, squeezing the flesh before they settled on your hips. you shrugged. “just wanted to be ready for you.” rafe could already feel his cock hardening with your words alone. “yeah?” he dragged your hips against his, your naked cunt rubbing against his shorts. “fuck,” you whimpered, letting your head fall to the side as you balanced yourself on your palms. “i missed hearing that. missed seeing you like this.” he took the shirt off of you, marveling at the sight of your bare figure on top of him.

“i want you to get yourself off on me,” rafe splayed a hand over your stomach, “wanna watch you move.” you grabbed his hand, placing his middle and ring fingers in your mouth, your hips grinding against him. “you’re so fucking perfect, ‘don’t know how i made it two months without you.” you moaned, sucking his digits while you started a steady rhythm. you knew you were overly sensitive because of how long it’d been without him here, but you couldn’t help the aftershocks that came with your clit rubbing against his hard on.

rafe groaned, knowing he wouldn’t last too long like this. while he spewed out the most filthy things you’ve ever heard, you sped up, desperate to reach the high you were so close to. rafe screwed his eyes shut, stopping you just before he could cum in his shorts. the sound of both of you trying to catch your breaths filtered throughout your room as you blinked down at him. “i was so close,” you pouted, clenching around nothing. “ride my face.” your eyes widened. “what?” rafe grabbed you by your waist, a yelp leaving your lips as he held you above his mouth.

you shuddered when you felt his breath fanning against the inside of your thighs. “are you su- fuck!” you cried when you felt his tongue where you ached for him the most. “oh my god, rafe,” he was quick to interwine his fingers with yours, holding you tightly so you couldn’t move away. this was new for both of you, but rafe was quickly realizing that watching you with your jaw slacked and greedily chasing his tongue with your hips was becoming his new favorite view.

he moaned against your soaked cunt, the slight vibration making your eyes roll back. “r-rafe!” your hips stuttered as you felt the sweet release of pure euphoria wash over you. rafe held you tighter against him, his tongue attacking your clit as you shook uncontrollably. two months of phone sex could never compare to the real thing, your breaths becoming labored as rafe laid you down. “i’m gonna fuck you senseless.” rafe kissed you, your wetness still on his lips as he did so. just as you pulled away, a knock sounded from your bedroom door.

“y/n, is everything okay honey?” your eyes widened as rafe took the opportunity to roll one of your nipples between his fingers, your face burying in his chest to muffle the moan that left your mouth. “i-i’m okay! just.. cramps!” rafe trailed sloppy kisses across your neck, smiling against your skin as you struggled to formulate a single sentence. “aw i hope you feel better, call me if you need anything, love.” you waited until her footsteps receeded down the hallway before you smacked rafe playfully. “you’re terrible!” you laughed.

he took off his shirt, his muscles on full display as he discarded his shorts. fuck, he was glorious. “yeah, but you love me.” you smiled as he slotted himself between your legs, shivering once you felt his cock sit between your folds. “i do love you.” rafe ran his fingers through your hair, caging you between his arms as he slid into you, a moan sounding from both your mouths. you stretched around him so deliciously, rafe’s head resting in the crook of your neck.

“is that my favorite body wash?” he looked up, pecking your jaw when you nodded. “something told me to use it tonight.” your eyes fluttered shut when rafe pulled out, pushing back into you as he hooked your thigh around his waist. “this is all i could think about over there,” he sighed, “i just wanted to feel this perfect pussy squeezing around me.” you mewled at his words, your nails digging into his shoulders. “did you think about me, baby?”

you nodded, your back arching into his chest. “fuck, yes. i missed having you on top of me, ‘missed taking your cock.” he groaned, lightly wrapping a hand around your neck as his pace sped up. rafe adjusted you so your head was resting on top of his arm as he kissed you roughly. his thrusts were unforgiving, soon the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in your room. with the way the head of his cock was stroking that soft spot inside you, you couldn’t bring yourself to care if you were being too loud. you started meeting his thrusts, your clit meeting his pubic bone.

“you’re doing so fucking good for me.” he panted, his breath fanning your cheeks. you wrapped your arms around his neck, crying out into his skin. “don’t stop!” he covered your mouth, shushing you as he fucked into you relentlessly. “i got you, baby. ‘gonna fill up this pretty cunt with my cum.” you whimpered, tears welling in your eyes as you felt your second orgasm nearing. with a couple more thrusts, you found yourself falling over the edge, your climax hitting you in waves of pure ecstasy. “oh, fuck,” rafe’s jaw was clenched as he suppressed the groan that threatened to rip itself from his throat.

you reveled in the feeling of his seed spilling into you, his eyebrows knitting in pleasure as he continued to move sloppily. “fuck, i don’t think i ever came that hard before.” he removed his hand, allowing you to take a full breath. you sighed, curling into your boyfriend as he plopped down beside you. “i missed this the most.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, his fingers tracing shapes into your side. you smiled softly, draping an arm across his torso. “i could fall asleep like this..” rafe’s voice was hoarse, both of you yawning at the same time.

“me too,” you started, “i’m gonna go grab some water real quick, i’ll be right back.” he pulled you down for another kiss before letting you get up. you poked your head outside your door, slipping on a shirt and a pair of underwear before slipping out. you tiptoed down the stairs, walking into the kitchen where your mother sat with her laptop. “oh-” you smiled awkwardly, getting two water bottles out of the fridge. your mom looked up at you from her spot at the kitchen island.

“i take it that rafe is back from vacation? you’re lucky i left the volume up on the tv.”

[seventeenpins]

a slight miscalculation - pt. i

pairing: Joel x F!Reader

word count: 8.3k

summary: Sarah is off to college, and Joel is about to be living in an empty nest. They road trip out together, and as she spends her first night in her new apartment, he's staying in a nearby hotel. Letting go of his inhibitions for the first time in a long time, he tumbles into a one night stand that becomes very complicated, very quickly.

content/warnings: smut, age gap, mycologist!reader, dick sucking, implied pussy eating, fingering, no outbreak au, reader likes to hike, reader also infodumps, joel miller has a big cock, he also has anxiety, reader has anxiety too, and a cat, reader is in early 20s--exact age not established, one (1) use of daddy, alcohol and weed consumption, joel is a diligent condom wearer, set in present day, discussion of girl scout cookies, joel is sweet and soft and hasn't been eviscerated by the death of his daughter

a/n: I'm intending this to be about five parts. This may change, but right now it's looking like five. I've been struggling to write for a while, unable to focus, but I think I'm back at it? as always, your feedback is hugely appreciated, and i'm kissing all likers and commenters and rebloggers deeply and with tongue 🩷

check out pt. ii

For the first time in nineteen years, Joel is completely adrift. Sarah's starting college in just two months.

It's the kind of realization that hits him like a bucket of ice water, a sudden shock and then an unpleasant trickling of anxiety wrapping about him in nasty tendrils. And then he feels guilty, because he's so, so happy for Sarah because he knows that she's thrilled, but fuck she's gonna be two time zones away and now what's Joel meant to do on Thursday movie nights when he's here without her?

It's terrifying, and it's new. And it's not that he's new to anxiety. He's usually anxious, and he has the Sertraline on his bedside stand to prove it. But if his general anxiety baseline usually hovered around a 6.4, where he was at now far surpassed a 10. It felt exponential, and totally exhausting.

When he voices his fears to Tommy, to Joel's horror, Tommy just doubles over in laughter.

"Jesus, Joel," he wheezes, wiping fake tears from his eyes in exaggerated movements, "You looked so serious I thought you were gonna say you'd killed someone."

Joel scowls. "The fuck you laughing for?"

"She's going to college, it's not like she's dying!"

"How'm I gonna be there for her? What if she needs me? What if-"

"Joel-," Tommy pats him gently on the shoulder, "She can always call you, and you can always call her. And we both know she's got a good head on 'er shoulders."

Joel snorts in concession. "Yeah, yeah. Better than yours and mine put together, and then some."

"Exactly." Tommy agrees, "And if there's ever anything that really goes wrong, you got me. We can drive out together and make sure she's okay."

Joel nods and feels the tiniest bit of tension leave him. One step at a time.

Just over nineteen years ago he found out he was about to be a dad. Suddenly, he had a purpose. Having a kid at twenty-two wasn't something he'd ever intended, but somehow he knew he loved his baby girl from the moment he knew she was a possibility. He spent a solid seven months running around, hustling, doing everything he could to get the very best for his kid. He'd take on doubles, working himself to the bone to make sure they had the best crib, and the best stroller, too. He was thrilled and terrified and so, so green.

Now, his heart feels so big he doesn't know how to handle it. His baby girl is an honest-to-god adult, moving out and going to college, and he has no idea what he's gonna do with his time now.

He has work, of course. But beyond that? He's really gotta to widen his circle, he realises, because who's he gonna hang out with? His brother?

He'd only just turned forty-one and had absolutely not come to terms with an empty nest--the few friends from high school he'd kept in touch with were so much further behind than him. The ones that had kids had them later in their twenties and thirties, and now they're raising middle schoolers while Joel's kid is a real fucking person, leaving home and everything. All the scrapping and saving he'd been doing since before Sarah was born–for his little girl to be able to follow any dream she chose–it was finally paying off. The precocious young woman she is, she graduated early and spent nearly a year working retail to save up some cash. She'd applied to colleges all across the country, and a few international ones, too. Joel had been crossing his fingers for months, hoping she'd choose something near Austin, but cheered with her all the same when she got her acceptance letter from Oregon State University. The previous summer, just before she'd started her applications, she and Joel and Tommy spent a miserable, wonderful week hiking round the Pacific Northwest. She fell in love with it, and the university offered a few of the majors she wanted to consider.

Joel didn't know what he'd do with his baby girl so far away, his life, his reason, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell her that. He will not clip her wings. His baby's gonna change the world and he's not gonna hold her back. He is, though, gonna require regular phone calls and check-ins and god they grow up so fast.

"Y'all should road trip out there," Tommy suggests one night over the dinner table.

Joel knew the conversation of how Sarah would get to the West Coast would come up, and it oughta be sooner rather than later. He was half afraid that she wanted to head out on her own, that she didn't need her dad anymore. Worried she would say she wanted to get a plane ticket, or take the Amtrak all the way to Corvallis. But he knows he needs to loosen his grip a little, so he braces himself when he turns to her.

"What'dya think, Sarah? You wanna be stuck in a car with your old man for a cross-country trip?"

Sarah rolls her eyes, but her face breaks into a grin. "Can we, Dad?"

This was too good to be true, he knew, but he wasn't gonna give up one last opportunity to spend some time with his girl till winter break.

"Course, baby," he tells her, and that flicker of anxiety quells just the tiniest bit.

The next few weeks fly by, and the knot of anxiety in Joel's chest feels like it's consuming him from the inside out. He's taken some time off, more than Sarah or Tommy can remember, but he's constantly trying to suggest ideas for activities to Sarah. For the most part, she's a good sport, understanding how much it means to her dad. She took pity on him, and let him drag her to places that ideally she would've gone to when she was little, but she humored him and he appreciated her dedication. He did his best to step back when she was heading out to spend time with friends--her time here was limited, after all, and she was always a social butterfly.

There are five weeks till classes start, four weeks, three, two, and in the blink of an eye, they're loading up the truck with all of Sarah's things, and Tommy is hugging Sarah goodbye, teary eyed. He gives Joel a hug, too. Joel would never admit it, but fuck he had really needed that hug.

They would take the scenic route. Make a memorable trip of it. Joel would make sure she settles in safe and sound, and then he'd head home.

6am Sunday.

You wake with a start. It's just over a week before term starts and your entire body aches. Fuck, you think to yourself, definitely overdid it with that last hike.

(The hiking part wasn't itself a problem, but one of the trails had washed out. You thought you'd found your way, but the "easy" three and a half mile hike took about five hours, leaving your calves bruised and your heels blistered.)

You roll over in your hotel room bed and, at the sound of a slight yelp followed by a gentle thud, realise with a sudden start that you just catapulted your cat off the corner.

"Shit, sorry goblin," you tell Spatula, who glares up at you with disdain as he licks at his paw. You reach down and, despite your inadvertent cat launch, he immediately rubs up against your fingertips and lets you scratch behind his ears.

"I'm sorry, baby," you soothe.

He meows, loudly. Howls, really. You take it as an apology accepted.

You sit up properly and look at your phone calendar. Nothing immediate. You don't need to get keys to your new apartment till tomorrow, nor do you meet your roommates till then–they're both moving in today, and moving is already horrible without having to navigate around the belongings of two other people. No, thanks. You can afford one more night at the hotel, and it'll make everything go that little bit more smoothly tomorrow. Besides, you have a bit of reading you'd like to get through, maybe stock up on non-perishables till you have a full-sized fridge, and get to know the city just a little.

You move gingerly, testing the ache in your muscles as you unfold yourself from the position you've been sat in and pull yourself from the bed. It hurts, but not something that won't be fixed with a little movement.

A plan forms. First, a walk, to try and loosen up your tight muscles. Then, errands. You have a whole list, with everything categorised by store, but then you enter IKEA and exit fifteen minutes later, only to find that five and a half hours have passed and it's evening now.

How was it that IKEA harnessed such a malicious power. How could anything harness that?

You need a fucking break. And a goddamn drink.

"Hey Dad," Sarah calls from the adjacent bedroom as Joel sweats, hauling another box towards her. The drive has been good, but it has been long. His legs ache. His back aches. There are parts of him that he didn't know existed that now ache.

"Yeah?" he calls back.

"Are you sure you're okay with me staying here tonight?"

Joel lets out a breath. He wants to be okay with it. And there's no way his nineteen year old would want to hang out with her dad when she could be spending the very first night in her brand new apartment. But he also wishes she wanted to spend one last night, hanging out in a hotel room with her dad. They could watch shitty movies together. Make the most of the final night before this cataclysmic shift.

But no.

That'd just be him being selfish. He can handle a night by himself. He's gotta handle a whole lotta them soon enough.

"O'course baby," he nods, hoping the smile he's plastered on his face looks totally genuine. "But we're still doin' breakfast in the morning, right?"

She nods, vigorous, and then waves her phone around. "I was looking up places! There's a diner called Tommy's," she laughs, "Wanna try that? 9:30?"

"Let's do it," he smiles, and this one is a little less forced.

"How much more do we have?" Sarah asks, nodding towards the box Joel's still holding.

"Last box," he grunts, "What else can I help with?"

He places the box down and lets out a slight, almost silent whimper. Sarah catches it, though.

"Maybe you should take it easy the rest of the day, Dad," she tells him, "We both know you have old man back."

He rolls his eyes but nods. "Guess you're right," he shrugs, "That my cue to take off?"

Sarah blushes but turns to him sheepishly. "Yeah, I-"

"No need to explain," Joel assures, "I know you must wanna get unpacked and settle in, get to know your roommates an' all."

She jumps up and, almost startling him, wraps her arms around him in a bear hug.

"Love you, dad," she grins, and she squeezes just a little tighter than usual.

He squeezes back, and they both pretend there aren't tears in his eyes.

As you step through the doors of the hotel bar, you decide you like it. The lighting is comfortably low. It's not loud, but it's not quiet, either. Colorful bottles line the shelves, the light of the filament bulbs glinting off the glass in rainbow prisms.

You take a seat at the bar and give a nod of thanks as the bartender passes you a small menu. It's unsurprisingly extortionate, hotel bar and all, but it'll do.

"Old fashioned, please," you tell the bartender, who nods in response. A minute later, he hands you a glass, delivered with a twist of orange and a cherry on top.

With your first sip, you feel your shoulders start to relax and some of the tension loosen from your body. The warmth of the burn envelops you and your stress starts to unravel, leaving only the buzz feeling good.

You order a second, and as the glass is handed to you, a voice to your right catches your attention.

"This seat taken?" a man asks.

You shake your head and offer a quick smile, gesturing towards it, "All yours."

"Much obliged," he nods, and slips into the backless stool next to yours.

The bartender comes over and passes him the same menu, but without looking at it he asks, "Could I get an old fashioned?"

You smile and catch his eye, tipping your glass towards him. "An excellent choice," you praise, "Though if you don't have a sweet tooth, I'd recommend asking Jeff there if he can go easy on the simple syrup."

"Oh yeah?" He asks, and then he leans in conspiratorially. "T'tell you the truth, I do have a bit of a sweet tooth."

You raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Suddenly, he breaks into a grin and it's dazzling.

"Yeah," he laughs, "I've got cookies stashed in secret locations all through my house."

You raise an eyebrow. "If I keep 'em in my pantry, my brother'll find 'em and eat 'em all," he explains, "But ever since my kid was a girl scout, I always get cravings for girl scout cookies, so I buy an armful o'boxes and try and preserve 'em throughout the year, till I can replenish."

"What's your favorite girl scout cookie?"

"Caramel deLites, hands down."

"Oh yeah?"

"Absolutely," he nods.

The bartender, Jeff, sets the man's drink down with a clink. You catch one another's eye and both erupt into a fit of laughter.

You're not even sure what's funny. Maybe it's just been a long day? Maybe the whiskey was getting to you?

Whatever it is, it feels good.

The man takes a sip of his drink and lets out an aaaahh and it's goofy and charming and then he extends his hand.

"Joel," he tells you, "Joel Miller". You shake his hand, introduce yourself, and then take a sip of your own drink.

"So, tell me about yourself," you smile, "You coming from out of town?"

"Yes ma'am," he nods, "Come up here from Austin."

"Texas?"

Joel nods.

"That's a long trip."

"Yeah," he laughs, "It really is."

"So, you're a nice Southern boy, huh?"

"Well," he swishes his glass and tries to bite back a smile, "I don't know that I'd go quite so far, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman."

"That so?" you ask and his blush deepens.

"I... have been known to get up to some trouble, but I like to think I've mellowed in my old age." He gestures at the beautiful little smatterings of silver at his temples, and you cackle.

"Okay, that's hot," you tell him and he chokes, but you keep going, "Old age, though? What are you, like, forty?"

He exhales, chagrined. "Forty-one."

You roll your eyes. "That ain't old."

"It feels it sometimes," he smiles, "My kid is grown. My little brother's married with a kid of his own on the way. My back hurts, pretty much all the time."

You snort. You also notice, without trying to look, that he doesn't have a wedding band. Doesn't have a tan line for one, either. Interesting.

"But more than that," he continues, "I guess I feel- I don't know. A little... aimless?"

"Yeah," you nod, and you let the moment sit. "I get that."

He lets out a little breath, and then turns back to you, focused.

"What about you? Where're you from?"

"Oof," you exhale, "All over. Spent a bit of time on the East coast. The Midwest. Lived a few months in the South, even," you tease as you bump your shoulder into his and he laughs. It's a surprisingly familiar gesture, but miraculously comfortable.

"Ever make it to Texas?"

"Naw," you shake your head, "My time in the South was all in Mississippi. After that I moved out to California, and I've been slowly working my way up the West Coast."

"And what have you been enjoying about the West Coast?" Joel asks.

"The mushrooms," you grin, and Joel frowns.

"Like, the kind you get in a little baggy from the dealer down the street, or-?"

"No," you laugh, "Or, well- Okay, sometimes. Gotta say it is great out here for that, too. But I mean fungus as a whole--mushrooms, mold, yeast, lichen. But I'm most interested in mushrooms. They're just really fuckin' cool, and there's so much we don't understand about them. And, they're delicious."

"Huh," Joel ponders, "T'tell you the truth, I've never thought much about mushrooms, besides enjoying 'em as a pizza topping."

"Most people don't," you agree, "But fuck, like-- Okay, so we know there are over five million types of fungi on Earth, but we've identified less than two percent of them. Some fungus aids decomposition. Some fungus is bioluminescent. Some are known worldwide for their delicious flavours, and others are known by the slow, horrible ways they kill you."

Joel raises his eyebrows, and suddenly you feel a little self conscious.

"Sorry, I do this," you laugh, rubbing at the back of your neck, "I get very excited about fungus and manage to alienate everyone around me."

You half expect him to stand up and walk away.

Instead, though, he leans in closer. "Don't apologise," he tells you, "I'm learning something new. Tell me more?"

"No, I should stop. Otherwise I'll never stop talking," you wince.

"How about just one more fungus fact?"

You sit for a minute, pondering. "This is- well, I guess this is one of the reasons I find fungus so fascinating. So, fungus can't photosynthesise the way that plants do--they can't produce their own food from sunshine, and water, and carbon dioxide. Instead, their mycelium-- they're these thread-like networks--they branch out beneath the earth, seeking out food, growing in the direction where it can find the nutrients it needs and breaking down organic material all around them, sometimes living organisms, as a parasite, and sometimes dead organisms as a decomposer, or both. And it's just- It's this hidden world, that exists right beneath the surface even in some of the extreme places on earth, temperature-wise. And most days, we don't even think about it."

You punctuate your thought with a large swallow of your drink, which is half-watered down now that the ice is melted, and doesn't hit quite as hard as you'd hoped, but then you look up at Joel and he's smiling at you, pensive, and--

"That's- That's actually really interesting."

Before you can respond, though, Joel glances at his watch and balks. It is getting late. "Shit," he shakes his head, "I think I oughta call it a night," he says, pulling back. "Early morning tomorrow, and if I stay at the bar I'll just keep drinkin'."

Fuck. That's a dismissal. Of course you went on too much about mushrooms. You'd fucked this up. You'd thought this was going well, but now it felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. "Oh," you nod, matching his posture, and try to swallow down the sudden wave of disappointment. "Of course. Have a good night, Joel."

Joel stands up and then looks you up and down, considering. It's not brazen, but it isn't shy, either. And then understanding flashes across his face.

"Wait- Sorry, that's not how I meant it." He reaches out towards you and you melt into his touch. "I'm messin' this up." He chuckles, but it sounds pained. "Now look, I don't wanna make any presumptions. And I'm really hopin' I'm not coming off as some--dirty old man. Jesus, I haven't done this in a while. But I'm in room 308."

Your eyebrows shoot up. What you'd taken for disinterest was just--nerves?

"I reckon I'll be awake for a while yet. You're welcome to... drop by."

The disappointment melts, making way for a fluttering in your stomach.

"Twenty minutes," you assure him, "308?"

He nods and he brakes into a sheepish grin, shedding what you now realise had been something of an anxious wince. "308."

You watch him leave. When he's out of sight, you toss back the rest of your watery drink and go to pay your tab, but Jeff tells you it was already settled. You thank him and tuck your shaking hands in your pockets. You feel an electricity running through you as you take the elevator up.

When you get back to your room, you hop into the shower, just to freshen up--you keep your hair dry but scrub your body. Once you're clean, you brush your teeth.

Stepping back out of the en suite, you survey the hotel room. Spatula is lounging on the corner of the bed, entirely uninterested in your movements. You top up his dry food bowl and place a kiss between his ears before slipping out.

When you knock at Joel's door, you hear a slight rustle and clatter and then the door swings open, Joel's staring a little wide-eyed, like he didn't actually expect you to show. He's wearing grey sweats and a Johnny Cash t-shirt that looks like it's been around nearly as long as you have. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, an anxious tell that's desperately endearing.

"C'mon in," he smiles, and you step in, closing the door behind you.

You reach out to cup his face, delighting in the feeling of coarse stubble beneath your fingertips. Your first kiss is chaste. You both lean forward and press your lips to one another gently, exploring.

Then, you let out a little moan and Joel shudders. Heat surges between you, and his hands are cradling your head and brushing your cheek and he's pinning you against the closed door. You're kissing again, nothing chaste remaining, learning the taste of him, his rhythm, the crashing waves of give and take between you.

You wrap one leg around him and smirk when he lets out a throaty groan as you grind against his hard cock. You're pretty sure he's not wearing underwear, the thick bulge seemingly unconstrained in his grey sweats, the whole length pressing against your thigh.

Your head falls back and you let out soft, breathy noises as his lips trace along your collarbone, up your throat, and against that tender little spot behind your ear. When he puts your earlobe between his lips and presses his teeth gently against the skin, your knees go weak and he chuckles, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you up.

"Bed?" he asks, and you breathe yes and then, with a yelp and a throaty chuckle, you're lifted up and spun around and both tumbling into the duvet.

You're grasping at each other, desperate to keep your hands on one another. The only times you part is when you undress, and even then, you're helping each other--pulling the hem of his shirt over his lifted arms, pressing into him as he reaches around and moves to unhook your bra, but then he realises you're not wearing one and lets out a groan, his thumbs brushing alongside the tender skin along your ribs, moving gently as if to cup your breasts, but then he pulls back.

Normally you might wait, do this part slowly, draw out the tease just a little bit longer.

Tonight, though, you're ravenous.

As you fiddle with the buttons of your pants, you tug at the drawstring keeping Joel's sweats on his hips. The bow comes loose in one smooth motion, and he lifts his hips and you pull the sweats down.

Your mouth immediately waters seeing him bare, laid out for you. You watch a bead of precum drip down the head and pool on his belly. The coarse hair of his happy trail glistens with it. He's thick, uncut, and looks painfully hard, his cock head ruddy. "Fuck, you're beautiful," you tell him, and his cheeks redden but he grins. It's boyish, the way he grins, and devastatingly charming.

And, what you're saying is true. His body is gorgeous, something you wish you could sketch. Soft flesh over hard muscle, visible tan lines where his chest and shoulders are noticeably lighter than his arms. The muscles and veins along his throat are driving you absolutely fucking insane as he swallows and looks up at you.

He's got freckles on his shoulders, too, and without thinking, you lower yourself down to kiss at his shoulder. He shakes, just a little, and lets out the most beautiful gasp. It's addictive, pulling these noises from him. You follow the curve of him, giving him a taste of his own medicine--tracing feather-light kisses along his collarbone, up the tendons of his neck, behind his ear. You can feel the blood pulse in his veins as your lips brush along him. Joel goes from panting lightly to full on groaning, rutting his hips up towards you and, frustrated, meeting only air.

"Can I taste you?", you ask, and Joel lets out a half-strangled sound and nods, vigorous.

You scoot back, lower yourself, poke out your tongue and, without any preamble, lick at the slit of his head, tasting the salty, tangy precum.

Joel tips his head back and groans and you decide to be kind. You grasp onto his hips and take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down, inch by inch by inch and now you can feel him at the back of your throat, your saliva dripping down the shaft and collecting in the hair between his thighs.

You bob your head up and down, taking him deeper with each thrust, but your throat is full and there are still inches to go. You relax, doing everything you can to take him deeper, and he starts to thrust up gently.

You let him fuck into your mouth but release one of his hips, allowing him to move as freely as he needs and freeing up your hand, which you shove into your underwear, rubbing furiously at your clit.

It doesn't take much to lose yourself in it, to focus only on the sensation. You're so wet, slick coating your fingers, making the glide that much smoother as you touch yourself. Joel tastes so good, too, the intrusion of his cock the most delicious thing, feeling the way he shudders when you moan, the way he moans when you shudder.

"Fuck-" Joel gasps, and then there's a hand guiding you gently off of him.

You raise an eyebrow. "You okay?"

He swallows, hard, and nods. "More than okay. Felt too fuckin' good."

"Oh yeah?" and you lean down, as if to take him back in your mouth, but he chuckles and pulls you back again.

"It's been... a while. For me. And-" He drags his palm down his face, wearing an almost pained expression. "Christ, you just look too fuckin' good down there, mouth stretched 'round me while you touch yourself. An' it feels too fuckin' good, too. I ain't ready for this to be over yet but if you keep lettin' me fuck your throat like that it's gonna be over real quick. And I wanna feel that pretty pussy myself."

You sit back up and he pulls you towards him so you're straddling him.

"You gonna fuck me, Joel?"

"Yes," he breathes, "Yes, baby, please-"

You do an awkward wobble and then stand up, shedding your pants and letting your panties drop, stepping out of them, one foot and then the other, and the way he's watching you is addictive. He watches you with beautiful eyes, drinking all of you in, and suddenly the moment has changed into one of those quiet, intimate moments where you both exhale a laugh.

You straddle him again, and lean down to kiss him, and the electric current surges up. He grabs you by the jaw, meeting your desperation. His lips on yours are exactly the balm you need and you can taste the whiskey on his breath.

"Feels fucking good," you tell Joel as you slide up and down his length. He's not penetrating you, not yet, but the lips of your pussy are spread and you're gliding along him, feeling his head at your clit and thrusting back till you're nearly seated on his balls.

He watches you, nearly unblinking, drinking it all in. Then, he lets out a groan, and half-sits up, suddenly focused.

"Shit," he closes his eyes in frustration, "I don't have any condoms. Shit shit shit-"

You push him back down and kiss him again. Then, you hop off the bed and sift around in your jean pockets.

"Ah-ha!," you exclaim, once you've found your treasure. Joel raises and eyebrow and you wink. "Saw they were selling them in the lobby. Figured it might be a good idea."

"Shit," Joel laughs, and presses his lips just to the side of your mouth. "Clever girl," he tells you, and a shiver goes up your spine.

He leans to help, but you shoo him away and he watches, entranced, as you neatly open the condom wrapper and, with a small amount of difficulty, roll it down his cock.

"Feeling okay?" You ask him, "Shit, I shoulda gotten the Magnums. Is your dick okay? It's not being choked to death by an inappropriately sized rubber, is it?"

Joel snorts. "We'll manage," he says, and then he grips you by the hips, lines himself up. He draws his knuckles along your cunt and groans, "Fuck, so goddamn wet for me-" and, the moment you look at him and nod, he holds the head of his cock against your drooling lips and presses into you.

It's a big stretch as he lowers you down onto him, the intrusion almost painful, but before you can even take a breath, it melts into absolute pleasure. You've fucked people with longer cocks before, and you've fucked people with girthier cocks before, but never have you fucked someone with a cock that's both this long and thick and it feels like you're being split in two and it's perfect and you realise, with a sudden flip of your stomach, he isn't even fully seated inside you yet.

Then, you manage to focus on the words Joel is saying-that had really just been background noise for the past ten seconds or so-and suddenly you're tuning back in for "Tha's it," his voice low and hoarse, surprisingly gentle, "Good girl, takin' this cock so well, look at you."

His brow is furrowed and he's looking at you with such dark eyes, nearly black, the pupils are so blown. "Just a little more, that's it, just one more inch, you can do it, christ, look at you, takin' all of me."

His tone is reverent and it sets a fire through you. You can feel more slickness build and drip out of you, and from the way he moans, you're certain he can feel it too despite the condom.

"So fuckin' wet," he groans, "Soakin' my cock- grippin' me so nice-Fuck--"

He leans towards you and cradles your head in his hand, kissing you hard.

When you both pull back, you know your lips must be kiss swollen and red. His are--they're soft and bright, and you want to eat him whole.

"You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

He's thrusting into you lazily, holding you in place, but you need more, you need all of him.

You push forward and move his hand from your waist to your clit. As you manoeuvre him, his nostrils flare, and you'd wonder if he was angry, if not for the way you felt his cock stiffen even further inside of you. You start to move your hips, to rub up against the thumb on your clit, and to feel every fucking inch of him.

Urged on by the way he groans, you start to ride him, properly. Holding each other close, you fuck down onto him and he leans back, awed.

"Enjoying the show?" you ask.

"Damn- right- I- am-," Joel breathes, every word punctuated with a shuddering breath after you drive back down onto his cock, "Jesus- you- look- so- good- like- that."

You like being watched. Being admired. It sent an extra thrill through you, and your hips stutter, just a little, and now you're following a new, faster rhythm.

"Fuck, that's it, baby-" he praises, "Shit, yes- bounce on it."

You lean forward and kiss his throat, and then he makes this noise, half-strangled and beautiful.

"Shit, honey-- honey, honey, hold on-," he holds you still and you're glad he has, because your brain hadn't quite processed his words.

He's looking at you so earnestly.

"Baby, if you keep ridin' me like this I am gonna blow my load in the next twenty seconds and I don't wanna end this quite so soon."

You hum, a moment of consideration. You stare into his eyes, and part of it is calculated seduction, but another part is getting genuinely lost in the way he looks at you. The crinkles round his eyes. The way he seems able to focus on you, in a way that feels as frightening as it is exhilarating.

"How about this," You smile, "You get yours, and then you can eat me out till I get mine. And if you're ready to go again by the time I've come, we can see where we're at then. Hmm?"

You see a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and take a moment to appreciate how much he's clearly trying to control himself.

After a moments of avoiding your eye, he looks at you again and he looks utterly wrecked. "You- talkin' like that?" He shakes his head and tries to even his breath. "Fuck, I nearly came right there."

"It's okay," you soothe, and you cup his jaw and resume you movements, riding him like you had before. "You can come if you need to-" your fingertips stroke the stubble of his chin, "You're close, huh? It's okay, daddy, you can let go."

Joel lets out a strangled noise and busts immediately.

You savor the way it feels, the pulse of his cock as he spills into you. No, into the condom, you correct yourself, but you can always pretend-

After his balls relax and you can feel him start to get soft, you hold the condom down as you pull yourself off, and you're nearly unseated when there's a sudden squelch noise that sends you both into tumbles of laughter.

It takes a while to calm down, and you find yourselves heaving, tangled in the sheets, and wrapped up in each other. The condom is hanging limply on Joel's now-soft cock and it's oddly cold and gooey as you accidentally roll against it, and that sends you both off again.

"Fuck," Joel snorts, and tugs at the condom, starting to roll it off his length, "I'd almost forgotten the weird texture of a used condom. Fuckin'... Slug-like."

"That-" you declare, "Is visceral. And I hate it. Thanks."

He snorts, and you suddenly have a question.

"Condoms not making too many appearances in your life?"

"Not many, no."

"What, you usually fuck raw?"

"Just haven't been sleepin' with anyone," he shrugs, nonplussed.

"Well, I gotta say, the good people of Austin have been missing out."

Joel shrugs again, and it comes off as casual, but you notice the way his ears tint pink. "Just- not been something I did. But now, I guess, I can. And with way less guilt."

"Why guilt? Are-" you venture, dread pooling in your stomach, "Are you married?"

His eyes flit up to you sharply, and then soften immediately. He lets out a breath and shakes his head. "No. Nothin' like that. I was married, but I've been divorced nearly twenty years now."

The tightness immediately uncoils and you realise how tense you were only a moment ago. I am not a cog in the machine of a collapsing marriage. Thank fuck.

But now your curiosity is piqued. "So... why the guilt?"

"Sorry, I- I really didn't mean to get into it. I'd rather not get into it. It's- complicated."

"Of course," you shrug, and it isn't a problem because this is just a hot fantasy hookup that you'll remember fondly, and it'll be wonderful masturbation fuel for probably the rest of your life, but you don't wanna make the poor guy go into his life's trauma, especially when he's looking at you so fucking earnestly and you are actually really fucking fascinated but no, you would not let this become a problem.

"Thanks," he says, and then steps out of the room. You hear the clang of the bin as he steps on the pedal, then drops the condom, takes a piss and washes his hands.

"You hungry?" He asks, and you realize very suddenly, you're absolutely famished.

"Yes," you jump up and he laughs when you run, bare-assed and shameless, over to the corner of the room filled with brochures and traveller info and finally, you raise it in triumph when you find it, the list of nearby takeaways.

"Okay," you look at the list, "There's one place at the top of the list here that's apparently highly rated, but I actually have plans there soon and I wanna wait till then to eat there. Hope that's okay."

Joel comes over to you and rests his head on your shoulder. "No problem."

"But... alright," you continue. "There's pizza. Or... more pizza. Or, look--there's a Southern-style place, that'll make you feel right at home!" Joel pokes you in the side and you swat at him as he grunts a laugh.

Suddenly, a warning sound starts playing on loop in your brain. It was dreadfully domestic, wasn't it? This was an absolute stranger you'd just met in a hotel bar? But... it also felt... nice? And it felt nice in ways that you'd never found yourself enjoying before. Even with long-term partners. Maybe because this was so low-stakes, you reasoned, such an inevitably temporary situation, so you weren't putting the same kind of pressure on yourself.

As soon as you think that, the eternal curse of overthinking shows itself and you suddenly feel desperately self conscious. Before you can pull away and make some excuse, though, Joel's arm wraps around you and his thumb starts rubbing little circles into a tender bit of skin between your hip and your tummy. The anxiety spiral you'd been teetering on the edge of suddenly vanishes.

"How about-," he nods at the list, "Pizza?"

After Joel calls in your order, the pizza delivery service tells you to expect your food in about thirty minutes. You remember you have a little box of edibles. You ask Joel if he minds if you take one, and he doesn't. You offer him one, and he automatically declines, but then as he starts to explain, he pauses and pivots, goes "Wait, actually. Yeah. Why not?"

A freckled kid who looks no more than sixteen pulls up with a short stack of pizza boxes and a two liter bottle of root beer. He raps awkwardly on the door after exactly thirty five minutes, and it swings open.

The room looks utterly wrecked, clothing strewn along every surface. Joel answers the door wearing a robe, his entire face smelling of sex, and his moustache still shining with the slick of your release.

"Thanks, kid," Joel nods, and hands him a small wad of cash. The kid eyes him and shrugs. "Keep the change," he tells him, and the door swings back shut.

The edibles have hit beautifully. You're both blissed out, comfortably hazy, lost in the sensation of bare limbs on bedsheets and the flavors of the pizza and it's assorted sauces. You lay together on the bed, paper plates strewn between you. In the background, an X-Files rerun plays.

"Ooh!" You sit up as you catch the premise of the episode, "I love this one! See the goo? There's a giant fungal... entity.. that's working on digesting them, and giving them hallucinations as they die."

"You and mushrooms, huh?" Joel laughs, but then looks back at the episode and contemplates the viscous yellow goo. "Jesus christ," he frowns, and sniffs, now contemplating the mushrooms on his pizza slice.

You spot his glare and snort. "I think you're safe."

He takes another bite and shakes his head as if to clear it.

"I'm getting tired," he admits.

"Me too," you agree.

"No pressure, but in case it wasn't clear, you're welcome to stay the night here."

"That's sweet," you tell him, and think it over. "If I took you up on that, would you be offended if I slip out early?"

Joel raises a brow.

"I have a cat," you explain, "And I'm working on moving into a new place, and meeting a friend for breakfast, and then I need to check out after breakfast because I won't be able to get my keys for the new place until the breakfast but I can't take my cat to a diner-"

You take a breath.

"Basically, I've got a bunch of things I need to do in the morning, but if you don't mind me slipping out around, maybe, 5-ish, then I'd love to stay."

He stares at you.

You regret saying as much as you said. You don't need to over-explain yourself to this actual stranger. He doesn't care. There's no reason for him to care. He's probably in it just for the fuck, and it was fun and if you stay then there's a chance the two of you will wake up at some point in the night, still horny and lustful and you might fuck again and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't part of the draw. You realise, though, you'd also be lying if you said you didn't care what he thought of you. All of a sudden, you are overwhelmed with caring what this man thinks of you.

How fucking inconvenient.

"I wouldn't be offended at all," Joel chews, swallows, wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and speaks again. "What's your cat's name?"

You don't know what you'd expected he'd say, but it wasn't that. You buffer for a moment. "It's- Spatula."

"Spatula?"

"Yep." You feel foolish.

"Huh. Spatula."

A silent moment between you.

"Got any pictures?"

You weren't expecting that, either. "I... do? Do you want to see them?" He nods. You pull out your phone to scroll through.

Joel, suddenly scrambled around for his phone, too. It was late and he hadn't checked it for hours. Had it been on silent? What if Sarah had called and he'd missed it?

His panic eased when he saw he had only two notifications. Both from Sarah, but neither were bad. He hadn't been neglecting any crises. The first text was a selfie of Sarah and an unfamiliar person, which she'd texted to him with the caption New roomie!! The second contained an address to the place they'd have breakfast tomorrow along with Just wanted you to know I've invited a friend to join us tomorrow morning! Is that okay? Realized I should maybe have checked with you? 😬

There was an ache in his chest. He wanted to keep her to himself, get to spend one last day, just the two of them. It was the start of a whole new chapter, but more than anything, he wished he could hold onto the moment for just a second longer.

But Sarah was stressed, he knew this, so he wasn't gonna make it worse and put this burden on her. He could handle it. He had to handle it. He typed back- No problem, baby. Can't wait to meet your friend.

After a moment, he followed up with another text. Gonna turn in now. Good nite!

The less he texted right now, the better. He did not want Sarah to know anything about the night he was having.

His screen lit up a moment later. Night Dad! He takes a deep breath and wills some of the tension away.

He slips his phone aside and you scoot into bed next to him.

"This," you announce, "Is Spatula."

Joel scrolls thru, his brows raising higher with each image.

With a single nod, he opens his mouth and instead of speaking, he collapses into laughter. It comes out a wheeze- "I-- I know this won't make any sense, but your cat looks just like my goddamn brother."

You're laughing now too, both of you almost hysterical, even though you have no frame of reference. You cherish the absurdity.

Then, Joel pulls up a picture on his phone and shows you, and now you're doubling over again because his brother looks exactly like Spatula.

You don't remember falling asleep. You curse your body's internal clock because you wake up right at 5am, and even though you know you should get up and leave, you wish you could have just a little bit longer.

It's such a comfortable way to wake up. One arm is folded under your pillow, and the other is slung over Joel's hip. He's asleep, snoring softly, and strands of his hair are mussed along his forehead. Your hand is holding his tummy, but you realise there's something pressing against the heel of your hand, and then realise, with a delicious jolt, that he's hard and straining against his boxers.

It's so fucking hard to get out of that bed, but with enough barely-effective reminders--you're gonna fuck up your whole day if you're late, gotta make a good impression, Spatula's gonna be so disappointed if you're late with his breakfast--you manage to bully yourself out of the warm and wonderful bed containing blankets and absolutely fantastic dick, and you tiptoe through the room, dress quickly, and, after making a note and leaving it on his bedside stand, you slip out.

Joel wakes up with a jolt, and then rolls over to see that the alarm clock (which he dared not contemplate the number of times he must have snoozed) was telling him it was 9:13.

He was late. Really fucking late. And then the panic made his brain spin faster and that's when he noticed the note on his bedside table.

I had a really good time If you're in town for a little longer, don't be a stranger?

It's followed with your name and phone number, and a rather detailed mushroom sketch across the page. He wasn't sure what kind of mushroom it was, but it was beautiful, and clearly hand-drawn, and for whatever reason you'd decided to tear it out of, presumably, your sketchbook? And you gave it to him, and he's gonna read that note and replay last night for the rest of his fucking life. It felt incredibly precious. He placed it in a book so it wouldn't get creased or folded. Made sure it was all contained and neat, totally flat in between the pages.

Then, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.

After scrubbing the smell of sex off of his entire body, he dresses quickly and checks his watch again. 9:28.

He texts Sarah and lets her know he's a few minutes behind. She responds with an eye roll emoji.

Joel settles in his truck and pulls up directions. It's only a few minutes away. He won't be too late.

When Joel steps into the diner, he's charmed by it. It's old school, with a checkerboard floor and bright red vinyl seats. He scans the room till he spots Sarah in a booth in the corner. She's laughing over a hot chocolate, and her friend must be in the seat opposite her.

He catches Sarah's eye and she grins at him, waving him over.

You've been at the diner about fifteen minutes, and you and Sarah are already getting along beautifully.

You'd met on a university message board and had become fast friends, but meeting someone in person was always a little terrifying. On top of that, you'd already committed to spending at least one (academic) year with this person, so you were damn sure gonna make it work.

Sarah waves over her dad. You can't see him yet, the back of the booth too high.

But then he's standing right there.

You already have a hand outstretched, but when he sees you and you see him, your stomach flips and dread runs through you. All the color drains from his face. He looks like a deer in headlights, and you'd be surprised if you didn't look the same.

Sarah looks between you, not quite concerned, but definitely confused. Sarah smiles and tries to diffuse the situation.

"Hi dad!" She grins, "This is my new roommate! Well, the other new roommate--the one in the picture, their name is Ellie, they weren't able to make it this morning. BUT. Breakfast seemed like a great time to hand off keys!"

Joel is still frozen and white-faced. Your brain whirs, and you know you've just fucking catapulted yourself into a disastrous mess, but you do your very best to save face.

Reaching your hand out further so he can't possibly miss it, he gives into some familiar social instinct, takes it and you shake. You think of his hands, how they dragged along your body last night, touched you, felt you, wrecked you.

You introduce yourself. He nods, avoiding eye contact.

"Joel." He grunts. "Miller."

Sarah frowns at him, but turns back to the menu.

This- was unexpected. Problematic. Arguably, really fucked up. All of those things and more. But it'll be fine.

All throughout breakfast, you repeat that to yourself, letting the words bounce around your head. It will be fine, you repeat your mantra, it will be fine, and you try not to feel too hurt at the way Joel's avoiding eye contact as if simply looking at you will cause him unimaginable disgust.

Everything will be fine.

Note: The fic's premise is loosely based on the book Mistakes Were Made which is a fucking excellent sapphic romance novel that utilises this trope. Would strongly recommend the book if you're into smutty queer stories.

[squirmhoney]

A sweet distraction - Netflix and Chill

Warnings: Dark. Dub Con. slight non con. Smut. Step-brother! Rafe. 18+ MDNI

Step-Brother!Rafe who Sarah believes will easily be fooled by you asking to watch Netflix with him. Desperately needing to get past Rafe one night and asks for you to do this as a favour to her. Just so she can sneak past him and get out of the house for a few hours.

Step-Brother!Rafe who seems confused at first when you ask to hang out with him, saying that you have a horror show you desperately didn’t want to watch by yourself. He lets you crawl under his bedding while he finishes up his game, throwing the controllers to you once he is done so he can snort a quick line.

Step-Brother!Rafe who groans when you put something on, rolling his eyes at each and every idea you come up with. Only to let you pick something as he gets comfortable next to you, turning his lips up at it.

Step-Brother!Rafe who is impatient and only lasts 10 minutes into the movie or tv show before his hand is running along the bare skin of your leg underneath the sheets. He chuckles humourlessly when he shifts closer to you, hand traveling up your thigh as he asks so casually, Aren’t you supposed to be distracting me. His fingers brush over your clothed clit, eyes squinting as he says, you don’t want to disappoint Sarah now, do you?

Step-Brother!Rafe who climbs on top of you in an instant, tearing the sheets away and caging you in before you can protest. Those lips sink into yours to silence any rejections from you, not that you had many when his hand is in your panties, playing with the pool of wetness that has managed to form there.

Step-Brother!Rafe who wraps his lips around one nipple, fingers twisting the other as he whispers what a pretty little sister he has into your skin. Calling you his good girl when your hand manages to find his cock, stroking it gently as he tells you to squeeze it tighter.

Step-Brother!Rafe who teases you as he slides his tip against your soaked folds, flicking it over your clit to hear your precious whines. Only to lose any self control he has seconds later when you plead with him with those wet eyes of yours, unable to stop himself from thrusting himself into the hilt, both of you moaning together at this.

Step-Brother!Rafe who mocks your fucked out expression, with a, who knew you’d be such a slut for your old brothers cock? I mean look at pathetic you look right now. And when you didn’t say anything, trying to babble some sort of response he just continues to laugh, what’s that baby? Want me to go harder.

Step-Brother!Rafe who’s made you cum twice now but isn’t nearly finished with you. Holding your hands above your head when you’re trying to push him off, smothering your lips with his own to stop your pleads for a break. He hasn’t finished yet so why should you?

Step-Brother!Rafe who slaps a hand around your mouth when he hears Sarah come through the door. Telling you to quieten down as his hips move slowly inside of you, it’s torturous the way he rocks his hips, groaning in your ear as he tells you to just take it.

Step-Brother!Rafe who has to hold in his own noises when your walls tighten around him, sucking and biting at the skin around your neck as a distraction. He lets go entirely when you look back up at him with tears streaming down your face, nails digging into his back as you mark your own territory.

Step-Brother!Rafe who yanks you to his chest once he is done, pressing his soft lips to your wet cheeks. He is reassuring you with his words, you’re fine. You did such a good job for me. His dick is still buried inside of you, only pulling it out with a deep sigh as he tries to hide how much it affects him.

Step-Brother!Rafe who thinks you probably want nothing to do with him the next day. Only to be surprised when you sneak into his room in the afternoon and straddle him in his computer chair. Telling him how you managed to convince Sarah to stay out for the rest of the day, leaving you both with the whole house to yourselves.

Step-Brother!Rafe who eats you out like he’s been deprived of it for a lifetime. He sucks on your clit as his fingers slide inside of you, saying you deserve a reward after getting Sarah to leave for the day. I need to treat my sister, he says as he licks at your clit, I need to show you what a good girl you’ve been.

[youcancallmeelle]

She’s got a boyfriend anyway…

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Word count: 7K

Warnings: Semi public sex, Missionary, Cowgirl, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Sneaking around, Secret relationship, Brief David mention, Ellie being a menance, Tommy trying to play matchmaker.

Summary: Tommy has been trying to set Joel up for AGES, he’s got other interests.

Or

You and Joel have secretly been seeing each other.

A03

Read below…

Life in Jackson is promising, nearly a year and half here and Joel feels comfortable, no longer itching for a way out of civilisation because he’s just not used to that no more. Ellie is settled too - finally. She’s attending school three days a week, enjoying the new responsibilities that come with being sixteen and the tad bit of freedom it brings. She helps out at the stables, in the kitchen too but she’s not a fan. She likes being in the library most, checking in and out books, tidying shelves, using her art to create eye catching displays aimed at the younger generation of Jackson.

Joel is proud, his heart feels like it could burst out of his chest all the time. Ellie is still full of wit and charisma that comes out in curses and daft puns that make Joel roll his eyes and get her in a headlock until she’s laughing so hard she’s pink in the face.

There’s times when she skips school completely if a male teacher has subbed in, she flinches away if someone comes too close and sometimes if it’s stew night at dinner, she’ll stare blankly into her bowl at the chunks of meat and see a severed ear, she’ll try to swallow but gag instead. These are nights Joel gives her his bread and Tommy will too, then he’ll make her a fruit salad when they get home with a little double cream poured over it.

The nightmares are persistent on these bad days where triggers occur, he finds Ellie in bed screaming and thrashing multiple times a week. She’ll sob and cry hoarsely as he holds her, hushing her gently and resting his cheek on her head. Most of the time she’ll fall back asleep with him beside her, curled into him like she did back at Silver Lake when death was close.

But mostly, everything’s okay.

Joel had been with Tommy every single day this week so far and it was Thursday evening, they’d been focusing on fixing up the bathroom in a house way further down from his, they were getting it ready for a family that had expanded to move in. The floor was rotten and the pipes wrecked, neither of them were particularly fond of plumbing but they sorted it between them. There was still the kitchen to do but that was a job for tomorrow and probably Saturday too but not Sunday, that was his day with Ellie.

Sunday’s were for late breakfasts of bacon and pancakes - before and after the world ended. The only thing that changed was the kid for Joel, he used to serve Sarah indulgent breakfasts on a Sunday and they’d do something together and the tradition was carried on with Ellie and Sarah remained tucked in his heart.

Tired and stiff from working hunched over all day, Joel was enjoying a quiet drink with Tommy. They were tucked away on a small table with two stools, Joel would have preferred something with a back but beggars can’t be choosers; he was grateful for the cold glass of bourbon nearly empty in front of him and the sound of Dire Straits playing over the old speakers.

As always, Tommy is picking and prying into his lack of a love life. Since he’s noticed his older brother being more settled within the community, he’d been trying his hardest to set him up with various women and Tommy Miller was nothing if not persistent.

At this point in the day, Tommy’s voice is almost just white noise.

“Cath is nice.” Tommy pointed out, Joel snorts.

“She’s also gay, Tommy.”

“Oh shit, really? I didn’t know.”

“Clearly. Can we please stop talking about this? It’s the same thing every fuckin’ time I come drinking with you.” Joel begs, Tommy sighs heavily but drops it for now.

Joel takes in the scenery as he sits there, grateful for the moments silence from Tommy. His eyes stray to the left of the table and he listens as you speak to Denton, an older gentleman in his late sixties with a love of horses. He’s quizzing you about the new mare in the stables, he hears you mention checking on her again after your shift because she’s been particularly temperamental since she was brought in from outside but you’ve developed a nice bond with her, she’s slowly becoming more trusting.

It occurs to Joel that everyone likes you - literally everyone, even Ellie and she was a tough nut to crack. You’re sweet, soft spoken yet confident. You’re always helping out where you can; on patrols, stable duty, in the communal garden, sometimes at the school and also here at the bar when Darius needs his shift covered.

You find good things on patrol and give them to Joel or Ellie before taking the rest for the community, so they get first pick of everything.

You’re just the sweetest thing.

Tommy sees you and beckons you with a friendly wave, you mutter a goodbye to Denton and pat his hand.

“Hey.” You hear your name called over the music and you turn as Tommy Miller grabs your attention as you scoop up two glasses and an empty bowl that once held nuts and dried berries from the table two away from his and Joel’s.

“Yes, Miller?” You patter over with your hands occupied, you sneak a look at his older sibling, sparing him a wink as a greeting, he smirks softly back.

“Has Darius got an other fuckin’ music or are we strictly limited to the sounds of 1985 tonight?” He questions and you laugh, shaking your head.

“You don’t like Dire Straits?”

“He doesn’t appreciate good music.” Joel interjects, shaking his head at Tommy.

“I do - but other music. Eminem or even fuckin’ Britney! Anything but this shit.” Tommy groans, tossing his head back.

“Keep talking smack about Dire Straits, Miller - and I’ll snitch to your wife about the fact you’ve switched patrols with Mark twice this week because you were too hungover to go.” You smile sweetly at Tommy, tilting your head.

“Snitches get stitches.” Tommy remarks playfully, not an ounce of malice in his dark brown eyes and your eyebrows rise, you beam back.

“That right? Well, troublesome men get barred for life.”

“Oooooh.” Joel chimes in, looking amusedly between you and his younger brother.

“Touché.” Tommy quips, folding his arms.

“Tell you what, next time I’m in, I’ll have a rummage out back and see if I can find you some Britney. Bless you.” You pinch his cheek as you walk past and he swats your hand, rubbing the spot while Joel laughs.

“You’re pushing your luck giving her lip, I’m not sure if you’re aware but this is the only operational bar in Wyoming.”

“Tell me about it.” He grumbles back, Joel shakes his head once more as the door behind Tommy on the back wall opens.

“Joeeeeeel?!” He hears yelled from close by, he looks up and sees Ellie dragging her sneakers across the floor, scouring the bar for him with her honey coloured eyes eagerly. She spots him within seconds, beaming and practically skipping over to him and Tommy in the corner. “There you are, I looked fucking everywhere for you.” She groans dramatically, throwing her head back. “I wanna go out, I’m bored shitless at home. There’s nothing for me to do and yes - I’ve done my school work.” She quickly adds.

“You done those quadratic equation questions we were going over last night?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Yep. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, though I did ask my teacher because I’m pretty sure you were figuring them out wrong. You were, by the way.” Joel puffs indignantly, rolling his eyes. Ellie spins to Tommy, the soles of her shoes squeaking. “Can I try that?” She’s laser focused on the bourbon swimming between globes of ice in Tommy’s glass.

“What have I said the last twenty times you’ve asked, El?” Tommy’s dark brows are high on his forehead, his mouth is twisted with hidden laughter. Ellie rolls her eyes with annoyance, sloping over to Joel now.

“No.” She huffs, swinging her lanky arms around Joel. She hums and rubs her face into his shoulder bone, resting there for a second before her attentions shifts comically fast. There’s a warmth that spreads through Joel every single time she does this, she’s so casual about it and he’s drawn the conclusion that it’s a teenage thing because Sarah was the same. There’s a sadness that blossoms too, a darkness that twists and anchors in his chest as he thinks of her and who she’d be now. He can’t dwell for too long, not now - he did that for too long.

At one dark point in time, human connection was not key to survival, hence why he always kept Tess at arms length and then referred to Ellie as cargo until one snowy day it became apparent she was no longer cargo when she was frenzied and panting in his arms, splattered with the blood of a predator and gasping like she was taking her last breath. The sound haunted him for a long time, all memories of Sarah hitting him like a freight train. He had to protect Ellie, the minute he drew her in - oh baby girl - and held her tightly, wrapped in his coat and clinging to him just as hard.

Ellie’s his kid now. She’s his. He’s hers. They’re a family. Ellie Williams Miller - that’s how she’s known now. It’s scrawled on her school books. The love he feels for this human tornado in sneakers is unmatched, the one thing he’s ever been truly good at has been restored and it’s a role he knows well; being a father.

Sure, this teenager that he’s raising is the furthest from bubblegum pink and Avril Lavigne she could be, she’s particularly jagged around the edges and does have the temperament of an unsocialised cat that will bite if you get too close.

He looks down at her, rubbing into him like she’s trying to get his smell on her because it’s comforting and she feels safe and feels his heart ready to burst.

Of course the sweet moment of affection is shattered when Ellie yawns directly into his fucking ear because why wouldn’t she?

He grunts when she bears most of her weight on his aching shoulders, leaning easily into him and twisting her small fingers into his flannel.

“So? Can I go or not?” She presses.

“Go where?” He prompts, raising his eyebrow.

“Toni’s from school. Her cat had kittens a few weeks ago and they’re starting to play. Five of them, Joel! That’s a lotta kittens!” Ellie enunciates, brown eyes wide and Joel can’t help the smile that graces his otherwise tired face.

“You mean a litter?” He corrects and Ellie pauses, frowning.

“Huh?”

“A bunch of kittens is a litter, Ellie.” He informs her and she somehow manages to frown even more, she makes a noise like she’s computing the new information.

“Yeah, whatever.” She mumbles, Tommy snorts in amusement. “So I can go see them?” She presses, shifting her weight again and Joel groans louder now, unhooking her arms from his shoulders with a quiet ‘don’t do that, baby’ that’s full of affection.

“Yes but you’re back at nine latest, okay? Nine. I’ll be waiting for you, the minute those street lamps turn on, you’re home.” Joel says, Ellie’s mouthing along to his instructions that he’s been laying out since Summer began and the evenings stretched longer. “Be good.” He speaks more softly now and she nods, he presses a kiss to the side of her head, her eyelashes flutter happily as the warmth blossoms in her too with the security that’s Joel Miller.

“Peesh. I’m always good. Bye Tommy!” She says excitedly, fist bumping him when it’s offered.

“See ya, squirt.” Tommy replies but before he’s even voiced his reply, Ellie’s hurrying away and knocking into a patron while waving to you on the way out of the door so hard it slams. Joel sighs, thinking she’s a literal hurricane.

The door hinge has barely stopped shaking before Tommy starts with the suggestions of suitors once more.

“What about Myleene?” Tommy proposes, Joel shakes his head quickly, downing the remainder of his drink.

“Too young.” He replies.

“She’s twenty five.”

“Too young.” He repeats firmer this time.

“Okay, fine. What about Michelle? She’s what forty? I was talking to her in the cobblers the other day, she’s definitely interested - mentioned something about making you a pie?”

“I’m good.” He grumbles looking down into his empty glass but quickly shifting his gaze to the bar, you’re leaning on your elbows, laughing heartily with a patron.

You look beautiful tonight - just like every other night. Your shoulders are sunkissed, your cheeks a little flushed and skin glowing from the summer humidity. He absorbs the way your hair tumbles down your shoulders and the way the thin straps of your tiered sundress slip down occasionally, only to be tugged back into place with dexterous fingers.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Tommy jibes, Joel looks over with a firm scowl.

“What?” He asks, Tommy shakes his head.

“You can dream, brother.” Joel rolls his eyes, trying to act nonchalant. “She’s got a boyfriend anyway.” Tommy adds, Joel eyes him with full attention.

“A boyfriend?” He asks, trying to be sure he heard right.

“Yeah, overheard her talking to one of the girls in the garden a few days ago. Didn’t mention no names but she definitely said she was seein’ someone.” Tommy shrugged, Joel hummed with interest. “Anyway, it don’t matter because she’s way out of your league.”

“Thanks.” Joel retorts, sneaking one last look before focusing on the door behind Tommy, the one Ellie had not long barrelled in and out of just moments ago.

He wonders about the kittens she mentioned and gulps as he imagines her taking to one with its big eyes and soft paws, his mind is pulled back to a time in April when he’d come downstairs one morning to a sink full of tad poles she’d ‘rescued’ from birds out of the neighbours pond.

Basically, his girl can’t resist animals she deems too vulnerable to leave.

“Scared Ellie’s gonna come home with one of them kittens?” Tommy wonders, reading Joel’s mind.

“Terrified.”

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

The sun is setting in bursts of burnt orange and marigold by the time he leaves Tommy to his own devices at the bar, he hazards a look around as he makes his way in the complete opposite direction to his and Ellie’s house.

He slinks around the back of the school house, slithering through the gap and walking up the winding path that leads to the stables. He climbs the short fence and hops to the other side, his boots kick up the dust from the dirt path and the crickets chirp beneath the skyline.

With one more look around, he opens to rear door to the stables and slips inside, shutting it softly behind him.

Immediately he hears the horses further down huff and puff, he can make out the swish of their tails hitting the walls as they munch on hay, there’s a neigh that is absolutely Shimmer kicking up a fuss about something.

He slopes around the riding gear and sees you leaning against the wall, hands behing your back. You grin.

“Took your time, cowboy. Was beginning to think you couldn’t take the hint and stood me up.”

“Never, honey.” Joel prowls towards you, ready to grab you. “Missed you.”

“You just saw me.”

“Not the same.” He yanks you close like a man starved, you’d shared company less than 24 hours ago but you greet and leave each other like it’s the last time you’ll ever be together. It’s the apocalypse affect, you know that, he does too

This arrangement had been going on for almost two months now, all started by a late night patrol together where you’d shared more about yourselves in an eight hour shift than both of your time in Jackson combined. There was an instant attraction, it was so easy to talk to one another and that’s what you did every single time you were partnered together and it became the highlight of your day. It started innocently and friendship had bloomed, then before you knew it you were sharing a rum laced thermos of tea with him in the bed of a truck and kissing him with reddened cheeks shortly thereafter. You’d first slept together in the same truck, just as dawn began to break. It was clumsy and quick but you couldn’t get enough of one another. You hadn’t cum but Joel promised next time would be better which lead to the question of next time? You’d been seeing each other most nights since.

Any chance you got, you were together. Nobody knew about you both, hence why Tommy was incessantly trying to hook Joel up with other women around town and jealousy burned as you listened in on their one sided conversations in the bar whenever you were covering for Darius.

You’d left the bar shortly before Joel had, waving farewell to him and Tommy, coming straight up here to check on the mare just as you’d told Denton. This was a usual spot to meet Joel, it wasn’t your first rodeo in the stables with him. It was the one place you could be alone after a certain time.

“Were you hiding from me, honey? Hmm?” He growls playfully, pulling you to him even though you were barely a millimetre away in the first place. You hum in response, so utterly lost in him. You’re nuzzling his throat, fisting his shirt, desperate for his attention. “God, you look so good today.” He murmurs, mouth finding yours. You moan softly, standing on your tip toes and kissing him in a way that makes his lungs and loins burn alike. His grey tinged moustache prickles your upper lip beautifully, his beard feels familiar beneath your soft hands.

He’s crowding you and guiding you backwards, kissing you hotly in a sense that makes your cunt throb eagerly. You moan into his mouth when he nips your bottom lip, squeezing the left cheek of your ass.

You love when he’s like this - playful and easy. He feels lightyears younger around you, it’s like the heaviness dissipates the moment he’s in your company. He loses himself in the way you smell, the way your hair feels when his fingers are entwined between the sun kissed strands, the way in which your eyes sparkle with mischief.

It’s easy to pull him towards the back of the stable, where the bales of hay were stacked created a nice wall of privacy. You’d been in here a couple of times with him, having gone as far to stash a flannel blanket in one of the cupboards to lay down as to protect you both from the cold floor and the prickle of loose hay.

Once behind the hay and seated on a bale with you in his lap, strong hands are moving the thin straps of your sundress down your shoulders, you momentarily break away from his mouth to aid the removal of your dress to your waist where Joel roughly bunches it up so that your underwear is now on show and so are your tits.

His eyes light up at your bare chest, like he hasn’t seen your breasts countless times before. One thing among many that you first noticed was that Joel Miller is a tit man through and through. His rough and work toughened hands cup them both gently before his tongue swirls around your left nipple.

“Joel.” You murmur, arching into him, rolling your hips into his. He’s hard already, age not affecting him like that in the slightest. He’s a hot blooded male, every single inch a man and that warms you to your core. You grab his hand, bringing it to the top of your panties and he slides it in without hesitation.

“Christ.” He curses, exploring your lips with his fingertips, gliding through the dewy wetness gathered there and coming back up for a split second to drag it over your clit roughly. You whimper, bucking into his hand. “Mmm, babydoll.” Joel huffs against your cheek in a hot pant, repeating the action.

“Need you so badly, Joel. Almost got started without you.” You confess.

“Fuck. You can’t- don’t say shit like that, honey.” He growls lowly, unbelievably hard beneath you. His fingers explore again, you aid his explorations by canting your hips just so.

Joel is eager to get things moving, he’s hard and frustrated, he has a beautiful woman in his lap and the perfect setting. He pulls his hand from your underwear, looking down to see the shine of you on him. He loses his mind when you take his hand and lead it to your mouth, sucking the tips of his index and middle finger as he watches with eyes blown wide; they look black instead of the earthy brown that sometimes melts into caramel or runny honey.

The minute you hum like a content cat, he has you lifted off his lap and braced against him. You squeal at the sudden shift, the ceiling looking closer than the floor but then he gently lays you back on the blanket and settles between your legs.

“Hey, who was Tommy trying to set you up with?” You blurt, Joel pauses.

“Cath.”

“She’s gay.” You frown.

“Michelle too.” He adds before diving down into your chest, pressing your breasts together, mouthing at the swell.

“I’m not sure you’re Michelle’s type, she’s a cougar apparently.” You remark, Joel ignores you in favour of sucking your nipples until they feel raw. “Why Michelle? I don’t understand why Tommy thinks she’s a good match for you.” You don’t know why this is coming up now, your mouth seems to have a mind of its own, the jealousy settling like lead in your stomach.

“He said she wants to make me a pie.” Joel pipes up, the confession half muffled.

“What kind of pie?” You ask, pulling his face from your tits. Joel groans frustratedly, looking up at you with eyes dark and deadly.

“I don’t know. Why does that even matter?”

“A cream pie probably.” You snarl under your breath, the jealousy swirling in the pit of your stomach like a rattled viper.

Joel laughs, shaking his head and coaxing your mouth back to his. “Gross.” He murmurs, kissing you softly and squeezing your hips as if to guide you back. “You know I only like your cream pies.” He jokes, this time you break into a smile.

“Now whose gross?” You snort, tugging his plain grey undershirt over his head and to the side. You run your palms over his chest and down to his softer stomach, digging your nails in as they drag a long his skin. Goosebumps erupt all over him.

Joel is softer in his older age but strong too, years of walking different terrain, heavy lifting and fighting have made him lean also.

You hum contentedly, tracing over those familiar scars that have been made in the 20 years since the world imploded.

“He said you were out of my league.” Joel suddenly admits, resting his hands on your spread knees. You frown up at him. “Tommy said you were out of my league.”

“Tell Tommy he doesn’t know shit.” You retort with an eye roll, grabbing Joel by his belt and yanking him forward. “I like you, Joel. Fuck what anyone else thinks, it’s not anyone’s business who we choose to be with.” You say softly now, kissing your way up his chin to his lips. “I like you.” You affirm again, Joel kisses you tenderly, weaving his hand into your hair as you moan quietly.

“Well, I like you too.” He says, kissing you with so much passion yet so much tenderness all at the same time as you fumble to unbuckle his belt. You yank it apart, tugging open the button and prying the worn denim apart with the hiss of his zipper.

He barely lets you wrap a hand around him over his boxers before he has both your wrists pinned above your head, you make a sad whine but all disappointment quickly dissipates when he shuffles down the length of your torso and yanks your underwear down so fast you feel the material leave a friction burn. He grabs your thighs and then manoeuvres your legs by the backs of your knees, you like where this seems to be going.

Your spine curves against the hard floor when his mouth makes that first contact, he starts slow with a lick up the length of you, then he lightly suckles your lips and gently licks over the hood of your clitoris.

“Joel.” You murmur, twisting the blanket beneath your fingertips, scrunching it and bitting down on your lower lip as he continues his gentle assault on your clit, the rubber toes of your hi tops dig into his ribs almost painfully.

His thumb comes up to gently push the hood of your clit back, the sensation of his tongue directly stimulating the nerve causes you to gasp and wind one hand down into his hair, you tug and he groans against you.

You’re transported back to one of the first times you’d been intimate together after sleeping together in the truck.

For some reason, it had shocked you that Joel Miller ate pussy like a champ. The first time he’d gone down on you - behind the bar just after you’d blown him - you’d prepared yourself for dissatisfaction and disappointment, only it never came. Joel had licked into you with such ferocity and precision that you’d almost keened over.

He’d made you cum so quickly that you’d barely had time to process the first swipe of his tongue on your clitoris and the climax that followed minutes later.

He’d looked up at you, moustache and beard slick with his eyes wide; ‘I forgot how much I enjoyed doing that’ he’d panted while you squeaked back in shock.

Now, as you live in the moment, you feel that tingle of pleasure building but you don’t want to cum without him inside of you. As much as it pains you, you tug on his hair, urging him back up.

“Wanna cum with you.” You pant when he looks up with dazed brown eyes, frowning a little. He seems to accept that and sits up, shucking his jeans and boxers down over his ass with the help of your clumsy hands. “Lay back.” You demand, he does so and you move to take his place.

You throw your legs over his and settle above his lap, he’s got one arm behind his head and watches as you take him in your first and tease yourself with the flushed tip of him. He breathes in sharply through his nose as you do it again before notching him at the site of your heat, you steady yourself and begin to sink down.

“Fuck me.” Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly because he’s so sure he’s in heaven. The sensation of your wet heat surrounding him never gets old, he’d forgotten how much he loved sex before meeting you.

“You’re so big, Joel.” You whimper, stroking his ego deliciously and he hates to be such a guy but the compliment goes straight to his dick.

“Fuck, honey. Take what you want, I’m yours - just fuck me.” He begs as you slowly begin to move, your nails scrape across his torso as you fall into an easy rhythm of rolling your hips into his. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.” He babbles, looking up and admiring the curve of your back and the way your tits bounce as you ride him.

“Mmm.” You whine, picking up the pace and throwing your head back which exposes your jugular and Joel just wants to sink his teeth into you because you truly look good enough to eat.

“Come here, babydoll.” He urges, pulling you down so you’re chest to chest. Your peer at him with pretty doe eyes, your lashes flutter as they shut to kiss him deeply, your tongue swipes his and you taste the tang of yourself on him. You moan louder when he manages to plant his boots on the floor and thrust up into you roughly, tangling his hand in your hair to keep you pressed against him.

It’s so hot in the stables, you’re both sticky and warm. But with your pretty moans and keens filling the air, Joel manages to easily forget the irritation from the heat.

You push against his chest to sit up and Joel grabs your hips, guiding you easily and you feel yourself getting close but you can’t achieve orgasm through penetration alone.

You brace one hand on his thigh behind you, tipping your head back as the pleasure becomes almost too much to handle. Your hips roll in an easy rhythm, his cock head hitting your G spot perfectly and you whine when the hand on your left hip moves ever so slightly until Joel was able to thumb your clit. He knows you so well.

“Oh f - fuck. You feel so good, you’re so good - fuck.” You babble, your hips moving faster.

“Jesus christ.” Joel huffs, throwing his head back against the hard floor, biting his bottom lip hard to stave off his orgasm. You feel so good wrapped around him; wet and snug, like crushed velvet.

He knows he can’t stay like this, he’s too close to finishing and he can sense you’re not quite there yet despite being edged so he makes the conscious decision to hold you and flip you both over with a nimbleness he didn’t know he possessed in his older age.

You stutter out a choked moan, arching into his strong hands. You drag your nails down his toned back, leaving a little spatter of blood in the red tracks.

Joel hisses when your nails puncture the skin on the globes of his ass, somehow trying to pull him closer and push him away at the same time.

“Where?” He asks, nodding downwards as he fights off his climax.

“Inside.” You reply without hesitation. You’d counted your cycle days, marking in a blank notebook the day number and your symptoms, pretty accurately guessing your fertile window and probable ovulation day by cervical mucus alone. You were four days from your period being due, it was safe.

“You sure?” He hesitates, brow furrowed hard with concentration, he’s a stroke away from finishing. He knows better than most people to not trust the pull out method and he knows the importance of contraception but he still ended up a Dad before he hit his mid twenties. Pushing sixty he’s still playing a dangerous game but so far, neither of you had gotten burnt.

“Yeah.” You gasp, fingers on your clit rubbing faster. You groan suddenly and twist into him, making pretty little whimpers and purring. He groans too, thrusting in hard once, twice and then three times. You feel his cock stiffen and twitch, then the pulse of subtle warmth of his cum spreading inside and aiming for your cervix. He works himself through it, you push in return as the aftershocks slow to a flat line.

Joel heaves a breath, resting on his forearms as you lazily kiss his neck in satisfaction and rapture. You sit there for a minute, basking in the afterglow until Joel grows too stiff and has to withdraw from you slowly, kneeling up between your legs to pull his boxers and jeans back up but he leaves them unbuttoned and his belt loose.

You don’t miss the primal look in his eyes when they drift to between your legs, he can see his cum leaking and the pearlescent finish it leaves on your lips. His cock twitches, perhaps if he was younger he could go for another round but alas, he settles next to you on the blanket, pulling you to his chest and cushioning your head with a strong bicep.

“I think that might have been the best time yet.” You pant breathlessly, looking up at the ceiling and seeing the evening sky through the cracks of wood.

“Maybe one day we can do it in an actual bed, I’m not sure how much more of these places my back can take.” Joel jokes, you giggle and turn into him, listening to the rapid pace of his heartbeat as it settles, a perfect mirror of your own.

“Not bad for an old timer.” You tease, giggling when he growls and squeezes your hip.

“Was patrol okay today?” Joel questions you, you nod lazily against him. “You come across anything?” Now you speak, leaning up to peer down at him.

“A couple of runners. We shot them in that abandoned gas station near the entrance to the offices off the trail. I think they were probably people passing through, one was infected on the journey and turned, then bit the other.” Joel hums, rubbing your lower back and hip. “I have some things for Ellie I found, by the way. I’ll drop them over tomorrow. Nothing crazy, just some things I thought she needed.” You say between kisses down Joel’s chest and sternum, your delicate fingers tracing out old battle scars.

“What like?” He asks, catching your hand as it reaches his happy trail, bringing it to his lips instead where he presses tender kisses to your fingertips.

“Pyjamas, underwear and some toiletries. Oh! And get this, a new casette tape for her walkman.”

“What tape?”

“Teardrops.” You grin.

“Womack and Womack? She’s gonna love that.” Joel says, laying back and smiling at the ceiling of the stables, humming the song in his head. “Fuck, I haven’t heard that song in - jesus - years.” He’s frowning, contemplating lost time, the whole concept of time evades him, it never used to at the start but now? It’s one big jumble, his time is defined by events and not a calendar.

“She still playing that one you got her on repeat?” You wonder.

“Yeah.”

“What was it again?”

“Bowie. Heroes.” Joel replies.

“Nice.” You nod.

As you lie there together in an easy silence, content to be together in the quiet solace of the stables, Joel’s mind wanders back to his earlier conversation with his younger brother:

“Hey, er - Tommy actually said something else earlier.” Joel winces at how awkward he sounds and you huff loudly, ready to hear what other dumbass thing he’s said. “He said he heard you say you have a boyfriend or that you were seein’ someone.”

You sit up, frowning down at Joel.

“Okay…” You reply hesitantly, uneasy now. “Am I not seeing you?” You frown.

“No - no! It’s… that came out wrong. I just meant - “ Joel grumbles, covering his face momentarily while you try to will your stomach from not sinking. “I don’t know, I just wanted to know if you meant me.”

“Seriously, Joel? This conversation is going so well.” You say dryly, utterly unimpressed.

“No! Oh my god! I can’t do this.” He groans, realising his mistake. “I’m sorry, that came out so wrong.” Joel apologises, you snort.

“Look Joel, I was talking to Mrs Patterson in the garden and she was telling me about her late husband, saying how lovely he was and how men just aren’t like that anymore. She asked if I’d found anyone and I let it slip that I was seeing someone, I didn’t mention any names and I can totally understand why you’re freaked when we haven’t even had that conversation ourselves. I shouldn’t have assumed this was anything more than sex, I’m sorry.” You annunciate, warm in the cheeks.

“You want to just have sex?” Joel is sat up now, matching your frazzled expression.

“If that’s what you want.” You shrug, taking an interest in your cuticles. A large hand lays over yours, squeezing. You shift your focus to his knuckles instead, tracing out the scars.

“Honey, look at me.” He urges softly, you hesitantly meet his eyes. “I think somewhere we’ve miscommunicated.”

“How so?” You press.

“Look… it’s been a long time since I’ve done this, I’m a little rusty. I’m sorry if I haven’t been clear about what we are or what I want us to be, I kinda just assumed you knew and yeah, that’s real shitty of me.” He says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I wanna be exclusive with you, honey. I mean, I have Ellie to think about so we’ll need to go slow just so I can ease her into the change. Is that okay?” He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

“That’s more than okay, Joel. I completely understand, I don’t want to spook Ellie either.” You confirm, Joel let’s out a relieved sigh.

“Good - good, okay. We’ll figure it out, baby.” He assures you, nuzzling his nose against yours and kissing you softly.

It’s easy to lose yourself in Joel Miller, you’re swept up in the gruff voice and strong arms, the softness beneath his outer shell reserved for those closest to him.

You’re kissing him back in earnest, he’s reclining to lay back down with you on top of him and you’re sure this could lead to round two or at least head from either one of you, maybe even both.

However, the moment is spoiled when you hear voices creeping closer to the stables. You both stiffen and wait, looking at each other with eyes opened wide.

The voices are getting closer and you decipher it’s two sets, it’s not made clear who it is until they’re walking behind the stables and you can see their shadows slink between the thin gaps in the planks.

It’s Ellie and Tommy.

You and Joel scramble, you yank your dress back over your breasts and pull the hem of it over your ass. Your panties are on the floor and you narrowly dodge Joel’s elbow as he hastily buckles his jeans back up just in time for the door around the corner to open with a shriek of the hinges.

“What if he’s gone out on patrol without telling me? Or maybe he’s swapped with someone and gone hunting? I know I’m back way earlier than he said but he said he’d be home! Do you think he’s left the gate? What if he’s hurt? What if - “ Ellie begins to ramble and Tommy sighs.

“Kiddo, stop worrying. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere, let’s look at the whiteboard and see if his name’s on there. I highly doubt he’s swapped shifts and he wouldn’t leave without telling you, he’s gotta be around here some…” Tommy’s reassurance comes to a stop when he round the corner of the hay bale wall and abruptly stops, staring at you and Joel with as much shock as you return.

Ellie slams into his back and he wobbles but his gaze never falters.

“What the fuck, man!” Ellie exclaims, shoving Tommy and stepping around his statue like form but also freezing too.

You look between them both, trying to formulate an excuse but Joel shoving his t-shirt on, the fact your clothes are crumpled and there’s absolutely hay in your tousled hair says it all.

Your panties are shoved behind your back out of view.

“Well I’ll be damned, you’re the guy she’s seein’!.” Tommy snorts, looking between you both. Joel growls, yanking on his flannel while Ellie manually retrieves her jaw from the floor.

“What the fuck is this?” She asks, looking between you and Joel. “You have a girlfriend? What the fuck, dude? You didn’t say anything!” She fumes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Look, it’s complicated and new.” He says, which placates her slightly. She stares at you again and you see the betrayal hidden behind a scowl, she looks at Joel again.

“Fine. I guess this isn’t that bad, it could be worse - we could of caught you with Esther.”

“That’s true.” Tommy nods, pointing at Ellie, she nods back.

“Esther?” You question, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, Tommy’s neighbour, she totally fancies Joel.” Ellie tells you. “You should fight her.”

“No, she doesn’t and stop shit stirring.” Joel warns Ellie, she hides a smirk which tells you she’s winding Joel up.

“I could take Esther.” You say, playing along, Ellie’s eyes brighten with mischief.

“Nobody’s fighting no one.” Joel settles, you’re all silent for a millisecond and then Tommy throws in his two cence.

“You could take Esther.” He agrees.

“Enough about Esther, please!” Joel begs, beside himself.

“This is fucking embarrassing, Joel. What the fuck do you expect us to do? It’s awkward!” Ellie complains, Tommy nods in agreement, you do too.

“Yeah? Try being where we’re stood, kid.” He retorts.

Ellie kinda has to resist the urge to throw up in her mouth because Joel has sex which is so horrifying that she almost can’t bare to look at him but she’s equally happy for him and utterly disgusted, she swallows back a retch.

“Fine, whatever. I’m very happy for you and my da - Joel.” Ellie bursts and corrects herself at the last minute, you don’t miss the hitch in Joel’s breathing but this is not the time for that discussion. “I’m willing to negotiate a price for the emotional damage you’ve both caused me by lying to me, sneaking around and also having sex in front of my horse.” She lists.

“My horse too!” Tommy adds.

“And Tommy’s horse too, Crash and Shimmer didn’t want to see your bare ass.” Ellie continues and for some reason Joel knows exactly where this is going, so he braces himself.

“Name your price.” He bites, Ellie looks at him with a levelling glare, it’s getting hard not to laugh when you see Tommy observing like he’s watching a mafia deal go down.

“A kitten.” Ellie reveals.

He fucking knew it.

[blondwhowrites]

(I don't know what this is but I like it)

You stared at Rafe, and your face screwed up in disgust. From where you stood in the kitchen, you could clearly see that he was laughing with his friends by the pool. They were probably talking about the girls they'd fucked this week. You raised your glass of water to your lips. Scrutinizing them was your favorite hobby. 

Sarah stood next to you with her homemade margarita. She seemed to be doing the exact same thing with you. You couldn't blame her; her brother and his friends were idiots.

"I bet he's high by the end of the day." You drank your water. "Why do I kind of hope he falls into the pool?" 

Sarah snorted into her margarita and nudged your shoulder. "I can push him in if you want me to," she offered, and she looked at you with a mischievous expression. 

You knew she was being serious, and you admired her bravery to do such an act to her crazy older brother. You guessed she got special privileges since she was family.

Your eyes trailed over Rafes figure once again. "I could take him in a fight," you surmised, placing your glass down on the kitchen counter. It couldn't be that hard to take him down. A kick in the nuts would probably do and a punch to the gut for good measures.  

"I would pay money to see that," Sarah replied, her lips quirking up in a smile. The thought of someone finally putting her brother in his place put a smile on her face. "He'd go easy on you, though. He's always had a soft spot for you." she added. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion. Soft on you? Rafe? You almost laughed. Either Sarah was delusional, or you were oblivious. There was absolutely no way Rafe Cameron had a soft spot for you. 

Sarah rolled her eyes. She knew you wouldn't take her comment seriously. "I'm being serious. He always acts differently toward you. Hell, he even dated Eva just so he could see you more often. I heard him talking about it to Kelce and Topper one time," she said, and she winced when she mentioned your once-best friend. Good thing that bitch was gone. 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, processing the new information. First of all, that was weird, and second of all, that seemed borderline stalkerish.

"I don't know whether I should be flattered or creeped out." 

Sarah shrugged. "I would say the ladder," she decided, and she took her final sip of her margarita.

Rafe now stared at you both, having noticed you and her watching him and his friends from the kitchen window. 

Sarah sent him an innocent smile, while you stared at him with a frown. You raised your hand and flicked him off. 

You grabbed your glass of water and turned away. "Come on, I don't want to be around when they come back inside." You beckoned, grabbing Sarah's wrist and dragging her towards her bedroom upstairs. 

Meanwhile, Rafe sat lounging by the pool with his friends. He watched you drag his sister away from the window right after you had flicked him off. He shook his head and huffed out a chuckle. It was good to see his future wife and sister get along so well. You two being bestfriends certainly made it a lot easier for him in the long run. 

[forever-rogue]

Hi bb 💕 the premiere of TLOU was so damn good and I’m so excited for the rest of the season! If you’re still writing for Joel and taking requests could we maybe have some domestic fluff with pre-outbreak Joel? Hopefully that’s enough to go off of! ☺️☺️💗

AN | I couldn’t help myself, dinner is served, bone app the teeth. It’s just fluff with a lil foreshadowing! Enjoy ❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was an early fall day that found you walking over to the Adler’s house and knocking on the door only to be greeted excitedly by Mercy’s barking. As soon as the door was open, the fluffy dog pushed his way past the screen door and over to you, weaving around your legs, tail wagging wildly as you reached down to pet him. 

“Sorry about him, sweetheart,” Mrs. Adler looked at the dog with a raised eyebrow, “he just loves people, but you know that by now.”

“Good thing I love him too. Huh buddy, you’re such a good boy,” you bent down and scratched his ears before kissing his snout, “is Sarah here? I just got to their house and wanted to see if she wanted to come home and help me with some baking.”

“She is,” the screen door opened and you stepped inside, immediately overwhelmed by the smell of cooking and that odor that older homes often had. You spotted the young girl at the kitchen table, but as soon as she heard you, she turned around with a huge smile, “do you girls want to stay for dinner?”

“No,” you and Sarah chorused before looking at each other sheepishly. You gave her a wink before clearing your throat.

“Thank you for the offer,” you smiled sweetly, “Joel’s going to be home soon and we’d promised him some cookies so…we’d better get to baking!”

“Of course,” she seemed unphased by your lame excuse, which to be fair wasn’t a total lie, “well, you know you’re both welcome any time. And Joel.”

“Thank you,” you grabbed Sarah’s backpack as soon as it was packed up and herded the young girl towards the door, “have a good evening.”

As soon as the two of you were outside, after having given Mercy a few more pets, you exchanged a look before both breaking into a fit of giggles.

“You came just in time,” Sarah sighed dramatically, “she was just about to start knitting and insisted on showing me how to knit today.”

“I knew I was getting some distressed vibes for a reason,” you gently nudged her side with your elbow, “don’t worry kiddo, I’ll always be there to save you. Especially from old ladies and their knitting. I can’t imagine a worse fate.”

“Seriously,” she unlocked the door and the two of you stepped into the Millers’ quiet house. You liked it here, it felt so homey and lived in, filled with lots of laughs and love. You cringed when you realized how cheesy that sounded, even in your head, but it was true. In the almost two years you’d been with Joel, it had all but become your home too, “did you mean it when you said we’re doing some baking?”

“Sarah, my sweet Sarah,” you kicked off your shoes as you made your way into the kitchen, laughing internally at the half consumed glass of orange juice and cup of coffee from this morning. They had been running late…again. How very on brand for both of them, “would I ever lie to you?”

“You haven’t yet,” she grinned as you nodded. 

“And I expected you to always be truthful with me,” you put the dirty dishes into the sink, “did you get all your homework finished?”

“Yup,” she grinned, “finished it with enough time to even sell some hardcore drugs.”

“I’m impressed,” you snorted in amusement, “you managed to get to Mrs. Adler’s, do your homework, sell some drugs, and make it back before anyone noticed you were gone. That is some skill.”

“Totally,” she laughed as you high fived each other. Truth be told, she’d hadn’t been sure about you when Joel first introduced the two of you. And you couldn’t blame her; she was fiercely protective over her father. It had been just the two of them for basically her entire life - her mother, Joel’s wife, had left the two of them when she was only a few months old. She didn’t even remember her own mother. And the idea that a stranger was going to come and change everything? It was terrifying. 

But you never pushed or forced yourself into her business, and let her warm up to you. You wondered at first if it had anything to do with the fact that you were a bit younger than Joel, but quickly learned it was all just because she loved him so much. And he loved her just as much and then some. But over time, she’d come to love you too and you loved her. 

These days it was Sarah pushing Joel to just finally have you officially move in. Again, that one was on Joel. You weren’t going to push him either. This was just as new for him; you were the only person he’d dated since his wife. But you loved the Millers and you knew that your future held both of them in it. That was all that mattered.

“How about some chocolate chip cookies?” you suggested and her face eagerly lit up as she nodded, “okay but, tell me how much your dad would hate it, if we tried to make pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.”

“He’d love them, but he’d never admit it,” she said and you knew she was right, “how about we make both?”

“A grand plan,” you smiled, “throw on a record and let’s get started. Maybe we can have everything ready before he’s home.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Something smells good,” neither of you had heard Joel come in, but when you turned around you found him leaning against the doorway, a lazy smile on his face. You shook your head in amusement as Sarah ran over to him and hugged, “hey baby girl.”

“You’re home early for once,” she grinned at him, and he playfully rolled his eyes, “that’s what you should be doing, as a man of such advanced age.”

“Thirty-five isn’t advanced, it’s-”

“Ancient,” you finished for him, smiling sweetly as he jokingly flipped you off, “we only tease out of love.”

“Some kind of love,” he huffed, affectionately touching Sarah’s cheek, “go on and set the dining table, okay?”

“Sure,” she smirked, looking between the two of you with a knowing little smile, “you just want to make out. I’m not a child, I know these things!”

“Table,” he groaned, taking her by the shoulders and gently ushered her out of the kitchen. She ran off, giggling under her breath, “and you are a kid!”

“Whatever!”

He turned his attention onto where you were leaning against the counter, setting his arms on either side of your body, affectionately trapping you in his grasp, “the two of you are always ganging up on me. Shoulda known you were going to be trouble.”

“Good trouble?” you reached up and put your hand on his face, swiping your thumb over the apple of his cheek. Joel always was a little rough around the edges, but you loved that about him. You loved how underneath that exterior, he had a kind, gentle heart.

“The best,” he took your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Despite his best efforts, you could still see the faintest blush in his cheeks, “just so you know, I want to make out, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction. We’re saving this for later.”

“Aye aye,” you mock saluted him and he snorted in amusement, “we made cookies. And your favorite for dinner, so I’ll be expecting a lot of thanks later.”

“Baby,” he closed his eyes and groaned softly, “you’re killing me.”

“And you’re letting dinner burn in the oven, so move it,” you put your hands on his hips and shuffled him to the side. You felt him watching your every move closely, “stop staring at my ass and help me, please.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, but it was nothing but fondness…and it didn’t stop him from teasingly slapping your ass as you made a sound of surprise, “now I’ll help.”

“You are the worst, Joel Miller.”

What you really meant was I love you with every fiber of my being, Joel Miller.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you even paying attention to the movie?” you looked up at Joel, and nodded sleepily, pulling yourself off him as if to prove a point. You’d been lying on his chest, his arm around you for the last hour as you tried to focus on whatever silly movie he’d put on, “mhmm.”

“Shh,” you waved him off, “it’s not my fault you have terrible taste in movies.”

“This is a piece of cinema,” he joked, just as someone else on screen was getting their head chopped off, “niche cinema.”

“Sure Joel,” you yawned softly, “it’s getting late. I should-”

“Just stay baby,” he insisted and despite the fact that you knew he would, your stomach flipped happily, “I don’t want you driving late at night when you’re this tired.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist as he tugged you closer to him. You were soft and malleable and let him pull you into his lap, “but you’ve convinced me to stay.”

You leaned in to kiss him, slowly at first, suddenly feeling wide awake. Your body hummed with energy as his hands found purchase on your waist and he kissed you back with just as much eagerness. He really did make good on his makeout promise from earlier. And he kissed you until you were breathless and dizzy, grinning at him shyly.

“You’re so warm and soft,” he mused as his hand dipped under your sweater and spread his fingers along your ribs, “and beautiful.”

“Is that what you say to all the girls?” you teased softly and he let out a bark of laughter.

“Just you,’ he promised, as if you needed some sort of reassurance. You beamed as you leaned into him and peppered kisses along his jaw and down his glorious neck, “you keep this up longer and-”

“We’re not having sex on the couch,” you laughed quietly, a sound that went straight to his heart. He really loved you, he thought at that moment, “where one - Sarah could walk in on us any moment and two - we all sit on here. Bedroom, Miller.”

“Fine,” he pouted and you turned his face up towards yours as you kissed the pout away. A serious look crossed his features when you pulled away, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh oh. That’s never a good idea-”

“Hush,” he pressed a finger to his lips and you pressed a kiss to it, “I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time you actually moved in. Officially.”

“Yeah?” your heart swelled and felt like it was about to burst with pure happiness. He nodded and there was a gentle hopeful look in his big brown eyes that you loved, “okay y-yeah. Yes. I’d really like that too.”

“Yeah?” This time it was his turn to ask for reassurance.

“Yeah,” you promised, cradling his handsome face in your hands. You kissed him a few more times, reverent and saccharine, before you pulled back again, “bedroom?”

“You read my mind.”

“Joel?” you paused for just a moment before either of you could move, “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Forever?”

“Forever,” he smiled softly, “and then even longer.”

[talaok]

The Mask

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You ask your husband Joel to buy a Ghostface mask to wear during your "alone time", and he’s more than happy to comply

Warnings: smut| mask kink, sir kink, degradation, threats of anal (but no actual anal), unprotected p in v sex, choking, Joel has a bit too much fun fulfilling your fantasy... but then also aftercare and soft husband!Joel cause ill always go back to my fluffy roots (also i don't specify it but obv they've talked about all their boundaries and everything, so they know each other's limits)

It had been such a stressful day that the last thing you had in mind was what had happened yesterday.

With Sarah wanting to change costume last minute because apparently she now hated the idea of being a princess and wanted to be a witch, with Molly's helicopter of a mom constantly calling you to make sure your daughter wouldn't get to the sleepover with lice or carrying a snack that god forbid had gluten in it... it had been such a hectic day that, once Joel finally managed to ride Sarah to her Halloween sleepover, all you wanted to do was lie in bed and hide under the covers... which is what you did...for twenty minutes, before you surrendered to the inevitable task of cleaning up the mess you'd made on the vanity from doing Sarah's makeup.

And it was then, as you were huffing and sighing loudly into what you thought was an empty house, that a figure appeared behind you, making your body run cold with fear, and your heart start to beat out of your chest.

You remained immobilized, frozen in your spot, watching from the mirror as the figure approached, backing away from where he was leaning on the door to walk towards you slowly...

And then you got it, your brain recovered from the scare and you pieced it together.

Such a quick conversation, such a quick decision you'd made as you shopped for Sarah's costume, that in all the chaos, it had managed to slip your mind.

"Ghostface?" he'd frowned once you handed him the mask "I don't think Sarah's even old enough to watch that movie"

And at that you had smiled, looking up at him with that devilish smile you got whenever you got a special idea.

"it's not for her"

his brows knitted in puzzlement again

God, for being such a smart man he sure was dense sometimes

"You wanna dress up too sweetheart?" he asked, making you inevitably snort.

"No" you'd laughed "it's for you"

"for me? what would I need to put this on f-"

And that was when he got it, watching you bite your bottom lip, as that particular spark lighted your eyes, then, he finally put it together.

"ohhh" he he breathed, a smirk making its way to his lips as soon as he realized "Oh yeah, we're definitely buying this"

And that's how you ended up here, watching your masked husband grab your waist to host you up so you were flashed against him, against his tight black t-shirt and black jeans.

You couldn't feel his breath, but you could hear him breathe heavily beside your neck, right against your ear, looking at you from the mirror and studying you as if you were a pray.

Now this wasn't the first time you'd asked him to do something... kinkier, you had made him buy a blindfold, you had your fair amount of toys locked in your bedside drawer, and you were sure some rope and one of those little leather whips you'd purchased once were still somewhere in your wardrobe, but this, the dressing up, the putting on a mask... this, you'd never done, this was all new...

And god were you excited.

"so..." he spoke, his voice huskier than usual, a giveaway of just how much he was enjoying this too already "You've got a boyfriend?"

Now if he got to play the part, so wanted you. 

What fun would this be otherwise?

"I've got a husband" you murmured, your voice faint, seemingly scared.

"mh..." he hummed, his head tilting downwards as if he was looking at you up and down "Lucky husband"

You wanted to say something, anything, but before you could even breathe he had turned you around, his strong, veiny hands gripping your waist.

"P-please" you shut your eyes "Please don't hurt me Mr. Ghostface"

A faint chuckle came from beside the mask

"It's sir" he corrected

Oh he knew you so fucking well

"I-I'm sorry... sir" you whimpered, trying to get used to not getting to look into his hazel eyes, but instead into two big black holes. 

"A-are you gonna hurt me, sir?"

His thick fingers caressed your sides, as he took his time answering you

"no" he finally said "Not if you behave" he explained, his grip tightening, a simple gesture, a simple threat "Are you gonna behave y/n?"

"y-yes" you nodded, actually believing it now, actually losing yourself in the fantasy.

He didn't need to say anything, all he did was tilt his head, and you had realized your mistake.

"yes, sir"

"good girl"

Just two words, and your panties were drenched.

He didn't speak, all he did was break away from you to walk backward until he could sit on the edge of the bed, watching you expectantly.

"go on"

that's all he said, and fuck but that's all you needed.

Your eyes remained on him as you took off every piece of your clothing. You started softly tugging your shirt off, listening to his breathing falter, then you got rid of your pants, then it was time to undo your bra, and then finally, finally you were shuffling your panties down your legs just to step out of them.

A whispered groan fled his lips at the sight, and he couldn't help but stand up to meet you.

His right palm landed on your asscheeks before you even realized what was happening, and a soft whimper escaped your throat in response

"real lucky husband" he growled

An hour ago, you were trying his daughter's Halloween costume on her in this exact room, and now there you were, naked, in front of your masked husband.

"please sir" you pleaded

"What?" he hushed "What do you want?"

He was slowly rounding you, bringing a hand around your torso with him, sending shivers everywhere they could be

"I-I"

"I want to hear you say it" he purred, right against your ear now "I want to hear you beg for my cock, beg for me to fuck you, I know you want it"

"I- Sir, I-"

"I want you to admit just how much of a slut you are" he murmured, now in front of you "I want you to admit just how much you want it"

“Please Sir-i need you”

“Mhh” he hummed, “what do you need?”

His left hand started a slow path down your belly, igniting shivers with his touch, until he was right there, and all he did was cup your pussy and he broke you completely

“You, I-inside of me” you whimpered

"is that right?" he taunted, tilting his head

"yes" you nodded "yes, please sir-"

But once again, he had turned you around like a doll, powerless to his strength, and stole your words from your tongue.

The table rutted from the impact once he pushed your back down on it, your head almost hitting the hardwood.

"Is this what you want?" 

His rough jeans and hard bulge were flashed against your bare ass, making you squirm.

"answer me" he demanded, gripping your hair to yank your head back so you could look at him from the mirror "I asked you a question"

"yes" you murmured "Yes please"

A snicker made its way to your ears as you heard the familiar sound of his zipper undoing.

"aren't you the little whore..." he growled, his insult only rendering you all the more desperate as he slapped his cock on your asscheeks "You'd let me put it anywhere I want?" he mocked, his tip infiltrating between your crack and probing at your other entrance "even in this pretty little hole?"

You gasped.

"I bet you would" he teased "I bet you'd let me do anything I want with you" his head tilted to the left, watching you biting your lip as you tried to keep a straight face, and failing miserably "you're just a poor slut that's desperate to be filled, you don't care in which hole, do you?" he asked now, "answer me"

"y-yes" you stuttered "I-I'm a slut, I'll take anything you'll give me sir, just please-"

"please what?"

"please put it in"

you couldn't see the smirk on his lips, but you sure as hell could hear it.

"Since you asked so nicely..."

And it was then, it was then that he trusted his whole length and girth inside of you with one single push, making you cry out into the thick air and forcing the whole table to shake just for him to not even wait a second, he didn't give you a moment to breathe, a moment to recover, no, he did the opposite... he started splitting you in fucking half.

All the remaining makeup on the vanity was tumbling down onto the floor one by one, but he didn't show signs of slowing down, or god forbid stopping.

The sound of his skin slapping with yours bounced off the walls with each merciless thrust, and you... you were fucking gone.

"look at that" his grip on your hair tightened as he forced your head back even more "I want you to see how much you like this" he groaned, his digits on your waist definitely leaving marks "How much of a slut you are" he spoke "how much you enjoy getting fucked by a stranger"

You wanted to say something, anything really, but as you watched your reflection, your eyes spilling tears, your cheeks wet and your mascara smudged all over... all your mouth could produce were moans, or whimpers, or curses not even belonging to the English language each time his dick hit that spot inside of you that made you want to scream.

"Look at that" Your scalp hurt as he fisted your hair more "Look at how fucking pathetic you look" he spit as you gasped for air and as you felt your belly tighten in that way it did before your release.

"you're gonna cum already?" he realized, his tone mocking "The slut likes it so much she's not even gonna last a minute?"

"Mh-mh" you hummed, "y-yes, I-it's too..." Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you gripped the edge of the table until your knuckles went white as the orgasm unexpectantly overtook your whole body, only letting you moan out a "good" before you were back to a non-verbal state and cried in pleasure.

He let you ride out your high, but as soon as you came down he had manhandled you and threw you on the bed back down, not even giving you a moment to realize what was happening before he had slipped his cock inside you again.

His hand took hold of your arms and pinned them above your head as you arched your back at the feeling of this new angle. It wasn't as deep but the way his pelvis rutted against your clit with each movement of his hips, made it all just as breathtaking, and speaking of which...

His other hand sneaked up your chest, diverting a moment to grab at your boobs before he was wrapping his fingers around your throat, first gently and then applying more and more pressure, until you were completely in a sensory overload and all you could feel was pleasure in its purest form.

"fuck-look at that, you're so desperate for this cock that your pussy's sucking me back in"

He taunted, his thrusts remaining as unforgiving as ever. 

you had lost all touch with reality, this wasn't your husband, this wasn't you, this wasn't your bedroom this was- you didn't even know what it was, you just knew your brain had stopped working long ago, and you were on the verge of another mindblowing orgasm

"what would your husband think seeing you like this?" he purred as he forced your head to the mirror again, and this time, the image you were met with was only more of a mess, your cheeks red, your mascara nonexistent, and your mouth parted, desperately looking for air that it wasn't gonna find any time soon...

"drunk on another man's cock" he continued, his grip on your neck tightening to the point you were seeing black dots staining your vision "Not even able to speak anymore" he groaned "Look at yourself... such a fucking whore"

And then inevitably, as fucked up as that may be, those words sent you over the edge, your legs shaking and your walls tightening around him as you moaned louder than you'd ever had.

And at the feeling you were granting him, he couldn't help but follow suit, filling you up with a loud groan, until his juices and yours mixed as they ran down your thighs.

It took more than a moment for either of you to get back to reality, but as always, Joel managed to beat you to it, pulling out of you and taking his mask off, revealing his flushed and fucked out state as he whispered a low "fuck"

"sweetheart?" he called, stroking your cheek once you wouldn't open your eyes "Are you ok?" he asked "Did I go too far?"

"n-no" you murmured almost inaudibly as you shook your head "You were... perfect, I'm just" a yawn interrupted your words

Tired. 

he didn't need you to finish the sentence, all he did was pick you up and place you softly on your side of the bed, positioning your head gently on the pillow

"stay here, I'll clean you up"

As if there was any chance you'd get out of bed after that

And he did, he cleaned you between your thighs with a wet cloth, gave you a tall glass of water to drink, and then set you under the covers just to join you a moment later, watching you crawl closer to him until each part of your body was touching one of his.

"Better?" he asked, petting your hair as you looked up at him with your head on his chest 

"yes" you smiled "Thank you"

he stroked your back as he leaned down to kiss you "I love you" he promised

"I love you" you vowed back

He smiled too now as he leaned back on the headboard

"you wanna watch something?"

"sure"

"mhh" he hummed, pointing the remote at the tv "Got anything in mind?"

And there it was again, that dangerous dangerous grin

"How about Scream?"

[softlyspector]

Picture

Summary: You really want to take Joel's picture. He can't really figure out why.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: ~2.1k

Warnings: nudity, taking nude pictures, smuttish themes and allusions but no actual smut, Joel being kinda dense/insecure about his looks, mostly unedited

A/N: Happy Sunday! Brought to you by more brain worms that caused this when I was supposed to be working on other things. Something tells me that Joel doesn't exactly know how pretty he is, so this is a result of that thought.

“Just one picture,” you plead.

You're smiling, holding the polaroid camera in your hands at an angle, naked as the day you were born where you straddle his hips. 

Your thighs are wet, your release and his smeared between your thighs and his and over his hip and waist. His cock is already half hard again, and the movement of you wriggling back as you aim down at him doesn’t help.

He grunts and digs his fingers into the meat of your thighs. You just laugh at him, readjusting your grip on the camera.

Joel's eyes slide over you, the curve of your waist, the plush fold of your thigh and hip, the dip of your breasts and peaks of your nipples. He wants to reach for you, pull you down into him, but settles for rubbing his palms over your thighs instead, tracing circles there. 

You’re still dewy with exertion; your skin glows in the low lamplight of his bedroom. Joel isn’t really sure how he got so lucky, lucky enough to have someone like you focusing all their attention on him. 

“And what, darlin’, do you plan on doin’ with such a picture?”

He ain’t big on pictures. He poses for them with Sarah sometimes, just because he wants her to be able to look at them when she's older, mostly for the memories and so she has something of her old man when she’s grown. 

Joel figures he isn’t really much to look at, so the why of the picture is miffing him just a little. Why would you want a picture of him? Especially one like the one you're attempting to get him to take now?

He’s fairly sure you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on.

He’s also fairly sure you’re out of his league by miles and miles. So if anyone should have their picture taken, it's you.

You hold the camera up to your eye and aim it at him, but your finger remains decidedly still against the button. “It’d be just for me. You're too handsome to share with anyone else.”

He rolls his eyes and anchors his hands on your hips. “Right.”

“You are,” you reaffirm, lowering the camera. “So pretty." You pause and tilt your head. "I won't take it if you don't want me to. But maybe I could sweeten the deal a little?”

“How's that, honey?” He traces one hand over the curve of your waist, runs the knuckles of his opposite hand delicately up your side, until he can swipe his thumb against the underside of your breast. 

You shiver and lean into his grip, your eyes a shade darker than before. 

“I’ll let you take one of me. A really scandalous, salacious one,” you promise, carefully setting the camera on the messy bed before you lean over him. You cup his face in your hands, eyes flicking over him like there’s something to see. 

Like he's a vault you can't quite figure how to unlock.

He raises a brow. “And mine won’t be?”

“Not as scandalous, not if you don't want it to be. I’m not angling to push my luck with you, Joel Miller.” 

He snorts again, sliding one hand against the back of your neck to keep you pressed close to him. You close your eyes and breath out, a delicate little sigh that puffs over his lips.

The room is warm, too warm. The fan running in the corner does little to stir the heat in the room and nothing to dispel the heat between your bodies. He won’t say he minds though. He was plenty hot before, but if it kept you pliant and naked in his bed, he won’t complain about it. 

His eyes flick down, over your bare body. Something beautiful and soft. Something really worth taking a picture of. 

“Just can’t see why you’d want somethin’ like that.” 

“Well,” you murmur, rubbing the tip of your nose against the side of his. “You don’t have to see why. Just know I do.” You blink your eyes open and tilt your head against his.

Joel wants to hear it though, something in him really wants to know. So, against his better judgment, he asks again, “Why?”

You pull back a fraction, even though he keeps a steady pressure on the back of your neck, trying to keep you near. Your eyes are clear and curious, maybe a little confused. “Joel,” you laugh, leaning down to kiss him, thumbs running over his cheeks. You taste sweet, a little like yourself, and bitter, a little like him. “I mean…” you trail off against his mouth. “Do you want one of me?” 

“Yeah, ‘course I do.”

He’d keep that picture somewhere safe, somewhere that only his eyes were ever in danger of seeing it. If you trusted him to keep it safe for you. 

Joel would look at it, on the nights you couldn’t come over. Fist his hand around himself and daydream of you, think about how nothing and no one else would ever be as good as you, as your pussy wrapped snugly around his cock. 

You arch an eyebrow at him, like you can see all the thoughts running through his head. “Right, so why wouldn’t I want one of you?” 

He squeezes the back of your neck gently and then releases you, tracing a finger over the shell of your ear and cupping your cheek. “Well, we ain’t exactly twins.” 

Joel means it as a joke but you suddenly jerk back, your eyes darting over him. “You don’t know, do you?” 

“Know what?” 

You don’t answer, rolling your eyes at him instead. He lets you pull back from him reluctantly, the warmth of your palms on his face disappearing. You shift back until you’re sitting mostly on his thighs, the warmth of your pussy leaking right over his cock. You rock your hips against him just once, smiling and grabbing the camera when he hisses and hooks his hands against you, to still the movement of you over him. 

“You’ll be the death of me,” he says, leaving little crescents in your thighs and then divots by your hip bones. 

“No I will not,” you disagree. “Now, look here, Miller. One picture. Then we look at it together and if you absolutely hate it and still don’t get it—well, you can watch me rip it up.” 

There’s nothing he’d really say no to you about. And this is harmless, with a built in out. “Fine,” he grumbles. 

“Fine,” you repeat, pitching your voice to match his, accent and all. “Jesus, you’d think I asked for the moon!”

“The moon would be more understandable, darlin’.” 

“Yeah alright, okay, hush.” You lift the camera to your eye and then lower it immediately, frowning at him. 

“What? Comin’ to some kid of realization—”

You aren’t, evidently, just rearranging his limbs—tucking one arm above his hand, running a hand through his already messy hair, angling his jaw slightly up. You unfurl his other clenched fist and splay his fingers over the middle of his belly. 

“There,” you say with a nod, seeming satisfied with your work. 

A long moment passes where you just look at him, tracing your fingers over the vein on the inside of his bicep and over the curve of his shoulder. 

Something like embarrassment claws up the inside of his chest. He should be looking at you like that, not the other way around.  

“What?” His voice is gritted and sharp. 

You just smile at those jagged edges. “Nothing. Just committing this to memory in case you make me tear up my picture.” 

“See,” he grouses. “It’s like you don’t need a picture at all.” 

You just roll your eyes and lean back. Joel has to resist the urge to move, to reach out and cup his hand against your lower back to steady you. “Stop making that face,” you say, camera pressed to your eye. 

He frowns, and you giggle and snap the picture without warning. 

The camera whirs and spits out a picture, which you pluck up and unceremoniously roll off of him and into the empty space next to him on the bed, shaking the picture by its edge as you go. A cloud of your scent puffs up around him, like sex and the taste of your skin, that dark perfume you always wear like the black of forests long forgotten. “It’s gonna be a good one,” you say, pillowing your head on his shoulder and tangling one leg over his.

“Am I allowed to move now?” He grumbles. 

The acid sarcasm on his tongue makes you laugh. “Sure, baby,” you coo, “whatever you want.” Joel rests his chin on the top of your head, and you keep shaking the photo until it's developed enough that he can see the outlines of his figure.

It’s then that you turn it away so he can’t see it. 

He watches your face instead, but you don’t give anything away. You stay silent and still, your eyes flicking over the image curiously. He can’t read the cut of your gaze. “C’mon, honey,” he pleads. “Put me outta my misery and lemme see it.” 

“Okay,” you agree softly after another long minute of silent staring. 

And then you tilt the picture towards him so he can see it. 

Joel gets the sense he’s looking at another person, someone other than him. The man in the photo looks—well, not worn, not tired. He's...well, if he had to say, he'd say he's handsome. Pretty, as you said.

He’s frowning, but it reads as a…maybe a brooding kind of sexy. There are things he doesn’t like—the crinkled lines by his eyes, the softness of his belly, the lock of hair that sticks straight up off his forehead. 

But, the rest of it. Golden skin, taut muscle in his arms and chest, dark hair on his belly that leads lower. His jaw is sharp, his eyes dark. Your soft thighs bracket his hips, just barely in frame. He likes that he can see part of you in the picture too. He likes that he can see traces of you on his skin—purpled bruises on his collarbone that the neck of his t-shirt would hide from everyone else's gaze, the sheen of something damp on his stomach just below his veined hand. 

Now, maybe he understands a little more. Maybe he can at least understand why you’d want the picture. 

“So,” you start after a few minutes of relative silence in the muted hum of the fan working overtime in the corner of the room, the sound of your breathing mixing with his. “Do you see now? Or do I have to rip it up?” 

Joel turns his head to meet your bright gaze, the answer already known to you. Instead of answering you, he asks, “When do I get to take your picture, sweetheart?” 

You ignore him. “It’s because you’re so handsome.” You trace the picture with your thumb, your eyes locked back on his image. “How is it that you don’t know?” Joel isn’t sure you’re talking to him anymore. “You don't know you're so...pretty,” you say again. “And just how I like you. With those big, dark eyes and—”

“Alright,” he cuts you off, his voice caught in the back of his throat. “That’s enough a’ that. You don’t have to rip it up.” 

“Good, I wouldn’t have anyway.” 

You would have, if he’d asked you. “My question stands—when do I get to take yours?” 

You roll away from him and carefully set the picture on the bedside table. “After you fuck me again.” Something in your gaze darkens, desire pooling in the depths of your eyes.

Joel chuckles, warmth burrowing down in his chest. “Why not now?” 

“Well, won’t I be all glowy and loose then? Y’know, like blissed out.” 

“Tall order,” he comments as you press yourself into his arm, the weight of you pleasant, your eyes dark and waiting, wanting. 

“Not for you.” 

Maybe you’re just trying to stroke his ego, but he doesn’t care because it's working and it's probably true. He's good to you, for you.

Your legs lock around his hips when he slots himself over you, pressing his hips to yours and to the needy warmth between your legs. When your eyes flutter back, he thinks that’s something he’d like to have a picture of. 

That, and everything else, every other part of you. 

“What if I want more than one picture?” 

“Picture for a picture,” you sigh as he drags his mouth down the side of your throat, the taste of your skin like the salted sea. “That’s the only way it’s gonna work.” 

Maybe he can learn to live with that, if he gets to see you look at him the way you looked at that picture. 

[starkeysbaby]

“i don’t care if he’s brazilian babe”

pairing: rafe x reader [est. relationship] 

warnings: mention of private parts, fluff, angst? (if you count rate being jealous and overprotectiive as angst lol)

summary: at a sleepover with kie and sarah, they convince you to tease your jealous and overprotective boyfriend...

a/n: keep seeing gfs prank their bf with this on tiktok and imagine how rafe would react.. also thinking of making the title of my fics my fav quote in the fic, whatcha think?

rafe masterlist  main masterlist

reader has rafe stressinggg in this😭  

[please leave requests in asks inbox]

“so what’d you three get up to this weekend?” asked rafe as he kept his eyes on the road, one hand on the steering wheel and on your thigh. He had just picked you and kiara up from kie’s house after you, her and sarah spent the last 2 nights there for a weekend away from the boys. The rest of the pogues decided to have a kegger tonight, both kooks and pogues welcome, so rafe picked us up on his way there whilst sarah had been picked up by john b earlier.

“oh not much” you replied playing with his hand as he drove “just a bit of shopping then we went to the waxing parlour...” you smiled, kie in the back trying to control the laughter itching to burst out, knowing what is about to come. You yourself too struggled to contain your laughter as you thought back to the conversation at kie’s earlier.

-

“omg you should totally prank rafe with this,” kie laughed out, shuffling over sarah to show you her phone, ”he would lose his shit.” she added on with a bright but sly smile on her face, watching and waiting for my reaction.

It was a tiktok of a girl pranking her boyfriend saying that she got a brazilian wax done... by a man. [a brazilian wax is waxing your pubic hairs/waxing the hairs down there 👀]

You laughed out at the guy’s manly reaction to another guy seeing his girl’s pussy and imagined what rafe would say. It was no secret to anyone that rafe was overprotective. He always had an arm around you at a party and barely ever took his eyes off of you when you seperate from him. He’s also known to get jealous at times after breaking a few guys noses here and there for just looking at you the wrong way. You didn’t mind it much, as long as he didn’t get to the point where you felt as though he was controlling you. And it never did, in fact it made you feel loved and special, the fact that rafe cared so much about you.

“omg y/n you have to do this on rafe” begged sarah placing emphasis on the ‘have’. “i don't know guys... you know how rafe gets.” you replied, feeling yourself get lured into their shenanigans. “i know!” sarah piped up. “if you prank rafe with this, i’ll prank john b with it too,” she exlaimed, jumping up at her genius idea. “okay, but kie has to do it on JJ then” you bargained, causing you and sarah to turn your heads to kie. “fine” she huffed out, rolling her eyes but smiling, excited to prank the boys.

-

“i still can’t believe how we barely felt any pain at all this” kie piped up from the back, itching to get the prank started. “daniel did such an amazing job, i’m definitely going back to him” she smirked waiting for it to sink through rafe’s head. “daniel?” rafe snorted and laughed, “i hope you mean danielle, and what do you mean he?” he wondered out loud, continuously flicking his eyes back and forth from you and the road waiting for your reply. Well here goes nothing! “no kie’s right, it was a guy named daniel” you stated non chalantly “there weren’t any women available so we had to go with him”. He removed his hand from your thigh, placing it on the steering wheel with his other, “and you couldn’t go anywhere else” he asked, clearly getting irritated at how casual you were about all this. “everywhere else was closed for maitenance after the storm last week, what else were we meant to do” you half lied, proud of yourself for coming up with an excuse that quickly. “i don’t know, maybe go another day?” rafe retorted, raising his voice at the last couple of words.

The next few minutes went by without any word from the three of you, kie in the back sensing the tension and kind of wishing the prank was done alone between just you and rafe. She’d rather have not been there and hear about it than sit here in this awkward silence. 

After a few more minutes you arrived at the beach. As soon as rafe parked the car, kie jumped out muttering a “thanks” desperate to get away from the awkward situation. “bye kie, we’ll find you guys later”. After she was out of an earshot you turned to rafe to see him searching all the waxing parlours in the area on his phone. “rafe” nothing. “what are you doing?” you smiled, unaware to him. “tryna find out who the fuck this daniel guy is” he muttered, too engrossed with his newfound mission. “rafe please” you grabbed his phone and placed it on the phone holder and took his hands in yours making him look at you. His eyes were furious. If looks could kill you’d be gone by now. You pondered for a moment on whether you should continue the prank or not, eventually deciding to since you had come this far anyways and frankly, you had found it funny how pissed off rafe was at this. 

“i’m sorry baby, i didnt think you’d get this upset” you chuckled giving him a small peck on the lips. “what do you mean by that y/n, i’m your boyfriend, of course i’m not gonna like another guy touching your body” he dropped his head to the steering wheel as he started to lose his cool. “and here you are acting like it’s the most normal fucking thing in the world” he finished. “cmon rafe, this is his job. he sees at least ten naked bodies a day, he’s not remembering mine” you internally smiled to yourself for the ‘naked’ comment, knowing that would push him off the edge. “what do you mean naked y/n? where did this guy wax you?” rafe was scared now, interally praying that daniel didn’t wax you where he thinks he did “it was a brazilian wax babe” you smiled. “i don’t care if he’s brazilian babe” you mentally face palmed yourself at your boyfriend’s lack of knowledge of a brazilian wax. “no baby, a brazilian wax is... yknow... down there” you motioned to between your legs whilst rafe looked like he’d just witnessed a murder. “what?! you’re telling me another guy saw you NAKED naked?!” it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to not laugh at this. “yes but-” “no y/n. no buts. how would you feel if i let another girl shave my fucking balls?!” he laughed but was clearly unamused by what you were telling him “you have no idea who this guy is and what he’s like” he finished. “no its not like that, he was really sweet” you said making rafe laugh “of course he was y/n. he was staring at your fucking pussy and you let him. do you know what kinda signal that gives to a guy?” he questioned. “no it’s fine, i told him i have a boyfriend and he said you’re really lucky by the way!”

Rafe couldn’t believe his ears. He knew how kind and trusting you were, even to people who didn’t deserve it. While it was one of his favourite things about you, it also scared him knowing that there are people out there who could easily take advantage of that kindness. That’s maybe why he felt the need to make this way worse than it actually was.

“do you hear yourself right now y/n” he pleaded with you to see where he was coming from. “i’m sorry, i only did it for you” you muttered looking down, really getting into your role for this prank. “yknow i don’t mind a little fuzz” he said making you cringe as he chuckled, looking down on you and tucking a few stray hair strands behind your ear. Rafe decided he had given you enough shit for this and what’s done is done, as long as it doesn’t happen again. “im still gonna have to talk to this daniel guy” he said calming down, stroking your face and wrapping his arms around you as you leaned into him “give him a piece of my mind yknow” he teased. “you don’t have to do that” you looked up at him beaming, deciding it’s time you stop this silly prank. “oh yeah? why’s that?” he smiled, giving you tiny pecks across your cheek moving down to your neck. “cuz i’m only messing with you” you laughed as rafe pulled his head back, confused. “huh?” “there’s no guy named daniel. it’s just this stupid prank kie and sarah begged me to play on you” you explained while reaching your arm out to scratch the back of his neck. 

Rafe didn’t know whether to be amused or embarrassed at the scene he caused over a small prank. He didn’t know whether to blame you for pranking him or his sister for planting such ideas in your head. As he watched you laugh and look so happy at the little rise you got out of him tonight, he couldn’t be mad. He found it so fucking adorable how small things like this could make you laugh so much and just brighten your day. Next thing you knew, rafe was attacking your face with kisses while tickling you. 

“omg rafe sto- STOP” you laughed out, unable to contain yourself. “you sorry for that mean prank?” rafe questioned not stopping his attack. “yes yes i’m sorry!!” he finally slowed down as your laughs gradually disappeared. “let’s go. everyone’s probably wondering where we are” you said before quickly pecking his nose and making a move to get out the car. Rafe quickly stopped you and brought his lips to your ear “ok but when we get back to mine, i wanna see how your brazilian wax turned out” he whispered before nipping at your earlobe and letting you go.

You both laughed at his boyish antics before making your way to the rest of your friends, ready to tell kie and sarah how the prank turned out, only to be met with a pissed off JJ and John B which was probably due to kie and sarah living up to their end of the deal.

a/n: well that was it. i think this is the first time ive written in a few months and the third overall fic i’ve ever written so im open to feedback. pls i need the criticism to improve 😭

[yeeterthek33per]

I want to hear you say it (Zećira Mušović x Reader)

A/n requested

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, jealous Z, unwanted flirtations. Terrible swedish translations.

As if today couldn’t have gotten any worse, it felt like a major kick in the stomach when you were forcibly dragged away from your own car after training and shoved into the back of Sam’s for team social night. 

It had started off with you nearly not waking up to your third and final alarm of the day leaving you running into training late, much to the annoyance of Emma and the girls who had to join you in sprints this morning.

After that rough start to training, you were then volunteered to introduce the new girl to the rest of the team, a young twenty-something fresh out of the Chelsea grassroots academy.

She was nice but a bit overbearing, practically hanging off you for the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, this left you with little time to spend with your favourite person.

-

Zećira, much like yourself, was ridiculously grumpy all training. Normally she’d have you to herself for most of it. 

Of course, being a striker and a goalkeeper, you had separate sessions to each other, but the warmups are generally intermingled.

So, when you had paired up for drills, you were the first person to grab her, just about growling at anyone who tried to pair up with her instead of you.

That said, the new kid, Sally?

She doesn’t really remember, nor care…

To be fair, she’d been latched onto you like a leech the whole time. It was obnoxious the number of times she was verbally and physically throwing herself at you.

Zećira could ignore it most of the time, given she had to focus on her own drills with the others, but she couldn’t miss the tone of Sadie’s voice every time she came within hearing distance of you both.

It was a sickly-sweet tone with heavy undertones, and it annoyed the Swedish woman to no end.

Regardless, even if it was annoying her, you looked like you’d been completely oblivious to the most obnoxiously obvious flirtations Sarah sent your way.

That’s what frustrated her the most, your ignorance of the situation at hand and the way you let the twenty-two-year-old cling to you like that.

Now that you’re in the bar, Zećira is watching as Summer leans uncomfortably close to you, hand grazing your arm as she animatedly asks you question after question about your life and what it’s like on the senior team.

You don't step away from it, not really, although, it seems, even you have your friendly limits.

The goalkeeper feels her chest start to heat up with the familiar low burn of jealousy.

A cough from across the table catches her attention.

“Zee, the staring isn’t subtle.”

There’s a raised brow on Niamh’s face as she glances back and forth between you and the goalkeeper with a small smirk.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Even if that’s the case, the poor newbie over there is definitely feeling your laser glare right about now.”

Zećira’s glare moves to the Canadian across from her.

“Good, I hope so.”

Both of them let out a small snort at the Swede, nudging her shin when she turns back to you, making her look away again.

“What?”

“For the love of god, just tell her, she’s definitely not into flirty pants over there, and you have the best chance out of literally anyone here.”

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about. You pair are crazy.”

The pair groaned and just shoved the goalkeeper away from the table and out of her seat.

“Go save the poor woman, at least. If you won’t acknowledge your blatantly obvious love for our Striker, the least you can do is pull McFlirt over there off her."

-

“Oh my god, you’re so right!”

Savannah’s voice was getting a little grating in your ears now.

Flinching away at the loudness of the laugh so close to your ear, you cover it up with a signal to the bartender to bring you another glass of Vodka Soda, given you weren’t driving now anyway and the trainers weren’t here to scold you for drinking midseason.

“So- “

A soft throat clearing from just behind your shoulder makes the newbie in front of you jump a little out of her focus on you.

The warmth radiating from Zećira with how close she’s standing to you makes you relax back into the goalkeeper but also lightly shiver with the proximity.

“Oh... hi. You’re Zekira, right?”

You look up slightly at the raven-haired woman just in time to see her eye twitch slightly at the pronunciation.

“It’s Zećira actually.”

“Of course, right.”

There’s a small, awkward silence before Zećira clears her throat again.

“So Selena-“

“It’s Savannah.”

“Right, I think Niamh and Jessie were looking to talk to you.”

The blonde lights up suddenly at the mention of the two, to which when she makes eye contact with them as they look towards the suddenly excited new girl, they glare back at her when she smirks at them.

Once the girl disappears to go find the Canadian and English friends, Zećira turns to you with a small smile that you gratefully reciprocate.

Leaning back into the taller woman, you offer her the seat now free in front of you next to the bar but she shakes her head, instead gently grabbing your hand, leading you towards the outdoor area of the bar, settling in by one of the heaters.

It’s not a particularly cold night, but it’s just chilly enough to have a reasonable excuse to tuck yourself under her arm and lean your head on her shoulder.

It was silent now, but not like before.

The quiet was a welcome one, and it was quite common between you.

Zećira was your favourite person for the same reason you were hers.

Not that either of you really knew that.

You were both quiet people. You enjoyed the company of the rarely brooding but often times peacefully listening goalkeeper.

If you’d needed to rant, she’s always been an open ear for you.

If you needed a hug, she’s right there to give the warmest, tightest, sweetest hug you’ve ever had. They’d send tingles down your spine, and her hands are always sure on your lower back as your arms wrap around her neck.

The smell of her shampoo leaves you feeling slightly dizzy when you’d bury your face there after long and tiring days.

Her hand would settle on your knee comfortingly when you curl up beside her while binging tv shows after every one of your breakups.

Her overall presence keeps you going day to day.

Despite that. You were only friends.

Good friends, but friends nonetheless.

Right?

“Hey, I have to pee, I’ll be right back.”

Zećira hums softly and lifts her arm to let you out of the booth again.

Making your way over to the bathroom, you do your business, and as you're washing your hands to touch up, the door creaks open behind you, and you lift your head to look at them.

It’s Savannah.

“Oh hey, I was looking for you, I was wondering if maybe we could, you know, hang out some time?”

“Like to practise and stuff?”

“Well, I mean more like, come to dinner with me.”

Oh.

Right as you’re about to answer with a soft no to let her down easy, the door opens behind her and Zećira walks in, looks slowly between the two of you before slipping into a stall herself.

There's a small awkward silence now as you shift uncomfortably under the stare of her.

“Look, as nice as you are, I’m not interested in dating right now. And you're far younger than me, I'm sorry but I'm just not interested.”

“At least give me a chance to- “

Zećira steps out of the stall at that exact moment, moving to the sinks.

“Look, kid, she said no, maybe take that as an answer instead of embarrassing yourself further, alright?”

She punctuates it with little flicks of water at the sink after washing her hands.

Savannah’s face turns bright red, and she mumbles a quiet apology and ducks out of the door swiftly.

You turn to the Swedish woman with a raised brow.

“What’s up with you, grumpy?”

She feigns confusion and looks at you funny, moving to dry her hands on some paper towel.

“What are you talking about?”

“You never get that snappy with anyone, even the persistent ones.”

Zećira steels her expression lightly but stays quiet.

“Zee…?”

It catches you off guard when she steps forward, hands grabbing your waist to walk you back into the wall.

The small “oof” you let out echoes in the small dimly lit bathroom, and your cheeks flush as her grip tightens on you.

“Zee… what are you- “

At that, she swiftly leans down to capture your lips with her own. A small gasp leaves your mouth but is quickly smothered, and one hand reaches up to grip the back of her neck while the other rests on her cheek.

The more your lips move together, the more antsy you get, and you nip at her lower lip slightly as she pulls back to take a breather.

Her lips are slightly swollen, and you can’t imagine yours aren’t the same.

With flushed cheeks, she dips back into you again, this time, though, her hands grip the underside of your thighs and lift you up onto the counter with a small squeak erupting from your lips.

“Zee, we’re gonna get caught -"

“So let them, even better if it’s that little-“

With a soft shake of your head, you pull her back in again to shut her up.

It’s a softer, slower kiss this time, one that she takes her time pulling away from.

With slow abated breaths, you move your other hand to cup the other side of her face.

“If you’re gonna kiss me like that in a bathroom, give a girl a warning first.”

Zećira blushes harder this time and almost pulls away out of fear of rejection, but you quickly tighten your legs around her waist, holding her to you.

“Something you wanna tell me, Zee?”

The small, curious, and teasing smile on your lips makes her stop.

Though, there must be something in your eyes at that point because she relaxes against you, hands moving back to grip your thighs again.

“Can I tell you later, because you and I both know what’s gonna come out of my mouth next and I really want to keep kissing you.”

A finger on her lips stops her from leaning down again and you raise a brow giggling softly.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Du betyder allt för mig.” (You mean everything to me)

Your heart races. You knew Swedish enough to understand what she just said, and it completely catches you off guard.

But you release a shaky breath and let your hand fall onto the back of her neck again.

“Inte vad jag förväntade mig....” (Not what I expected)

She stops for a second. You continue.

“But it’s what I needed to hear.”

Her breath hitches at that, and you tug her down again, her hands tightening their grasp, nails digging slightly into your skin, leaving you keening into her.

At the noise escaping from the back of your throat, she slips them up to ride under your shirt, tracing a small path into the skin beneath the fabric.

You make a half attempt to pull her closer yet, pressing yourself right to her, hips rocking into her softly.

She groans at the way your nails dig into her shoulders when she trails kisses down the side of your jawline, tracing a line straight down to the junction of your neck and shoulder.

Tilting your head to give her more access, your breathing becomes more ragged, and your eyes flutter shut as her teeth take the skin there and tug lightly, her lips soothing the ministrations behind them.

Shifting to give herself a little space, her fingers move to swiftly unbutton the fabric currently standing in her way and with a soft growl, she finally tugs it open, head dropping to press kisses to your collarbone, nipping occasionally.

“Fuck.”

You breathe out when Zećira’s fingers dip below the waistline of your slacks, half tugging at them.

“Off.”

The commanding tone is firm but a little breathless as she pulls back to look you dead in the eye.

Letting out a soft pleading whine, you obediently lift your hips to let her tug them down along with your underwear at the same time, leaving you bare to the cool air, to which you shiver slightly.

A slight brush of her fingertips on your clit is enough to have you whimpering into her mouth.

You’ve never been this sensitive to someone’s touch but there’s something about the taller woman in front of you now, teeth digging into your lower lip, fingers still teasing you, that has you losing your mind on a public bathroom counter.

“Please.”

It’s a soft, keening whine, but it makes her chuckle, and she hushes you, thumb coming up to tug at your lip before her other hand finally applies enough pressure to your clit to have you bucking up into her hand.

“So wet for me already, Princesse.”

There’s a small tone of surprise behind it, and you nod at her, guiding her hand down lower with small encouraging whispers of “Please baby. I need you.”

She traces small circles around your clit for a moment and slowly dips her index and middle finger down, working them into you from the awkward angle of the sink.

She uses her hand to muffle your moans before they become too loud and starts thrusting at a fast pace, fingers bending at the right spot, leaving you a moaning mess embarrassingly quickly, completely at her mercy as she fucks you.

Her wrist moves her thrusts into you a bit harder, and you have to fight not to moan any loader lest someone catch you like you’d been fearing this whole time.

When she ducks her head down to mouth at the skin of your collarbone again, you know you’re a goner. 

A whimpering, keening, moaning mess.

The fact she’s got you this close this fast has you a little concerned for your own stamina, but it’s wiped from your mind the moment her lips are on yours again.

Hearing you moaning like this for her only makes her double her efforts, fingers tapping your g-spot with renewed vigour, and it throws you close to the edge swiftly.

You can feel your legs start to tremble a little, and she can feel you tighten around her, her thrusts meeting a little more resistance now.

“That’s it, älskling.”

The soft praise only spurs you on and your hips lift to meet her thrusts and it takes but a few brushes of her thumb on your clit to send you over.

Thighs twitching, legs tightening around the goalkeepers hips as your back arches into her.

She’s muttering sweet nothings to you as you come down, soft muttered "you're so beautiful"'s and "Good girl"'s.

If you weren't already mid orgasm, that in itself would have sent you over.

“My sweet, beautiful girl.”

There’s a slight whine in your throat when her thumb moves against your clit a little, still sensitive from your orgasm just mere seconds ago.

“Zee.”

It’s a soft, breathy whine, and she smiles, removing her hand slowly and taking your lips with hers again.

“I love hearing my name on your lips, I need to hear it more, back to my place?”

You nod swiftly, letting her guide your underwear and pants back up, the haze of an orgasm still very much on your mind.

On shaky legs, you clean up a little, settling the sex-mussed hair on both of you and attempting, albeit failing, to cover up all of the marks left on your neck with her jacket which she settles around your shoulders after you shiver a little when you step out of the bathroom.

Thankfully, the bathroom is around a corner from where your teammates are tucked away in a set of booths so you both wave at them from a distance as you exit the bar, ignoring the looks you get from them.

Zećira guides you down the concrete sidewalk towards her car in the small parking lot beside the building.

-

Zećira can hardly focus on getting her keys in the lock with you nipping at her collarbone the way you are. That and your hands have slipped under the fabric of her button-up shirt to gently scratch at the skin of her abs.

“Älskling, please, need a second to get the door open.”

You feign innocence, a small pout on your lips, but they quirk up a little at her while she shakes her head lightly at the cheeky expression on your face.

Slipping your hands further up, she whines when you cup her through her bra, hands cold against her skin.

She curses the key in her hand when she finally gets the door unlocked, dragging you inside by the collar to slam you against it.

"Couldn't behave for one second to get us inside, could you?"

Chuckling, you tug her closer by the belt loops.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

She rolls her eyes.

"I'm sure you don't."

Following swiftly with that, her knee presses between your legs, hands fully unbottoning and removing your shirt now, tossing it to the side.

"Eager?"

The smug grin on your face has her a little flustered, but she raises a brow down at you.

"I've finally got you here to myself, I'm not wasting anymore time getting you in my bed."

You chuckle softly, hands grabbing hers to steady them before pulling off and throwing her jacket to the side, hands tugging at her button-up to slowly remove it, softly grazing the skin of her shoulders as you push it off.

"We have all the time in the world, Baby. I'm not going anywhere."

She softens, and her hands grasp yours, gently tugging you down the hall to her bedroom, walking half turned towards you, eyes locked on yours.

"I'm right here, Zee. I'm all yours."

The soft reassurance has the last of her nerves settling once again, making way for the sweet, charming Zećira you know and love.

The shakiness in her limbs disappears altogether, making it easier for her to pull you back into her, hands settling on your hips, and she kisses you.

You lean up into it, pushing back as she applies a little more force into it, letting it fall naturally heavier with every move, nip, and caress.

A warmth starts to settle back into your stomach, and you nudge her towards the bed, to which she flips you back onto the mattress, hovering over you.

It's in slow movements, met with kissing you all the way back until your head hits the pillows.

You're craving her warmth a little more, so you tug the swede down onto you rather forcefully, leaving little room for argument as her hand slips under your shirt to grip at your chest, kneading the soft flesh there with a small sigh.

A whine slips out from the back of your throat when her fingers roll your nipple between them, pinching and tugging at the skin gently.

The taller woman pushes herself up slightly, kneeling, and pulls you up with her.

Soft, tender hands move to the buttons of your shirt, move, and undo each one slowly until reaches the bottom one, to which her two fingers under your chin bring your gaze back up to meet hers.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart."

You just about melt under the slowly darkening gaze of the woman.

The single flick of her fingers to unclip your bra and throw it to meet the discarded shirt has your mind nearly turned to mush right there.

With a soft muttered, "So beautiful."

She's swift to kiss you and push you back into the pillow, resuming her previous actions.

The cool air in the room does little to sate the heat taking over your skin, everywhere she touches, feels like a small fire under her fingertips, leaving you keening into her touch.

One hand remains on your breast, the other tracing a minuscule path over your ribcage and to the edge of your pants, tugging at the fabric.

She doesn't have to ask this time, though, as you immediately lift your hips to allow her to pull them off.

Her kisses trail away from your lips, shifting down across your jawline, to your collarbone, occasionally leaving small nips on the way down.

Down to your chest, lips wrapping around your nipple, suckling and leaving you a whimpering mess.

The more your whines turn to soft pleas, the more she smirks against your skin when she lets the nipple go and continues a featherlight trail of kisses across your stomach.

"Baby, please."

You can feel the wave of hot air come from her as she chuckles against you.

"What's the matter, darling?"

"I need you."

The keening whine behind the words just have her amused as you buck up into her.

"Yeah? Tell me where. Where do you need me?"

The fact she’s trying to make you think like this, is criminal alone, and it makes you whimper when she extricates herself from your vicinity, a soft but stern tone behind her words.

"Tell me, Y/n. What do you need from me?"

"I need your mouth, fingers, anything. Please just touch me, baby."

A smug, mocking tone makes you whine.

"But I am touching you baby."

Attempting to grab her and pull her back into you, she chuckles and tuts at you, pulling away from your grasp.

"I need you inside me, on me, anything please."

It seems she's satisfied with that because she leans down once again.

Peeling off your underwear, she groans softly at the dampened fabric, head immediately moving to press kisses to the insides of your thighs, hands slipping under them and urging your legs over her shoulders, manoeuvring herself to be directly over your centre.

Hot puffs of air directly hitting your clit leaves you gripping the sheets tightly, breathing more than a little ragged.

"Look at me."

Your head lifts from where it had fallen back, eyes flitting to meet hers in the faintly lit room.

"Good girl."

With that, her mouth is on you swiftly, tongue taking in your taste with a breathy groan.

The warm, firm muscle makes you buck your hips up with a small jerk.

"Jesus, Zee."

Your hand shoots to her hair, gripping the raven locks tightly.

The grunt you're rewarded with has your legs shaking a little with the vibrations and it only makes her grip on your thighs tighten.

Her tongue laps at you, lips taking in your clit with a sharp suck before releasing and returning to thrust into your entrance.

Inevitably, when you let your head drop back against the pillow, a sharp pinch to the leg jolts you back to watch her again

"Keep watching, älskling, don't make me ask again."

The slightly cooler warmth of her breath contrasts against the startling heat of her mouth as it once again latches itself around your clit.

With the way she's devouring you, it feels like her tongue has found a home between your legs, the skillful swift flicks and swipes have your legs trembling beneath the strong grip of her hands over the skin of your thighs.

The moans she's drawing from you feel unrestricted, being released with no thought to them like you’d always done with everyone else.

She makes you feel safe here, in the dimly room of her home, secure beneath her sure touch, without need to restrain yourself.

You feel freer and safer than ever.

One hand releasing your leg brings you back to her, to the warmth of her taking you in with small, breathy groans.

It trails over your hip, gliding over your ribs, brushing the underside of your breast before sliding off to slip your hand into it, tangling your fingers together like they had been in the sheets only moments ago.

The build-up in your gut suddenly alerts you to the oncoming orgasm, the wave having completely snuck up on you.

"F-fuck. Zee, I'm gonna.."

You barely have time to register the small hum against you that's paired with the harsh suck that sends you kareening over.

Her hand squeezes yours, your legs wrap tighter around her shoulders and head, and her eyes follow the way your back arches up and your hips buck into her mouth, her other hand forcing your hips back into mattress.

She can feel her own arousal building just at the sight of you writhing beneath her, chest heaving with the efforts of her mouth on you.

The way her already dark brown eyes dilate at watching you cum on her tongue, the flood of your taste meeting her tastebuds as she slips her tongue inside you to clean up.

Her hand never leaves yours until you're needily fisting at her to pull her up to eye level once again, wasting no time kissing her.

The sweet, slightly tangy taste of yourself on her lips has you whining softly, and it takes little effort to push her onto her back, straddling her waist.

"Okay?"

You raise a brow at the soft pout on her lips.

"Who said I was done with you?"

Chuckling, you lean down to capture her lips in a brief, soft peck.

"No one, baby, it's my turn, now relax. I've been dying to taste you."

Clearly, your words have an effect on her, because you can feel the shiver run through her beneath you, and the way her fingers grip your hips tighter along with the small sigh she let's out when your lips trail down her exposed collarbone.

You're met with little resistance once your teeth dig into the soft pale skin of her chest, above the line of her bra, as you pull her up to sit up so you can reach behind to tug open the clasp.

Tossing it away, her hands find the back of your head, pulling you back down to kiss her again.

A smile crosses your lips against hers, and you press her back down into the mattress once again, hands holding you up either side of her head.

It takes but a small whine from her when you kiss down to her chest to have you nearly grinding down into her again.

Instead, you focus on the growing want to absolutely ruin the woman below you.

Teeth nipping small marks into her chest, your lips wrap around her nipple, tugging at the nub and releasing it with a small pop, relishing in the ragged gasps coming from above you.

Her fingers have fully tangled in your hair, pleading tugs every now and then, urging you on.

You only chuckle softly at her insistence.

"What's the matter, baby?"

Taking on the same mocking coo she held with you earlier, which she whines and almost rolls her eyes at, your hands still, laying flat over her stomach with your hips settled on top of her own.

"Älskling, baby, please..."

You gently smack away the hand that reaches for you with a smirk.

"Tell me what you want, baby."

The huff she lets out only widens your smile.

"I did not tease you this much."

"Answer the question, Zećira."

Ignoring her indignant whine, you slide a hand up her chest again, fingers twisting and moulding the soft flesh of her breast.

Hearing in that moment, the moment she gives in, the exhale.

A soft curse in swedish, followed by a whimper when you playfully grind your hips down and she's pleading.

"Älskling, god, please baby, fuck me."

"What was that, baby?"

It earns you a small, frustrated whine.

"Your fingers, fuck me with your fingers, your tongue baby please, anything, I need you."

A triumphant grin crosses your face as you lean down to reward the woman, lips meeting hers, hand slipping down to tug at the button on her jeans.

The way she eagerly lifts her hips up, her own hands encouraging yours as you tug down the fabric obstructing you, has you grinning up at the goalkeeper.

Not wanting to tease the woman any more than you had already, you tug down her underwear almost immediately after.

Frankly, you didn't feel like waiting any longer either, only torturing yourself more the longer you waited.

Sitting back on your haunches, just below her knees, reaching out a slow, gentle hand to trace a path down from her stomach to her hip.

To her inner thigh before finally settling, hovering over where she needs you.

Your forefinger and middlefinger apply a small amount of pressure, testing the waters as she watches with shallow rises and falls in her chest.

"Älskling.."

It would sound like a warning if it wasn't paired with a sharp gasp, eliciting when you glide your fingers further down to slip them inside her.

She's soaked through, and you have to hold back the soft groan as you feel her clench around you.

The feeling makes you shift downwards almost immediately, making slow, long strokes as you do so, with gentle curves of your fingers.

Hearing her beg and curse for you like this, you never want this to stop.

With that, your mouth lowers to take her, her hand in your hair now an encouraging force on your head as your tongue drags over her clit.

Her head falls back onto the pillow with what you can only describe as a small pleasured sigh of relief, and you giggle softly, letting your drag down, and back up again, lapping at the wetness accumulating around your hand.

Your other hand keeps her leg steady against the mattress, allowing you easier access as your thrusts speed up.

"Fu-"

She's never been an overtly loud person, so having her moan and curse for you like this, underneath your mouthing ministrations, only drives you even more crazy.

"Så vacker." (So beautiful).

It's a soft mutter against the skin of her inner thigh, paired with small kisses that you trail up to her hip again, meanwhile keeping pace, fingers curling inside her.

With the way her hips buck up into your face, you get the inkling that you speaking swedish to her has her losing her mind above you.

Or it could be the fact you're buried between her legs eating her like she's your last meal.

You don't mind either way.

Getting to hear her like this fuels you alone.

It feels like no time at all passes before her moans shift, and she's crenching a little harder around your fingers while her own tightens in your hair.

"Fuck, Y/n, I-."

"I know, baby. Go ahead, cum for me."

Curling your fingers just right in time with her thrusts, her moans halt as she seizes up, legs trembling around your head.

She's absolutely beautiful when she cums, you've decided.

Her hands slowly release their grip on your tresses and the sheets below the both of you, breathing slower and deeper as she comes down.

Zećira's eyes meet yours once again, noting the shining smug but also awed glint in them.

In that moment, she's decided she's going to drag as many orgasms out of you as she can tonight, unable to be patient enough to wait to see the look on your face once again as your legs shake around her head.

"Get up here."

There's no hesitation. You're up straddling her waist once again as she's sitting up to grip your neck to pull you down to her level.

Her hands settle on your hips once again, sliding back around to cusp your ass, giving the cheeks a quick squeeze, and you giggle softly at the blissed out look in her eyes.

She's absolutely gorgeous with swollen lips, purple marks marring her collarbone, and hair mussed from your hands being buried in them earlier.

They quickly return to that position, fingers carding through the dark locks, thumbs coming to caress her face as you lean down again to kiss her, slower and softer this time.

Loving.

Caring.

Thankful.

Both of you are more than feeling all of that.

There's a shining, loving look in her eyes as she looks up at you, and you feel it flow through your chest in a wave of warmth that makes your skin tingle.

"Hey Zee?"

She hums softly.

"Du betyder allt för mig också." (You mean everything to me, too.)

She grins up at you and the sound of your giggle can be heard as she flips the both of you over onto your back with her on top, lips taking yours in a very much smile filled kiss.

"Feelin' okay?"

"Amazing, you?"

You've never felt safer than here, in her arms.

-

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Elementary, Chapter Two

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x teacher!reader

chapter rating: M (no explicit smut but my blog is always 18+ ONLY, just one steamy makeout but the smut show begins next chapter so strap in 😎 as always, i cannot force myself to reread my own writing so this isn’t proofread)

word count: 4.9k

series masterlist | joel masterlist | joel playlist

It was Saturday afternoon, your book club meeting nearly wrapped for the day. You were delighted to see Sarah’s face, half-expecting both her and her father to forget about the meeting, but she was one of the first ones here.

Joel greeted you with a shy wave and a smile as he walked her into the small room in the corner of the library, his grey t-shirt and jeans fitting him far too well.

“Mornin’,” he greeted, both of your eyes trailing away to watch Sarah make a bee-line for the snack table. “That’s my fault, I forgot to make a grocery run.”

“That’s what they’re there for,” you waved off his worry and fixed your eyes on his again.

“I, uh, tried to keep up,” he held up his copy of Sense and Sensibility, surprising you with how far into the book his bookmark rested, not quite where the rest of you were but not too far off. “I don’t know about that Willoughby guy…somethin’ seems off.”

“Oh, yeah?” you chuckled, shifting your weight onto one hip and crossing your arms over your chest as you eagerly waited his assessment. Joel cracked a charming half smirk and nodded confidently.

“Yeah. No man is that perfect.” You snorted a laugh and eagerly agreed. “So I got it, then? He’s a bad guy?”

“No comment,” you replied with an untamable grin, something about his presence filling you with a girlish giddiness you hadn’t felt in years.

“Sarah!” Sarah’s new friend, Jessie, squealed when she entered the classroom and spotted her, causing both you and Joel to look over with proud smiles.

“This was a good idea,” Joel turned back to you. “Hadn’t realized how sheltered she was. It’s nice to see her have a friend.”

“We all deserve friends,” you noted.

“You know, if you ever need a friend…I’m right here,” he offered with a shrug, busying his eyes by looking down at the book he was holding.

“Would Sarah be okay with her dad and teacher being friends?” you asked, Sarah’s well-being your ultimate responsibility and priority over whatever you happened to be feeling for her father.

“Yeah, we, uh, talked about it…I may have made a comment about how pretty you are,” he chuckled in embarrassment and rubbed the back of his neck. “And she’s been teasin’ me about it since.”

“Pretty, huh?” you smirked and relished in the blush you brought to his face, his eyes rolling as a husky chuckle slipped from his lips. “Well, Joel, if I ever need a friend, how can I go about getting in touch with you?”

“Right,” he nodded, frantically reaching into his pocket to pull out his flip phone, your lip caught between your teeth as you watched him struggle to find his phone number—of course he didn’t know it by heart. “Alright, you ready?”

You clicked your pen and pulled out your post-it note/bookmark, jotting down his number as he read it out to you.

“Are we gonna start or what?” Harriet snapped from her wheelchair, making both you and Joel laugh.

“I’ll be back to pick Sarah up at eleven,” he tapped his book with yours before walking out of the room, only stopping to place a kiss on his daughter’s forehead before disappearing, leaving your heart longing for more.

Taking a deep, necessary breath, you turned to the group and smiled. “Alright, how far did everybody get this week?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at your phone so goddamn much since you got the damn thing,” Tommy teased his older brother as they walked around their favorite H-E-B supermarket, Joel determined to surprise Sarah with a fully stocked fridge and pantry for once.

“Yeah,” Joel mumbled as he swore he felt a buzz in his pocket, tugging his flip phone out for the twentieth time since stepping inside the store, hoping to see a message or an incoming call from you.

“That the plummer for the project on 15th Street?” Tommy asked as he loaded a case of Gatorade into the bottom of the cart.

“No, it’s, uh—“ Joel was nervous, having gone so long without having a romantic life that he started to feel like a teenager again, too embarrassed by the weight of his crush to tell anybody. “Sarah’s at her book club so I’m just makin’ sure I don’t miss her call if she needs me to pick her up early.”

“And her ‘pretty’ teacher ain’t got nothin’ to do with that?” Tommy teased with a grin, amused by the look of betrayal and embarrassment on his older brother’s face.

“Sarah told ya, huh?”

“Yep,” Tommy laughed and took over pushing the cart. “You ask her out yet?”

“Not yet,” Joel sighed, the idea of going on a first date at his stage in life seeming ridiculous. What would they even do? Go to a movie? Go out to dinner? It all seemed too…cliche. “What do people even do for dates anymore?”

“Take her to Lady Bird Lake or a museum or somethin’. She’s a teacher, she’ll be into all that,” Tommy suggested. Joel nodded at the advice, making a mental note of it before being interrupted by the first actual ring of his phone all morning.

“Hello?” Joel answered the unsaved number with a hopeful heart.

“Joel?” your voice responded, bringing a smile to his face.

“Hey,” he greeted, sounding more like himself. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chirped, but he could tell there was something you were holding back.

“Sarah’s okay, right?”

“Yes! Sarah’s alright, she’s waiting here with me—“Joel heard his daughter greet him in the background. “The meeting ended a bit early, and I was trying to start my car, but it looks like I have a dead battery. Is there anyway I could get a jumpstart?”

“Oh—yeah,” he mouthed to Tommy that they needed to go checkout, Tommy pushing the cart towards the registers without needing any further instruction. “We’re just checkin’ out at H-E-B, but I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

“Sounds good, thank you,” you breathed a sigh of relief.

“No need to thank me. It’s what friends are for,” he hoped his attempt at playfulness didn’t fall flat, and judging by your chuckle, it hadn’t.

“That and lots of other things.” Joel’s heart sped up as he contemplated the other things. “See ya in a bit.”

“So,” Sarah started as she sat beside you in your well-used Ford Focus, the two of you reading as you waited for Joel to arrive. “You married?”

You laughed at her bluntness, looking over at her only to see her deadpanning. “No, I’m not married. Not anything.”

“Why not?” You laughed again, this time incredulously.

“I’ve been wondering that myself.” She didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, making you shrug and giggle again as you tossed your hands up. “I don’t know, maybe it’s the men I go after.”

“Like my dad?” You blushed and turned back to your book, finally pulling a laugh from the girl much wider than her years. “I think it would be cool if you two started to go out.”

“What makes you think we want to go out?” you challenged with a smirk, trying and failing to erase it from your face.

“I haven’t seen my dad try this hard since…well, ever,” she chuckled. “And both of you always have this stupid smile on your face after you see eachother. I’d say that’s a pretty big tell.”

“You’re too observant for your own good,” you noted as you felt your cheeks creep with heat, embarrassed that she’d caught you.

A few quick honks cut off the conversation, both of you stepping out of the hot car to greet Joel as he and another man pulled up in front of where you were parked. Joel climbed out of the passenger seat with a smile, striding over to both of you with two water bottles in hand, giving you each one.

“Drink up, it’s hot as hell today,” he commanded and both of you obeyed.

“Hey,” his companion stepped out of the drivers side and joined the three of you, giving you a nod. “I’m Tommy, Sarah’s uncle.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you,” you held your hand out for him to shake and he grinned mischievously.

“Likewise.” Your cheeks heated again despite the cold water bottle cooling you down.

“Mind if I pop the hood?” Joel pointed at your car, your head eagerly nodding in response. You watched him closely as he walked over to the drivers side, bending down to find the hood release. His shirt stretched over the broadness of his back, a line of sweat darkening the gray fabric down his spine. With a sudden thirst, you took a healthy chug of your water, hoping it would soothe the fire burning inside of you.

“Thank you guys,” you started as you turned to Tommy, needing to distract yourself from Joel.

“It’s no problem,” Tommy assured, his arm draped around Sarah’s shoulder. “How was, uh, book club?”

“Oh!” Sarah chimed, earning a furrowed brow look from her father as he walked over to the bed of the truck to grab some jumper cables. “Can I go over to Jessie’s house tonight? She’s having a sleepover—“

“I don’t know,” Joel exhaled as he returned. “I need to talk to her parents first.”

“I have their number,” you offered, pulling your phone out of your purse. “If you want it.”

“Sure,” he gave you a tired smile and trailed his eyes over your form properly for the first time since he arrived. Your hair that was once freely falling had now been put up, the sweat on the back of your neck causing your hair to stick to your skin in a way that bugged you. Your makeup was probably well into oily territory, your mascara smudged the last time you checked it in the car’s rearview mirror. The only thing half-presentable about you was the sundress you were wearing, it’s floral, cotton fabric flowing in the warm April breeze. “Uh,” he caught himself staring and quickly turned his gaze back to his daughter as he fished out his cellphone. “Here—you can type it in.”

After giving Sarah the phone number, she and Tommy retired back to the cool a/c in his truck, leaving you and Joel alone. An irresponsible thing for the two of you to be.

“Care to show me how it’s done,” you asked, unable to stop yourself from wanting more from him—more attention, more of his voice, more…everything. Being around him made you feel like you were burning alive, and yet strangely enough, the only time relief came to you was when you got closer to him.

“No one ever taught you how to jumpstart a car?” he teased with a smile, glancing over at you as he clamped the metal prongs onto the negative and positive sides.

“Not really,” you chuckled, pointing at the opposite colors. “So black goes on negative and red goes on positive?”

“Yep,” he nodded before pointing at the inside of the car. “Go on and try to start it up.”

“Just start it?” you asked, worried about messing up.

“Yep, like you normally do,” he encouraged you with a smile, watching you as you sat down in the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. Both of you gasped at the sight and sound of your battery sparking and then smoking. “Shit.” He walked over to the now ruined battery and investigated as you came out to join him. “Wasn’t your fault, my cords must be fucked or somethin’. I’m sorry—just ruined your battery.” He sighed and gave you an apologetic look, but you were quick to brush it off.

“Don’t worry about it,” you placed your hand on his arm and watched as his head turned to look at the contact before locking his eyes with yours. You fought the urge to worship his biceps like your celibate and cavewoman-like hormones were urging you to and pulled your hand away. “I’ll just call a tow truck and have them tow me to an auto-shop.”

“They’ll take you for all you got.” He shook his head and gestured back at the truck. “We can take ya to go get a new battery for almost free.”

“Almost?” you chuckled, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, the only payment I ask for is maybe…a date?” He gave you a bashful but hopeful smile as he tucked his hands in his front pockets. “Maybe tonight?”

You stared at him with a widening grin, pleasantly surprised by his proposition. You hadn’t thought he’d make the first move, at least not this soon. Throwing caution to the wind, you nodded, your stomach fluttering as you watched him sigh in relief.

“Alright, well, let’s work on gettin’ you a new battery and go from there.” Joel waited for you as you locked your car up and joined him again, following him over to the backseat of his truck. He opened the door for you, giving you that warm smile that was beginning to feel like a drug as you climbed in beside Sarah.

Joel remained outside as he unhooked the cables from their working battery to your dead one, shutting the hood of the truck with a firm slam. He ungracefully hopped into the passenger seat, looking over at his brother.

“Take us down to the Autozone,” he ordered, Tommy glancing back at you with a raised brow and smile as he waited for his brother to use his manners. Joel sighed, “Please.”

“That’s better.”

It took under an hour to go get your new battery, bring it back to your car, and have Joel install it. As he bid you goodbye, he let you know he’d give you a call once he figures out a time for your date tonight, and you couldn’t help but beam with excitement.

The entire rest of the afternoon was spent going through your closet, taking the longest shower of your life, and fussing with your hair, wanting to be ready if Joel chose to be last minute with your plans—which normally would thoroughly turn you off, but you were weak when it came to Joel.

Thankfully, Joel called at three, asking if you’d like to join him for a walk at Lady Bird Lake. You eagerly accepted the offer, mildly surprised by the unconventional choice in date but not disappointed with it.

As you sat in the living room, you heard a car approach your house and moved to peek through your window, the same dark pick-up truck from earlier rolling into your driveway. You grinned as you watched him hop out of the drivers seat, dressed in a crisp white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He looked so masculine and broad, but there was something in the warmth of his smile, the deepness of his eyes, that showed he was soft, too.

Quickly heading to your front door, you opened it before he could knock, his look of surprise when you swung the door open turning into a smile as he took you in—a sage green wrap dress that fell between your ankles and knees, your makeup soft and complimentary, your smile knee-weakening.

“You look so pretty,” he complimented softly, as though you weren’t meant to hear it. “Uh, got these for you.”

Joel handed you a bouquet of yellow daisies and you gave him a touched frown, kissing your teeth as you pressed the petals to your nose.

“This is very sweet,” you gave him a smitten grin and gestured back into your house. “Let me just go put these in some water. You’re welcome to come in.”

“Alright,” he followed you into your house and down the hall to your kitchen, his eyes scanning the scene as though your home would reveal some hidden secret about you. “This is a nice place.”

“Thanks,” you replied as you filled a vase with water at the sink. “I found it for a really good price last summer, and now the owner’s gonna sell it to me.”

“Take it you like Austin then. You from around here?” He asked, leaning his hip against the counter.

“Nope,” you continued to tell him where you were from. “But I do love it here. Besides, I’m getting older. Seems like a good investment.”

“Old,” he repeated with a smirk. “You ain’t nowhere near old. Me on the other hand—“

“You’re what, mid-thirties?”

“33,” he corrected. “But my body is pushin’ seventy.”

“You haven’t heard the way my bones crack when I get up every morning,” you joked, earning a laugh.

“We’ll just have to be gentle with each other, then,” Joel quipped, not taking much time to think before he spoke. He internally cringed at the way you looked away and chuckled awkwardly, scolding himself for his stupid joke.

“Hopefully not too gently.” You shot him a wink and every worry of his faded into oblivion. “Alright, then, shall we?”

“Yeah,” Joel swallowed his desire and walked you out to the truck, helping you into your side before seating himself. “You ever been to the lake?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “Is it pretty out there?”

“It’s pretty, but you’re gonna give it a run for it’s money in that dress,” he flirted, shooting you a glance and a peek at the smile he was wearing proudly. Your cheeks turned hot at his compliment and you rolled your eyes, grinning like a lovesick teenager.

“You’re a flirt,” you pointed out.

“Me?” He laughed. “I haven’t flirted in…shit, I don’t know how long it’s been.”

“Well, you’re a natural, then,” you nudged his arm with your elbow and felt dizzy by the sparks shooting through your nerves by the simple contact.

“Sarah gave me a run down of things I should and shouldn’t do tonight,” he filled you in.

“Oh yeah? What are the do’s?” you implored with an amused smile, watching his profile as he drove.

“Pay, open doors, and ask questions,” he replied.

“And dont’s?” Joel chuckled and shook his head.

“She said I’m not supposed to kiss you until the second date.” You scoffed and waved that thought away. “You disagree?”

“Strongly,” you answered him with a laugh, Joel laughing along with you.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind, then.” He shot you a wink and you felt like your heart was being shocked back to life. “I haven’t been on a date in so long. You gotta let me know if I’m fuckin’ this up.”

“You’re doing just fine, trust me,” you assured. “I can’t tell you the amount of shitty dates I’ve gone on, so the bar isn’t very high for you tonight.”

“Well, that’s sad,” he chuckled and shot you a lingering look as he stopped at a red light. “Hopefully I can break this streak of shitty dates.”

“I think you’ve already done it,” you laughed. “I mean, I can’t think of a first date that sacrificed hours of his life to replace my car battery on a Saturday afternoon.”

“You’re right, I’m setting the bar high,” he chuckled and shrugged. “Gonna have to change your oil next time just to keep up my reputation, then for the third date maybe rotate your tires—“

“Are these euphemisms?” you asked with mischief in your smile, not knowing the way you made his heart speed up with it.

“You make me nervous,” he admitted with a smile, his cheeks flushed pink. When he turned to look at you, he saw a bitten smirk, his head shaking. “That amuse you?”

“A little,” you nodded.

“Callin’ me a flirt,” he shook his head in mock scolding. “Look at you.”

After your leisurely walk in the park—the green of the grass and array of colors from the flowers and butterflies swarming in the air just as beautiful as Joel attempted to describe it on the way over—you and Joel found yourselves outside of an ice cream shop, sharing a chocolate and strawberry sundae.

“How are you not terrified every day? I only have Sarah to look out for and I can hardly manage, I can’t imagine a class full of ‘em,” Joel spoke, watching you as you spooned the last bit of the ice cream into your mouth.

“It’s scary at first, but then you develop this sort of bond with them—it just happens naturally, and it makes you feel responsible for them. You know? It’s just like…I feel a responsibility to show them some peace and understanding, because who knows what they have going on at home. I show up for them because I might be the only person that’s doing that, you know?” You shrugged, trying not to read into the way he was looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, his posture relaxed as he sat back in the metal patio chair. “You gotta stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” He chuckled, amused by your fluster.

“Like that.” You gestured at his head. “You know exactly what you’re doing, giving me those pretty brown eyes—“

Joel’s laugh cut you off, his head shaking. “I’m just listening to you talk, I have no control over my pretty brown eyes.”

“Mmhm,” you rolled your eyes and chuckled. “Whatever you say.”

“I, uh—Sarah’s away tonight. If you wanted to come over—“ Joel watched as you lifted an eyebrow. “Not for that—well, I mean—but I just meant to continue talking. We have a pool—“

“Why didn’t you start with that?” You stood upright and snapped your fingers at him, earning a grin. “Chop, chop, Mr. Miller.”

Joel made a pit stop at your place so that you could change into a swimsuit, throwing your dress back on over it before hurrying back out to the truck. Once inside his house, you found yourself studying the scene much like he had earlier at yours. It felt almost unreal to be in his space, the intimacy of walking the same halls he walked every morning and night turning you drunk.

“Pools out back, I’m gonna grab us some beers.” You nodded at him as he broke off towards the kitchen while you kept forward towards the sliding glass door to his patio.

Pulling the door open, you were surprised to see a rather nice little backyard set up. He draped yellow string lantern lights in zig zags from fence to fence, illuminating the pool and patio table.

“Here you go,” Joel appeared from behind you, handing you a beer before walking over to the table and taking a seat. You joined him, giving him an expectant but playful smirk as you entered a staring match. “What’s got you smilin’ like that?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, turning your grin towards the pool. “I’m just having a good time.”

Joel’s chest swole with pride at your confession.

“You wanna get in? It’s heated.” You gave him an impressed up and down, making him chuckle.

“Fancy,” you teased as you stood up, avoiding his eyes as your hands found the knot holding your wrap dress together. Before you could move to untie the knot, Joel’s hands rested over yours, his body now standing tall in front of you. Your eyes shot up to meet his and your breath faltered, his lips just a few inches away.

“May I?” Joel asked for permission as he replaced your fingers on the knot with his own. You gave him a quick nod, your lips parting as you waited with bated breath for him to undress you. Joel slipped the knot undone, the dress falling open. His eyes traveled from your face down the front of your body as he slid the dress off your shoulders, leaving you in just your swimsuit. His hands were quick to touch your skin, a soft gasp spilling from your lips at the fire his skin on yours caused. “You’re too beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful,” you praised, lifting your hand to cup his bearded cheek. Joel’s lips curled up at the sound of your compliment, his hands giving your waist a squeeze. “Remember that rule we talked about breaking earlier?”

“Uh-huh,” Joel nodded, leaning in to fill the gap between your lips until he was crashing into you, your fingers threading into his hair as you accepted the attack. Joel moaned as you tugged on his hair, walking you back against the table and hoisting you onto the metal. “You taste so sweet, baby.”

“I want you,” you whined, earning a growl of desperation as he licked and sucked his way down to your neck, fighting the urge to leave his mark on you.

“Hey, neighbor?” Joel’s older neighbor called from over the fence, interrupted their heated makeout. He sighed and rested his forehead on your shoulder as he tried to gather his composure enough to form a response.

“Yep?” Joel called back.

“Your girl’s locked out, just came knockin’ on our door.” Joel’s brows furrowed and he immediately straightened up, his eyes apologetic as he handed you your dress.

“Thanks,” he called back before placing a kiss on your cheek. “Sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay,” you assured as you tied your dress, the throbbing between your thighs persistent but the sound of him calling you baby was a more-than sufficient distraction, filling your stomach with butterflies.

You sat back down at the table and waited until Joel came back out, your fingers drawing hearts on the dust covering the table. When you caught yourself, you scoffed, disgusted by the cutesy feelings filling you to the brim, and wiped the table with your palm. Walking over to the edge of the pool, you rinsed the dust off and listened as the glass door slid open.

“Hey,” Sarah greeted, her voice nearly making you fall into the water as you weren’t expecting it. “How was the date?”

You stood up and chuckled, ignoring her question by changing the subject. “How was it at Jessie’s?”

“It was good, just didn’t want to spend the night,” she informed as she sat on one of the patio chairs, swinging her feet.

“Where’s your dad?” You weren’t sure what to say to her and desperately wanted Joel to come out to help carry the burden of this awkward tension.

“Using the bathro—“

“Nope,” he interrupted as he stepped outside, mouthing an apology to you as he walked over to her and kissed her head. “Can you go inside for a second?”

“Sure thing,” Sarah gave you a knowing smile as she left the two of you alone, closing the glass door behind her.

“Sorry,” he stepped to you, placing his hands on either side of you face. “Don’t think we’re gonna get to continue that tonight.”

“It’s alright,” you rubbed his chest.

“When can I see you again?” he asked, eyes full of reverence as he looked at you.

“Whenever,” you shrugged, pinching his chin. “I’m free after five every night.”

“I’ll try to talk Tommy into babysitting on Friday.” You grinned at his suggestion and nodded your head. “Lemme grab Sarah and we’ll drive you home.”

“Wait—“ You stopped him before he could get too far, tugging him down for a deep kiss, his arms wrapping around you and squeezing you so tight that you hoped it would last all week until you saw him next, but the minute he let go of you, you already missed him. “One more kiss.”

“One more,” he repeated as he kissed you again, slow, deep, and lingering, the two of you procrastinating. Finally, you gathered the will to pull away, chuckling at your breathlessness. “Alright, if we don’t stop now, I’m just gonna keep on torturin’ myself.”

“Not into that?” you quipped seductively, tilting your head at him as you tucked your hands into the back pockets of his jeans to pull him closer. Joel chuckled and shook his head at you as though you were testing every ounce of his strength.

“I’m gonna have my hands full with you, aren’t I?” he husked, leaning back in to place a feather-light kiss to your lips as you responded with a grin.

“Your hands are already pretty full, wouldn’t you say?” Joel laughed against you and gave your ass a squeeze, his palms having already been firmly planted there.

“Oh, I like you,” Joel hummed, pecking your lips once more before pulling away. “Here,” Joel handed you his keys before pinching your chin. “Start the truck up and I’ll go get Sarah.”

“Sure thing,” you beamed as you watched him start towards the house, stopping him once more with your voice. “Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“I like you too.” You and Joel stood there lovestruck, a chuckle slipping from his lips as he struggled to find the strength to take you back home, not ready for the night to be over. But knowing that the best things come to those who wait, Joel took a breath of patience and smiled.

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

[brodieland]

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 10 Things I hate about you ´ˎ˗

Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader Synopsis: Where the plan of 'taming the shrew' commenced. Leo and Charles go around finding you a perfect match for Charles to snoop in on Silena!!! Warning(s): just swearing Word Count: 1170 A/N: readers only mentioned in the beginning, just a quick roll over from how the plan started. and silena and Charles should've lived idgaf. anyways idk how to feel about this one but fuck it we ball???

╰➤ MASTERLIST pt1

An abrasive feminist who does nothing but hate on men, that's what you were known for. Silena, a beautiful and kind girl who was adored through out school, that's what she was known for.

No one would've guess you two were sisters.

As you walked out of class, music ripping through your headphones, you found your sister out by the parking lot talking with a guy. Luke Castellan to be exact. You couldn't help but roll your eyes as you approached her.

"Yo Silena, time to head home," you crossed your arms as she turned. She knew of your opinion on the single brain-celled men of the town, but she seemed to think the opposite.

"Um, you can go home without me. I have-" she looked back at Luke, flashing a quick smile-, "a ride already."

You rolled your eyes once more, fake gagging as you headed down to your red car. "Whatever."

As you walked off, Charles Beckendorf couldn't keep his eyes off Silena. "She's beautiful."

"Not a chance," Leo said from behind him. "Her dad has a strict rule with no dating. Don't even bother."

"No I need to try. I know I have this."

"Yeah okay, I mean unless you know French your not getting anywhere near her."

"Im a fast learner," Leo couldn't help but laugh at the response.

﹒º. ౨ৎ

As you sat in your car, making your way toward the exit of the parking lot, you saw the most infuriating sight possible. It was your sister riding in that douches convertible. 'Oh what dad would say,' you laughed to yourself.

When you got home, you were sitting in your living room reading a book when your dad walked in with the mail. He saw one with your name on it as your sister walked in late.

"Sarah Lawrence? That's across the country, what happened to staying local?"

"Dad, that's what you decided, this is my dream," your dad turned around, noticing your sisters presence. "Would a certain someone like to announce who drove them home?"

You had a smug smile on your face, though Silena didn't find this so amusing. "Excuse me, what is your sister talking about?"

"Nothing," Silena exclaimed. Your dad gave her the look, the look saying I know you're lying so don't try it. "Luke drove me home."

She groaned and stomped around as your dad continued to drill into your brains how he refused to let you both date till college, absolutely wanting to avoid teen pregnancy.

"The boys here are massive incels who lack the knowledge of a shower, I like being single," you mused.

"God what planet are you even from?"

"Enough, both of you. Sit," your father instructed. "I know you hate the rule so fine, I'll change it. You can date."

Silena started squealing until your dad pointed at you. "When she does."

You snorted as Silena started yelling, "Oh my god, have you met her? She's probably gonna die alone!!"

"Then you'll never date," your dad smiled as he walked off toward his room.

"Can't you just take some tooth-gapped loser on a date so I can go out??"

"Nope," you sang out, popping the p as you walked off toward your room.

﹒º. ౨ৎ

Silena ran into the library where she and Charles met up for their French lesson. "Oh hey, um, Silena."

"Yeah hi. Any chance we can make this quick?"

"Uh yeah, we can just start with some pronunciations, or we can just get some French food and call it a day," Charles chucked, Silena stared narrowed eyed.

"Are you asking me out," Charles started stammering, "It's not like I could even go anyways."

"I thought maybe if you called it French tutoring then-"

"At least not til my sister finds a date, so yeah. Never. Going. Out," she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"I'm sure it can't be that hard to find her a date."

Silena laughed, "Yeah right. Have you met her? She's impossible."

"I mean there's someone there for everyone, can't be impossible to find her one."

"Are you saying you would?"

"Would what? Find her a date," Silena shook her head aggressively. "I mean, if it means your let out of your prison... I'll do it.. for you."

As she squealed, Charles sat back wondering what the fuck he just agreed to do.

"Dude you're fucked," Leo said as he drank from his juice box. They were sitting in biology together as Charles was starting to freak out. "Why would you promise the impossible??"

"You don't understand. Silena is everything I've ever dreamed of."

"You spoken to her twice."

"Whats your point?"

"My point is we've asked nearly every guy in school, and they all wanna steer clear. You're cooked," Leo went on but Charles wasn't listening. Behind Leo, was a rugged raven-haired boy ripping the frog they were directing in half like it was a rotisserie chicken. He was laughing with his friends, two burly dudes. One looking like the perfect American boy, and the other with a cute baby face.

"I've found our guy," Charles pointed toward him. Leo just raised his brows.

"Dude, that kid literally went missing for like 8 months. Are you sure?"

"Whats his name?"

"Percy Jackson."

"I'm sure. I'm telling you. Got any ideas to convince him?"

"Your not gonna like where I'm going with this."

Leo wouldn't say the plan, so Charles knew it was ridiculous, but it's not like he had another plan. In the cafeteria, Charles watched from a distance as Luke Castellan drew a dick on Leo's face. When he came back, dick still on his face, he said the plans in motion.

"Okay, now will you please explain," Charles asked.

"We're gonna double agent. I convinced Luke to pay Percy into taking your crazy sister-in-law out on dates. While he's busy coughing up payments, you make your move."

"Lets just hope this doesn't backfire."

﹒º. ౨ৎ

The next day Leo made his way over toward Percy and his two other friends. "Hey guys!"

Leo greeted the three as 'baby face' patted his shoulder. "You guys know each other?"

"You know, I'm the one who got my boy here Frank with his girlfriend Hazel," Leo gloated.

"So you are a matchmaker?"

"A matchmaker, not a miracle worker," Leo rolled his eyes.

"Whats up bro?"

"I assumed Luke spoke to you," Percy nodded, clearly confused. "Perfect, we have an idea for you."

"Go on."

"You see my boy here," Leo pointed to Charles. "He'd be a much better option for the 'amazing' Silena. So we need you to make sure Luke can't get his hands on her."

"Dude, I'm getting paid one way or the other, no offense but I can only do so much."

"I'm telling you, stop stressing," the blonde one said. Leo whispered in Charles ear, saying 'thats Jason by the way.'

"Yeah, if you like her, then make it happen," Percy said as he walked off.

"God this is stressful," Charles groaned.

[macfrog]

lend me some sugar cowboy like me chapter eight

look. i had an idea, i couldn't rest until i wrote it. enJOY part 8 of cowboy like me - check out my masterlist here!!! ALSO the lovely @wildcat116 created a playlist w some of my fave dbf-inspired songs which you can give a listen right heeerreee love u all sm hope u like this gargantuan chapter

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel throws a homecoming garden party for sarah – and decides to make it one to remember

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) i honestly don't even know where to start with this one UHH age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, slightly jealous! slightly possessive!joel n also jealous!reader, sexting, mutual masturbation, phone sex, teasing, very semi-public ✨ activities ✨ involving a beer bottle

word count: 10.1k (lmfao)

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“Well…” he takes a drink from his bottle, and then studies it in his hand. “I thought you could sweeten my beer for me.” Your eyebrows raise on their own, your body on autopilot. “S-sweeten…your…b…” Joel nods. His eyes track over to the rest of the party, and then back to you. “Nobody’s watchin’, darlin’. It’s just you ‘n me. Go on. Do it for me.”

“No, no, no, hey, baby – don’t change the subject. You didn’t answer my question,” Joel says, one hand on the steering wheel, the other waving around like a maniac’s in midair. “What – is – a garden party?”

Your dad is chortling in the passenger seat.

“If you’d stop interruptin’ me!” you yell from the back. You’re leant forward, head and shoulders between the two of them. “It’s, like, well…drinks, and food, sat out on the patio in the nice weather–”

“Sounds like a barbecue to me!” Joel roars, much to your dad’s delight.

He claps his hands together once and snorts with laughter until he’s out of breath. “That Sarah of yours has you wrapped around her little finger, Joel.”

“She says, ‘I’m too old for a barbecue’. I said, ‘Too old for meat on a grill?’ How do you get to be too old to eat steak cooked on a grill?”

You roll your eyes with a sigh, slumping back in your seat and looking out the window at the buildings sailing by. You’re on your way to Costco to pick up supplies for this barb– garden party Sarah’s requested from Joel. He’s not too impressed by the thought of it.

Your dad’s talking about some client of his who threw his daughter a quinceañera on a yacht off the coast of Florida, for some reason you don’t care to listen to. Joel doesn’t, either. You see his eyes watching you from the rear-view mirror, clocking your expression.

When you turn to fully look back, his eyebrows raise, a question: You okay?

You raise yours back. Whatever.

He breathes a laugh, then plays it off to look like he’s laughing at your dad’s story. The truck pulls in to the parking lot.

By all accounts, your dad shouldn’t trust you and Joel alone together half as much as he does. But when the three of you get out of the car – Joel opens your door for you – he takes off to grab a shopping cart.

You and Joel take the opportunity to meander slowly toward the store. You haven’t had much time as of late to hang out, get some much-needed attention from him, jump each other’s bones. Sarah’s return means one more person to run lies around, one more obstacle stopping you from having precious free time with each other.

More than all of that, you just miss him. Miss the way he talks to you when no one else can hear, the way he reads your mind and gets it right – annoyingly – every damn time.

He loosens his elbow, offering you it, and you snake your arm through it.

“Garden party,” he scoffs. “I sure am glad I have you to keep me right.”

“We’ll make it nice for her,” you reply. “She liked the banner and balloons, right?”

He laughs. “She sure did. Facetimed her roommates to show ‘em off.”

You take a few more paces in silence, the gentle breeze sifting through your hair. It’s nice, just wandering with Joel. His warm arm hooked around yours, safe, steady. You feel you could lean into him and let him guide you along like the wind, all trust in his capable hands.

Then your dad rattles over toward you guys with a squeaky-wheeled cart and fucks it all up.

Joel, ever the casual one, slowly unlinks your arms. He ain’t got nothing to hide. Just being chivalrous to his buddy’s daughter.

“Where to first?” your dad asks.

“Wish I knew.” Joel strolls inside, and you follow, heading into the chilly store.

Joel decides the easiest – and quickest – way to get this shopping trip over with is to split up. He takes decorations, your dad offers to grab some of the food, and you’re left with drinks.

You mosey down the aisles with your janky cart squealing every time you turn. Under fluorescent lights, you spot shelves of soda and make for them, dodging a half-empty cage of stock someone’s emptying.

There are so many brands and flavors it’s actually kinda intimidating, and you wish you had Joel here to tell you which ones he wants. That, and also to reach them for you. The Dr Pepper is on the top shelf, and even though he’d probably tease you for not being able to reach first, his tall form would pull down a crate in one swoop without you even having to ask.

“Oh, let me get those for you!” a voice calls from behind, and you swivel around to see a kid– sorry, a guy in a Costco uniform rushing over from the other side of the aisle. The sides of his strawberry blonde hair are shaven, longer on top, gelled back. Round cheeks, flushed bright pink.

His equally pink arms reach up and grip a crate, pulling it from the shelf.

“Could you please…grab me one of the lemonade, too?”

“Sure thing,” he says.

“Thanks.” You smile as he lays the second carefully in your cart.

“No problem. You new around here? I recognize a lot of folks, never seen you before.”

His name badge reads Zack. It suits him, you think.

Your hands are locked tight around the cart handle. He’s not doing anything wrong, but you still feel awkward. You rock softly from side to side, answering, “Nope, lived here my whole life. Well, that’s not entirely true. I lived in New York City for a few years for college.”

“New York, huh? What’s that like?”

“It’s…good. Kinda place you gotta experience to really…experience, I guess.” You nervously scratch your arm.

“I’ve love to hear more about it. I went to college for, I think, two semesters? And dropped right back out. Wasn’t for me. Are you…Sorry, I’m not tryna be forward. Are you…with anybody?”

“Oh, I, uh…”

Right then you feel the air stop short at your side and notice Joel out of your peripheral vision.

“Hey, you found ‘em,” you say, barely above a whisper, looking at the packs of paper plates locked inside his tight knuckles.

He tosses them into the cart on top of your soda, looking down at you over your shoulder.

“You found drinks.”

“Yep.” If the ground could swallow me up right about now, that’d be great.

Zack shuffles on his feet, looking from you to Joel. He looks panicked. You bite back a laugh.

“Thanks, son.” Joel’s voice is muted, toneless, and he takes the cart straight out of your grasp in one sweep, a quick nod in Zack’s direction.

You don’t move, instead hang back to give the assistant a grateful smile and tell him, “We’re in a bit of a rush. Party’s tomorrow.”

“Wow, well, have fun!” he replies. As you swing off to follow Joel, Zack hops along after you, tapping your shoulder.

“I didn’t catch your name?”

“Naw, but she caught yours, Zack!” Joel yells. Emphasis on the K.

“See ya,” you whisper.

“Makin’ friends, are we?” Joel mutters as you catch up to him.

You lightly hit his bicep. “I couldn’t reach the soda.”

“Poor baby.” He pets his lip. You smack him again, but your stomach floods with heat. Joel doesn’t make note of it. “Need your help pickin’ out a tablecloth,” he says.

“A tablecloth? What’s so hard about a tablecl–”

You round the corner and Joel nods ahead, to where an entire wall of party supplies sits. On the shelves, piles of paper plates, cups, and napkins, and on the pegs above, bags, tablecloths, confetti, cutlery, banners, and bunting.

“Oh…”

“I was thinkin’ that pink one with the stars on it.” Joel nods to the left, finger scratching his nose, where a baby pink sheet lies, white stars all over. You try to mask your frown.

“No?” he asks, looking over at you tensely.

You tilt your head back in his direction. “It’s just…she made such a big deal about bein’ too old for a barbecue. If she’s too old for a barbecue, ain’t she too old for…”

“Pink?”

You flash him a gentle smile. “I reckon she’d like that one.”

You point to a white tablecloth, decorated with metallic gold dots.

“So, no pink, no stars. Gold polka dots are fine?”

“Sure,” you reply.

“Keep me right,” Joel whispers, leaning over to take the packet from its hook.

“Got some nibbles,” your dad’s voice yaps as he joins you two, dumping a dozen bags of candy, chips, and what looks like half the snack section into the cart. He sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “We all done?”

“Just gotta get some platters,” Joel replies, pulling a handwritten list and pen from his back pocket and glancing down it.

You lean over to check it out, smiling at his haphazard handwriting.

Cups

Soda

Plates

Tablecloth?

Balloons

Food

Cake

He draws a line through soda, plates, and the tablecloth.

“You gettin’ a cake?” you ask him.

He replies without lifting his eyes from the list. “Next door neighbor’s doin’ it. She has a bakery in town.”

Your dad’s over by the bunting, studying it all with his hands clasped behind his back.

You lower your tone, leaning in closer. “Neighbor, huh? She cute? She single?”

Joel tuts and gives you a dead-eyed stare. “Might be. Not sure.” He tilts his head. “Why don’t we give her Zack’s number?”

You raise an eyebrow and take the cart from his hands.

“We’re done, Dad. Deli’s on the way out,” you tell Joel, and he follows at your heels.

You didn’t take Joel for a man who spends ten minutes deciding which food platters to buy, but when it hits two-thirty and he’s still standing with his chin between his fingers, you sigh.

“Is it this big a deal?”

���I imagine it is; it’s Sarah we’re talkin’ about here.”

You can’t help the smile that grows on your lips, seeing how determined he is to make it perfect for her. It’s cute, alright? Who would’ve thought Joel Miller would concern himself so much with deli platters?

“Quit that,” he tells you, not even looking in your direction.

“Quit what?”

“Your starin’. Give us away.”

Your hand comes up to shove him and he grabs it, looking over your shoulder to check your dad’s not looking when he pulls you close to him.

“Don’t make me tell you twice, baby.”

You raise your eyebrows, smug grin on your lips, and his eyes dance down your body.

He suddenly lets go of you and you realize why seconds later when your dad’s heavy arm smacks down over your shoulders.

“We done, Joel? There’s this show on National Geographic about sharks I’m tryna catch.”

You roll your eyes at Joel who hands you an amused grin, then places a couple of platters into the cart and leads y’all to the checkouts.

“I’ll take the cart back, get you both at the truck.” Your dad makes off, janky wheel squeaking off to the front doors.

Joel shakes his head in his wake, as bemused by him as you are. You smile Hello to the cashier.

“How are y’all today?” he asks.

“Good, thanks,” you reply, watching Joel’s thick arms hold the crates of soda up to be scanned. He’s tensing, veins lining his tan skin. You could bite into him, you’re so needy. It’s only been a fucking week.

The red light flashes across the barcode with a beep and he settles the drinks down to grab his wallet.

You glance around as he pays. From over Joel’s right shoulder, a familiar set of buck teeth approaches. You avert your gaze, swerving to hide between Joel and the counter.

“I’m goin’ on my break, Tom!” Zack’s voice rings out, and you feel Joel’s chest shift around your shoulder.

“You got the bags?” he asks, casually. Unbothered.

“Mhm,” you reply, not achieving the same level of coolness as he did. Your voice quivers as your eyes scan for Zack, hoping he won’t catch you.

Poor guy. He was friendly enough. Just, you happen to think Joel’s friendlier.

Even if he notices you, you’re already being swept out of the store by Joel, both crates of soda and the platters on top in his arms; a feat that might’ve killed Zack in the soft drinks section. You wander off together back out into the burning heat, eyes squinting in the sun.

Your dad is stood in deep conversation with someone by the cart return, a man with a balding head and blue jeans that you don’t recognize. “I’ll be over in a minute,” he tells you both as you pass, “work stuff.”

Joel loads the truck and you jump in the back.

“You not gonna sit up front with me?” he asks, turning back to you.

“And make my dad sit in the back?”

“Punishment for holdin’ us up.”

You raise your eyebrows and climb over the front seat, sitting in place next to Joel. His hand reaches over and cups your thigh. You like it, feeling like this is your spot. Right next to him. Co-pilot. Captain of the radio.

You probably don’t like the same music Joel does, though.

You bring a hand down to lace through his, fingers intertwining between your legs.

“So, Zack?”

You lean your skull against the headrest and glare up at the roof of the car. “I have no idea. He was just talkin’ to me.”

“He seemed to like you.”

“I’m very likeable.”

“Did you like him?”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately? He look my type?”

Joel gives half a shrug.

“Don’t get all jealous,” you mutter, turning to check on your dad.

“Jealous,” Joel repeats, with a scoff.

“Uh, ‘She caught your name, Zack!’” You echo Joel’s rough inflection, emphasizing his Texas twang, stressing the K the way he did.

“That wasn’t jealousy, baby,” he says softly.

You huff, looking away and crossing your arms.

“You want me to be jealous?”

“No.”

Yeah, you do. It was kinda hot.

Joel’s smirking, you can see it from the corner of your eye.

“I…want you to be…It was hot when you…Well, I…It’s more that…In a word, I’d say–”

Joel’s hand squeezes yours, letting go and sliding slowly up your thigh. Your ears are throbbing with blood rushing when he finally stops just shy of your underwear.

“Got it,” he whispers.

Your eyes drift from his hand up to his expression. If it weren’t for the sweet smile he was giving you, you’d call him arrogant. But his warm expression, the way his head is tilted against his seat to look at you, really take you in, the upturned corners of his mouth…

It’s just as well your dad hauls the truck door open when he does, before you can throw yourself at his best friend.

“I’m in the damn back then, am I? Assholes,” he murmurs as he – struggles to – climb up into his seat.

“Blame your daughter,” Joel chuckles, hand reaching around the back of your headrest to reverse, “huh, Trouble?”

You open your mouth to clap a reply back, but your dad interrupts.

“Trouble?” he asks, brow cocked.

You spin around to watch his face contort in confusion.

“Who the heck is Trouble?”

“Your kid. Always causin’ it,” Joel says.

“Is she, now?”

You cast a look at Joel, out of sight of your dad. Are you fuckin’ serious?

He grins in return, driving off out of the parking lot.

----------

Joel had dropped you guys off on the way home from Costco. You’d wanted to stick around for a few minutes after your dad had hopped out of the truck, but he was relentless.

“Let Joel head off, he’s got a busy evenin’ ahead,” he’d insisted.

Joel had given you an apologetic glance as you unbuckled your seatbelt and followed suit.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He’d quickly kissed the back of your hand as you bid him farewell.

When Sunday rolls around, you spend the morning checking in with him, asking how the party’s looking and receiving photos to judge his decorating skills.

You: Not quite as good without my input, but it’ll do

Joel: Nothing’s quite as good without your input.

When it’s almost time to go, you’re still in the mirror making sure your outfit is perfect for Joel.

Perfect for the party, you mean.

You adjust the strap of your green dress, pulling the floral fabric over your bra. Totally innocent. Just a nice summer dress.

With slutty lingerie hidden underneath.

You’re only wearing it to fuck with him. You know that. Nothing is gonna happen at a fucking garden party. But your eyes flit across your body, trying to get into the mind of a forty-eight-year-old, watching the tops of your thighs as the wind lifts your skirt…

You unlock your phone and your thumb dances over the text thread with Joel. You’d taken some pictures before you’d slipped the dress over yourself, honestly just ‘cause you thought you looked hot, but now that the idea’s in your head…you might as well.

You: Does this lingerie say ‘garden party’?

You hit send and shut your eyes tight until you see stars, blindly throwing your phone to the floor and pacing back and forth. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck was that that was so stupid he’s totally gonna laugh at you you loser he’s–

It doesn’t take long for your phone to vibrate with Joel’s reply. You dive for it, grabbing it with a swoop of your arm.

Joel: Slutty garden party, sure.

You snort. Dick.

You: Like it?

The typing indicator pops up, then disappears, then returns. Three dots blinking at the speed your pulse is racing. Type quicker, old man.

Joel: I prefer what’s underneath it.

Your chest shudders with a sudden inhale. Your face begins to heat. A terrible idea has crossed your mind.

You’ve never been one for sexting. Not much, anyway. Certainly not on an actual message thread. Snapchat, sure, where the messages disappear from both your screen and your mind as soon as you’re done. But never somewhere there’s recorded proof.

It’s kinda hot. Having evidence of you and Joel. Pictures and messages to look back on.

So, you lay back on your bed and spread your legs. Hook a finger around the elastic of your panties, pulling them to the side to expose your – already glistening wet – folds.

You lower your phone, snap a couple pics. Play around, spread your lips, take more.

Then you send one.

Fuck it, right?

You: Sounded like you were missing it…

Your phone’s ringing within ten seconds of hitting send. You pick up and Joel’s calling out to someone.

“–right back, ‘m just goin’ to change.”

Sarah replies something you can’t make out, and Joel sighs.

“Naw, it’s just not very…I wanna look right for it. You look great. Just– I’ll be right back.”

You giggle quietly into the phone. “Excuses, excuses, Miller…”

“The hell are you doin’,” he hisses, bedroom door closing in the background, “sendin’ me that without a warnin’?”

“I did send warnin’,” you protest. “You must’a guessed when I sent the first one what the second was gonna be?”

Joel sighs and you giggle, laying back on your bed. Your hand returns between your legs and you whisper a moan, fingers sifting through soaking folds.

He goes quiet for a second.

“You playin’ with yourself, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“Feel good?”

“Yup,” you reply.

“You want me to make you cum over the phone?”

Your breath shudders and your chest heaves. Every damn time, he blows your cool every damn time.

“Uhuh,” you whimper. “’m so fucking wet.”

“Yeah? So needy, baby. Got yourself all riled up, haven’t you? Need me to fix it for you, take it away.”

You moan.

“You still wearin’ those little panties?”

You hum in response. He knows it’s a yes.

“Take ‘em off.”

“Joel, I’m leavin’ in–”

“Off.”

You obey him, dropping the phone onto your bed beside your ear and raising your hips, elastic of your underwear sliding over your pelvis and down your legs. You drop them to the floor and your hands resume position.

“Good girl,” he says, hearing you moan when your fingertips meet your clit again. “That better?”

“Mhm,” you croon.

He hisses, says, “Yeah. Gonna fuck yourself for me, pretty girl?”

You whine a Yes, and hear the clink of his belt buckle, the zip of his jeans. His voice echoes, bouncing off what you assume are his bathroom walls, when he tells you to slide a finger inside yourself. He lets a breathy sigh pass his lips, and you know he has a fist around his cock.

Your fingers dip inside your opening, collecting your slick and rubbing it up and down, soaking your clit before they return to your cunt and slip inside. You gasp, the stretch too good to keep quiet.

Joel murmurs another Good fuckin’ girl, and you can hear his soft panting. It drives you insane.

“Joel,” you whisper, “want you here.”

“I know, darlin’, I know.”

“Want you to f-fuck me.” Your swollen clit ruts against the base of your palm, the bone rubbing it so fucking good, and you squeeze your eyes tight shut.

“Soon, baby, promise,” he tells you, his hand pumping his cock, the sound of his precum coating his shaft floating through your cell into your ear. “Keep goin’, pretty girl. Bein’ so dirty for me, so fuckin’ good.”

Your back begins to arch, his praises and the sound of him jacking himself off pushing you closer and closer, warmth and pleasure flooding through your body from your core.

Joel speaks again through a strained voice.

“Wanted to fuck you yesterday,” he says, “so fuckin’ bad, baby.”

Your breath halts, cutting short in your throat.

“Wanted to,” groan, “sh-show that fuckin’ kid who you belonged to.”

You breathe a laugh laced thick with arousal. “Who I b…belonged to?”

You’re enjoying the thought as much as he is. Joel fucking you senseless in front of anyone who looks twice at you. Showing them that only he can make you feel good, only he can make you cum the way you do. The thought causes a whimper to escape your throat.

“That’s it, baby. You like that?”

“Yeah,” you whine.

“Tell me, pretty girl. Tell me.”

“’m yours, Joel. Fuck. Fuckin’ – yours.”

You’re whispering his name over and over, adding a third finger, imagining it’s his cock fucking in and out of you.

“So – close – baby,” he’s grunting, and you sigh in agreement. You’re writhing around on your mattress, legs wide open, hands pumping in and out and rubbing circles all over your sensitive cunt, wishing it was Joel all over you.

He’s moaning now, quietly humming down the phone to you, and it starts to undo the knot in your stomach. Your walls clamp around your fingers, hand begins to slow on your clit, and you utter his name before you fall silent, throat closing up as you climax.

The sound of your orgasm sends him over the edge right behind you. He groans, your name on his lips as he climaxes, repeating it over and over. You’re still coming to when he quietens, moans staggered, breathing heavy.

“Good?” you ask, fingers massaging yourself after your high.

“So good, darlin’,” he whispers, “did so good for me.”

You smile at his praise. Did so good for him, like you always do. It sends your head spiraling.

You dip your soaked fingers in and out of your soft cunt, lying in the bliss a little while longer, listening to Joel do his jeans back up and fix his belt.

He must figure what you’re up to, because he lifts the phone back to his mouth and says, “Tell me how you taste, baby.”

You don’t even think twice. You slip your fingers from your dripping cunt and suckle on them, moaning into the phone for Joel’s benefit. He lets out a low growl.

“Sweet as sugar,” you tell him, and he hums.

“Hey, hon?” your dad’s voice snaps you back to reality.

You’re not on some different plain with Joel’s voice purring in your ear. You’re not in private. You’re laying on your bed with your legs spread, Joel on speakerphone.

Your legs slam closed and you sit up straight, shushing Joel, who’s chuckling quietly into your phone.

“Yep?” you reply, voice shaky. “Shut the fuck up,” you hiss down the line.

Your dad pushes your door open as you stand, straightening your dress.

“Ready to go? I don’t wanna be late for Joel.”

“I don’t think he’ll mind.”

“He will. C’mon.”

He closes the door over when he leaves. You tug your panties back on and bring the phone up to your ear, speakerphone now safely off.

“Do you? Mind?”

“’s long as I get to see your pretty little face, I don’t care, baby.”

You smile. Then you think it over.

“…but you’d prefer I was there on time, right? Y’know, so you can spend more time with me?”

“Uhuh. Sure. More time with your ass, too.”

“Alright. That’s nice. See, you just ruined what could’ve been a really sweet moment. How romantic, Miller. Once again, your dick gets the better of you.”

Joel laughs. “Ain’t that what this whole thing is? My dick getting the better of me?”

You gasp, offended. “And here I was thinking you liked me for my personality.”

He scoffs. “Will you just get in the damn car and get your ass over here?”

You’re fixing yourself once more in the mirror; there can be no signs of what just happened.

“I’m cominggg…” you drawl.

“Good girl. Bring that personality of yours, too.”

You snort and hang up without saying goodbye.

Your dad is stood at the bottom of the stairs as you march down them, legs still a little weak.

“Sorry, kiddo, I just don’t wanna be late. Joel’s wantin’ us there first, and Rita will be waitin’.”

Your brows furrow in response. He elaborates.

“She’s comin’, too, I’ve to give her a ride.”

“Sooo…we’ll arrive at Joel’s around midnight? Just checkin’, so I can let him know. Y’know, she likes to take it slow in the car.”

“Ha-ha. Funny. Get your things.”

“Can I take my own car? We can race, see who gets there first.”

Your dad sighs. “How am I s’posed to explain that to her?”

“Just say Sarah wanted me over early.” You cock your head like a begging puppy. “Please?”

He nods, exasperated, and waves a hand toward you. “Go on, get. Take that salad, will you?”

You sit the ceramic bowl on your hip and skip to the front door, belting it into the passenger seat before heading for Joel’s.

He’s out back when you arrive, platter of food in his hand. He looks casual, like he wasn’t cooing you through an orgasm, like, twenty minutes ago.

“Hey, cowboy,” you call from the patio door.

He sets the platter down on the tablecloth you picked out and strolls back toward the house, hands taking your waist as soon as he’s close enough.

“Your dad here?”

“Nope,” you whisper, “he’s bringing Rita.”

Joel dips his head and presses his lips to yours, rocking you back and forth. You giggle against his mouth.

“Dress is nice,” he murmurs when he pulls away, your foreheads together.

“Oh, you should see what I have on under it.”

“Already did,” he whispers in a cocky song, and you laugh again into his kiss.

His tongue sneaks past yours, and you squeal when his hand drops to squeeze your ass under your short skirt.

“You’re gonna make me drop this salad!” You bat his smirking ass off of you to set your dad’s handiwork safely on the table.

The moment is broken by the sound of Sarah’s voice from the hallway. You both split apart, Joel heads back outside while you walk over to the fridge to grab a soda.

“Welcome home banner’s slipped, Dad,” she yells out the window, and Joel gives her a thumbs up. Sarah rolls her eyes and turns to you. “Hi, you!”

“Hey,” you reply, giving her a toothy grin. “Soda?”

She reaches a hand out and you pass her a Coke.

“I have never seen my dad so stressed,” she snickers, can to her lips.

“Me either. You don’t wanna know how long he took to decide what to get from the deli.”

Sarah silently wanders through to the living room, beckoning you to follow. You glance up at the streamers still hanging from the ceiling, the slanted banner above the TV.

You throw yourselves down on the couch and she rounds on you.

“So…?”

“So?” you say, taking a sip of your soda.

“What’s been goin’ on? We haven’t properly caught up yet.”

You shrug. “Not much. Workin’ at Sal’s, loving life. What’s been going on with you?”

“Oh, come on. You really got no news for me?”

“What news do you want?” You snort, lifting the can to cover your flushed cheeks.

Sarah shrugs. “I dunno, boys? Gossip? Drama?”

“What are you, thirteen? Thought you were a big Cali girl now.”

She tuts.

You sigh, conceding. “No boys, no drama happenin’, and the most gossip I know is Anna called in sick last week and then Sal’s niece saw a picture of her on Instagram at some house party. ‘s all I got.”

Sarah looks unconvinced. She smirks. Her eyes thin, only for a second, but you catch it.

“How’s your dad?” she asks after a tense stare-off.

“Fine,” you reply. “He’s bringing Rita.”

“Aw. I’ll miss ‘im, then. Won’t be here ‘til sundown.”

You giggle into your can, “That’s what I said, dude.”

Joel shuffles into the room then, making for the banner. Your eyes track him as he leans over the TV, strong arms reaching up to fix it into place. He grunts as he pushes the pin back in.

“Need a hand, Dad?”

“Nope,” he replies, “’m good.”

Your chest tightens as the memory of the last time that banner was pinned into place floods your memory. Sat atop Joel’s shoulders, pulling him into you when he set you back down. Then, him fucking you on the couch, right where your legs currently lie, Sarah’s draped over them.

And here he is, able to reach it all by himself all along.

You clear your throat, suddenly feeling flushed.

“You good?” Sarah asks when you sit up straight, fanning yourself with your hand.

“Is it hot in here?”

Joel turns, eyebrows raising.

“Crack a window, Dad.” Sarah’s fanning you now, too, wafting a magazine in your face.

He moves for the window and slides it open, pulling the shades back in attempt to get some airflow.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, hand on Sarah’s wrist. “I’m fine.”

She lowers the magazine and stares you down. “Are you pregnant, or something?”

Joel chokes, clearing his throat over by the window, and you bat Sarah’s leg.

“No, idiot! It’s just hot. You’re not hot?”

Sarah flicks her hair over her shoulder, chin lifting. “I’m very hot, actually.” She stifles a laugh at your expression. When she leans over to set her soda on the table, you shoot Joel a look.

He raises his hands in surrender silently and heads out of the room, reminding you guys that the party starts in twenty minutes.

“You like your decorations?” you ask once Joel’s gone.

Sarah’s eyes widen and she nods. “I heard you had a thing or two to do with ‘em.”

“I was creative director.”

“He’s so cheesy, ain’t he?”

“He just loves you. I think it’s cute.”

“I’ll bet you two got into, like, six arguments while you were puttin’ them all up. Right?”

You blink rapidly, trying to clear the memory from your eyes in case she reads it. “Nope. None. No arguments.”

You’re thankful when Joel’s front door pushes open and you hear Rita calling down the hall for Sarah, who jumps up and skips to meet her. When you follow, Joel’s in the kitchen doorway, watching you carefully. You know he heard every damn word, from no arguments to you thinking he was being cute.

You ignore him as you brush past, smug smirk on his face.

The backyard slowly starts to fill with more and more people as the afternoon goes on, sun rising higher and higher into the sky. Sarah is swept off by a small wave of school friends, all nineteen, none of whom you really know. One of them asked if you were her sister, and you choked on your drink before Sarah snorted and said, “No, dumbass, she’s my dad’s best friend’s daughter.”

They’re standing like a flock of seagulls over by the pool, shrill giggles piercing the air every ten seconds. Taking selfies, updating Instagram stories. Oh, to be nineteen again.

Being a senior citizen of twenty-three means, unfortunately for you, that you spend most of the afternoon tailing your dad and his buddies. At the food table, slowly depleting of the snacks your dad had practically raided from Costco, you’re witness to a conversation between him and Bill about the housing market.

“…I mean, if she wanted to get a place of her own,” your dad waves a hand in your direction, “how’s she meant to do it? What are they doin’ to help the younger generations get their foot in the door, hm?”

Bill’s shaking his head. Looks like vexation, like he’s agreeing with your dad, but you’ve a sneaking suspicion he’s just pacifying him.

“Maybe you’re better headin’ back to New York, after all, hon,” your dad says, and you raise your eyebrows, biting down on your bottom lip.

“Missin’ it yet?” Bill asks.

You shrug. “Sometimes. Was nice being around people who were into the same stuff as me. But I like being home.”

He nods, looking back down at the pool, sunlight gleaming off the water in ripples.

“She’s got plenty to keep her occupied,” your dad snorts. “Me ‘n Joel keep her right.”

You bite back a laugh. If you only fucking knew.

Bill chortles. “Joel Miller, keepin’ someone right? Now that’s a sight I’d like to see.”

You look over to him, pretending to laugh along, but your brows drop in confusion.

“Ah, they’re close, y’know?” your dad says. “He looks out for her. Think he keeps her on the straight and narrow better ‘n I do, these days, doesn’t he?”

“He, uh…Yeah, sure.” You can barely look him in the eye.

“Tell you what,” Bill twists around to grab another fistful of nuts from the table, “there ain’t nothin’ the good Southern air won’t fix. I notice a difference in you, this time around, kid.”

“Yeah?”

He nods enthusiastically, cheeks full. Still chewing, he says, “Oh, yeah. Hell, you used to come home for Christmas or whatever, ‘n it was like you were bored. Miserable. No offense, don’t take that the wrong way.”

You scoff. “Which way should I take it?”

“Now that you’re back here for good,” he continues, not hearing you, “‘s like someone switched a light on. Doesn’t she seem brighter?”

Your dad turns to survey you and eventually nods. “You happier here, kiddo?”

You shrug, mumble an, “I dunno.”

The men laugh. Bill gives you a clap to the back and strolls off back inside, leaving you and your dad alone.

“Why didn’t you ask that– that boy along?”

“Who? Sam?”

He nods. “Remember you had that date scheduled– I mean, not-date?”

You narrow your eyes. “I don’t think this is his scene.”

“Garden party not macho enough?”

You shake your head in bewilderment. “Macho?”

“Who’s macho?” Joel’s gruff voice sounds from behind.

You swing around to tell him, “Nobody,” and he shrugs, cheeks full with the sandwich he’s just thrown in his mouth.

“Nice,” you muse. “Very garden party of you.”

“Right?”

You smirk, peeling back the wrapper of the cupcake on your plate.

“Those,” Joel leans in, smirk on his lips, voice low, “were made by Nat.” He nods over toward the patio doors, where a blonde woman in a long purple dress stands, chatting to another of Joel’s neighbors. “Remember I told you she was makin’ a cake?”

You turn back to face him, narrow eyes set on his. He smiles innocently, and you can’t help but return it, butterflies tickling your stomach.

“Damn good cake it is, too,” your dad mumbles from your side. “Try some, hon.”

You lift the cupcake to your mouth, never letting go of Joel’s gaze, and run your tongue along the pink icing, collecting it all on the tip. Joel doesn’t move. He’s watching your lips.

Your teeth sink into the soft cake – it is fucking good, though you’d never admit it to Joel. He’s having far too much fun watching you; any more inflation to his ego and he might explode.

“Hm,” you run your tongue over your top lip, “tastes alright. But it’s pink. Sarah’s too old for pink.”

You throw the cupcake back onto your plate and roll your eyes.

Joel scoffs. Entertained. Nice job, kid. “Here,” he says, “you got some icin’ on your–”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead, licks his thumb and wipes it along the edge of your lip, collects the icing, then slots it back between his own, and sucks it clean.

Right in front of your fucking dad.

You’re honestly about to mutter a sincere thanks when you remember he’s standing right at your elbow, watching the whole thing. Watching his best friend run his wet thumb across his daughter’s mouth and then taste her on his tongue. Like it’s nothing.

Joel realizes halfway through what he’s doing and yanks his thumb out of his mouth a little too abruptly, nodding at you as if he’s just been courteous. He clears his throat when his arms are back by his side. “Uh…”

Your feet are heavy against the patio. You feel like your limbs are stuck in place, save for your hands, which cause the paper plate locked between your fingers to tremble.

“Th…Thanks.”

It’s all you can muster up the courage to say. You can feel your dad’s eyes on your shoulder like the sun burning your skin.

“Yeah. No problem.”

You stare between the two of them, unsure who’ll break first. Unsure if either of them will, or if you’ll have to cave and say something.

A swish of fabric against the back of your calves jolts life back into you and you hear a soft voice in your left ear.

“See you’re enjoyin’ the cupcakes, then?” she hums to Joel. Your stomach tightens.

“Uh, yeah, they’re, uh…real good, Nat. Thanks again. We were just sayin’ how good they are, weren’t we?” He holds a hand out, past you, to your dad, who nods along. You start to back away.

Joel can tease you all he wants about his next-door neighbor and her pink cupcakes, but you’ve truly never felt more grateful to have another woman approach him and take some of the heat off of you. In a blur of embarrassment and the tiniest sliver of thrill, you take off into the house.

Bill’s in the living room with a couple other men, watching something on TV. You flash by the door and straight upstairs, where it’s quiet, empty. You lock yourself in the bathroom, head immediately falling into your hands.

“Fuck,” you whisper into your palms.

Your pulse is racing, face flushed with color and heat, embarrassment seeping all over you. What the fuck was he thinking? Was he even thinking?

It’s not unlike Joel to do stupid stuff like this just to mess with you when you’re alone. But you know, from the look on his face, from how speechless he suddenly got, you know he didn’t mean it. You know that, right now, he’s probably outside, still being pestered by that lady Nat, feeling the exact same as you are on the inside.

You steady your breathing and crack the window, peering through the sliver of light. Your dad’s still by the snacks. You can hear Nat resuming conversation just below you, out of sight by the patio doors. Where is Joel?

You pull the window open a little more, and crane your neck to scope the entire yard. There, by the pool, Sarah’s friend is stuffing as many marshmallows into his mouth as he can, while the rest video him, hysterically laughing.

You notice a flash of flannel by the work shed and spot him; making his way down a stone path between some bushes. Rita’s on his arm. Good. Means he escaped your dad without much damage done.

You rinse your face over with splashes of cold water, check yourself in the mirror, and head back out. A roar sounds from the living room as you round the bottom of the stairs.

“I didn’t know bowling was so fuckin’ excitin’!” Bill yells.

You slip through the kitchen, drowned in golden sunlight, and back outside. Nat shifts to let you by her and you smile gratefully, her purple dress sweeping across your legs again.

You follow the path behind Joel’s shed, up some steps and dip your head beneath the greenery. It’s obvious what he’s been up to since you and Sarah left; he’s good with his hands. He’s landscaped most of his yard; starting behind the work shed is a small, private pathway which leads to a secluded patio, decorated with potted plants, shrubs, and two wooden chairs. It’s out of view from where the rest of the party are, but you can look down on pretty much everyone from here.

Rita and Joel are in conversation when you round the corner and his eyes lock onto yours.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greets you, so casual you almost forget what just happened. The man is so fucking cool, it almost riles you.

“Thought I saw you guys wander off.”

“Oh, honey, here, take my seat.”

“No, Rita, really. I’ll sit on the arm of Joel’s.”

You lean back onto the wooden arm, thighs dangerously close to Joel’s hands. He flinches as you settle, like he wanted to put a protective hand over your leg, and then remembered your company.

“Nice garden party, huh, Rita?” you chirp, eyes flashing across Joel’s face.

He shakes his head, knocking your leg with the back of his hand to tell you off.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous. Fine day for it, too.” Rita looks up to the clear sky. “Only the best for our Sarah. I’m just keepin’ Mr. Grump company over here.”

“Mr. Grump?” you snort, looking from her to Joel.

He sighs. “I am not bein’ a grump.”

“Are too,” she replies flatly, and Joel turns to stare at her.

“It’s hard work hostin’ so many people, alright?”

Rita chuckles, giving his arm a light slap. “He’s all the way over here to escape the party,” she tells you, sweet smile on her face.

You return it, saying, “That doesn’t sound like Joel at all. He loves people, don’t you?”

Joel grumbles, taking a sip of his beer.

The three of you sit quietly for a few minutes, Rita relaxing in the warm summer air, shade from the trees keeping her cool. You, too close for comfort to Joel, breaking out in a sweat with the need to talk to him about the cupcake incident. And Joel, almost looking bored, right arm on his armrest drawing shapes at the small of your back.

You could fucking scream.

“Well, honey,” Rita eventually says, “since you’re here, I’m going to run to the ladies’ room. You help me up?”

You carefully pull Rita to her feet, and she shakily wanders off back toward the rest of the party, waving a hand and telling you not to let Joel out of your sight. You take her seat in her absence.

“Arm not comfortable?” Joel asks, eyes on the party.

“Huh?”

“I said, arm not comfortable?”

“Not as comfortable as a whole chair.”

“Hm.”

You mock hum in response. “You want me back on the arm? You that needy, baby?”

He looks at you. His tongue in his cheek. “Nah, want you on my lap. But arm is less obvious.”

His words knock the wind out of you, but only for a few seconds. You’re getting good at not swooning at every sexual reference this man makes. You’re also getting shamelessly good at responding to him, matching his energy.

So, you stand, and, while checking nobody’s watching, shuffle over. Back to Joel, you lower yourself down onto his thigh. Swing your head around to look him in the eye.

“Better?”

In reply, he takes your waist in one hand and shifts you so you’re at a ninety-degree angle to him. His knees facing north, yours west.

“Better,” he confirms.

Your brows furrow. “What are you–”

“I thought it over. You ‘n that Zack boy.”

“Wouldn’t say he was a boy, was probably my age–”

“That Zack boy,” Joel repeats. “Him chattin’ to you, asking you about New York. Wantin’ to know if you’re single.”

How much of that conversation did Joel hear?

“He was just–”

“Makin’ conversation? Nah. He was into ya.”

“Well, if you say so. So, you thought it over?”

“Uhuh. I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“About what?”

“About walkin’ up to find you bein’ chatted up by some loser.”

“Oh, ouch, Joel. Zack’s feelings are hurt.”

The corner of his mouth trembles, holding back a laugh. Then he leans in.

“I don’t like to see anyone with their eyes on my girl.”

His girl.

Something inside you stirs. Something between your legs…tenses.

“Your…”

“You think that was nice? The way he was lookin’ at you? You think he wanted to be your friend?”

You stare at him, mouth agape. No words bubble to the surface.

“Nah, baby. He wanted you the way I want you. The way I have you.”

“You…have…And how is it you have me?”

“Sat on my lap, pretty little mouth wide open, wet enough that I can feel you through my jeans.”

He leans back in his chair, and you watch him wordlessly.

Your breath stammering, brain struggling to compute, you mumble, “What are you gonna do with me, then?”

“Hm?” he tilts his head.

“I said, what are you gonna do? With me?”

“Well…” he takes a drink from his bottle, and then studies it in his hand. “I thought you could sweeten my beer for me.”

Your eyebrows raise on their own, your body on autopilot.

“S-sweeten…your…b…”

Joel nods. His eyes track over to the rest of the party, and then back to you.

“Nobody’s watchin’, darlin’. It’s just you ‘n me. Go on. Do it for me.”

He takes the bottle and uses it to part your legs, before sliding it under your dress. You watch like you’re not even inside your body, just a passenger to Joel and his movements. All you know is you want him to do whatever the fuck he’s about to do.

The lip of the bottle pushes your panties aside, and you feel it line up at your lips. Joel looks up at you then with a question in his gaze.

You stare at him a few moments longer, and he lets you. He knows you’re taking this all in, even if it feels like it’s all in slow motion. He lets you take your time with your answer.

You nod, breathless. Do it. And he pushes up.

Your fingers immediately lock around his wrist, the beginnings of a moan escaping your lips. Joel tuts softly, wrist never stopping, just slowly inserting the bottle, neck gliding through your wet folds to your center.

You’re gasping, still holding onto him to steady yourself, coming back to earth only momentarily to check nobody’s nearby.

“Ain’t no one comin’, sweetheart,” Joel coos in your ear, “I’m watchin’. Just you enjoy.”

When the bottleneck fills you up, he pulls it back again. Your eyes begin to roll at the feeling of it dragging out of you. Your head cocks, body going limp. Lips seal shut, trapping a whine.

You rationalize it with three things. First off: nobody can see you here, not from down on the patio. Second: even if they could, Joel’s watching. And thirdly: you don’t give the slightest of fucks.

Joel and his ideas, Joel and his fucking ideas, forever pushing any other thought out of your head and replacing it with a want to please him, a need to do the things he asks of you. Forever washing away all your good instinct, leaving behind only the ache between your legs and the lust behind your eyes.

Joel starts fucking you – really fucking you – pumping the neck of his bottle in and out of your cunt. You’re doing everything not to scream out. Your hand grips tighter on his wrist and he smiles, looking down to the sight of the pair of you working together, fucking you together, chasing your high together.

“Liked it when I touched you, didn’t you,” he breathes, wrist jacking, “liked when I put my hand on you in front of everyone.”

“Did you like it?” you ask, head lulling, eyes folding shut. Legs opening wider just a fraction. Back beginning to arch.

He laughs. “Yeah, I liked it, baby.”

“Then I liked it, too.”

You like it when he talks to you. Like picturing the things he’s saying. The shock of Joel’s thumb on your lips. The desire you felt to part them and suck on it, right there and then.

Then, a twisted thought crosses your mind.

“Did you…did you like…oh…did you like N-Nat comin’ up…to you?” you whisper as Joel pushes the bottle deeper.

He growls, teeth locking together in some weird grimace of a smile. “Who’s jealous now, baby?”

You smile, head falling back. The sky is bright and blue and it burns your eyes to look, but then, your whole body is aflame.

You know he doesn’t care about anyone else. Know you’re the only one he wants to be doing this stuff with. But you’re there now, so might as well follow it through.

“You don’t– Fuck, Joel, fuck…You don’t think she’s…h-hot?”

He hums. Considers it. “Who’s sitting on my lap gettin’ fucked right now, pretty girl?”

“M-me,” you wobble, grinning.

“You,” he agrees, and pushes the bottle further.

You start to feel dizzy, the blood pumping through your ears deafening you. You place your hand on Joel’s knee to steady yourself as your legs give, cunt dripping everywhere. You can hear it, can feel it.

“Joel,” you pine, “’m close.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Joel’s purring, lips pressed against your ear. “You can cum, baby, I got you.”

Your hand comes up to grip the collar of his shirt – you’d worry about it looking suspicious, but your mind is somewhere else entirely as the pressure between your legs starts to unravel at rapid pace. It all becomes too much too quickly, and you can’t stifle the sounds from your lips any longer.

Your legs clamp shut, knuckles whiten, pussy throbs around the neck of Joel’s beer bottle. You cum for him for the second time today, quietly whimpering as his free hand rubs your hip, coaxing you back to earth.

“That’s my girl,” he breathes, “good girl. All over it, darlin’, that’s it.”

“Joel…” you’re panting, orgasm bearing down on your body.

He’s still lulling you through it, whispering words you can’t make out into your ear, lips pressed against your hair. He slowly slips the bottle from between your legs and sets it on the armrest, replacing his hand on your bare thigh.

It’s fucking covered in you. Your wet runs down into the beer, slick coating the outside of the neck. You can’t take your eyes off it, can’t fucking believe what’s just happened.

You take a deep breath of the sweet breeze, Joel’s arms around your waist, rubbing you gently. You lean down and nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck.

A few minutes pass, couple songs on the stereo go by. Your hands toying with one of his, your breathing steadying against his chest. Joel mumbles into your hair.

“Your dad’s lookin’ for us.”

“How d’you know?” you mutter into his shirt, eyes closing over.

“That’s the third time he’s gone in ‘n out of the kitchen.”

“Maybe he’s just hungry.”

His chest jumps once with a laugh and he sits you both up. You stand wearily and Joel holds onto your hand as you slink back into the chair by his side. As you heave one leg over the other, core still throbbing, your dad emerges from around the shed. Joel lets your hand drop.

“Rita’s wantin’ home,” your dad murmurs, rolling his eyes.

“She ain’t much of a partier,” Joel says, lifting the beer to his lips. You stare at the lip of the bottle as his mouth kisses it, drink mixed with…well, you, spilling out onto his tongue. The neck is pearlescent with your cum. You feel lightheaded.

“You alright, honey?” your dad asks, and his hand comes down on your shoulder. Gently, but it still makes you jump.

“Y-yeah,” you reply, dragging your gaze from Joel’s lips. “Just…the sun, I think.”

Your dad looks worried, rubs the top of your back. “You need to go home?”

You shake your head, panting a little. “No, I’m good.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Joel says. The bottle’s between his thighs now, he’s twirling it. It’s like it’s a trophy to him. He props his elbow on his armrest and gives your shoulder a squeeze.

Your dad gives Joel an appreciative nod, then glares back at you. “You call me if you need me, alright? I’ll be ten minutes, tops.”

You muster up the energy to make some joke about going too fast in the car with Rita. Your dad chuckles, then nods again to Joel, and disappears around the corner.

“You okay?” Joel asks when he’s gone.

You return his glance, energy coming back. “Sweeten your beer? Where the fuck did you come up with that one?”

He’s grinning. Do you want to slap him, or mount him?

“Can’t let you in on all my secrets, can I, darlin’?”

You roll your head back, resting softly against the wooden chair.

“Alright. Just keep doin’ that.”

“Doin’ what?”

“Surprising me. See where it gets you.”

Joel laughs through his nose; you hear the quiet rumble of his chest.

“We better get,” he says, tapping your knee as he stands. “Before everyone goes home.”

“Thought that’s what you wanted?” you reply, taking his outstretched hand and pulling yourself up.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Joel mutters as you walk off in front of him, “did I say before everyone goes home? I meant to make everyone go home.”

Joel gets his wish soon enough. It’s almost four o’clock when you return to the party; Sarah and her friends are up in her room, Bill’s roped about three others in to join his new bowling watch party, and most of the guests are either gone, or getting ready to head. The garden is empty when you throw yourself back on a lounge chair, enjoying the quiet.

You feel yourself dipping in and out of sleep, sun keeping you warm, breeze lightly kissing your cheek. The music from the stereo has been turned down, so you listen contently to the quiet hum of country, making a mental note to tease Joel about it later.

You’re filled with a peaceful content, a little tired from your ridiculous antics, but happy. You’re starting to understand what Bill was talking about; that bright cheeriness always makes an appearance when you’ve been around one person in particular, doesn’t it?

“Dad?” Sarah’s voice sings through the open door from the kitchen. She peers through the shades, spotting you by the pool. “You seen my dad?”

You shake your head. “Not a clue.” Lifting the bottom of your bottle to drain the last of your beer on your tongue, you haul yourself up – with a huge effort – to sit up straight.

“Will you tell him I’m goin’ out? We’re gonna catch a movie.”

“I’m not invited?”

She snorts. “You can come if you want. Thought you might still be feelin’ funny, is all.”

“I’m good. Enjoy. I’ll tell ‘im when he makes a reappearance.”

“Bye, babe!” she disappears back into the house.

You give her a wave as her silhouette heads down the hall. Joel’s back gate squeals open and your dad’s voice calls in from your left.

“That Rita can chat, huh?”

He latches the gate closed, then drags a deckchair over beside you.

“You were quicker than I thought you’d be.”

“She wanted to show me some cross-stitch thing she’s been workin’ on. Told her you weren’t feelin’ great ‘n I should probably head back.”

You furrow your brows. “Poor Rita, she means well.”

“I know, I know. Just, next time you see her, keep the story up.”

You scoff. “You seen Joel?”

Your question is answered by the grumble which sounds from the kitchen. He appears seconds later, stretches his arms high above his head, then stalks over.

You did try to avert your gaze from the trail of hair under his belly button. You swear. But it was right fucking there.

He hoists a second chair over to your right. “Too much effort,” he mutters, throwing himself into it. “I’m glad they’re all gone.”

You laugh lazily and rest back. “Sarah’s gone to the movies.”

Joel nods in response, the sun hitting off of him and lighting him like some kind of Adonis. You struggle to pull your eyes away from him, mesmerized by the way the light hits his worn skin, reflects out of his deep-set brown eyes, ignites strands of his graying hair.

You fucking hate what he does to you, the aftermath of him making you cum. As if there’s some drug running through your veins, making you want him, need him. Need his arms around you, his skin on yours. Need more of his attention, as if phone sex and whatever the fuck that was with the bottle weren’t enough for the day.

Your eyes travel down his strong, thick arms, hair covering them just the perfect amount, down to his hands; rough, worked, but gentle, kind. They grip the armrests of his chair, and you imagine the same grip around your neck as he…

“Y’know, actually, this was a lot less stress than I thought it’d be,” your dad yaps, bursting your bubble. “Why so last minute, Joel?”

“Sarah only decided she wanted somethin’ a few days ago, and she’s out of town next weekend, so had to be this week.”

“Oh? Me ‘n her both. Where’s she off to?”

Your head darts around to look at your dad. Then, when he speaks, back to Joel.

“Nashville. Just for a few days. Goin’ with some friends from school, I think. They’re flyin’ out on Friday, be back Monday night. Girls’ trip, I guess.”

You shoot back to your dad, like you’re watching a damn tennis match.

“Funny that. Don’t you have a girls’ night on Saturday, hon?”

Staring at him dumbfounded for a few seconds, you nod slowly. “Mhm.”

“I’m headin’ up to Fort Worth for work,” he tells Joel.

Joel looks at you from the corner of his eyes. You slowly draw your gaze to meet his, mouth falling open a little.

“Yeah? This that big fancy client of yours?” he asks your dad, shifting in his seat.

“Sure is. He’s askin’ too much of me, these days. All these late nights, now workin’ the weekends?” He lets out a little chuckle, shaking his head.

You tear your glance from your Adonis to the pool ahead of you. You finally find your voice, knowing that, with this final piece of information, the fate of your weekend is sealed.

“You there long?”

“Just Saturday through Sunday.”

Well, fuck.

You and Joel exchange a knowing glance, his eyes darkening already.

“I’m sure you’ll be alright without me for one night, hon,” the voice from your left chuckles, but you’re both already elsewhere.

You will be fine without him, of course you will. You’re twenty-three. You’re a grown-up.

And you’ve got Joel to keep you company.

----------

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[https-florals]

Hi! Your request are silly open right? If so would you mind writing something along the lines of JJ and the reader have been dating for a bit and JJ keeps like complimenting or praising the reader and the reader can’t help but blush/get turned on and JJ notices she has a praise kink so he teases her with it a little more, especially if n front of their friends until he finally used it like in bed with her?

sweet talk - j.m.

word count: 2.5k

summary: jj finds out a very valuable piece of information about you.

warnings: SMUTTT under the cut, 18+!! lotta praise, slight dumbification but just a tiny bit, jj being sexy per usual, public fooling around kinda but not really, not canon because i like to pretend the chateau is still with us LMAO

a/n: okay obviously i became OBSESSED with this idea when i first read this ask!! started as a little blurb but grew to this monstrosity lol. thank you for the ask!!! i love you all so so much 🫶🏻

Even though you and JJ have been together for about a month, you’re still pretty shy. You’re still shy in public, shy when he kisses you, even more shy in bed. Your boyfriend would give you the world if he could, do anything to get inside that pretty little head of yours and see what you’re thinking. You’re becoming a little more relaxed around his friends, which he’s grateful for.

Tonight, everyone is sitting around the fire pit outside the Cháteau. It's a pretty summer night, with fireflies darting around and stars peeking through the clouds.

You’re perched on J’s lap, John B and Sarah in a similar position next to you. Kie and Cleo are doing a shotgunning contest, and Pope is actually chill for once, a blunt in his hand.

You’re roasting a marshmallow over the fire, laughing with Sarah about a new sitcom episode, when JJ taps your arm.

“Will you make me a s’more?” he sticks his bottom lip out in a pout, and you roll your eyes.

“Can’t you make yourself one?” you tease, but still slide a graham cracker out of the box and a mini hershey’s.

“Tastes better when you make it, though.” He’s not wrong, you make a mean s’more. When you go to hand it to him, he just opens his mouth.

Your eyebrows shoot up and your jaw drops, but your lips still curl into a smile. “Fine.” You adjust so you’re facing him a bit better, and hold the s’more as he takes a bite. JJ’s blues don’t leave yours as he takes a bite, and you kick yourself mentally as he groans out of satisfaction. This shouldn’t be this attractive, after all, it’s a s’more. That's like, the least sexy food ever, you tell yourself. Now a slice of juicy watermelon, you could get behind. But right now, you’re just being ridiculous.

You’re snapped back to reality when he swallows and exhales, hand squeezing your thigh. “Atta girl. Was a damn good s’more.”

Your cheeks go fire hot.

“Dear god, this is not the place for foreplay!” John B groans.

You clap your hand over the lower half of your face as Sarah starts to laugh.

JJ throws a beer can at him. “Man, Sarah's been grinding on you for the past half hour and I haven't said shit. Are you not in like, massive amounts of pain?”

It's John B's turn to blush, and he looks down at the ground quickly when Sarah snorts, pressing her lips together in an effort not to laugh.

“Are we being too…” you’re struggling to think of the word as you whisper to your boyfriend- “Pda-ish?” Surely not, because he had a point about John B and Sarah. They’re all over each other all the time, and you should be able to do the same.

“No, no!” JJ’s eyes are wide as if you told him that you were thinking about shaving your eyebrows off. “You’re doing perfect, baby.” His hands rub up the sides of your arms, and you smile, all bashful.

Butterflies fill your stomach at the way he’s looking at you.

“Absolutely perfect,” he repeats, and before you even realize it you’re subconsciously squeezing your thighs together.

As soon as you do it, you hope he doesn’t notice, but his lips curl into a little smirk after the realization hits.

You hop up quickly, and wipe your sticky marshmallow fingers on your shorts. “I'm gonna go get a blanket! I’m a little chilly!” you chirp, and nearly sprint into the house.

Gears are turning in JJ's head. He’s chuckling as he sips his beer, so much to the point that Sarah gives him a weird look.

“What are you cracking up about?” she asks, watching the blond boy grin and shake his head.

“I just learned something very interesting about my girlfriend, Sarah.”

You come out of the house a few minutes later, and Kie has pulled out her ukulele. They’re all singing along to the Bob Marley song she’s playing, and JJ pats his thigh, an invitation for you to come back and sit on his lap. Tentatively, you take your spot, draping the blanket over the both of you. Under the fabric, your fingers shift over the frayed hem of JJ’s cargo shorts. His callused hand curls around yours, and he threads your fingers together.

You relax at his touch, and start to sing along with the rest of your friends. JJ lightly pulls on one of thin braids scattered through your messy hair, each one with a different colored thread running through it- courtesy of Kiara and Sarah. It’s nothing you’re not used to, and you turn your head a bit more toward him and frown. “What?”

“You just sound so pretty.” His voice is low, and it rumbles in your eardrum like thunder. You just know your cheeks are going pink again, and you try to fight the rising need you feel.

“My sweet, pretty girl.”

That’s it. You probably look like a tomato. You chew your bottom lip as you smile, and suppress the urge to kiss him right then and there.

JJ grins, and that’s when it hits you that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Damn, why are you all red?” Kie laughs as she hits a chord on her uke, and naturally everyone turns to look at you.

“JJ, what are you saying to that poor girl?” Sarah fake pouts and shakes her head at him like she’s scolding a puppy.

You cover your mouth, flushing even more with embarrassment.

“We’ve been goin’ on a little journey of self-discovery over here,” he answers, face all smug as his hand shifts to the top of your thigh under the blanket. His thumb just skims over the crotch of your shorts, so thin that you just know he can feel through them. Feel how wet you’re getting.

Your guess is spot on, cause his eyes widen and he does that thing where he sticks his tongue in his cheek and laughs. “Finding new things out about each other,” he continues, not breaking eyecontact with you.

“Is that a fancy way to say harassing her?” Cleo pipes in, snorting before she says, “You’re a bad, bad man, Maybank.”

He shrugs, all cocky.

Luckily, conversation carries away from the two of you, but his hand is still against your pussy. Thank God for that damn blanket. His fingers are idly running over the fabric, and it’s driving you insane.

“We need to go,” you whisper to him, uncomfortable with the burning between your thighs.

His eyebrows shoot up. “Do we?” You’re usually not the one dragging him away from social functions- that’s more JJ’s style.

You nod fervently, rocking back and forth on his thigh and trying to make it unnoticeable.

“C’mon, sweetheart, you know it’s rude to demand things,” he says back to you lowly, and you’re silently rejoicing that no one is paying attention to the two of you.

You swallow, and take a deep breath. “Please, JJ, can we leave?”

“There you go,” he sighs, and he helps push you up off him.

After a shit ton of teasing from the Pogues, you’re finally able to slip away. You’re barely through the door of your apartment when JJ jumps you, kissing you hard and running his hands up and down your sides, over your ass, and coming to rest just under the waistband of your shorts.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a praise kink?” he asks point-blank, against your lips as you’re fumbling with his belt.

“I don’t,” you gasp out, finally pulling it through the loops and throwing it down.

“Bullshit, baby.” JJ finally gets your shorts down, and his hand just ghosts over your underwear. “Tell me the truth.”

“Fuck, J,” you whine, pushing his shorts down and trying to shove your hand down his underwear, but he jumps back, leaving you devoid of his touch.

You huff like a child preparing to throw a tantrum.

“C’mon. Tell the truth.”

“I didn’t know I had one, JJ,” you cry, just wanting to feel him. You swallow, and follow up with, “Not until you.”

You can basically see his head get bigger as he grins, and finally puts his hands back on you. “All I wanted to know, sweet thing,” he laughs before he kisses you again, tongue slipping between your teeth. He tastes like beer and a little bit of marshmallow, and he smells like bonfire smoke.

He pulls away from you just long enough for you to both throw off your shirts, and then he’s picking you up and carrying you into your bedroom. JJ sets you on the bed all gentle, a startling contrast to the way he’s kissing you and touching you, the way he yanks your panties off and slides a finger between your folds. “Fucking finally,” he groans, nudging himself inbetween your legs. “Wider.”

You fall open for him, and he braces your hip with one hand. “Atta girl,” he says, and he slides two fingers in, slow and steady as he leans over you to trail kisses down your neck. You grind against his palm as he sucks a spot on your neck, your back arching and hips bucking. You watch his hand slide into his boxers, watch the movement of his hand slide over his cock.

JJ notices how enraptured you are, and he removes his fingers from you, a little shocked when you don’t make much of a fuss. “You wanna do something for me, pretty?”

That’s all it takes for you to drop to your knees, thighs pressed together as he pulls his dick out, and you’re absolutely bewitched. You sit back on your heels and look up at JJ, a perfect little picture of innocence with your eyes all wide… and then you open your mouth.

It’s fucking pornographic. There’s no way in hell you’re real, JJ thinks, as he curls your hair around his hand and thrusts into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around him, and his head falls back. “Good fucking girl.”

He also doesn’t think you’ve ever been this bold for him. But holy shit, he’s not complaining, especially when you gag around the tip of his cock. Your mascara is smudging beneath your eyes, lips swollen and looking so pretty wrapped around him.

You’re squirming, and JJ can feel the vibration of all the little sounds you’re making as you suck him off.

“Go on and touch yourself,” he gasps out as he hits the back of your throat.

However, as soon as you moan around him, JJ knows he won’t last long, and he wants too badly to come inside you to let himself get any closer. He’s pulling out quick, ignoring your cries as he pulls you up and pushes you onto the mattress.

On your knees, you fall facefirst into your pillow. JJ smacks your ass once, and is then manhandling you into another position, like he can’t make up his mind. He spots the mirror propped against the wall in your room, and pushes you back on all fours. When you look up, you can see him behind you. You watch as he pushes into you, watch the way his eyes screw shut in concentration, the way his blonde hair sticks to his forehead.

Wriggling, you moan out his name and whine as he sets a steady pace, slow, almost too slow. “JJ…”

“What?”

When you just whimper in response, he shakes his head and stills inside you. “C’mon, darlin’, use your words,” he chides, hands smoothing over your hip.

“Go harder, please,” you’re begging, pushing yourself against him.

“There ya go,” he grunts, speeding up, pushing into you hard and deep. He smacks your ass, once, twice, relishing in the little cry you let out each time. He pulls you up against him, chest to your back, hand against your throat as he makes sure you’re looking in the mirror. Makes sure you’re watching him slide in and out of you. “Look at how good you’re taking me,” he groans, hand moving to your clit when he’s sure you won’t look away. “Go on, keep looking for me. Look at how pretty you look, babydoll. All fucked out, and your mascara is even running,” He laughs, and you clench around him at the sound, the burning in your lower stomach becoming almost unbearable. You shake your head, unable to get any words but JJ knows what you need.

He lets you back down slow, propped up on your elbows as he rams into you. You just know you’re gonna have bruising on your cervix, but that's a problem for later.

His fingers circle your clit purposed and quick, and you feel like you’re about to tip over the edge. The way he shudders inside you lets you know he’s not too far behind you.

“J, S’close. M’gonna-”

“Hold it,” he says, tone a little mean as he picks up his pace. He wants to fall apart with you.

Just when you think you can’t hold on anymore, can’t reign it in, he twitches hard. “Now, baby. Come on, all over my cock, pretty-” He cuts himself off by his own moan, spewing into you as your cunt spasms around him. “Good girl,” he repeats as he fucks you through both of your orgasms, over and over. “My good fucking girl.”

JJ is still murmuring it when he collapses next to you, kissing your forehead. “So perfect for me,” he says all soft with a smile and another kiss to your temple, a complete contrast to the low growl in his voice moments before. “Gonna clean you up real good,” he chirps before hopping off the bed and into the bathroom. You giggle as you watch him walk away, forever finding your boyfriend’s bare ass a little funny.

JJ comes back with a damp, warm towel and two glasses of sweet tea, and he gives one to you after he helps you move and sit back against the headboard. He pulls the old sex wax tshirt out of his drawer and puts it on you, then nestles himself between your legs to clean you up. You wince as he swipes the towel over your pussy, and he shushes you and puts a hand on the back of your calf, soft and comforting. “Did so good for me, honey,” he says again, kissing your forehead for what seems the hundredth time, and pulls the covers up over you both.

When you curl into him, tiredness hits you like a truck, and it seems to do the same for him as he yawns, and leans over to turn off the lamp.

“JJ?” you ask, quietly.

“Yeah?”

“So maybe you’re right. About me having a praise kink.”

He laughs, and pulls you a bit closer to him. “Yeah, no shit!”

You frown. “What? Was it that bad?”

“Damn, baby, if I woulda known you’d act like that if I talked all sweet to you, I woulda done it a long, long time ago.”

thank you for reading!! likes, comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated!

[tkwrites]

Elimination - Quinn Hughes x ofc

 gif by @thombordeleau 

Title: Elimination

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: Sad Quinn, fluff and comfort, smut (18+ only), unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f receiving), if I missed any others, please let me know. 

Summary: When the Canucks are eliminated from the Stanley Cup Playoffs, Sarah offers Quinn a kind of comfort he didn’t know he needed. 

Word count: 4,200

Comments: This snapshot has been a long time coming. The idea of Sarah comforting Quinn the way she does came to me while I was driving to work one day, and I immediately wrote it down. It took me quite a while to figure Quinn’s family into the story, including his brothers (yes! They're finally here!). 

As I was editing the comfort scene, I found the story continuing in a way I didn’t really expect, but mirrored Before I meet your parents… in a way I couldn’t ignore. 

If you enjoy it, please let me know by commenting or reblogging! Your comments really do inspire me to keep writing! 

Elimination 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

The playoffs were a whole different beast than Sarah had become accustomed to. Not only was the season much longer than any of the guys were used to, practices were more intense and heated, video more in depth, the need for rest and recovery more acute. She knew first hand how tired the team was because she knew first hand how tired Quinn was. 

In the first round, they'd lost the first game in the series before rallying to win the next three. The Kings won one more before the Canucks stamped them out with the last win coming on home ice in overtime. Despite the final score only being 1-0, it was the most exciting game Sarah had ever been to. 

When she was sitting with Quinns family, Luke had taken to teasing her in that little brother way every time her hands ended up clutching her face with each shot directed at Demko or Talbot. 

“Calm down, Sarah,” he’d said, when she jumped in her seat, hands flying up to cover her mouth as Demko barrel rolled to stop another shot from Kopitar.

She'd sent a playful glare his way, “I'm surprised Kylee hasn't told you you should never tell a woman to calm down. That's a surefire way to get yourself into trouble.” 

Kylee, who was sitting on Lukes other side, snorted. “Oh, I have. He just doesn’t listen.”

Luke took it in stride and laughed. He reminded Sarah so much of her oldest nephew, Ryan. Good natured, friendly and a little bit goofy once she broke through that shy shell.

Sarah glanced at Jack, who was sitting with his some of his cousins farther down the row. His eyes darted away, as if caught staring at something he shouldn’t. 

The strained way he acted around her was getting better, but he was still pretty standoffish toward her. When she asked Quinn what she could do to fix it, he said to just give it time, and Jack would come around eventually. He didn’t think it was actually anything about her, but rather Jack needing time to adjust to the situation. 

“I think he finally realized how serious I am about you.” 

“You’re serious about me?” she’d asked, all flirty lashes and coy smiles. 

“You know I am,” he’d responded before leaning in to kiss her. 

So, she turned back to the game, giving Jack time and hoping he would see  how much she loved his older brother and that she only meant well. 

When Garland shot the overtime goal off a picture perfect pass from Quinn, he managed to catch Talbot above the blocker, sending the puck sailing into the back of the net with a definitive whoosh. 

The arena erupted into a wall of sound.

The entire team, clad in blue, spilled onto the ice, throwing helmets and gloves, crowding around Conor and Thatcher. 

Quinn was ecstatic that evening. Practically bouncing off the walls of the club they went to to celebrate. Sarah had never seen him so loud - caught up in the atmosphere and moment. 

Halfway through the night, he pulled her into a dim corner and kissed her so thoroughly, she actually considered pulling him into the dingy bathroom to have her way with him right then. 

Jack interrupted, drunkenly loud, and demanded that Quinn come with him for a round of shots. 

Quinn paused, meeting Sarah’s eye. 

“Go celebrate,” she encouraged, trying her best to not come between them. She and Quinn could find a spare moment to celebrate on their own later. 

With his family in his house, that moment hadn’t come, but she was glad to see Quinn celebrating so heartily with his brothers. 

In the second round, after three straight losses to the Predators, Vancouver battled, forcing game five, before dominating in Nashville two nights later, selling their comeback story.

When they got back to town, the whole city was buzzing.

Despite the excitement, game six was awful to watch. Sarah had her hands over her mouth through most of it.  

Now that they were fighting to tie, and the Preds were fighting, once again, to clinch the series, Nashville was playing dirty: exploiting every Canucks weakness they could find. They needled, drawing penalty after stupid, preventable penalty until they were three goals up at the end of the second period. 

Quinn was exhausted. Sarah could see it in his skating and in the slumped set of his shoulders as they went into the dressing room for the intermission.

She sent him a text, I’m so proud of you. 

He didn't reply, but they battled back, holding off all Preds offense and getting within a goal by the time Demko was pulled at the end of the third. Quinn battled fiercely to keep the puck in the offensive zone for more than a minute, giving a master class on body-eye coordination as he skirted the blue line, dodging Nashville players as if someone were controlling him with a top ice view. 

Their passes were perfect: tic-tac-toe from Quinn to Mikheyev to Lafferty, but as Sam tried to get the puck to Höglander, the pass was intercepted.

Nashville fought to center ice and chipped the puck into the Vancouver end. 

Quinn chased it, but he just didn't have enough in the tank. He caught up just as the puck bounced back out of the open net. 

Full of frustration and despair, he smacked it into the boards. Caught at just the right angle, the puck ricocheted back at him, and he had to lift a hand to block it from hitting him in the face. 

Sarah could practically see the frustrated embarrassment radiating off him as he skated to sit down. 

Demko was pulled again and Quinn managed to get the empty netter back, but through the ugly march of time, the clock expired before they could score another. 

The buzzer sounded and Nashville celebrated, throwing equipment all over the ice, all hugging and jumping as the Canucks limped into the dressing room. 

Even despite the disappointment of losing, everyone was thrilled to see them get this far. Going from the middle of the pack last season to top of the league this year was no small feat. She knew Quinn wouldn’t be satisfied until they got the cup, but she was so proud of him. 

He sent a text, telling them to go home and he would meet them there when he was done with the media. 

It was torture for Sarah to have to leave and wait for him. She wished she could go down to the dressing room, but knew not only would she not be allowed in, Quinn would hate it. He would want to talk with her privately. 

Everyone was subdued as they puttered around the apartment, waiting for him. Both Jack and Luke were on their phones, sprawled out over the living room furniture, while Ellen, Jim and Kylee were doing something in the kitchen. Sarah was too nervous to even distract herself. Quinn had lost before, of course, but she’d never seen him lose like this — not this kind of a season-ending, brutal loss. 

When the elevator dinged, Sarah jumped to her feet, his family following suit, clambering into the living room.

To her surprise, Quinn came straight to her, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. His suit was rumpled, his tie attempting to slither out of his breast pocket. When she wrapped him in her arms, he practically collapsed against her. 

Ellen knew Quinn loved and trusted Sarah and that he spent far more time with her these days, but it was still a bit shocking when he bypassed them all to go straight to her for comfort.

Sarah reacted in a way Ellen never had and upon seeing the scene play out, she realized Sarah’s reaction may have been something Quinn had been longing for for a long time.

She would usually hug him for a while, before talking him down. They would soon end up dissecting shifts and plays. He would lament how he could have been better, and she would try to comfort him while still being realistic. 

Sarah just stood there, holding him. She didn't say a word, even when Quinn started to cry softly. She just ran a hand into his wet hair, while the other traveled slowly up and down his back. 

 She didn't assure or placate him, or even try to get him to stop crying. She just let him express the emotion without judgment or commentary. It hit Ellen suddenly that Sarah reacted this way because she had dealt with so much sorrow in her life, she knew how to comfort in these hard moments. 

The family stood by and watched. She didn’t look up and meet their eyes with a conspiratorial, he’ll be alright, look, or invite them into the embrace. Her whole intention was focused on Quinn. 

While it was sweet to see them together in this way, it was also a little awkward to watch, especially for the boys, who looked like they had no idea what to do.

It was full minutes before anyone said anything, and even then, it was just Sarah asking if he wanted to sit down. He shook his head so she did a little two-step, and kept on. 

As Ellen watched them interact, it was obvious how much they meant to and understood each other. It was so sweet to witness her son finding the person he needed that she pulled out her phone to record them, wanting to document the moment. 

When they finally spoke, Ellen was glad she was filming. 

“I let everyone down,” Quinn said, his voice choked with emotion, just above a whisper. 

“No.” Her voice was quite loud, the word definitive, leaving no room for doubt. It was a bit shocking to hear Sarah be so forceful.

Taking his jaw, she gently lifted his head up so he had to look into her eyes. 

“No,” she repeated, her voice a little softer now. “This wasn't only your fault, and it didn't happen because of anything you did by yourself.”

Ellen wasn’t sure she would go that far… If he had gone for a change, someone with fresh legs may have been able to chase down that empty netter.

“You don’t win as a team, but lose by yourself. That’s not how this works.”

Now she understood where Sarah was going. 

“I know this run is ending sooner than you wanted and I'd be more concerned if you weren't sad.” She paused for a long moment, looking into his eyes as if she was searching for something. When she didn’t find it, she continued, “I just - I want you to remember that I don't love you because you play hockey.” 

His lower lip trembled and Ellen felt hers do the same. 

“I love you because of this big, kind heart,” she said as she pressed a hand to his chest, “and because of this brilliant, thoughtful mind,” her other hand slid into the hair at his temple. “And those are the same as they were this morning. You're so much more than hockey.”

He was looking at her like she'd hung the moon. 

Ellen felt tears slip down her own cheeks. All her life, she’d been trying to strike a balance with her boys - trying to find the right way to tell them hockey was just a part of who they are. And here Sarah was, walking into their life, and saying the exact thing Ellen had been trying to say all along. 

Right then and there, the remaining reservations she had about Sarah were swept onto the back burner. She knew it would still take some getting used to, but how could she not love this woman standing in front of her, telling her son she loved him for who he was and not for the things he did? It was all she could ask for as a mother. 

She glanced over at Jack, who looked a little dumbfounded, as if seeing Sarah for the first time. Luke was smiling in a glad, knowing way, his arm looped around Kylee. 

Jim, standing on Ellen’s other side had a mixture of pride and disappointment on his face. Ellen knew he was going to battle with himself at the thought of Quinn crying over being eliminated. When they were kids, he would have told the boys to buck up, despite Ellen’s insistence it was okay for them to express their sadness for a little while. 

The happiness at seeing someone accept Quinn as he was won out, and Jim put his arm around Ellen with a conspiratorial smile.

“Of course you’re going to be sad,” Sarah continued. “Like I said, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t. But you,” she poked him gently in the chest to emphasize her point, “sure as hell didn’t let me down.” 

Quinn threw his arms around her in a fierce hug. “I love you.”   

“I love you, too.” 

He wiped at his eyes, then turned to the family. They embraced him one by one. 

After she’d hugged Quinn, Ellen went to Sarah, “I don’t know how you did that,” she said, pulling her close, “but that was exactly what he needed.” 

When Quinn made his way back to Sarah, he kissed her temple. His eyes were still red, cheeks still splotched with color, but he looked settled. Not satisfied or happy, really, but settled.

Later that night, Ellen sent the video to her sister, making her promise to not share it with anyone. She just needed someone else to see the tenderness. 

Oh, Elle, I'm so glad Quinn finally found a good one. I can't wait to meet her. 

At the same time Ellen was texting her sister, Quinn was lying next to Sarah in bed. Her words from earlier replaying over and over again in his thoughts. 

He'd practically begged her to stay over. She hadn't planned to with his family in the house, but he felt a bit needy and wanted the comfort of her next to him. 

“Thank you for tonight,” he said, turning to her.

She rolled onto her side so they were face to face. “I'm always gonna be in your corner, Quinn.”

Leaning in, he kissed her - gently at first, but it soon turned more passionate. 

The fact that they would be apart before too long was on both their minds as they made love that night. 

“Oh, Quinn. Right there, right there,” she chanted, voice soft. 

The simple fact that he could make her feel this way made his heart feel full to bursting. At least he hadn't lost that. 

Keeping eye contact, his hand traced to her left knee and pulled it up over his hip. He didn’t want her to have the same old orgasm. Not tonight. A big part of him wanted to prove he could still excel here.

Head tipping back, Sarah panted.  

His other hand came up to guide her chin back down. 

The way she clenched around him when their eyes met made his hips stutter.

She lifted herself up to catch his mouth. It changed the angle of his thrusts, making his whole body quiver. He tried to brace against it, slowing down and concentrating on kissing the breath out of her. 

It worked in that they were both breathless before too long, but didn't ease the feeling of being pulled to the very edge of his restraint. The competitive streak inside him wasn't about to allow himself to come before she did - especially not tonight, when he had so much left to prove. 

“No,” she gasped  when he pulled away. “I was right there.”

He laughed into her skin. “I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he said, before tracing his mouth over her clavicle and trailing his tongue between her breasts, savoring the salty taste of her skin. 

The blankets pulled with him as he settled between her legs, and Sarah gasped as the cool air of his room hit her. 

She looked so ethereal in a pool of soft light from one of the skylights, her chest rising and falling at a hurried, steady pace. 

“God, you're beautiful,” he whispered. 

Times like these, Quinn still wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to find Sarah. She seemed to be his perfect match in every way. It wasn’t always smooth sailing - nothing ever was. This summer was sure to take a toll on their relationship. He knew, somehow, they would come out on the other side, better and stronger, but all the same, he wasn’t looking forward to spending so many nights without her. 

Pushing that worry out of his mind, he concentrated the task at hand and lowered his mouth to her hot center. 

It was his turn to give thanks.

She was acutely aware of his family in the apartment: brothers on the floor below, while his parents were down the hall. They were never particularly loud in bed, but the thought of his family overhearing hushed her vocal cords even more. 

“Quinn,” she whimpered.

He ate up every whisper, every little whine and panted breath, knowing they were just for him. 

Making some unintelligible noise, her back arched, lifting off the mattress. 

She whined when he eased two fingers into her and lifted his mouth. 

“Help me find it?” he whispered, crooking his fingers.

“Higher.”

He moved slowly, not wanting to go too fast and pass over it.  

“There, there,” she panted. 

Reaching up with his free hand, he disentangled her fingers from the sheet so he could grasp her hand, linking them together.

“You can press a little harder. It’s not as sen -” her voice broke off into a groaned, “oh, fuck,” as he urged that soft, spongey spot with a heavier touch. 

They’d done this more after his revelatory first time, and he loved discovering new things about her. He still had a hard time finding her g-spot on his own, but he was learning. Tonight felt like a whole new ego stroke, one he was seeking if he was being honest with himself.

His mind wandered back to the first time he’d touched her, the way she’d reminded him of Helen of Troy - beautiful beyond belief. He ached for her the same way now as he watched her fall apart. Mouth dropped open as her body pulled taught as a bow string, one hand grasping the headboard for stability while the other clutched his like a vice.

As she came down from her high, he kept his fingers pressed into her.

Even as she squirmed against the sensitivity from his strong touch, she felt a blaze of pleasure reignite in her belly, faster than it ever had before. 

Still kneading with his fingertips, he lowered down, sucking her sensitive pearl into his mouth. She let out a strangled cry that left him dizzy with satisfaction. 

The contrast of his warm mouth and soft tongue on her core against the harsh rasp of his playoff beard on her inner thighs wound her tighter and tighter until he was sparking so much ecstasy in her body, she couldn't quite remember why she was trying to be so quiet.

Her fingers tightened in his at the same time her legs trembled and he knew she was close. He continued on, mouth soft and steady while his fingers worked with more focused intent. 

The way she whimpered his name made him groan and rock his hips into the mattress to get a bit of relief.

When the tension in her pelvis finally snapped, Sarah cried out. 

It was only after she came back to herself and he eased his fingers from her that she worried about how loud she'd been. 

Before she could ask, he knocked her breathless again as he slid his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them with apparent relish. 

“Did I yell?” she whispered as he crawled back over her. 

He shook his head, “not too loud. I don't think they heard.”

The anxiety ebbed away as he leaned in to kiss her. 

“Can you turn over?” he asked, lips barely grazing hers. 

She pulled back to look into his face. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he said. 

“You already did. Twice.”

“Please?” he asked, ghosting his lips over her cheek, “let me make you come one more time.”

In reality, Quinn was tired, but his pride was insistent, eager to feel her again and he knew if he got her on her stomach she’d come faster than in missionary. 

He could see worry in her expression, but she did as he asked, the sheets clinging briefly to her back as she rolled. 

One of his hands grazed down her side, following the curvature of her hip before tracing her hamstring all the way to the knee. Hooking his hand there, he eased her leg out to the side. 

He really was spoiling her. Eagle with a broken wing was her favorite position other than missionary, but they didn’t do it terribly often, both generally preferring to see the other when they were together. 

She felt Quinn’s heat before any of his skin, and raised her hips slightly to facilitate him. 

“You’re —” she broke off into a groan as he eased into her again. She was so sensitive, she was fairly certain she would have fallen apart all over again if he had given her an intense enough look. Heat was already climbing up her spine and he hadn't even moved yet. 

His hands appeared near hers as he braced on his forearms. She moved to lace her fingers through his. 

When he began to thrust, he felt her fingers curl until her nails kissed his palms  

Listening to her sweet sounds, he couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to live in her forever.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, chaos sparking all over her skin. “I didn't think I could come this many times so quickly.”

Her hushed statement rushed to his head. “Sarah,” he moaned into her neck. “Fuck, Sarah.” 

His mouth traced the curve of her neck before gently biting the ridge of her shoulder.

The prick of pain from his teeth combined with the way he was hitting her g spot in a steady, continuous rhythm had Sarah’s mouth falling open. “Oh. Quinn,” she moaned. “Just like that. Please don't stop.” 

Feeling out of his mind with pleasure and pride, he rested his forehead on her back.

Only after he felt her tremble and pulse around him and chanting that he loved her, he let himself go, spilling into her with a loud groan he tried to muffle into her skin. 

They stayed that way for a long while, his sweaty chest pressed into her back. He was a comfortable weight, pressing her into the mattress.

Quinn talked himself into moving and eased out, his wince matching the breath she hissed through her teeth. Before he could decide which side to roll onto, she was turning onto her back, and pulling him into her embrace. 

Resting his head on her chest, he sighed. 

Sarah smiled, tired but gratified and pushed a lock of hair off his forehead. She wanted to get up and go to the bathroom, but waited, knowing Quinn needed this extra affection.

“I don't…” he started to say, then trailed off, slowly tracing a circle around her belly button. 

He had never felt supported and loved like he had today. Not only when she just let him cry, but when she reminded him that she loved the things about him that weren't his job. 

Quinn hadn't known how much he needed to hear Sarah’s words until she was saying them. His whole family was so entwined in hockey that, even though he knew his parents loved him, it sometimes felt like his success and failure in the arena were wrapped up in their affection and approval. It was one of the reasons Jack always felt like the favorite child, as he had the most natural talent. 

“You don't?” she urged when he didn’t say anything else.

He shook his head and took a steadying breath. “I feel like I don't deserve you.” 

A little smile played on her lips, “I feel that way sometimes, too, but I'm not really sure it's about deserving. Everyone deserves love.” 

She paused for a long time playing with his hair. It relaxed Quinn, causing him to practically melt into her.

“I'm glad we're both willing to put in the work and try to meet in the middle,” she said quietly.

He agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her breast.

As they stayed that way for a long time, Quinn felt cocooned in her love and hoped she felt the same. 

“Okay,” she said a little while later, starting to feel sticky and itchy, “I’m sorry, but I really need to shower, or at least rinse off.” 

They took a quick shower, and Quinn changed the fitted sheet as she redid her skincare. 

When they finally fell asleep tangled together, she in a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, and he in his boxers, it was well after three. 

After sleeping like the dead, Quinn woke close to ten, still feeling that strong swell of gratitude easing the disappointment in his chest. 

If anyone in his family had heard them, they were all excellent actors, and didn't say a thing. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist 

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