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#fanfic gap
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Warning || Men Like Me
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Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girth age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), gratuitous descriptions of Joel Miller's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, breaking and entering, playboy magazine, objectification, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 6.2k Summary: Joel's warnings about what men like him would do to girls like you only makes you want him more. A/N: Back in the depths of hell again, you guys. Now this isn't the most depraved thing I've written by any means but it's up there. Come say hi in my chat or inbox, I'd love to talk. Keep a look out for follow up parts and pleeeeease give me comments. I am very very desperate.
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Joel Miller was a bad man. That much he knew. 
Even as he fixed taps and renovated houses that were falling apart, he could see the blood on his hands. The very hands that packed lunches for Ellie snapped necks, pistol whipped men, stole from a starving child so he could feed his grown brother. But there were lows even he didn’t stoop down to. 
Not that he didn’t have the opportunity. Men always did. And in this world, opportunities had only tripled. Even the Boston QZ, as strict as it was, had an underground brothel. He knew Tess to frequent it and never asked questions. Sometimes she needed to bury her face between a good pair of thighs and wrap her lips around a pretty pussy, and this wasn’t something he could give her. There was a lot he couldn’t give her.
Being in Jackson should’ve civilized him. It did in many ways. He’d reverted to the southern gentleman with table manners. ‘Yes, Ma’am’ spilled out of his lips effortlessly when he spoke to women. He held the door for anyone walking in after him. He even went to Church– sorry, the multifaith house of worship–to help renovate. 
That was where his troubles began. 
There was no point in him going where people prayed. Being back in civilization did not erase his decades of disbelief in a cruel God who would take his baby and keep him on this accursed Earth. But he did because he was back to being a contractor and Tommy asked him to go fix up the pews instead of him. He didn’t have much time, being a new dad and all.
He was on his knees checking out the rotting wood and evaluating how much wood he’d need for building new ones when he was confronted by a pair of legs and a sweet voice. Yours. 
“Lemonade, Mister Miller?” 
He looked up, his eyes traveling up your legs, bare until he got to your knees where the hem of your flowery skirt sat. Pure, unblemished knees, never taken a fall, didn’t fucking creak, and never knelt before anyone but God. You looked down sweetly, eyes wide and innocent like a newborn cow. Everyone had a kind of darkness about them in this world. Everyone except the kids who didn’t know a world outside the insular walls of Jackson. And you, it turned out, even though you weren’t a kid.
He wiped his sweat off with the greasy rag he carried and looked up at you once again. You had a pitcher and an empty glass in your hands. A sweet smile on your lips and hair falling down your shoulders and reaching your breasts. A yellow ribbon sat in a bow where your neckline dipped between your breasts, adding to the innocence of your look.
“Yes please, Ma’am. Thank you,” he said, giving you a nod. Your pretty plush lips curled up, a giggle escaping them as you poured him a glass of lemonade. 
His hand brushed against yours as he accepted the glass, his hand too large to curl around it without making contact with you. You giggled again before retracting your hand and occupying it with adjusting your hair. 
“I’m younger than you, you know? Don’t have to call me Ma’am.” 
“Just being polite. Ma’am.” He took the glass to his lips, mindful to take only a small sip instead of downing it in desperation. Another adjustment to make when food was no longer a scarcity. Sweet, sour, and salty danced on his tongue before it glided down his throat. Just a sip refreshed him. And the sight of a nice girl didn’t hurt the cause either. 
It’d been so long since he had a nice refreshing glass of lemonade. Summers meant worse infestations of infected, not the barbecues, lemonades, and swimming of past. When surviving each hour was under threat, small luxuries like this became out of reach of even one’s dreams.
“Well, guess I should call you Sir then,” you said, leaning against the wall. You held the pitcher up to your chest and the tails of the ribbon on your chest dipped into it, the soft shiny yellow turning dark, tainted.
His mouth watered and fucking hell, it wasn’t the lemonade you just gave him. He took a sip of the drink and licked his lips, imagining how you’d taste if he wrapped his large hand around your neck and pressed his chapped lips to your plush ones. Better yet, if he held your legs apart and devoured you other pair of lips until you were leaking down his mouth. Would you call him Sir then? His cock twitched in his jeans as he pictured you bent over one of these pews, your skirt pushed up and his hand in your hair as he slid his cock in your hole. 
Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck was wrong with him? 
“Made the lemonade yourself?” He asked,  groaning as he managed to get himself back up on his feet. His knees creaked like the floorboards of the houses he renovated, but ultimately supported him as he stood. He towered over you, making you appear smaller, more fragile. 
“Depends. Do you like it?” 
“It’s wonderful, of course. Hot summer day like this…I really needed it,” he said, raising the glass up a little before taking another sip. 
“Well then yes, I did make it.”
He chuckled, feeling himself pulled in by your easy charisma. It was nice to have normal conversations like this once again. No agenda, no need for establishing himself as someone who wouldn’t hesitate to beat someone up if even mildly threatened. It was just…normal. 
“It’s very sweet, Ma’am. Like you I assume,” he added, mentally dusting off the part of his brain where he stored skills for conversing with pretty girls.
You laughed, holding your free hand up to your mouth to cover your lips that widened and revealed your teeth. 
“Is that the southern charm that I hear our townspeople talk about?” 
“They talk about my charm? I didn’t hear.” 
“Oh yes, they do… Joel Miller, charming pants off of everyone in town.”
“Pants? Well that’s disappointing. I was hoping I’d charmed some pretty skirts off.” 
“Lots of experience with that, Mister Miller?” you asked, sliding your hand over the soft fabric of the skirt of your dress. Such delicate fabric. He could fist the hem and give it one tug and it’d rip right off.
“More ‘n what you got for sure,” he said, loath to hint at how infrequent his encounters had become in the recent past. Tess died, he did a cross country hike with an annoying kid, he needed to maintain a good reputation in his new town. One buried after the other. Enough to leave a man with nothing but his fist and his imagination. He would kill for a fucking Playboy magazine. Literally. He’d killed for less.
“What do you know about how experienced I am?” 
“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.” 
“Oh well. Nothing I can’t learn.” 
He laughed nervously and stuck his hand in his jeans pocket. Surely you couldn’t be flirting… Why would a young thing like this flirt with him? He was in his late fifties looking like mid sixties and you were… He didn’t know. Young.
“If you could teach me, Mister Miller. Give a girl some experience?”
“I’m sure you can find someone else.” 
“Oh. Not your type, am I?” you asked, and he deluded himself thinking you sounded disappointed. No chance. 
He didn’t have a type. Long time since he thought of frivolous shit like that. But you shouldn’t be his type. 
“There’s much more eligible men in town is what I’m saying,” he said, suddenly hesitant to lie. Lying had never been an issue for him. The right thing was to lie, say you weren’t his type so he wouldn’t cross lines. It’d been a long time since he did the right thing.
“I’ll be the decider of that,” you said with a shrug of your shoulder before taking the empty glass from him. “Have a good rest of the work day, Mister Miller.”
Later that night, he wrapped his fist around his cock in the privacy of his room. His mind flooded with images of you spread out for him, sweet lips and a sweeter pussy milking him. He couldn’t even recall the last time he was with a woman. It was Tess, of course. Sometime before she got thrown in FEDRA jail for the last time. Too fucking long ago.
Surely it was only because it’d been a long time since he got his dick wet. He’d never, in his entire life, pictured a woman so much younger spreading her legs for him. Sucking his cock. Crying out his name. How old was she even? Not past mid twenties for sure.
It was wrong, he knew, as white hot spend spurted out of his cock and covered his hand. A sour tang took over his mouth as the fog of unadulterated lust cleared up to reveal the ugliness in his head. He shuddered, feeling like something had crawled under his flesh. He hadn’t felt guilt like this in so long. 
Wrong, wrong, wrong. 
You weren’t even as old as his kid would be had she been alive. 
He’d known men like that back in the day. Grays in their hair and skin like old leather, but pretty young things old enough to be their daughter hanging off their arm. It was obvious that none of them kept these girls around for love or for their personality. It was always sex and the feeling of self-importance when a sweet young thing paid attention to balding heads, beer bellies and limp dicks that needed a blue pill to get up. 
Fucking disgusting. 
He began avoiding you whenever you happened to be in the same space. At the house of worship, the town clinic where you interned, trading days when people exchanged what they had for what they wanted. His eyes never met yours and he always quickly looked away when they stared too long at your uh…feminine features– pretty legs, cute ass, round tits. Where the fuck did you get sundresses anyway? Who kept that shit around in this world? 
He didn’t know that when he avoided you, you took note of him. When he took glances of your features, you memorized his for later in the night when you buried your head in your pillow and pushed your fingers inside your pussy to simulate what it must be like to be with a man. 
He was older. That much you knew from his grey hair, sun-damaged skin, and gait that exuded bone-deep weariness. You knew Tommy had just turned fifty. Hard to miss occasions that meant a free slice of cake from the canteen. Joel had to be in his mid-fifties at the very least. At first glance, he wasn’t what you’d consider handsome. There were younger men in town. Fit and muscular. Didn’t groan and scrunch up their faces when they got up. Didn’t have lines on their foreheads. No bags under their eyes. 
Yet there was something about Joel that was more entrancing. 
After your first meeting when you offered him lemonade, you made sure to visit under the guise of worship. You didn’t know much about religion and were conflicted about embracing a god. The only faith you had rested in your medical instruments and the medicines the town’s chemist concocted. But it was a nice place to meet people, to check on healing patients.
The visits were worth it for a glimpse of Joel’s large hands wrapped around his carpentry tools. When the sun was the hottest, he sometimes stripped down to his tank top, giving you a show better than any film played in the community theater. His broad back looked masculine enough in his flannel shirts. But you didn’t know desire like the first time you saw him in a white tank, showing off his muscular arms as sweat dripped down his tan skin.
When you pleasured yourself in your room, it took time, imagination, your fingers, and a lot of effort to make slick pool in your pussy. That day, all it took was the sight of Joel Miller working. You sat with your thighs pressed together, rubbing them against each other in the most inconspicuous little movements. 
Could it be blasphemy if the God who was supposedly orchestrating everything made this man take his shirt off in front of you?
It made no fucking sense. Joel was old. He looked like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed every goddamn day. He had been chewed up and spat out by whatever the fuck was outside Jackson these days. Hardened expressions, graying patchy beard, hands calloused from carpentry and decades of using weaponry. Features that only indicated a long life lived, not attractiveness.
You were supposed to be attracted to the soft, sweet ones like the guys in the worn out copies of romance stories that the previous inhabitant of your house stashed in the basement. Even his little brother would be a more reasonable target for your lust. Younger, taller, softer, head full of dark, silky hair with few grays. But you wanted Joel Miller with his rough graying beard that would prick your skin were you to cup his cheek like the women on the novel covers. 
Something about him just screamed Man. Something that none of the other guys in town had. There was nothing wrong with any of the other Jackson men, but none of them made you want to take the plunge and lose your virginity. It wasn’t the lack of offers, per se. You’d gotten looks from many eligible Jackson bachelors. You had drinks with a few of them. Dinner with fewer and shared a kiss with more than one. Alright, two. But anything beyond that had you trembling in anxiety. 
It wasn’t anything precious to you, virginity. But you’d waited so long. Focused so long only on survival and then helping to build this town and now training to become a doctor. Whatever passed for doctor these days. With all your life dedicated to everything but your love life, you simply had no experience. What if you messed up and they laughed? You knew anatomy, but that didn’t translate to practical stuff. What if you couldn’t make them feel good? You’d have to see the guy all the damn time in the small town. There would be no escaping the awkwardness.
Sure it was counterintuitive to keep pushing away sexual encounters because you had no experience. But you didn’t know what else to do. You were too old already to not have done anything. But each day that passed with you rejecting perfectly nice men meant you were getting even older for your first time. 
You didn’t know where Joel fit into your need for exploring your sexuality, but it didn’t hurt to stare. God knew everyone else in Jackson did. 
So you stared. Work with his carpentry tools. Riding on horseback into Jackson after patrol. Helping with the fucking sheep. Walking around with Tommy. Carrying his nephew around town. It should be inappropriate to be fantasizing about a man when he was doing something as innocent as carrying a baby. But seeing his large hand cradling the baby’s little head made you want to scream into your pillow and kick your legs. 
“You alright, sweetheart?” 
Your heart fluttered and you let out a nervous laugh at being caught. You smoothed out the wrinkles on your clothes just to make it look like you were alright. Unfortunately you were wearing a pair of fucking jeans. You didn’t even want to know how awkward you looked. 
“‘m alright, Mister Miller.” 
“Joel’s fine,” he said, rocking his nephew in his arms.
Oh fuck, his fucking arms!
“Oh I don’t know,” you said, fidgeting with a belt loop on your jeans. “Wouldn’t want to be impolite addressing you by your first name like that.”
He smiled, recalling your conversation from the house of worship when you called him Sir and had him fucking himself in the shower to the memory. “Ah. ‘cause I’m an old man,” he said, more as a reminder to himself to fucking behave. 
“You’re not that old…” you trailed, looking him over in a way that set fire to every inch of skin that you laid eyes on.
Behave, Miller. You’re out with your nephew. 
“That so?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 
“Mhmm. You don’t look a day over seventy.” 
He snorted, making Miles stir in his arms just a little. That stung a little. It shouldn’t. Your estimation of his age, whether you were serious or not, was reminder enough that he was too old to be lusting after you.
“Thanks. I’m actually eighty-two.” 
You giggled your pretty little giggle, lowering your gaze to the ground and looking back up only when it had turned into a wide grin. “How old are you actually?”
“Old. Fifty six.” 
“Fifty-six isn’t that old…” you trailed as you brought a hand up to his bicep. Joel gulped, praying to the non-existent God that you would stop before praying to the same God that you would keep your hand right there. God answered his second prayer. You squeezed, licked your lips and looked up at him with your doe eyes.
“Checking if the hardware is still working, Doctor?” 
“I’m not a doctor yet.” 
“When do you become one then? Ain’t no Harvard handing out medical degrees in this town.”
“Howard?” you asked, squinting at him. Ah, of course you didn’t know. Harvard didn’t mean the same thing to you. Now it was just like every other building in Boston. Run over by infected. These ones were just the nerdy kind with glasses on.
“That was a thing, too. But I said Harvard. They were big universities back then.”
“Ah. Did you go there?” You asked, with no malice or bite. Oh, bless your heart. No one expected a dummy like him to have gone to university at all, much less Harvard. No one in his family had gone. Sarah was meant to be the first.
“Yeah. Traded some oxy and threw molotovs at clickers in the campus.” 
You rewarded him with a giggle and that was incentive enough for him to keep going. “Guys like me didn’t get into Harvard. Or Howard. Didn’t even go to community college. I finished high school and got a job in construction.” 
“You didn’t go to uh…construction college?” You asked, cocking your head and raising an eyebrow as though testing out the term.
“No such thing. Well, there were civil engineering programs, but I just learned on the job.” 
“Like me.” 
“Guess so. I see you reading from all those fat medical books. But there’s no need to study any books in construction. ‘cept if you wanna be an engineer or architect or something, which I’m not.” 
“Maybe you should write one. We could all do with some knowledge from before. It’s important to document it, pass it on to Ellie and little Miles over there.” 
“I ain’t writing books, sweetheart. Don’t think I even remember how to write much. I’ll just keep to fixing things up in this town. So, if you need some help with your place…I’m happy to help.” It was the least he could do. Maybe as some kind of penance for having impure thoughts about you. Or as a fucked up trade for starring in the mental images he conjured to jack off in the shower.
“There is something, actually. But I don’t have anything to trade for, so I’ll wait until I do,” you said, clasping your hands behind your back and swaying in place in an endearing manner.
“Nonsense. You patched me up just last week. You’ve done enough for the town’s health to not have to trade for anything ever again.” 
“Well, no. That’s not how it should be… It’s people’s health. Can’t put a price on that.”
“Believe it or not, health had a steep price back in the day. Cost four thousand something just to give birth. Double that if they had to cut you open.” And that was just how much it cost when Sarah was born. He was sure it had only gone up by 2003. If he hadn’t worked his ass off, there was no way he could’ve escaped debt. It helped that his Ma and his then wife’s parents helped with childcare. Would’ve been even more expensive without that.
“Damn. I don’t know how much that is, since…y’know we don’t have money now. But that sounds like a big number. It shouldn’t cost anything just to be born.” 
“Tell me about it,” he said, shaking his head. “But listen. Anything you want fixed, I’ll help out. You can give me something later if you’re worried. I know Ellie’s always on the look for new books to read and you seem to have a lot of them.” 
“Nothing Ellie would like. Not like the special limited edition of Savage Starlight or anything. Just medical textbooks and romance novels.” 
“We could trade for the lemonade from that afternoon,” he insisted, desperate to do something for you. Take care of you as you took care of everyone who walked into the clinic be it papercuts or a fucking knife in their abdomen. 
“Alright. Trade for the lemonade it is then,” you said, giving in to his pressure.
“Now tell me. What d’ya need fixed?” 
⌘⌘⌘
It had been a few days since Joel promised to fix your shower for you. Each time he came by and rang your doorbell, you hid somewhere away from your windows. When he caught sight of you in public, you quickly walked away or engaged in conversation with someone else. You didn’t need shit fixed. Everything in your house was perfectly alright. Tommy and his guys had given the place a complete makeover just a couple months before Joel and Ellie arrived. 
You were no paragon of honesty, but you didn’t make lying a habit. There were a few white lies here and there and this was meant to be one of them. It just didn’t fucking hit you that if you lied to a contractor that your shower was broken, he would eventually come over to fucking fix it. All your desperate sex starved brain wanted that day was for Joel Miller to come use his tools in your room and flex those muscles while at it.
So invested were you in that particular fantasy that as you unwound after a long shift at the clinic, it was with Joel’s beefy arms in mind. You stood in front of your mirror, taking in your reflection. One of the magazines you’d found in a box under your bed laid open on the dressing table. Playboy. Entertainment for Men. Each had a scantily clad woman on the cover. And many more inside. 
You made comparisons to yourself and the woman in the center page of the issue.
She stood in front of a dressing table too, but much different from how you stood. Her legs were on either side of her dressing table chair and her hands on the top of it. Between her arms were breasts, big and round and with smooth skin. They didn’t have any marks on them like yours. No moles, no stretch marks. Just plain. And she just stood there, soft brown hair down, tickling the top of her breasts and her lips parted as she gazed at you. No, at the men she was meant to entertain in this men’s entertainment magazine. All she had on was panties that went high up to her flat belly that connected to high transparent socks.
You reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, wishing that you had something nicer like the woman on the cover of another one of the magazines. Bright red and showing off her breasts wonderfully, but pulled down to reveal almost everything. What was the point of a bra then if it didn’t cover or support anything? Entertainment, you decided. Men seemed to be very entertained by breasts. 
Many a man had stared at yours even though you had them behind layers of fabric unlike the naked women of the magazines. Many had conversations with them instead of your face. Some brushed up against them ‘accidentally’. Joel thought he was being covert, but you felt his brown eyes rove all over them. You thought maybe that he too would brush up against it sometime, but he never did. Maybe entertainment stopped at just looking, as in the magazines. 
You wondered if Joel sought out men’s entertainment magazines like this. He was from before everything went to shit, so it was very possible that he did. Did he like the women in these pages, sticking their asses out and looking through the pages at him? Would he be entertained if he saw you like this? 
You didn’t know that if you turned your head to your bedroom door, you would have your answer. Joel’s cock strained against his already tight jeans as he stood awestruck by your figure. He swallowed as you held on to the top of the chair and lifted your knees, one after the other and placed them on the plush seat. You arched your back, a little too much at first before reducing the curve. Your ass stuck out enticingly and he didn’t know whether to grab, squeeze, slap, or spread your cheeks apart and fuck your ass. 
He should leave. 
It was stupid of him to walk into your house with a box of plumbing tools to fix your shower when you hadn’t yet given him a date or time for it. Plus you were avoiding him. Running away with your little friends and picking up stuff to hide your face from his view. He was plenty sure that when he’d rung your doorbell, you weren’t always away from home. 
He should leave. 
Fixing the shower could wait. He could confront you some other day. 
But you were putting on such a pretty little show in nothing but your panties and he was only a man. A bad one. 
His boots stayed put on your hardwood floors as you enjoyed yourself in front of the mirror. You spread your knees and let your fingers between your thighs, eyes closed, lips parted and low whines escaping your lips in just a few minutes. He palmed his growing erection over his jeans, consequences of being caught be damned. He was a foul beast already. What bad was another sin on the list? Besides, you were the one who’d left the fucking door open. 
Your soft whimpers grew into moans as you brought yourself closer and he forced his feet to stay put despite their urge to walk up to you and give you something to really moan about. 
“Fuu– mmm Joel, pleeease.”
He let out a gasp, all his restraint flying out the window as soon as he heard his name from your lips. You couldn’t actually be doing this… There had to be another Joel in town. Younger, better looking, smarter.
Your voice grew needy and the pitch higher as you kept at it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gimme it, Sir.” 
No, it couldn’t be anyone else. 
Joel toed his boots off and took quiet steps towards you, emboldened by the filth that spilled from your lips. If this old man was what you wanted, he wouldn’t stop himself from reaping the benefits. He wasn’t a goddamn saint. Never was. 
He stopped in front of you, surprised you still hadn’t sensed his presence. As though the universe heard his thoughts, it had you open your eyes. You gasped as soon as you saw him and buckled off the chair, but Joel caught you. You shuddered, unable to cope with the sudden touch. 
“J-Joel?” 
“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, touching your cheek with the back of his hand. You whined, your body molding itself against his chest. You brought a hand to his arm, feeling the rock hard muscles underneath his sleeves and your other hand worked between your legs.  
Your fingers no longer felt adequate as you felt his large fingers on your cheek. “Want you, please,” you whined, desperate to return to the edge where you had been right before you saw him. 
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me…” he spoke dangerously, soft brown eyes clouded with a kind of desire you had longed to see in him for weeks. 
“Want you…want you to be with me,” you repeated stupidly, your desperation clouding your senses too much for you to say anything else. While in the past you only wanted to get rid of your virginity, your goals had become more specific with his arrival. You wanted him. You wanted his big hands and broad shoulders, to hold on to them as you rode him. To watch his grumpy expressions turn to ecstasy under you. 
“Tell me not to touch you,” he said, his tone low and almost threatening. Any other threat from him, you would’ve heeded. But not this one. 
“Touch me!” 
It was as though something in him snapped at your words. While darkness only loomed over him before, it now completely took over.The hand that previously only caressed your cheek now wrapped itself around your neck. Before you could completely process the move, his other hand slapped yours away. He replaced two of your puny fingers with his middle finger, eliciting a strained moan from you. 
“Touching yourself to a Playboy magazine, huh?” 
You only nodded, unable to form words now that a fantasy of yours had finally come to life.
“Dirty little thing…Thought you were a nice girl and all. Helpin’ out at the clinic, head buried in books all the time. Turns out you actually got your head in dirty magazines.” 
You whined, your pussy clenching and gushing around his finger at the way he was speaking to you. The same man who insisted on calling you Ma’am despite your protests was calling you a dirty girl now. The veil of respectability seemed to have floated away at the sight of you naked and pleasuring yourself. Had you known that this was all you needed to get Joel Miller to touch you, you would’ve done it much sooner.
He added another finger, the girth of him enough to stretch you more than you had done for yourself. You brought a hand up to his shoulder and fisted his shirt, needing something to anchor yourself to. 
“You ever been taken by a man, sweetheart?” He asked, his tone too cool and casual for what he was doing to you. You shuddered, partly from his phrasing– taken, he said. Taken. Like you were a thing. Like the women in the magazines positioned so uncomfortably just so their breasts could look a certain way for the picture. Printed on the cover page with the words Entertainment for Men written on top. You shook your head, feeling small as you confessed it for the first time. 
“Any man?” 
“N-no,” you managed to breathe out, whimpering at the way the bulge beneath his jeans twitched at your simple answer. He took a step to position himself behind you, letting you lean your back against his chest. The angle at which he touched your pussy changed, opening your world up to a wonderful new kind of pleasure. 
“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me,” he whispered in your neck, making you shiver. His thumb roamed between your legs as far as they could reach, caressed you gently, his softness with you contradicting his warning about men like him. The hand around your neck slithered down your torso, cold air forcing you to face your new desire of having your breath kept hostage. 
He took your left breast in hand, squeezing the flesh like someone starved would hold on to a piece of bread. It felt more like a punctuation to the warning he issued than a part of sex. Just then, his thumb between your legs stopped its search, stopping a little above the fingers inside you.
A moan you didn’t recognize as yours at first filled the room and you buckled forward. Blunt nails sunk into the flesh of your breast as he saved you before you could fall. He hauled you back up, making you collide against his chest. 
You gasped and quickly grabbed the hand between your legs, the sensation too intense for you to know what to do with. His thumb kept on, rolling over something there that set your person on fire. 
“Fuuuck! Joel– I– I– hnnng–”
“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned, keeping at whatever the hell he was doing to make you feel this way. 
“Please… I don’t– what was that?” 
You felt his chest rumble before you heard his laughter. Heat rose to your face and your throat felt strained though there was no hand around it anymore. 
“Never touched your clit? Do you even know what that is?” He mocked, the cruelty somehow not repelling you from him. He forced you to look up at him. Your heart lurched at how close you were to his face. You could see every gray hair, every minute blemish and line.
“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man? You don’t know what you’re handing me on a silver platter. I ain’t like the other guys in town. I walked across the fucking country and lemme tell ya, there’s no pretty things like you out there. I’m starved.” 
“Take me, then,” you begged, using his own words from earlier. “Please. Whatever you– a-aaah!” 
He ramped up the pressure on that spot– your clit– and with it, took your ability to speak coherently. It was as though he’d done it on purpose. You hated it. To be so bereft of control. To be a puppet in someone’s hand. For someone to acquaint themselves with parts of you that you didn’t know of. But it was too much to fight, so you let go. Let him play with you. Take you. Like a thing.
You renounced control of your lips too, his name slipping out effortlessly like it did when he caught you. Then you renounced what was left of your dignity and began begging relentlessly. For what, you didn’t know. In his hand, you’d gone from woman to pupper, your strings pulled by a man, your voice now his. Sounds that would be indiscernible from that of a wounded animal emanated from somewhere deep within you. 
Perhaps none of this was real. Why else did your own voice grow so distant from you? Why did your vision become blurry? Your thighs shook uncontrollably and your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. Your eyes clenched shut, depriving you of your blurred vision. Your toes curled. You wanted to shrink into yourself, shrink away from all this goodness. You went higher and higher, soaring like a bird. Every nerve ending in your body felt electrified, awoken like one switch turned on every light on last winter’s Christmas tree. 
You let out a loud cry, the soaring bird in you reaching its peak before beginning its fall to the ground. You could hear your breaths again, labored but doing everything to stabilize itself. Your thighs still shook. Your chest rose and fell. A hand caressed your hand. Behind you, something strong supported your back. Kept you from falling backward. 
���Joel…” 
“I know, I know…” he whispered into your head. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, surprised to see a softer visage. He picked you up off the chair like you’d seen him lift giant logs before. With ease. You didn’t protest as he carried you. Didn’t protest when he laid you out on your bed. 
He bent down and picked something up. No questions, no instructions. He simply spread your leg away from the other. Cold air touched the gushing mess dripping out of you and you shivered, feeling a sudden need to cover yourself but unable to defy him. His hand was on your pussy again. His hardened, calloused fingers behind a soft fabric this time. He wiped upwards, collecting the mess he made out of you. When he lifted the fabric up, you realized it was your panties. 
He tucked it into the pocket of his jeans and then looked back at your face, the intensity of his gaze making you want to run. Problem was your weak legs wouldn’t take you anywhere. You didn’t screw your eyes shut. You didn’t pull your blanket to conceal yourself. You looked back at him, defiant. Like you were trying to prove something. I can handle a man like you. 
“Be a good girl from now.” 
That and a condescending pat on your pussy and he was gone.
Part 2
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konigsblog · 5 months
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older-boyfriend simon riley with a voice kink.
tw/cw; age difference/age gap, voice kink, afab!f!reader, handjob, sub!simon, alcohol consumption, simon is aged in his 40-50s. MDNI 18+
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“god, baby— don’t be a tease, little one.”
simon didn't think he'd ever be in this position. he never thought he'd be pinned down on the couch with a pretty young thing like yourself sitting on his lap, your soft fingers wrapped around his shaft, jerking him off while whispering in his ear.
your voice is seductive; each word goes straight to his hung cock, held firmly by you. you drag and rub his boner gently, forcing simon to maintain eye contact with you despite his loving eyes being half-lidded and full of lust and euphoria—the smell of alcohol reeking from simon. simon attempted to make out with you countless times, only for you to push your finger against his lip and hush him, telling him to listen carefully to every word that flows through your lips while you get him off.
god, he's so pent-up. it feels as if you're dragging his orgasm out purposefully; the playful grin on your face is noticeable and perhaps a sign that you're taunting him. your strokes are slow and calm; simon's twitching dick is leaking all over your fingers when his tip begins drooling. he can't help himself; the pleasure and sensation are addictive, and he can't get enough of the harmony and sweet, sultry sound of your voice against his ear, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine.
“can’t go much longer, sweetheart—fuck, hurts so fuckin’ bad ‘nd feels so good...”
simon heaved and growled, his meaty cock throbbing and twitching uncontrollably, pulsing at your comforting and relaxing touch. you went from praising him for being so obedient and for listening to your orders to shaming him for being in a relationship with someone half his age. he can't help himself, cumming all over your hand, your giggles leaving simon's cheeks pink and flushed, humiliated at the mess he's created.
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chaotic-mystery · 3 months
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Consider It a Favor || J.M.
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Summary: Your AC breaks in your car and the one person around to help is your neighbor, Mr.Miller. (No outbreak!Joel miller x f!reader)
Content Warnings: 18+ as always, MDNI. Age gap (Not specified but I put Sarah in college) DILF Joel mowing his lawn, reader is able-bodied and is wearing a swim suit/coverup, reader has hair Joel can pull, kissing, swearing, (1) blowjob, size kink go brrr, pet names (good girl, sweetheart, baby) facedown ass up, babey, a little manhandling, unprotected penetration (don't look at me okay, the whore in me jumped out), dirty talk, Joel hyping up his ego, pussy ownership, creampie, a little glimpse of aftercare and what really happened to your AC.
Authors Note: This is my own submission for Summer Lovin' 24! We had a blast making this and I will def do another in the future. Ali, you are an absolute beast for making all of these moodboards, thank you bby. As always, go check out everyone else's submissions, Ali's been on top of it with the masterlist so you can find them all in one place over at @pedgito🖤 (Also are we surprised I'm posting this late? No)
|| wc: 3.4k || Dividers by me || Masterlist ||
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There he was again, Mr.Miller in the front of his house mowing away at the barley grown grass with nothing but gray shorts on and his shoes, the sweat glistening in the sun over his shoulders. You knew it was wrong to look at your neighbor like this but how could you help yourself when he was so irresistible?
He didn’t have a problem with you staring either, he never told you to stop or that it made him feel weird. Having the attention of a woman made him feel good, especially when she was younger than him. It let him know he still had it in him.
“Hi Mr.Miller!” You try shouting over the roaring lawn mower but it was no use. He keeps walking up and down near the sidewalk, making sure he doesn’t miss an inch. If you didn’t get going now, you were never going to make the beach party you got invited to earlier. Making your way down the stairs of your wooden deck and sneaking glances at him every few steps to your car, you smile to yourself imagining him at the beach, laying on his stomach to tan that beautiful back.
Fading back into reality, you realize he was standing in front of you  snapping and waving his fingers to get your attention. 
“How’s it goin’ sugar? Doin’ okay in this heat?” 
“O-oh! Yeah, I’m just on my way to the beach now. Grass looks really good, can I pay you to cut my dads?” You joke and point behind you to the taller grass that didn’t look so bad before Joel cut his. 
“No, c’mon don’t start that shit. Well I’ll let you get goin’. I’m fixin’ to finish this yard anyway.” 
He waves goodbye and you stand up straight to look your best for his last glance at you, something to hopefully think about when he’s finishing his grass. Flipping over the engine as soon as you get inside, you roll the windows down to let the warm air out and you blast the AC to cool down. Something felt off though, the car was making a weird sound and the air wasn’t getting cold like it usually did. Frustrated and hot, you get back out and slam the door shut, walking in front of the hood to open it. Joel notices you get out and he turns to watch you, his brows knitting together in confusion.
“Everything okay, darlin?” He wipes his hands on his shorts as he walks over to you. 
“No, my goddamn AC won’t work right and I don’t know why but I can’t drive there without it, I would actually rather eat a jean jacket.”
He laughs and shakes his head before walking over to the driver side door, climbing in to stick his hand in front of the air vent. Feeling for himself firsthand the disgustingly warm air that was hotter than satan's asshole, Joel walks back to the hood and rests his hand along the top of it, his arm stretched up over his head. 
“I can take a look at it if you want? Probably won’t make it to the beach today but I can try like hell.”
“Are you sure? I have some cash inside the house to pay you. Hold on, let me go grab it.” You sprint towards the front door of the house and pat down the pockets of your skimpy coverup for the sound of the jingling keys. “Hey Joel, do you see my house keys in my car on the seat?”
“Let me look, sweetheart.” He opens the passenger side door and glances around on the passenger seat, not a single nickel key anywhere in sight. This was perfect, just perfect. You locked yourself out and you’re stuck outside in your swimsuit under the see through cover up you just had to wear instead of wearing normal clothes like every other person ever. 
“No! No key!” He shouts from your car and gets out, shaking his head side to side in case you didn’t hear him. 
Fuck. What were you going to do now? No one else was going to be home until later tonight, window climbing was out of the question, the back screen door had a wooden pole in the track to keep people from breaking in when you weren’t using it, there were no options but to hang out with Joel. You didn’t mind, but dressed like this? What would the neighbors think considering how nosy they are and the neighbor across the street who Joel briefly had a thing with. No one knew about that but you, thank god for late night trips to sit on the roof and smoke, right? You get to hear everything when it’s quiet.
Joel shuts the hood and gets back in the driver's seat, the door latching softly behind him. His big hand grabs the back of the passenger seat headrest as he reverses out of your driveway with the other one hand on the wheel, spinning it in such a controlled way it weirdly turns you on seeing him drive like that. He pulls into his garage and shuts off the engine before tucking the keys in the sun visor. He chuckles at the key to keychain ratio you have on the worn out carabiner, the red paint scratched all over and showing the silver metal under it.
”So, turns out I locked myself out of my house…this is just great.” You scratch your forehead in frustration and sigh. If you were just paying attention to what you were doing when you were leaving you wouldn’t have locked yourself out and you wouldn’t be out here half naked with Joel. You fling the trunk open and start to look for extra clothes, anything to put on to be a little more presentable and not have the neighbors question your entire life.
The options were slim pickings. A choice between wearing a hoodie in 100 degree weather, a safety vest you swore you needed to buy the other day, and someone’s jeans that weren’t your size at all. 
“What are you doin’ back there?” 
“Looking for something to put on because I look crazy.” 
A sigh of relief washes over you as you find all the way in the corner of the trunk, an oversized gray t-shirt you didn’t even remember owning. The band printed on the front was so faded out by now you couldn’t tell who was even on it. 
Pulling the cotton fabric over your swimsuit and shimming your cover up down your legs until you’re able to step out of it, you toss it in the trunk before you slam it shut and grab a seat next to the oscillating fan he has going. The semi cool air blows your scent right in his direction and he tries to act normal about the smell of your perfume mixed with sunscreen. He yanks the short stool over to him and the wheels wobble as it rolls fast towards him and he sits down with his flashlight in his other hand, inspecting what could be the issue. The heat was starting to get to you and your head was pounding, ringing with a sharp headache. 
“Sweetheart, come hold this light for me, would you please?” 
“Y-yeah, absolutely.” 
You stand up a little too eagerly and walk over to where he was in front of the car. Joel’s hand brushes against yours as he holds out the black flashlight, his dark brown eyes glancing up at yours as soon as your skin touches. It was something you’d never felt before. Maybe it was because he was so much older and it was wrong to feel this way about your neighbor. Maybe it was the excitement of knowing you’d be thinking about this later when you were home and by yourself, taking care of this aching feeling that was growing between your thighs. 
“Point it up just a little bit more, yeah right there. Good girl.” 
At this point he has to know what he was doing to you, the smirk on his lips was a dead give away. He saw the way your eyes widened just enough to make his breath catch in his throat, but he couldn’t act on it. Not yet, at least. He grunts and groans as he starts to move stuff and loosen nuts, the same sounds you imagine echo off his bedroom walls when he’s taking care of himself. He seems like a moaner when he’s jerking off, with such a big house and just one person living there now, there was no way he was a silent masturbater. 
A few hours passed and your hair was sticking to the nape of your neck, completely drenched in sweat. He ended up finding the problem and fixing it just like that. He must know what he’s doing because he found the problem fast…a little too fast.
“Thank you, Mr.Miller, I really appreciate it. Do you have something I can drink?” 
“Oh, shit! I’ve got lemonade inside, c’mon. Ladies first.” 
Joel stands up and lets you walk past before he’s behind you, watching your amazing ass move as you walk up the two little steps to go inside the house. His hand reaches up to the wall and presses on the white button to close the garage door. Seeing the inside of his house was new to you, you’d only seen what you could inside by the front door when you walked by. The tan walls lead you to the kitchen and he points to the white counter island. 
“Sit and wait for me right here, I’ll get ya some lemonade and we can cool off.” 
His finger points to the small barstool tucked under the counter and you straddle the leather top, your ass looking so tempting. The air blows through the vent next to your leg and you shiver slightly as it kisses your warm leg, your nipples hardening under your shirt. Joel walks over to your side and stands close, the lemonade glass clinking against the counter when he sets it down. 
“So what do I owe you?” You ask, taking a sip of lemonade.
“Nothin’ consider it a favor.” 
“Are you sure?” 
You didn’t want it to just be a favor, but if he wanted to play that game, you could too. 
“More than sure, sweetheart.” 
Joel’s waist is so close to brushing against your arm, it was killing you not to move just the slightest to feel him on you. You look up at him and roll your eyes slightly. 
“What was that for?” He asks, his brows knitting together in confusion. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The smirk grows wider on your face before you turn the stool forward but Joel’s hand comes to your neck, right underneath your hair, and he grasps firmly before he guides you to look at him once more. 
“Think you know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”
His words were breathy, as if he’s running out of time to talk and his lips crash onto yours. Joel’s mustache pokes against your lip as you kiss him deeper before pulling away, standing with your back against the counter, Joel right in front of you with his hands on his hips. 
“I um, I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Joel looks around the kitchen as if his excuse is written out on the walls for him. 
“I won’t tell anyone, I promise. You can trust me, Mr.Miller.” 
The innocent smile you flash at him causes him to chuckle and shake his head at you. Joel crosses his arms over his chest and gives a pause before responding. 
“You’re trouble, you know that? Come here.” His finger signals for you to come closer and you happily oblige. Joel’s hands squeeze your hips before his right one travels up to your neck, gripping firmly so you can’t wiggle away.
“Tell me, princess…is that what you want? You want me to bend you over the couch, touch you until you can’t take it, shove my cock in your pretty little mouth?”
Full body chills wash over you. Jesus christ, he was good. Looking at him in his eyes once more, the true nature of Joel Miller was coming out to play. The man who pretended to be an innocent, quiet neighbor, was actually just an older man who wanted to fuck you just as much, if not more than you wanted him to. A wolf in sheep's clothing.
“That’s exactly what I want. More than anything.” You grab his forearm and rub softly before following down to his hip. 
It was driving him crazy the way you were toying with the waistband of his gray shorts, the anticipation was killing him. Joel lets go of your neck and nods his head to the floor, wanting you to get on your knees in front of him. When you kneel down and sit patiently, his shorts fall right to his feet, hardened cock springing out in front of you. 
“I don’t think this is gonna fit, Joel.” 
“It’s okay, don’t worry; I’ll make it fit. Open your mouth, sweetheart.” 
Joel waits until your lips part and your tongue sticks out before smacking the tip of his cock against the wetness pooling on your tongue. His groans fill your ears like a symphony and you swear you’ve died and gone to heaven. His cock wasn’t even inside you yet and you were already so wet for him, you could feel it all over the inside of your swimsuit bottoms. You grab the base and begin sucking, taking your time so your lips run slowly over every vein, every inch of skin his cock has to offer.
The amazing work you were doing with your mouth causes him to grunt and buck his hips, ever so slightly face fucking you until he looks down with his teeth clenched from the pleasure. 
“God damn, you can take it deep. Nasty little one. Doin’ even better than I imagined.” 
The bell goes off in your head and you slowly take his cock out of your mouth and look up at him with a grin on your face. 
“You think about what it would be like to get a blowjob from me?” 
Joel scratches his beard and looks away from you so you don’t see the blush creeping on his face. 
“I do, every night. You don’t make it easier on me when I see you outside half naked because it’s so hot out, your tits spilling out of your top. You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart.” 
Now it was your turn to feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You always wondered if he noticed your outfits and he was giving you answers you never thought you’d get. You continue working your tongue from his balls all the way to the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue over the tip and getting any precum dripping out from the way you had him going. His hand runs through your hair and wraps around it, tugging everytime your tongue brushes over the sensitive spot right under the tip. 
“Get up, I can’t take this anymore. I need to fuck you, I need to feel what it’s like inside you.”
He helps you up and walks you over to the black leather couch tucked right under the big picture window in the living room, tossing you down onto the cushions and pulling your ass up into the air with your back arched. He watches as the swim fabric reveals your glossy cunt with the help of Joel pulling the bottoms down just to sit right below your ass.
“Are you ready to be a good girl for me?” Joel grabs your hips and leans over you, cupping your breasts and toying with a nipple as he grinds his cock against your ass waiting for your approval. 
“Y-yes, Joel. I want you to stretch me out. Give it all to me, please.” 
That was enough for him to push his thick cock deep inside you and for a moment your eyes rolled back into your skull. It was one thing having it down your throat but it was another when it feels like it's tearing you in two. Joel’s big hand spreads on your lower back as he drives himself deeper into you, giving you a moment of time to adjust to him before he starts thrusting. 
“Fuck you’re so tight, already squeezing around me. You like that, baby?” His hips slam into you with a rhythmed pace and he grabs your wrists, pinning them to your back while he goes faster. 
Joel’s balls pat against your ass with the speed he’s going and his grunts fall into sync with yours. The two of you start to move against each other and Joel pins your arms tighter to your back to keep himself steady. This was everything you wanted and more and the way your tummy was doing flips, you knew he was ruining you and this wasn’t just a one time thing. 
“Oh my god, Mr.Miller please, go harder, please. Spank me.” 
Joel’s ears perk up and he doesn’t let your arms fall to your side. He holds your wrists with one hand and begins to slap your ass, groaning with every connection his palm makes with your cheeks. You lose count after the fourth one and continue to moan Joel’s name, your pussy aching from the contact.
“I think you’re gonna get me addicted to this pussy, sweetheart. Gonna have to come over again so you can make yourself feel good on my cock, you like the sound of that, baby? I hope I ruin guys your age for you so you only want an older man deep inside you.”
You whine out and the building feeling in your tummy continues and Joel’s words almost push you over the edge. His hand lets go of your wrists and grasp firmly on your hips, slamming your body back against his. 
“I can feel you wanting to come. Is that right? Tell me who this pussy belongs to, sweetheart. Tell me” he growls and spanks you.
Your teeth clamp together as you try not to come yet but he makes it hard with the way he’s plowing into you. Gripping onto the cushion next to you, you try to answer but his moans catch you off guard and make you lose focus.
“C’mon, baby. Tell me who this pussy belongs to and I’ll let you come.” 
Joel spanks your ass again and it brings you enough momentum to respond.
“It’s-fuck-it’s yours Joel. This pussy is yours, all yours I swear.” 
The groan he pulls deep from his sternum is exactly what you need to send you over, dissolving into pleasure underneath Joel. He doesn’t stop thrusting inside of you as he finds it fascinating to watch you squirm and choke out broken moans of his name.
“It’s okay, I got you baby. I’ve got you.” He pants out and soon he’s following you, shooting his load of cum deep inside you. The two of you whimper soft nothings as you come down off your high and Joel catches his breath while he goes soft inside you, the living room falling quiet now. 
As you lay there in a daze with Joel getting off of you, he gives you another moment before he helps you up and fixes your swimsuit bottoms to where they should be sitting. You fix your hair to not look so crazy and turn around to look outside the window and over to your driveway, no one home yet. 
“Joel, would it be okay if I took a nap? You kinda wore my ass out.” You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder. 
“Yeah, absolutely. I won’t uh, I won’t make you sleep on the couch though. C’mon, come sleep in my bed. I’ll make us somethin’ to eat.” He kisses your forehead and walks you to his room. The blue walls and gray sheets invite you in and you’re drawn to his bed immediately. The pillows still fluffed and mangled from him sleeping earlier in the morning but you couldn’t wait to lay on them. He gets you all cozy and in his spot he sleeps and kisses you once more. 
“I’ll come get you when the food is done. Also, sorry I ruined your AC but at least I fixed it!” He says quickly and disappears down the stairs. 
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jarofstyles · 6 months
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Stacy’s Mom
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Stacy’s mom has got it goin’ on… and Harry’s definitely been noticing for a while.
We haven’t seen a lot of reverse age gap fics and figured it was our time to contribute to the cause. We hope you enjoy!
Check out our Patreon for early access and 150+ exclusive writings
Warnings- age gap, unprotected sex, teasing, creampie, soft dom!H
———————
His lip was bitten as he watched her walk across the backyard, sunglasses hiding his gaze. The back of her sundress brushed the softness of her thighs, her hair pulled up in a claw clip as she placed snacks down on the glass table for the group of friends that often frequented the pool at her house. The very house she had won in the divorce just three years ago. 
Stacy’s parents had always been generous when it came to letting their home be the epicenter of their friend groups’ hang out. It didn’t stop when they all came home from uni for the summer, everyone falling back into their routine with the hometown group, or after they’d graduated and some had stayed in town. Drunken food at the diner, pub crawls- legally this time-, the mall, the summer carnival, and movie nights and pool days at Stacy’s house. It was spacious and clean and it had only changed a little bit since the divorce. Her hotshot lawyer father paid a nice big chunk of change in alimony keeping the comfortable lifestyle afloat, one Harry was aiming to get for himself. Hopefully after he opened up a garage or two, he’d be able to grab a house like this. Make someone happy. 
The problem is, the last three summers all he could think about was someone he definitely shouldn’t be. 
It was no secret that she was incredible. Everyone loved Y/N from the start and not just because she was the ‘cool, young mom’ who didn’t make them call her by her last name. She was genuinely kind, loved to make them snacks, would pick up anyone who needed it, let them nurse their hangovers at their house and made them the greasy breakfasts they needed to get through the mornings. The woman was an angel- and she had an exterior to match. 
It seemed like in the last few years though, she had been rediscovering herself and her body. Dressing in ways she hadn’t before, ways he knew Stacy’s father wouldn’t like. Denim shorts and tank tops, sundresses, the like. Things that made Harry’s crush morph from minor to major. Y/N had become the centerfold to his wet dreams, the woman he compared other girls to, the one he closed his eyes and imagined in the shower when he was stroking off. He watched her in her kitchen while she chopped up fruit for them, her back turned and imagined approaching her from behind and placing kisses on her neck, hiking the dress up and offering her all the fun she could want. 
There was something so tempting about the older woman. Harry’d always sort of had that preference, but it had intensified as he grew up. His friends liked to prod at him about being into MILFs and he couldn’t deny it. He was. There was certainly one mother he’d love to fuck, and it was Stacy’s. In all honesty, it was half the reason he kept showing up here. 
“I hate to say it, Stace- your mom is banging.” Jeremy said what Harry was thinking but got a smack upside the head with a waterlogged pool noodle, making him yelp. 
“Do not talk about my mom like that you freak!” She hissed. “She’s a beautiful woman but none of you are going to even think about her in any way but my mother.” Her warning glare did little to deter Harry, though he merely shrugged at her to get her to think he agreed. There was no way in the world that he would ever turn away a chance to be alone with Y/N. He would beg on his knees for a chance to touch her. 
“Don’t look at me! I’m just saying it. Harry’s the one who’s the MILF Hunter.” Jacob snickered, making him raise an eyebrow. It was true and he wanted to smirk- because yes, he’d fucked a few older women before. Being a mechanic during the week and a bartender during the weekend had their perks, including women who found him to be more than a bit interesting. There had been a few instances he’d taken them up on their offers, quelling their loneliness and lack of orgasm with his own brand of fun. But none of them had ever appealed to him quite like Y/N. 
The forbidden fruit theory, maybe. He really, really shouldn’t even entertain it. A crush turned into an obsession though, he was fucked. The moment he thought he had a chance, he would be taking it. As cocky as he could be, he knew he would be able to handle her. 
“Yeah, but Harry’s not going to say stupid shit to my mom.” She huffed. 
With a smirk on his face, Harry gave a half ass nod before watching the woman of discussion shoot them a beaming smile across the yard before she turned to go back inside. Harry’s eyes ate up every curve, every drop, every inch of skin he could see before she closed the sliding glass door to the deck. 
If only she knew. 
——
Harry was sitting at home when he got a call from a number he didn’t recognize. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. People usually gave his number out to people who had car trouble, knowing he was reliable and could always use a bit of cash. It wasn’t something he minded, but he was exhausted tonight. Sitting down in his apartment, he exhaled slowly before clicking the green button to answer the phone. 
“Hello, who’s this?” He asked gruffly, his slight agitation bleeding into his tone.
“H-Hi! I’m so sorry to call you so late, but it’s Y/N. Stacy’s mum.” She said shyly. “I’m sorry to bother you Harry, but my car… it’s not starting. I was meant to go to the grocery but it’s just making this noise and-“ 
His whole body shot up straight as he got confirmation as to who it was. Was it some sort of joke? Or were the angels smiling down on him for once? Any ache in his body and heaviness in his eye disappeared as he stood up from the sofa, making his way towards the door. 
“M’on my way. It’s no trouble.” He said in a softer tone, thankful he had already showered. Maybe he’d need to do it again, but he wanted to look halfway decent for Y/N. “It’ll be about 15 for me to get over there.” 
“Oh-are you sure?” Her voice was slightly hesitant. “You sound tired and I can order groceries if I need to, I really don’t want to put you out.” 
“Promise, it’s not a big deal.” He assured her, tucking his wallet into his jeans before opening his front door. “I’d always help you with whatever you need. Didn’t mean t’’sound so grumpy, I didn’t know it was you calling.” He’d have been halfway to her house if he had known. “Give me 15 and I’ll be there.”
“As long as you’re sure.” He could tell she was doing the worried thing she usually did with her fingers touching her bottom lip. There had been a lot of silent observing on his end towards the woman and he could almost see her in his head. “I’ll make sure to make it up to you.” 
Even though there was nothing suggestive in her tone, Harry could feel his prick stiffen up at the mere thought of it meaning something more. It took the whole drive there to will it down. 
—-
Harry arrived to the house to see the garage doors open- and Stacy’s car gone. 
Was this his divine intervention? He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he knew she had to be gone. Harry was the one who did all the work on their cars, so it wasn’t in the shop. More than likely they’d be all alone. 
The summer night was cooling off a bit but there was still a decent amount of daylight left. The stickiness had subsided and it was far more comfortable than he had been at work all day in his damn coveralls. He’d sweat up a storm and cringed the moment he’d had a moment to himself, hating how hot the garage got in the summer months. His own garages would have proper AC one day. 
He was thankful for the heat though when he saw Y/N come out from the garage, her lavender dress obviously a swimsuit cover up. The straps of a bikini were underneath it, the halter top of the dress tied behind her neck. It was shorter than her normal dresses making Harry peer up at the sky and ask anyone who was up there to lend him some strength in order to not pop a stiffy in front of her- at least not yet. 
“You really didn’t have to come out so quickly. I didn’t think before calling you.” Y/N crossed her arms as she walked towards the younger man who was fishing his toolbox out of the back of his pickup truck. She couldn’t help but admire how much of a man he’d truly become. Tattooed now, shown off by his black tank top. Hair a bit unruly and curled. Stubble on his upper lip and jaw. He was a man now, not a hint of boy in the slightest, and it was a little intimidating. She remembered him when he was far more lanky, 19 and shy. Now he was 23, with larger arms and broadened shoulders, a pretty set of lips and a husky voice. Things she shouldn’t have been paying attention to. 
There had been a bit of tension between them somehow, tension she hadn’t been able to pinpoint where it had begun. The one thing she did know is that he was an observer. His eyes were watching her when she came out and he kept eye contact as they spoke, like he was giving her every bit of attention he had when she was talking. Maybe it was the heart sickness she felt but it was so nice to feel listened to, appreciated. Harry always helped clean up, always told her daughter to be respectful to her mum, always asked her how her day was. He was a complete gentleman every time he came over and she had to wonder how much of a problem it was for her to sort of wish for that attention all the time. 
Ever since she had found out Patrick had been cheating on her, she’d felt a bit used. Dirty. Of course marrying a man 10 years her senior who was a hotshot lawyer had probably been her first sign something would go wrong, but he used to dote on her. That was until she began to age. It wasn’t like she was old- she could probably still have a kid if she wanted! But she’d gotten pregnant at 17 and Patrick had been quick to marry her on her 18th birthday. A problematic union at best, but she’d tried to be happy. She was provided for and had a beautiful home and daughter, one so smart she was able to skip around in school! But… she’d never felt truly loved. Not that toe curling, soft eyed, tummy turning love that she’d always imagined. 
Not even the passion she wanted. All she wanted at this point was for someone to want her. To make a move, to show her she was sexy and prove that her newfound revelations were true. 
The last three years had been tearing herself down to build back up. There was some part of her that felt 22 again, wanting to live the life she hadn’t been able to as a young mum. But that didn’t mean she had to look at Harry the way her brain was trying to. 
“Stacy is at a concert a few hours away otherwise I would have just asked her to borrow her car.” Having him here now made her feel all the more ridiculous for calling him over for such a stupid reason. Tomorrow would have at least been during normal work hours.
“Y/N.” Harry’s hand rested on her shoulder, making her breath catch quietly. “S’fine. I’m more than happy to help you. Alright?” His thumb rubbed over the cuff of her shoulder before he gently lifted his hand away, carrying his toolbox further into the garage. 
She felt a bit buzzed, as pathetic as it was. It had been so long since a man had touched her, let alone a younger, attractive one. It made her feel like her brain had fogged up. 
“Keys in the ignition?” He murmured. “Want t’see what we’re working with.” 
It was enough to shake her out of her fog, nodding a bit too eagerly as he gave her a soft smile, sitting himself in the driver’s seat. She leaned against the garage door as she watched him turn it over a few times to no avail, making her worry her bottom lip between her teeth. She had no idea about anything car related and luckily it had all been minor stuff until now. Her ex had the cars serviced every few months and she had been dropping the ball. What if it was bad? What if she needed a new engine and Harry thought she was an awful car owner? What if-
Her train of thought was snapped out of it as he let out a chuckle, standing up from the seat. “I know what it is. Isn’t a big problem at all.” He walked over to his toolbox. “Battery is dead. You may have accidentally left the key in, or a door open, maybe a light on. Not a big deal. I’ll just give it a jump.” 
While he didn’t seem annoyed about it at all, Y/N felt very, very dumb. How could she have not known that’s what it was? Something so easy to fix. Her cheeks burned as she cringed, feeling the guilt well up in her body for making him come out when she could have just asked a neighbor for a jump. 
It took him just a few tries with her following his instruction to turn the car on when she said so in order for her car to turn on as if nothing had happened. It was slightly humiliating.
“Oh, god… Harry, I’m so sorry.” She groaned. “I’m not… I’m not good with cars and I thought the engine was dead or something big happened to it. I made you leave your house for no reason. I can’t begin to say how awful I feel.” It felt even more embarrassing because it was such a quick fix and he was an expert in cars. She probably seemed like a bobble head. 
“Woah- S’okay.” He closed the hood of her car and detached the jumper cables. “It’s actually a good thing. I’d rather it be a quick fix than something that would cost you thousands. That’s the ideal. No one is an expert in cars right away and m’sure that the whole thing was probably be a bit troubling if it’s the first time it’s happened to you.” His voice tried to soothe her worries away. The man truly looked unbothered by it all, happy to help- but still. 
“Well… if you’re sure.” It still felt hot around her cheeks as she made her way towards the door leading to the kitchen. “Come inside, I’ll get you something for helping me.” 
Harry let out a sigh as she waited at the door for him, tucking his toolbox and cables back into his car before following her inside. A mixture of giddiness and nerves rocked through his system as she led him towards the kitchen where her handbag was. Alone with her at last- and with a good excuse. No one would question him coming over to help with the car. Surely, Stacy had given her his number. He had every right to be here. 
So why couldn’t he extend his stay? 
“How much do I owe you?” Her hair fell in her face as she looked down into her bag, fishing around for her wallet. It was always a bit of a mess with receipts she needed to toss, makeup she needed to put away, a first aid kit she’d only really ever needed once- all the things making it more difficult to find her wallet. So difficult that she didn’t notice how close he got until his warm, slightly calloused hand closed over hers, gently pulling it out of the bag. 
Her heart stuttered as she raised her head to look at him. Tanned skin from being out in the sun, a few freckles here and there. A birthmark near his mouth she’d never noticed. He had more scruff than the last time she had seen him too, making her mouth dry a bit as she blinked up at the man, her hand suddenly feeling much smaller in his own. He was a bit too close but there was no desire in the slightest to pull back.
“You know me a bit better than t’think that I’d charge you for a jump.” His voice was low, soft. A volume it didn’t need to be for it being just the two of them. He also didn’t need to be this close to her, close enough to smell a warm, woodsy soap on him and mint from the gum he was usually chewing. Her body felt hot under where he touched her, heartbeat quickening at his unforgiving eye contact. 
“B-but you came all the way out here.” She whispered back. It wasn’t necessary to talk that low but it was following his tone, the tension palpable in the room. “I’d feel awful for making you come for nothing. I really should pay you.” His stare was intimidating but also… a bit addicting. He didn’t look away from her- no, his eyes looked over her face. Maybe she had imagined the lingering at her lips, but part of her hoped she didn’t. 
“Have you had dinner yet?” His question made her slightly confused, not the response she had been expecting. 
“No, why? Did you want me to cook for you?” That made her perk up a bit. She had to do something to repay him. It wouldn’t be right not to. 
“No. I want t’cook for you.” His words were matter of fact. There was no way she didn’t believe his desire to do so, considering he looked so sure of himself. It just was a bit confusing. Her brows furrowed, head tilting a little as she turned more towards him- all too aware he hadn’t dropped her hand from his grip yet- giving him that questioning look. “You have the ingredients for chicken teriyaki? Rice?” When she nodded, his eyes glanced over to the pineapple in her fruit bowl. “Saw a recipe on how t’make it in a pineapple bowl. Was going to do it this weekend but I’d like to make it here. A bit more room in this kitchen and… it’d be nice to eat with someone.” He wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d like to eat with her. “May I?”
“I- I mean of course you can, but it doesn’t… how is it payment for you? For you to be the one to cook me dinner?” It was a bit hard for her to understand. She was the one who did the cooking for everyone else and it sounded like he was doing her yet another favor. 
“Because you’re fun to be around, nice to talk to, I won’t have t’shop for the ingredients, and m’starving.” It was self explanatory to him. He wanted to get away with spending as much time with her as possible. Especially when she seemed to be so shocked at the idea of someone being nice to her without the thought of repayment. It sort of pissed him off. “Just sit and talk to me while I cook. It’ll be nice to hear you without people interjecting.” 
Y/N hadn’t realized he had noticed that. His back was already turned, going through her fridge to get the chicken out along with some of the ingredients for the sauce but her brain was still on that. Had his shoulders always been that broad? Harry had always been quiet and observant. The nice guy, sweet and thoughtful but he didn’t seem to take any of the friend groups shit. Stacy was the youngest out of them all and he’d always been thoughtful about her. Protective over her feelings- to the point Y/N had assumed Harry had a bit of a crush on her at first. That proved to be false when she’d heard about Harry being set up with one of the mothers of the kid’s Stacy taught swim lessons to. 
One of her faults was indeed being nosy, and she’d listened in on her daughter when she dropped off lunch to the pool talking to said mother. She was definitely younger than herself with a much younger child but she apparently had one good night with Harry before he politely decided not to see her again. 
She wasn’t dumb. Y/N heard their teasing of Harry liking older women… and perhaps that’s why he made her a tad bit nervous. It wasn’t like he’d ever made a move, but he had a sensual air around him. He’d been gentle with her today, but never inappropriate. Was it bad to wish he would?
The answer was a resounding yes, it was not at all something she should ever want- but that didn’t mean that’s what her brain was thinking. 
She pulled out a pineapple wine she’d gotten as a gift, never a more appropriate time. A glass was poured for each of them as Harry went about the motions, preparing and chopping and starting the rice. Maybe adding alcohol into the mix wasn’t the smartest idea, but she needed something to take the nervous edge off.
“Is it lonely in a big house like this?” Harry asked as he dropped the chicken into the pan. “When Stace is gone, does it feel a little daunting?” 
“Sometimes.” She pursed her lips. “It’s been my house for a while now so I’m used to all the noises and I know all the neighbors. You can hear the kids playing outside, lawnmowers, or people getting home from work.‘At night it can be… it can be a bit unnerving. Cold. But Patrick was gone a lot of nights at the office, so it’s nothing I’m not used to.” A bitter scoff left her as she took a sip of wine before shaking her head, face falling. “Sorry. I know that’s the last thing you want to hear about.” 
“No.” He said simply. “I’d like to. I don’t mind.” His tongue ran over his bottom lip before he met her eyes, placing his wine glass on the counter. “Everyone needs someone to vent to sometimes, Y/N. Know m’younger than you and all but I’m not clueless when it comes to relationships.” A gentle smile softened the blow of the words. “Tell me about it if you want. You don’t have to censor yourself. Not around me. It’s just us.” 
There was a burn in her belly at the last few words. It felt… really fucking nice to be told that. That he wanted to earnestly hear her talk. He was an incredible listener, she found. It made her wonder how much of what she said in the past he had really heard. 
“Uh… well…” twirling the glass in her hand, her fingers tightened around the stem as she had to break eye contact with him. It was making her feel a little light headed. “He was cheating, as I’m sure you know. Stacy didn’t take it well. She’d cut up all his ties by the time I found her.” Her smile quirked on her lips. Her daughter had a thirst for revenge. “It was worse when I found out it wasn’t just one person but multiple women. All at his job. It’s why he moved firms.” Her lips tightened as she looked towards the sliding glass door that was open to let the air in, the sun having started to set just a bit ago. A golden glow ran over the kitchen and she had a hard time not staring at the man in front of her. 
“I… I’m not sure how much you know of myself and Patrick, but we were in a relationship when I turned 17. He was 27. I thought it was very impressive and I was so mature for my age that he chose me, but it wasn’t. It was wrong. And when I got pregnant, we had to hide it until I turned 18 and he could marry me. His parents were lovely grandparents to Stacy but awful parents to him in the way they enabled his behavior. So for a long time I just thought it was a big star crossed love story when in reality, he stole my youth from me. I don’t ever regret my daughter- don’t get me wrong.” Her look was desperate for him to believe her, but he didn’t seem to have any judgment on his face. It was a breath of fresh air considering people usually gave her pitying looks this far along. 
“I love her and I wouldn’t change it. Everything happens for a reason but… I’m just a bit bitter now. My best years spent on him and he’s fucking other women because I’m ’showing my age’ and I’m essentially aged out.” Her face curled in disgust. “I work hard on my body! I keep up with my appearance! You know? I’m not lazy. I didn’t let myself go which- even if I did, that’s no fucking excuse for cheating. Marriage was supposed to be for love, for better or for worse. At least that's what I naively thought.” It had been so long since she had someone to talk to, someone who didn’t seem to fucking judge her or try and tell her it was okay. Harry merely nodded, keeping his eyes trained on her face as she got it out. 
“It should be what marriage is for.” He replied in a bit of a lull. “I mean, I’ve never been married but… S’a simple enough concept to understand. I don’t think you were naive in thinking that. He was just a dick for taking advantage of you.” Harry didn’t like Patrick much from the start. He’d been a show off, obviously trying to compensate for something. He’d sort of steamrolled over things Y/N used to say, and even though he’d only seen them married for a few times he came over. It was a good thing they divorced in his humble opinion, and not just because he was a bit obsessed with the woman standing in front of him. She seemed to grow from it, her confidence rising tenfold.  He’d been holding her back. “I don’t think there’s much wrong with an age gap… as long as the parties are both of legal age.” He chopped the pineapple in half, making sure to make it even. “So, m’sorry you had to go through that. Stacy is great, but I wish you didn’t have to feel that way. It’s shit.” 
Y/N felt a bit validated with his words. Maybe it was the wine, but she had a feeling it was just his presence that had her relaxing. He was right on all counts, but it was a little hard to accept at times after being manipulated her whole adult life. Someone was agreeing with her that weren’t her own parents. “Thank you.” She whispered. “I’m glad at least you think so. People kept telling me that marriages have bumps in the road and I was being a bit rash, filing for divorce so quickly after I found out but… Cheating is just not something I can stomach. I think they were thinking about his money, his reputation. Cared more about how he would be seen than if I was happy. I had to do a lot of cleaning up after the divorce. Friends I had for years chose his side and… yeah. I’ve been a little lonely.” A sad laugh left her before she cleared her throat. The man probably didn’t want to hear about that. “But luckily I’ve found more fulfilling things. It’s nice when you guys come around.” Her smile grew genuinely. “I’ve always liked taking care of people. That was one perk of being in the situation I was. Being a mum was great. It’s a bit jarring now though, with her out of the house the majority of the time. So, in the long roundabout answer to your first question- yes, the big house is a bit daunting sometimes.” 
Y/N had rambled and babbled. Harry had been happy to listen, attentive even while cooking. She knew she may be embarrassed later about spilling her fucking guts out to him when he had only come over to fix her not so broken car and decided he wanted to make her dinner, but it was so fucking refreshing to have someone in her kitchen with her. 
It was embarrassing how much she missed male attention. She’d wanted to clench her thighs together when he grabbed her shoulder earlier and it was pathetic, but it was hard not to notice how wonderful Harry was. He was hardworking, intelligent, sweet, charitable, understanding and stupidly fucking handsome. He could cook too, apparently. Something her ex husband could never even attempt. 
“Thank you for sharin’ all that with me.” His voice was even and smooth as he gave her a gentle smile. “I, for one, am glad you divorced him. I think you’re incredible. You don’t deserve someone who’ll step out on you. Let out multiple times.” It truly did piss him off. The man had a woman who was willing to give the world and still managed to be greedy for other women and fucked it up. “I’ve never really understood that sort of thing but, I think you’re too good for him anyways. Know you said you feel like you wasted your youth and by the risk of sounding a bit cliche, age is just a number in this instance. You can do anything you want now that you think you would have wanted to do back then. And..” He smirked slightly. “You look like you could still be in your twenties. So I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Him acting like aging is a sin in any situation is fucking dumb considering it’s something unavoidable and sorta beautiful if you ask me. Older, wiser, more experience. It’s a good thing. To me, at least.” 
Y/N did know of his taste for older women and though she had no intention of bringing it up, she seemingly couldn’t keep her mouth shut tonight. Without permission from her mouth, the words fell out like a tumble. “Is that why you go for older women?”
The room fell silent for a minute and she could feel the return of the heat under her cheeks, eyes widening as she snapped her hand over her mouth. It wasn’t something she wanted him to know that she knew, but too fucking late now. His head tilted back up, eyes falling on her own wide ones before he let out a laugh. A reaction she hadn’t expected in the slightest. Her hand fell in a motion to try and apologize but he lifted his own to stop her, calming from the laughter as he shook his head. 
“Fuck, M’sorry. I didn’t mean t’laugh, but you looked like you scared the shit out of yourself.” He giggled, running his fingers over the corners of his mouth as they curled into a smirk. “It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize. We’re both adults here.” A clear definition that he was definitely seeing himself on her level. “It’s okay t’ask me about, love. I’m fine talking about it. You just told me details about your divorce so this seems a little tame in comparison.”
As much as she hated herself for it, her stomach flipped at the term of endearment. Harry and her hadn’t spent much time alone before but he had never called her that before. Maybe it was a bit of a bond forming being alone with him. He’d always been a bit ahead of the others in terms of maturity. Not in a creepy way like Patrick used to say about her, but in a genuine hard working way. He’d taken his jobs, career, and promises seriously. It was hard not to know how reliable he was when people constantly used that word to describe him. Seeing him as more of an equal instead of his daughter’s friend was easy when they weren’t around. There was that old soul type of thing she liked.
“I obviously did not mean for that to come out of my mouth. But uh-” She ran a hand over her dress to self-soothe. “I heard them teasing about you and one of the mum’s of the kids Stacy teaches had been bragging about…” The woman didn’t need to finish her stance before Harry laughed through his nose, trying to hide his smirk. 
“Ah.” He nodded, turning the heat off on the stove and pouring the sauce onto the chicken. “Yeah. I do, I’ve always preferred older women. I get teased for it but it’s just what I’m attracted to.” There was that thought in his mind though, wondering what the woman had been bragging about. He’d sure as hell fucked her well and thoroughly, but at the end of it he had opened his eyes and it wasn’t Y/N. It’s his common problem these days. Falling out of interest when he realized he was chasing a feeling from people that weren’t the object of his affections. “I went out with her once… went back to her place.” He shrugged. “It was alright. I was pretty up front about not being sure we clicked but she wanted me to come in, so…” He shrugged. The girl didn’t seem to have hard feelings when she texted him a few days later asking for a repeat and he declined because he was going to be here for a get together. 
“Can I ask why?” Morbid curiosity, that’s what she would call it. It was killing her since she had found out though. Why does a young man, almost in his prime, go for older women specifically? Not that she didn’t think they weren’t worth that, but it wasn’t the norm. “If it’s not too personal.”
“You can get personal with me, Y/N. I don’t mind.” He clarified, dishing some rice into the pineapple bowls he’d carved out. “I think there’s a few aspects to it but I appreciate maturity. One of my first experiences was with someone a few years older than me and it kept going from there. I enjoy intelligent conversation. Someone who can keep up and not just talk about the things girls my age talk about. Nothing wrong with them at all, but every time I’ve tried dating someone my age it’s fallen flat. I enjoy dates at nice restaurants or at home. Cooking for them, listening to music. I work a lot, I’m not much for clubs. Even pub crawls have been a lot for me at times considering I work at a bar on the weekends, work all day in a garage. People my age don’t usually seem to understand or appreciate my work ethic but.. I want a house like this one day.” He motioned around the kitchen. “I’ve been saving loads of money, staying in my apartment and making sure I don’t spend crazily. I’ve always been a bit of a romantic, so I want t’provide for someone one day. Maybe that’s a little old fashioned but It’s fulfilling to me. Want to open my own garage, maybe multiple and… I dunno, older women have always been more receptive to my plans, to the way I am. And I’m not a huge texter. I like phone calls, seeing someone in person. Dating my age is a lot of that.”
It wasn’t a shock to her that his ethics would be a turn off for younger women who sometimes got a bit in their head about the attention they needed. It wasn’t a drag or anything of that nature, but a lot of younger women relied on that sort of thing. Texting all day that he obviously wouldn’t be able to do. They deserved the relationships they wanted but so did Harry. It was a surprisingly nice answer from him. He had lots of decent reasons that made her feel a little more intrigued than she should be, but she couldn’t help it. The man was alluring. 
“And… permission to overshare a little bit?” He asked, wanting to test the waters. Y/N looked intrigued, nodding as she leaned on the counter. “Older women tend to be a bit more.. Compatible with me sexually. A bit more eager. Some are experienced but it isn’t really about that, it’s about knowing what you want. Being a little less shy in asking for what they want. Everyone’s different of course, but I find that a disappointing amount of men aren’t giving women what they want, and I’ve been happy to provide that. I’m a giver, it’s what I like. So…” His pink tongue ran over his bottom lip as he kept eye contact with her. “There’s that aspect of it too.” 
Y/N could feel the slight throb between her legs as he spoke. There was no hint of shyness in his face as he spoke to her, just matter of fact. He had no shame, if anything he seemed.. A little smug. Something that oddly made her stomach flip and flutter  as he pushed her plate towards her and settled on the opposite side of the island, sitting on the stool. 
“I.. I can see that.” She murmured, knowing she must look a little flustered. Considering it had been years since she’d had sex, just the way he was looking at her was working her up a bit further than she would ever want to admit. “I think..” If he was oversharing, maybe she should too. Or maybe that was the slight buzz the wine had provided. “I’m still trying to learn what it is I want. I was only with one person my whole life and then… After the divorce I had a one night stand and it was not at all satisfying. I’ve meant to try and go on dates more often but the few I’ve been on just didn’t feel right.” It wasn’t something she talked about often at all. She had her two girlfriends she talked to about sex- or lack thereof- and the toys they got in order to satisfy what their dates couldn’t. 
This little tidbit had Harry leaning in a bit closer, chewing the first bite of his food. It was surprisingly good for a recipe he’d found on a social media site, but he was far more interested in what Y/N had to say. “I mean it’s only natural, isn’t it? To be curious?” He waved his fork in the air. “Was he satisfying you in your marriage?” The look on her face was all he needed to see for an answer. Her lips pulled in and her gaze averted, he did feel a seedling of pity for the woman- but hope for himself. One man’s loss was another’s gain, wasn’t it? He would be able to actually pleasure her. He knew he could. He hadn’t failed yet, and there were genuine feelings there for her so… he had a lot of faith he’d be willing and able to please her. Half of the battle was just listening to her. Knowing what she wanted. “It’s okay, I can tell what your answer is. But m’sorry to hear that.” He frowned. “You deserved better than all of that. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, but you deserved a hell of a lot more for what he put you through.” Personally, Harry would never drop the ball like that. 
Realistically, Y/N was his dream woman and this was without knowing what she liked in bed. Everything about her was perfect to him, all except the pesky fact that she was the mother of one of his friends- but honestly? He was willing to risk it. She was worth that sort of risk. She had the demeanor, the charm, the intelligence, and so far, the sort of lifepath that aligned with him. He had to talk his way into it a little bit more than likely, but he was ready to try. 
“Thank you, Harry.” Y/N knew she probably looked a little flustered. She was. He was saying all the right things and she felt a weird level of comfort with him that she hadn’t experienced before. He was a man. Maybe he was younger than her, but he had a level head. He could cook. He worked multiple job, had ambitions, he knew what he wanted and he wanted to be a provider. Something that she found to be overwhelmingly sexy. She was noticing him in less than appropriate ways more and more. Like how cut his jaw was as he chewed his food, the scruff on his face, his strong, big hands. So fucking big, making the fork he held look small. His arms were built, flexing as he leaned against the countertop. The memory of his broad shoulders wasn’t too far from her brain either. “You’re… I haven’t spoken to a lot of people about that stuff. I don’t mean to take up too much of your time tonight, I know you must be tired after work but… I really appreciate you coming here, fixing my car, cooking. Talking to me. You’re great company.” 
“Like I said earlier, I like being around you.” It felt like he could see into her soul. Green peering inside of her, spreading her open. “If m’being honest, there aren’t many other places I’d rather be. M’happy to help you with whatever you need.” 
If Y/N was crazy, she’d think it was a double meaning. She’d overthink and imagine that he was implying something not so appropriate. Things that had her tummy flipping and cunt weeping. Pathetic, she knew that. Here she was, lusting after the younger man as he stared at her from across her kitchen. The sun had now set and the darkness was beginning to set in, and she wanted more than anything to take his hand and drag him upstairs to her bedroom but she had to clear her brain before she did something rash. “I enjoy spending time with you too.” Her smile was soft as she took her plate and brought it to the sink. “Just let me clean these dishes and then I’ll walk you to your car. You’ve been such a help tonight.” 
Y/N felt a little shaky as she turned the water on and let it run over the dirty pan and the other dishes she hadn’t quite gotten to. As much as washing dishes was something people usually hated, the girl found it a little therapeutic. She’d just gotten into it, relaxing just a bit when she felt a hand curl around her hip, a cleared plate set into the sink and the other hand shutting the water off on her. “What-”
“I think we’re dancing around it now, Sweetheart.” He said lowly, cuffing his other hand on her waist. Her body stilled as he pressed himself into her, his confidence high as he watched her shaky hand drop the sponge. “I think there’s something we both want and you don’t know how to ask for. And that’s okay.” His nose brushed the shell of her ear as she closed her eyes, swallowing thickly. “I know that you haven't been taken care of. I know you weren’t satisfied in the ways you deserved. I meant it when I said that there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Y’know that, right?”
“Harry, what are you doing?” Her voice was breathy as she clenched her over the counter but making no move to leave his grip. 
“I’ve been after you for a while, Y/N. I think you pretend to not notice how I look at you. I think… you were a little jealous when you found out I took that mum from the swim group out and fucked her, because you wanted it to be you. But let me assure you… I wanted it to be you, too.” His heat spread along her back as his fingers moved to splay over her tummy, the same tummy that was a mess of butterflies just under his fingertips. 
“You did?” While she should have been shutting this down considering this man was friends with her daughter… she couldn’t. Not when he was making her feel more listened to, more desired, more aroused than she had been since… well, possibly her whole life. 
“Of course, love. To be honest, I was tryin’ to give you time to adjust. To be single, to find more of yourself. You’ve blossomed so much since I’ve known you. I knew you’d probably want t’reject me because of how you know me, but I just need a chance to prove to you that I can be what you need.” The chills on her skin were unavoidable as his lips smeared over her neck, groaning quietly as he inhaled. “You smell so fucking good, y’know that? Makes me crazy. No one else smells like you… I knew touching you would ruin me.” He pulled her further into him, laying the first kiss on the hinge of her jaw. “I’d be fucked. But I’ve been fucked for a while now. No distraction took away from the fact that any body under mine wasn’t you. Wasn’t the voice I wanted saying my name. I just want to show you that m’worth the risk.” 
The low baritone of his voice was making her want to whimper. Soft, hot lips pressed a trail of gentle kisses down her throat that got progressively more wet, making her cunt follow. Leaning back into him, it was hard to fight when her body felt like it needed him. His hand pressing on her stomach, pushing her all the way back until she felt him. Her gasp was wet, a chuckle vibrated against her throat as he ground himself against her ass.
“I’d fill you up. Make you feel it all the way in here.” The pressure on her stomach suddenly made a flash of heat boil in her belly, imagining it. Craving it. It always felt like something was missing during sex anyways. “I know you need it. You need someone to worship you, to make you understand just how irresistible you are. I’ve been dying to do that for you. Makes me so fucking angry t’know the people who’ve had you haven’t pleasured you, made you unsatisfied while I was dreaming about just a fucking lick of you. Just a squeeze.” Her hand fell on top of his own, breathing a bit more labored as the length of him against her ass taunted her further. 
“You were?” The woman knew she probably sounded a bit wrecked but she was. Harry was making her needy, desperation filling her chest in a way that almost overwhelmed her. She was hungry for more, more of his touch, his lips, his confessions. 
“Mhm. Had t’get my fill in those little touches you’d give me. Running you hand over my back, brushing past me in the kitchen, grabbing my hand. I’ve been wanting to hold you like this. Kiss you until you can't breathe. Make you cum on my fingers, my tongue, my cock, make you melt just for me. S’that something you’d want, baby?” His teeth grazed her jaw getting a little whimper from her throat. “Hm? I’d like some words from you. I don’t mind doin’ most of the talking, but don’t leave me hanging.” 
“I would- yeah. I would like that.” She was indeed panting. If she was a different woman she’d probably be ashamed over how much she was actually gagging for it, but there was something that made her truly believe that Harry could back up every single claim he said. “I haven’t been touched in so long but… you’ve made me feel so good already.” The admission made him smile against her skin, she could feel it. “Is this- do you just want sex?” 
“No.” Her neck felt cold as he pulled away, manhandling her a bit and making her enjoy it far too much as she was turned and reversed in position to be facing him now. Her chin was grabbed between his fingers and his now dark eyes pinned her own. “S’not just a fuck to me. I like you, Y/N. Know it’ll be a little complicated considering the situation but to put it bluntly, I don’t give a fuck.” There was no room left for doubt with his words. “I want you. I’ve wanted you for fucking years, and unless you don’t want me, there’s nothing and no one else that’s gonna keep me from getting what I want.” When she failed to reply, he coaxed it from her. “C’mon, baby. Words.” 
“I-I want that. I just didn’t know it was so serious for you.” She felt her cheeks flush at the intensity of it all. “It’s a good thing though… You’re making me a little dizzy.”
“Yeah?” He crooned. “A little dizzy? So fucking cute. I intend to do more than that, though.” Without another word, he took her mouth. Took it like he owned it, kissed her like it was already his. 
Y/N melted into it immediately. Fell into the kiss and clutched his shirt to pull him closer as he made her brain empty of any thoughts but ones pertaining to him. How big his hands were, how easily he moved her around, how soft his lips were, how he tasted, the slight smell of motor oil underlying the fresh, clean smell that followed him over here. It was pathetic, maybe, to completely resign herself, to hand herself over to the younger man but… could anyone blame her?
Yes, he was younger. But he kissed like he had been hand plucked to be attached to her lips. His tongue brushed into her mouth and she moaned out loud, allowing him to kiss her any way he wanted. Y/N was touch starved and she knew it, but there was something electric about the way he held her. The way he kissed like he was starving, like he couldn’t get enough of her. His hand slipped down her back and greedily palmed her ass, squeezing it tight enough to make her whimper. It had been so fucking long since someone touched her like they knew what they were doing, like they knew what to do to make her feel good. Harry acted like she belonged to him already, pulling her leg up over his waist as he pressed her into the counter. “Hop up.” he whispered against her lips, using his hands to cuff her waist and tug her right up on the countertop. 
Immediately her legs were spread and his body was between them. While he was somewhat lean, he was broad. His arms were big, his hands were too. She had to spread a bit and let her dress ride up as he manhandled her, yanking her back so she was right up against him. The sweetest whimper left her lips and translated to his, making him pull back to look down at her. Her smeared lip gloss and wide, glossy eyes looking up at him. Hair a little messy when it was usually styled, she looked… alive. The way he wanted her to feel with him. “M’gonna spread you open and get a taste, because I’ve been fucking dying for it for years.” He told her bluntly. “But just a taste. I’ll spend hours between these perfect damn thighs tonight… but I need to be inside of you.” He felt like he toed the line between unhinged and the most control he ever had. The man knew what he wanted, he told her what she was going to get, and yet he felt like he had never been more passionate about something in his life. Finally getting the chance to be with the woman he wanted was something that he had been counting down the days for. Nothing could stop him from doing this. 
“Yes, please. I want you… I want you to take over.” She swallowed. It wasn’t always this way. Sometimes Y/N enjoyed the idea of being on top, enjoyed teasing, enjoyed the thought of being in charge for a little bit- but never in her life had she wanted a man to just do whatever the fuck he wanted. It was because she knew he would know how to please her. 
That assumption wasn’t wrong. 
Seeing the man get on his knees in front of the counter, ordering her to take the dress off and toss it to the side to expose her plain cotton bra and underwear, maybe she should feel a little apprehensive- but the only thing she felt was needy. Desperate. Wanted. The look in his eye told her that he wanted her and he wanted her more desperately than she even knew. His lips kissed over her knees and upper thighs, obviously pacing himself as his fingers tugged the waistband of her panties and slowly peeled them off her body. 
Harry wished he spent a bit more time admiring her. He wished he had the self control at this point to not just pull her to the edge of the counter and take a thick lick over her glistening cunt and nuzzle his face into it regardless of the fact he was getting wet- but he didn’t. He pulled her up and onto his tongue, getting the delicious little gasp he had been dying to hear. Manicured nails gripped the countertop behind her and buried in his hair, wet gasps leaving her mouth. Garbles of his name and calling to god, but he was busy. Getting her flavor on every inch of his taste buds and committing it to memory, dipping his tongue into her entrance and lapping up to her clit where he sucked lightly, he was self serving. This was for him and she was reaping the benefits. 
“Oh my f-fucking god.” Y/N said in disbelief, watching green meet her eyes as his nose nudged her clit. “Oh, you’re so fucking good, Harry. Holy fuck.” It was hard to comprehend that this man was on his knees for her when just a few nights ago he had been helping her set out snacks for their friend group as they had a hang out at the pool. Seeing him as the man he was, she couldn’t believe she’d never seen him in this light- not seriously. He had completely blown her expectations out of the water as his tongue flicked over her entrance, pressing against it and making her curse repeatedly. 
The sound of a belt clanking on the floor was mostly ignored- but his fingers inside of her weren’t. In fact, she teared up slightly at the feeling. “Yes, fucking… finger me, feel me.” She growled, her thighs pressing him closer. He had no problems, humming against her as he played with her clit and opened her up with his fingers- surely for her benefit considering he had felt quite impressive against her ass. “Shit, I can’t believe this.” The laugh was quickly melded into a moan as he pulled her clit back into his mouth and added a second finger. 
Harry shook his head into her cunt. He felt her clench around his fingers and the sounds of pleasure above him, and he didn't want to stop but if he didn’t, he was positive he was going to blow his load all over the kitchen floor. There was no bothering to wipe his chin as he stood back up, gripping her face for another deep kiss. “M’obsessed. Tastes even better than I expected… You’re never going to get me away from it.” He wasn’t even joking. He would gladly call off his shift from the bar tomorrow if it meant getting to spend that time tasting her. “But I need to get inside of you. I need to make you cum around my cock.” He went to get his wallet from his pocket but was surprised when she stopped him. 
“I’m clean. I’ve- I’ve been tested and I’m on birth control-” Harr interrupted her with a loud groan, fisting his cock in his hand as his pants fell to his ankles. 
“Thank fuck.” He laughed. “This may be over quickly, but this isn’t the last time I’m in you. I want to make you cum over and fucking over- but I don’t want to waste my load on the floor when it’s better suited inside of you.” He watched her to answer, but he was pushing in before she got a word in. 
“Oh- shit.” Y/N clutched him, looking at him with wide eyes as he sunk into her. Mouth hanging open, she adjusted to the stretch as his head dropped against hers and he kept her eye contact as he sunk in inch by inch. Their breathing mingling as the feeling encompassed both of them. “Oh my god- you’re so fucking big.” Her voice was unfamiliar to herself, sulky and whiny with the pleasure she felt from being stretched. 
“I know, baby.” He grinned, holding on to the nape of her neck. “You’ll get used to it.” Without another word, he pulled out to thrust back in. The process was repeated as her hot, slippery cunt clenched around his cock and tried desperately not to give it up each and every time. 
It was, again, better than he imagined. Nothing could have prepared him for how good it would be to sink into the perfect hole, how she would grip him and suck in deeper. How she’d soak him and how her fingers would dig into his arm, how all he’d be able to see and smell and taste was her. It completely engulfed him and he had no urge to do anything but stay right here. “Okay?” He checked on her as he ground himself into her, her clit brushing over the hair right above his cock and getting it wet. 
“I’m so good.” She slurred, lost in how good it felt to have him inside of her. “I’m so full.” It was insane to her, knowing how she had been treated last time. Even with his direct approach, she’d never felt more cared for, more appreciated. He was working with her, checking in, all while making the first moves that made her feel like he had been hand made for her. “Go harder. I can take it.” 
Y/N had never been fucked the way she wanted and that had been apparent to Harry. He just had a feeling and he knew that she was going to need him in ways she hadn’t experienced. Ways he was more than happy to deliver. “I’ll give you anything you want, Baby.” His nose brushed against hers. “Just make sure to scream my name nice n’loud when you cum for me.” 
It was unlike sex that she thought was real. Y/N held on to Harry as he plowed into her, his grip on her tight as his eyes looked down at where they were connected. It was wet, so fucking wet and creamy all over the base of his cock that she hadn’t known she could do. Her thighs were spread out and over his forearms as he fucked into her like it was his one and only job, whimpering out his name as he gave it to her the way she’d needed. “I knew you’d b-be able to give me what I wanted.” Her words were jostled as her body was, but he replied with another hot kiss. 
Messy, full of tongue and wet, she relished in his desperate need to taste her again. It didn’t matter that her chin was wet or she was getting bruised on her hips, she’d finally felt fulfilled in sex. “Yeah? Y’knew I’d be able to give it to you?” He crooned. “M’glad you knew, because I plan on being the only one doing it.” The words were completely serious and possessive and Y/N loved it. Feeling this level of desire was brand new to her and she didn’t want to give it up. 
“Uh-huh, I- I want you to be the one to give it to me.” As wrong as some people may see it, this was the epitome of a man. Even if he was younger- he had a plan, he had two jobs he’d held for years, a place of his own… He had more than some people her own age. Dedication and loyalty like his were irreplaceable. Maybe she was crazy in indulging in this, in allowing him to have her, but after wasting years with a man who didn’t want her- she wasn’t going to turn away someone who obviously desired her, wanted to worship her- and made her feel like she wanted to do the same back. 
“Good. I wasn’t planning on letting anyone else get a taste. You’re going to be my woman, this is going to be my pussy, M’gonna keep making you feel good. I don’t care who has shit to say about it.” He grunted, pressing theirs mouths together again as he felt her get close. The rippling around his cock and her soft whimpers against his mouth, her hand gripping him hard, he was close to finally fulfilling his fantasy. His dream girl letting go around him and making a mess. “I can feel it, y’know. Feel how you’re gonna cum for me.” He panted against her mouth. 
Y/N felt lightheaded in the best way, her body tingling and the pressure in her stomach building with each scrape of his tip against the spot no one else had reached- or even bothered to look for. Harry was perceptive and keen on her, about to make her orgasm from penetration for the very first time. In all her years she had thought something was wrong, but it turned out that she’d just been with shit people. Her ex husband, the attempts at hook ups, they had no idea how to work her body… But Harry? It seemed like he’d written the manual from the first time he touched her. The only thing she could think about was the pleasure and how good he looked giving it to her. 
Lips swollen and teeth grit, vein on his neck visible, his arms flexed as he railed her. It was like fucking her was his purpose, and fuck- he was fulfilling it. “I am.” She breathed, the tension getting tighter in her stomach. Again, those tears rose in her eyes as each thrust jolted the pleasure inside of her. “I am, I’m gonna cum for you Harry.” Remembering at the last minute that he wanted her to say his name, she sure as hell gave it to him.  “Please, Harry…. Just keep fucking me, give it to me, you’re right where I n-need.” It was right there, she could fucking taste it. “Harry, Harry-”
“Cum for me.” He coaxed. “C’mon, baby. First of many, show me how you cum on my cock. Get me nice and wet- fuck, you’re gorgeous.” The man was in awe of how beautiful she was, but even more about how good it felt as she began to finish on his prick. Her mouth dropping and her eyes watering as she let out a slew of cusses, the quivering of her cunt making it hard to hold on. “Fucking beautiful, that’s my girl. F-Fuck.” 
Y/N felt like she was floating. Pleasure hit every nerve, white hot and tingling. She had no idea what was coming out of her mouth but she felt the burn in her eyes as a tear fell down her cheek, clinging to him as each thrust got that sweet spot and made her tremble in his arms. He didn’t stop, the dark noises he made only spurring her on further. She was wet and she knew she must have completely soaked him. The wet sounds had gotten louder and the way he had groaned let her know she had to have gushed around his cock. “Harry, Harry- H, oh my god.” She bleated, nails digging into his arm. The constant stimulation was only making her more wet and he seemed to be loving it. 
Harry was drunk on the feeling, his own orgasm trailing right behind hers as he worked her through it. She’d made a mess, one he was happy to have all over his skin. The scent of her on him would be his reward, her marks even more so. “M’gonna cum.” He growled. “Where? Where do y’want my cum, baby? Tell me where you want it.” 
“Inside. Inside me, please, give it to me there.” Her legs wrapped around him tighter, making it nearly impossible for him to pull out- like he’d ever want to. His balls tightened at the words, eyes blazing as he looked down at her face. She seemed just as far gone as him, the suction of her soaked channel making him feel borderline insane.
“You- Fuck, Yeah? You want me to give you my load in that perfect cunt?” His grip on her tightened, sure to leave bruises but that was a problem for a later time. It had been a fantasy of his forever, his spunk dripping from her swollen pussy and now she wanted it- was begging for it. There was no mistaking her rapid nod, head tipped up at him as she whispered ‘please, please, please, give it to me’ and fuck, Harry was only so strong. 
He did exactly as asked, his sloppy thrusts hard as he grunted while coming to his end. It flashed over his vision as the loudest groan left his swollen lips, hips stuttering as he buried deep and let loose. Spurts of cum leaving his tip as he unloaded inside of her, the pulsing of his prick felt by both of them as he emptied his balls of every drop of cum. Claiming her, marking her in a symbolic way and the way he’d always been desperate to do. 
There was little hesitation as he took her mouth again, giving her a deep kiss. Tongue running over the roof of her mouth before sucking on her tongue, the most unhinged kiss he’d felt in his life as she clung to him and her cunt continued to milk him of every little bit. “Fuck.” He laughed in disbelief against her mouth. He was coated in a light sheen of sweat, Y/N’s hair was a mess and he was still snugly wrapped up in her as he gently moved her back so she was more comfortable on the counter. His hand came up to stroke her cheek, watching her hazy eyes look back into his own. This was his wet dream come true, but Y/N had no idea the man she had just unleashed. He was just… happy. Satisfied, motivated and fucking happy.  This wasn’t just a fuck for him. “Meant what I said.” His voice was hoarse as he fawned over her, adjusting her hair so it didn’t stick to her forehead. “M’gonna keep you. This isn’t a one and done and I plan on treating you the way you’ve always fuckin’ deserved.” His lips sampled hers again, feeling her arms come up over his shoulders as she reciprocated. “You’re my dream woman, Y/N. M’gonna make sure m’your dream man.”
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whimsiwitchy · 5 days
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he's hooked (oneshot)
hugh jackman x actress!reader
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summary: y/n is an actress in her early 20’s. after having the best night of her career, Hugh Jackman introduces himself. the two stars hook up in the venue's bathroom and for y/n it was nothing but a one night stand. However, Hugh becomes obsessed and can’t let her go so easily.
warnings: use of y/n, she/her pronouns, age gap (22/55), smut, protected vaginal penetration, dirty talk, reader is kinda cocky, hugh is very persistent, reader mentions age gap a lot, oral (f receiving), one use of daddy (in a playful way), bathroom sex.
authors note: y'all I am trying my absolute best to write smut. this is my second attempt and while i'm not super proud of it, I am proud of myself for trying. practice makes perfect I guess lol. anyways, I hope you enjoy. (sorry if it sucks butt) love y'all <33
 Tonight felt like a dream. It was the 97th Academy Awards and you had won your first Oscar for best actress. When your name was called, you were completely shocked. The category was filled with nominees that you had looked up to your entire life and you genuinely thought you had no shot of winning. You were completely honored to win such an award so early into your career. After the ceremony was over, most of the attendees made their way over to the Oscars Governors Ball, which was one of the few after parties that are held annually after the event. It felt surreal to be in a place full of Hollywood's biggest names and it was even crazier that you were now one of them. You were currently sitting at the bar waiting for a drink when a deep accented voice spoke. “Congratulations on your big win tonight. You deserve it.” When you look over to see who was speaking, you’re met with a very handsome Hugh Jackman. “Oh thank you. Congrats to you too, best actor.” Your tone is teasing yet sincere. “I’m Hugh.” He offers his hand to shake, which you take. “I know who you are, Mr.Jackman. I’m y/n.” You shake his hand firmly, letting it go right after. “I know who you are, Ms. y/l/n.” He joked back and you let out a small laugh. You look forward as the bartender sits your drink in front of you and you give him a quick thank you. From the corner of your eye, you can see Hugh’s eyes trail your body. “Did you just check me out?” You turn your head to face him. “It’s hard not to when you look that good.” Hugh says without missing a beat. “Aren’t you married? I don’t think your wife would appreciate you hitting on a twenty two year old.” You give him an accusing look. He lifts his left hand, showing off his bare ring finger. “I'm divorced, babe.” You almost miss the smirk that rests on his bearded face. 
“Hm. Well in that case, there are plenty of beautiful women here your own age here that would happily go home with you tonight. Maybe you should flirt with them.” You turn back to your drink, taking a long sip through the skinny straw. “None of them are as pretty as you. You’re the most gorgeous woman here by far.” You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Bye Hugh Jackman. It was nice meeting you.” You slowly climb down the tall ball stool and grab your drink. Before you can walk off, Hugh calls your name, causing you to turn back towards him. “I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime.” He smiles and you’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t make your heartbeat stutter. “You know that Real Steel was my favorite movie when I was like eleven. Does that make my age more apparent to you or do you not care?” He furrows his brows, pretending to think for a moment. “Hm. I don’t think I care very much.” You laugh, dropping your head. “You’re unbelievable.” He smiles. “So is that a yes?” “No.” You smile and walk away. 
Your friend Kayleigh was ranting to you about a technical issue that happened during her performance earlier in the night and you were trying your best to pay attention. Sometime in between the chat you had with Hugh and now, he had removed the black suit jacket he had on. The sleeves of his white button up dress shirt were rolled up, showing off his large forearms, his biceps peaking out slightly. It was overly distracting. “Girl what the fuck are you staring at?” She moves her head around trying to match your staring gaze. “Y/n please don’t tell me you're staring at that old man right now.” You give her a sheepish look. “God, straight people are so fucking weird.” She sighs. “It’s not weird. He’s kinda hot.” You admit. “Whatever you say. Why don’t you just go talk to him? I’m almost positive he’d fuck you if you ask.” You look back over to where Hugh is talking to some older woman, just like you had suggested. “I kinda already turned him down. Well, not for sex. He asked me to dinner.” Her face scrunches up. “Ew. He’s like older than your parents.” You laugh. “Is it bad that I find that hot?” She nods. “Yes y/n. That’s like really fucking weird dude.” You ignore her. “Should I go try to get him to fuck me?” You ask, genuinely wanting her opinion. “If that’s really what you’re into these days, go for it. I’m highly disgusted by you right now though.” You stand up and grab the small clutch you had with you. “Eh. You’ll get over it. You’ll be okay on your own for a little bit?” She gives you a thumbs up and you make your way over to Hugh and the woman he was speaking to. 
“Hi, sorry to interrupt.” You apologize and turn to Hugh. “Could I talk to you alone for a moment?” He looks confused and completely caught off guard. “Uh, yea.” He turns to the woman. “It was nice to catch up with you.” She says something back that you don’t catch, too busy staring at the vein that is basically jumping out of Hugh’s arm. “You wanted to talk to me?” His words bring you out of your thirsting trance. “Follow me.” You grab his hand, dragging him through a door and into a hallway. “Where are we going?” He asks, taken aback by your lack of plan. “I’m not sure.” You say as you continue to drag him. “Y/n slow down, we can talk here. There’s no one out here.” He stops walking and it makes you tumble back, his grip on your hand stopping you from continuing forward. “We need somewhere private.” His confused expression only deepens. “I don’t know how much more private this can get darling. If it’s really that much of a secret, we can stop talking if someone comes by.” He offers and you huff. “I don’t actually wanna talk Hugh.” 
“You’re confusing me here darling.” You wiggle your hand out of his and raise it to your head in frustration. “I want you to fuck me.” You look at him and his eyes go wide. “I’m sorry…what?” “If you don’t want to, that's fine, we can go back.” Your confidence began to falter. “Wait, that’s not what I'm saying.” 
“So you want to fuck me?” He takes a moment to think before answering.
“Yes.” 
“Then help me find somewhere private.” The two of you make your way down the never ending hallway, checking every door you see. Hugh opens a door and closes it, making his way down the hallway. Seeing as it was the only door that opened so far, you went to check it yourself and saw that it was an empty bathroom. “Why’d you keep going, this is perfect.” You shout at him. “I’m not fucking you in a bathroom.” He looks at you like that was obvious. “Well it’s not like we have any other options. Come on.” You go inside and wait for him. Once he’s inside you motion to the door. “Lock it.” You tell him. “We’re really doing this?” He asks, confirming. “Unless you don’t want to.” He takes a pause before speaking again. “Get your pretty ass over here.” He growls. 
You walk over to him slowly. He pulls you close to him once you’re in arms reach and you look up at him through your lashes. “Too damn sexy for your own good.” He whispers before leaning down and locking his lips with yours. The feeling of his beard against your skin was addicting. The kiss was slow at first, both of you testing the waters with each other. It was you who begged to enter his mouth, tongue sliding against his lips. You didn’t want to come off so desperate but you needed more from him. His large hands slid down to your ass, giving it a tight squeeze that has you gasping. His tongue dives into your mouth, exploring every crevice. It’s messy but it’s hot. “Jump.” He commands and you listen. His hands grab the back side of your thighs and he walks you over to the counter, sitting you down inbetween two of the sinks. His lips are back on yours the moment your body touches the cold surface. 
“You sure you want to do this baby?” He asks. “Positive.” You breathe out. Hugh bends down, sitting on both of his knees. Grabbing your ankle, he gives kisses to the skin that your heel doesn’t cover. He moves upward, leaving long sensual kisses up your calf and thigh, raising the end of your dress as he goes. As simple as the gesture was, it felt erotic, never having a man take this kind of care with you before. His lips move higher, curving with your leg until he’s hovering above your pussy. “You’re wet already baby?” His voice is cocky and if it weren’t for the heat of his breath making your mind foggy, you would’ve called him out on it. He gives the wet spot on your panties a shy kiss. The act has you letting out a quiet moan, sounding louder from the echo of the bathroom. He slips a finger behind the cotton of your underwear and tugs at it while looking up at you. “Can I take these off?” He asks, finger still tugging the fabric dangerously close to where you need him the most. “Yes.” It’s breathy but it gets the job done because Hugh moves his head up, grabbing the top of the fabric with his teeth. He starts to tug your panties down, using one of his hands to help the other side. You lift your body slightly as Hugh pulls them down farther. When they’re all the way off, Hugh sits back with your panties hanging from the big toothy smile he's wearing. The sight was definitely going to be what you pictured the next time you touched yourself. 
“Oh fuck me..” He grabs your panties from his teeth and slides them into his back pocket. “Mhm. not yet, baby. Wanna eat your pretty pussy first.” He leans back in between your legs, lips ghosting over your heat. “So perfect.” He whispers as he kisses each pussy lip three times before finally kissing your clit. “Mhmm, please Hugh.” His tongue slides from your opening to your bud teasingly slow. You can feel his beard scratching the sensitive skin but it only adds to the pleasure. He swirls his tongue around your clit a few times before sucking it into his lips, the feeling causes you to jerk your hips. His hands, that were gently holding your ankles, moved up to hold your hips down. His mouth moves down to your opening, tongue plunging in and out a few times before moving back up to your clit. You hadn’t even noticed that one of his hands moved from your hip until you felt one of his fingers dip into you slowly. He curls the finger and moves it back and forth at an unexpectedly fast pace. Before you can adjust to it, he’s adding another finger and it all becomes too much. “Fuck..I’m gonna cum.” Your words are mixed with moans. He doesn't let up, his tongue and fingers speeding up and it has you cumming hard around his fingers, loud moans feel the air. He gives your pussy one last kiss before leaning back and removing his fingers. When you can fully see his face, it is a sight to see. His salt and pepper beard is covered in your slick, lips glossy. 
“Want you to see how good you taste darling.” He says while moving his two fingers to your lips. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, taking his fingers in your mouth slowly. Hugh hisses as you suck around his fingers, tongue swirling around each one.  Once you're confident that they’re clean, you grab his wrist and take his fingers out of your mouth with a pop. “You still gonna fuck me old man or did you already cum in your pants?” You joke with him. He stands up, both knees popping in the process. Just as you're about to laugh and make fun of him some more, he grabs you off of the counter to stand you up. He turns you around and bends you over the counter. “You keep talking like you weren’t the one staring at me for an hour before asking me to fuck you.” He goes to undo his belt buckle and you shiver at the sound. You're looking back at him through the mirror. “Whatever.” You reach over to your clutch and open it, grabbing a condom. You reach back and hold it back to Hugh. “Here, put this on.” He grabs it with a questioning look. “Why were you carrying condoms?” You roll your eyes and rest your head in your hands, elbows propped up. “Can you mind your business and fuck me already. I’m getting bored.” You were lying right through your teeth. You were far from bored but you wanted to keep the whole ‘hard to get’ game going a little longer.
You watch him open the condom and see his arms move as he rolls it down his cock. As bad as you wished you could see him fully but it was kind of exciting- not knowing what you were about to get. “How do you want me baby?” He asks, looking at you through the mirror. You get a small glimpse of his dick as he slaps it across your ass. “Give me all you got daddy.” He smirks and shakes his head at the name. He lines up his member with your entrance and slides in slowly. Once he’s bottomed out, he doesn’t wait long before he’s slamming back into you. The stretch stings slightly and you hadn’t expected him to be so big. He slaps your ass hard and you yelp in response. You drop your head down at the pleasure. “Nuh uh. Look at me while I fuck you baby.” You raise your head to look at Hugh through the mirror again. “That’s it. Look at how pretty you look getting fucked by an old man.” You couldn’t help but listen to him. Hugh was fucking you dumb and you couldn’t think straight. His balls hitting your clit was what sent you over the edge for a second time. “Please don’t stop Hugh mhmmm fuck baby. I’m cumming, please don’t stop, baby.” Your moans match the rhythm of his hips, each thrust knocking the air out of you with its force. “Just like that sweet girl. Fuck not gonna last much longer.” Even after your high, the pleasure continues as Hugh chases his own. You push your hips back, meeting his thrust. The act makes Hugh moan. “Mhm, I'm gonna cum baby.” His hands squeeze your hips, thrusts getting sloppy as he cums. 
The two of you stay quiet as you both freshen up and try to make it less noticeable that you two left to have sex. You push yourself up onto the counter, sitting lazily as you watch Hugh toss his hair around. “Can you kiss me again?” You ask Hugh. He smiles and walks over to stand in between your legs. He grabs your cheeks and kisses you. “Mhm. You're a good kisser.” The compliment is sincere. You could kiss his lips for hours if he’d let you. He hums. “So, are you gonna let me take you out now?” You look in his eyes and smile. “Hugh we can’t. This was fun and it was good sex but that’s all it was.” “Why can’t we?” He’s quick with his words. “It’s just not practical Hugh. I think you're handsome and you seem like a sweet guy but I'm too young for you. The press would tear us apart quicker than we got together.” You explain. “Fuck the press. Let me take you out and get to know you at least.” You sigh. “I’m sorry Hugh. I can’t.” You offer him a small smile. “I’m not gonna stop trying. You’re too good to lose.” He kisses your cheek. “I should get back out there. I have a friend waiting for me.” He steps back, letting you hop down from the counter. “Bye Hugh Jackman.” You give him a small peck on the lips before leaving the bathroom. 
— 
A few weeks later, you were on set for the newest film you were working on. You’d just arrived an hour earlier and were sent to your trailer to get ready for the first scene. When you walked through the door, you were greeted with a bouquet of wildflowers and a note that read:
I can’t stop thinking about you. -H.J (xxx) xxx-xxxx
tag list: @prettycoolgirl, @nonamevenus, @godlypresley, @pedroscurls, @evasmlp, @bluetimeombre, @sue8724, @princessanglophile, @kellyxo1, @ccmoonshine, @hughverine, @chronicallybubbly, @realhotgirlshitah, @aurlavr, @almosthumongousfunsblog, @wolviesgirl, @flirtyjen, @lilgrinchbitch, @majesticalcocoa, @liamdasimp, @needz1nk, @squishyfruitloop, @afra-ww, @veru-boom
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joelmillermylove · 23 days
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Where we belong Pt.1
Joel Miller x f!reader
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Summary: Your older best friend Joel Miller finally confesses his love for you. Warning: just a bunch of fluff, age gap. Word count: 849. A/N: Hi babes! This is my first fanfic so go easy on me, Iv been working on this for weeks so I hope you like it and sorry in advance for any miss spellings and for the shortness! Much love 🤍
Part two →
It’s late at night in your living room. The only light comes from the flickering TV screen as an old, familiar movie plays. Joel in his late 40s and you in your mid 20s, you’ve been best friends for a few years now. You and Joel are sitting close on the couch, surrounded by the warmth and comfort of years of friendship. The remnants of popcorn and empty glasses are scattered on the coffee table. The room is quiet except for the movie’s dialogue, but there’s a palpable tension building between you.
As the movie plays, you feel Joel shift beside you. His arm, which had been resting casually along the back of the couch, slowly lowers until it’s draped around your shoulders. It’s a small, almost unconscious movement, but it makes your heart race. You can smell his Cologne, notes of citrus, leather and woodsy musk; it’s intoxicating. You lean into him, your head finding a comfortable spot against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat is soothing, but it also makes you more aware of how close you are to him.
Neither of you says anything for a while, both pretending to focus on the movie, but your thoughts are elsewhere—on the warmth of his body, the way his hand gently rubs your arm, and the unspoken connection that’s always been there. The movie reaches a particularly tender scene, you feel Joel’s hand still on your arm. You look up at him, and he’s already gazing down at you, his expression soft but serious.
“Joel?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he lifts his other hand, hesitantly brushing a strand of hair away from your face. The touch is gentle, almost reverent, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “I’ve been thinking,” he says quietly, his voice deep and rough, yet filled with something you can’t quite place. “About us.”
You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “What do you mean?”
Joel takes a deep breath, as if gathering his courage. “We’ve known each other for so long. You’re… you’re my best friend. But lately, I’ve been feeling things I can’t ignore anymore. Things I’ve tried to push aside because I didn’t want to mess up what we have.”
Your heart pounds as he pauses, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you might be feeling. “The truth is… I’ve always cared about you, more than just as a friend. And I’ve tried to keep it to myself, but it’s gettin’ harder and harder, especially when we’re like this.”
His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin in a way that makes your breath catch. “I love you,” he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, and I just… I needed you to know.” The world seems to stop as his words sink in. He’s watching you closely, as if bracing himself for your reaction, his own emotions laid bare.
For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, his words echoing in your mind. You see the vulnerability in his eyes, a side of Joel he doesn’t often show. Your heart swells, and suddenly everything makes sense—the lingering touches, the way he always looked out for you, the moments when it felt like there was something more between you, You were in love with him.
“I… I love you too, Joel,” you finally say, your voice trembling with the weight of your own emotions. “I didn’t want to admit it because I was scared of losing you, of ruining what we have. But I’ve been in love with you for so long.”
Relief floods Joel’s face as he exhales, like he’s been holding his breath this entire time. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to hear that,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing your cheek.
Before you can say anything more, Joel leans in, hesitating for just a fraction of a second as if giving you the chance to pull away. But you don’t. You close the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s gentle at first, both of you savoring the moment, the feeling of finally crossing that line you’ve danced around for so long.
The kiss deepens as Joel pulls you closer, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, holding you as if he’s afraid to let go. There’s a sense of rightness, of everything falling into place, and you realize that this is where you were always meant to be—with him.
When you finally pull back, both of you are breathless, but there’s a new lightness in the air, the unspoken tension finally gone. Joel rests his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “I don’t ever want to lose you,” he says softly.
“You won’t,” you promise, smiling through the tears that have started to form. “We’ll figure this out, together.”
Joel nods, his hand still gently holding the back of your neck. “Together,” he agrees, sealing the promise with another kiss, one filled with all the love and devotion you’ve both kept hidden for so long.
As the night goes on, the movie forgotten, you and Joel stay wrapped up in each other, talking about everything and nothing, exploring this new dynamic between you. It feels natural, like the most obvious next step in your relationship, and you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them side by side.
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hanasnx · 10 months
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work dad
MINORS DNI 18+ PART ONE ✩ PART TWO ✩ PART THREE
“‘Work-dad,’ huh?” your co-star, HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN, goads while he relentlessly bullies your poor cunt. Battered and abused, your puffy folds swell around his fat cock digging into you. You’re breathing is labored because his big hands are palming the back of your neck in a nelson hold. “‘Work-dad...’” he repeats in awe, winded from effort. Your back lays against his chest, legs tucked up as you strain to watch every inch of his length piston into you. For an old man, he sure knows how to give it to you, his experience showing through in his endurance as he keeps you pinned against him. “You think that interviewer knows what we’ve been up to? You and your work-dad?”
You cry out, a sharp pang of pleasure shooting up your spine as your arms remain arrested above your head. His hot breath washes over you, talking into you while he’s fucking you. “Please, Hayden, fuck—“ your broken words earn you a deep snicker in your ear. Voice weighed down by his years of smoking them out reverberates, and he pecks the shell of your ear affectionately.
“‘Hayden?’” he questions, amused. “So you call me my name here,” The squelching sounds of your conjoined sexes grows louder, filling the room. “but tell strangers you think of me as what? You’re not getting shy, are you?” It’s true, the first time you called him your work-dad was a joke in front of an interviewer, he had no idea that’s even remotely what you thought of him. You’re not even sure why you said it other than his age and experience, far surpassing your own. Your legs are falling asleep being stuck in this hold, but your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, limp and lulling. As if every time he pulls out he pulls your spine along with it.
“M’not! No!” you yelp, desperate to please him.
“Alright, so say it. Tell me it again.” he pants, husky and hot. You squirm to the best of your ability, and you feel him flex around you, keeping where he wants you on top of him. “Uh-uh. Use those words, pretty girl. My daughter uses her fucking words.”
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bsfd!James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: Having a thing for your best friend's dad was your dirty little secret. Up until it wasn't so secret anymore.
Genre: SMUT (nsfm)
Warnings: fictional age gap relationship (20f, 40m), drunk!reader, tipsy!James (no drunk sex though bc we love consent), fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), penetration, swearing, corruption kink, sexual themes, nipple play, praise
next part
JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST
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Your small trunk bumps into your knees as you stand in front of the familiar, decent sized, house in the center of Godric's Hollow. An early summer breeze messes up your hair and the humidity prickles at your skin, suddenly making you feel uncomfortable in your woolen jumper.
Inside the house, music plays and you can see silhouettes dancing around. The smell of Ginny Weasley's famous plum muffins swirl around you from outside the door and your stomach reminds you just how little you'd eaten in the train. Quickly, you lift your trunk with one hand and use your other hand to knock.
You hear muffled sounds from inside and then you see Harry Potter's rosy cheeks perk up in a wide smile as he holds the front door open, "Y/n!" He says happily. Harry's dark hair is a mess as a lopsided birthday hat that says Birthday Boy pushes some of his hair away from his face. Harry looks slightly ridiculous, but he's definitely too drunk to care, "Come in, come in." He insists.
Inside, the music is louder and the house is incredibly crowded with a bunch of drunk adults. When Harry invited you to his twenty-first birthday, you had expected something special — especially since, from Harry's stories, Mr. Potter and his friends had a tendency to throw extravagant parties among themselves — but you never imagined a full on muggle-inspired rager.
You can smell beer mixed with some wizard-alcohol Ron had once smuggled into your Gryffindor dorms in your sixth year and you sniffle. "You look nice," Harry compliments and moves your trunk into a corner.
You smile faintly, subconsciously running your palms over your jumper. You look down at your plain white, worn out, sneakers you've had since your Hogwarts years and the boring little jean skirt you'd thrown on because you haven't done laundry in a week. You feel underdressed but mumble a thank you anyway.
Harry doesn't seem to think you're underdressed because he ushers you inside his living room. You pass by countless classmates you haven't seen in a few years and almost all of them are drunk. Some holler your name and grin, while others don't look like they remember you.
When you see Ron and Hermione dancing in the center of the room, you and Harry quickly join them. As you dance, you don't exactly keep track of time as drinks seem to find their way into your hand. You just dance and drink until your mind is fuzzy and you have the sudden urge to use the bathroom.
Honestly, you didn't think you were that drunk. Or at least not until you couldn't seem to find the bathroom in a house you'd been a guest in more times than you could count.
You stumble, hand coming to balance yourself as your foot hooks into the other. You hear someone call your name, a voice you don't initially recognize, and suddenly you feel someone slide your arm around their shoulder, their other arm holding you up from around your waist.
"Hey there, watch your step." The person says softly and you look at them. You think it's Harry at first. It's the same hair and almost the same smile, but the more you focus you can tell it isn't Harry at all.
This man is older — not that you could really tell if you didn't recognize him — and your breath hitches as you quickly pull away,
"Mr Potter!" You exclaim a little loudly, "Oh, I'm sorry. I- I was looking for the loo."
You watch a smirk curl his lips as he stands a little straighter. His dark hair looks a little messy in the best way and you feel a blush creep up your cheeks. You start to question if it's the alcohol you drank, or if Mr Potter just looks extra handsome this evening.
"Well the bathroom's in the opposite direction, love." He chuckles, "And James is just fine. Mr. Potter makes me feel old."
You hide a laugh behind your palm, knowing it really wasn't that funny, and resist touching your cheeks to check if they're as warm as they suddenly feel.
You hear another happy holler and James looks back at the party. His hands run in his curls and he frowns, "Is it just me or have I let this party spiral a little out of control?" He asks you.
You sway on your feet and try to concentrate on James's question and not his lips or how blurry the hallway walls have turned around him. You faintly see James pinch his nose and mutter to himself, "Bloody idiot," as his hand gently skims your arm and you inhale, surprised by the warmth.
You look at him and lose your balance again, this time stumbling into his chest. His hand rests on your waist to steady you. Suddenly, you hear an obnoxious whistle from behind you and you and James look toward the sound.
You see a boy around your age send you a wink as you sway on your feet, and then he raises his glass at James in some kind of sleazy congratulations. You squint. There's no way this guy knows who James is, because if he did he certainly wouldn't have implied what he was clearly implying.
James doesn't respond in any way (if you don't count the tensing of his hands as it moves around your back) and instead he turns around and holds under your arm too. Gently, he helps you walk away from the chaos that is now the party, "Mr Potter, I really need to use the bathroom." You insist.
He looks at you sweetly, "I know, darling, but you can use mine."
You feel your heart jump and you don't answer. Your stomach feels as fuzzy as your head and you stare at James, admiring his features. Then, you look around. You're in a new hallway, one you've never been in. The walls are darker and the wooden floor squeaks under your sneakers.
Suddenly, you hear a door open and a light turns on. You blink and see a small room which consists of one queen bed, one desk, and one armoire. Old and new books are scattered around the room and the navy curtains are drawn shut. In the corner is a smaller door and you pray it's the bathroom.
"In there," James whispers as his hands disappear from your body.
Instantly, you rush inside and as quickly as you went in, you're out again. James, who was finding a shirt from inside his drawer, turns around. "Already?" He asks, slightly amused. You blush and nod hesitantly.
You hear him laugh and the sound sends electric shocks into your heart. What is happening to you?
James makes his way to you and hands you a shirt. Your fingers skim his as you take it in your hand and you look at him, confused.
"I want you to sleep here tonight. With me." Your chest tightens and your eyes round. James's own cheeks dust pink as he rubs his nape, "I just want to make sure you're okay, Y/n. You're drunk and someone could take advantage of you. I want to know you're safe."
James clenches his jaw as a little voice in his head screams at him, "Are you sure that someone won't be you?" He tenses. He'd never hurt you. You're too innocent, too kind, for him to ruin. James hates himself for even thinking of what you're hiding behind your jumper, or admiring how supple your thighs look under your skirt, and he hates himself even worse for imagining the taste of your lips.
"Oh," You say and your thumb runs over James's shirt, "Okay."
James stands straighter as he watches you disappear into his bathroom again to change and if he's honest, he looks longer than he should have.
Sighing, he runs a hand down his face — he needs to end this goddamn party somehow, and holy fuck how is he supposed to explain where you went to his son?
* * *
When you open your eyes, your mind is still a little fuzzy and your throat is extremely dry. You sit up, hands running over the sheets, and you squint as you try to adjust to the darkness and your new surroundings.
You can remember Harry, the party, drinking, and James. You see him. He's sleeping curled up on a chair near his bed.
Quickly, you pull the covers away from your body and stand. Your eyes widen when you realize you're only wearing your panties and one of James's white chemises. What the hell have you done? You wince. Hesitantly, you make your way to where James is and shake him,
As soon as you see him wake up, your word vomit begins, "Mr Potter, I'm so sorry if I was a nuisance yesterday evening. I barely remember what happened. I was so drunk," James sits up. He smiles and opens his mouth to answer but you continue, "I- We didn't do anything, did we, Mr Potter? Because if I said or did something last night, I honestly didn't mean it. It was only ever a silly crush," You whisper, cheeks burning as you subconsciously pull his shirt lower and over your exposed thighs.
You can see James's eyes darken as he listens to every word you say. The moonlight shines onto him, almost making his skin glisten, and you suddenly feel small. "A crush, huh?" James smirks, standing up slowly. Your eyes move from his and then to his chest. It just now hits you that he's shirtless.
You tilt your head to look at him, "Excuse me?"
"When did this crush start?" He asks and leans in. His knuckles brush your cheek and automatically you close your eyes. You wonder how he can feel so close and still so far.
"Last year." You say breathlessly
"And when did it end, love?" James mumbles. His lips are now almost pressed to your ear as his hands caress down your arms. You feel disoriented as you keep your eyes squeezed shut.
"I-It didn't," You admit, making a small breathy sound when James's lips finally connect with your cheek. You feel him smirk and then, slowly, his mouth proceeds down your neck as he gently sprinkles kisses onto your skin. You chew on your lip to suppress a moan as his hands find your hips and pulls you in until you're pressed up against him.
"Is this okay?" James whispers and you nod. "Shit, you don't know what you've done to me this past year, Y/n." He continues and your heart pounds, "Do you even know how many times I've thought of you? The fucking things I imagined?"
You feel him kiss up your jaw, "Filthy things, love. Things I shouldn't have been thinking about my son's best friend. But, Merlin, look at you. You're bloody stunning now." James's voice is low but every time you hear him, that tightness in your stomach worsens.
"Mr Potter," You whimper and run your hand over his cheek. Your eyes flutter and you look at him needily, "Kiss me."
James looks at you intensely for a moment until he smiles and graciously listens as his lips press against yours. Delicately in the beginning — almost as if you're too sacred to him and he wants to savor this moment. But then, when he feels your hands on his chest, he deepens the kiss and his tongue pushes past your lips. You shut your eyes again. hands finding his hair as you kiss him desperately.
You never imagined you'd admit this, but you'd dreamt of this moment countless times in the middle of the night. Still, even in your wildest fantasies, nothing could compare to the real thing.
James pulls away a moment, hands holding your cheeks as he admires your face. You look flustered as you breathe heavily, hair a mess and lips bruised. He smirks and looks at your thighs. You hadn't even realized you'd been rubbing them together to dull the ache, "Fuck," James mutters to himself as he kisses you again.
You whine into his lips, the pressure in your core becoming harder to ignore. You want him, you want him so badly it hurts.
Quickly, you slide your hand down over his pants and you can feel just how badly he wants you too. "Shit," James breathes, gripping your wrist and pulling your hand away. You look up at him, so innocent, and he curses himself, "Y/n, don't start something you can't finish." He warns.
"Who says I can't finish it?" You argue instantly and lean up to capture his lips again.
James chuckles but accepts your kiss anyway. He's going to hell for this, he thinks as your hands wander around his body. He shuts his eyes and sucks on your neck until you let out a small moan.
Fuck, he should want to protect you from the things he wants to do to you.
When he pulls away, his eyes have darkened even more and you can feel a confusing tonal shift. Maybe you couldn't finish this, you start to doubt as you look at him expectantly. You chew on your lip. Maybe this had been a huge mistake and maybe James thinks so too.
"If we continue, we can't go back to normal." James states and you tense.
"I know."
"Y/n, I can pretend this never happened. No strings, no awkwardness, I promise. You just have to say the words." He says, completely serious.
James is no longer touching you and you realize you miss him. You're in way over your head but somehow, you feel completely safe. You don't feel like you're making the wrong decision when you stay silent.
James's eyes sparkle but he runs a hand in his hair and looks away, "Bloody hell." He curses and you smile. He presses his hand to your cheek and then tilts your chin up, "This is insane."
"Just fuck me already," You laugh, "I know you want to."
Once the words leave your mouth, he kisses you hungrily. You lose your balance and fall onto the bed behind you, head hitting the bunched up blankets. You giggle when James hovers over you. "You're a little tease, you know that?" He chastises, his lips exploring your neck once more.
Honestly, you'd be insulted by his comment if you hadn't spent the last year trying to catch his attention whenever you had the chance.
"And you're a dirty perv for lusting after me." You respond slyly. James hesitates a moment but continues to kiss you anyway. When he leans on his arms and looks at you, you can see he looks a little embarrassed. "Don't worry, it turns me on." You smirk.
James shakes his head, "You're quite naughty, huh?" He asks and you nod. When you feel his hand travel down your stomach and lift his shirt to reveal your underwear you feel like you could almost orgasm right there. Instead, you bite your cheek and resist rubbing your thighs.
When James touches you over your panties, you let out a small gasp. As he slides his hand inside them, he leans on his side and uses his other hand to cover your mouth gently, "Don't wake everyone up with your noises, love." He looks at you and smiles as his finger runs up your pussy teasingly, "Just let me make you feel good."
You nod, squeezing your eyes shut. No one has ever made you feel this good already. Sure, you'd had boyfriends over the course of your seven years at school but you realized none of them could compare to him.
"Has anyone ever touched you like I am?" James sounds cocky as he almost reads your mind. When he speaks, his middle finger suddenly curls into you and you arch a little as your eyes widen from the unusual, foreign, feeling.
"I- no. Not as good as you, Mr Potter." You admit, squirming under his touch.
"Good." James leans into the crook of your neck and kisses your cheek. His hand moves just a little harder now – just enough to bring you close, but not make you come – and your breath has become harsher, "And didn't I ask you to call me James." He frowns playfully.
Your hand comes down to grip his wrist, "Please, James." You whine.
"Hmm?"
He wants you to beg. Your entire body feels like it's vibrating.
"Please." You whisper again and his pace quickens even more.
"You're such a good fucking girl." James compliment, kissing the skin near your ear and gently removes his fingers from inside of you. He slides your panties down your legs, leaving your pussy exposed. You barely have time to protest his lack of touch because he's climbing over you.
You shouldn't stare at his chest but you do anyway. Your lower stomach tightens.
James leans down and unbuttons his shirt, the one you have on, until he manages to pull it down your shoulders and away from you. You're completely naked now and, clearly unapologetic, James looks at your breasts and places his lips around your nipples. You gasp, hands wrapping around his — surprisingly muscular — back. You feel faint as the only thing you can focus on is James's mouth as he explores and kisses all over your breasts and collarbone.
"This is sick," James mumbles but continues to kiss you anyway.
You smile and suddenly flip around so you're sitting on his lap, "I want to ride you." You state, eyes twinkling.
James looks wind blown as his hair splays across the pillow and his hands grip your hips. He looks flustered as you feel his boner press against your thigh.
You fumble with his boxers, pulling them down and holding his dick in your hand. He hisses, eyes shutting from how sensitive he is. You smirk and swipe your thumb over his tip until he moans louder.
"Tease." He grits, hands digging into your hips, "In the drawer." He says.
You understand and reach over, opening the drawer and taking out one of James's condoms. Him and Lily have been divorced for years and jealousy stings your chest thinking who he uses them for now.
James takes the condom from your hand, carefully rips it with his teeth, and then puts it on expertly, “You do this often?” You ask, hiding how jealous you are behind a small smile.
"Sometimes," He answers nonchalantly, “But none have been as sweet as you are, love.”
You feel him press against your pussy and your eyes flutter shut. He feels much bigger than anyone you're been with in the past and you bite your lower lip, "Are you okay? We can stop whenever you want, Y/n." James promises, seeing your nervous expression.
You rest your palms on his chest and pull yourself up until you can slowly reach under and guide him into you. "I want this." You whisper.
James curses as his dick disappears into you. You let out a small squeal as he does and he covers your mouth with his hand as you adjust to him.
You nod when you can finally start to move and James settles back into the pillows. You start to bounce and every time you bury his cock back inside you, you whimper with pleasure.
James watches your breasts bounce with you and he feels hot. He's enjoying this way too much. You look beautiful, naked and jumping on his cock like a starved bunny. You're so fucking cock drunk already.
"How does it feel, sweetheart?" He asks cockily and helps guide your hips.
You can barely form words, "I-t I- I f-eel," You moan, hands clutching James's shoulders now as you continue to fuck him, "James!" You groan his name and he bucks his hips.
You feel so goddamn tight around him.
James enjoys you riding him — losing yourself in the pleasure you get from him — but as time passes, your bounces falter and you start to pant. James senses your thighs quiver and he isn't surprised when you tell him, "I'm close."
Your head suddenly hits the pillow as you're spun around and you shut your eyes. You arch your back as James presses himself into you, missionary style, and you wrap your arms around him again,
"Filthy fucking girl." He whispers near your ear as you spread your legs wider to allow him to fuck you easier and harder.
Your eyes roll back as James's hips snap into yours and your nails run down his back. He groans but continues to pound into you.
"You're doing so well," He encourages between ragged breaths, "Are you gonna come for me?"
You nod and he smirks.
"Then go ahead." James says, knowing he can't last much longer either. You explode and you feel warm all over as he continues to fuck you even after you've reached your high.
You tap his back, recovering, "I want to suck your cock. You can finish in my mouth." You whimper.
James moans just hearing the words and pulls out. He pulls off the condom and leans off the bed for a moment so he can throw it into the trash near his desk. You shift your bodies so you can put yourself between his legs and you immediately lick his tip.
You feel him twitch in your hand as you take him into your mouth. James looks at you, one of his hands gripping your hair as you choke on his dick. He's so goddamn close. All it takes is you glancing up at him with your beautiful eyes and running your tongue along his length for him to curse and come into your mouth.
You swallow and James loses his mind all over again. You look completely fucked out now as your eyes flutter and your chest heaves. His heart thumps in his chest,
His hand curls around your neck as he leans in to press a kiss against your forehead. You sit with your legs sprawled behind you, arms clenched between your knees, completely bare in front of him, and you shiver at his touch.
When he stands, you almost call out his name. You don't know what you're so afraid of, maybe you're scared he'll leave you.
"Here." He climbs back into the bed with his boxers on and he guides your arms into his shirt and starts to button it up, "You did so well. Made me feel so good, yeah?"
He takes your cheeks in his hands and you look at him. He feels slightly guilty for the distant look in your eyes, "Are you okay?"
You squirm a little, "I'm a little sore already. You-You're bigger than anyone else I've been with.” You admit.
James looks cocky and he traces circles on your thigh, "How can I make you feel better, darling?" He sees you look away bashfully and play with the buttons of his shirt, "Want me to kiss it better?" He teases.
You feel aroused again and bite your lip, nodding.
James sits on his heels and moves you so you're sitting against the headboard, your legs spread. His shirt rides up your thigh, exposing your pussy, and his dick twitches in his pants. Fuck, he's an evil evil man.
You watch him, breathing harshly, as you wait with anticipation. No one has ever eaten you out before. Your first boyfriend had expressed his disgust and you had never asked anyone again.
James takes your leg in his hands. He starts to kiss your calf muscle and then moves upwards to your inner thigh. You clutch the sheets as he kisses your skin gently.
"Relax, sweet girl." He whispers when you squirm. James is now laying in between your legs and he presses a kiss just above your pussy, his hands hooking under your thighs to push them open even wider.
You moan when he finally licks up your slit. It feels strange at first and your instinct is to move away from it. When he feels you jump, James looks up at you, "Do you want me to stop?" He asks gently.
You shake your head furiously. James smirks and presses another kiss to your inner thigh. This time, he licks and sucks on your skin a little bit before he finds your pussy again and attaches his mouth to your clit.
You gasp and your hands bury themselves in James's hair. You moan his name.
James continues to suck on your clit, occasionally gently thrusting the tip of his tongue into you and you see stars.
"How are you feeling?” James asks in between kisses to your clit. He's not asking to tease this time, but to genuinely make sure he's pleasing you.
"A-amazing — ah!" You cry when he sucks a little harder and you buck your hips into his mouth.
James makes a little sound when you instinctively close your thighs around his head. He uses one of his hands to pull one of your thighs open, and the other follows, "Gotta Keep 'em open, my love." He says and you nod, your eyes squeezing shut.
You feel like you're floating as James continues. It doesn't take long until you come for the second time, collapsing onto the bed with harsh breaths.
James kisses your thigh one last time and gently closes them. He licks his lips and scoops you into his arms as holds you to his bare chest, "You did so well. My good girl."He kisses your cheek and you smile.
"What do you need, love?" He asks once you wiggle from his arms and adjust your hair. You must look completely disheveled.
"Um? Water?" You whisper, unsure.
James is up on his feet instantly as he fetches you some water from the sink in his bathroom. When he returns you're sitting up on his bed and the morning light from the window shines onto your face. James hands you the glass.
"Thank you." You say softly and take a sip.
"How was it?" James finds himself asking and he curses himself in his head. James hasn't really asked anyone how sex was since Lily, but for some reason he burns for your approval. He sounds like a hopeless teenager.
"I loved every second." You reply honestly. "You're the first person who's ever given me head too."
"Really?" He sits next to you and places your glass on his bedside table when you hand it to him.
"Yeah. My ex found it gross."
"Well, he’s a bloody idiot." James says, completely serious, and you laugh. You look at him and James wishes he could hear your laughter all the time.
"James?"
He almost blushes at his name, "Hmm?"
"What does this mean?" You ask, pointing between you and him.
James wants to tell you he likes you. He wants to ask you out to dinner, somewhere fancy where he can spoil you exactly like you deserve, but he doesn't want to sound creepy.
Plus, there is Harry to think of. His son, who will be worried sick if you come out of his father's room looking like you do now.
"I don't know." James admits quietly.
You see his expression and your heart clenches. You want him, you want nothing more than for him to be yours. But you know he can't, not when Harry is your best friend. You don't want to hurt your best friend.
Still, you don't want to shut the door completely, "Can we find out as we go?" You ask timidly, implying that — at least — you want to have him intimately again.
James grins. He has never ever been happier to hear those words.
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feelingthedisaster · 6 months
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being in the supernatural fandom is so funny. there are pages-long essays about characterization, metaphors and picture. there is a lot of crack. the fandom is divided whether you ship world's biggest age gap or incest. one of the main actors has an ao3 account and has probably read the fanfiction. another one of the main cast made his own fanfaction and turn it into a tv show. your favourite characters dies, you laugh bc it wont last, the stay dead for a little bit too long and you start to get worry, they get resurrected and damn, these writers dont know when to stop, its the third time they died and came back, fucking commit to it. we all hate the writers and producers. literally invented queerbait and we all fell for it. a random character from a totally unrelated show is canon bisexual and wow, we are trending. you want to defend your fav character and your main obstacle is your fav character (you gaslight yourself into "all fault is on the writers not my baby"). we out-trended the us elections and contine to trend on every anniversary of that day. we discuss which season is the best like they arent a recycled plot we already seen. the show was meant appel to conservaties and the fandom is made of gay people somehow. the main characters are alcoholic murderers that do extremely questionable stuff every season and we love them for it. someone outside the spn fandom finds out you are in and they look at you like you are insane and you cant even blame them.
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toxicanonymity · 1 year
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Forever for her. Left in Lincoln, pt. 7 .
10k, softdark!Joel Miller x virgin f!reader
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Series Master List | official playlist | floorplan
WARNINGS: I8+, virginity loss, big girthy age gap, angst, dark fluff, reader menstruates, p in v, fingering, grinding, creampie, subtle intimidation, manipulation, horror background elements. Joel is creepy, dark, delulu, and cringe (reader is sheltered, isolated, hormonal). Enthusiastic but dubious consent (brainwashing?), playing fast and loose with climate and fruit. Reader wears a flannel from Joel's closet. Haphazardly edited. This is not the last part.
"We're givin' each other everything, right?" You nodded, then he continued, "So listen." He paused and wet his lips. "I would do anything for ya, peaches." He looked down. "Anything." He met your eyes again and swallowed. "Anything to keep ya safe. . . " He lowered his voice. "an' anything to keep ya mine." 
You woke up in Joel's bed, and he was nowhere in sight. You were warm, almost too warm. The dress was hanging on the back of his bedroom door.  Your undergarments and a pad were on the nightstand.
You took a bath, then put your robe back on and laid on the bed staring at the dress on the back of the door. You could hear the rhythmic scrape of a rake outside and inwardly smiled, picturing Joel doing yard work. You put on your robe, crossed the room to look out the window and felt a refreshing draft as you held the curtains back.  In the bottom right corner of the window's top pane, there was a spiderweb on the outside of the glass. The rake continued to scrape against the ground in the distance.  The web was well-defined and irregular, some of the fibers thicker than others. You admired its intricacy and followed the design, looking for the spider, wondering if it was a male or female.
The rhythmic scraping of the rake lulled you into a trance as you followed the web from the outer edge in, until a black, out-of-focus mass fell right in front of your nose, then you felt a tickle on your chest. You gasped and stifled a squeal. Your body jerked into panic mode. You rapidfire slapped yourself on the chest and felt it smush against your robe. You wiped it on the window pane, then looked at the crumbled spider with its legs drawn in on itself, still moving but barely. It looked like a slow death, but you hoped it wasn't painful. Surely it never thought about its prey this way.  
You took a deep breath and tried to slow your heart rate.  You recalled that time back at your house, outside the spider shed, so long ago – Frank's words through laughter, "we're gonna get through this, honey." You took slow, calming breaths, then swallowed and whispered "sorry," before abruptly turning and walking to the bathroom. You washed your hands and chest with soap again, then came back and sat on the bed. The rake had stopped moving. 
You finally stood up and retrieved the dress, bringing it to the bathroom with you and locking yourself in. You didn't want Joel to see you if it didn't look good on you. Plus, you had to do something really private.
First you went to the toilet. It was its own room within the bathroom. You locked it, too. You sat there for about fifteen minutes trying to let as much of your period out as you could after being horizontal all night. You didn't want all the built up blood pooling in your pad right away. 
Once you did all you could, you washed up and looked in the mirror. You stood there and looked at yourself in your underwear for a minute, mostly looking at your face. You looked different, serious, but vibrating with a new energy. You imagined Joel standing behind you, as if you were in a portrait. Something you'd never have.  But at least you had each other. 
-
You finally put the dress on, over your head. You could just barely reach the back zipper to finish it. It felt much less cumbersome than you imagined it would. It was light and unrestrictive. The lace sleeves had enough room. It felt as comfortable as any other dress. You didn't look in the mirror right away. You looked down at yourself, then  looked over your back, and down your arms. You looked in the reflection of the shower glass and the silhouette looked good enough. 
You turned around to look in the real mirror, and you looked nice. The lace made you feel like a doll, but somehow you looked older than yourself at the same time. You turned around and admired it from the side and over your shoulder from the back, then smoothed it down over your butt and you didn't see the bulkiness you feared from your pad. You looked at yourself head on again, and the only thing out of place was the redness on your chest from scrubbing away the spider. With the dress on, there was a new smile behind your eyes, thinking about how Joel got it for you. 
You went to the kitchen to look out the back window.  You didn't see Joel and were somewhat relieved to have another moment to yourself.  Your tummy felt nervous. You knew it was excitement, but the physical sensation was in discernable from anxiety.  There was a little jar of apple juice on the table with a pill and a note that said "cramps?" You were feeling okay but thought about taking half of it anyway. 
You sniffed the juice and it smelled good. You sat at the kitchen table and stared at the apple juice in the jar, then took a long sip and watched the tiniest bit of apple sediment settle back to the bottom. It was delicious.  You  took half the pill and downed the rest of the juice, then your stomach rumbled. You got an apple from the kitchen counter and sat back down. You inspected it and pressed it. You cut it with your thumbnail to make sure it wasn't rotten. It was crisp, and juice beaded along the crescent moon from your nail. You took a bite and it was fine. You relaxed into the chair and ate the apple. 
Joel had let you sleep late. It was almost mid day.  Just as you were finishing up your apple, you noticed him outside through the kitchen door window. He was standing there and looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He was wearing a white button-up shirt that looked like one Frank might wear to one of his black tie dinners. Joel came inside and as he turned around to close the door, you admired his lower body in a pair of form fitting khakis. 
"You look nice," you told him. 
He exhaled a small laugh and looked at the floor as he crossed the room to you. He sat down at the table and took your hand. "You look like an angel." He kissed your hand and scooted closer.  He smelled like aftershave (although he wasn’t shaved, thank goodness) and a hint of sweat from his yard work. As comfortable as he made you feel, you still got butterflies around him. 
He asked, "Hungry?" 
You nodded. "A little."
"How bout a lil picnic, somethin' light?" 
You nodded "is it nice out?"
"Prettiest day we could want, peaches."
—------
He made some grits and you sat at the table watching.  He pulled the wagon with a basket, quilt, and blanket, and held your hand as you slowly walked. He squinted and looked at the trees, then at you.
He asked, "How ya feelin'?" 
"Good, I'm fine." 
"Good."
You assumed you were going to "your tree," but instead you arrived at a peach tree. He had cleared the area around it so no debris was in the way.  He looked around and asked, "Whatcha think?" 
You looked around.  It was a good spot, away from the back, but not too close to the street. Insulated enough to feel private. You nodded, "yeah, this is nice."
Joel spread out the quilt, then the blanket, then, before sitting down, he took both your hands in his. "I feel so lucky, peaches. You're the most special girl in the world."  His eyes bored into yours. "Really mean that. There's no one like you, darlin'."
You looked down then met his eyes again, biting your lip. "I think you're special, too."
A breeze came and swept your dress out, making the scene feel like a postcard. 
He dropped your hands, then fetched something out of his pocket and looked at it.  Your heart skipped a beat. His thick fingers were blocking your view.
"Now darlin', I'm gonna give ya somethin', but first. . ."
He held it up. It was gold and shiny. Your birth father's wedding band. Your heart skipped a beat and a knot formed in your stomach.  
"My. . ." You couldn't finish the sentence. This meant he knew about the gun, too. . . and your mother's knife.  
Joel must have seen it on your face. "Left everything else how ya had it. You're a smart girl, peaches."  
You tried to read his face. It was soft, sympathetic. You nodded hesitantly. 
"It's okay, darlin'. I don't blame ya. I woulda done the same." He held the ring between his forefinger and thumb and you opened your palm. "Smart to be prepared." 
You breathed a sigh of relief as the knot in your stomach relaxed. But even as it faded, you still had that nervous–no, excited–tummy. 
Joel put the ring in your hand and closed it. He held his hand there around yours and seemed like he might say something else, but he didn't. 
You didn't have anywhere to put the ring.  You had a passing thought to put it on your thumb but it felt stupid.  You felt an urge to say you were going to give it to Joel, but you didn't say anything since he let you off the hook. 
Joel reached back in his pocket and fished out another ring, smaller. It was silver with inset stones. He held it up and said, "I want you to have this one." He stepped closer, so his feet were outside yours. "We're givin' each other everything, aren't we?" 
You nodded, and his eyes watered. 
He nodded with you and his brow furrowed. "I love you. . . And I love bein' a family, the two of us."
Your own eyes felt misty. "I love you, too."
He took your hand, and slid the ring onto it. It was old fashioned, simple. "Ain't never gonna let ya go."
"Good," you whispered. 
He kissed your hand, and when he tried to hold your other hand, too, you realized you were still holding your father's ring. 
"Um," you cleared your throat. "Would this fit you?" You asked and opened your hand. His face relaxed. 
"I dunno, peaches," he whispered. His eyes sparkled at you. He held his hand palm-down. The top of his ring finger's knuckle was a little red as if he'd already tried to put it on. You slid the ring part way on, but his finger was too big. 
"Sorry," you muttered and felt a lump in your throat. You didn't have anything to give him. It rested above his knuckle. 
"S'okay darlin', it's the fact that ya tried." He unbuttoned his shirt pocket, dropped the ring into it, then buttoned it again. "I'll keep it safe for ya."
You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth and nodded, looking up at him shyly, somehow feeling like you ruined this. 
He cupped your face and read your eyes, then closed the gap between your faces and his lips pressed into yours. 
He hugged you into him, kissed you harder, then murmured, "wanna sit down?"
You nodded.
You smoothed your dress under you and sat down with your knees to the side, leaning toward him.  He unpacked a thermos of grits and two bowls. He unbuttoned his wrists and rolled up his sleeves and his forearm flexed with every lift of the spoon.  You ate mostly in silence, but he looked at you adoringly the whole time and your nerves faded.  His wrist nudged his inner thigh and when your eyes drifted there, the shape of his cock sent a pang between your legs. He followed your gaze and your face heated up as he raised his eyebrows. 
When you were finished eating, you washed it down with the apple juice, then Joel packed up the basket and put it back in the wagon. When he settled back onto the blanket again, he had a serious look about him. 
He sat down with his legs folded to the side so his knees were toward you, and he braced his hand on the blanket, leaning toward you. He kissed you again.  He tasted like apples and you imagined he did, too.  As he pulled away, he read your face and cupped your cheek. "You're the most beautiful angel, darlin'," he smiled.  His gaze lingered, then he swallowed and looked down.  He sat up straighter and cleared his throat. He asked again, "We're givin' each other everything, right?" 
You nodded, then he continued, "So listen," then wet his lips and paused. "I would do anything for ya, peaches." He looked down. "Anything." He swallowed. "Anything to keep ya safe," he met your eyes and lowered his voice. "And anything to keep you mine." 
Your heart raced and you slowly nodded as he let it sink in.
"Get what I'm sayin', peaches?"
"Bad things," you nodded. 
His brows remained furrowed as he studied your face.  His voice was low and gruff.  "Yeah, you could say that."
You looked down to his shirt and the outline of your father's ring in his pocket. He continued, "and darlin', I've felt this way for some time."
Your chest fluttered.
He looked up at the leaves of the peach tree, and it hit you that this was where he found you that day. 
Your whole body felt warm, especially in the lace sleeves. He looked at you with anticipation and you admitted, "I had a feeling."
He lifted his eyebrows as he searched your eyes. "Okay," he whispered with a small nod. He looked down again. 
"Yeah," you replied.  ". . .and maybe you already did bad things."  Your chest pounded. He looked at you blankly, and once he blinked, you rephrased, "Necessary things. To be together." 
His jaw shifted back and forth. He looked at your mouth, then back up at your eyes. "Would ya wanna know?" 
Tension gathered between your eyebrows.  You took a deep breath, looked at his lips and watched his jaw clench. His eyes watered.  After a moment, you slowly shook your head no. He inhaled and his eyes narrowed. Your voice was a near whisper as you told him, "No. . . Doesn't matter now." 
Joel exhaled and nodded. He looked at you intensely and whispered, "Okay, baby."    
You didn't need to know. You told him, "We're together, that's all I care about."
"Me too, darlin'." He chuckled, then relaxed and said, “so glad we got each other.” He folded his knees toward you again, leaned in, and cupped your cheek, his eyes locked with yours. “Me and you, baby.” 
“You and me,” you whispered, lashes fluttering as his face drifted toward yours. 
—-
Your lips locked, and yours tingled with excitement. 
His hand moved to the back of your head.  His tongue parted your lips, and he pulled you into him as he became more passionate. 
As his kiss intensified, he gently lowered you into lying down on the blanket, with one of his knees  between yours. His hand ran up your side and came to a rest on your breast as his mouth devoured yours.  He palmed your breast, gently bit your lip, and his length hardened against your thigh. When he pulled back, he cupped your face and raised his eyebrows, and his voice was husky. "I'm never," he kissed your lips, then lowered his volume and looked into your eyes, "gonna let you go." His thumb stroked your temple.  His lips brushed yours, then kissed you deeper.  He pulled back, shook his head with a small smile, and his voice became a whisper as he repeated, "Never." 
Your skin prickled with goosebumps, Joel's beautiful face hovering over yours under the peach tree, his body pressed against yours.
"Good," you whispered, and took his head in both your hands. You pulled him down on you. He braced himself with one forearm on the blanket near your head and his other hand traveled back down your side, down your dress, and reached under the skirt of it to your thigh. His hand slid up your thigh and he squeezed it, then lifted your thigh against him. 
He lowered his hips to rest against yours, and his cock grew stiffer against you.  The warm shape of his stiff length made your whole body go weak. He lifted himself off you just long enough to get the skirt of your dress out of the way.  You felt warm and wet between your legs and didn't know how much of it was blood. You knew he didn't care, but it didn't entirely leave your mind. 
He had the front of it bunched up at your hips, with his hand between your legs.  You flinched as his palm glided over your panties, feeling the shape of your pad. But it didn't phase him at all. He gently reached into your panties. 
Your face tensed. “Remember, I–"
"I know, baby," he reassured you with kind eyes.
"What about the dress?”
“Dress don’t matter, darlin’." He kissed you again. "Long as you're feelin' good." He planted another kiss and pressed his hard-on against you again. "Are ya?" 
You nodded an unequivocal yes. It was certainly what your body wanted.  
"Hell, let's paint it red,” he mused. 
You relaxed and laughed softly. 
"No?" He asked with a smile, then leaned his forehead against yours. He kissed you gently.  
The time of the month wasn't ideal, but you wanted it. If you waited, he might think you weren't ready after all. Plus, you were more comfortable than you ever thought you could be. A month ago, you would have died at the thought of a man seeing any evidence of your period at all. But Joel was so reassuring, so comforting, and he really wanted all of you. He was turning it into something beautiful, and you had no doubt he felt that way.  He looked at you again, then asked, “Sure you’re feelin’ good enough?" He kissed you again.  “‘Cause that's all that matters.”
“I am,” you nodded earnestly.”
“You sure?”
"Joel," you sighed on the edge of irritation.
"Ok, darlin'."
He slid his hand down and exhaled vocally when his fingers met your warm, moist folds. He ran his fingers up and down your folds, moistening your clit, then he slowly, teasingly circled it. His cock swelled harder against you. "You wanna go to bed?"
You shook your head. "It's magical out here."
"That's right, peaches," he murmured lowly into your neck, lightly circling your clit with his moist fingers. His breath was warm and humid against your neck.  "Special, ain't it?"
You nodded, and pulled his head back down to yours. Your lips met again.  His thick fingers tensed, slid down, and prodded at your entrance. You tilted your hips and he gave a short, low "mm" as he brought his fingers back to your clit. 
His tongue slid against yours in rhythm with his fingers. His mouth grew hungrier for yours every moment as he massaged your most sensitive place.  He got you almost to the edge. You whimpered as his hands worked within the confines of your panties.  Then he asked,  "Let's take these off, hmm?"  You nodded. He started to do it, then looked at your face to confirm, "You want me to?" 
"I can do it," you lifted your hips and slid them down, and once they were mid-thigh, he finished taking them off. 
He lowered his torso against yours and his massive hand nudged your shoulder up toward him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he lifted you into sitting. He traced the back neckline of the dress and murmured, "want this on or off?"
You shrugged. 
"up to you, darlin'. But I sure would like to see ya." He kissed your neck and you could feel him smile against your skin. "If you're warm enough"
You were warm all over. You were so warm at your very core that it was hard to imagine ever being cold again. You asked, "you'll keep me warm, won't you?"
"Course I will."
You cracked a shy smile and planted your hands on the ground to lift your weight off the dress. Joel brought the dress up to your stomach, his fingers smearing it red, then you lifted your arms and he took it off. He planted delicate kisses on your chest at the base of your neck, and your shoulder as he gently nudged your bra straps off. Then he unclasped the back, and you let it fall in front of you. He put the bra aside and you were naked.  He folded the dress into a pillow and put it under your head. 
You looked at Joel's clothes and didn't say anything, but he replied to your silent question with a teasing smile. "no, I don't have to be so dressed..." you silently unbuttoned his pants, eye on his cock straining against the khakis, as he unbuttoned his shirt.  Before pulling down the zipper, you traced the hard shape of his cock, and his chest let out a nearly imperceptible growl at your first rub. 
He made quick work of the remaining shirt buttons, smearing a few of them red.  His chest flexed as he peeled the sleeves down his bulging arms. He took his undershirt off over his head, tousling his hair, which he didn’t fix.  It was the hottest you’d ever seen him. You were sitting back on  your hands, naked body laid out for him.  He looked at you lustily every few seconds as he took his pants off, then his boxers, leaving his commanding cock bobbing heavily before you.  You pulled your eyes back up to his face and he looked at you adoringly. 
He knelt on the blanket. Was this really going to happen? You reached out, and he nodded. You wrapped your hand around his shaft and whined, "I'm ready, you know I'm ready."
"Ready for what, darlin'?"
"To put our bodies together." 
He nodded. "yeah, baby. You're ready. Gonna be real special."
He got between your legs where a fluttering ache was pounding, begging for relief.  He held his cock in his hand. You felt your body making space for him. There was a place inside you that needed to be filled. He slowly lunged toward you and braced his hand on the blanket above your hip.  He ran his tip through your dripping folds and his manhood further hardened. He spread the moisture over his cock. He laid his hard cock on your mound and brought his face to yours again. He rested about half his weight on top of you, his bare body flush with yours, his forearms braced on the blanket. 
He kissed you deeply, grinding his erection against you, slick with your arousal and blood. Your lips embraced his and your mouth practically sucked in his tongue. He licked into you in rhythm with his slow thrusts against you. Your clit twitched against his cock and you lifted your hips, making him moan into your mouth.  You needed him in you yesterday. You lifted your hips again and his mouth curved into a smile against your lips. 
He reached between your legs and the breadth of his hand took up all the space. You whimpered at the first contact of the padding of his fingers with your naked heat. He slowly, lightly rubbed you as he kissed you, then slid his fingers down through your folds, gathering your moisture. He entered you with his middle finger, then his ring finger. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers slid all the way into your warm core. His cock swelled harder against your thigh as he pumped his thick digits in and out of you. He moaned softly, then added a third. Your hips rocked into his hand. 
You were tense, afraid of coming too soon. 
"Joel," you whimpered. 
"Yeah baby," he murmured.
"What if I–ohh–what if I come too soon."
He chuckled, "you can come, baby," he kept working his fingers inside you, pressing his upper palm into your clit. You sighed and the tension swelled in your gut. "'s'a good thing, darlin'. gets ya ready for this." He rolled his stiff manhood against you as he said it. "Nice 'n ready." 
"But Joel," you whined, unsure. "I want you inside"
"You wanna come on my cock?"
"Yeah, on your cock."
"Oh, baby," he moaned, his cock leaking against your thigh. "You will, baby. You will. You'll come again." 
"Really? 
He nodded. "Yeah. C'mon darlin, You'll come on my cock, too."
His eyes were sincere. He returned his attention to your clit and you let go. As you began to contract, he slid his fingers back inside you. "Oh, good girl," he sighed as you squeezed his fingers. "Like that, don't ya? Like squeezin' me?"
You nodded and whimpered, unable to speak as you rode out the orgasm. 
"Oh, baby."  He continued grinding against your hip and kissed you again as you recovered. 
He pumped three fingers again, and under his breath, he muttered, "good. . .good." He moaned and pushed his hips against you. "Now I've got ya stretched, nice and relaxed." 
"Joel," you begged. "Are you gonna–" 
“Oh darlin’, I’m comin’.” he whispered. “Ready to be full of me?”
“Yeah,” you nodded. "Fill me with you," you begged. "Put it in." 
“Givin’ each other everything now,” he reminded you. “Can’t get it back.”
You nodded, “you can have it all.”
“And I’m gonna give it to ya, too.”
You nodded and your walls twitched in anticipation.
"Gonna give it all to ya."
He read your eyes and as you got lost in the black holes of his pupils, the clear fibers of his affection wrapped around you, tethering you to him and the moment. He pulled his hips back and his knees spread slightly.  You spread your legs to make room. He looked between your legs and the affection on his face faded into desire.  “My lands, peaches.” 
He hovered over you.  Your hands skimmed up his sides, and came to rest around his neck.  
He used his hand to notch himself at your entrance and pushed his tip inside, stretching you open. You gasped softly, breasts heaving in anticipation of the rest of it.  You dragged your feet toward your butt on the blanket, lifting your knees to frame his hips. 
“I love you, baby,” he whispered, and put his forehead against yours. 
“I love you too,” you whined, brows furrowed. 
His forehead lifted off yours, his lips returned to your mouth, and his hips pressed forward, inching his cock into you with a stretch.  His lips broke away from yours and his mouth stayed open.  He watched your face as his girth spread you open, dividing your walls.  You gasped and nodded for more.  He pushed further, taking you apart from yourself inch by inch. You imagined even a smidgen more girth wouldn’t feel good. He bowed his head and backed out an inch of his length, watching your body suck him back in as he pushed in a little more than he had before. 
“God damn,” he whispered, then wet his lips as he looked back up at you with half his length sheathed in your warmth. 
“You feel so good, joel”
“Oh, darlin’,” he breathed. “You got no idea.” 
“I want it all,” you begged.
He nodded, “Okay, baby.” then slowly pushed his hips forward, gradually burying his length with some effort, stuffing you full of him.  “Oh, darlin’.” The look of pain on his face told you how hard he was trying not to slam into you. He was slow and gentle, and his tip pushed through your core with even more heft than you imagined.  Each inch of him spread you more and filled you fuller than you thought you could be. Your body made more space and he took it up right away. 
“Joel,” you breathed. 
He whispered your name and said, “you’re doin’ so good.” His flesh didn’t just complete you, it made you more than you were. He took you apart and made you something new, something wrapped around him so tight. “almost there, baby.” And then he groaned “Ohhhh, god,” as you swallowed up the rest of him. It was a perfect fit. 
You whimpered as he came to a rest. His cock filled up the whole space and made more for itself.  The fuzz of his balls brushed your skin. Your mouth hung open and you breathed, savoring the fullness of feeling him there inside you for the first time. 
“Oh, darlin’,” he sighed, staying all the way inside you. He pressed his lips into yours, then pulled back and asked, “You okay?”
You nodded, happy tears prickling your eyes. His brows knitted. 
“Are you okay?” you asked. 
He nodded. “First time in years,” he whispered, and looked up at the tree. His cock twitched inside you and his tip nudged your cervix. “You tell me when you’re ready, baby.”
“I’m ready,” you nodded. 
He looked you in the eyes again. “Our life starts now.” He withdrew most of his length, then let it back into you, his belly flush with yours while his cock dragged heavily inside you. He closed his eyes as your bodies became flush again. He retreated again at a snail’s pace, then pushed in a little faster. 
“Saved this just for me, didn’t ya?”
He met your eyes again, then added, “Never be anyone else.” 
He lowered his face for another kiss.  Each time his flesh filled you up you could hardly believe how your body hugged him.  It was like your body had been waiting for him all along.  It really had been. This was what your bodies were made to do. Complete each other.  
He looked at you and his brow furrowed again. 
You asked, "What? What, Joel?"
“Now that I’ve been inside ya,” he breathed, "I’m not sure I know how not to be.”
You knew exactly how he felt. You couldn't bear the thought of being pulled apart. 
He reached a slow but steady rhythm, gently filling you with his cock. You traced his shoulder, then his bicep.  His bare stomach was resting against your skin, his happy trail touching you with each thrust m. He had about half his weight on you, and he let gravity help as he thrust into you. You imagined it as a magnetism. Each time he retreated, your bodies pulled back together. He bowed his head and watched himself disappear between your legs, and watched your body clinging to his shaft, hugging him tight, trying to pull him back in, not letting him go. “God damn, baby,” he breathed as he watched. “most beautiful thing I ever seen.”
When your caress reached the crook of his elbow, he braced on one forearm so he could take your hand and interlace.his fingers with yours. He held your hand to his chest and whispered, “All yours, darlin’,” his hips still moving, his cock sliding snugly against every ridge of you . 
You nodded tearfully, pressing your palm into his chest, feeling the soft hair and the hard muscle. 
“Every beat of it, peaches.” 
Your other hand cupped his cheek, then slid up to tangle in his hair as his face returned to yours, kissing you as he buried his length in you. When your faces separated, you watched the surreal beauty of his form – his messy hair, his tan skin glimmering, his brown eyes flickering with affection as he filled you to the brim with his flesh. 
“Oh, baby, you feel so good”
“I–I’m so–it’s so–”
“Packed full of it, aren’t ya baby?”
You nodded. “It’s so much,” you whispered. “But not too much,” you quickly added. “‘s’perfect.”
“So perfect, darlin’--Ohhh god, baby-–always knew ya were.” 
All you saw was him, and the rhythm of his chest over yours. Beneath his heavy breaths and moans, leaves danced in the breeze, birds chirped, and the occasional piece of fruit thumped in the distance as it hit the ground.  “Oh baby, I've been starvin’ for this.” His hips moved steadily, filling you with his cock every second or so, whispering your name here and there, marveling at your beauty.  
“It feels so good, Joel.” 
“how’s it feel?”
“Meant to be there,” you whispered, then sighed as his cock dragged through your core, completing you again. “Like it’s filling my body” More than that–it was creating space for itself, space you didn’t have before, that's the part you didn't expect. It was moving the most intimate parts of you out of the way and replacing them with him. 
You tried to describe it.  “It’s like –”  He lowered his mouth to your neck and sucked “--oh, joel–it’s–it’s–.” 
“Oh, baby,” he sighed against your neck, his hips moving steadily. “I know it, darlin’,” he murmured, grinding his pelvis into yours with each smooth thrust. He slowed his hips, still grinding against you, stiff cock dragging inside you. “Meant to be right here.” Your leg wrapped around him and his thrusts became more measured, his pelvis closer against you, grinding into your clit. “Meant to be fillin’ you.”
The pleasure was swirling, nearly coming to a boil in your gut, humming for release against his front, around his cock. “I love you,” you breathed, lifting your hips into his. 
“Ohhh, baby I love you too,” he whispered with a smile and near laugh. “‘n’ I love how ya take it.” His eyes darted around your face affectionately, then he bowed his head to look at where your bodies met. “Look so pretty wrapped around this cock,” he looked back up at you with bright, glistening eyes. “Look so pretty, peaches.” Your clit twitched. His movements had your hips lifting into him all on their own. “Yeah, that’s right, darlin’.” You let yourself grind up into him. “Jus’ like that,” he whispered, his body  grinding against your mound as his cock moved within you. The tension hummed louder and tightened your core on the edge of bliss. You both moaned. 
“Now I want ya to come, peaches,” he said in a serious tone. “Ohh, oh baby—want ya to come and squeeze me real good, can ya do that?”
You nodded, biting your lip, vision getting blurry with the moisture in your eyes.  You couldn't take any more tension but unsure if or when the peak would overtake you. 
“C’mon, I got ya,” he breathed as you teetered on the edge. “Breathe, baby. c’mon.” You remembered to breathe, his pelvis grinded into yours again, and then you whimpered as the tension burst. “Jo–ohhhh,” your voice was shaky as it overtook you. Your clit spasmed and each wave pulsed outward through your body. Your tears overtook your eyelashes as you moaned and gasped. Your walls clamped down around his cock, and he groaned. 
“You–Ohgoddamn,” he muttered as though losing control. Then he groaned, bottomed out hard, and erupted with a shudder. A burst of warmth flooded your core, then your whole body. He dipped his head to kiss you as he came. His cock pulsed into your walls again and again and your walls squeezed in return. His lips pressed into yours, then his tongue. He kissed you and moaned into your mouth. He sucked and gently bit your bottom lip as he filled you.  He was filling you all the way up, every single part of you full of him, his essence rushing through you. 
There was before this and after this, you finally got it, after all this time he tried to make you see. You  understood everything. Like how there was so much beauty left in the world, and it was right there between you. It wasn’t an abstract wish, it was the physical presence of you and him, your bodies together, pulsing against each other’s most intimate parts, his seed spilling into you, his lips on yours, your bodies inseparable, on the ground in the orchard. You saved it for him. Your whole life led to him. 
His kiss became more tender as he finished coming. He pulled back and his eyes glistened as he read your face. 
You locked eyes for what felt like forever, with Joel still breathing heavily, most of his weight on top of you.
“I love you,” he whispered. 
“I love you, too.” 
His eyes fell to your mouth and he kissed you again.  “gonna pull out now, okay?”
Your lip trembled and your temples felt weak at the idea of your bodies not being joined. He could tell.
“It’s okay, darlin’. We’ll lay here, long as ya want.” He nodded at you and raised his eyebrows for permission to pull out.
You bit your lip and nodded. 
He lay half on top of you, with a hand on your breast. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you whispered. “How did it–how was it?”
“Like nothin’ i’ve ever known, baby.” He sucked in a shaky breath that made you look down at his face and his cheeks were wet. 
You took a short nap like that, naked under the peach tree, until a dead leaf fell and tickled your arm and you jolted awake. A bird cawed at your sudden movement, and Joel asked, "you okay?" 
When you got up, you only put your underwear back on. Joel wrapped you in one of the blankets, put his arm around you as he brought you back inside. 
As you were walking back to the house, you heard the car noise again, toward the front of the orchard, and you froze, your eyes wide, looking toward the street. But this time it came with a breeze and the rustling of leaves. 
“Just the wind, darlin’. What’s got ya so jumpy?”
“I dunno,” you mumbled. “Sorry.” 
You didn’t realize you were jumpy.  Maybe since you found out Bill and Frank could come home soon, you kept expecting them. 
—-
When you got back inside, he laid the dress across the back of a chair in the living room and traced one of several red smudges with his fingers. There was bright red and dark red. "See? It's beautiful." He patted your hair. "gonna remember this forever." 
He ran a bath. You sat on the edge of the garden tub as the bath filled up, and he kneeled in front of you in his boxers. He curled his fingers into the waistband of your panties and you stood up as he helped you take them off. There was diluted  blood drying on your inner thighs. He dipped a sponge into the hot water to clean you. When you noticed a bit of his cum leaking out of you, it made you sad. You hoped he’d give you more. 
Joel got in the tub first, then you got between his legs and laid back. You laid in silence for a while, then said, “I loved that." Hearing yourself in the bathtub sounded crisper than usual. 
“What’d ya love, darlin'.”
“I love having you inside me.”
“Oh, baby, it’s my favorite place to be.”
"Good”
His cock twitched against your lower back. “‘Course it is, baby.” He kissed the crown of your head.  
"I feel empty now"
"'S'okay, darlin'. You're s'posed to. 'S'posed to want somethin' there." His hand came between your legs and gently fingered your floating curls.
He shifted his hips under you. "Gotta pace yourself, but it'll feel better and better, I promise."
"Okay."
"We’ll rest up and do it again later." 
"Yeah."
—---------
That night, you did it again.  He was deep inside you, pressing sweet kisses into your neck as you whimpered beneath him.
“How’s it feel,” he murmured into your neck. “Still feel good?”
“Feels good,” you whined
“S’only gonna get better, baby. Better every day.” He slowly retreated, then sighed "ohh, baby" as he filled you with his cock again. He was still fucking you slowly, carefully, grunting and moaning with your whimpers and sighs. His hair was messed up again, moving to the beat of his thrusts, and his neck veins were bulging. 
There was a loud rap at the door, startling you both.  Joel’s hand reflexively covered your mouth as he froze, then composed himself and completed one last slow thrust, one that felt even better with you frozen in fear.  
“Gonna be okay, baby,” he whispered, then pulled out. He slowly released his hand from your mouth, pressing a kiss into your lips. Your eyes were wide. You hadn't heard the car over your mutual pleasure.  "Gonna be okay," he repeated.  
He pulled on a pair of jeans and white t-shirt. He took a gun out of his nightstand.  There was another loud rap at the door, longer this time. A deep voice with the same drawl as your husband. “JOEL, IT’S ME. OPEN UP.” 
Joel looked at you and whispered, "Tommy."  
Joel put the gun in the back of his jeans and shut the bedroom door behind him.  
—--
The front door creaked as Joel opened it. “Tommy.” You heard the slapping of a hand on a back as they greeted each other, then the door closed.  “Didn’t know ya were comin’, woulda gotten a room ready or–”
"Just dropped off Bill ‘n Frank.”
“Shhhh.”
“Hey, what the hell's goin' on? Where's the kid?”
“Tell’em she’s safe.  Asleep upstairs."
"You don't think she'd wanna see'em?"
"No sense in wakin' her up." 
There was a long pause, then Joel asked, “Why’d ya drive’em?" 
“Their truck gave out.” After a long pause, Tommy added “Frank said somethin’s off with you.” 
“What're you talkin’ about? Why would Frank said that?” 
"Said ya smiled. Made'em uneasy." 
Joel scoffed. "I was bein' nice."
Tommy laughed. "I told'em you're weird about hospitals, prolly overcompensatin'. Told'em everything's fine. . ."
Joel said, "good, ‘cause everything is."
"You gonna invite me in?"
"Come on in." A few footsteps, then the front door shut. 
Tommy asked, “She’s upstairs?” 
Tommy’s boots thudded away from Joel's bedroom, toward the stairs. 
“Tommy, wait.”  
Tommy didn’t wait.  Two sets of footsteps climbed the stairs, with Joel’s quieter steps following Tommy's boots. You couldn't hear their conversation. A door opened and closed upstairs. Then another. And another.  You turned the ring on your finger.
Footsteps, then indistinct heated words.
The lighter set of footsteps descended the stairs with the boots following behind.  Tommy's voice got closer on the way down the stairs. “somethin’ ain't right here.”
The front door locked before Tommy made it down.  
Joel was calm. “Slow down, take a breath.”
Tommy replied, “I don’t like that look you’re givin’ me, brother.”
Joel told him, “You need to sit down and listen to me.”
“Joel, if I don’t come back, Bill’s comin’ over here.” 
"She's safe," Joel insisted. "C'mere, let's have a drink."
The footsteps faded into the living room, then stopped abruptly. "What the hell's that?" The footsteps slowly resumed, then stopped again. Then, the rustling of fabric.  Tommy's voice was shaky. "What the hell is this, Joel?"
"Shhhhh. Ain't what ya think." 
"Don't look like it," Tommy laughed in bad humor, then composed his nerves into calm anger. "What'd you do, Joel?"
"Nothin', Tommy. It’s her period, damn. Now sit down."
"I may be the only one who knows how dangerous you are, but don't act like I don't fuckin’ know.” 
Your heart skipped a beat.  
Joel responded, “You don’t."
You held your neck, looking around the room. Your pulse was pounding against the heel of your palm.
“I don't? What the hell’s that s'posed to mean?”
“I’m in love with her, Tommy." Your heart swelled. 
"Jesus. . ." 
Tommy mumbled something else, and Joel responded, “She's not a kid." 
"She's Bill's kid," Tommy countered. 
"Not anymore. And I’ll do anything to keep her." After a pause, Joel added, “I mean anything.”
"I fuckin' know you do," Tommy snapped. 
"Then we’re clear," Joel said. "Tell'em ya didn't wanna wake her up."
"Not ‘til I see her," Tommy insisted. 
There was a beat of silence, then Joel offered, "Cool off first, have a drink. Don't wanna scare her."
Your heart raced. Their voices became indistinct as they moved towards the kitchen.
—---------
You sat on the bed stunned. Your parents were home, and you weren't as happy as you imagined you'd be to hear it.  You were wholly preoccupied by Tommy's words. Joel was dangerous. You had already come to know it in your heart, but hearing someone else say it out loud had your mind racing. You never thought about what that meant for you. The worst part was the fear in Tommy’s voice. Would Joel do something to Tommy? His own brother? They were family. You and Joel were family. 
You got up and went into Joel's closet.  You pulled out a flannel and put it on over your nightgown.  You built up your courage, then slowly opened Joel’s bedroom door. 
—---------------
You emerged from the bedroom, unsure how either of them would react. You pulled the flannel over your hands, hiding the ring. As you tiptoed into the living room, Joel was on the sofa facing away from you. Tommy was facing you and saw you first. He was holding a mostly empty glass of whiskey. Joel's glass was already empty on the coffee table.  Tommy sat upright and swallowed. He put his glass down on the side table. 
“Hey,” Tommy's voice was soft, like he didn't want to startle you.  “You okay?” 
Joel looked over his shoulder, then turned his body. 
“Yeah,” you nodded and walked over to them, looking at Joel.  Joel's face softened as he looked at you.  You sat on one of Joel’s thighs, your bare feet on the floor holding some of your weight.
“They're home, darlin’,” Joel said and looked at you with pleading eyes.  “wanna go now, or let’em get some rest, see’em in the mornin’?”
You didn’t hesitate. “Let’em get some rest.” 
Tommy sat back and raised his eyebrows in surprise. When you looked right at him, the dress caught your eye on the other chair and your chest felt hot. 
Joel cradled your head with one hand and kissed you on the cheek. “Ok, peaches. Give Uncle Tommy a kiss goodnight, then go back to bed."
You looked at Joel hesitantly. He nodded toward Tommy and flexed his jaw.
Tommy watched you curiously as you approached. You gave him a loose hug around the neck and the lightest peck on the cheek. 
“Night, sweetie,” Tommy mumbled. 
You went back to Joel's lap and put your arms around his neck. He looked at you and you searched his eyes. He gave you a chaste kiss on the lips and whispered, "Go on. I'll be there soon," with a wink. His hand was big and warm on your back as you stood up to walk away.
Before you closed the bedroom door behind you, Tommy said, "Okay, she's not a kid. . . Don't mean it's right."
Their conversation became indistinct until Tommy was leaving a few minutes later. 
Joel said, “I’ll leave it unlocked.  You can stay upstairs.” 
The front door opened and closed. 
—------
You weren't planning on it but as soon as the front door began to close, your legs carried you into Joel's bathroom, and your shaking hand closed the door. You sat on the tiled floor against the door. Your heart pounded. Joel would never do anything to hurt you. Why was your body reacting this way? Your eyes felt weak. You didn't want him to see you scared or upset, but this couldn't be much better. You closed your eyes and tried to get back to that place you were in the orchard where everything in the universe made sense. 
Joel came into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. "Aw, baby" he said to himself as he realized where you were.  He took off his pants and put the gun back in the drawer, then approached the bathroom door. "You in there, peaches?” 
“Yeah,” you managed weakly. 
“Can I come in?” Joel tried to open the door and found it was locked.
“Not now.” You wanted to stop crying first. 
After a moment of silence, he slid down the other side of the door and sat down.  “Can ya talk to me, baby?”
You sniffled, then whined, “I dunno what to say.” 
Joel sighed and you heard the soft thud of his head resting against the other side of the door. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you whimpered.
“We’re a family now, baby. Gotta work through whatever you’re feelin’.” 
You scooted back and slowly opened the door. 
Joel came in and sat on the tile next to you, your backs against the door.  He stroked your thigh. His voice was soft. “Wanna come back to bed or wanna talk in here?”
“Here.”
“Okay,” he whispered. He was studying your eyes, desperate to read them. 
You winced with a cramp and put your hand where it hurt.  He went to get you a pill and came back.  He handed you the pill and a glass of water. “Want me to run you a bath?”
You shook your head no.  You didn't need a third bath.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“What’s wrong?” you repeated. 
You looked at him, hating the fact that he was going to make you ask him. Earlier, you said you didn't want to know. You wanted it to stay an abstract, romantic concept that he would kill for you. But the way Tommy was talking, you felt like you needed something. You felt like you needed to know Joel better.
Joel took a deep breath in through his nose.  His voice was soft and careful.  “Tommy’s my brother, and I love’m, but .. .sometimes, brothers. . . .” He was searching for words, and at the same time, searching your face for an out.  He gave up and his voice dropped an octave. “What’d ya hear, darlin’?”
You heard the words come out of your mouth before you could stop them. "How'd you kill him?" 
Joel squinted and searched your face. “Who?”
“What happened to Jesse?” you asked. Joel looked up at the ceiling and his nostrils flared. His chest expanded with a calming breath. You continued, “I don’t care about him at all. I don’t even care if you killed him but I wanna know."
"Thought ya didn't wanna know."
"Now I do." 
“I dunno if that’s a good idea, peaches.” 
“You said you’d do anything for me. This is what I need, I need you to tell me.” 
Joel sighed and swallowed, then nodded.  “There was an accident.”
"What kind of accident?"
"He fell." 
“What? Like from a tree?”
“No, when he was diggin’.”  
You felt lightheaded imagining the garden beds, and the way Joel tucked the pumpkin flower behind your ear. Something told you he was still out there. You tried not to show anything on your face. 
You asked, “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“‘Cause it was my fault. I scared him. Didn't want ya to be afraid."   
“What happened?“
“Won’t do ya any good knowin’ that, darlin’.” Joel sighed.  “Might make ya feel bad.” 
“I don’t care, just tell me.” What bothered you was that it wasn't even serious with the boy. It was nothing like it was with Joel. So Joel didn't have to do whatever he did. All Joel had to do was love you and you would've dropped everything else in an instant. All Joel had to do was hug you.  You really believed that. 
“He was gonna hurt ya, darlin'."  You found that hard to believe, but heard him out.  You reflexively squinted but tried not to look too skeptical.
"Hurt me how."
“He was talkin’ like. . . he was talkin’ disrespectful.”
Your face burned, thoughts flying around in your head about what he possibly could have said.  
Joel did a double take at your face and noticed how embarrassed you were. “Darlin’, you really don’t need to be hearin’ this.” 
“Just tell me.” 
"So when he tried to touch ya. . .” 
“You were watching us?”
“I was worried, darlin’. Just lookin’ out for ya.” 
“So you saw me stop it, then.” 
“Sure did, and I was proud of ya.” There was nothing to be proud of.  It wasn't on any moral grounds, you were just nervous in Joel's orchard. And apparently, you had every reason to be. 
“So what happened?”
“So, next time we were workin', it came up again. . ." 
Your mouth felt dry. 
Joel continued, "I told him that’s not how to treat a woman, that you deserved better.” 
Your heart pounded. “And you were really mad, that's why he fell.”
Joel nodded, and you nodded.  You could picture the rest of it, but you didn't want to. You imagined that when he fell, that wasn't the end of it. 
You took his hand. “Thank you for telling me.”
Joel kissed your hand and breathed a sigh of relief. 
“And thanks for doing that," you added.
Joel squinted at you, taken aback. “Doin’ what, darlin’?”
“Whatever you had to do. . . for me.”
Joel studied your face as though it might have been a trick.  It wasn’t. He slowly nodded.  He kissed your hand again.  “You don’t hate me.”
“Of course I don’t hate you, I love you.”
Joel’s eyes watered.  “This is true love, baby. Unconditional.” 
You asked, “Can I ask you something else?” 
“Anything, peaches.” 
"Who else?”
"Uh," Joel squinted. 
"I asked you how you killed him, and you asked who." 
"Oh, darlin'," he chuckled. 
"Did Abe really leave?"
Joel inhaled then puffed out his cheeks as he let out the breath and hesitantly shook his head no.  
“He was in bad shape when I found him.  Gettin’ sick, talkin’ crazy..” 
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were already scared. . . didn’t wanna make it worse.” 
You barely nodded, trying to process all this, wondering if there was more to it, but consciously pushing the thought away.  You wondered whether you would've been more or less scared if you knew something happened to Abe. 
"You're a smart girl, peaches." 
“What’d Tommy mean when he said you’re dangerous?”
Joel wiggled his jaw and looked away, then back at you.  “I’ve made some mistakes.  Used to let my temper get the best of me.”  He looked down. “Don’t drink like I used to.”  
He scooted around on the tile to face you. He picked up both your hands and looked at you with big, pleading eyes.  “But no matter what, you gotta believe I would never, ever hurt you, baby." His eyes were glistening. "There’s no part'a me that would. I’d sooner hurt myself.” 
You looked at his mouth and just as you saw the smallest quiver, he wet his lips and swallowed.
You whispered, “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”  
“Good.” He sighed in relief. 
You took your hands away and tightened the flannel around you, then said, “and you wouldn’t hurt anyone I love, because that would hurt me."
Joel swallowed and inhaled through his nose, waiting uncomfortably for you to continue.  
You looked at each other for a few seconds, then you asked, “Are Bill and Frank gonna be okay here?”
He looked away, then back at you before muttering, “I hope so, darlin'.” 
“Even if we can't be together right away?”
Joel squinted at you incredulously.  “What're you talkin’ ‘bout, can’t be together?" He scoffed coldly, making your temples hurt. "I’m sure as hell not lettin’ Tommy tell me what to do. You gonna let them tell you what to do?”  
“No. . .” You didn’t know what else to say. 
“We talked about this, darlin’. You change your mind?”
You shook your head.  “Guess I’m still nervous. Thought maybe it'd take time." 
Joel clenched his jaw, opened his mouth to speak. Then closed it again. When he did speak, he was calm and measured.  “There’s no scenario where we’re not together, peaches." He raised his eyebrows at you and added flatly, "We promised each other forever.”
“I know,” you whispered. 
“And I meant it,” he added with a hint of accusation. 
You protested, “I did, too.” You did. 
"Well I still mean it."
"I do, too." You weren't lying. Somehow, you didn't want it any less. If anything, your heart wanted it more. You wondered if you went too far in your questions. 
He pried your hands off the flannel to hold them. You tried to relax but your hands were still tense. 
He dipped his head to make eye contact with you and didn't blink. “You and me together. No matter what.” He closed his eyes for a breath and sighed. When his eyes met yours again, he added, “No matter where.”
Your heart fluttered.“No matter where?”
He nodded with a deep inhale through his nose. His eyes wandered, then found yours again. “yeah, no matter where."
This tugged at your heart. Was he really willing to take you out? 
"There's another town . . . Ain't easy gettin’ there, but I reckon if we're real careful. . .”
You pondered it silently.  You wanted to see the world outside, but you never thought about moving. You wanted to live with Joel on this land forever, but you wanted your parents to be okay, too.  Leaving altogether seemed so sudden, so huge. 
You asked, “Really? You would take me out?”
“Scares me to death,” he admitted. "But I just wanna be with you, peaches."
You stayed quiet for a minute. 
"Ain't right they kept ya here all your life," he muttered. 
The thought of leaving forever was scary, but if that's what it took to keep your parents safe, you would. Joel was your home anyway. You could feel at home anywhere with him. 
You asked, “Would I get to say goodbye?”
His mouth tensed and he looked at the floor.
"Not out loud," you conceded. "But could I see them again first?"
He was quiet, reading your face. "If that's what ya need," he nodded somberly. 
“Spend a little time with them?” You asked. 
“How much time?” Joel countered. 
“I don’t know, a few days?”
“You wanna be apart that long?”
“No, but. . . no”
Joel sighed. “Let’s figure this out tomorrow, k?” 
He cradled your head and whispered, “We’ll figure it out.” He pressed his lips into yours, giving you the slowest, most tender kiss.  He pulled back and your eyes clouded up.  
“I love you,” you whispered. “More than anything.”
He nodded, tears in his eyes. 
You added, “And there’s no ‘but’. I’ll go anywhere to be with you.” 
He pulled you into straddling him. Your arms wrapped around him all on their own and you were soothed. It was true, you had given him everything. You were hollow without it, without him. But up against his body, wrapped in his big arms, you felt complete again. You felt safe. 
You could feel his manhood beneath you, warm and soft. He hugged you tight and drew in a ragged breath. He held you and stroked your head for a minute. His cock hardened a little with your crotch against it.  You were beginning to feel the painkiller. “Sorry, baby,” he whispered.  You yawned.  “Thought we’d have more time.”  The front door opened, and you flinched. 
“Just Tommy," Joel whispered. "He’s gonna stay upstairs tonight, okay?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Let’s go to bed, baby.” 
You braced yourself with your hands on his shoulders and stood up. He hooked his thumbs under the flannel collar to help you take it off, but you pulled it tighter around yourself.
Joel pulled his hands away, then rubbed your back. "Okay, darlin'." 
You got in bed, curled up on your side. Joel draped his arm over you and asked, “this okay?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded and loosely laced your fingers with his in front of you. 
“‘S’gonna be fine, baby. We’ll figure it out.” 
“I don’t wanna be apart,” you sniffled. 
“We’re not gonna be,” he reassured you.  “Ever.” 
-----
THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER. AND YOU WILL HAVE MORE SEX.
However, this is on soft hiatus until after Halloween unless i really feel like putting out the next chapter. Too many seasonal things to cook.
Thank you so much for reading and engaging <3
I'll reblog or comment with Lincoln tag list.
@toxicfics for notifications. The tag list is not long for this world.
All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading
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erinwantstowrite · 2 months
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MANNN,,,, i just thought about Peter with a tooth gap and now I need to include it in at least ONE other au,,, maybe the One Piece au,,, or the Psych au,,,,
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konigsblog · 4 months
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This, but with Stepdad!Simon Riley and his stepdaughter... (🌽 link)
;Being humped by your stepdad.
PHOTO CREDIT: AVE661
TW/CW: SMUT, STEPCEST, DUB-CON AGE DIFFERENCE/GAP (20s - 40s) — DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. MDNI 18+
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At the end of the day, can you really blame your stepfather for his perversity? You prance around the house in tiny skirts and revealing dresses, wearing nothing but your panties and thongs beneath the fabric. Of course, Simon is eager to see more, to admire and touch that soft and wet pussy. To Simon, it feels as if what you're doing is purposeful, like you're riling him up. Perhaps you need to be taught a proper lesson on how to behave, yeah?
You're easy to coerce and convince. It doesn't take very long before Simon has you choking on your words and unable to defend and protect yourself, despite being taught by the best about your safety. You slowly and nervously lift your skirt up for him, ashamed of what you're going to do, or let Simon do. You're disgusted at the realisation and intrusive, horrifying thoughts rushing through your filthy mind, scarring you as Simon begins to slide himself into your folds, easing into the tightness of your cunt while pushing you against his big lap. He's secretive about it. He's learnt how to hide his gross touch beneath the dining table during dinners with your mother, questioning you about college to hear the shakiness in your voice, the way you barely manage to get the words out coherently. Only when she leaves to water the plants outside or finishes off the dishes does Simon have privacy with his beloved girl.
You're special to Simon, you give him energy and remind him of his younger days, when he was in his twenties, just like you. Although, he wasn't studying and working hard like his stepdaughter. Instead, he was out on the field, a shotgun in hand and his eyes locked on the enemy, staining his hands with another man's blood. Simon will bounce you up and down on his lap for a quickie while groaning out loudly and deeply beside your ear until you have shivers running down your spine.
Simon digs his teeth into your bare neck to leave scars and hickeys over your skin, grinding his broad hips back and forth while rubbing your clit rapidly, overstimulating you until you're biting your knuckle anxiously through horror and mortification. You have to act normal, keep your voice down as Simon rolls and rubs his swollen, puffy tip against your slick clit, until you're hyperventilating and attempting to close your legs through guilt. You breathe out shakily and grip his muscular thighs firmly, shutting your eyes tightly as you think about how you're betraying your mother's trust.
This isn't the first time Simon has taken advantage of you. It's a common occurrence, especially since you began college. All Simon craves is a young little thing like yourself to keep him young and fresh, to toy with you and take your submissiveness for granted, for his own benefit.
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jarofstyles · 1 year
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Letting Loose
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Another installment of best friend’s dadrry!!
Now.... Listen. It's filth. Straight up, but their dynamic is building so you can see some stuff starting... hehe. PLEASEEEE let us know if you want more of them. xoxo 
Check out our Patreon for 100+ exclusive writings and early access!
Part 3
Reminder that Y/N is an adult and met him as one too <3
warnings- smut, choking, spit play (sorta), daddy kink, age gap, degradation, name calling, mention of ex, jealousrry, forbidden/taboo relationship, breeding kink xoxo
----
Y/N knew what she was doing.
She was taunting him. Teasing him. Making him mad. Harry was a possessive man, and both of them knew it. He had declared her body as his multiple times, now becoming every time they had sex. And ever since Lia had gotten a girlfriend, she had been out of the house a lot more- which meant that Y/N had been in the house without the risk of her friend catching her on her knees for her father.
Harry was a generous man in all capacities. He had let her stay when her apartment flooded, had always provided food and paid for her when they all went out, left money out for them to order pizza, even paying for their trip to Cancun after graduation. But it seemed his generosity knew no bounds when it came to Y/N, unfiltered.
His hands snuck underneath his shirt, mouth connecting to her bruised neck as she finished applying her nightly skincare. Lia had gone on a ‘mountain retreat’ with her girlfriend last night and wasn’t due home for another 4 days, which Harry was taking full and complete advantage of.
With an empty house, having Y/N there felt a bit like a different universe. Harry had been indulging in his touches, grabbing at her and pulling her into his lap, swimming with her in the pool, holding her to his chest while she made breakfast. He was borderline clingy, but he knew that’s how he was when he liked someone. Attached at the hip.
When he got his divorce, he had strayed far away from this sort of thing. He had his one night stands but ultimately had decided to lay off if anything romantic since his marriage had ended up being a disaster. Lia had been the one good thing to come out of it- and he knew he was playing a dangerous game, sleeping with her best friend, but it was more than that.
That was something else that scared him. This girl, this sweet woman who had come into his life in such a way that should make him take 10 steps back, had him closer to her than ever. Closer than he had allowed himself to be with anyone else. She was just… refreshing. Invigorating. Their conversations had been enjoyable pre-sex, her mind always impressing him with the things that came out of her mouth- but now that he got to see her with almost no boundaries? His admiration for the woman had increased tenfold.
Just laying in bed talking, bringing up moral questions and things that she believed, their fingers lazily linked together as she talked with her hands and moved them about- it was one of the things he loved the most. Then there were moments like the current one, where he hadn’t given her a moment alone in the bathroom.
“H, please.” She hummed, taking the peach face toner and placing it down. “You’re making me spill.” His mouth on her neck had distracted her from the task at hand, shakily applying the toner to a cotton round as she tried to finish her routine before moisturizer. It was a very strict and thorough one.
“M’sorry.” He sighed, pulling away from her neck but making no motion fo take his hands out under her shirt. Her skin was warm and silky, stomach clenching as his hands sprawled out over it. “Just… gets to me when I see my marks on you.” He rested his cheek against hers, looking at their reflection in the mirror.
While it was apparent that he was older than her, they looked.. good. He had been surprised the first time he saw it, how she had melted into his grip and blinked into the reflection with a nod. It didn’t look like a father and daughter- thank fucking god- but it looked like they were a good looking couple. One that people would perhaps understand the gap considering they were both good looking and Harry wasn’t an old bag quite yet. He did have some graying at the temples, but Y/N had let him know how much she liked the idea of him being a ‘silver Fox’.
“I know.” She peeped, looking at them in the mirror. A dark mark resided on the curve of her jaw, the other hidden under the skirt and on her thighs. “Can’t be so careless when Lia gets back, though. Unless you want me to make up a whole story about some guy I’m seeing again. We both know how much Daddy doesn’t like that.” Her tone was teasing, a faux pout taunting him about the subject.
So, maybe, possibly, he had fucked her within an inch of her life the last time she had used that excuse. That she had blamed it on one of those stupid boys she met at the bars and said they’d gone out and done the deed in the car when in reality, the origin of the marks had been from a few days prior when she had been at Harry’s office riding him on his couch. Risky, all things considered.
His jaw set as he pulled his hands out from her top, turning her around so he could look into her eyes. “None of that. You don’t have to get so… detailed in those stories either.” He huffed. “We both know that none of those boys could give you half of what Daddy gives you. None of the orgasms, none of the pretty gifts, none of the sweetness. So I don’t want t’hear about these fake hookups.”
Y/N liked this. When he got huffy and possessive, when he got the fiery glare and clenched jaw. She loved to taunt him and make him show her just how much he hated it. “No? Those boys can’t give me what Daddy can?” Her fingers trailed over his chest, tapping over his necklace. “That’s what your appeal is, isn’t it? Being a real man. Giving me all the things they haven’t gotten the experience to do. Even if it makes you a dirty old man to show me, you will.” Her eyes sparkled with mirth, fully expecting the next move.
Harry grabbed her hips and hauled her up to sit on the sink top before tangling his hand in her hair. “Watch it.” His warning made her shiver slightly, head tilted back by the firm grip he had in her hair. “Just hours ago you were on your knees begging for this ‘dirty old man’s cock down your throat.”
Y/N keened, a giggle leaving her throat as she grabbed at his shirt and pulled him closer, legs spreading so he could stand in between them. She loved to rile him up, to watch the flame burn inside of him. Getting his possessive reaction, this jealousy fueled her. She wouldn’t go off and do anything with anyone else- there was no desire or reason to. Harry had fully satisfied her every need. It was just nice to feel desired. To see him bristle at the thought of anyone else touching her because he wanted her all to himself. “I did. And I enjoyed every second of it.” Her voice was still slightly hoarse from the act. “Don’t need to get so jealous. You know I will end up with you. M’just covering for all the marks you’re giving me.”
“Don’t like thinking about it. Y’go out and reject all of them, I know you do. But the idea of it irritates me.” He exhaled, feeling her slightly damp fingers brush under his own shirt. Her head tilted back, her face bare from any makeup and glowing from the rigorous skincare routine she had just performed and pouted slightly up at him. “Don’t give me that lip, Petal.” His thumb caught it, tugging it down slightly before it snapped back into place. “Just like it when you remember that you’re Daddy’s girl, is all.”
The softened tone made her stomach dance, leaning into his hand with a content sigh. He took such good care of her. Y/N knew that she was playing a risky game but this sort of shit was worth it. “I am. M’your girl.” She peeked up at him with her own hazy eyes, letting her fingers catch on the waistband of his shorts. “Are you going to show me that I’m yours?” Dipping them in, she felt the prickle of his hair. Neatly cropped, trimmed to perfection, he kept just enough that made her mouth water. Enough to tickle her nose when she was able to get him down all the way.
“I’m going to make sure you remember for days, sweet girl.”
—-----
The sound of skin slapping filled the warmly lit bedroom. His bedroom was a sanctuary, somewhere off limits for anyone besides him- and much to anyone else’s surprise if they knew, Y/N. Soft, warm light emanated from a vintage lamp on the bedside table, casting a gentle glow on the room while Harry looked down at the girl sprawled out underneath him, clutching the white sheets he had spent a stupid amount of money on. He only wanted the best for her and her body. Knowing she would be staying the whole week, sleeping with him the whole week, he had made arrangements to have the best of the best. To show her what was possible.
“There you go, baby. Just like that.” The depth of his voice made her shiver under him. Her cheek was pressed to his pillow, knees up and back arched as Harry took her from behind. It was the second round, her body deliciously sensitive but aching for more. Aching to please him and make him let loose on her body. A large, warm hand held her waist as he guided her back on to his cock, watching as she fucked herself on him. Pressing back into him and filling herself up, letting her ass hit his hips and ripple and move just the way he liked it.
“S’good?” She mewled, eyes hazy as she stared vacantly across the bedroom. “You like when I do this? Just want t’be a good girl for you, Daddy. Want you to feel good.” Her voice was wrecked, slurred as she had her cheek smushed against the softness of the icy white pillowcase. Her mouth watered, sure to drip in a little bit, but all the girl could do was take it. Sex had never been this good with anyone else in her life. The older man knew exactly what he was doing and how to do it.
Harry had always been such a patient, calm, controlled man since she had met him. Never raised a voice, never did a single thing inappropriately. He had played all the right cards, but since she had seen him again and everything had changed between them, she could see another part of him. A part she was desperate to help let loose.
The older man had a wildness, a depth to him that was unexplored. A taboo part of his desires that he had never allowed himself to look at. Y/N could see it, could feel it unraveling with each day she spent with him. She made him feel safe but invigorated, which was exactly what she wanted to do. This was something so wrong in theory, but it felt so right. There was no way his hand fit that perfectly on her waist for no reason. She had taunted and tugged at the seams keeping his deepest, darkest desires hidden, trying to unravel them for him. To fulfill the pieces he didn’t know had been missing.
“I do, baby. You are a good girl, my good little girl. Make me feel so fucking good. Never get enough of you, always want you with me. Want to be inside of you every single fucking day.” The man knew that if he had his own way, she would be the one he woke up to every morning and the one he went to sleep with at night. This entire week of playing house had woken up a bigger urge, a primal urge for the girl. An ownership. He was greedy and selfish, but he was loving every fucking second of it.
“You can. You can fuck me however you want, do whatever you want to me. Anything in the world. I just want to make Daddy happy.” Her voice was whiny, face rubbing against the pillow he slept with as he watched her ass recoil with each throw back of her cunt. His cock was glistening with her arousal, wet and slick from her past orgasm. She was going to have bruises on her hips, on her thighs, on her breasts from his handling of her. There would be no denying the fact that she had been fucked deep and thorough, that he had spent time and effort into making her writhe underneath him. “I’m your girl. You said it, I’m all yours to do whatever you want. Be dirty with me, Daddy. Let go. Fuck me how you want.”
Harry didn’t know how else he could want her. This much was a fantasy come alive. The sweet, tight cunt clenching over his cock was heavenly enough. Her encouragement didn’t stop, though.
“Know you're holding back from me. Tell me how much you love it. You love fucking tight, young pussy? You like the change from soulless sex with your ex wife who could barely get you half hard?” Her giggle was cut short by a harsh slap to her ass, the sting making to fall into a moan. “Mm, fuck. I love that. You do, don’t you? Know that it’s risky but you like being inside of me. M’the best pussy you’ve ever had. Admit it.” Y/N’s panting words had him clenching his jaw- mostly because she was right.
He had gone from subpar, emotionless sex to this. To an exciting, adventurous, dirty woman who he most definitely shouldn’t be sleeping with but was too addicting to the heart and to his cock. A woman he liked too much to call a friend with benefits, but was too risky to publicly announce as his girlfriend- even if he desperately wanted to.
The words had a thread snapping, his body crowding hers as he pressed his chest against her back as his cock continued the deeper thrusts, knocking her thighs together a bit more as he covered her body with his own. His hand fell flat against her pillow, a deep chuckle leaving his lips- one that sent a dangerous zing up her spine.
She had done it.
“You are. You’ve got the best cunt I’ve ever fucked, the best mouth I’ve ever fucked, and as soon as you let me in that pretty little ass? That will be mine, too. Most useful set of holes that’s ever walked through my door.” His rough tone had her moaning, success spreading through her body as his opposite hand that wasn’t keeping him up slipped under the pillow to grab her throat. “Been so nice to you when you just antagonize me. You want me to be really dirty, baby? My sweetheart wants to hear what really goes on in my mind every time I see her?”
“Yes, yes, yes. Please, Sir. Please. I want to know everything.” She was showing her hand, showing exactly how badly she wanted to know what went on in his head. “Tell me. Tell me, I wanna do it all for you.” Y/N would love it if he was a little mean, if he was a little more rough. She knew he treated her delicately because of who she was but that was exactly why she wanted him to lose it. “Treat me like your holes, Daddy.”
Harry had been slightly shocked at the words, though he shouldn't have been. Y/N had always shown that she was a dirty girl, but the depth of it was still to be discovered. It obviously went past a bit of exhibitionism.
“My sweet girl wants to be treated like a set of holes?” He laughed breathily. “Fuck. What am I going to do with you. Silly, silly girl.” He tightened the grip on the sides of her throat, feeling her squeeze around him. His thrusts increased in speed, weight bearing down on her to make her feel him everywhere. He wanted her to be engulfed in him.
“Every time you walk in that fucking door, I want to drag you away. Want you hanging off my cock every time I get the urge, because I know you’d love it. Been dirty since day fucking one, dragging me into that poolhouse and making me be a bad father. S’that what gets you off? Fucking your friend’s dad?” He snarled, breathing against her ear as his balls slapped against her cunt, getting them just as wet as he wanted.
“Y-yes, Just you, Daddy. Only ever you.” Her weak reply came out, hand covering his that held her throat. Her eyes rolled back into her head as he gave it to her good, a new level to their activities unlocked. She had peeled back another layer of the man.
“Better have fucking been. But I know you’re a slut. Just for me. S’only ever been just for me. Just like you said, hm? Needed an older man to give it to you and then you got addicted. Poor little girl. Addicted to the one cock you shouldn’t crave.” His faux sadness made her whine, slickness dripping out of her cunt. The sharp thrusts and his tight grip, how she could barely move was one of the best things she had ever experienced.
“It’s mine.” Was what escaped her. The little thing had enough energy to say that, the stimulation to her body and the slap of his balls against her clit driving her dangerously close to her second orgasm of the night.
“Is it? Oh, silly little girl. What a desperate, selfish slut. You want my cock to be all yours?” He grinned against her skin, biting against her neck as he groaned. “It can be. You can have it. Drain me so fucking good, take all my cum so well, hm? S’what you deserve. Be a little set of holes for Daddy to stuff his cum into. You’re so good at it a-already. Fuck.” He hissed as he felt her cunt contracting, close to her orgasm. He could feel it, feel how close he had gotten her.
“You’re going to cum from that? God, look at you. Thought you were such a nice girl when my daughter first brought you home. Now you’re just a pretty cunt for me to cum inside. Think m’gonna keep you, though.” His prick was so wet it almost slipped out as his hips slammed into her, her quivering cunt urging him on. “Think I should make you stay. Should get my cum nice and deep and knock you up. What d’you think?” His grunted words sent her into a squirm, nodding reverently against his hand.
“Yeah- yeah, I’d want it. Can do it, keep me.” She babbled, eyes watering as she felt completely and utterly pathetic. The larger man was giving it to her just how she needed, the lightheadedness of his fingers rhythmically squeezing her neck and his dick fucking her better than any other thing she had felt having her right on the edge.
“Yeah? Gonna take my cum and give me a baby?” He laughed, drunk on pleasure. “That’s it. M’gonna do it. Drain my cum into your pussy and mark you as mine. Let it catch, let you get full of my baby and let everyone fuckin’ know who’s girl you are. F-Fuck, baby.. Please.” He grit out, mouth opening as he felt it. He could feel her falling over the edge, a broken moan escaping her swollen lips as he body squirmed underneath his own.
She gushed around his cock, whimpering out his name as the words and his actions had her falling over the crest. The slick, filthy sound of her drippy cunt being pounded by his cock and the grunts coming from the man above her filled the room as she could feel him finally starting to crack. His arm quivered, cock twitching in her pulsating pussy as he finally unloaded inside of her.
“Oh- oh my god, fuck.” He slurred out against her shoulder, biting down and getting a squeal from her as he growled against her skin. The most feral he’d ever been. His thrusts slowed but didn’t completely stop, Harry hellbent on fucking his cum as well into her as he could. He wanted her filled. Releasing the skin with his teeth, his tongue ran over the bite mark in apology, a grove of whispers growing from his lips.
“There we go. That’s my fucking girl.”
“Took me so good.”
“Wrecking me, m’so obsessed with you.”
“So proud of you.”
“Take such good care of me, sweet girl.”
They were followed with kisses, Harry lazily turning her head and connecting their mouths despite the odd angle as he finally stopped, letting himself stay buried inside of her. He could feel she had drooled a little bit, fueling his ego as he let them both cal down from the aftershocks of their orgasms.
“Mmm.. That’s what I’m talking about.” Y/N giggled tiredly, resting her cheek back against the pillow as he stroked the sweaty hair away from her face. “Told you I wanted you to let loose, that’s what I wanted. My god.” It was so good, she felt drunk. Drunk on good dick, apparnetly.
“Yeah.. well now you’re in trouble.” He mumbled, though the smile on his face indicated it wasn’t seriousl. “Didn’t know I had that in me… But now that I do, you’re the one who’s going to have t’deal with it.” He kissed her cheek, smirking to himself about how it had been so good she had let tears fall. This was a new high for him.
“I better be. We established that I’m yours and you’re mine. If I find out otherwise, m’gonna chop your dick off.”
Harry winced, shaking his head quickly. “No, baby. No. Don’t think I could get hard for anyone else at this point.” It was too true.
This girl had him completely and utterly fucked.
“Let me sit here for a minute and then I’ll take us to clean up. I’ll help you redo all your skin stuff.” He nuzzled against her cheek, placing a few little pecks on the hot skin. “Sorry I ruined it.”
“Trust me- I am never going to be mad at you for that when you fuck me that good.” Y/N snickered. Her heart did swell at the offer though. This man was unreal. “I’d be a fool to complain.”
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yandere-writer-momo · 5 months
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Hey pookie dookie! Just wondering if you could give us some kanji Igari smut because we love that old tic tac toe looking man✌️😘 thanks boo!!
Yandere Baki Shorts:
Dirty Old Man
Yandere Kanji Igari x Younger Fem Reader
TW: Old Man Pussy, smut, slight yandere, age gap, and obsessive themes
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A large palm held (your name)’s foot steady so Igari could paint her nails powder blue. A satisfied smile on his lips.
“I knew you’d look lovely in blue.” Igari glanced up at (your name), who remained seated in her chair. “Don’t you think so, darling?”
(Your name) nodded her head. Since she had moved to Japan, she didn’t expect this older man to be the one to take interest in her. Let alone a famous wrestler. Kanji Igari was a handsome man despite the scars across his face and he had deep pockets, why would (your name) say no? Especially when he was so adamant on being with her. She’s never been pursued like she was a prize to be won before… it was exciting.
Igari would shower her with bouquets of flowers and various gifts of jewelry. Necklaces, bracelets, and earrings that (your name) had always dreamed to be able to afford were now all in her possession. Igari was kind of like an old penguin in her eyes. A penguin that gave her luxuries instead of pebbles, but a penguin nonetheless. Especially since he was always in a suit. What a cutie!
Plus, Igari offered her a treat far better than any before him… his experience. Igari knew how to not only love someone, but he knew how to fuck. Which may have been a bit of a vulgar term to use, but (your name) couldn’t think of any other way to describe the way Igari made love.
Igari’s face was almost always buried between her legs to eat her out as if it were his last meal. Despite Igari being nearly twice her age, his sexual appetite was as insatiable as a man in his twenties.
And after every tryst, Igari always made sure to pamper her. Whether it was a warm bath together, a massage, a manicure, or a pedicure, Igari would perform each action for (your name) no matter how small. The man never made her feel anything less than a princess. It was his signature aftercare.
“I made sure it matched my suit.” Igari’s deep voice brought her back to reality, his eyes filled with lust. (Your name) shivered when he guided the sole of the foot to his shoulder. Powder blue… his favorite shade.
Igari pressed a soft kiss on her shin, his dark eyes stared up into hers. “You’re so soft, darling. Practically delectable.”
(Your name) squeaked when Igari ran his tongue up her leg until he stopped at her inner thigh. His dark eyes held a pleading look in them while his hand cupped her legs.
“What a dirty old man you are.” Igari hissed when she pressed her foot on his prominent bulge. “Rubbing up on me after a pedicure. Will you repaint my toes if you mess them up?”
“Of course.” Igari let out a soft moan when (your name) pressed her foot a little harder against him. “Whatever you want… I’ll do it.”
(Your name) quickly began to pull at her waistband, but Igari beat her. His thick fingers yanked down the fabric before he released a low whistle.
“No panties? It’s like you knew I wanted you to be easier to access.” (Your name) threw her arms around Igari and pressed her lips against his in a hungry kiss.
“Is it a crime to want my man to ravish me?” Igari growled, his hands scooped up under her bottom to pick her body up. (Your name) automatically wrapped her legs around his muscular waist, the man rushed her to the kitchen.
“You’re such a good girl…” Igari set her body down on the counter while he began to unfasten his pants Igari popped two fingers into his mouth before he ran them up and down her damp slit . “I want you right now.”
(Your name) was suddenly swung around so that her upper half was draped over the counter. Igari quickly stuffed himself inside, a loud hiss escaped his lips.
“Feels so good.” Igari hissed, his large hands held up (your name)’s hips so that she wasn’t on the floor. Her legs dangled above the floor like she was a doll.
(Your name) could only whimper when Igari gave an experimental roll of his hips, his signature smirk on his face. “Does that feel good, baby? If you use sweet words, I’ll be gentle.”
“I don’t want you to be gentle-“ (your name) gasped when Igari slammed his hips into hers in a brutal pace. His heavy balls smacked against the fat of her ass, her hands held onto the counter for dear life while her feet swung back and forth like a swing from the force he exerted.
Igari sung her praises in her ears while he pressed sloppy kisses to her shoulder. Her eyes rolled back into her head as he continued his demonstrations. (Your name)’s body was still sore from their earlier tryst yet she succumbed to the pleasure.
Igari moved one of his hands to grasp the throat while the other moved to rest between her legs. His thumb rubbed clockwise circles on her neglected clit while his pace never ceased. (Your name)’s body began to tense up as the end drew near.
Igari pressed kisses on her tear stricken cheeks, his low voice whispered lovingly in her ear, “I’m close… I’m really close.”
(Your name) tilted her head back and pressed her lips against Igari’s, the older man melted into her in an instant. His arms held her tighter as his hips stilled and a molten warmth filled her womb. Her walls fluttered around him mere seconds later from her own release.
“I love you… I love you so much.” Igari pulled away from the kiss to place loving pecks all over her face.
Igari lowered her gently to the ground as if she were made of glass. His eyes admired his handiwork. “You’re swollen and puffy now… just the way I like.”
(Your name) smiled at her lover, her finger reached out to poke at his lips. “Dirty old man.”
“But I’m your dirty old man.” Igari gave her a warm smile. “Till the day I die.”
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joelmillermylove · 3 days
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The familiar stranger Pt.1
dbf!Joel miller x f!reader
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Summary: Joel Miller your dads best friend can’t control himself around you anymore, he makes a move and things heat up. Warning: Smutty themes, age gap (reader in her mid 20s, Joel in his late 40s). Forbidden love, sexual tension. Word count: 2,915 A/N: I’m so proud of this one🥹 Hope everyone loves it as much as I do! Part 2 coming soon!
The summer heat was relentless, pressing down on you with an almost physical weight as you sat on the front porch of your father’s house, the squeak of the rocking chair the only sound in the heavy air. The air conditioner hummed softly inside, but out here, it was still and quiet, save for the occasional call of a bird in the distance.
You lifted the bottle of cold beer to your lips, savoring the brief relief from the heat as the cool glass pressed against your skin. It was a Saturday afternoon like any other, lazy and unhurried, until the sound of tires crunching on the gravel drive pulled your attention. A familiar beat-up truck came into view, dust kicking up as it rolled to a stop.
Joel.
He stepped out of the truck with a heavy grunt, his broad shoulders tensed as if already bracing for whatever task your father had roped him into this time. His plaid shirt clung to him in the heat, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the strong forearms you couldn’t help but notice. It was impossible not to. Joel Miller wasn’t the kind of man who blended into the background—he took up space, his presence commanding without even trying.
For as long as you could remember, Joel had been a constant in your life. He was your father’s best friend, the one who helped out around the house when your dad needed an extra hand, the one who was there for every barbecue, every fishing trip, every birthday. He had always been there—solid, reliable, a fixture in your world.
And yet, lately, something had shifted.
It wasn’t him, not exactly. Joel was the same as ever—gruff, quiet, protective in that silent way of his. But you had changed. You weren’t the little girl he used to tease about your pigtails and scraped knees. You weren’t the teenager who had asked him to teach you how to change a tire just so you could feel like you knew something about the world.
You were an adult now, and the way you looked at Joel had shifted into something you didn’t fully understand. Something you weren’t entirely comfortable with.
He looked up, his eyes catching yours as he slammed the truck door shut. There was a moment, a beat too long where neither of you looked away, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his gaze, something that made your skin prickle with an awareness you hadn’t asked for.
“Hey,” he called out, his voice that familiar low rumble that always seemed to settle somewhere deep in your chest. “Your dad home?”
You shook your head, clearing your throat to push past the tightness. “Ran into town for a few things. Should be back in a bit.”
Joel nodded, glancing around before stepping onto the porch. He moved with the kind of ease that came with years of knowing exactly where everything was—your father’s house was as much his as it was your family’s, it seemed. He dropped into the chair beside yours with a groan, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
Silence settled between you, comfortable but heavy in a way it hadn’t been before. You tried to focus on anything else—the way the sun filtered through the trees, the faint rustle of the breeze—but your eyes kept drifting back to Joel. To the lines at the corners of his eyes, the way his hand rested on his thigh, strong and steady.
“How’s work?” you asked, if only to break the silence that felt like it might swallow you whole.
He shrugged, taking a swig of his own beer. “Busy. Always busy.”
You nodded, not really sure what else to say. Joel wasn’t one for small talk, and in truth, you weren’t either. But something in the air felt thick, weighted, like there was something unsaid hovering just beneath the surface. Something that had been building for weeks now, maybe longer.
“You been alright?” he asked suddenly, his voice softer, more careful than you were used to hearing from him.
You blinked, taken off guard by the question. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
He turned his head, looking at you fully now, and there was that same intensity in his gaze that made your pulse quicken. “Dunno. You just seem…different lately.”
You swallowed, unsure how to respond to that. Because you were different, weren’t you? You couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, the lines had started to blur. The way you looked at Joel wasn’t the way a daughter looked at her father’s best friend anymore. And that scared you, more than you wanted to admit.
“I’m fine,” you repeated, but even to your ears, it sounded weak.
Joel’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he looked away, setting his beer down on the porch railing. “Good,” he muttered, almost as if to himself. “That’s good.”
The silence stretched out again, and this time it was unbearable. You stood, needing to move, to get away from the sudden weight of the moment.
“I should go inside, see if Dad needs help when he gets back,” you said, more of an excuse than anything else.
Joel’s hand reached out, fingers brushing lightly against your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. The touch was fleeting, barely there, but it sent a shock through you all the same. You froze, looking down at his hand, then back up at his face.
“Wait,” he said softly, his voice a low murmur that thrummed through the air between you.
You didn’t move. You couldn’t. The world seemed to narrow to just this—just the space between you, the heat of his touch, the way his eyes searched yours as if looking for something he wasn’t sure he wanted to find.
Neither of you spoke. Neither of you moved. But in that stillness, in that silence, something shifted. Something irrevocable.
Joel’s fingers lingered on your wrist just a second too long before he pulled away. It was subtle, but it was enough to leave you reeling, the warmth of his touch burning into your skin as if it had branded you. You stood there, frozen, caught between a hundred different feelings that made no sense, each one pulling you in a different direction.
You wanted to ask him what that meant—what that touch meant. But you didn’t trust yourself to say the right thing. You didn’t trust your voice not to tremble. So instead, you muttered something about needing to grab a glass of water and hurried into the house, the screen door slamming shut behind you.
Inside, the cool air did little to calm the storm raging in your chest. You leaned against the kitchen counter, trying to catch your breath. The beat of your heart was loud, too loud, and your thoughts were a mess—Joel’s touch, the way he had looked at you, the weight of the moment that had passed between you like a live wire.
What the hell was that?
You didn’t want to think about it. But how could you not? There had always been something about Joel—something you couldn’t quite put into words. He wasn’t just your father’s best friend anymore, not to you. He hadn’t been for a long time.
You ran the tap and splashed cold water on your face, hoping it might snap you out of the thoughts swirling in your head. The water dripped down your neck, cool but not nearly enough to shake the feeling that had settled deep inside you.
Joel was still outside. You could see him through the window, his elbows resting on his knees as he sat on the porch, his head bent forward. From here, he looked tired—more tired than you were used to seeing him. He always had that quiet strength, that sense of reliability, but today, it felt like there was a heaviness in him you hadn’t noticed before.
You sighed and turned away from the window, trying to distance yourself from the pull you felt toward him. But it was impossible to ignore.
Just as you were about to retreat to your room, you heard the front door creak open behind you. You didn’t turn around right away, didn’t want to face him, not after what had just happened. But his voice reached you before anything else did, low and soft.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
You nodded quickly, pretending to busy yourself with drying your hands. “Yeah, just needed a minute.”
A long pause filled the space between you before Joel’s footsteps sounded softly against the kitchen floor. You felt him before you saw him, the presence of him behind you like a magnetic force you couldn’t escape. He didn’t say anything right away, and that only made the tension thicker.
When you finally turned to face him, you found him watching you with an intensity that made your throat go dry. His hands were in his pockets, but his body was tense, as if he was holding himself back.
“You seem… off,” he said quietly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Did I—”
“No.” You cut him off too quickly, shaking your head. “No, you didn’t do anything.”
His brow furrowed slightly, unconvinced. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” you lied, though you weren’t sure of anything anymore. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue because you knew that both of you were aware of what was left unsaid.
Joel’s voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again. “You know, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.”
Your breath hitched at the closeness of him, the gentleness of his tone. The Joel you knew wasn’t this soft, wasn’t this careful. And it was that softness, that care, that made your heart ache in a way you didn’t want to acknowledge.
“I—” You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “It’s nothing, Joel. Really.”
But he didn’t back off. His eyes searched yours, his brow still furrowed in concern, but there was something else there, something that made your stomach twist in a way that both terrified and thrilled you. You’d never seen him look at you like that before. And it made it impossible to breathe.
The silence stretched, thick and heavy, until Joel exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Damn it, kid,” he muttered, and for the first time, there was something raw in his voice—something that made your chest tighten.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” you blurted, the words coming out sharper than you intended. “I’m not.”
Joel’s eyes snapped to yours, and the tension in the room shifted again. This time, it was darker, more dangerous. He didn’t move, but the way he looked at you now wasn’t the way a man looked at someone he thought of as a kid. It was the way a man looked at something he knew he shouldn’t want.
But the worst part was that you wanted him to look at you that way. You’d wanted it for longer than you cared to admit, and now that it was happening, you didn’t know how to handle it.
“I know that,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Trust me, I know.”
He stepped closer and your pulse quickened. He wasn’t touching you yet, but the space between you was chargerd, like a live wire about to spark. You could feel his eyes on you, lingering in a way that sent heat coursing through your body, pooling low in your belly.
“This isn’t….” His voice was rough, as if the words were difficult to push out. “This isn’t a good idea”.
But he didn’t stop moving towards you and you didn’t back away, You should have. You knew you should have.
This was Joel, your dads best friend. There were lines you weren’t supposed to cross. But the way he was looking at you, the way his breath hitched when he got closer, it made it impossible to think clearly.
“I know” you whispered, but your body betrayed you, leaning toward him, drawn in like you were powerless to stop it. 
His hand came up, hesitating for just a moment before his fingers brushed your arm, trailing a path of heat as he slid them up towards your shoulder. The touch was light, barley there, but it was enough to make you shiver, your breath catching in your throat.
“Damn it” he muttered and before you could react he closed the distance between you his body pressing against yours, pinning you against the counter. His hand gripped your was it, firm and possessive, like he had been holding back for too long and couldn’t anymore.
The sudden closeness stole the air from your lungs and for a moment neither of you moved. His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot and ragged as it ghosted over your lips. Your heart pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it, feel it, the way your chest rose and fell with every shallow breath.
“You’re so beautiful” he murmured, his grip on you tightened, his hand sliding around to the small of your back, pulling you even closer.
All you could do was stand there, caught in the heat of the moment, in the way his body felt pressed against yours, in the way your body ached for more.
Slowly you lifted your hands to his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt, smelling his intoxicating cologne. His breath hitched at your touch and that small sound, that tiny moment of weakness made your pulse race. You wanted more, needed more.
“Joel…” you whispered again, but this time it wasn’t a warning. it was a plea. 
His eyes darkened, is jaw clenched tight as he stared down at you, like he was on the verge of something dangerous, something he couldn’t take back. His thumb brushed your cheek, his touch gentle despite the storm of emotions raging between you.
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into darlin” he said voice hoarse, almost broken. But his eyes flicked to your lips and you could feel the tension rising, the air between you crackling with need.
“I know what exactly what im doing Joel” you breathed, your fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer.
That was all it took.
With a loud growl, Joels mouth crashed against yours and it was like a dam breaking. This kiss was hungry, desperate, as if both of you had been holding back for too long and couldn’t bear it anymore. His hands roamed over your body, rough and urgent, as if he needed to feel every inch of you beneath his touch.
You gasped into his mouth, your hands sliding up to wrap around his neck, pulling him even closer, deeper. His tongue parted your lips, the taste of him overwhelming your senses as he kissed you like a man starved, like he couldn’t get enough,
Every touch, every kiss sent a jolt of electricity through you and you arched against him, your body instinctively seeking more, craving the heat and weight of him. His hands slid under your shirt, calloused fingers grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
“You feel so damn good sweetheart” he groaned against your lips, his voice rough and desperate as he kissed his way down your jaw, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp.
Your head tilted back, giving him more access as he moved lower, his mouth hot against the sensitive skin of your neck. Every brush of his lips, every scrape of his teeth made you dizzy, made you ache for more.
But just as quickly as it had started, Joel pulled back, his chest heaving as he stared down at you with wild, dark eyes.
“Wait…” his voice strained, his forehead resting against yours again as he struggled to catch his breath. “We shouldn’t do this” 
You were both breathless, your bodies still pressed together, the heat between you palpable, overwhelming.
“I don’t care” you whispered, your hands still clutching his shirt, unwilling to let him go.
“Fuck” he says under his breath, his fingers digging into your waist was like he was fighting a battle with himself, torn between what he knew was right and what his body wanted.
For a moment, it seemed like he was going to give in. His lips hovered dangerously close to yours again, his breath hot against your skin. But then, with groan of frustration, he pulled away, stepping back as if putting distance between you was the only way to keep himself from losing control completely.
“I can’t” he said, voice tight, like it hurt to say the words. “Not like this”
You stood there, chest heaving, heart racing, the taste of him still on your lips, your body aching from the sudden loss of contact.
And then, without another word, Joel turned and walked out, leaving you alone in the kitchen, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break.
You leaned against the counter, your head spinning, your body still humming with the memory of his touch. 
Things had gone too far. There was no going back now and that was okay with you.
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hanasnx · 8 months
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MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: based on the tags on this post
"All the way down, baby, let me see it." HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN purrs, drunk on lusts as his gaze greedily guzzles down the sight of your ass stuck up in the air when you arch your back. Your cheek obediently presses to the mattress and a low groan vibrates from the base of his throat. A large hand smooths over a globe, giving it a loving squeeze. "Atta girl." he breathes, and rolls his tongue between his lips watching your folds part for him and glisten in the dim light. His warm presence approaches you, you can feel his exhale against your sensitive hole and his nose brush the inside of your ass cheek. Like he's done it a thousand times before, he shoots a gob of spit onto the crest of your pussy, letting it slide down to lubricate the slit. That specific sound of how he spits causes you to quiver, clawing into the sheets when that familiar sting electrocutes your insides in preparation for what's to come.
"You like that, sweetheart?" he asks as fingertips graze your folds, and you jolt in response. The very edge of his nail scrapes against you gently when you move, you whimper at the feeling. "Fuck, wish you could see what you're doing to me." If you could, you would see a proud standing cock waiting to fill you up. "You want this? You want me?" he asks, and you nod, squishing your cheek up against the mattress as you do, babbling eager "mhm's." Another groan from him ripples up your spine, and when that hand comes down onto your asscheek, an influx of cream floods your desperate hole, seeping from the opening to mix with his spit. "C'mere, then. Let me give it to you." he whispers as he slides his palm over your tailbone, pressing you back into him as he stands on his knees, feeding his swollen head right into your cunt.
You cry out at the stretch, his fist at his base banging against your thighs when he sinks in. The way he didn't give you time to accommodate him makes you wetter, rocking back on him unconsciously to take advantage of that delicious stinging sensation while you still have it. "Fuckin' Christ, baby, you drive me crazy." he hisses while he's pushing you into him, spearing you on his long cock with his steadying hand on your tailbone. Picking up the pace gets you to start bouncing on him, ass and thighs jiggling from the impact as mixed fluids string out.
"Don't stop, don't stop. Feels too good." you manage to sputter out, unable to keep your eyes open as he fucks your brains right out of you. At the sound of your pathetic voice, he slams into you harder, every muscle in his abdomen flexed to curl in just the way you like, making you scream into the covers. An experimental thumb ventures between your cheeks to swipe over your little asshole, fingers splayed over the dimples on your lower back. "Please, Hayden, please,"
Sharp exhales emit from his mouth shaped in an "o" as if he's working out using you, controlling his breathing for every thrust. His other hand settles on your hip to draw you back into him, and the pace is painful. His tip kisses your cervix every time he bottoms out, and after your choked sounds privy him to that information, he releases your hip, so his thumb can join the other. The two spread apart your cheeks even more, giving him a clearer view of your cunt struggling to swallow his length, and your asshole flutters from loss of his contact. "You make me feel like I'm twenty years old again, you know that? Gonna fuck you all night. Gonna fuck this young pussy all night."
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