#joel dexter

[gayboyobsessions]

Joel Dexter- Hollyoaks - 15/2/24

[cowboybuckleys]

[freddieslater]

Rita Simons playing Joel’s mum is hilarious considering his granny was her mum in EastEnders 😭

[reportwire]

The Last Of Us Episode 9 Recap: A Powerful, Haunting Finale

Screenshot: HBO Well, friends. We’ve come to the end of the road, at least for now. Episode nine of HBO’s The Last of Us is the season finale, bringing us to the end of the story told in the first game. Even the episode’s title, “Look for the Light,” neatly closes the loop opened by that of the first episode, “When You’re Lost In the Darkness.” Deeply faithful to the game’s provocative, morally…

[onionanddeadgaywizards]

straight ships only work if its:

silly pathetic man who’s obsessed with his gf prbly adhd coded X perfect amazing slightly angry girl who’s prbly autistic coded

[scaryhaven]

✨all my favorite characters are dysfunctional, or traumatized, or little weirdos, or all of the above, and i wouldn't have it any other way✨

[gordopickett]

10 characters from 10 fandoms

♥ Thanks for the tag @allatariel !!! ♥

List 10 characters from 10 fandoms.

(So, this tumblr is very much my Michael Dorman-centric tumblr, so my first thought was to name 10 of Mikey's characters lol. But for the sake of variety, I'm going to venture out & list some of my fave non-Mikey characters too.)

1) Gordo Stevens (For All Mankind -- well I had to at least put ONE of Michael's characters! :D) 2) Danny Rayburn (Bloodline) 3) Chandler Bing (Friends) 4) Harry Bosch (Bosch) 5) Will Graham (Hannibal) 6) Dexter Morgan (Dexter) 7) Rick Grimes (The Walking Dead) 8) Thomas (The Maze Runner) 9) Vince Leone (Fire Country) 10) Stephen Holder (The Killing)

I'm going to break protocol & do a list of female characters too, since that last one ending up being all males!

1) Marybeth Pickett (Joe Pickett) 2) Tracy Stevens (For All Mankind) 3) Lorelai Gilmore (Gilmore Girls) 4) Rachel Green (Friends) 5) Maddie Bosch (Bosch) 6) Liv Moore (iZombie) 7) Maggie Greene/Rhee (The Walking Dead) 8) Sally Malik (Being Human - North American version) 9) Rosalee Calvert (Grimm) 10) Frankie Paige (Love My Way)

Tagging @benwvatt @flamingo24 @rachg82 @margospiano @tiltedsyllogism

@nadia-el-mansours @marvmerchant @onekisstotakewithme @castalyne @sparkleplatypuswriter

@pyramdhead47 @roughroadhaley @lacontroller1991 @tavners @katesofheaven

@moocowmoocow @blue-ravens & anyone else who wants to play!

[g0ingb4tty]

Fuck it. (Posts my top 9 kins and leaves)

(Make assumptions abt me im bored :P)

[feedmeseemoreuk]

X-Men Reboot MCU

The Uncanny X-Men

[woahkana]

x 

[cowboybuckleys]

[isenstar777]

Being a monk is cool as hell!

We're playing a campaign influenced by The Last Of Us and had to cross two maps with trolls zombies and orcs (all infected by cordyceps) very very quietly.

With a horse and cart.

So we didn't get far.

The NPC (Joel) told us to run.

The druid turned into a horse and took the bard across the map. I just sprinted. Across two maps in two turns. 120ft per turn. Leapt over a fallen tree and a 20ftwide river

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Real Pretty

pairing: joel miller x reader

(AO3 mirror) summary: You and Joel are not in a relationship. But Joel gets jealous anyways. 

author's note: Timeline's a little hazy, au where Joel, Ellie and Y/N stay in Jackson and nothing bad happens ever. 

warnings: fluff, Joel's OOC as shit (what's new), filthy filthy smut (you have been warned), 18+ minors DNI

wc: 1.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You can't stop staring. Oh god, he's pretty. You steal a glance at him with a mouthful of food by the canteen table. He's just woken up, by the looks of it: shirt a little wrinkled and hair all over the place. With a yawn, the base of his denim shirt lifts up to expose his tan belly, right at the v-line, with a dark tuft of hair leading right down to.. 

SLAM! Ellie bangs her tray on the table and clatters into her seat. 

"You look like shit." she says with a toothy grin. 

"And you smell like shit, you little gremlin." You snap, without missing a beat. Woah. Too much, maybe. 

She just laughs, her smile a bit wider, and that glint in her eye. "Oh yeah? Well I heard that somebody had a real good night yesterday." 

You pause to give Ellie a look. A look that says she's too young and too nosy. And, most importantly: what the fuck was she talking about? 

"That guy? Paulie or Peter or what's-his-face? Heard he slept over at the clinic." 

"Huh?" you splutter, almost choking on your food. 

"Kathy's mom saw him walking out of the clinic this morning. Using the backdoor. Everyone's talking about it." she tells you like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Ellie, nothing happened. And if it did it would be none of your business."

"Uh-huuh." 

"I'm serious. Nothing. Happened. You should know better than to trust gossip. This kind of thing can be really hurtful and you're lucky I don't-" 

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Joel definitely doesn't know." 

"Joel doesn't know what?" He walks up and pulls out the chair next to you, plate of food in one hand.

"Somebody," she looks you dead in the eye. "boinked Petey last night in the clinic but doesn't want to admit it." 

That last line made you squint. Ah. Now you get it. Ellie's attempt at revenge for teasing her about a certain crush she 'doesn't want to admit'. Touché. 

"Boinked?" Joel coughs into his eggs. "Jesus, forget I asked."

~~~

Later, Joel meets you in the makeshift office of the clinic after hours. It had been surprisingly quiet considering the bustle of the previous week. So much so, that you jolt at the knock at the door. You forgot he was coming over to mend a broken cupboard. 

He comes with a toolbox and kneels by the cupboards, propping up the broken door with one hand and a screwdriver in the other. The very door you had struggled to open and close not too long ago. He had picked it up with ease, and you watched in awe as his hands took out the worn screws, dexterous and nimble. The room was so quiet, you couldn't help yourself. 

"I patched him up and worked late. He took one of the beds and was out like a light, I swear." 

"I believe you." He doesn't look up. Is he mad? Jealous, even? His face was stoic, unreadable and so you kept going. 

"I was just taking inventory. And I can handle myself, you know that or else I never would've taken the chance." 

"I know." Nothing. Again. You slump in your chair and watch him finish up in silence. 

"Sweetheart," he says, packing up. "You're thinking out loud again."

His voice is soft and it makes you melt. "Everyone thinks something happened Joel. They're gonna think I'm a slut, or something."

He pads over and kneels so he's level with you. Gently, Joel cups your cheek with one hand, and puts his hand on your thigh with the other. 

"That's because you are a slut, sweetheart."

He kneads your thighs, creeping closer and closer to your core. "You're the prettiest fuckin' slut I've ever seen." 

Your mind goes blank when Joel's like this. Voice as soft as butter whispering the filthiest shit whilst stroking your pussy. His fingers ghost over your jeans and you whimper. "I'm not a- fuck!" 

He dips his hand into your underwear. Soaking wet and he's barely touched you. He keeps it slow, drawing lazy circles around your clit whilst holding you close. 

"Don't like hearing those things about you. They don't see you -fuck - like I do. You didn't fuck him, darlin', I know that. But he wanted to. You can see it in his eyes." He's faster now, dipping a finger in and out your hole like it's his job. You hold onto his forearm to steady yourself and hump his hand. Desperately chasing your climax. 

"That's it, that's it. Good fuckin' girl. You wanna cum?" He asks and you nod your head dumbly. "Use your words, darlin'. Need'ta hear you say it."

"Yes, yes, please Joel…. wanna cum-" 

He nods and you throw your head onto his shoulder, shaking as you cum into Joel's hands. He pulls his hand out of your jeans and licks them clean with hooded eyes. He's hard, cupping himself over his trousers and rocking slightly to relieve the pressure. What a sight; Joel Miller on his knees for you, because of you. 

You grab him by the lapel of his shirt and fall into a sloppy kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. You motion to take off his shirt and start to strip yourself. When your shirt comes off he presses hot kisses into your bare skin; mumbling profanities into your collarbone and the peak of your tits. 

His pants come off and you reach to pump him; his tip red and sticky with precum. He groans and grabs your hand, lips plump and swollen from kissing you. 

"-shit, not yet," He helps you stand, and bends you over the desk, bow-legged. You're hot and sticky and desperate now, whining for him to fill you up-

-and he does, in one swift motion, without any warning or prep. "You're gonna take what I give you, ain't that right sweetheart?" 

You nod haphazardly, whining under his grip. His hips piston into you at just the right angle, so fast you're seeing stars. 

"No-one else can fuck you like I can, don't forget that. Next time, a little shit like Petey comes round, you tell him you're mine, won't you?"  You're babbling now, incoherent as pleasure builds in your gut. "All mine. All. Fuckin'. Mine." 

With that, a coil snaps, and your legs collapse under the pleasure that washes over you. Joel is quick to follow, turning you around so that when he cums on your stomach, he can see the bliss on your face. Gently, he picks you up like a blushing bride into the next room, onto one of the treatment beds. He gets a towel from the supply cupboards and cleans you up, kissing your forehead. He clambers in next to you. It's a tight fit but he manages to snake an arm around and pull you towards him. Soft breath in your ear as you both stare up at the mottled ceiling, speckled in fluorescent light. Well, he did, anyway. You turn to look at him. 

He was even prettier this close. Real pretty. 

[ilovepedro]

Over the Edge | joel miller x f!reader

Palestine - if you enjoy my work, I ask you to click on this link and help Palestine in any way you can.

Main Masterlist

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~1.2k

Summary: Joel agonizingly taunts you before pushing you over the edge.

Warnings: no outbreak, pwp, established relationship, edging, unprotected PIV (wrap it up y'all!), TW: daddy kink, oral (f!receiving), fingering, begging, soft!dom!Joel, sub!reader, dom/sub dynamic, creampie, two (2) spanks, hella pet names (angel, dollface, baby, baby girl, princess, etc), squirting, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, let me know if i missed anything! :)

A/N: hey y'all!! <3 i've been a bit down in the dumps about my writing lately so, this was just something i wrote for fun to get back into the groove :) i took some inspo from a few prompt lists such as this one and this one. this is my first ever daddy kink fic lol i'm nervous. anyway, i hope y'all enjoy! 🫶🏼 poorly self-beta'd, all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀️

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Heat pricks your skin, the mixture of the Texas heat and the man above you creates a sheen of sweat on your body. Glistening in the warm glow of the room, you writhe beneath Joel as he pins you down with his strong hands lazily swirling his tongue along your puffy, swollen clit. 

He’s been edging you for hours. A lazy Saturday spent between your legs, Joel eager to put you in your place after he’d caught you touching yourself this morning without his permission.

Eager to unravel you.

Constantly bringing you to the brink and leaving you dangling off the cliff before reeling you back in, withholding your sweet, sweet release.

Releasing your precious pearl from his mouth, he hums as he savors the flavor of you on his tongue. He presses teasing kisses along your body as he slithers up to your mouth, whines bubbling from your chest. Tears sting the corners of your eyes, the ache in your core burning brighter with every touch.

“You gonna be good for me, dollface?” Joel hums, his thick fingers hooking under your chin, bringing your gaze to meet his. His eyes are wild, blown with pure lust. A tear rolls down your cheek as you impatiently nod.

“C’mon, princess. Use your words. Wanna hear you. Lemme hear you beg for it,” he taunts.

A whine rips from your throat. Joel teases your dripping cunt with his dexterous digits, your thighs sticky and coated with slick and saliva.

Exasperated and desperate, your eyes squeeze shut as you begin to beg.

“Yes I’ll be good, just please, Joel.”

You gasp at the dull sting of a soft smack to your thigh.

“Please who?”

Your eyes snapping open as you gulp, the dull sting of the smack heightening your need, your clit furiously throbbing as a new wave of slick seeps from your cunt. 

“Daddy. Please, daddy.”

“‘S better. Now I’ll ask ya one more time – are ya gonna be good for me?”

“Yes, daddy, I promise. I promise I’ll be good, I’ll do anything you want, just please.”

“Please, what? What do ya want, princess?”

“Y-your cock. Need your cock, daddy, please,” you mewl, squirming under his hold.

He laughs, smug and satiated with your begging as his cock twitches at the sound of your neediness, your shrill moan like music to his ears. His large, rough hands skate down your body to pin your hips down, his lips brushing against your neck.

“Beggin’s a good look on ya, dollface,” Joel taunts, his thick digits fluttering around your aching core, teasingly sliding his fingers through your folds, collecting your slick. Sharply gasping at the feel of his calloused fingertips brushing against where you need him most, more tears rolling down your cheeks as you softly whimper and writhe under his broad chest.

“Shhh, shhh, easy, baby. Relax, angel. Daddy’s got ya. Gonna give ya what ya want, don’t worry, baby,” Joel says, nipping at your chin as he lines himself up with your entrance.

Joel grabs your hips to adjust the angle and slides home in one swift move, the obscene amount of slick dripping from your cunt aiding him. He places your calves on his chest, your ankles resting on his broad shoulders.

An animalistic moan claws from your throat, shredding your vocal chords as Joel fills you up, stuffing you to the brim. His cock, thick and heavy and long.

“Fuck, look so fuckin’ pretty takin’ my cock, angel,” he groans, your heat clenching around him. “Ya like when daddy fills you up, baby?” He asks, dragging his hips agonizingly slow against yours.

“Yes, daddy. Love it when you fill me up, f-feels so good,” you squeal. His pace gradually picks up, fucking deep into you, your pornographic moans growing louder and higher with every thrust as Joel grunts above you.

Squelches fill the air, your slick dripping onto the sheets as it smears in between you and Joel.

“So fuckin’ wet, ya hear how wet you are, baby girl? Who’s this all for, hmm?”

You try to tell him it’s for him, for daddy, but he’s fucking you so good, so deep, he’s taken your ability to speak. There’s another smack to your thigh, only it stings a bit more. Another broken moan rumbles from your chest, the ache fueling the fire that’s burning in your belly.

“Use your manners, baby girl, I’m talkin’ to ya. Who’s this all for?”

“You, daddy! All for you, my pussy’s yours, I’m yours,” you babble almost incoherently. 

“There we go, good girl. ‘S right, baby. All mine,” Joel smirks, placing a kiss on your calf as he hits that sweet spot. 

Your hand mindlessly finds your clit, eagerly stroking yourself until Joel swats your hand away. Releasing your legs, he leans down, practically bending you in half. Pleasure ripples throughout your body as he roughly pins your hands on each side of your head, caging you in between his taut biceps.

His thrusts grow rougher, needier. 

“Greedy. Girl,” Joel grunts, punctuating his words with his hips. 

“You don’t fuckin’ learn, do ya? What, this cock ain’t enough for ya, baby doll?”

You ferociously shake your head, whimpering as he continuously hits that sweet spot, eyelids heavy with your orgasm nearer in sight. 

“‘S enough, daddy, I swear,” you slur. Suddenly and swiftly, Joel lets go of your hands and grabs your hips, flipping over onto his back as he still sits inside you.

Hips flushed together, you sit perched atop him, straddling his strong thighs. Gasping at the newfound depth, your eyes fly open as you brace yourself on his taut chest.

“Wanna act up? Now ya gotta work for it, angel. Go on now - ride my cock, dollface. Wanna see you come all over me. Soak my fuckin’ cock, babygirl.”

He gives you a nudge, lightly bouncing you on his throbbing length. You feel him pulsing inside your warm, wet heat. A whine rips from your throat as he kisses your cervix. Mouth dry and sweat coating your body, you muster all the strength in your being as you slowly drag along his cock.

Moans ripping from each of you, the friction finally giving the two of you relief.

“Atta girl. Look so fuckin’ pretty bouncin’ on daddy’s cock.”

His filthy fucking mouth.

You toss your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you pick up the pace, fucking yourself harder onto his cock. 

Joel tightens his grip on your waist, squeezing your hips. It’s so fucking hot in the room, it’s hot everywhere. His touch sets your body alight, your skin burning beneath his hands. Oversensitivity sinking in as you near the edge of your release.

“C’mon, babygirl. You’re close. Can feel it. Fuckin’ squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, Christ,” Joel grunts.

He runs the pad of his calloused thumb between your soaked folds, coating it in your slick. Your hips buck at the sensation, a small cry tears through your vocal chords.

Joel brushes his thumb against your clit, stroking you as you bounce on his cock. Wailing above him, you clutch his chest for purchase. Your orgasm is blinding – burning hot white as you squirt on his cock. Writhing and twitching as you ride out your orgasm, continuously gushing around him as your ears ring. Your eyes squeezed shut as a few stray tears cascade down your cheeks, your ears plugged from the intensity of your orgasm.

Blinded by your orgasm, you hadn’t even noticed Joel finished inside you. You fall forward, collapsing on top of him, both of your breaths ragged. A sticky mess collected in between both of you, sex and sweat permeating the hot summer air.

He gently runs a hand along your spine, bringing you back to earth as you catch your breath. Joel presses a kiss to your head, leaving his lips pressed against your hair as he hums.

“Fuck, so fuckin’ good, baby. Good job soakin’ daddy’s cock, dollface. Knew you’d be a good girl for me – always are.”

[devilmademewriteit]

Javier Peña & Joel Miller Headcanons

a smutty edition<3

warnings: rough sex/smut (fem penetration, oral (both receiving), fingering) so 18+ only content; fem!afab!reader; dbf!Joel Miller; step!dad Joel Miller (so step-cest [I’m sorry]); implied age gap; choking; spanking; smoking (and probably more—this is just pure filth, read at your own risk).

TYSM for 500 followers!! In honour of that, enjoy some slightly depraved Joel Miller & Javier Peña headcanons based on requests yall have sent me<33333

PS: DBJAG part 3 coming to YOUR dash, real soon! Read part 1 here & part 2 here!

—

Javi laying his steady hands against the soft, inner skin of your thighs, spreading your shaking legs wide open for him and letting out a sinful groan. He’d never seen anything so perfect as the sight of your aching cunt dribbling down onto your cluttered desk. His practiced tongue draws long, breathy exhalations from your lips. Keep quiet while I taste you, querida. Skirt bunching around your waist, underwear shoved in his back pocket, your knuckles turn white on the hardwood edge of the table as you listen for footsteps, voices, the distant ring of a telephone.

“Be a good girl and keep watch for me—or d’you want everyone in the office to know just how needy this pussy is?

Dad’s best friend, Joel Miller, fucking you dumb from behind in a dark, deserted alleyway, muffling your cries with a calloused hand over your mouth. His fingernails dig mercilessly into the skin under your cheekbones—Joel loves watching the combined effect of his cock and his suffocating palm on your big, drunken eyes, sending them rollin’, straight up to the skies. He laughs when you squirm against his hips, responding to every desperate moan you breathe against his skin with a lazy, harsh slap to your ass.

“Always wanted to send you back to your old man with my cum drippin’ down your thighs”

It’s your first month at the new job—after graduating college, you thought the possibility of being hazed was behind you. That is…until you get assigned a seat next to Javier Peña at a work dinner, feeling a rough hand slide up your leg and long, dexterous fingers ease your underwear to the side, teasing your aching clit all night long. He engages you in small talk with your boss—the weather and politics—speaking nonchalantly as his middle and fourth fingers pump in and out of your pulsing cunt.

“Words a little hard tonight, sweetheart? Or something else getting you tongue-tied?”

Joel’s massive hands on either side of your head as he facefucks you selfishly, tears running down your puffy cheeks while you near-suffocate on his thick length. Open wide before you swallow, baby—show me how my cum looks on your lil’ tongue. Grabbing at his forearms and staring into his dark, hungry eyes, dazedly wondering how you’ll manage to hide the bruises on your knees in the coming weeks. Dragging a thick thumb under your eye, he drinks in the sight of your tear-soaked face.

“That’s right,” an approving groan. “Knew that pretty lil’ mouth was good for somethin’ other than whinin’”

Riding Agent Peña on his unmade bed, bringing your lighter up to the cigarette hanging from his mouth til’ the tip glows red-hot. Breathing in the smoke he blows out between your ecstasy-parted lips as he rolls his hips against yours, the dark head of his cock pressing against that spot inside you.

“Look at me when you come, hermosa. Look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock up inside you.”

Getting lessons from your step-dad, Joel, on how to stroke, suck, and ride a cock properly—like a big girl. He talks you through it slowly, breaking you in til’ you’re sore, bruised, and thoroughly used. Like that, Joel? Pumping his hard length between your delicate, devoted fingers, watching intently as his face contorts with pleasure. Alright, angel—that’s enough playin’ around. Facedown for me, now. Listening, paying attention, doing your best to be the perfect little student.

“N’ when a man says he wants to come inside this needy lil’ pussy, you say yes, alright?”

Blowing off steam with a couple of girlfriends at the bar and running into the very person who’s been making your work-life so stressful. Watching him flirt with other women for hours before he bothers a glance your way. Rolling your eyes when he winks at you. Javier’s low voice rings crystal clear despite the loud music filling the space—one hand on your shoulder, the other hovering over the back of your neck as he leans down to whisper softly in your ear.

“Roll your eyes all you want, querida; we’ll see how tough you are when I’ve got you on your hands and knees, beggin’ for it”

Joel Miller—over double your age and double your size—growing tired of the short, tight clothing you’ve been wearing around him. Dressin’ like that’s gonna attract the wrong kinda attention, sweetheart. Testing him, pulling him in with a wicked, skyward gaze—that’s what I’m hoping for, Miller—and getting rewarded with a thick hand around your throat, rough fingers manhandling your breasts. Need me to show you what the wrong kinda attention feels like? Nodding enthusiastically, needing for him to use you.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart, if I’da known how much of a slut you are, I woulda fucked you stupid the second you were legal”

Bonus fluff:

Agent Peña carrying you home to his couch after watching you take one too many shots at the club. He just can’t help stepping in to rescue you, regardless of the fact that he barely even knows you. When you wake up in the morning, confused and thoroughly hungover, he’s already at the office—but there’s a warm coffee, an aspirin, and a muffin waiting for you on the nearby table.

“you really can’t handle your tequila, hermosa. did you eat?”

Joel kissing you roughly at the peak of his climax and then finding himself completely unable to stop. Your lips are sore, red, and severely abused by the end of the night and still the man can’t get enough of you. The grey-speckled hair of his mustache brushes against your Cupid’s bow and he tastes like necessity, something desperate in the way his mouth clings to yours, his hand delicately cradling the back of your head. Almost as if you were precious to him.

“you sure know how to make a hard man soft.”

—

TAGLIST: @mads-grace4 @anyas-stuff @liviloo12346 @bookofbee @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @stardust-chords-enthusiast @fruitcupsworld @sallymilkweed @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @maudlinflowers

[skbeaumont]

Texas Heat | Joel x Reader

Chapter 4 – The Barbeque

Series masterlist

Chapter Summary: Saturday brings a barbeque, a whole lot of flirting, and a perfect storm of tension that might just push you and Joel to the brink of something new. Rating: Mature Tags/warnings: flirting, sexual tension, smut, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU!No outbreak. Word Count: 3.1k

Taglist: @mysterialee@amyispxnk @ghostofzion-blog

The Texas heat is almost unbearable even when you wake at just past seven the next morning. Laying in bed,  you can still feel the ghost of Joel’s hand against your jaw, the gentle way his fingers tangled in your hair, the delicate fan of his breath mingling with yours. The memory keeps you in bed a little longer, has you pressing your own hand beneath the waistband of your shorts. You come hard to the thought of Joel’s expression as he looked at you from the doorway of the garage, the intoxicating pull of his eyes. You wonder how his fingers – that trailed so dexterously across your cheek not twelve hours ago – would feel pressed against your core, if they would dip inside you, laying pleasure upon pleasure as he watched you with that same dark, intense expression.

Eventually, you force yourself to get up and dress. You pull on the bikini your brought with you – white, with sculped edges and long ties that you double knot – and then don your favourite sundress, one that you’ve been saving for a special occasion. Examining yourself in the mirror, you can’t help but feel a little nervous, your stomach squirming uncomfortably. Last night, Joel had been seconds from kissing you, his hands tangled in your hair, pulling you up to meet his hungry lips. And God, the thought of it makes your toes curl, your thighs press together.

But there’s anxiety there, too.

It’s been months since you broke up with your boyfriend back home, the same one you’d been with throughout your entire time at university and the gap years between. The thought of starting something new with someone else feels terrifying in so many ways. What if Joel decides he doesn’t like you, or want you? What if he’s hesitant, or unsure, and it ruins all of the hard work you’ve done over the past few months, convincing yourself you’re deserving of love and affection?

You close your eyes against the image in the mirror, refusing to let yourself fall into old habits of self-criticism, and take a long, deep breath, letting it out slowly. You focus on thinking about Joel’s easy smile and his calloused, warm hands. You think about his broad, strong shoulders and the dark lock of hair that always falls across his forehead. The nerves die away a little, replaced by anticipation and excitement. You open your eyes again, look yourself in the eye and repeat the words Diana said to you on Wednesday. “Flirt your ass off.”

Five hours later finds you and Danny lugging a slightly rusty beer cooler over to the Cuthberts’. Theirs is the biggest lot on the road, a sprawling house surrounded by a flawlessly mown front lawn and backed by huge garden, complete with a patio – almost certainly larger than your entire flat back in London – and a tiled, picture-perfect swimming pool. You let out a low whistle as you and Danny round the house into the garden, taking in the two-tiered, five-grill barbeque in the centre of the patio and the array of chairs, sofas and tables laid out on the decking. There are no other guests yet, but you find yourself searching Joel out anyway, peering around the potted palm trees and oversized plant pots.

Mr Cuthbert, a large, jovial man in a bright Hawaiian print shirt, slaps Danny convivially on the back and introduces himself – “call me John”, he says, offering you a wink which you steadfastly ignore.

You and Danny put the beer cooler in a shady part of the patio and help John fill it with the beers from his drinks fridge – a separate appliance than his usual fridge, he proudly informs you as he hands you bottles of wine, premixed cocktails, sodas, and beers. By the time you’re done, a few guests have trickled into the garden, all carrying more drinks and food.

Slowly, the garden and deck fills up with neighbours and friends. You stand near the kitchen in the shade, leaning against the cool stone of the house, your eyes fixed on the gate, watching with anticipation as each newcomer arrives. You hear Sarah before you see her or Joel, catch the end of a shout of her infectious laughter as the two of them come into the garden.

Joel’s in tinted sunglasses that reflect the garden back at you, his hair brushed back from his forehead, dark and thick and streaked with a few errant greys. He’s wearing a loose-fitting linen Henley and a pair of shorts that show off the tanned vee of collarbone and chest, the bottom of his thick thighs. He says something to Sarah, points her in the direction of a group of similarly-aged kids and she darts off, leaving Joel to survey the garden. When his eyes find yours – or rather when his sunglasses reflect your own figure – he breaks into an easy sideways grin, holds up one hand in greeting.

You told yourself you would play it cool, ease into the flirting, but before his hand has even returned to his side you’re darting towards him, sidestepping a toddler and two middle aged women. He meets you halfway across the garden, taking large steps that cover the distance to the deck easily.

“Hey,” You say when you meet.

“Hi.” He replies, and he draws his sunglasses up off his face to rest on the top of his head, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes as he does.

“I’m disappointed,” You say, gesturing at his shorts and shirt, “I was promised a toolbelt and workmen’s boots.”

He laughs at this, a deep, throaty chuckle that comes right from his chest.

“Toolbelt’s just at home, if you want me to go and get it.”

“Maybe later.” You reply, smirking.

“You want a drink?”

“Sure.”

You follow him to the beer cooler and watch as Joel plucks two bottles out of the icy water, opens the tops with one hand. The simple gesture shouldn’t be so goddamn attractive, shouldn’t make blood rush to your cheeks and heat pool in your belly, but it is and it does. He hands you one of the beers, and your fingers brush his warm knuckles as you take it. The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches in response, his eyes flashing in the bright sunlight. You can feel the blush hot on your face just from these tiny, pathetic touches, slick already pooling in your core, dampening the bikini bottoms under your sundress. You clear your throat and Joel nods to a quiet corner of the deck where a loveseat lies unoccupied. You follow him to it, sink into its plush cushioning. Joel sits beside you. He's so broad that he takes up more than half of the sofa, his shoulder bumping against yours as he settles. You both look out over the garden, at where Sarah and the other kids are having an intense discussion in a tight cluster.

“She really enjoyed that math lesson you gave her,” he says, musingly, “won’t stop goin’ on about it. Never seen her so keen to be over at Connie’s before, either.”

“She’s really bright.” You reply, turning to him.

“No idea where she gets that from.”

You roll your eyes at him, cross one leg over the other, watch as Joel follows the movement with his eyes, drags his gaze up your bare thigh to the hem of your dress.

“’s a nice dress,” he says, the drawl of his accent stealing away the first syllable.

“Thanks. I’d been saving it for a special occasion.”

“This a special occasion?” He asks, gaze flicking from your bare thigh to your face, the trace of a mischievous smile playing on his plush lips.

“You tell me.” You reply, letting your own mouth curve into a grin.

There’s a splash from the pool and you both turn to see Sarah emerging from the water, face cracked into a wide smile as her friends jump in after her. Joel shakes his head, laughing.

“Always gotta be the first one in.” He says, and you laugh too, watch as Sarah splashes another girl.

“You going in?” You ask, as a few adults start sitting at the side of the pool to dip their toes in and slowly climbing in after the kids. “Not a chance.” He says, “I ain’t a swimmer.”

“That’s a shame.” You say, standing up and pulling the sundress up over your head, “Would’ve been nice to have some company.”

Joel’s eyes travel over your body, taking in the curves of your breasts and waist, the swathes of bare skin. His gaze makes you feel self-conscious, but his expression is awe-struck, reverent, like he’s looking at something sacred. His pupils are blown wide despite the bright sunlight, cheeks reddening. The hand clutching his beer is white-knuckled, the other twitching where it rests in his lap like he wants to reach out and trace the path of your curves. He swallows, Adam’s apple rippling in this throat.

“I’ll be jus’ fine watchin’, darlin’.” He says, his voice hoarse.

You waste no time sliding off your sandals and darting towards the water. It’s immature, maybe, but you’ve never been able to resist diving headfirst into water. The pool is cool, fresh: perfect in the intense Texan heat. Sarah giggles as you resurface, splashes you with a back hand. You spend the next half-hour messing about with her, having handstand competitions and lying on your backs to float idly. Every time you let your gaze wander to where Joel is sitting, he’s watching you, his expression intense. He looks away the first few times you catch him, but after the fourth time he lets himself watch you, raises his beer to his lips and takes a sip. When he draws the bottle away, there’s a droplet on his lip. His tongue darts out to catch it, and you have to press your legs together in the water to dull the ache. This man, you think, watching him wipe his mouth with the back of one large hand, veins standing out on his toned forearms, is going to be the death of me.

After a few more minutes you’re starting to feel the cold, fingertips wrinkling in the water. You float over to the side of the pool and push yourself up onto the side. Droplets run down your stomach and legs as you stand up, goosebumps rising in their wake. You turn to look for where you left your bag and towel, but suddenly warmth is engulfing you, a soft, fluffy towel wrapped around your shoulders.

“Here,” Joel’s voice from behind you, his hands on your shoulders, draping the towel over you.

“Thanks.”

He steps back, lets his hands fall back to his sides.

“Water nice?” He asks, as you start to pat yourself dry.

“Refreshing,” You reply, looking up into his face.

“Looked it.” He’s standing close to you in the busyness of the garden, people milling around you both.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Looked… good.” He swallows again, tendons in his neck shifting. You want to put your lips to the flesh there, bite down onto rough skin, lick the stubble covering his jaw.

“I should go and get changed,” you say, nodding towards the house.

You step around him, start towards the kitchen door, turning to look behind you as you pick up your bag from where you left it by the beer cooler. Your eyes meet and the heat in his is almost palpable, rolling off of him in waves. You feel his gaze follow you as you step through the door into the cool air of the kitchen. Inside, you find the Cuthbert’s downstairs bathroom, shut the door behind you and lean back against it, your head spinning, heart pounding.

By the time you’ve changed back into your sundress, food is being served. You take a paper plate and let John load it up with chicken and a burger from the grill, then go and find a seat at a table with Danny, Connie, Joel and Sarah. You slide onto the bench next to Joel, letting your thigh brush against his and offering him a chaste smile when he raises a single eyebrow in response.

“How’s work, Joel?” Danny asks, swiping a blob of ketchup from his cheek.

“Oh, fine, thanks. Busy, at the moment.”

“Tommy alright? Not been getting into any more trouble?”

Joel laughs at this, shaking his head as he replies, “No more’n usual.”

Danny offers an understanding nod in response, and Sarah giggles, catching your eye across the table.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a happy, hazy buzz of food and conversation. Joel remains beside you, your legs pressed together on the bench seat. At some point, as Danny regales you all with a story of a traffic incident he witnessed last week, Joel stretches out, raising his hands over his head. When he brings them down, he lays his arm along the back of the bench behind you. You lean ever so slightly into him, imagining how it would feel if he slipped his arm down from the wood onto your shoulders. When you lean your head back to look up at the clear sky, you let it rest on his forearm, feel the heat of him seep through the hair at the nape of your neck through to your skin. The garden has started to empty now; the sky is slowly turning a pale, picture-perfect pink as the evening draws in. Danny lets out a long, steady sigh and pushes himself to his feet.

“We should get back to Nana,” he says to Connie, who nods and stands, “but you stay on as long as you like.” He adds to you, helping Connie pull on her cardigan.

You and Joel wave them off. Sarah leaves too, tired from the day, a little bored now the other teenagers and kids have left.

“Shouldn’t stay too much longer,” you say, looking around at where Mrs Cuthbert is collecting glasses up.

“No,” Joel agrees, but neither of you move.

His arm is still across the back of the bench, your neck now leaning against it. He flexes his hand, lets the tips of his thick fingers trace the skin on your bare shoulder, pulling up the strap of you sundress where it’s fallen down. The feeling of his hands on you is exhilarating and you shift in your seat, subconsciously begging him to keep touching you, to let his hand trace your shoulder to your collarbone, to dip down beneath the neckline of your dress to your bare breasts. He doesn’t, of course – there are still plenty of people in the garden – but he does leave his fingers where they are, just resting against your shoulder. Minutes pass. The tension between you seems to be building irreversibly, all the flirtatious banter and playful teasing from earlier gone, replaced by heavy silence and a kind of buzz in the air that makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck.

Joel clears his throat after maybe ten minutes, runs his free hand up the leg of his shorts, wiping his palm which, if he’s feeling anything like you, is sweaty with a heady combination of anticipation and nervous energy.

“Should get back.” He says, his voice low, face turned to you so that the words are said against the shell of your ear.

“Yeah,”

This time, you both move as one. You stand, slipping the strap of your bag over your shoulder as you do, while Joel picks up his sunglasses from the table and slides them into the vee of his Henley. You both call hasty goodbyes to the Cuthberts, thanking them for the food and hospitality. And then you’re leaving the garden, stepping out of sight of the deck into the small alley between the house and the fence. You’ve hardly taken more than two or three steps before you both break.

Joel rounds on you as you grab him by his shirt. Crowding you against the wall of the house, he fists a hand in your hair and draws your mouth up to his. The kiss is frenzied, passionate right from the moment your lips meet. He groans from somewhere deep in his chest, licks his tongue into your mouth, his teeth grazing your lips, bruising them. His hand caresses your jaw, fingers spanning your face, cradling it as he kisses you. It’s intoxicating. You reach up to thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, pushing yourself up onto tiptoes to card them through his curls. You moan into his mouth, let your tongue lick into his mouth, his stubble tickling your face, harsh and scratchy in contrast to his soft lips.

He pulls back, rests his forehead against yours, both of you panting.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He whispers, leaning down to place open mouthed kisses on the underside of your jaw. “I can’t stop thinking about you, I can’t sleep, I can’t concentrate.”

“Joel…” It’s all you can say as he nips at your collarbone, runs his fingertips down your sides, hands searching out the flesh of your ass, pulling you to him, bending so that he can slide one thick thigh between yours. The movement brings his hips flush with yours, the line of his hardening cock pressing into your stomach, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You grind against him, pressing your cunt into his thigh, seeking out friction. He hisses into your open mouth as he drags his hips against yours, cock trapped between your rutting bodies – a hot, thick line against you.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he breathes, nipping and pecking at your lips, dragging a hot hand up your side to squeeze your breast.

“Please don’t stop,” You reply, gasping as his fingers find the hard nub of your nipple and pinch, pleasure coursing through you like adrenaline.

The whole thing is ridiculous: you’re pressed against the wall of your neighbour’s house, Joel’s hands mapping out the curves of your body as he kisses you. Anyone could see, anyone could come round the path from the garden but neither of you seem to be capable of caring. The dam has burst and it’s all you can do to cling to each other, rocking your hips together, seeking out friction. It’s only when you slide a hand between your bodies, seeking out the hard line of Joel’s cock that he pulls back. His lips are swollen, eyes entirely black in the low light.

“We can’t do this,” he says, “not here.”

And then you’re both laughing, the absurdity of the entire situation overcoming you. When you calm down, still breathing heavily, Joel draws your face between his hands and presses another kiss to your lips.

“I want to,” he says, stroking his thumb along your cheekbone, “Jesus, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.”

“Me neither,”

“Sarah’s staying at Tommy’s on Friday.” He says, “Come over. I’ll cook dinner, or take you out. I’ll treat you right, like you deserve.”

“Friday?” You say, “That’s a long way away.”

You push yourself onto tiptoes to kiss him again, draw his bottom lip into your mouth and he groans against you, his hips canting forward so that his cock drags against your hip.

He pulls away, rasps, “Shit, darlin’. You’re making me crazy.”

“I’ll be over on Tuesday, for Sarah.” You say, “I’ll stay until you get back from work.”

“You make it really hard to say no.”

“Then don’t say no.”

“Okay. But I’m taking you for dinner on Friday too. Don’t say I don’t know how to treat a woman.”

“Joel Miller, I don’t think anyone could ever say that.” And you press another kiss against his lips, smiling into it.

When you get home a few minutes later, your lips bruised and your head buzzing, there’s already a text in your inbox.

I’ll leave the toolbelt on for Tuesday. J