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#lou miller x you
drkmgs · 1 year
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Assistant | NSFW
pairings: Cate Blanchett x Fem!Reader
genre: smut, angst, fluff
Warning: NSFW, +18, top/bottom, AGE GAP, language, teasing, cunnilingus, just spicy sapphic
request: power bottom Cate x top service Reader
story type: One shot
Hi, Hello. Sorry for not posting any stories. I have been busy... I hope to make it up to you guys with this one... Please forgive me if it's not good, I have never written NSFW before, and I absolutely have no idea how I managed to finish this...
Also, belated happy birthday to this gorgeous woman...
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A lot of people would kill for your spot in Cate Blanchett's life right now. You are just her assistant and public love interest. How did that happen? You don't even know. You were just desperate to have a job to be able to move out of your parents' house, and your loving best friend Rohan informed you about how the very famous oscar winning Cate Blanchett is looking for an assistant.
You had no idea what a fucking assistants do. You were on more the creative side of the industry—you love photography and filming, which is also one of the reasons why you need a job—to support this dream. There are a lot of benefits for being Cate Blanchett's assistant—one of those were—you get to see the behind the scenes of every photoshoot of hers.
BUT. You didn't expect people to ship you and your boss. Don't get me wrong, Cate is a wonderful woman, damn she's your dream woman. You wouldn't want her to get criticized for being with a woman half of her age, so you vowed to yourself to keep everything at a professional level and won't let your feelings control you.
Anyway, you just arrived home after Cate's very busy schedule, and all you want to do is lay down and watch anything you could find on Netflix. You quickly changed into an oversized white shirt and black cycling shorts. Then, you made your way to your kitchen and tossed a bag of popcorn into the microwave.
With a satisfied exhale, your eyes immediately drawn to the welcoming sight of your couch nestled in the center of your living room. It seemed to call out to you, promising a haven of comfort. You sank into the couch, feeling the plush cushions envelop your tired body.
Once you were satisfied with your position, you reached for the remote control and turned the TV on to Netflix. You were scrolling through the options and stumbled upon Ocean's 8, which you had already watched more than 10 times. Without thinking, you let it play. There was a little ding in the background indicating that your popcorn is ready. You were about to get it, but your doorbell rang. So, you turned down the volume of your TV and made your way to the door.
"Miss Cate?" The surprise ran throughout your body. You cracked the door wider as soon as you realized it was your boss standing outside.
"Hi. I know this is unexpected, but I just need someone to talk to. The girls are busy, and you were the last one on my list." You could feel in your own skin how nervous she is, so you stepped aside and let her in. You closed the door. You let her roam around your living room, probably gathering strength to start a conversation about whatever made her so uncomfortable.
You excuse yourself for a minute to get a glass of water and your popcorn from the microwave. As soon as you came back, you handed her the water, and you placed the popcorn on the coffee table. You watch her gulped down that fresh water. She was so nervous that water spilled from the corner of her lips. Mindlessly, you reached out to wipe it away. It was already too late when you realized what you have done.
Silence filled the room. Cate doesn't know what she should do. She has been trying to stop these feelings for you, but it seems nothing helps. Now, being alone with you in this tension, she doesn't know if she should just let the scene play out.
You were still frozen in your position when you suddenly felt something warm and soft on your lips. You sighed in relaxation as if a big chunk of rocks had been lifted up from your shoulders. You reached behind her neck to deepen the kiss. Cate let out a little whiper at your action and pulled even you closer. The movie playing in the background was forgotten. You gently pushed her back to the couch, guiding her to lay down without breaking the kiss. You settled your thigh between her legs, putting pressure on her private area, which cause Cate to gasped and broke the kiss.
Cate leaned on your forehead, panting. She was still breathing heavily when you said something under your breath. "That was a mistake." But your hands keep roaming around her body. She shook her head and swallowed. "Shut up and kiss me again." You comply with a lot more passion than before. Your hand found its way under her shirt and up to her breasts.
Your thumb gently hovered over her hard nipple which was still covered with her bra. More sexual noises were coming out of Cate's mouth. You felt her hips rock against your thigh, and her hands were playing with the hem of your white shirt. You left her mouth to leave kisses on her jaw down to her neck while flicking her hard nipple now and then. "Take your shirt off," Cate managed to say and had her hands on your hips. You stopped, leaned back, took your shirt over your head, and let it fall on the floor.
Cate ran her eyes all over you, drinking in at what a goddess of a body you have. Then, a tattoo on your upper left arm—an arrow with smoking roses—caught her attention. She ran her finger over it, which caused you to bite your lower lip. Cate diverted her gaze back up to your eyes. "I want you to fuck me." her voice was husky and full of desire that made your core ache. With that, both of you didn't miss a beat to take off all of your clothes.
As soon as the last piece of garment fell on the floor, there was no way to stop both of you now. Panting, Whining, and Gasping like two horny teenagers having sex on the couch for the first time. "I need your fingers inside me," Cate moaned as you nipped at her neck and squeezed her bob. You hummed in response, hand already traveling down to her aching pussy.
Your middle finger slid down her slit, gathering a decent amount of her pussy juice, and rubbed her sensitive bud clockwise, which you earned a pornographic noise from Cate. It didn't stop there, Cate's hips began to move with your finger. "Fuck, Y/N. Put that finger inside me, now!" Cate moaned loudly when you followed her instructions. You felt her cunt clenched onto your finger. You slowly move your finger in 'come here' motion, and you add another finger as you move down to her clit.
One hard lick on her bud made her buck her hips, and a loud moan escaped her mouth again. You continued to do that assault until you felt her hand in your scalp, pushing your head onto her wet pussy. Cate is squirming and gasping under you as you eat her out perfectly. One last hard suck on her bud, and she fell apart under you.
Cate's legs were still shaking as you came up to level with her. "Hmm, even in sex you're bossy." You smiled your lips hovering hers. "Oh, darling. That's just for today." She still trying to come down from her high. "I don't mind following instructions as long as I can please you." And with that, you kissed her again.
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i think that we as a society stopped talking about the blatant homoeroticism in ocean’s 8 far too easily
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blackacre13 · 5 months
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happy writer's day, blackacre13! hope you are doing well :)
Very belated, but thanks so much pocket friend!❤️❤️
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blitzosblog · 2 years
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Joel Miller
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Refuge: You rescue Joel and Ellie, taking the pair in, feelings start to arise between you and Joel, tensions increase, eventually one of you is going to blow 🥰😈 (Coming soon!)
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marytylerperry · 1 year
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having always loved the rare Lou/Rose pairing i couldn't help but feel static as i just discovered some kind soul has written for them in AO3 !!!!
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sapphicforsarahh · 9 months
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MORE LOU MILLEE SMUT PLSSSSS DOM LOU SUB YN PLSS
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word count: 1.1K
warnings: smut, top!lou x bottom!reader, dom!lou x sub!reader, lou miller x fem!reader, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), praise
synopsis: Lou gets her eye on someone new at the bar
It had been a slow Wednesday night at the bar, like it usually was. Lou tried to keep her boredom low by cleaning and drying glasses, organising bottles and cleaning the bar. "Hey Nine, get yourself off early, its quiet tonight," she shouts to her co-worker in the back. Nine walks through and hands her apron to Lou, and notices the door opening. "I'll just serve this customer then I'll sign out," Nine says to Lou before approaching the bar.
Lou looks up to see who just walked in and she sees you. "Let me get this one Nine," Lou smirks. Nine nods and says her goodbyes. You had piqued her interest. Your feminine style, long hair and pretty face. She watches you walk to the bar and sit on a stool. "What can I get for you honey?" Lou puts on her sweetest voice and looks at you. "What do you recommend?", you look up for the first time and see who's serving you. A tall blonde wearing a deep red suit and a tie loosely hung around her neck, multiple layers of jewellery and bangs that were cut just above her blue eyes.
"Well, it depends if you like sweet or bitter drinks. Or strong?", Lou tries to find the perfect drink for you. Her gaze was too strong, you had to look somewhere else, your eyes fell to her perfectly shown cleavage and you blushed. "You okay sweetheart?", Lou's voice pulled you out of the your thoughts and her finger lifted your chin up to make you look at her. "I- uh, I like strong," you fumble out.
Lou chuckles and walks away to make you a drink. You try to compose yourself and take your jacket off, due to the quick increase in temperature. "Do you like martinis?", Lou questions. "I've never had one," you confess. "Perfect. You're about to have the best martini you'll ever drink. I'll even make it dirty," she smirks, her Australian accent being more prevalent than ever.
She begins shaking the cocktail and you watch attentively at her. With a final shake, she starts pouring the drink into the chilled glass and pours the olive juice in. "Here you go," Lou hands the glass over and watches you take the first sip. Your eyes close and you swallow the drink. "It's good," you nod. "I'm glad you like it," she smiles. After another sip, you reach for your purse and start getting money out of it. "How much is it?" You pull $10 out, and go to hand it to her. "It's on me pretty girl," she pushes your hand away.
"Do all girls drink for free in here?", you joke before watching her again. "Just the pretty ones," Lou smiles and sits down opposite you. The blush on your face worsened, thankfully the bar was dimly lit and she wouldn't be able to see it. "So what brings you here?" Lou questions. "Well," you look down and notice her name tag 'Lou', "Lou, I'm wanting to expand my horizons, if you get my meaning." She smirks, her name had never sounded so good. "Never been to a lesbian bar before?". "No never," you nervously reply.
"What's your name sweetheart?" Lou purrs. "It's Y/N," you take another sip. "Well Y/N, what are you looking for? A woman to go out on a date with or a one night stand? Because tonight, its quite bare in here," she chuckles. "There is one woman who's caught my eye," you start hinting.
The two of you keep talking until Lou checks her watch, 9:43pm. Everyone else in the club had left by now, it was just the two of you left. Lou's hand had made it to your thigh and your hand rested on her shoulder. "What do you say we take this somewhere more private?" Lou suggests. "There's no one here," you smirk. "Look who's bold," Lou smirks before kissing you and picking you up and placing you on the table behind. Both of you become more desperate as time goes on, Lou pinning your hips to the table whilst you claw at her back. "Please," you plead, wanting her to hurry up. "Begging already? We've only just started darling," she chuckles at your desperation and moves her lips down to your neck. You moan at her dominant words and try to be patient and let her do what she wants to you.
Lou begins kneeling in front of you, wrapping her hands around your calves and kneading them slightly. "What is it that you want?", she teases, knowing exactly what you want. You writhe under her touch, and you groan, not wanting to confess what you want. "Stop, squirming. Tell me what you want," she commands and starts pulling down your skirt. "You, fuck me Lou!", you moan out. "Was that so hard?" she teases and pulls your tights down, staring at your underwear. Her fingers rub the wet patch and she quickly pulls them down. "Fuck baby, you're so wet. All this for me?" she breathed onto your thigh.
At this point, you couldn't speak, all you could focus on was this older woman between your legs. "Spread your legs," she ordered and looked up at you. She couldn't get enough of you. The sight of your eyes shut and brows furrowed had her desperate to please you. As you opened your legs, she saw for the first time truly how soaked you were. Lou couldn't wait any longer, her mouth immediately attacked you, her lips sloppily making out with your glistening pussy. The sounds you were making urged her to keep going.
"I'm going to cum," you breathlessly moaned. "Don't you dare cum until I tell you to," Lou takes her mouth off you and inserts two fingers instead. "Shit!" You groan out and shut your legs. Lou prise your legs open and keeps fingering you. "How close are you," she rasps. "S-so close," you moan. Her fingers keep moving inside you at an insane pace. "Do you want to cum?", she teases. "Yes! Lou, let me cum," you chant. "Beg me for it," she once again rasps out.
You groan at her stubbornness, "please, please let me cum for you Lou, I need to cum so bad". Her fingers still rapidly moving in and out of you. Her free hand kneads your thigh, whilst her lips are attached to your ear. "Cum, now," she demands into your ear.
Your legs shake and snap shut as you cum all over her fingers, her thrusting continuing. "That's it, you did so good," she praises before carefully removing her fingers and licking them clean.
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Taglist: @mllkw33ds @isle-of-earle @chillinftladygaga @cordeliaswife @angelick1sses @gmtsu @thenazwife @ladysc @midnightlove30 @blanchettlovebot
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Mommy... Master List
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newbakerontheblock · 7 months
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Joel Miller x reader 18+
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Summary: set during LOU. Joel comes to see a friend after a hard day. Who cheers him up in the best way.
Warning: smut, 18+ only, blowjob, slight praise(if you squint)
You’re tired from the days work, working as a nurse during a time like this was non stop. You come home and shower, getting into a top and shorts and grabbing a glass of wine. Thankfully Tommy kept you happy and paid with gifts to thank you for all your work. So a day like today, wine was needed. You absentmindedly downed the glass while zoning out on the sofa so you pour yourself another but before you can take a sip there’s a knock on the door.
You’re not surprised to see Joel stood at your door, but you’re taken back by the big frown on his face. Although around others he surely had that frown all the time, but with you he didn’t. You didn’t even need to say anything, you waved him in and started to pour him a whiskey.
You handed him his glass and your fingers touched, you ignored the sensation you felt inside at the smallest of touches. You’ve always felt something towards Joel. But never attempted to let him know, it’d be completely pointless. You’ve never gotten the hint he’s felt anything more for you. You miss the way he held his breath when your fingers grazed and his eyes flash to your lips.
“What’s happened?” You ask, as he sits on the sofa and you sit in the chair opposite.
“Hard day. Just a lot of work to do and not a lot of time.” He replied gruffly.
You study the expression on his face whilst you drink your wine. You had an idea in mind what you could do to cheer him up but wouldn’t be able to handle the rejection if he didn’t want it. So you thought about testing the waters. With just your shorts on you crossed your legs, allowing the shorts to ride up your thighs, and just as you had hoped. Joel watched your movement and eye running up your legs with a hunger.
“Did you need me to help you relax?” You ask innocently, placing the glass on wine in front of you on the coffee table, allowing your top to slip down enough for Joel to notice you had no bra on. He tensed on the sofa, gripping the arm of it tightly, his knuckles whitening.
“How?” The word came out quietly as he was eager to hear what was coming.
“Whatever you’d like.” You were sure you had a little buzz of the wine you was drinking, you’ve never been so upfront with him. But pushing his buttons like this was making you so wet already, you’re sure if you uncrossed your legs right now he’d see the wet patch in your shorts.
Joel didn’t say anything, he kept watching you intently. Trying to judge what you was planning, you licked your lips and stood up. Butterflies were going mad in your stomach as you walked up to him. He looked like he was going to stand up so you shake your head. As you lower yourself to your knees his eyes widen slightly, he’s hoping and praying you’re planning on doing what he thinks. For so long, he’s wondered what it would be like with you. Your lips wrapped around his hard cock as he fights the urge to fuck your mouth until you’re gagging and tears are streaming. Many nights he’s fucked his fist whilst thinking of you riding him, pussy clenching him as you near the edge. Now you’re in front of him on your knees and he’s getting hard already.
“Let me help you.” You whispered while fingers run down his front and under his t shirt.
You waste no time in pushing up his shirt and giving him light kisses along his stomach line. He tenses in anticipation. Yours hands take the time to unbutton his trousers and free his erection from his boxers.
“Oh fuck Joel” you murmur as you look at his cock.
So thick and long. You’re sure he wouldn’t fit completely in your mouth but you were determined to try. Grabbing the base of his cock and giving a light squeeze, he groans from above and leans his head back against the sofa, eyes closed. You take the advantage to lick the tip of him, tasting the precum spilling out.
“Fuck!” He exclaims, head throwing forward as he looks at you.
You look him straight in the eyes and take his cock in your mouth, you’re aware straight away of the size and jaw aching but it was forgotten when you watched his face contort in pleasure. Starting gently you pulled back until just the tip as in your mouth and before you could push down again, Joel’s hip thrust upwards. Making you gag at the size of him.
“Oh fuck. I’m sorry, feels so good. Shit.” He rushes to apologise.
You didn’t know how to put it into words so you decided to show him, you grabbed both of his hands and planted them on the back of your head, allowing him to push your head down deeper.
“You’re such a good girl.” He praises and you clench around nothing.
He doesn’t take long to start fucking your mouth, you hear his breathy moans and grunts as he chases his high. Your hand roams to his balls and gives them a gentle squeeze.
“Oh god, I’m going to cum baby.”
You wanted him to cum in your mouth, you wanted to taste everything he had to offer so you carried on, opening your throat and ready to swallow.
“I’m cumming, fuuuuuck” Joel cries out as he cums, filling your mouth which you swallow down.
As he calms down from his high you look up at him and say,
“Feel better?” With a mischievous grin.
“Fuck yes. Now it’s your turn.” He grabs you and leads you to your room.
I would literally do anything for Pedro pascal 🥵🥵🥵🥵 damnnn. I think I must have read every one of the fanfics about him, had to give this a go. Basically living my fantasties through fics right now 🤣
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bl4nchetts-lvr · 7 months
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lou millee headcanons plsss
lou miller general headcanons
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ship: lou miller x F!reader
word count: TO BE ADDED
genre: SWF 🫶🏻
i headcanon lou as a tsundere,who tries to hide her lovey-dovey relationship with you from the public eye!
definitely is a type of a woman to spoil you rotten.
you want a new bag? more than enough is sent to your bank account. you feel like staying at home and have a "lazy day"? she buys all of you fav snacks,orders a take out of your fav food and chooses the movie she knows you'd love.
she is DEFINITELY a very possesive and overprotective,maybe even jealous,woman.
i headcanon that whenever you drive with her on her bike,everytime she's on the red light she will caress your knee to see if you're cold or no
more than likely won't tell you about her work as a con-artist and EVEN if she tells you,will hide 99% of the details.
i headcanon her as a woman who loves when you wear revealing clothes and is definitely a: "dress however you like,i know how to fight" typa woman🙈🙈
is into neck kisses (loves recieving as much,maybe even more,as giving but would never say it out loud. bro's got an ego)
i lowkey think lou's a smoker
we all know she's a fashionista and would love whenever you put on her clothes and they're quite big for you (cuz she's tall)
she may seem like a very dominant woman,but a little bit of flirting and she's slightly blushing,having butterflies in her stomach and looking away so you dont tease her more
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all done,no NSFW for today🩷
sorry that i took so long,hehe.
wish you all the best💋
-A-
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joelswritingmistress · 9 months
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You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 26
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Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 
Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 
Fuck. I was addicted. I was done. I was his. The whole cliché fantasy about making love on a bear-skinned rug at a snowy mountain cabin in front of a roaring fire lived up to the hype; especially when my authoritative lover didn't leave a single part of my body untouched.
As I laid in the dim lighting on the living room floor looking up at the ceiling, I placed a hand on my throat where Dr. Miller’s had been as he dirty talked me through a thigh-shaking orgasm.
“Did I hurt you?” He placed a soothing hand over the highest part up my chest and drew his fingers up the sensitive skin of my neck.
I turned to him and smiled. “No.” My eyes closed when he let his fingers tiptoe down between my bare breasts before trailing off at my belly button.
Dr. Miller rested a hand on the curve of my hip and propped himself up onto an elbow beside me. He let the side of his face sit in his palm and stared down at me.
“This house was left to me in a will by a man named Lou Brackett,” Dr. Miller said, holding my stare. “He also left me a big inheritance because he had no family left when he died.”
Finally, some answers. Some. “Who was he?”
“I met him through my old job. I was in my late twenties, he was in his early seventies then and passed away of cancer a short time later. When I was notified that he left me all of this I didn't know what to make of it.”
“Were you close with him?”
Dr. Miller nodded. “But I wouldn't have expected him to give me anything in his will. Certainly not all this.”
“Maybe he looked at you like a son.. or a grandson.” I shrugged, “And if he had no family left, it's better than letting the state just take everything.”
He cleared his throat and nodded, looking at the fire for a moment. “I don't want you to be alone on campus anymore.”
I raised my eyebrows at the sudden subject change.
“I spend a little time in the library sometimes in between work and class,” I admitted.
Dr. Miller made a face. “Well, when it's dark don't walk alone. Even just for a few minutes. That's all it takes. Until this guy is caught I'd rather you not take any chances.”
“Okay.” I nodded.
“If I’m teaching and you can't find someone, text me and I'll act like I forgot something in my car and walk you to yours.”
“I'm really fine,” I assured him. “I know it's really close to home and-”
“I just can't stop thinking about you being alone in the bathroom on campus-”
I leaned up and silenced him with a kiss. My palm pressed into the back of his head and I took over his mouth with my own.
Our lips parted and Dr. Miller pulled me back to him.
“You have to tell me the whole story,” I gasped the words aloud but he kissed me hard again. "About the house. About all of it."
“Okay,” he promised in a whisper, laying me down on my back again.
My eyes closed and wrapped my arms around him as he kissed down my neck. “Okay.”
..
I wasn’t as concerned for my own safety the same way that Dr. Miller was. I wasn’t acting recklessly by any means, and I still got a chill when I thought of the incident in the bathroom, but studying over notes in the library didn’t exactly put me on high alert.
Dr. Miller, however, was like a hawk watching over its nest. My eyes practically bugged out of my head when I saw him enter the media center. Our eyes met and I smiled, though he moved around the space as if he had another purpose for being there. He conversed with the aging librarian, spoke with a few students who recognized him and then made his way to the table where I sat.
“Will you be alright to go back to the house tonight?” He asked quietly.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“You could always just wait in my office.”
“That would look suspicious.”
“No one would know that you were in there.”
I had the urge to stand up and peck him on the lips. I would have if we were at home but rather I just smiled. “It’s my home now, too, remember?” I grinned, “I have to get into a normal routine.”
Dr. Miller sighed and nodded. I knew he would have had me handcuffed to him if it were plausible; but it wasn’t. “You’re right.” His fingers subtly grazed over mine on the table top and he continued his walk around the library. That was about as much physical interaction we could have on campus. The fact that he had to touch me in some way made me smile to myself.
I tried to focus on the material I was reading, but my eyes kept scanning for him each time he ducked in and out of the stacks. Eventually he made his way back toward me, stuck a post-it note onto my book and smirked at me. 
I squinted my eyes and smirked back, staring at the message he’d scribbled down. It was a code to locate a book. K-353-K1521. 3rd row down. 24th Book from the left.
“What’s this?” I whispered, though Dr. Miller didn’t respond. He failed to hold back another devilish smirk and then wandered slowly away toward the doors of the library. I watched him go and he glanced over his shoulder at me before making his way back outside.
I waited a few minutes, so as not to make it obvious, and then rose to my feet with the sticky note in hand and began my little scavenger hunt around the area. 
What is this book he wants me to find?
I had to admit, I hadn’t searched library stacks for a book in a very long time, so navigating my way around wasn’t exactly second nature. Most of the time the research I wanted to do was all at the tip of my fingers via my smart phone or lap top. 
At the end of each row were labels with letters and numbers. I searched and searched, mostly blindly, until finally coming across K-353 - K1521. I had to admit, I loved the mystery and the games.
My eyes glanced upward and I reached up to the third row, beginning to count across from the left.
One, two, three..
I counted across, going slow so I wouldn’t accidentally skip over one and land on the wrong title.
Twenty-three, twenty-four.
I turned my head to the side to read the title of the book and then removed it from its spot.
Kama Sutra.
I laughed lightly to myself, and then glanced to my left and right before flipping open the book to a random page. I drew a hand over the back of my neck, continuing to grin as I browsed the illustrations on the page that went along with the Padmasana sex position.
As I began to read the description, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I knew who it was.
Make sure you read and do your homework, Dr. Miller’s text read, followed by a second one that made me laugh: Exam tonight.
I typed back, smiling as I did, and snapped a photo of the page I was on. I then decided to discreetly bring the book back to my table.
Should I check the book out? I wondered. I was so shy, I didn’t know if I could face the old lady behind the counter with the book in my hand. I decided to ask Dr. Miller, to which he replied: Take pictures of what you want to do then put the book back. I have a copy at home. I just wanted to get you thinking about it. Sometimes that’s the best kind of foreplay.
It certainly was. I began to flip through the pages of the book, taking pictures of things I wouldn’t mind trying. Dr. Miller was right. After just a minute or two I was already picturing what it would feel like to carry out some of the new positions with him. My face felt flushed and I hoped no one would interrupt the little task he’d put me up to.
My eyes lifted when I sensed someone had crossed past the aisle I was seated in and then I continued what I was doing until there were only about fifteen minutes until my class started. Dr. Miller would be right next door, and from the texts he was already sending me I could tell his thoughts would surely be in the same place as mine for the next several hours.
I finally closed the book and hurried back down to the aisle where I’d taken the book from, setting it back where it belonged. As I squeezed it back between two other books, I saw a pair of eyes peering at me from behind the stack in the next row.
“(Y/N).” They said my name quietly and I stepped backwards in response.
“What?” I swallowed hard and saw movement in the small spaces left available by the rows of books. I was tempted to run out of the aisle and into the main area of the library, though when Trevor emerged I placed a hand over my chest. “Trevor.” I felt relief, “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry,” he practically squeaked, adjusting his glasses.
“It’s fine.” I hoped he hadn’t seen the book I was putting back.
“Are you headed to class?”
“Yeah, I am.” I gave a nod. “Are you?”
“Yeah. I am.” He smiled, echoing my words.
I glanced up at the windows on the walls. It was dark outside. Dr. Miller didn’t want me to be alone. “Want to walk with me?” I asked.
Trevor nodded. “Yeah. Yes. Just.. let me get my stuff.”
“I have to get mine, too,” I told him. “I’ll meet you by the front doors.”
He smiled again and adjusted his glasses before power walking awkwardly down the row. His eyes glanced upward toward the area where I put the Kama Sutra book away and I shuddered to think he might actually know what I had been looking at.
Who cares. I rolled my eyes at myself and then went to retrieve my belongings. I texted Dr. Miller to let him know I was about to be on my way and then strolled to where Trevor was already waiting by the doors, hugging his laptop.
“Ready?” He asked with another Howdy Doody grin.
I nodded and sighed as I stared at the building we were headed to across the green. “Ready.”
CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER
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drkmgs · 1 year
Text
Too good at goodbyes
Lou Miller x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Angst, unsure love
story type: one shot
This one was a rush one. My brain just whipped this up, and I couldn't stop writing it. Also, I don't know what direction this was actually going, so I hope it turned out fine.
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You must think that I'm stupid You must think that I'm a fool You must think that I'm new to this But I have seen this all before
You aren't stupid. You aren't a fool, and this is definitely not new to you.
You watch Lou leave your side when she finds out about the revenge Debbie is plotting towards her ex-lover, Becker.
You watch them argue. You watch Lou being frustrated and unsure about the revenge plot. You watch your lover – actually more on pursuer be worried about her crush or according to her ex-crush – this right here is the main reason why you haven't accepted her being your girlfriend.
I'm never gonna let you close to me Even though you mean the most to me 'Cause every time I open up, it hurts So, I'm never gonna get too close to you Even when I mean the most to you In case you go and leave me in the dirt
"Hey, Y/N. Are you okay?" Lou playfully shoved your shoulders as she sits beside you. She noticed how gloomy you looked and wanted to cheer you up. "Yeah. I'm just tired. I'll go to bed. Goodnight, Lou." You gave her a weak smile and walked off towards your room. Her gaze just follows your movements.
"Why don't you talk to her about it, Y/N?" Tammy comforted you as she caught you silently sobbing. "I don't know what to say, Tam. I know they are partner in crime, and I have no right to be jealous because I haven't accepted her yet, and I can't accept her because of how she is now. I know I sound selfish, but I have been hurt before, and I don't want to go through all that again." You cry more.
But every time you hurt me, the less that I cry And every time you leave me, the quicker these tears dry And every time you walk out, the less I love you Baby, we don't stand a chance, it's sad, but it's true
"Could you stop avoiding me?!" Lou snatched your arm to make you stop walking. You stopped walking but didn't face her. "How many times do I have to tell you? Debbie is my best friend and I'm worried about her." She let your arm go. "Best friends? I'm 100% sure best friends don't look at each other like how you look at her, Lou. I'm not an idiot. I know how people look in love." You face her this time.
"You know what? Believe what you want to believe. Talk to me when you can trust my words." Lou said before leaving you standing in the hallway. "Action speaks louder, Lou." You whisper, breaking your heart.
I'm way too good at goodbyes (I'm way too good at goodbyes) I'm way too good at goodbyes (I'm way too good at goodbyes)
They got all the jewelry and successfully framed Becker. They are all gathered in the loft, drinking champagne and talking about the mission. When Tammy pointed out you're missing. Lou furrowed her eyebrows and looked for you around the loft. Finally, she had the brains to check your room.
It was empty. All of your belongings were gone. There was only a note on your bed.
Dear Lou,
Congratulations to the successful mission. I want you to know that I love you and I'm setting you free. Even though we weren't officially together. You mean so much to me, and it pains me to leave you, but you deserve someone better. Don't worry. I'm not taking this to heart as I'm already used to it.
I'm sorry that I'm too good at goodbyes.
Goodbye Lou.
Y/N.
That's when Lou realized she should have paid more attention to you. Now you are gone.
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horrificshit · 4 months
Text
Limits.
Dom!Lou miller x Sub!Reader
Warning(s): Smut, dumbification, strap on?, daddy kink, age gap
A/N: I decided to write this in a first person point-of-view. Why? Don’t ask me.
Words: 1.8k
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Ding!
The sound of my phone going off. Curiosity peaks, I pick up my phone, revealing who messaged me:
Incoming message from Lou💕:
Lou💕: “Hey baby, I’m out doing some errands, can you be dressed by the time I’m home?”
Oh? Why does she want me dressed? Maybe we’re going somewhere fancy? Surely not.. Surprisingly, going to places which require dressing up for are a rare occurrence.
I shoot a text back, giving a response to Lou’s message.
You: “Okay! Should I dress fancy?”
Lou💕: “Yes, you’ll see why once I’m home 😉”
I get up from my once cave-like spot in the king size bed, giving up the warmth of the bedsheets. The room is quite cold due to the crispness of the winter weather in late January.
Speed walking to the closet, I sift through a number of dresses; all of different colors, lengths, patterns, and materials.
a long sleeve dress was obviously the ethical choice given the weather, but a short, skintight dress seemed more ethical in my opinion. Who cares about being cold when id feel like the sexiest girl in the room?
My eyes land on a white satin dress. I don’t think I’ve ever worn this one. Where did I get it again? Maybe from high school prom.
Bleh. Prom. I always hated prom. And evidently, I only went that one time. Brian Richards, the boy I went with, he ended up being a huge duche.
Whatever.
I slip on the dress, and— oh my god. I could literally fuck myself. The dress, it hugs all my curves in all the right places. My collar bones stick out and I find that extremely sexy, and hopefully Lou will think the same.
Shoes.
Grab a pair of white heels. Not to tall, not too short.
My jewelry is dainty. a gold necklace with a small heart. So small in-fact, you can hardly see it. Large gold pearl earrings accompany the necklace.
I trot over to my vanity, gathering a few products: primer, concealer, blush, highlighter, mascara, and lipgloss. Simple, yet bold.
My hair lies in a simple half-up-half-down with, of course, a white bow in the back.
And, just as I get finished, I hear that familiar ding of my phone, notifying me that Lou must be here for me. I check my phone, and to my expectation, I see an incoming message from the older woman.
Incoming message from Lou💕:
Lou💕: “I’m here. Take your time, the reservation isn’t until 6:30.”
Smiling, I put my phone down and take a look in the mirror. Hopefully she likes it as much as I do.
I grab my small brown purse and take yet another look in the mirror, giving one last check before going out the door to greet my girlfriend.
Overall outfit:
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I walk toward Lou’s sports car, the cold nipping me in the butt. Literally and figuratively. I sort of regret wearing a sleeveless dress, but whatever, I look amazing.
Lou unlocks the car door, and I enter the vehicle. She looks like she’d seen a ghost from how she was looking at me. Did I look that good?
Her eyes rake up my entire body, stopping at my lips. I smile, flattered and proud of myself that I indeed, do look that good.
“Where are we going?” I inquire, still having not been told why I had to get all dolled up. “Somewhere fancy.” Chuckles Lou, already having naughty thoughts.
She takes the initiative to reach her hand over and grasp onto my thigh. I squeak, not being prepared for her to touch me, but relax a few seconds later.
Some time goes by and I decide to take in what Lou herself is wearing:
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She wears a black turtleneck top, a black leather jacket atop. Black skinny jeans, the type that hug her curves, or in reality, her ass, in the most perfect way.
In correlation with the rest of her outfit, she wears black heeled boots. And of course, in typical Lou fashion, her plethora of necklaces lay on top of her chest.
The car stops, and the older woman squeezes my thigh, silently letting me know she’s going to let go, and that we’ve arrived at the final destination.
“We’re here,” Lou says with a smirk. I look up and see a restaurant with a name I cannot even pronounce. At least without stuttering that is. The restaurant looked exclusive; like we weren’t allowed in. But, according to my girlfriend, we are.
We both get out of the car, and I immediately am reminded of how cold it is outside. Lou takes notice of my shivering, and ushers me inside of the restaurant.
The girl in the front greets Lou and I. “Hello, welcome to Novitá, do you have a reservation?”
Lou grabs her phone, pulling up a digital receipt. I didn’t even know that was a thing, but the world changes everyday, I suppose.
“Here,” Lou shows the girl the receipt, looking back at me with a smile.
“If it doesn’t work, my reservation should be under the name Lou Miller.”
She types in her name and smiles back, grabbing two menus. “This way,” we’re leaded to our table, which Lou previously reserved days before.
We both order our drinks, champagne for myself, whilst Lou opts for an ‘old fashioned’, or in other words, whiskey, sugar, and water.
She obviously has a stronger tolerance to alcohol than I do, because I could never handle the extreme burn of whiskey going down my throat. Other things maybe, but definitely not that.
The drinks arrive, and the girl from before, who, upon reading her name tag, appears to be Arabella.
She takes our orders, and apologizes for any delays, the restaurant appears to be quite busy. I look around and take note of the ‘noble looking’ people surrounding the table we’re sat at. We don’t look nearly as rich as them.
“Y/N? What do you want to order?” I’m snapped out of my trance by Lou and brought back into reality. I look at her, and back down at the menu that rests in my hands. ‘Gnocchi di Patate’. That sounds delicious. But wait, $34.99?? How is she getting all of this money?
I open my mouth after some time and tell the waitress what I want. She writes it down, and tells us it may be a while, and to enjoy our drinks.
“So,” Lou starts. She rubs her foot up my leg, making me squirm slightly at the feeling. “I thought you deserved a treat for being such a good girl.”
I look into her eyes. Completely blown out. I can’t help but the small smirk on my face, knowing all to well how this will end: with me bent over,screaming her name, her hand muffling the noise.
“Are you not gonna say anything? Daddy paid a lot of money for this, I think I deserve to at least hear your voice.” I look down, not being able to carry out the eye contact. She continues to rub my leg underneath the table. Good thing there’s a satin mat, covering the whole length of the table, down to the floor.
“I-“ words weren’t an option at this point. My mind is far too small at the moment to even comprehend anything else but the husky voice of the older woman across from me.
“What? Cats got your tongue?,” She starts, staring at me like she’s the predator and I’m her delicious little prey.
“,or are you just too dumb to use your words?” Continues Lou, sending me into a serene headspace. My mind is completely blank, besides the vision of the woman across from me.
TIME SKIP
We finish up with our food, no words being exchanged between Lou and I. Just her speaking to me. Telling me that she thinks I’m beautiful, though some ways more appropriate than others.
The check arrives and she pulls out her platinum card, swiping it. I can’t help but feel bad that she spent that much on me, between the cost of my drink, and the food.
“You ready?” She inquired.
“Mhm.”
I appear to be shy, but in reality, I’m extremely horny. She’s been teasing me all night, and I just know that there’s more in store. If not at home, she’s likely to get impatient and do her business in the car.
Buckling into the car seat, she revs up the engine. I look up at her, smiling innocently with my signature doe eyes. Unlike my own, her eyes are completely blown out. She’s more that ready to pounce when given the chance. Pounce being her having her way with me; not that I’d have a problem with that.
Lou’s hand once again finds its spot on my thigh, where it remains for the duration of the car ride, occasionally feeling a squeeze every now and then.
“I really don’t like how quiet you’re being,” Lou confronts, the once silent car ride no longer.
“What’s wrong?”
Silence.
I just can’t get any words out. Even if I were to try, the only thing that’ll come out is a string of whimpers and sounds. Words just aren’t an option at this moment.
Then, the whirring of the car’s engine stops, Her key taken out of the fob. Lou turns to me, hands still on my body.
“Baby. Did I do something? Daddy would feel terrible if she hurt her baby.” Her hands wander up my legs, stopping at the end of my dress.
Soft hands caress my calf, smiling as she knows what she’s doing.
“Lou.. not in the car…” I say in an extremely small voice, the headspace Lou has created for me completely taking over my mind.
“Fine,” she opens the car door, walking to my side, opening the door for me. “Inside. I want you on the bed, stripped.” The older woman said in her husky voice.
Once we made it up to her apartment, she unlocked the door, and I made a b-line to the bedroom.
Taking one last look in the mirror, I slip off my dress and take off my shoes, revealing a matching white lingerie set:
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Climbing on top of Lou’s bed, I wait patiently for her return.
“I guess you are a good girl then,” Lou says, the door slowly creeping open. “, and I see you’re wearing my present.”
Lou bought me this set a while back to celebrate her and Debbie’s successful heist. I’ve never been a huge fan of her job, but she enjoys it, so I can’t see a problem with that.
Slow steps, excruciatingly slow, inch their way toward me. “Nothing to say, huh?” Now crawling on top of me, I can’t help but let out a small whine.
Lou chuckles at my pathetic sound, enjoying the power she has against me and my body.
“You know,” The older woman starts, huskily. “I wish I could get you to tell me what’s up.”I want to speak; say something, anything, but I know the only thing that would come out is my silent pleas, and a string of cries.
She scoffs at my silence. My eyes are burning from the tears that threaten to fall, my mind and body so sexually frustrated. “I suppose we’re going to have to do this the hard way.”
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blackacre13 · 2 years
Note
Hi! I so love your writings 😭 and I've seen fanart of loubbie in the snow globe scene on twitter and I immediately think of you. I think you're the the best one to write While You Were Sleeping AU with Debbie as Lucy and Lou as Jack. Of course if you just want to😄 Thanks🫶
Hi anon! Thank you so so much❤️ gah I don’t think I’ve seen that but I’ll have to scope it out because it sounds adorable. I’ve definitely recommended it on here before but @how-to-sit-gay beat me to this AU and did it WAY more Justice than I ever could and is EXACTLY what you are looking for. You just need a cozy blanket and a mug if something warm before you cuddle up with it. (Linked below!) as a bonus, I will also say, the novel Kiss Her Once For Me by Allison Cochurn is a sapphic retelling! The whole time I was like why does this feel like a While You We’re Sleeping AU👀 (turns out it started there!)
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girlbloggersfolly · 27 days
Text
DELTA DAWN - part 2// Bee in your bonnet
Pairing: camp counselour!joel miller x camp lifeguard!afab!reader
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Rating: E!!!!! 18+ MDNI
Word count: 4.8k
Summary: (1979 summer camp AU) Things go south one morning after a particularly catty argument between Joel and our lifeguard in Joel's boat shed/self proclaimed 'man cave'. - Pictures in the moodboard are simply to get the imagination racing and for me to spill my pinterest all over your screens, the reader is at no point described!
Chapter warnings: age gap (20 + 49), enemies to loves - i mean it, mean!joel, lowkey mean!reader but we love them both, slight vouyerism, cigarette smoking, talk of pornographic magazines, complicated relationship (billy and reader dw), oral (fem receiving), semi-public sex (door open but thats it, degrading, pet names (kiddo, sweetie, doll - the good stuff ykyk), fingering idk, slow burn, fem!masturbation dirty talk, no descriptors of reader except she has hair and is a similar height to joel cause im tired of the lack of tall girl representation in fics, sorry... if that ruins it for you just imagine i never said that), NO USE OF Y/N.
a/n: eekkkk ok you can probably tell from his horrific piece of writing that ive never done proper smut and i went a little overboard but i'm sure you'll like it anyway. i've probably got one or two more parts of their story left in me, depending on how happy i want the ending to be. Id love to get requests if anyone has any bright ideas! I love the 3 people who are reading this, it really makes me blush and you don't even know it.... also lmk if you want to be on the taglist for any future writings xxxx
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You were up in the chair early. Waking especially to sit and watch as the sun rose higher over the lake and above the pines, hoping to get there before Joel, just so you had time to ground yourself. You toyed with the cigarette between your fingers, a habit of yours that had really been getting you through the last agonising couple of days of avoiding Joel Miller, but there was no putting it off this morning. 
Kayaking. Something you’d never really specialised in and were not convinced you'd know how to deal with if things were to go south.However, as always, you kept your doubts to yourself. Joel was taking the kids today, he was good with them and obviously knew what he was doing on the water. You hoped that meant no accidents.
“No smoking in the chair, cupcake.” Here we go again.
“Good morning to you too, cupcake.” You rolled your eyes, not bothering to turn around to see the one thing on your frazzled mind, not bothering to put out the cigarette either, 
“Kids’ll be here soon, Lou’s bringin’em” He said coldly in reply, standing beside your chair, his face level with your hips as he looked out to the water.
 Even being raised above him like this you still felt vulnerable, what was it about him? He turned to look up at you with his big arms crossed against his torso, “so, be a doll and put that thing out f’me will’ya?” The chair rocked slightly as he patted it, condescending as ever. 
You rolled your eyes yet again and dropped the cigarette down beside his feet, raising your eyebrows. It was bratty and yeah probably a little crueller than required, but it felt damn good. “Happy?” you were pushing it, really pushing it, you could see it in Joel's hard expression. his impressive profile was only defined by the hot mid-morning sun as he glared up at you through narrowed eyes. He put on his ray-bans and turned away. =
The kids hung onto every word he said as he stood in front of you explaining to them how to kayak, in a way they never did with Billy or Abel, or even Sharon. You tried to listen, tried to look out at the lake, tried to do something that wasn't blatantly staring at his tight ass, the muscles in his back under his t-shirt. It was torture, adjusting in your chair, shifting around like a bitch in heat. 
“Eyes on the water, lifeguard,” He taunted you from the deck, you’d really needed to remember your sunglasses next time. 
If you thought the other day was bad, this was worse, sitting there melting into your lifeguard chair watching Joel being the hottest man alive and not caring how it might make you feel. The kids were playing capture the flag in the woods by the light of the setting sun, giving you a minute to cool off against a tree, the cigarettes lighting themselves at this point. 
Your skin was lit up by the orange light that dotted through the trees as it sunk below the horizon. It was the first moment of mercy you’d gotten from this god-awful day of Joel Miller and his stupid tanned skin, the little sweat droplets on the back of his neck, his salt and pepper scruff, the thought of how it would feel against your inner-
“Found you,” You smelt Billy before you saw him, his freckled arms embracing you from behind, knocking you out of your dreamy state. 
“You know this thing? It's called a shower, real cool I hear?” You chuckled, trying to laugh a little to disguise it as a joke, the last thing it was.
“Haha, very funny,” Billy smirked, planting wet kisses across your neck from behind, the moustache he’d been trying to grow tickling your jaw. 
“Quit it,” You raised your hands, your shoulders tensing like an alarmed cat as he grinds messily against you, “There's kids around you little shit.”
Billy murmured a chuckle against your skin, his tongue tracing against it, a sensation that had the hairs on your arms standing up. “I’ll make it quick,” Now there was something you could count on. 
“I said quit,” you turned abruptly to look at him, brushing yourself off, realising the harsh tone of voice you’d used. He looked pained, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes darting around your face quizzically. 
“You know what,” Billy folded his arms, looking you up and down bitterly, “Im tired of you being a fuckin’ prude the whole time,” His voice was raised, whiny, trying to sound like his father. 
You scoffed, putting your head in your hands and shaking your head in disbelief, this kid was insane. “Its not my duty to fuck you whenever you so wish, christ, you really are an entitled son of a gun,” 
Billy stamped out his cigarette onto the ground, “Nasty bitch,” he shook his head, spitting on the floor, charming. “Don’t know why I even bother.” He marched off, back to his cabin probably, off to write another song about how much he hates women you’d have the pleasure of hearing at his next gig.
The day was dragging, it seemed unceasing, like this spiralling, horny, angry mess that was your body. The forest was quiet again without Billy’s cursing, often you’d hear a distant shout from a kid who’d been caught or a group of them running around, but it was hard to differentiate from a bird call, or the wind in the trees.
“Trouble in paradise.” Great. 
“Look, I am not in the mood, so be a sweetie and kindly fuck the fuck off.” 
That earnt an impressed chuckle from behind you, another pair of broad shoulders leaning beside you on the tree. “S’ my darn woods, ‘do whatever the hell i like, thank you missy,”
“Joel I'm serious, whatever witty little jabs you're cooking up, save them for another day,” You looked to him, it was hard to look away whenever you did. 
“Wasn’t,” He shrugged, there was that gruff, southern nonchalance yet again, christ how it got to you, the complete opposite of Billy’s incessant bitching. You almost wished he cared enough to go off on you the way Billy tried to. 
“Well…” you paused, eyes darting over his face, the strong profile, low set brows, those pouty lips you’d gotten pretty damn used to this week. “Dont,” you concluded.
“You really do have a bee in your bonnet don't you, kiddo,” there it was, just as you’d predicted, calm and collected and making you want to blow his brains out.
You shrugged. “Its Billy,” You shook your head, well that was only one of the bees in your very buzzy bonnet, Joels fucking face was the other. “You heard?” 
He nodded, “I heard enough,” you both stood in the ambience of the evening, kids whooping, birds sounding from the trees. “Billy’s a dick you know that, ‘don’t know a single fucker from here to Timbuktu that dont know that,”  
You couldn't help but chuckle, relaxing further against the tree, your shoulders untensing for the first time in weeks, forgetting who the enemy was. “You know fuckers in Timbuktu?” 
“I bet I do,” he nodded, crossing his arms against his broad chest, the camp staff t-shirt barely accommodating his largeness. 
Joel sighed, looking over at you, “got one of them cancer sticks you're always suckin’ on?” you had a whole pack of them in your back pocket. 
He thanked you and lit one with the janky lighter you'd stolen from Abel, smoke muddying your view of him. There was a lull. “I don't know why you lead that bastard on,” he said through the smoke. 
“Im hardly leading him on,” You scoffed, lighting a cigarette for yourself. “He was the one who wanted to keep this to strictly fuck-buddies,” Lucky for you, imagine being Billies girlfriend, jeepers.
“Sounds like you can’t even do that?” he smirked, and there he was again. 
“You know, as I find myself repeating these days, s’really none of your business,” you laughed, turning to him, sighing through the familiar heat in your abdomen, the butterflies that felt more like horse flies in your stomach back and buzzing harder than ever. 
“You're makin’ it my business, havin’ your lover's spat in my earshot.” he retaliated calmly.
you opened your mouth to bite back with something that attempted to match his condescension, but that was an impossible task. “You know what,” you settled on, again grasping for something to finish that sentence. “Fuck,” again you were gotten the better of.
“I’m stuck with him for the next three weeks, so, gotta keep sweet for that long I guess, maybe put out a couple times.” 
He nodded, stamping out his cigarette next to billies, “S’a damn shame,” The eye contact felt like glass in your eyes, felt a big hand twisting your throat till it turned blue, it was those eyes of his in that permanent, laboured squint which you assumed came with age, they killed you. A damn shame. The words played on repeat like a song on Sharon's broken radio, the static soiling his voice in your mind. A damn shame. He was right, it was a damn shame. 
“Would you make sure to deal with those kayaks tomorrow morning’, lifeguard? Just gotta pile em’ up in the shed,” He said over his shoulder as he turned to saunter away. 
Before you could get your bearings, you were alone again, admittedly less grateful for it too. 
Morning, kayaks, shed. Sounded like a relatively agreeable task that wasn't asking too much right? Wrong. You were lucky your body had gotten into the rhythm of waking up at sunrise cause this was a goliath task. Hauling 15 kayaks from one side of the lake to the other wasn't something you’d factored into your morning of rest and relaxation. You’d planned to take a secret dip, maybe grab a coffee, take a shower if you had time. But no, you were out sweating under the morning sun, huffing like a workhorse.
When the last kayak was hauled into the dirty little shed you reclined on the desk, all dusty and grotty but it didn’t even matter. Heck, you weren't even perturbed by the smug house spider that was perched close to your palm, not even giving a second thought to the porn magazine discarded beside your head. All you could think about was how this wasn't what you’d bargained for when you agreed to go on this little jaunt up to the northwest, oh yeah, and how much you hated Joel Miller. 
After a couple of minutes of huffing and puffing, grumbling to yourself about how you were meant to be in LA by now, living a rich and famous life as some kind of starlet, a model, an actress maybe. The shed was a mess, every surface littered with junk. There was fishing equipment, books, more beer cans than you could count, the whole thing screamed Joel. 
Soon, without even meaning to, your nimble fingers were straightening objects, tossing the cans into the bin, dusting, flicking through boxes, you even took the spider outside. 
“Hey,” You heard a jumpy voice from behind you, clearly receiving the same fright you’d got from the sound of his voice. “What are you-” It was Joel, an accusatory expression all over his knitted brow. He saw the small desk bin behind your back, the cans in it, he saw the neat shelves and dusted desk with all his papers stacked orderly. 
“Hey hey hey, I have a system..” Joel bolted over to where you stood, snatching the bin out of your hands, his knuckles grazing yours, you were in deep if such a small gesture made your heart drop so far down. “There's a system,” he repeated, running a hand through his hair and leaning back on his uncluttered desk, looking… pained, addled by the whole thing. 
You scoffed, enjoying seeing Joel off guard, it was always you getting snuck up on, getting caught in a vulnerable situation. “Is the system complete chaos, cause wow Joel, im impressed,” you put your hands on your hips, your little red shorts riding dangerously high. 
“No one asked you to go messing in my affairs,” he tutted, rubbing his brow, god he was a drama queen. 
“Your affairs?” you laughed maniacally, “By your affairs do you mean a few dozen beer bottles, some dusty kayaks and your crusty spank bank mag?” 
He scoffed, looking down at the magazine down on the desk. He'd been got, he’d give you that. “Just clear off, don’t need your bitchin,” He turned his back on you, tampering with your neat new order on his desk, “too damn early,”
You were furious, not even a thank you? If not for drastically improving his workspace, at least for stacking the kayaks, a lot of work if you did say so yourself. “Are you kidding,” you whined, walking up to stand behind him, trying to get his attention. 
“I’ve been doing hard fucking labour, sleepy head, what were you doing? Jerking it into a porn mag I'm guessing?” he chuckled at this, turning over his shoulder to look at your exasperated expression. “Hard labour?” he murmured, audibly amused by your claim.
“Oh you poor thing,” he mocked, turning round fully to look at you, “Doll, you ain’t done a day of hard labour in your pretty little life.” He smirked wildly.
“You don’t know a thing about my life Miller,” you said, sounding like some cheesy cowboy movie, his accent rubbing off on her a little. This caused a full belly laugh to erupt from him, it caught you off guard.
“Your life ain't nothin’ but sunshine and rainbows, sugar, maybe a day’a ‘hard labour’ would do you some good.” He chuckled, walking across the room and correcting the ‘mess’ you made of his ‘system’. “Fuck you,” you bellowed, crossing your arms, your eyes wide and full of fury as you watched him in all his casual, condescending glory. 
“You are maybe the most infuriating motherfuck on this damn earth,” you said through your teeth, so mad, so hot, so done with it all. He just chuckled again, raising his eyebrows, you were starting to just want his attention, wanting him to reciprocate your anger, not caring how you got there. 
“And by the way, I don't care how you see it, I've been up all morning slaving away at something I am certainly not paid for and I don't even get a thank you?” You blurted out, the words falling out of you, you convinced yourself you felt sweat actually drip from your chin. 
He turned to you, annoyingly amused, but there was something else, an underlying rage that really disrupted the usual sedate presence he provided. “Thank you?” He smirked, quirking an eyebrow. 
You paused, never had you ever felt so damn angry at a man. “Listen up-” you began with a huff before being interrupted by Joel stalking over to you with a hostile smirk on his face. Towering over you even though you were a similar height, you backed up against his desk very slightly, trying to keep your chin raised cockily. 
“Are you always this fuckin’ cranky?” he shook his head in amused disbelief and let out an exasperated scoff at the stuttering look on your face. 
You could feel your heart beating like that of a hamster, hammering against your chest. He was so close you could smell him, old spice deodorant, campfires, the slightest tang of sweat and lake water, also the musty dust smell of the shack, you thought you might faint like some Victorian chick. 
He was close, too close for comfort, his muscular frame, the threat of a non-sedate Joel wasn't something that settled you. You gazed into those eyes of his, narrow and all-seeing under a thick, heavy brow. “How’re we gonna cheer you up, huh kiddo?” He raised his eyebrows in mock concern, your mouth was left agape, eyes so wide they might pop. Joel was closer now, looking down at her very slightly, his breath fanned over her face. Holy fuck.
“Can’t have you all bitchy after doin’ me one little task, now can we?” He said after a beat, placing his hand on your jaw, wiping away a caked bit of dirt, probably from all that ‘hard labour,’ his big thumb moved from your jaw to swipe across your lips softly, gently feeling the plush, pillowy skin, freshly chapstick-ed from the Carmex in your pocket. “Can we, sugar?” he repeated the rhetorical question down at you. She shook her head lightly, the obedience hitting her like a 10 foot wave. 
“That's better, that's it, that's better,” He said softly, like he was talking to a jumpy animal. “Not so hard being a nice girl is it now? Not so bad?” he cocked his head and raised her brow, she shook her head absentmindedly once more, completely entranced by whatever was happening to her right here against Joel's desk. 
He nodded, his hand darting between your teeth, his other fingers holding your jaw still underneath. The other hand rested precariously on your thigh, leaning closer so you were sat up on the desk, right beside the dirty mag. 
He let his hand trace drowsy circled under the hem of your shorts, his eyes following, “Think you're cute?” he smirked, his eyes told a different story, taunting, stormy. “walkin' round in those little damn shorts, all prissy, like you own the place?” He said darkly, almost to yourself, holding your eyes with his, his thumb swiping between your teeth, pressing the pad against your tongue. “Suck,” You did it straight away, hollowing your cheeks out and letting whatever this was happen.
You convinced yourself it was some kind of gross fever dream, being out in the heat for the last few days had given you hallucinations, but it felt real, the taste was real on your tongue, his taste. you lapped it up like medicine. 
He clenched his jaw and gazed at your lips wrapping around his thick thumb, fuck. His fingers grazed the seam of your bikini bottoms under your shorts, he could already feel how warm you were down there, how much this was getting to you. He held eye contact with you as he pulled your shorts off, motioning for you to lift your ass, you were feeling compliant, a rare feeling. 
Your bikini bottoms followed, leaving you bare on the desk, the lifeguard top riding up your midriff revealing your glistening (very 70s (interpret that however you like)) cunt to the daylight that streamed in through the open door - a risk Joel seemed to be taking, or something he probably hadn't even considered. 
He rolled his neck, his hands on his hips, he seemed to be considering his options, weighing up the consequences. You pushed your knees together, hoping for a little modesty, the answer was no as Joel's big hands reached down and parted your legs once again. 
“Ah, ah, baby,” he smirked wildly, truly a man starved. He reached down and dragged his finger between your folds, holding the wet digit to the light. It was all achingly slow, he sucked his finger clean, his eyes on yours as he tasted you, letting out a gruff, guttural groan. 
“This gonna keep you sweet?” he said with an icy smirk, her skin was like a furnace; a sweaty, wet, flustered, confused puddle on this desk, dripping everywhere. “Keep you outta my way for a couple days maybe, kiddo?” He chuckled, looking at her domineeringly. “How’s that sound?” 
You nodded eagerly, your expression desperate, whiny, you needed this bad. “When you touch yourself, whadd’ya think 'bout?” he taunted, leaning a hand either side of your hips on the desk, “You,” you gave in, it was just too easy when he talked to you like that. 
“Show me,” He smirked, his words almost a growl, you raised your eyebrows. “Your a pretty little idiot aren'cha?” Now he was just being mean. “Touch yourself the way you do when you're in your cabin, up in your bunk, squirmin’ around,” 
It was so easy, to let him order you around, to succumb to it. The heat, all the bantering, it had melted you into putty in his hands, it’d get to anyone. So there you were, on Joel Miller's desk, bare on the bottom half, your hand drawing tight circles around your aching clit. 
“Fuck,” you bit down on your lip, it was all overwhelming, the feeling of an orgasm coiling around your spine, the blistering, green-house-type heat that had you all rosy and sweaty, the fact that Joel was stood right there, crossing his arms, watching you like a hawk. You knew he’d be a voyeur. 
You watched as his wire snapped and he’d had enough of just watching, adjusting the tent in his shorts. He knelt down in front of you, his eyes looking bigger than usual from this angle, wilder almost feral. he pulled at your hips violently, hoisting you around so your back was flat against the desk, your head leant up against the wall so you could watch exactly what he was going to do to you. 
His mouth was hot against you, licking a stripe up your seam. You could’ve sworn you heard him moan at the taste, felt the vibrations against your core. “This cunt is wasted on Keenan,” He chuckled, not even pulling away from you to lay his jab at Billy, he never could resist the chance. 
You moaned loudly, your hair flying into his hair, feeling the chocolatey, salt and pepper ends in your fingers and you pulled hard, close now. “Don’t fucking stop,” you whimpered, grinding your hips against his face, nose deep in your pussy. 
“Fuck, does he kiss it this good, doll?” He murmured, the vibrations of his baritone drawl against your aching clit were enough to make you toss your head back in sheer ecstasy, that coil winding uncomfortably tight, threatening to snap. 
“He doesn't.” you chuckled through moans, Billy had never ever eaten you out, no matter how many killer blowies you’d served to him on a silver platter. This seemed to appal Joel, who only licked deeper, slower against you, it was agonisingly good, toe curling. He scoffed down there, his thick index finger working at your hole now, dipping in easily despite how tight you were.
 “Poor thing, thas’ why you're so wound up,” He mewled from below, his voice patronising, taunting, but it touched you, “haven’t had someone take care of this pretty cunt in too long hmm? shit, I’d be mean too.” He said with a wet smirk, pulling away to slot another finger in, but you wouldn't give. “Won’t be able to take my cock if you can take two fingers down here,” He chuckled, taunting you further.
“Please don't stop Joel,” you squealed, pulling his hair painfully tight between your fingers, his condescending words only making you hotter, you weren’t usually into that, but shit, Joel could be wearing a fucking tutu and you’d be into it, come to think of it… 
He was grinning smugly as he pushed his fingers into you at a gruelling pace, the desk shook underneath you, your head thrown back against the wall. “Billy hasn't done me any damn favours down here, you're tight as a virgin, baby,” you could see the smirk on his stupid face even with your eyes clenched shut. 
Your release hit harder than it ever had before, your leg shook hard, a string of ‘fuck’s and ‘holy shit’s, laced with a fair pinch of ‘Joel’s and ‘baby’s, blurted out of your lips, you felt your abdomen clench and moaned incoherently, but Joel wasn't quitting, still kitten licking at your inflamed core, fingers curling up and into you, finding a new depth with every push. 
“Joel stop, it-its,” you panted, not even recognising your own voice now, your vision blurred. Overstimulated didn't even sum it up, that shit hurt. 
He didn't care, lost in your taste, lost in the feeling of you clenching around his digits. “Cocky little lifeguard, you're the bane of my life, you know that sweetie?” He said against your wetness, not giving a flying fuck how uncomfortable this was getting, knowing soon you’d ride it into another earth-eating orgasm. 
“Really shouldn't be doin’ this with’ya, Can’t be,” He said over your moans as the discomfort bled into insatiable pleasure, the desk hard against your clammy ass, your release leaking down your thigh and pooling below you. “Holy fuck-” you squealed, your hand on his shoulder to stop yourself from collapsing, the other interwined in his thick hair, that must’ve hurt. 
“How old even are you?” he asked with a mischievous chuckle, pulling his face away and slowing his hand movements, no no no no no. Your brain was fuzzy, all you could process was that Joel had stopped and that felt like death. “20,” She said quickly, needing him to continue. He knew what he was doing, taking a moment to process, watching the way you were squirming, so desperate for him yet again. 
“You're too young for me, kiddo,” He said as he dove back into your crotch, a very contradictory statement when reflected against his actions so far this morning, i know. “I am not,” you bit back through a whimper, pouting, your eyes fluttering shut once again.
 “How old’re you anyways,” you panted, your words all broken and high pitched, too fucked-out to feel humiliated. “76?” You chuckled, feeling your second orgasm of the morning chasing after you. 
He bit down ever so slightly on your clit, causing you to wince and buck your hips, it didn't cause any damage or hurt, just hard enough to shut your bratty ass up. “49, missy,” he replied coldly from below you. “Watch it,” 
“You wanna take my 76 year old cock next? think you can take it?” He smirked, pulling away to focus on his hand movements, in and out, hitting that spongy part of you, deeper than you could ever get. You nodded, words almost escaping you for the first time in your smart-ass life. He chuckled deeply at this, a hearty sound you were starting to crave like a meth-head. “She’s a trooper, ain’t she?” He breathed in your ear, planting a small, firm kiss on your neck, his fingers gaining a bruising pace, loud wails escaping your quivering lips.
“Fuck j-joel,” you stammered, your hot breath fanning against his neck, “want, need your cock,” you were getting needy, washed up by the incoming wave of your orgasm, ready to hit just as hard as before, if that was physically possible. “Don't get greedy now,” He smirked down at you, eyes wild. Hot tears were rolling down your cheeks, salty and stinging, your body shaking, giving way to another tortuous release. 
He pulled his hand away and sucked eagerly at his drenched fingers, watching as you came apart on the desk, moaning and whining for him. 
He sat you up, grabbing a coke from his outdoor refrigerator and leaning against it as he opened it, muscles flexing he clicked it open, tossing the bottle opener to the side and handing it to you. You grasped it with clammy palms, your vision slowly coming back, your body still fucked-out and trembling, cock-dumb for a cock you hadn't even had. 
“Welp,” He put his hands on his hips, like some suburban dad done with a barbecue, “that was real nice, weren't it?” He patted you on the shoulder, ignoring the bewildered expression on your face. 
“Duty calls, kids’ll be down here in an hour or so,” he slapped his thighs and raised his eyebrows, it was as if he’d just given you a friendly handshake, not eaten you out and made you cum twice. 
“Aren’t you going to..” you stopped yourself, you’d been awaiting the next round, (even if you weren't sure you could take another round) the one he’d talked about with that same smug look on his face as he finger-fucked you. 
He grinned down at her, ruffling your hair, “another time hey kiddo?” he said kindly, but it was perhaps the furthest thing from kind you’d ever seen. You glared up at him in disbelief, mouth agape, cheeks rosy, skin glassy from tears of pleasure, you didn't even know that was a thing. He patted you on the shoulder, smiling earnestly, that glint of mischief turned to one of absolute cruelty in his eyes. 
“Atta’ girl.” 
And he was gone. Joel was out the door as quickly as he’d entered, leaving you panting, bottomless and flushed and sweaty, your shorts half way across the room, the coke bottle dampening your fingers.
 He’d really done a number on you, gotten you all needy and riled up, then done something to you that no one had ever bothered with. Then he’d just left, like it wasn't the best you’d ever felt, like you hadn't been imagining how many babies you were going to give him, what colour flowers’d be in your bouquet at the wedding.
 It was embarrassing; being humiliated yet a-fucking-gain by a man well over twice your age, legs trembling on the soaked desk, the model on the front of his porno magazine beside you grinning up at you smugly, fucking bitch. 
29 notes · View notes
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Random Ships I Like In No Particular Order:
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* Loubbie- Lou Miller x Debbie Ocean- Ocean’s 8
* Sabina x Elena- Charlie’s Angels (2019)
* Macgyver x Riley- MacGyver (2016)
* Magnum x Higgins- Magnum PI (2018)
* Shoot- Shaw x Root- Person of Interest
* Rizzles- Rizzoli x Isles- Rizzoli & Isles
* Wondercheetah- Wonder Woman x Cheetah- DC
* Camren- Camila x Lauren- Fifth Harmony
* Blackhill- Natasha Romanoff x Maria Hill- Marvel
* Xialing x Katy- Shang-Chi
* Peggy Carter x Dottie Underwood- Agent Carter
* Supercorp- Kara Danvers x Lena Luthor- Supergirl
* Daniela x Carla- In The Heights
* Mira Harberg x Laurie- Irma Vep
* Judy Hale x Jen Harding- Dead To Me
* Florence x Madeleine- Gunpowder Milkshake
* Ronance- Robin Buckley x Nancy Wheeler- Stranger Things
* Eleanor x Drea- Do Revenge
* Harlivy- Harley Quinn x Poison Ivy- DC
* Wenclair- Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair- Wednesday
* Meddison- Meredith x Addison- Grey’s Anatomy
* Emily x Stephanie- A Simple Favor
* Mercymaker- Mercy x Widowmaker- Overwatch
* Akko x Diana- Little Witch Academia
* Dovesso- Professor Dovey x Lady Lesso- The School for Good and Evil
* Cassie Lang x Jentorra - Quantumania
* Spideypool- Spider-Man x Deadpool- Marvel
* Superbat- Superman x Batman- DC
* Batman x Catwoman- DC
* Princess Audrey x Wonder Woman- DCAU
* Jon Stewart (Green Lantern) x Hawkgirl (Shayera Hol)- DCAU
* StephCass- Stephanie Brown x Cassandra Cain- DC
* DinahBabs- Black Canary (Dinah Lance) x Oracle (Barbara Gordon)- DC
* DicKory- Nightwing (Dick Grayson) x Starfire (Koriand’r)- DC
* Wondermagic- Wonder Woman x Zatanna- DC
* Daphne x Velma- Scooby-Doo
* Cassie Dewell x Jenny Hoyt- Big Sky
* Choni- Cheryl Blossom x Toni Topaz- Riverdale
* Bechloe- Beca Mitchell x Chloe Beale-Pitch Perfect
* Khalopatra- Kleopatra x Frida Khalo- Clone High
* Talia Burns x Margot Fairmont- First Kill
* Question x Huntress- DCAU
* SuperWonderBat- Superman x Wonder Woman x Batman- DCAU
* Wonderhawk- Wonder Woman x Hawkgirl (Shayera Hol)- DCAU
* Dana Scully x Monica Reyes- X-Files
* Barbara (Barbie) Handler x Gloria- Barbie
* Julethief- Carmen Sandiego x Julia (Jules) Argent- Carmen Sandiego
* Seven Of Nine x Raffi Musiker- Star Trek
* Larissa Weems x Morticia Addams- The Addams Family
* Swanqueen- Emma Swan x Regina Mills- Once Upon A Time
* Alicia Florrick x Kalinda Sharma- The Good Wife
* Danny James x Cable McCrory- Bull
* Kim Possible x Shego- Kim Possible
* Peachline-Princess Peach x Mayor Pauline- Mario
* Gelphie- Elphaba Thropp x Glinda Upland- Wicked
* SamBucky- Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes- Marvel
* PeggyNat- Peggy Carter (Captain Carter) x Natasha Romanoff- What if?
* Maxine “Max” Baker x Abby Littman- Ginny & Georgia
* Ashrah x Nitara- Mortal Kombat
* Johnshi- Johnny Cage x Kenshi Takahashi- MK
* Barlissa- Barbara Howard x Melissa Shimmenti- Abbot Elementary
* Cabenson- Olivia Benson x Alex Cabot- Law & Order SVU
* Caroljess- Carol Danvers (Captain Marvel) x Jessica Drew (Spider-Woman)- Marvel Comics
* Bishlova- Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova- Hawkeye
* Chlonette- Chloe Burgeois x Marinette Dupain-Cheng- Miraculous Ladybug (in theory)
* Clawdeen x Draculaura- MH (Gen 1)
* Teleanor- Tahani Al Jamil x Eleanor Shellstrop- The Good Place
* Hanamusa- Jessie x Delia Ketchum- Pokémon
* Jemily- Emily Prentiss x Jennifer “JJ” Jareau- Criminal Minds
* Mellivia- Olive Pope x Melody “Mellie” Grant- Scandal
* Malvie- Mal x Evie- Descendants
* Mileena x Tanya- Mortal Kombat
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talk to me abt them if you want :)
couldn’t fit all the tags lol
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cowgurrrl · 8 months
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Lavender Girl
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Summary: A field trip [4.7k]
Warnings: financial stress, school fight, June once again introduces an ex, having a muse is creepy and weird, flirting that’s not flirting but it’s not not flirting, June putting her art history knowledge to work
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Most days, you're a good teacher. A teacher that students want to eat lunch with or inadvertently include in their silly TikToks. Most days, you're patient and kind and only have to raise your voice a handful of times, if only to be heard over the blanket volume level of teenage conversation. Today is not one of those days. "Guys!" You yell, pausing the music on your computer and turning to look at your class, obviously annoyed. "We're supposed to be talking about Picasso. I don't know why I'm hearing so much conversation about lunch." It's a lie. There was a fight between two students at lunch. It'd also been the topic of conversation in the teacher's lounge, but still.
"Miss, we already talked about Picasso!" One of your kids bemoans, and you raise your eyebrows at them. 
"So, if I asked you right now, you could tell me what historical event his painting Guernica is supposed to depict?" You ask. The entire class goes silent as you wait for a response that never comes, and you sigh. "Please, do your work."
The day started with getting yet another email from another gallery, this time from down south, telling you they loved your work but not enough to showcase or buy it. Then, a text from your manager letting you know that paychecks will be late because of technical issues with the system, even though you're already beyond broke. Then, a sad text from Andie about how she's feeling homesick and misses you and wishes you could get on a plane to come see her. Then, to top it all off, an email from your ex, Henry, popped up the second you pulled into the school. 
Hey, long time, no talk! I hope you're doing well. I wanted to reach out and let you know I've got an exhibition going up later next week and wanted to invite you to the opening. It's about-
You didn't read any further, anger and a wave of past emotions drowning you before you could. You and Henry were together all throughout college. You met during a freshman art class and were inseparable after that. He was tall, sensitive, and had a penchant for listening to country music when he worked, leading to many delirious nights spent crooning to Emmy-Lou Harris together. He surprised you with new paint and spontaneous trips to scenic parts of Texas to fuel your inspiration. You were happy for a long time. You even thought you'd marry him at one point. He wanted to be the next young, groundbreaking artist, making you his muse, no matter how many times you tried to assure him you were also an artist. Your work would go up in galleries and exhibitions, and everyone in your small program would gossip about the two of you. "He's so talented. It's insane," you heard one of your classmates say once. "And she's so beautiful." 
The compliment dug under your skin and stayed there as your relationship failed. You didn't want to be a muse anymore. You stopped letting him paint you in various states of undress and started asking for more alone time to work on your own stuff. You went from being the perfect, polished doll he could position however he wanted and started living in your paint-stained jeans and old, ratty shirt. You started arguing more and more, first about little things like why he left his paint water cups everywhere, and then about big things like your decision to pursue teaching and the "inspiration" he found in an impressionable freshman. He suddenly moved out after graduation without a word, leaving you to nurse your wounds in a half-empty apartment for the rest of your lease, and you hadn't heard from him until this morning. 
There's something more than the sting of hearing from him all these years later that bothers you. You're a high school art teacher struggling to make ends meet, and he's doing exactly what he set out to do. He's getting his work in front of his eyes and receiving praise for it. "Why do you wanna be a teacher when you can just be an artist?" He asked you one morning as you studied for your certification exams. "Or, at least, an artist's wife." 
"And what if I'm not good at that?" You asked. "Then what? I'm just supposed to be your muse for the rest of my life? Have kids to fuel someone else's inspiration and have no time for my own work? Wither away while you go on to make art and give talks and become a cynic? Fuck that." 
You stand by what you said, even all these years later, but there is an irony in that, even as a teacher, you don't have time to do your own work. Still, fuck that. The bell rings and signals the end of another class, and you quickly stand as students start packing up their stuff. "Okay, guys. Remember, your art history essay is due in two weeks! I'm excited to read all about everything you've learned since we started this unit. I love you, and please make good choices." You announce, hoping that at least some of them are listening to you, as they spill out of the classroom and the next students stream in. Ellie's sweet face is a welcome reprieve when she walks in. 
"Hey Bellie! How's your day going, kiddo?" You ask, and she smiles. You'll swear up and down all day that you don't have favorite students, but if you did, Ellie would be one of them. 
"Good. I have my signed permission slip for the art club field trip." She says. After your experience with Joel outside the bar, you couldn't sleep and knocked out all the field trip paperwork before falling asleep on your couch. But you weren't safe from his lips and broad shoulders, even in your subconscious. 
"Oh, my hero! I've been meaning to remind everyone about those. Thanks for getting that in so quickly." You say as she hands the paper to you, Joel's scribbly signature at the bottom. Somehow, you're not surprised that the box indicating he wants to be a chaperone is ticked. "Perfect. Your dad knows when the field trip is?" 
"Yeah. He wrote it down on his calendar and everything." She says, rolling her eyes fondly, and you laugh.
"Well, good, because I'm gonna need all the help I can get when I'm dealing with you guys."
"Hey!" She feigns offense as the bell rings, signaling the end of the passing period, and the last of your students comes running in. Ellie takes her seat near the front, and you grab your silly, colorful pointer to talk about Guernica, which is still proudly displayed on the board. After a quick art history lesson, you release them to work on the projects they've been working on for a week now. They still have a few more days before it's due, so more than half of them are slacking off quietly, which you're fine with. As long as you get a finished assignment at the end, they can do whatever they want.
You play quiet music as they work to help them focus and answer some emails. One email that catches your attention is from the parent of one of your students, Dalton, who's an amazing football player but is less than passionate about art, to say the least. You emailed his dad to let him know he was missing some assignments and could still turn them in late for only a slight penalty, but if he turns in nothing at all, you'll have no choice but to fail him. You also CC'd the football coach so he'd know the academic standing of one of his star players. Needless to say, you've been subject to a few not-so-nice emails from all parties involved. 
Once you're done firing off another round of emails, you decide to step away from your computer so you don't have to see the next reply until absolutely necessary. Walking around the room to answer questions, give opinions, or just hear what's happening in students' lives always makes you feel better. In one period, you helped a handful of students put the finishing touches on their projects, heard the latest gossip, and talked one of your girls out of sending a nasty text to the boy who just broke her heart. And they say teachers aren't important. 
The second you get a little bit of peace during your planning period, your phone buzzes with a notification. Given all the notifications and messages you've received today, you're hesitant to even pull it out of your pocket. But curiosity wins, and you open your phone to find a text from an unsaved number.
Is there anything I should bring to the field trip? Snacks, gum, alcohol?
You laugh to yourself and start typing a message back. 
Alcohol won't be necessary, but it might be good to bring some lunch and a few snacks. I think we're gonna try to have a picnic or something at the museum. 
Yes, ma'am.
You still feeling up to chaperone? Teenagers are no joke.
Do I need to remind you that I've raised two? I think I can handle a few more.
Oh, I can't wait to see this.
It can't be that hard, right?
On the day of the field trip, it turns out to be that hard. The only adults accompanying twenty teenagers to the museum are you and Joel. They're excited to be out of school and doing something new, but you can feel your migraine starting before you even get on the bus. Thankfully, the ride to the museum (and the traffic) calms them down, and they're more manageable by the time you arrive. A curator meets you outside the front doors and begins by walking your group through the outdoor sculptures, giving a little bit of history of the museum and the pieces themselves. The kids ask insightful questions and take turns snapping photos or even sketching a rough outline of the piece before moving on to the next. You stay at the front of the group while Joel manages the middle and back, silencing kids with a stern look. You fight a smile when you catch him and Ellie lingering at a sculpture, whispering to each other before he urges her forward and takes a sweet picture of her smiling in front of it. 
After the initial walk of the grounds, you stop to have lunch in a sunny garden and listen to the kids gush about their favorite part so far and what paintings they're most excited to see inside. 
"Miss, what's your favorite thing here?" Kayla asks.
"I like Dream Village by Chagall. If you find it before me, you'll have to let me know." You say. "Do you have a favorite?"
"Not yet. Maybe I'll find it today." Kayla says.
"I like that attitude!"
"Kissass." Jacob coughs, and you both give him a look. You can feel Joel's eyes burning a hole in the back of your head as you stare at Jacob.
"What's my policy?" 
"Are you really gonna make me say it?"
"Yep." You say, and he sighs.
"You can be anything you want to be, but you're not allowed to be a dick." He mumbles.
"Exactly. So, please, be nice," you say as you fish around in your lunch box for something. "Here, have a cookie. It might help make you feel a little better." He mutters a little thanks and unwraps it, already in a better mood after one bite, and you smile. 
"You just carry around cookies, waiting for a kid to be in a bad mood?" Joel asks, and you turn to look at him. He's wearing a plain blue t-shirt and jeans with sunglasses sitting atop his head, but you think it might be your favorite thing he's worn in your presence. You like it when he wears color.
"It was my cookie, but he needs it more than I do," you shrug. "Besides, things like that are a great morale booster. It's hard to be grumpy when you've got something sweet." 
"I'm inclined to agree with you." He quips a little too smoothly, his eyes flicking across your face and down to your lips, and you feel your cheeks getting hot. Thankfully, all the kids have returned to their own conversations and couldn't care less about what the Adults are talking about. 
"You're relentless." You whisper.
"Do you want me to stop?" He whispers back, and you sigh. If you were a stronger or better person, you might be able to think fast enough to come up with a response, but you're not. So, you just look at him and rack your brain for something to say but come up empty. "That's what I thought." He smiles and offers you his sweating Dr. Pepper can as a peace offering. You roll your eyes at his smug look but take a sip anyway. 
Once everyone is done eating, you all stand and make your way into the museum lobby, the kids already chattering about what they want to see. 
"Okay, you guys are free to roam but please, please, please remember that you're representing not only the school but also me. Be respectful and kind, and please don't act like you've never been in public before, okay? Go, be free." You say before the kids split off into their little groups with their obligatory activity in hand. Ellie stays near Joel, only a little shy, until Kayla turns around suddenly and waves her on.
"Ellie, c'mon!" She says. Ellie takes a few steps in her direction before turning to look back at Joel.
"Go. I'll be okay." He says.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Now go. Have fun." She doesn't need any more encouragement after that and skitters off with the rest of the kids, leaving you and Joel alone in the atrium. 
"She's doing really well." You tell him even though he can clearly see for himself. 
"Thanks to you." 
"All I did was give her a push."
"Take the credit. You deserve it." He says, his lips pulling into that award-winning smile. 
You fall into silence as you walk through the different galleries, Joel never too far behind you. Sometimes, he'll start at the opposite end of the room and work his way down until you meet in the middle, making a deliberate effort to bump your shoulder or hand as he passes. Other times, he'll stay right next to you, and, for some reason, it doesn't bother you. You like being so close to him and feeling his eyes work over the piece like it's a puzzle he doesn't quite know how to work. When he can't stand the quiet anymore, he'll whisper a question to you about the artist or the history, his breathing fanning out across your neck and making the hair there stand on end. 
After moving through a big part of the museum together, you and Joel end up at the same painting as the dull hum of voices fills the space between you. You smile to yourself, practically hearing him trying to find something to say as he stands there and observes how the lines of bright colors follow each other. Some are stark and almost resemble lightning in how they move around the canvas, but others are muted, blended together with careful precision and patience. It's hard to imagine what West Texas could've been like in 1953, but this makes it a little easier.
"What's this one supposed to mean?" Joel mumbles, leaning ever so conspicuously into you. 
"I can't tell you." You mumble back, and he finally turns to look at you head-on. You meet his eyes with an amused smile, and he shakes his head at you.
"You're really not gonna tell me?"
"I can't tell you what art is supposed to mean to you. I can't tell anyone that." 
"But, you're a teacher."
"If you're asking me for an art history lesson, I'd be happy to help, but that's about all I can do for you."
"'S cruel and unusual punishment."
"If art and culture are cruel and unusual punishment, why'd you sign up to chaperone?"
"Maybe I wanted to see my friend," he says, bumping you with his shoulder, and you laugh a little too hard. "What? We can't be friends? Is there a school policy against that, too?" 
"Nope, no school policy. I just," You pause and revel in how enraptured he looks at every movement, pause, and breath you take. "I already have friends, so..."
"Oh, and you're 'fraid of bein' too popular?"
"Famously." You say, and he chuckles next to you. You go back to staring at the painting quietly with him so close you can feel his body heat. You're the one to break this time, knocking him with your shoulder to get his attention again. You didn't need to. When you glance at him, you see his focus is on you, not the painting. "It's Texas. Canyon, to be more precise. Up by Amarillo where there's nothing but cattle and desert. O'Keeffe taught out there for a few years and wanted to paint something that showed how big the West is. It's supposed to make you feel like you're two feet tall and seeing the sky for the first time. For her, it might've been the first time in a long time she'd gotten to see a sunset that big. So, she painted it so other people could enjoy sunsets like that. It's like a love letter." 
"How d'you do that?" He asks once you're finished explaining, and you furrow your eyebrows. 
"Do what?" 
"Make little things seem so beautiful." He answers easily, like you asked him what color the sky is. You don't know what to say. What are you supposed to say to something like that?
"'S just what art does." You shrug and break away from his gaze to look at the painting, if only to not feel him staring into your soul.
"No, it's what you do to it. 'S why those kids love you so damn much. You make everythin' feel like a masterpiece, even the little things." He's not flirting. He's not trying to persuade you to do one thing over another. He's genuine and heartfelt. You swear you would start crying if you had a little less sleep. You take a deep breath and lean into him for half a second, just enough to feel his body against yours, before standing upright again.
"Thank you." 
"It's what friends are for," he says, leaning into you in return. "I should make sure they haven't seized the museum or anythin'."
"Oh, I can do it. You're a guest."
"And you work too hard," he stops you. "Take a break and enjoy what you love. The world won't end if you take some time for yourself." If ever there were awards to be given out for sweet talking, you think Joel Miller would win all of them. 
"Okay," you say, and he walks behind you to move on to the next section. "You really wanna be my friend?" You ask before he can fully pass behind you, looking at him over your shoulder. He smiles devastatingly, light sparkling in his eyes, and nods.
"I really wanna be your friend." He says softly, his voice low and rumbling in his chest. He lingers for a second or two before finally making his way to the group of students, leaving you to scrutinize the painting you've been staring at for God knows how long.
The day crawls to an uneventful close, with you forcing all the students to take a picture in front of the museum for the yearbook. Joel takes your phone out of your hand and all but pushes you in the photo, and your students lovingly welcome you into their little group. In exchange, you grab Joel's phone and take cute pictures of him and Ellie for their own memories. They smile almost identically, and Ellie makes a fake annoyed face when Joel kisses her temple. Your fingers brush against each other when you hand it back, and for a second, you can feel the callouses from his job. It feels like unlocking a new piece of him or a new quirk. 
Too bad this isn't a date. Too bad nothing can ever come of this. Too bad you had to meet this way. Too bad. Too bad. 
The ride home is quiet and full of the clinking of backpacks and new souvenirs. When you get to the school, parents are waiting in the parking lot with fast food dinners and excited ears to hear all about their days. Almost everyone immediately slinks home, tired and happy, before you can even get close to the school doors. Almost everyone. Joel and Ellie help you carry your backpack and some things you bought for teaching purposes at the museum into your classroom. The school is virtually deserted, and you return to your room to find all the lamps flipped off and mostly positive notes from the sub. 
"Dad, what are we gonna do for dinner?" Ellie groans as you sit in your chair and open your email quickly before you can pack up the rest of your stuff. Their dinner debate becomes background noise as you find your inbox full of annoyed messages from Dalton's parents, coaches, and even Principal Martinez regarding his grades. Under all that vitriol sits Henry's half-read message about his gallery opening, and you feel the perfect bubble of your day burst around you. Joel and Ellie seem to realize it because they're both quiet when you tune back into their conversation, and you turn in your chair to look at them. 
"Are you okay?" Ellie asks, and you snap out of it, putting on your best teacher everything-is-fine face.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just some emails. It's not important." You wave her off, but Joel isn't so easily convinced. He thinks for a second before pulling his keys out of his pocket and handing them to Ellie. 
"Go get some practice driving." He says, jerking his head toward the door, and Ellie's eyes light up.
"Really?!"
"Just bring the car to the front, and don't hit anything!" He says, but she's already taken off with the keys and her stuff in an excited whirlwind. You laugh at her enthusiasm, and Joel leans against one of the desks near you, crossing his arms in front of him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong." 
"Your whole face fell when you opened that computer." 
"It's nothing." 
"If we're gonna be friends, you're gonna have to tell me if somethin's wrong otherwise I can't help you." He says, and you fight a smile. 
"I don't know how you're gonna help me with this one." You say. He bumps your foot with his and gives you a pleading look. Big brown eyes on men like him should be illegal, you think.
"Talk to me." He begs quietly, and you take a deep breath.
"When I was in college, I dated this guy. He was an artist, too, and we were like the little power couple of our program. Things ended kinda badly and abruptly, and I hadn't heard from him since graduation until last week when he invited me to his gallery opening. I really don't want to go alone because, honestly, I haven't been able to get anything showcased in years, and I'm embarrassed. Plus, he broke my heart and made me feel like shit for a few years." You can't stop the words from falling from you once the dam is broken, but Joel doesn't flinch.
"Well, you've got friends to go with, right?"
"I do," you say. "But I want to invite you."
"Oh." He says, seemingly unintentionally.
"Oh." You repeat. "You can say no. I just thought... since we're friends and all now."
"I just... I don't..." he struggles before finally giving in to what he wants to say, what you think he's wanted to say all day. "I don't think I'm smart enough to go to somethin' like that. I don't know anythin' about art. I don't even know how to dress for those kinda things."
"Nobody knows anything about art. Not really, at least. Especially not Henry."
"You do."
"Then I'll stick with you all night and feed you lines about composition or some shit," you say. "And you just wear a nice shirt and some slacks. Maybe a suit jacket if you're feeling snazzy. It's really not as big a deal as people make it seem. We'll go, drink wine, say something about the colors, play nice, and then we'll leave. I'll have you home by 9:30. Earlier if you really hate it that much." He rolls his neck like he's rattling something around in his head or thinking about your offer, and all you can do is watch him and the way his Adam's apple pressing against the delicate skin of his throat. You're convinced he's gonna say no.
"Are you asking me on a date?" He finally asks, and you laugh.
"Not a date."
"Sounds like a date. You even promised to have me home to my girl at a reasonable time."
"Fine, it's a friend date."
"A friend date?" He raises his eyebrows at you, and you nod. 
"It's perfectly normal to go on friend dates, Miller. You're just behind on the times."
"Seems like I am. Maybe you can bring me up to speed during the gallery opening?" He says, and your shoulders drop in relief. "I'll pick you up if you agree to help me not look like an idiot."
"You won't look like an idiot." 
"Not with you there, I won't." He says, and you want to laugh, but you also want to tear up a little at his kindness. It's been a long week. 
"Thank you, Joel. Really. I owe you." You say, and he nods. 
"'S my pleasure," he says. For a minute, you two just stare at each other in your empty classroom like teenagers with an obvious crush. You think that's what you feel like. You think that's all you'll ever be able to feel for him. "I should go. I've got an impatient teenager waitin' for me." 
"Yeah. Go get her some dinner, and I'll text you the details." You say as you stand to walk him out. He stands to his full height, opens his arms, and approaches you. You didn't think you were hugging territory, but as his arms wrapped around you, you couldn't help but hug him back.  
"Goodnight." He says into your hair, lingering for another moment before disappearing as fast as he appeared. 
"Goodnight," you say. With that, he starts walking to the open door with a smile stuck to his face. "Hey, Joel," you call before he can step over the threshold, and he turns around to look at you. "Art is for everyone, and even if it wasn't, you're more than smart enough to enjoy it."
"Yes, ma'am." He says with a half-salute and a wink before stepping out of your classroom. You let yourself rest against your desk and take a deep breath. Finally, you let yourself pull out your phone and read the rest of Henry's email detailing the time and place of the gallery. 
I hope you can come. It would really mean a lot to me. I miss talking to you and even though things ended the way they did, I still love you.
See you soon,
Henry Hall
"Fuck that."
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