#my cat is helping to write this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dewdropdinosaur · 2 months

Text

White Gold Glitters Too

ALASTOR x READER SMUT

Summary: Lucifer takes too much of a liking to Alastor's wife and he seeks to claim her and prove his dominance. Fucking her for Lucifer to hear sounds like a good option.

Warnings: NSFW/18+. MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Oral Sex, Reader has a Vagina, Heavy Sex, C*m, Implied P in V Sex, Jealous Fucking, Mention of Restraints, Tentacles

I have never written smut before...so I am sorry.

REQUESTS OPEN

Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon from Hazbin Hotel, was known for his charismatic yet enigmatic presence. He ruled over his domain with a devilish grin and a penchant for blood. But beneath his charming facade lay a heart that beat fiercely for one person: his beloved wife, Y/N.

Y/N was the epitome of grace and beauty, with a kindness that melted even the most hardened of souls. She had captured Alastor's heart as soon as they had entered through the doors of the hotel, and he would do anything to keep her by his side. Having been newly wed, Alastor’s possessive nature seemed to rear its head often when it came to his bride.

However, trouble brewed when Lucifer, the fallen angel and hellish king himself, began to take an seeming interest in Y/N. His smooth words and suave demeanor drew her attention, much to Alastor's dismay. Alastor’s confidence was shaken when Lucifer Morningstar began to show a keen interest in Y/N. Despite her loyalty to Alastor, Lucifer's suave demeanor and irresistible charisma stirred a jealousy deep within Alastor's demonic heart.

It has begun innocently enough, with Lucifer's smooth compliments and flirtatious gestures towards Y/N whenever they crossed paths. Then it turned to a hand atop hers or brushing hair out of her face while she worked on fixing up the hotel. At first, Alastor attempted to suppress his jealousy, masking his feelings with his trademark grin and witty remarks. But as Lucifer's advances towards Y/N became more pronounced, Alastor's facade began to crack.

One fateful evening, as the flames of Hell danced in the distance, Alastor found himself unable to contain his simmering jealousy any longer. He watched from a distance as Lucifer flirted shamelessly with Y/N, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

His once cheerful demeanor turned dark as he became increasingly passive-aggressive, making evil eyes at the short king(yes my dears, narrators can make a joke occasionally.) But still, Lucifer persisted in his advances, seemingly unfazed by Alastor's silent warnings. Y/N, momentarily stepping away at Charlie’s call for some assistance, left the two men alone in the lobby.

“Well, well, if it isn't the charming Lucifer. Quite the show you're putting on tonight”

Lucifer smirked, “Ah, Alastor, always a pleasure to see you. And might I say, your wife looks positively radiant this evening. You picked a good one.”

Alastor forced a smile, a natural habit of his that was wearing on him. “Why, thank you, Lucifer. She does tend to have that effect, doesn't she? Though I must say, your interest in her appearance is unexpected.”

“Oh, Alastor, there's no harm in appreciating beauty when it's right in front of you. And your wife is truly a sight to behold.” Lucifer leaned closer, using his elbow to nudge Alastor in the ribs playfully; unaware of the brewing violence in the red demon before him. Or maybe he did know and elected to ignore it. Lucifer did get terribly bored.

Alastor spoke firmly through clenched teeth “Indeed, she is. But I must warn you, Lucifer, my patience wears thin when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Just engaging in some harmless conversation. Does that bother you?

“Of course, how silly of me to assume otherwise.” Both men quipped back and forth so sarcastically it could've been considered the eight deadly sin.

Returning from aiding the princess, Y/N resumed her place by Alastor’s side and back into the conversation. Unable to contain his jealousy any longer, Alastor put a hand on his wife’s shoulder and looked towards Y/N with a forced smile plastered on his face. "Darling, would you care for a stroll?" he offered, his voice dripping with false sweetness.

Y/N, oblivious to the turmoil raging within her husband, nodded with a smile and waved goodbye to Lucifer. As they walked through the dimly lit corridors of Hell, Alastor's mind seethed with anger and resentment.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Alastor halted abruptly and turned to face Y/N. "Tell me, my dear, what is it about Lucifer that captivates you so?" he demanded, his words laced with bitterness.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change in Alastor's demeanor. "Alastor, what are you talking about? Lucifer is just being friendly," she protested, confusion etched on her face.

"Friendly? Yes, that's one way to put it. Though, his friendliness seems rather... focused, wouldn't you say?"

Y/N glanced at Alastor, sensing the tension in his voice. She attempted to defuse the situation with a reassuring smile.

Y/N: "Alastor, there's no need to worry. You know where my heart lies."

Alastor's smile tightened, his grip on Y/N's hand becoming just a tad too firm.

Alastor: "Of course, my dear. I'm well aware. But it's amusing, isn't it? How Lucifer seems to find you so... intriguing."

Y/N shot Alastor a puzzled look, sensing the underlying resentment in his words.

"Alastor, you're being awfully aggressive. Is something bothering you?"

Alastor's grin widened, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he turned his gaze back to Lucifer.

Alastor: "Bothering me? Not at all, my dear. Just finding it fascinating how Lucifer can't seem to keep his eyes off you. Quite the dilemma, wouldn't you agree?

Alastor refused to be swayed by her words. With a fierce determination, he pulled Y/N flush to his chest and pushed her back against the wall, his grip possessive and demanding. Peering down into her eyes, his own glowed with a dark green hue.

"I'll show you who the better man is, my dear," he growled, his crimson eyes blazing with intensity as he slammed his lips to capture hers. Moaning into the kiss, Y/N slowly brought her hands up to find themselves tangled in Alastor’s red locks.

Trailing his hand up to her waist, Alastor gave it a tight squeeze that made his wife squeak. Chuckling at the reaction, both their lips remained interlocked for what seemed an eternity. Deciding she had enough teasing, Y/N grabbed hold of Alastor’s cane and used its shadows to transport them to their shared bedroom. Taking the hint, Alastor walked their bodies to the king sized bed and laid down on the red silken sheets. Now with back flush against the mattress, Y/N wasted no time in relocking her lips back to her husband's.

Nimble fingers traced up her waist, tugging softly on the waistband of her shorts before suddenly ripping them off of her body. Exposed to the cool air, Y/N let out a gasp of surprise that was quickly replaced with a lewd moan as Alastor traced a knuckle up her clothed core.

“Darling, tsk tsk. We haven’t even begun and you are drenching my fingers through these clothes.” Continuing to drag his finger across her pantie-clad slit, Alastor mumbled the words into the base of her neck.

“Stop–fuck–stop teasing Al.”

“Oh but dear, that’s half the fun.” Despite his words, he obliged her request by removing the offending garment from her body. Working his way down, his face ended between her thighs. His eyes widened at the glittering white gold slick that painted her hole.

“Gorgeous darling, glittering gorgeous.” Diving in, his tongue lapped up all the juices that spilled from her needy cunt. Sucking softly here and there while delving as deep as his tongue would allow(he would not admit to using magic to make it longer), Y/N let out wanton moans and lewd hisses of pleasure. Gripping the sheets beneath her as her eyes remained shut in ecstasy. To make matters worse, or better depending on who you ask, Alastor inserted his finger into her while continuing to feast. He could see her holding back some of her noises, desperate to control her lust.

"Darling, do not hide from me."

"But normally you don't want people to hear--"

"That does not apply today. Let all of Hell and that filthy king know you are mine."

Stretching her open, he added another finger; scissoring her wide. Y/n’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body involuntarily shifted away from the overstimulating assault. Taking his other hand, Alastor placed it on her hip and held her in place.

“Unless you would like to be restrained, I insist you remain in place.” Perking up at the thought, Y/N gulped. Being restrained by Alastor’s slick tentacles, forcing her legs open so he could do as he pleased; letting him use them to fill every hole piqued her interest. Perhaps for another time.

The thoughts and stimulation from Alastor’s mouth and his fingers nearly had her cumming, mumbling incoherently for just a bit more to push her over the edge. Smirking, Alastor brought a third finger into her hole, its walls squeezing onto him for dear life. Using his thumb to rub against her clit, the stimulation was bearing nearly too much.

“Go on Y/N. Tell me….tell me how I can only make you feel this good. That even the King of Hell couldn’t make you cum just from his fingers.”

That’s what did it, Y/N felt the coil in her stomach snap as she cried Alastor’s name. Surely, the whole hotel had heard her by now. Just as Alastor wanted. Cum now coated his fingers and the bedsheets below as her high overtook her senses and she saw stars.

Drawing his fingers slowly out of her and bringing them to his lips, Alastor sucked on the white gold juices. Both parties covered in a layer of thin sweat, panting heavily and overcome with arousal. Walking his hands forward till both of his arms caged her in on the bed and she could feel his growing bulge against her thighs, Alastor whispered darkly.

“Now dear, feel like letting Lucifer know how good round two is about to feel?”

875 notes · View notes

graceofagodswrath · 2 years

Text

Humans Are Feral: Part 2

Wow, I did not expect that last post to be received so well, and so fast. Thanks so much to all those who left awesome comments, reblogs and notes. And since it was received so well, I decided to go ahead and write the part two I’ve been thinking about since part one.

So, humans can vicious and absolutely feral at times. Our society often criticizes such behavior, referring to it as “acting like an animal.” And don’t get me started on how humans love to make themselves seem important by separating ourselves from the rest of the animal kingdom whether from religious belief or simple egotism. But our animal instincts are still a part of us, even though they have been suppressed through hundreds of years of societal evolution. The biggest example of these primal instincts is the fight or flight response. This is one we commonly experience in day to day situations, however small they may seem. From situations like: being in a crowded room and feeling the urge to run because of overwhelming social anxiety. Or being at the in-laws and they make a rude comment, and you just want to snap back or run out of the house. But you suppress those feelings in order to appear “civilized/normal.” Just some tidbits on human psychology I think about a lot.

But that thing that I mostly think about is how we react in extremely stressful and dangerous situations. One’s in which we perceive are life-threatening. I have been put in a situation where I was nearly fighting for my life, and I remember the wildness I felt. There were no verbal thoughts in my head, nothing I remember being normal. All I could feel was this kind of fear-rage in which I was scared as hell, but also angry because I was scared. I remember the adrenaline and the realization that if I was going to die, I was going to fight with everything I had. Which, looking back, seems kind of strange. Many animals often give up if they realize they’re going to die. But humans don’t. Any kind of hope, any kind of need to fight and survive is all we need to keep going. We rarely just give up.

Imagine:

A ship of imperial soldiers of the Fiuldarian Empire had sighted the Star Chaser. All crew had done their best to push the ship to her point, trying to outrun the imperial flagship. But it was no use. Within a few ticks they had been flown down and anchored. But the soldiers never boarded, which scared Captain Din:ai. She stood in the control room before her holoscreens, staring with fear-blown eyes. The imperial ship never sent a communications, nor did it fire any weapons. She had no idea what was going to happen.

Until something did happen.

From the comm, Equaloi’s high-pitched screams shattered the tense silence. The feathered Unaga’o cried out something in their native tongue before a wet gargle cut his voice. His comm cut off, but not before a strange clicking and growl were heard. All in the room stood still, antenna, fur, and scaly plates twitching with anticipation. All eyes stared up at the Captain, awaiting her orders. Or reassurance. Something. But the tall Diralo stood as still as her crew, three-fingered hands balled tightly.

The comm went off again, making several in the room jump. This time heavy breathing sounded. “I just found Equaloi and Fir’nad.” Alex Risach, the only human among Din:ai’s crew. They sounded unnervingly calm, but there was something off about their voice. “They’re not…alive. And they’re all over the place.” Din’ai drew in a sharp breath, her breathing cavities in her chest whistling lowly. Two dead. But not from soldiers.

Din:ai pressed the receiver. “What do you mean by ‘all over the place’?”

“I mean,” Alex said. “That they are in pieces. Torn apart.” Alex’s next sentence made Din:ai’s blood grow cold. “Imperial soldiers did not do this.” Din:ai remained silent, thinking desperately about what to do. Her long kallocks of experience did not prepare her for this situation. Because as much as she wished to deny it, the last few minutes made it clear what was going on. Something was aboard the Star Chaser. And it was extremely dangerous.

“Risach, listen to me. You must make your way to the control room. Any crew you find must follow these same instructions. Whatever is aboard is extremely dangerous, and must not be approached until we know what it is. Do you copy?” There was silence on the other side. Din:ai grew tenser with every quiet second. “Risach, do you copy?”

A click of the comm. And an alien screeching. Angry words could be heard in a human language, one Din:ai did not recognize as a common tongue. Then a feral scream, one that had the scales along Din:ai’s back arching in terror. Every crew member listened in rapt attention, all trying to imagine what was going on behind the sounds.

Then Alex’s voice screaming above the commotion.

“GET SHIT ON MOTHERFUCKER!” A howling squeal followed. A click as the comm turned off. Another click as it turned back on. “On my way to the control room. I recommend all weapons off safety and for everyone to take cover. This thing is mean and ugly as sin.” Their heavy breathing didn’t hide the deep gruffness in their voice. Din:ai pushed away the observation. She could worry about deciphering human language tones later.

She reached under her command center, grabbing the firearm she had hidden earlier. All other crew in the room followed suit. Din:ai pulled up a hole map of the ship, centering in on Alex’s orange-dotted life signal. And the life signal following them. The label above the beeping red dot read ‘unknown’. Both signals were closing in on the command room’s eastern doorway. The giant Diralo captain signaled to all crew present to aim their weapons at the door.

“Anything non-human coming through that door gets shot, understood?” Nods and chirps of agreement. The room became quiet once more, the atmosphere thick with fear-scent. Then sounds could be heard beyond the door. A strange clicking-screeching drowned out everything. Din:ai jerked when banging sounded on the other side of the door. Alex’s voice muffled through the walls.

“OPEN IT!” Din:ai shouted. Yugi, a derumo juvenile who was closest to the door, hit the controls beside it. The door slide upward, exposing the dim hallway and the blood-covered human behind it. Alex sprinted through, turning to aim their weapon at the open doorway.

Then the creature appeared. All recoiled at the sight. Alex spoke true. It was immensely ugly. It resembled a Terran arachnid, long spindly legs supporting a large, hulking body that stood just above Alex’s height. But that is where similarities ended. It was covered in black chitinous armor, spiked and sharp. A pair of spindly arms with elongated claws sat beneath its head. It’s head swayed low, its mouth shaped like a five pointed star shape, teeth covering every flesh surface. Beady black eyes stared from its skull, reflecting the light beaming down. It screeched and charged toward Alex. The crew opened fire.

The gunfire seemed to stop it for a moment before it grew confident again. Because the barrage of bullets and energy weapons barely dented its thick black armor. The clawed arms beneath its head rose to protect its eyes from the oncoming assault.

The gunfire began to lessen as ammo was lost, and the creature noticed. With its head shielded, it approached through the fire storm. That’s when a cloud of fire billowed over it. It screeched and fell back. Alex stalked forward, their weapon drawn against their shoulder, and let loose another bout of streaming flame. The creature retreated, it’s clicks an incessant stream of fearfulness.

“I am so glad I grabbed my flamethrower instead!” Alex shouted. Many of the crew realized their weapons were not effective against the creature, backing under their respective shelters beneath command boards.

Alex’s weapon sputtered and lost its flame. A curse under their breath and they scrambled to reload. But they weren’t fast enough. The creature sprang forward in the moment of weakness and latched its jaws around Alex’s leg. Alex screamed as the beast tore into flesh, red blood spattering on the white floors. It but down and began dragging Alex away, swinging and throwing them around. Alex screamed and cursed in their human tongue, beating at the creature’s head with their weapon.

The weaponless crew could only watch as their human crew mate battled a seemingly hopeless war. Some had run to the western doors, opening them and running away into the depths of the ship.

Din:ai was of the few that stayed, aiming a nearly empty energy gun at the armored beast. She was horrified watching as Alex was tossed about. But what more surprised her was the continued struggle on Alex’s part. They didn’t stop. They continued to beat down upon the creature’s head, screaming and kicking with their free leg at any exposed hide. Even as more blood was lost they fought back.

And Din:ai felt some of her courage, if not shame, return watching the small human fight. She aimed her gun, locking onto the beast’s one exposed weakness: it’s eyes. The black beady things were covered with it’s strange claws, shielding itself from the onslaught of Alex’s flamethrower. The creature was snarling as it dragged Alex, but Alex was snarling back. Din:ai, waiting for an opening, watched as Alex dug the flamethrower beneath the creatures contorted claws, letting go and tearing at it face with their own hands. Their fingers tore wildly, landing on the creatures jaws, trying to part the cage of flesh and teeth latched to their leg. Alex was able to tear away one of the creature’s jaw flaps and pulling with all their strength, ripped it off. Din:ai’s eyes widened. The creature screamed, and Alex screamed back.

The pain the creature was experiencing caused it to lose focus. It’s claws dropped, exposing its eyes. Din:ai took the shot. The wet, electrical sound of an energy discharge into flesh was heard. The creature stopped screaming. Instead it contorted and struggled. Alex was dropped, rolling away and clutching their leg. The creature continued its death throes for a moment more, then its legs curled together and it slumped to the ground, becoming still.

When Din:ai was sure the creature was dead, she crawled down to Alex. The human was clinging to their leg, clutching the horrific wound still leaking blood. Din:ai leaned over them tearing of her clothing covering her torso. She went to move Alex’s hands, but the deep growl the human made caused her to freeze. Din:ai had never heard such sounds come from humans, nor did she know they could do such things. They sounded as ugly as the creature’s. She stared down at Alex.

“Please remove your hands. We need to stifle the bleeding.” Alex stared up at her with large eyes, the white around the brown irises strangely animalistic. Scared and wild. Their chest was heaving, breath loud and raspy. They growled again, baring their teeth in a ugly grimace, then exhaling and letting their hands drop. Din:ai surveyed the wound before wrapping it. The beast had torn the flesh away from the bone, the off-white color unnatural underneath the red flesh. Bits of skin and meat hung from the wound, held together by the thinnest of muscle sinew. It was terrible.

Din:ai wrapped it, ignoring the red blood collecting on her hands. She instead focused on Alex’s wellbeing. “You are extraordinary.” She said. “I always wondered why you humans are held in such high regard. You should not be alive after that beast had you in its jaws.”

Alex snorted. “I’m from Australia.” They grunted, grimacing in pain. “I’ve seen bigger fuckers than that thing. Dealt with worse than that thing.”

Din:ai did not doubt her colleague’s words.

~~~~~~

Wow this was fun. This is the kind of stuff I like to write. Horror-thriller short stories with a little bit of badassery sprinkled in. Thank you again to everyone who bombarded my phone with notifications about how liked my first post was. That was wild. Brought me back to my Wattpad days. If anyone has any suggestions for future story prompts, I may or may not use it. I love writing about how humans can be stupid badasses, it brings in the serotonin. This blog might even become more sci-fi short stories with “humans are space orcs/Australians/insane” prompts. Dunno. lets see what happens.

3K notes · View notes

suffering-and-happy-about-it · 3 months

Text

Dead Of Night (Rules, Part 2.)

Description: Coming back home was a doozie - it felt like starting anew. Meeting your dad's new best friend, however, turned your life upside down - and it was the two of you who had to set the record straight and figure out how to move on.

Part Summary: The night in the company of two Texan gentlemen is going well - Joel and Tommy are ensuring you're having a blast. Joel even goes up and beyond in this regard. It was too good to be true... Until it fucking wasn't.

Warnings: dad's best friend daddy joel (i don't think there's more to say to that) | age gaps all around, baby - joel being approximately 33 (reader being 8 years his junior), putting sarah around 13 years of age and sam at 18, reader's parents in late forties/early fifties | alcohol consumption | smoking (implied and active) | BILLIARD SHENANIGANS WITH THE MILLER BROTHERS™️ | NSFW activities - oral (f!receiving), sex at the bathroom stalls, inappropriate thoughts | i guess potential sub-con (we are drunk but very consensual) | we love a consensual king joel miller

A/N: The 'I like this song' is Orville's Peck Dead Of Night (name inspo, yay) - yanow, when it's late a party, they play slow and sappy songs to calm people before going down and to let all the lovey-dovey couples suck soul outta each other. And I love that.

Tagging: My sweetest, one and only @missdictatorme.

Word count: 10.1K - I cannot express how sorry I am for the length, but I had too much fun with this and didn't wanna pull out a two-parter with nothing exciting in it. I divided it into sections the best I could for easier reading.

Masterlist: H E R E | Playlist: H E R E

Leaving Joel and his compadre outside, you decided to spend some time playing pool - the elderly gentlemen occupying it were kind enough to let you play a few games. It was fun watching Anne getting tipsy, balancing on her tiptoes as she leaned her entire upper body onto the table, her tongue sticking out of her mouth due to concentration. You've won most of the games (mainly because neither of you knew the billiard or pool or whatever you've been playing), but Anne insisted on calling it a draw. Cheeky little pup, that's what she was. Just as you prepared the cues for the guys who'd landed them for you, a familiar Texan drawl could be heard behind you.

"Howdy, gentlemen." - The nameless guy greeted, nodding at the guys waiting for their pool table to be free. The elderly gentlemen nodded at the newcomers. - "Would y'all mind us havin' a few quick games with the ladies? We'll let you be after, promise. " "'s yours, son. Take ya time." "Yessir." - The guy thanked, walking over to Anne and pointing at the cue. - "May I? You're doin' it wrong, sugar." "'M not. But if you think you're more experienced..." "Been playin' pool with that rascal over there since we were tweens. Trust me on this one." - With that, he carefully tore the cue out of Anne's palm, seizing the cue chalk as well.

"Don't mind him, he's a show-off." - When his husky, melodic voice hit your ears, it almost gave you a heart attack - you were so preoccupied with watching Anne giving the guy a stare of death that you forgot Joel might be around too. You definitely didn't expect him to sneak up on you like that. "'s my technique bad, too?" "Worst I've seen." - He muttered, snickering. - "There's no technique to chalk a cue properly, don't worry. He's just makin' stuff up to be interestin'." - Joel explained, making you snicker too. You've handed him the cue nonetheless, making him put his beer down - he'd been skilled with it, you noticed; the two must've been playing since they were tweens, just as the other guy said.

Soon, you became too preoccupied with Joel's hands to care about some stupid pool - based on the callouses and small scars along his fingers and knuckles, he must've been used to working with his hands. Now that he'd folded the shirt's sleeves up to his elbows, you could see all the prominent veins and other scars, some of which were pretty deep. Without you trying to resist, your mind spiraled into imaginations of these palms taking handfuls of your ass, kneading it like bread. How would it feel to hold his hand? Would he let you entwine your fingers with his? How would it feel if he'd slap you - either teasingly or amidst all the heat and lust, say... Fucking you from the back? How would it feel when his palms would spread your thighs apart, his fingers sliding inside you? How would it... That's when you realized Joel was talking to you, watching you ogling at his forearms for a good minute. Your eyes jumped from his forearms to his face, looking at him dumbfoundedly - Joel scoffed upon seeing your expression.

"Huh?" "Was askin' 'bout your name, cutie, but don't take me wrong - wouldn't mind callin' you names." - Leaning closer, Joel gave you a warm smile. - "Have I interrupted somethin' in that head 'f yours, sweet girl?" - Oh God, he knew - he fucking knew. You were busted, flustered upon hearing his implication. Your brain blanked momentarily as you tried to come up with an answer. "Y/N." - You mumbled, mesmerized with the amused look in his eyes. - "Name's Y/N." "A beautiful name for a beautiful girl, I see."

"You two done with starin' into each other's eyes?" - The nameless guy called out, startling you - Joel remained as cool as a cucumber, his eyes following each move you made. Trying to wave it off, you walked to the table, leaning your palms into the side. "Yup. Bet our cue is chalked up way better than yours." - Cocky tone present in your voice made the nameless guy grin. Following up on the statement, you raised eyebrows in Joel's direction for support. The man didn't let you wait for too long. "Don't ya worry. I'll win it thanks to how you chalked it... And for you." - Joel added silently, brushing his palm on your lower back before he walked straight to the table - the first game was reserved for the two buddies to warm up. Even this quick, seemingly meaningless gesture had you shivering.

"You guys get to it. I'll go for a cig and get you some beer while you two clash it out." - Anne offered, grasping your hand in hers. Then she turned her head toward the elderly gentlemen. - "Y'all good? Want us to bring ya somethin'?" "We're good, sweetheart, thanks for askin'." "You asked them, but don't ask me?" - The nameless guy whined, looking at Anne with a well-portrayed offense. Joel snorted, carefully putting the pool balls into the triangle. "Cut it off, Miss Dramatic. Imma get you both a glass of Jack, 'f course. Do I look like a monster?"

"Thanks, Anne." - Both guys muttered in unison. Joel poked the balls first, having them scattered all over the table. Then he grabbed the chalk, furrowing while thinking about his next step. "You better win, Tommy, or I'm pouring your glass down my throat." - Oh, his name was Tommy. Joel's buddy Tommy. Noted. "And who's bein' dramatic, huh? Go now, you two." - Tommy waved in your direction, laughing while he tried to figure out the approach to his next poke.

After letting Anne have her smoke break, it was time to make your way to the bar. It wasn't easy - people were taking a break from dancing and started ordering their drinks. All the people smoking outside were coming back in, ordering new rounds of cocktails, shots, beers, and what have you. It took a moment, but you got four beers, two Jacks, and two shots of Chupito, carrying the alcohol back to the pool table. Anne started running her mouth again as you approached the pool tables. "You believe me now, or..?" "Believe you what?" "Believe me what I said about Joel? He's fuckin' smitten." "Joel being smitten? Are you deaf or just purposely ignore how Tommy talks to you? Who's smitten here?"

"Ah, I see. Too bad he ain't my type." - Anne sighed, looking at the duo debating over one of the balls' and its position. You had no idea what was wrong with it, but both looked hot debating. - "Suppose Tommy looks like a fun guy overall - nothin' for me, though... Ehhh... Maybe as a friend? That could work out. Anyway, stop deflectin', girl. You and Joel, that's the topic. I can sense the vibes are present, the chemistry is flowin', he can't take his eyes off you, calls you sweet pet names, watches you when you don't pay attention and grins to himself. To add to the evidence, he touched your back even though he had zero reason two, and don't think we missed how he snuck his palm up your waist and prolonged the greetin' for as long as he could... C'mon, I've seen you starin' at him. And he saw it too - and that old bastard was complimented by it." - Well, it was time to stop pretending, you assumed. You couldn't counter everything she just dropped on your ass - Anne and Tommy saw it all anyway.

"Fine, fine. Thing is... I've never felt like this about anyone. I feel like we've clicked right away, not a word needed to be said. Girl, that man's smoking hot - have you seen him? Heard him?" - You whined, watching Joel chalking the cue up again while watching Tommy prepare for his poke. - "It's just... Scary. Bizzare, yannow? This doesn't happen with strangers all the time. Why me? That's the main question. What does he see in me? Is he just pulling my sock? Would it be a hook-up, or would he want to see me again? What if he does this on the reg, just pulls random women in the club, fucks them and goes home?" "You think he wouldn't wanna see you again? That's what's bothering you?" - Anne stopped in her tracks, looking at you with disbelief. - "Even if! Live your life - drag him to the bathroom stalls, fuck the soul outta him, and make him remember this night forever, girl. But, to be fair... Takin' the way he stares at us right now into account, just to make sure we hadn't run away, tells me this guy will definitely wanna see you again. On top of that, the birds chirped that they hadn't seen Joel smitten like this in a long time either." "... Tommy told you that?" "Shush now. Just be hot and live your best life. Joel's fuckin' mesmerized and so are you." - She muttered as you approached the table. Cheerfully, she waved the glasses in her hand, earning applause from the duo. - "How's it goin', you two? Figured out who's the bigger alfa?"

"Kicked his sorry ass, as always." - Joel muttered, letting Tommy set the table for you, putting balls into the triangle, ensuring everything was set right. "You clearly cheated." - Tommy whined, accepting his beer and glass Jack from Anne, the other one landing right into Joel's palm. "Or maybe, you're just ass at pool?" - Anne chimed in, smiling sweetly right into Tommy's face - this earned an earnest chuckle from the gentlemen watching your matches unravel. Just like before, Tommy snickered in disbelief, turning right to Anne animatedly. Before you knew, the two were arguing again.

"She's not being too nice to Tommy. Sorry for that." "Don't worry 'bout him, pretty girl. He likes 'em spicy. 's good for him to let someone deflate his ego now and then." "Mhm, noted." - You and Joel were leaning into an empty table next to the pool, sipping on your beers, standing with aptly distance between you two. As you watched the two bickering (something regarding the balls' placement and Tommy's balls if you hadn't misheard), the question slipped past your lips on its own. Alcohol made you courageous, it always did. - "And what do you like, Texas?" "What?" - Joel asked, ensuring that you've truly dropped the question, that he wasn't imagining it or mishearing. By that point, he was scooping over to you, his shoulder nudging into yours, his other palm finding the small of your back again, nesting there, his fingers playing with the fabric of your shirt. "I asked, what is it that you like?" - His face was close enough for you to feel his breath on the apple of your cheek as you cocked your head to him, innocently taking a sip of beer. He was at a loss for words for a bit, licking his lips as he tried to come up with an answer.

Just as Joel leaned closer to your ear and rubbed his nose in your hair, the grip on your t-shirt growing stonger, Anne turned to you, swinging her palms around in disbelief.

"That can't be right! No! Tommy, I know you're fuckin' with me. Joel, please tell him he's... Oh... Oh, fuck, sorry." - The girl giggled, growing flustered as she realized she'd just ruined your moment. Trying to salvage the situation, Joel cleared his throat, put his beer down, and grabbed the cue. Cool as a cucumber, just like before - except the blush spreading on his cheeks. The blush made you snicker, it was cute. "Ready for another round?" "Betcha ass. Imma blow smoke all up your arse, Y/N!" "I don't think that's what you meant to say, Anne." "Whatever, I sounded Bri'sh 'enough, didn't I?" - She reiterated, snatching the cue right from Tommy's palm, pointing her finger at him. - "If you try to talk into how I'm playin' pool one time..." - Aaand... They were bickering again.

"I know shit about pool and billiard." - You confessed in a whisper, having Joel hum while chalking your cue. - "Won by pure luck each time." "For starters, we're playin' billiard, sweetheart. Want some assistance? I definitely know more than that moron." "... I deadass thought it's a pool table, on my honor. Help? Would be brilliant, thank you." - As you leaned to take the cue, Joel pushed it out of your reach, knitting his eyebrows together. He seemed confused. "Are you really British?" "I won't tell, cowboy. Better if I keep you guessing for a bit. Makes me look more mysterious." - This time, you victoriously grabbed the cue, walking towards the table to offer Anne a handshake of truce and a good sport. You've done it before each game - the elderly gentlemen liked your sportsmanship.

Anne was doing the shot-up - leaning her entire upper body into the table, pushing her tongue out as she assessed the balls with a furrow, tapping her foot to Toto's Hold the Line. The shot-up was good, she even managed to score one, taking the striped balls for herself. Clear balls it was, then. "Damn." - Tommy sighed, nodding to himself. - "Well played." "Don't underestimate my billiard abilities ever again. I'm already playing leagues better than you." "She ain't wrong." - Joel chimed in, leading you closer to the table. Just like he planned, this gave the duo another reason to bicker, ignoring whatever it was you two were doing.

"My goal is to put all the clears into pockets, no?" "Fast learner, I see." "As if..." - Leaning onto the table, you did your best to replicate the finger stance your father taught you. - "Pops used to be a billiard enthusiast when I was little - that was before he fucked up his back. Did his damnest to teach me all about it." "Yeah, can tell it's been a while back time since you last played. Only blind people wouldn't see how bad that finger position is. Keep your hand like that, and it's gonna cramp in no time. C'mere." - As if he'd done it a million before, Joel walked up next to you, leaning over your back - his chest was pressed to your torso, his arms copied yours, and his chin settled on your shoulder. Your heart fluttered so hard you were worried about it jumping out of your chest. You didn't hear a word from whatever Joel tried teaching you, but God bless him for attempting anyway. Completely tuned out, you just nodded along, enjoying how his felt body pressed this close to yours (hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder), fingers of his left palm ghosting over yours, the other caressing the small of your back. God, Joel smelled so good - wood, soil, hints of cologne mixed with his musk? Absolute fucking heaven.

"Can you do that for me?" - The guy asked, turning his head to you, boring his eyes into yours. He was so close, his nose just mere inches away from yours - if you'd lean just in slightly, you could kiss him. "Do what?" - You whispered in an answer, having him snicker - the vibration ran through your body like lightning, igniting the bundle of nerves between your legs. This was when you realized you were fucked, at Joel's mercy. Shuddering and trying to keep a serious face on, Joel brought your attention to the posture of your hand, sweeping his thumb over your upper hand. "Keep your hand like this, pretty girl. It'll work better than whatever you were tryin' to create before." - Leaning away from you to let you play, he squeezed your hip to wish you the best of luck.

The moment he did so, a quiet whimper left your mouth, the cue bumping into the white ball at full speed - letting you score your first pocket. You were absentmindedly staring in front of yourself, your heart jumping right to your throat. Joel heard the whimper. It was written all over his fucking grin. He was also smart enough to put two and two together. If you reacted like that, how would you react once he's balls deep inside you? How would your sweet voice sound whimpering, whining, begging, frantically whispering his name? Joel hoped you'd let him find out.

The rest of the games were uneventful - whenever you and Anne played, the two men were sure to talk your head off, teasing you and pointing out what you did wrong. Tommy and Anne stuck to their bickering, their mutual insults getting more playful and out-of-pocket with each shot they downed. Joel stuck with the physical approach, trying to make you understand what to do and when to do it... Which meant you learned absolute fucking shit, being too busy drooling over him. His palms grew more daring the more comfortable you seemed around him - he stopped drinking in the middle of the third billiard match, saying 'He's had 'nough for the night' - Tommy immediately rebutting 'You sure that's the reason?'. Once, you'd swear his palm patted your ass before you poked, making you hit the black ball into the pocket, letting you win the game. 'Thank me later, cutie', Joel murmured into your ear with a wicked grin.

Whenever the guys were on, seven people commented on their match simultaneously - you, Anne, and the five pops watching you play. Whoever they were, you like these old geezers - they were fun to be around. To avenge you, each of the elderly ensured Tommy and Joel wouldn't come out of the match unscathed. Drunk and satisfied, you left the pool table around eleven, shaking hands with the elderly folk who kept you company most of the night. Everyone except Joel was pissed by the time you rolled around the bar, ordering a shot of vodka each. Hell, you've been mixing so much you were sure you'd end up sleeping through the next day. However, it was easy to get pissed in such good company - Tommy kept on coming up with various jokes (hit-or-miss situation there, really), having Anna cackle at each of them (she was blackout drunk, you were pretty sure).

Joel, while not saying much, hadn't moved away from you since you left the pool table - whatever you did, whoever you talked to, the man was behind you. His eyes observed every gesture and expression with a warm gaze, smiling warmly... But not creepily. It was flattering, having the biggest stunner inside the club watching over you. Made you feel special. Regarding what Tommy said earlier (that Joel hadn't been this smitten with anyone in a long time), he wasn't lying - didn't happen since Joel's late wife Angela, actually. Frankly, he was just as in the dark as you were. It wasn't easy to name what had gotten into him, but all he knew was that you're the fire, and he's the moth. Each time you moved, the magnet within you made him follow. Each word was a syren's call, each look a glance into a paradise. Chemistry was the main reason why you two got along this well, that much Joel realized - however, the longer you'd been around, the more captivated he was becoming. Everything about you made him lose his mind; your mixed accents, tapping of your boot into the rhythm, shaky breaths escaping your mouth whenever his fingers ghosted over any part of your body. Each detail, even the easily missable, got him fascinated. You had him mesmerized, took his breath away, had his head in a chokehold. Just as you were at his mercy, he was at yours.

Anne and Joel stuck to the bar when you finally took the dancefloor by storm - whatever you and Tommy were up to, it didn't bore any similarity to actual dancing. It was nice, seeing you laugh so hard, tiptoeing on Tommy's shoes while he clumsily turned around, holding your frame impossibly close to his body. He wasn't trying to pull you or seduce you - it was just hard to dance for two people. "Yannow..." - Anne mumbled from her drink, still watching as you danced. It was almost midnight - the club was closing soon, so most of the fast, heavy-hitting pop got switched for slower country songs. Songs for heavily intoxicated couples. - "I don't think I've seen her actin' like this 'round anyone. And I've known her for 20 years by this point." "Tommy can be a real charmer when he wants to, you're right." - Joel admitted silently, sipping on his lemonade - the same lemonade you made fun of just five minutes earlier. Instead of a response, Anne snickered and shook her head lightly. "Ain't talkin' 'bout Tommy, and we both know that... Drop the fuckin' act." - The girl muttered, losing her balance for a bit - Joel was there to catch her, carefully helping her back onto the stool. He didn't answer, just hummed for Anne to continue.

"Promise you'll be nice to her. Whether it's for tonight or longer, just... Be nice to her. And if you won't be..." "Lemme guess, kiddo - you'll find me and cut my dick off, won't ya?" - Joel grinned, watching Anne teasingly. She smiled, shaking her head again; she liked Joel's sense of humor and demeanor - he seemed like a solid, trustworthy guy. Albeit selfish, but reliable enough to keep his word. "Somethin' like that but ten times worse. You don't wanna cross Anne Marie Jones." "Yes, ma'am." - Joel nodded, tipping his imaginary hat off while bowing a bit. - "I'll go for a dance. Wanna join?" - She nodded in agreement, reaching for Joel's hand in hopes not to slip and fall flat on her face.

"Almost five hours. 's a good score." "Of what? Five hours of..." "You pretendin' that you don't wanna dance." "Were you countin' this whole time? Strong-minded's what you are, my compliments." "Stop and go get her, tiger. Thomas!" - She shrieked, waving at Joel's younger brother, her face filled with excitement. The said younger brother carefully helped you step off his shoes, thanking you for the dances, even bowing just to amuse you. You needed a break - your tummy hurt from laughter, and you were sweaty and thirsty.

"'s my time to be on the bench, huh?" - You asked as Joel stepped closer to you, putting his hand on your waist. When his other hand joined, your eyes frantically searched for an explanation - the only thing you saw, however, was the warmth of his gaze. - "Thought you don't do dancin'." "Haven't done it in a fairly long time. 's time to switch things up." "You changin' the rules for once?" "Hmhm." - Joel could feel your fingers creeping on his arms - his exposed forearms, up to his shoulders before finally entwining behind his neck. Your nails gently scratched his skin, lightly enough not to leave marks, but intensely enough to leave a trail of tingling sensation behind - each inch of his skin you touched started burning, and his dick started growing hard and pleasantly warm in his pants. - "It's worth breakin' the rules when someone's worth it." "Am I worth it?" "Without a doubt in my mind."

No matter how drunk you were, your mind screamed that something was wrong there, that you should leave Joel at the dancefloor, call for a cab, and never look back - this man was a stunner in his best years, not old enough to have back pains and crackly knees but not young enough to be hot-blooded and wanting to fuck for the fun of it. You've seen the hot-blooded type in London a million times, and Joel was different. His demeanor, compared to theirs, was calm and collected. This man wasn't forcing you into anything that hadn't crossed your mind already - his kind smile and gentle touches made you relaxed, letting you realize how desperate you wanted this. How desperately you wanted him. The question still hadn't been answered - why you? Why not any of the beautiful women in the club? Women his age? There were a lot of them, one prettier than the other. Why was it you who had been blessed with the attention of this Adonis with gentle yet assuring touch, with tender, lazy (and also hot as fuck) smile, and watchful gaze?

"I'm a horrible dancer." - You weren't willing to disrupt the intimacy by asking questions - the answers haunted you more than the question itself. Licking your lips, you stepped closer, securing your arms around his neck. "Doesn't seem to me." "Have you seen how I danced with Tommy? Kicked his shin like twenty times." "'s what he deserves, wouldn't worry about it too much." "Doesn't solve the problem at hand." "I have a solution." - Joel mumbled, halting his moves. You were looking at him with an amused furrow, trying to figure out what he was up to - it didn't work, but at least you could carelessly stare at him, memorize each muscle of his face in case you'd never see him again. "Go to town, cowboy. Tell me."

It wasn't a matter of describing. Instead, Joel pushed a few strands of hair off your forehead and face, his eyes taking each detail in. Even though he had thick fingers, callused hands, and big hands, his touches were feather-light - if he hadn't been holding his other arm around your waist, you'd suspect he wasn't even real. All the couples around were still moving at a lazy, slow pace, cuddling as the slow song progressed, but your world froze for a bit. To let Joel know you trust him and want this, your palms started repeating the movements of his fingers - slowly dragging along his jaw, down his neck, to his chin, cupping the apple of his cheek, thumb dragging along the sweet spot under his eyes, putting his damp curls away from his forehead. "Still wanna lemme show you?" "Stop talking and thinking about it too hard, Joel." - Joel felt your weight shifting as you tiptoed, your breasts clashing with his chest as you pressed your body onto his - one of your elbows leaned into his shoulder, your fingers entangling in the hair at the back of his head.

You've been the one to kiss him - one palm grabbing his shirt, pulling him closer; the other still entangled in his hair pulling him away, giving the kiss the right edge. A mix of desperation, desire, and unsaid worries. While your lips mashed, his hands got to exploring - your shoulders, shoulder blades, your back, the small of it, and then, finally, that sweet, sweet fuckin' ass in the tightest piece of clothing he'd seen. He'd swear you're vibrating under his touch, lust getting the better of you - the kiss got rougher, teeth clashing, tongues entwining, lip biting, whining, and quiet moans escaping without either of you wanting them to...

It wasn't clean, but it definitely was the hottest fucking shit and the best kiss Joel had in the last few years. "How does... What does it have to with dancin'?" - You whispered into his ear after you pulled away, nesting your chin on his shoulder, clinging onto him as if he'd disappear if you'd let him go. Slowly, you started moving in the rhythm again, a pleasant male voice singing some kind of country ballad. It was lovely. "Nothin', little lady. Just a poor excuse to do what I've been waitin' for the whole night, 's all." "You damn rascal." "That a bad thing?" "I'm fond of men who make me laugh." - Your playful tone made Joel chuckle, the vibrations carrying onto your body. He gently pulled you closer, kissing your neck while humming at your smell - he'd remembered the scent of your perfume and shampoo, and it was nice, but mixed with alcohol, Tommy and Anne's cigarette smoke, and your musk was even better. You've smelled like a good night, like a lot of laughter, sinfully beautiful.

"Think it hadn't helped yet... The method 'f yours." "Strange, helps me every damn time." - Joel played along, letting you drop back to your heels just so he could look you in the eyes. Even though the club was humid, hot as all hell and the air smelled of alcohol, cigarette and weed smoke, sweat, and too many perfumes mixed into one, Joel missed the warmth and softness of your body the moment when your heels touched the ground, putting a few inches between your bodies. "Didn't sell me on it, anyway." "My apologies, ma'am. Anythin' I can do to remedy the situation?" "Think you should try it again." - You've had him mesmerized when you ogled at him like that - your expression and gaze were innocent, but your actions hinted at everything you've had on your mind. Your gentle hands slipping into the back pockets of his jeans solidified what you've alluded to and erased every doubt he had had in his mind.

"What if it won't work?" - Joel hummed, already pulling you back into his arms - his head was cocked to his shoulder, a wicked grin gracing his face. The man knew what question he was asking, his confidence boosting yours. "Think I have a thing or two on my mind, Texas." "Oh?" - He whispered, stealing a peck from you. - "Wanna share?" "'s better to show it to you." "Go on, little lady." "... Somewhere private." - You specified, losing focus for a bit. Something had caught your attention, making you smile as you started moving in the rhythm. - "I like this song. Give your method one more try, and then we can test mine?" "Your wish is my command."

Over the last few years, Joel forgot how fun it is to dance with someone - how exciting it feels when you twirl your girl around, to see her crack a smile as she comes back to his arms, kissing her like there was no tomorrow. He hadn't danced with anyone since Angela passed - thirteen fucking years. You, however, were a great choice of partner to break the streak of sitting at the bar, watching other couples snuggle and giggle, unaware of anything beyond their small little bubble. Neither of you were good dancers, per se, but that made it much more enjoyable. Joel was in his small bubble now, devoting his focus to you. Only you. Feeling you sway in the rhythm, clumsily stepping on the tips of his boots while holding to his shirt for your dear life, was the most endearing thing that happened to him recently. Even if you wouldn't meet again, he'd be grateful for this one night you've given him.

By the time the last chords of the song played (honkey-tonk banjo strumming), you'd been just like every other couple on the dancefloor - hastily stealing kisses, pressing your bodies impossibly close, tugging each other's hair, moaning and whining under your breath. You wouldn't expect this gruff cowboy man Joel to be vocal at all, but his groans actually made everything ten times better. "... Tell me it didn't work." - He muttered, roughly kneading your buttcheeks with his fingers, pressing your pelvis on his - you could feel the outline of his dick perfectly, your mouth watering. "Not in the slightest. I'm still a horrible dancer." "Thank fuckin' God." - His palm grasped yours as he turned on his heels, leading you deeper into the establishment. Joel was broad enough to make the way for both of you. He was making sure you were still following as if he couldn't feel your nails digging into his palm - he made sure a million times. His eyes periodically trailed between you and the space in front of him.

Once you entered the bathroom stall, everything got blurry - Joel's palms trailing your curves, his lips drowning in the skin of your neck, your palms holding onto his shoulders as he lowered on his knees. You wished you could take a picture of the view - Joel on his knees, one of his palms carefully lifting the hem of your t-shirt while he looked you in the eyes, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your abdomen while his other hand smoothed a trail on your upper thigh. Just as you expected, his palms were rough, full of calluses, and left a tingling sensation on your skin. Pressing his face to your abdomen and slowly getting back up, he pressed a kiss between your breasts before kissing the sweet spot on your neck again. Your breathing was irregular by the time his fingers curled around your chin.

"Are you sure you want this, little lady?" - He was purring into your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and playfully nibbling on it - the reason you were still standing was clearly that he pinned you between the door and his body... Palming your hot, wet sex teasingly, applying just the right amount of pleasure at the place you needed him the most. - "I don't plan on makin' you do somethin' you'd regret later. We clear?" "Joel... Please, for the love of God, shut the fuck up." - That's all you could muster - your body begged to feel his lips, for your hands to explore everything that's been hiding under that neatly tucked shirt and perfectly fitted jeans - you could see the outline of his dick, hard as a rock, but you wanted more. You wished to look at it, have it in your mouth, swallow it whole, or gag on it, whatever he'd like. The arousal building at your center made you forget words. When you tried to kiss him, he tsk-tsked you away, applying more pressure on your clit.

"Just say the words and it's all yours, pretty girl." "Remember how I said you're a rascal?" - You whispered, grinding against his palm gently. - "You're just a... Mhm... Shit... Fucking dick." "Such an eager little thing, aren't ya?" - Joel grinned, kissing the apple of your cheek, leaving his hand in place. You seemed to be horny enough not to need his help with your endeavors - all you needed was his fucking palm.

But Joel wanted more - he needed to hear you also want it. He needed permission before destroying you, fucking your silly little head empty. He could, however, also sense the reason for your hesitancy. What was he? Just a random guy at a club pulling a chick just to fuck her at the stalls and never see her again. Understandable. Because of that, he'd been willing to give you a bit of assurance. - "C'mon, be a good girl. Use your words." "Will you spank me if I misbehave?" "If a good ol' spankin''s whatcha after... We can talk 'bout it on a date." "A date?" - Your eyes lit up, your motions stopping for a bit - to keep you occupied, Joel started applying pressure with his fingers, having you staring at him with your mouth agape. You looked... So damn hot. - "Are you serious, Texas? You want to take me out?" "Mhm, of course, little lady. You'll gimme your phone number, and I'll give you mine. You'll set the date, and I pick out the restaurant. My treat, 'f course. There, you can tell me all you want 'bout spanking that cute ass 'f yours. Sounds good?"

He was... Serious. There was a cocky smile on his lips as he watched you, but he was asking you out. No buts or ifs. No games. It took you a moment to process his proposition - his fingers lazily circling around your clit were making it fucking hard to think. "I'd... I'd love that, cowboy." "Good girl." - Joel cooed, carefully pulling strands of hair out of your eyes with his other palm, leaning his arm to the door behind you. - "What do you want me to do now?" "Everything." - You whispered, stealing a peck from his lips. - "I wanna take everything you're willing to offer. I want this, I want you, wanna feel your lips on me, your dick inside me, fuckin' Christ, I want everything."

That was all Joel needed to hear, the words to set him in motion. His hands gently cupped your head as he kissed you with passion, his mouth devouring each inch he'd kiss, his teeth gently sinking into your skin - just enough to let you feel it, but not enough to hurt you. Not caring about the tent in his jeans, he'd started lowering on his knees again, pulling your t-shirt off your body just so he could hungrily stare at your tits rising and falling with each labored breath. He couldn't but palm them, squeezing them gently. Not wasting more time, he got back to work - worshipping each inch of your skin with his palms, leaving a trail of wet kisses from your chest to your abdomen, stopping above your shorts. He didn't look at what his fingers were doing - Joel simply continued undoing the zipper and button, staring you in the eyes. His right thumb slipped on your clothed clit, having your body react immediately - shuddering, moaning upon the sensation. This wouldn't fly - you could be kicked out if you wouldn't be careful. He wished to listen to those sweet sounds, but...

"Can you somethin' for me?" "Mhm?" - You let out in response, your eyes already darkened with lust. Just a few more beats and Joel would send you heaven, he swore to himself - he started taking his flannel shirt off frantically, handing it over to you. "Bite on it, honey. We don't wanna everyone hearin' how good I make you feel, do we?" "No." - Doing as he asked you, you buried your entire face in his shirt - it smelled just like him, the discovery making you whimper. Lost in the moment, you barely noticed your panties and shorts being removed - before you grasped it, Joel was already filling the newly discovered territory with his face, spreading your thighs far apart.

Under different circumstances, Joel would be delighted to play with you - tease you, let you tiptoe on the edge of paradise before allowing you to drown in all the pleasure, pushing you towards the cliff's edge - you two, sadly, didn't have enough time. You weren't splayed over his bed, your arousal wasn't staining the sheets, and he couldn't let you scream at the top of your lungs before you'd squeeze his head with your thighs. Secondly, he was too fucking horny to hold back. Working you up with his mouth, he untangled your ankle out of your panties, throwing your leg over his shoulder - allowing himself to push as deep as possible in such conditions. His tongue collected each drop of arousal, warm pain setting in his jaw as he did his best to lick your slit clean, just like a plate of his favorite dish.

After he made sure you won't fall down, Joel put his lips to good use (sucking on your clit), and his palm started discovering the valley further below, spreading your folds teasingly. You noticed his finger slowly entering you, digit after digit - his fingers were wider and rougher than yours, filling you up better than yours ever could. Trying to muffle a loud moan, your face disappeared in the fabric of his shirt, your chest heaving as you gasped for air. Joel loved having your fingers tangled in his hair - lost to the moment, you couldn't care less about how violently you're tugging on it, each tug getting a guttural growl out of him. The sounds echoed through you, reaching into all parts of your body, pushing you over the edge.

You couldn't name what precisely caused your orgasm to approach so fucking fast - you were under the impression that usually, it took way longer for you to come. Could be anything - his smell all up your nose, his tongue flickering on your sensitive cluster of nerves at an impressive speed, his palm holding onto your thighs, or two (maybe three) fingers curling inside you. Probably everything combined. The next thing you realized was that you mumbled his name like a prayer, riding through your high on his face, trying to catch your breath as you leaned your head into the door, eyes closed, Joel religiously watching and memorizing how you liked like when you came undone. You were beautiful.

"You good?" - Joel asked after your thighs relaxed and let go of his head. His voice was raspy. It took him a bit to pick himself up (his knees went numb), but soon, he was there to steal a kiss from you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Your flushed, relaxed expression was adorable - he hadn't had a woman looking at him this way in a long time. Your eyes were open lazily (offering him a tender look), your smile hinting at all the bliss circulating in your blood. "Never better, sugar." "Don't think anyone called me that before." "You like it?" - You asked, playing with the hem of his gray t-shirt, caressing his abdomen, his flannel shirt still hanging off your palm. "Gets me all railed up." - With a grin, Joel approached you, picking your leg up to circle it around his waist. The jeans felt cold against your burning and sensitive core, the rough material putting a strange edge into Joel's pelvis grinding against yours at a lazy, teasing pace. - "You want this too, baby? Think you can take it?" "I want everything."

"Okay." - He hummed, trailing his fingers along your shoulders, brushing lips over your jaw and lips. Before you knew it, his palm crept back between your thighs, his fingers sliding inside you, working you up to relax you and get the arousal going. - "How do you want it? Should I sit down? If you wanna, I can get deeper if you bend forward. C'mon, be a good girl and use your words." "Just... I want... Fuck." - Not being able to put a single sentence together, you shushed his palm and godly fingers away. Bracing yourself, you leaned into the door comfortably, shaking your ass a bit to tease him. Joel didn't hesitate to play along, slapping it to see the tender, soft skin jiggling. It didn't escape him how you almost purred, whimpering from the friction. He was half-sure you joked about the spanking bit, but seeing you get off on it put a childish grin on his face.

Before he undid his belt (your head was turned to him the entire time, hungrily watching each move), he'd pulled his wallet from one of the pockets, pulling a condom out. Biting on the aluminum packaging gently, Joel threw his wallet away carelessly, feverishly undoing his jeans before pushing the pants and underwear down to his knees. His dick sprang free, having you hypnotized while Joel put the condom on - you'd swear you hadn't seen a nicer-looking dick in your lifetime, not even in porn movies you watched. It was decently long, pre-cum leaking from the tip, with few veins giving it a nice texture. What put a slight frown on your face was the width of it. It was girthy, for the lack of a better term, massive, to say the least. The challenge excited you, giving you more reasons to take him balls deep. Moan escaped your mouth upon that thought.

"Oh, I know, baby girl." - Joel whispered, stepping closer to you, kneading your cheeks like dough - digging his fingers in one moment, lovingly squeezing them in the other. - "I'll take care of everythin', I promise. Just relax for me." "Okay, sugar." - Complying, you tried your best to relax when he ran his palms down your back, massaging soothing circles into your skin. Hearing the nickname, Joel snickered under his breath. "You gonna me drive up the fuckin' wall if you keep that nickname up."

You started to turn your head in Joel's direction to reply, but before you could do so, the tip of his dick slipped inside you - the burning sensation had you banging your first against the door, opening your mouth, eyes closed firmly, chest heaving as you adjusted to him. It wasn't unpleasant - it was just unusual - you hadn't had sex ever since that 'British stud of yours' as Anne dubbed Felix. And any toys couldn't do Joel's dick any justice. "All good, little lady?" "Mhm, never better." - Nodding, you took a long breath before lowering yourself down on his shaft, feeling it stretching you out inch by inch. There weren't many things that would make Joel Miller speechless, but watching you sliding down while his hands held your hips, hearing you muffle your whines and moans was pure fucking magic. The closer your ass got to his base, the harder it was to breathe for him.

"Look at you, sweetheart." - Joel cooed, closing the remaining gap between your bodies - the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, making you gulp. The man didn't move for a solid minute, letting you relax and adjust, rubbing soothing circles into your hips. - "This would make a man lose his damn mind, Jesus fuckin' Christ. You're doin' so fuckin' well for me." "That dick would make any woman lose their mind too, Texas." - Saying that, you giggled, unintentionally tightening around him - Joel's hips buckled in response, making you whine happily. - "You can move, yannow that? I ain't made of glass." "Promise to tell me it'd get uncomfortable for you, yeah?" - The man asked, kissing your shoulder. Nodding, you lazily smiled at him. "Promise."

In a few thrusts, you could perfectly understand why Joel promised he'd stop if things got uncomfortable for you - he struggled to find his tempo, sloppily thrusting in and out of you in unforgiving, needy movements. But as soon as he found his footing? His movements became determined and precise, each trust stretching your tight walls gently, almost lovingly. He was gripping your hips, the nailbeds digging into your smooth, gentle skin - so tightly that you'd swear you'd have small remnants of him with you in the morning. Anytime he felt like it, he'd make you meet his dick halfway, breathlessly snickering at your ecstatic expression. You both mumbled nonsense, motivating each other to keep going, movements growing desperate as you started chasing your highs. Without Joel needing to mutter a word, your palm sneaked to your clit, your fingers rubbing frantic get gentle circles around the bundle of nerves.

"'M gonna... 'M gonna..." - Joel muttered religiously, palming one of your breasts to gently play with your nipple. "Just a bit longer, and I'm... Fuck, fuck, fuck, Joel." - It came across as a pathetic whine - the tip of his dick brushing against the most sensitive spot inside you. The burst of warmth and pleasure made you shudder, meowling to your forearm as you tried to keep your shit together. "Ya with me?" - Joel pressed on, his brain barely capable of making meaningful sentences. "Yes. Yes, yes, yes." - As he brushed the spot again, a mind-numbing orgasm washed over you. For a moment, you didn't know who the fuck you were, what your name was, where you were, or whom you were with. All you could feel was concentrated pleasure washing over your body, leaving you whining and moaning into the fabric of his shirt before letting it fall to the ground. Joel's last trusts were sloppy, almost too brutal, but soon, he was grunting as his load leaked into the condom.

"Jesus." - He muttered, gently slipping out - the emptiness hit you like a truck, almost leaving you begging for more. You'd beg if you could form any word on your tongue. - "How we doin', little lady? All parts where they should be?" - He whispered, gently helping you to stand up as he pulled your underwear and shorts back where they belonged. If you'd let him, he'd memorize how you looked - sweaty, breathing irregularly with a contained expression. Every inch of your skin was a masterpiece Joel'd carve into wood just to have it always with him. Fucking on a bathroom stall, however, wasn't the right place or time to ask for some lovey-dovey nonsense.

"You some kind of mechanic or what? I'm good, don't worry 'bout me. Gave me exactly what I wanted." "There she is, the sassy little sweetheart I couldn't get 'nough of. And... Somethin' like that. I'm a carpenter." - Joel explained, ensuring you looked somewhat presentable. It wouldn't be gentlemanly to let you walk around looking like a cute, freshly fucked mess - no matter how much this idea aroused him, letting all the men who eyed you over the night know that he was the one you chose to have the time of your day with. Instead of answering, you started laughing, catching him off-guard. - "What's funny 'bout me bein' a carpenter, hm?" "Nothin', nothin'." - You whispered, shushing his palms away to control your make-up. Well, it was decently smudged but still presentable. With how Anne looked before you and Joel took an abrupt detour to the stalls, you'd be soon on your way home anyway. - "I'll be working for a carpenter, starting fairly soon. It's just a funny coincidence, 's all."

"I see. He's a lucky man, then." - Joel hummed, caressing the apple of your cheek with his fingers before letting you steal a peck from you. - "If you'd be workin' for me, I wouldn't keep my fuckin' hands off you, sweet girl. You tell him you have another carpenter in town who wouldn't waste a second hirin' you, yeah?" "You don't mean that. That's the sex talkin'." "On my honor. If he won't treat you respectfully, yannow who to call. I can always use some help." - Teasingly slapping your ass, Joel picked his shirt and wallet off the ground, adjusting his belt and jeans. - "There's the business card, you call this number, yeah? The second one. The first one's for my office. And as a promise, you take this with ya." - Carefully, he tugged you into the shirt, smoothing your upper arms. - "'s my lucky shirt. I never go out in anythin' else. You better keep an eye out." "This gets the ladies going?" - Was what you replied, pushing your arms through the sleeves and buttoning up the lower half of the shirt. Ensuring you won't lose the card, you pushed it inside your phone case, showing it to Joel. "It got you goin', didn't it?" "Was that bloody smirk 'f yours, asshole." "Never been turned on by anyone callin' me an asshole. Whatcha doin' to me, girl? You ready to go?" - The lock was undone, and as a gesture of gratitude (and another promise), Joel offered you his palm to hold onto. To your surprise, he let you entwine your fingers with him without protesting. "Yeah. Let's go."

Thankfully, when you walked back onto the humid, heavy-aired club, Tommy and Anne were still dancing - both appeared heavily intoxicated, holding each other tightly, dancing to a sweet serenade. That, thankfully, meant no questioning for either you or Joel. As you also predicted, Anne wanted to go home when she spotted you hanging out by the bar.

Joel and Tommy helped you find a taxi, settling Anne down in the backseat - it was raining heavily, all of you jogging to the car with laughter. The night started to get cold. It was time to go home, lulled by the prospect of a date - the man in question was just pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, kissing your temple, whispering sweet nothings and goodbyes to your ear. Tommy, even though he was usually as perceptive as a stomp, left you alone and moved to smoke under a nearby umbrella, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you being all cheesy and lovey-dovey - he knew better than to mutter a word. Joel'd definitely fire back at him.

"Here's the money for the ride, tip included. Take 'em wherever they want to, the rest's yours." - Joel leaned into the cab, handing the driver a hefty bill while patting the roof - what a typical gesture. Staring at him in shock, you shook your head in disapproval - Anne pointed at him with a drunkard giggle. "I'm startin' to like your grumpy Texan ass more 'n more." "What a compliment." - Joel answered with pure irony. - "Take care, ladies. Text me when you get home, 'kay, sweetheart?" "Will do, sir. But betcha ass we'll be discussing this later." - Vaguely pointing to the driver, you spared Joel one last smile before the cab took off, driving you home. - "Take care!" - You cried out, watching his figure disappear in the distance.

Getting Anne to your room without waking up the whole block was a superhuman task - she'd trip over nothing, kept on shushing you (even though you hadn't said a word), giggling under her breath as she tried to keep her balance. You expected Mom to bust in at any minute, but only Sam inspected the ruckus. "Jesus fuckin' Christ." - The girl muttered, rubbing her eyes sleepily. The sight was hilarious, you needed to admit - Anne was sitting on the edge of your bed, rocking from side to side while attempting to take off her shoes. Her tongue, as usual, was sticking out of the corner of her mouth with pure concentration. - "I take it that the night was good?" "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. Go to sleep now, yeah?" - Smoothing her shoulder, you watched as Sammy nodded sleepily and started retreating toward her room.

Before going to sleep, you made sure Anne's clothes were hung enough to dry out before she departed after tomorrow's dinner, and that her hair was neatly covered with a towel. As promised, before hitting the sack, you sent Joel a short text to let him know you're both safe at home, wishing him a good night. The night was something - sex with Joel helped you sober up, and thanks to Anne's overwhelming, unmissable snoring, you took one hell of a time to fall asleep. While Anne was knocked out in an instant, you had to roll around for quite some time before you finally fell asleep - dreaming of Joel, his big hands, honest smiles, and passionate kisses.

"Are you fuckin' with me? That happened? And it was that good?" - Anne squealed, pushing half a waffle inside her mouth. Her appetite (despite the hangover she must've had) always surprised you. Nobody should be this hungry after digesting such an ungodly amount of alcohol... Nobody. Sam, responsible for bringing you a very late breakfast to bed, had her eyes glued to your lips, listening to how you described what had happened in the bathroom stalls. - "... Didn't even notice you two were gone." "No wonder. You two were fucking out of it. They were wobbling around to Long Long Time by the time we got back, both sobbing their asses off." "Uh-uh, that didn't fuckin' happen. Don't believe a word comin' out of this wench's mouth, Sammy." "In all fairness, it's a solid song." - Sam reiterated, having Anne snapping, humming approvingly. "Amen, sister. Girl knows her stuff."

"Back to the guy. So you texted him goodnight? As he asked?" - Sam pried further, laying down as she stared at you. "Mhmh." "Had he replied?" "Yes." "WHAT DID HE-?" - Anne squealed even louder, earning an elbow to her side. Rubbing the spot, she looked at you. - "Bitch, you hadn't told me he actually reached back out. What did the super hot, hunky, gruff cowboy say? Spill it." "Well, he wished me a good morning for starters, unlike someone..." - Alluding to how Anne's first sentence consisted of 'Girl, I don't know if it's gonna come outta my mouth or ass first, so you better move' and keeping the duo tensed up, a smile spread on your lips. - "He started asking when I was free but told me he couldn't go out today because of this dinner with his best buddy. So... I have a date tomorrow." "You're shitting me!" - Anne muttered, giggling her ass off. "Dude, keep it the fuck down. I don't wanna explain this to my mom." "Yeah, yeah, whatever. What's your take on the situation, young padawan?" - Without sparing you a look, Anne just waved you off and pointed her fork in Sam's direction.

"He sounds like a genuinely great guy. A bit of an age difference? No prob, sis. On the other hand, if you'd bring home an eighty-year-old gramps with diapers and prescribed meds..." "Samantha!" - Gasping for air, you threw a strawberry her way - grinning from ear to ear, Sam caught in on her first try. - "'s that what you think of me? Thank you kindly. That's so fucked up." "You asked me a question, and I gave you an answer. Grow up. But no cap - you're glowing just talking about the guy. You're all flustered, giggly, playing with your hair and... It's nice to see you like that." "She ain't wrong... She ain't wrong at all."

Dinner preparations consisted of pure chaos - Fleetwood Mac's biggest hits playing out of your dad's stereo as you helped around the kitchen, Anne occasionally dipping to comment on the baseball game your dad watched in the living room. The entire house was pristine, not a dust particle in sight as if the Queen of England was about to drop for a visit. Your mom pulled out her best decorations and fanciest set of plates, asking you to decorate them with napkins. Sam was with you the entire time, carefully watching your moves as if you weren't real - even giving in to dance with you to Dreams, both laughing as you clumsily wobbled around the dining room.

When it was around 4pm, you all hid in Sam's room to make yourselves look presentable - Sammy opted for a cutesy wollen vest, a short-sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. With her hair styled in a high ponytail, she looked genuinely cutesy. Anne borrowed one of the fancy dresses you used to wear for work, pairing it with her pair of good ol' trusty pair of Vans - as per usual, Anne would've looked hot as fuck even if she'd worn a potato bag. You opted for a more casual, relaxed fit. You dug out a flowy black dress with polka dots all over it, choosing a relaxed hairstyle and light layer of make-up to go with it. You assumed you didn't have to sit around dressed like you were waiting for a job interview since the guy was your dad's best friend.

"They're here!" - Mom cried out over the music blasting in the living room - your dad changed it to good ol' Bruce Spingsteen's Born in the U.S.A. "Aight, how do I look?" - You asked, twirling around to let both the girls see - you wanted to leave a good first impression on your soon-to-be employer and a trusted family friend, as well as on his brother. "You're looking good. I've told you a million times already - Joel doesn't make a fuss about such things. I've worked for him for a year and a half, so I'd be the one to know." - Sam muttered, rolling her eyes. She'd spent the last hour assuring you looked amazing and impressionable, that was much true. - "Just come already, Jesus. You'll relax once you see him." - With that, she started descending the stairs, loudly greeting the guests.

"Like a snack." - Anne suggested, having you shaking your head. "Not the time..." "What if he's like... Smoking hot?" "He's also my dad's best friend. No way in hell..." "Never say never." "That's why I usually don't ask for your fucking input, Anne." "Chill, girl, you got this. Take a breath, shake the nerves off... You look fucking amazing, and you're way smarter than... Oh... Oh, fuck." - She was standing on top of the stairs, her palm clutching the railing until her knuckles turned white. All emotion suddenly drained from her expression, her face growing pale, and her eyes widened at the sight. Slowly, you peeked around the corner, your eyes meeting the strangers immediately.

What if he was smoking hot, huh? Well, you knew for a fact he was. Those lips were kissing you yesterday. Those palms chalked up the cue for you, teasing you how to play billiard without getting a cramp in your palm. These eyes watched you as if you were the only woman in the club, following each step you took, his palm never shying away from grasping the small of your back. You saw him undress for you. You felt him pounding into you when he chased his release. You listened to his voice pouring sweet nothings and perverted, arousing nonsense into your ears as he fucked you. You had his number saved in his phone. You had a date set with him. It was Joel. Joel, the mysterious hunky gruff cowboy. Joel, who was staring back at you with the same horror in his eyes. Joel, who was your dad's best fucking friend.

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck indeed.

Thank you for reading! 🩷 Reblogs and comments are appreciated; in case you have any questions or scenarios you'd like to see, hmu in dms or under the post. 🩷 Have a nice day!

#dbf!joel #dbf!joel x afab!reader #joel miller #joel the last of us #tommy miller #tommy miller the last of us #well boys #here we fucking go #the cat's out of the bag #everything's doom and gloom #also I love writing for tommy #he's so fun to play around with #smutty smut smut #dbf!joel brainrot be too strong for my sorry lil ass #like lord help me #this man is too much for me

27 notes · View notes