#so im not sure im the right person to ask

[thinkinonsense]

i just listened to sabrina's new album and oh my god the song slim pickins is such a song that was written from daydreaming about lumberjack!logan, oh and the recent fic that you reblogged was just so yummy and perfect for that song especially the lyrics "a boy who's jacked and nice" like god having to settle down for less because nobody can be him 😭😭😭 need him expeditiously im afraid

it's slim pickins

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: yearning!! fluff, tiny nsfw conversation (nothing graphic)

a/n: this request couldn't have come in at a better time because i'm seeing sabrina on opening night of her tour tomorrow night!! <3

masterlist

"am i just destined to be alone forever?"

another friday night in the hole in the wall bar outside of town. another date gone horribly wrong. your question hangs heavy in the air as you gossip to your best friend who's bartending tonight.

"you keep picking douche bags." she answers without missing a beat.

"well, that's fuckin' rude." you slur slightly, sipping on your third fruity drink tonight.

"well, it's fuckin' true." she smiles, looking over your shoulder at a group of men that walked in. "why don't you go talk to one of them? they look hot."

you spin around in your stool to see a group of lumberjack workers. these were the men that you worked with, you can't flirt with them.

"i work with those guys!" you hiss.

"sooo...?" she smirks.

both of you quickly end the conversation with the five guys approach the bar. the last thing you needed was for these guys to see the desperate and pathetic look on your face. quickly, you rummage through your purse for some cash to put down.

"what are you doing here, doll face?" a familiar voice asks.

you look up and see the most handsome of the men, in front of you; logan. twice your size, buff, toned, tan... god, you had such a crush on him. never in a million years would you go after him though, he's too good to want a girl like you. you were just a friend. he make small talk with you, laughed at your jokes, calls you little nicknames, and refills the coffee pot for you but thats what friends do, right?

"oh... um, i'm just-"

"she's been sitting here moaning and bitching to me all night about her horrible date." your best friend smiles then introduces herself to logan with a handshake.

"thanks asshole." you mumble under your breath at her, making logan chuckle.

"tough night?" he asks, looking down at you in a way that makes heat rises up your face.

"kinda, but i'll save you all the gory details." you admit, sliding off the tall stool a little ungracefully. "have a good night, logan."

"wait, doll face." he says, grabbing your arm to balance you. "wanna talk about it? i'm sure your friend here is busy."

the alcohol let him take you to one of the booths. all the other men noticed logan and you sitting together, definitely making mental notes to tease you both on monday.

"so, what's on your mind?" logan asks, taking a swig of his beer.

"it's nothing really..." your mouth says one thing but your phone says another; practically buzzing off the table.

"you sure?" he raises a brow.

"uh... yeah?" you sound confused as you peak at the notification. an annoyed groan falls from your lips as you slam the phone back down and sink into the booth. "why? why? why?"

"why what?" he squints.

"be honest, do i have dumbass written on my forehead?" you sigh, hazily looking over at logan. the question threw him off guard; unsure if you're joking or not.

"no." he answers.

" well, i sure feel like one. every guy i've gone out with is either the most obnoxious asshole i've ever met who's still hung up on his ex or he's absolutely perfect but he's just not ready for a commitment right now? what the fuck does that even mean?"

all of your drunk rambling surprised logan. at work, he's only seen your shy personality as you scribble down numbers and log them into spreadsheets. this was a completely different side of you.

"i know what you're thinking, 'why not just try dating a woman?'. well, i fucking would if this town wasn't stuck in the 50's, except the men aren't going to war in order to get away from you, instead they just run back in between their ex's thighs and pull that 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit."

it was getting harder for logan not to crack at your silly yet, adorable expressions as you rant.

"and the worst part is that they can't even get a woman to orgasm." you say a little quieter. logan stores that quote in his pocket for another time. "a few weeks ago, i literally had a man in my bed who didn't know the difference between their, there, and they're! i don't know who's stupider, him for not knowing or me for letting him give me the worst head in my life."

if you were even a little sober, this would be mortifying. sitting in front of your work crush and spilling pathetic details of your love life to him. if you were even a little sober, you would have notice his eyes turn dark and lustful under the dim bar lighting. logan couldn’t fathom that you were having trouble in your love life.

"sounds like it's slim pickins out there."

"you have no idea." you sigh.

"if it makes you feel any better, i don't think that you're stupid."

"you're just saying that to be polite. trust me, everyone thinks i'm an idiot for taking these guys back every time. im just like my mom, my sisters, my friends, and every other girl i know. we make up excuses for their shitty behavior because we are afraid to be alone."

logan could see tears forming in your waterline, about to roll down your cheek. it hurt him to see you so heartbroken over these losers. everyday at work, you came in like a ray of fucking sunshine. you didn't deserve to be treated like this.

"it's not your fault that those asshole don't know how to treat a woman." he sighs, leaning forward in an attempt to comfort you.

"i know, i know..." your voice was cracking and you didn't want logan to see you so vulnerable. suddenly, you rise from the booth. "thanks for listening, logan."

"where do you think you're going, doll face?" he asks, following you out the door.

"should head home." you mumble, pulling up the number of a car service about twenty minutes out.

"let me give you a ride home." he offers. "you've been drinking too much."

it's late, you're exhausted and heartbroken so, you let him help you into his truck. it's kinda old but full of character, like logan.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" logan asks, breaking the silence in the car. "still sad?"

you shrug. "think i'm just going to become a nun."

he tried, he really did, but he had to laugh.

"sweetheart, there's no need to become a nun."

"well, i'm never going to find the man i'm looking for so, might as well join the sisterhood."

"what are you looking for in this dream man?"

logan's question has your eyes wondering over to where his left hand sets on the wheel and his right on thigh. the images of what his hands could do flood your fuzzy mind.

"j-just a good guy who's um, who's kind, jacked... respectful, good with his hands...."

it was shameless, your staring that is. logan worried you might get drool on the car seat, not that he would mind.

"hm... those seem like simple requirements there."

"apparently not." you giggle. "it's fine, though. i'm sure the nuns will be friendly."

"still thinking about joining the 'sisterhood'?" he asks, pulling up to your drive way.

"maybe... i'll give it twenty-four hours and if he doesn't come knocking on my door, i'll just buy a chasity belt and go off the grid with the nuns." your smile warmed his cold bitter heart. "thanks for the ride, lo. i'll see you monday."

as logan watches you fumble with your keys and make your way inside, he fights an internal battle over his feelings. he has had a crush on you since the day the two of you first met. by the end of the week, you had baked him some cupcakes, babbling about how you do this for all the new employees, which was far from the truth he later learned.

you captured his heart. even when he tried to burry his feelings for you, when logan looked at you, his world stood still for a moment. he looked forward to all your silly jokes in the break room or the ridiculous gossip you would tell him when he lingered outside of your office door. he couldn't let you slip away into the arms of another asshole who didn't deserve you.

before logan could comprehend what he was doing, his feet lead him up to your door, knocking twice. the wooden door opened and he knew he made the right decision.

there you were in your light blue and grey plaid pajamas with a cupcake in your hand and vanilla frosting on your bottom lip. logan had never seen you look prettier.

"hey? did i leave something in the–"

in the blink of an eye, logan’s hands reach up to caress your jaw, leaning in until his mouth engulfs yours. the taste of vanilla and alcohol surrounded both of you. forgetting the cupcake in your hand, dropping it to reach up and pull logan closer. kissing him was like drinking a glass of wine after a long day. no more stress or anxiety over anyone else’s bullshit. the two of you gasp against each others lips, catching your breath.

“i could be the good guy, you know?” logan pants, now forever addicted to your taste. “i could be the good guy for you.”

your heart fluttered as you stared up at his pretty hazel eyes, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger. this had to be a very realistic dream, thats the only answer to this.

“you would do that for me, logan?” your delicate voice could bring him to his knees, worshiping the ground you walk on.

“i would do anything for you, honey.” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you again. maybe your dream guy wasn't as far away as you thought?

[nova-is-a-writer-now]

Highway Heat

Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and the trucker you flag down offers more than just roadside assistance.

A/N: Lord oh lord… I tried to be good i swear, i really tried to behave. The thing is my sweet beta reader @hautecouture02 requested a little roadside encounter one shot with Joel, specifically asking for FLUFF, and i swear on everything holy I tried my best to keep it PG… but sometimes things don’t go as I planned. So here, take this absolute filth of a one shot that’s little more than PWOP. ENJOY!!!!

Warnings: As previously stated, this is pretty much PWOP, Trucker!Joel i know nothing about trucks lol, maybe some dub!con at first but the internal dialogue shows hella consent, groping, fingering, a bit of praise and a bit of degradation, pet names like so many of them im not gonna list them all almost too many pet names if you believe in such a thing, grinding, oral male receiving, deep throating

Masterlist

You’re a good person—hell, a great person even. You give your spare change to homeless people, you donate to the puppy shelter every once in a while, you hold your friend’s hair back when they’re throwing up in the back of the club. You’re definitely not the type of person who deserves to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, sweating buckets despite wearing nothing but a spaghetti strap tank and the tiniest pair of shorts you own. This feels like some kind of cosmic punishment.

It is, undoubtedly, the worst possible time for your car to stop working. You’d been putting off the usual checkups on your car for months, knowing full well it was overdue for an oil change, a tire rotation—or whatever men who know their way around a toolbox always say. Your ex used to handle all of that for you, always acting like it was his job to make sure your car ran smoothly. He was that kind of guy who would go out of his way to make your life easier—didn’t mean he was above cheating though.

So now, you’re stuck in your geriatric Honda Civic, the AC busted and the engine refusing to start.

After a few minutes of trying to will it back to life, it’s clear you’re stranded.

You step out of the car, and the heat hits you like a goddamn slap to the face. The road’s deserted, no signs of life for miles, and of course, your phone has no signal. Perfect. Just fucking perfect. You glance down the road, hoping for a miracle, when you spot the rough outline of a truck—a big one, maybe a sixteen-wheeler—coming up in the distance.

Relief washes over you for about two seconds before your brain kicks in, running through every horror movie scenario. But it’s not like you’ve got a buffet of options, so you throw up your hand, waving the truck down as it rolls closer.

It’s a beat-up old thing, paint chipped and covered in dust, but it comes to a slow stop right behind your car. The door creaks open, and out steps a man.

He’s tall, broad, with a face lined with age and tan from long days under the sun. The net cap he wears lets a few of his longer dark curls peek out, the front pieces overpowered by graying hair. He sports a faded plaid shirt and jeans, a pair of well-worn boots kicking up dust as he steps toward you. His dark, intense eyes size you up like you’re part of the landscape he’s used to navigating.

“You alright there, sweetheart?” His voice is deep and gravelly, but the drawl is the star of the show, thick and sweet like honey.

You clear your throat, trying to keep your frustration in check. “Car broke down. Won’t start. No service either.”

He nods slowly, like this is exactly the kind of situation he expects to find out here. “Well, good thing I’m passin’ through.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes a little at that, but desperation makes you bite your tongue. “Think you could take a look?”

He stares at you for a moment, long enough that you wonder if he’s going to offer any help at all. But then he lets out a low sigh, scratches the back of his neck, and walks over to your car, popping the hood like it’s second nature.

For a while, there’s nothing but the sound of him tinkering under the hood, the occasional grunt or muttered curse as he checks things out. You stand there awkwardly, feeling the heat bearing down on you, watching as beads of sweat gather at the back of his neck.

Finally, he steps back, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Shit’s runnin’ on fumes. When’s the last time you had it serviced?””

You shift, feeling stupid. “A while. My ex used to handle it, and, uh… I’ve been busy.”

He gives you a look, something between amusement and pity, before shaking his head. He leans against the car, arms crossed. “I can tow you to a shop in the next town, but it gon’ be a ride.”

You blink up at him, surprised at his offer. “You don’t mind?”

“Nah,” he says, with a shrug, “I’m headin’ that way anyway.”

He moves back to his truck, grabbing a few chains and a tow hitch from the back. Within minutes, he’s hooking up your beat-up Honda Civic to the rear of his truck, working with the ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times before.

“You sure this is safe?” you ask, watching him as he tightens the last chain.

“As safe as it’s gonna get,” he replies with a shrug, brushing the dust from his hands. “Ain’t no mechanic shop out here, so this’ll do ‘til we get to the next town.”

You hesitate, then eye him. “You’re not gonna, like, chop me up and throw me in a ditch, are you?”

He chuckles at that, a nice gravely sound. “If I was, don’t think I’d tell ya, sugar. But no, I ain’t in the business of chopping people up.”

You look at him for a bit longer before sighing. “Fuck it, let’s go.”

He turns, heading back to his truck, his broad back facing you and making it a hell of a lot harder to concentrate

“Name’s Joel, by the way,” he says, glancing back over his shoulder as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say, stepping up into the truck’s cab, the cool air from his AC hitting you like a blessing. Maybe your luck hasn’t run out just yet.

You sink back into the seat as he climbs up on his side of the cab, letting the icy air wash over you. There’s something else prickling at your senses though—something that has nothing to do with the temperature. It’s him.

Joel’s glances are obvious, a little too long, lingering like he’s sizing you up. Normally, it’d make you roll your eyes, maybe even tell him off. Old guy like him eyeing you up is nothing you’re unfamiliar with. But today? With the way your body feels sticky and tired, and the way the breakup has left you all out of sorts… you’re almost enjoying it.

You’ve been craving attention and the shitty one night stands with guys from dating apps have done nothing to satiate that need. It’s been months since anyone has touched you and that rational part of your brain that would be yelling at you to be aware of the sleazy old trucker who just picked you off of the side of the road is sounding real quiet right now.

“So…” His voice pulls you from your thoughts as he shifts in his seat, resting one hand lazily on the wheel. “Where you headed?”

You hesitate, eyes on the road ahead. “Just… trying to get home.”

He hums, slow and deliberate. “Home, huh? Got anyone waitin’ on you there? Boyfriend?”

The word slices through you, sharper than you expected. You tighten your jaw, glancing out the window. “No. Not anymore.”

Joel makes a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. “Well, ain’t that a shame. Pretty thing like you, all alone.”

You should hate the way he says it, the way his eyes flicker toward you like he’s just waiting for an opening. But instead, there’s a strange warmth pooling in your stomach, your pulse picking up in a way you’re not proud of. You shift in your seat, crossing your legs like it’ll somehow tamp down the growing tension in your body. He doesn’t miss it, his smirk growing a little wider.

“That line work on most girls?” you quip, trying to keep things light.

Joel chuckles, the sound low and dangerous. “Depends on the girl. But you look a little… flustered.”

Your cheeks heat up, and it’s not just the sun this time. “I’m not flustered.”

“Sure about that, darlin’?”

You glare at the open road, biting your lip as you try to ignore the way his words are messing with your head—and your body. It’s been way too long since anyone’s looked at you like this. Really looked at you.

The silence stretches out as the truck rumbles along the deserted road. You try to focus on anything but the tension in the air and find it’s impossible. His presence feels inescapable, it fills the cab wrapping around you, pressing down on every nerve.

“You never told me,” Joel says after a while, breaking the quiet. “Where’s home?”

“Texas,” you say quietly, your voice a little steadier now. “But I’m not in any rush to get back.”

“Family trouble?” he asks, his eyes flicking toward you again.

“Something like that,” you mutter. “It’s complicated.”

He hums in response. “Don’t I know it.”

You shift in your seat, crossing your legs, catching Joel watching you out of the corner of his eye. His gaze lingers a little too long on your bare thighs, and there’s a flicker of something dark passing over his face, but he says nothing.

You want to ignore it—God, you should ignore it—especially since you’re stuck with him for a while longer. But the rising heat in your body and the quickening pulse beneath your skin make it hard to think straight, harder still to make good decisions.

So you bite.

“You gonna keep staring, or is this part of your charm routine?” You cock a brow, trying to ignore the way warmth crawls up your neck.

A slow smirk curls at his lips, but he doesn’t look away. If anything, he leans in closer, his hand resting just near your leg, making the air between you buzz. “You think I’m layin’ it on too thick?”

“Little bit,” you quip back, though your voice betrays you with how soft it comes out. You bite your lip, trying to stay sharp, but his eyes flick down to the movement, and the pulsing need low in your stomach tightens. “It’s not working, though.”

His smirk widens, like he’s enjoying this far too much. “Funny. Seems to me it’s workin’ just fine.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the way your heart races when he shifts closer, his fingers brushing against your leg. The touch is light, almost casual, but it’s enough to send a shiver racing up your spine, your breath catching in your throat.

“You can roll your eyes all you want, doll. It don’t change the fact I can see what you need, clear as day,” he purrs, his voice dropping lower.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” you snap back, though your words lack the heat you want them to have.

“Little bit of attention.”

He reads you too well. It drives you insane. “I don’t need anything from you. Just get me where I need to go.”

A quiet chuckle rumbles from his chest. “That so? ’Cause the way you’ve been shiftin’ in that seat says otherwise.”

You bristle at his words, but the truth sticks like a thorn. There’s a reason you haven’t told him to stop, a reason you haven’t shut this down. You’re tired, frustrated, and the way his eyes keep grazing over you… you can’t stop wondering how easy it’d be to let him pull you under, to let him take all your worries away.

“You’re losing it, old man,” you shoot back, even though you know it’s a losing game. He sees right through you, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna make it easy.

“Am I?” he purrs, his hand sliding up to rest fully on your thigh. “So, you don’t want me touching you like this, darlin’?”

The way he says it—slow, deliberate, laced with that sweet, thick accent—it’s all innocence, even though everything about it screams otherwise. You know you’ll be hearing that “darlin’” in your head later, when you’re playing with yourself.

You smirk, giving him a little more rope. “I didn’t say that.”

He hums, eyes flicking between the road and your legs. “And I’m guessin’ you wouldn’t say a word if I moved my hand higher, would you?”

Your legs part just slightly, almost like an instinct. Barely noticeable to anyone else. But not to Joel.

“Look at you,” he drawls, a shit-eating smirk spreading across his lips. “Already makin’ it easier for me.”

You’re about to fire back, ready to keep this banter rolling, when his fingers slide higher. A soft sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“You ready to stop actin’ up, or we still playin’ cat and mouse, pretty girl?” His eyes lock on yours, dark and unwavering.

Your pulse quickens at the challenge in his voice, your breath catching in your throat. His fingers are still on your thigh, warm and rough, and it’s messing with your head. You know you should stop this now, make him pull his hand back, but you’re not sure if that’s what you want.

“I’m not acting up,” you murmur, trying to hold on to some sense of control, even though his touch is making that damn near impossible.

His grin widens, like he’s got you exactly where he wants you. “Mhm, sure you ain’t.”

You glare at him, but it’s weak. Pathetic, really, and the worst part is he knows it. He knows how to get under your skin even though he has known you for half an hour, knows exactly what buttons to push to unravel you just enough to keep you hanging on.

“I mean it,” you snap, though your voice wavers. His hand shifts slightly on your thigh, fingers curling just enough to make your stomach twist into knots.

“I wanna believe you,” His voice is low, a quiet rumble that vibrates through you, all the way down to where you’re aching for him to touch you. He leans in a little more, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off him, smell that familiar scent of worn leather and something dark and intoxicating. “But you keep lettin’ me touch you. Kinda sends a different message, don’t you think?”

Your heart’s pounding in your chest, the steady rhythm of it loud in your ears. You don’t know how to answer, don’t know if you want to answer. Every rational thought in your head is telling you to stop, but your body isn’t listening.

Instead, you shift slightly, your leg pressing into his hand, just enough to encourage him to keep going. His eyes darken, and a slow, dangerous smile tugs at his lips.

“Thought so,” he mutters, and then his fingers start to move again, sliding higher, testing the boundaries you haven’t set.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the sigh that’s clawing its way up your throat, but it slips through anyway. He hears it, of course he does, and the satisfied gleam in his eyes makes your face flush with heat.

“You wanna tell me to stop, now’s your chance,” he murmurs, his voice soft but carrying an edge of challenge, like he knows damn well you’re not going to.

His gaze shifts between the road and you and it almost seems like every time those eyes are back on you they become darker.

You glance at him, your heart in your throat, and there’s that flicker of hesitation—you should say something, should stop this before it goes any further—but the way his fingers are brushing higher, dangerously close to the ache between your legs, makes it impossible to think straight.

So you just meet his gaze, and you don’t say a word.

His smirk grows, and his hand drifts even higher. “Good girl.” This time he fully gropes your thigh, groaning like he’s been waiting to unleash this. “You wanna take these off for me, sweetheart? Let me give you as much attention as you want.”

He must have some psychic hold on you because you follow his instructions with no hesitation this time. Your fingers eagerly unbotton your shorts and pull the zipper down, lifting your hips to shimmy them down.

He looks at you for a lot longe than he should taking into account he’s currently driving a beast of a vehicle. “Lord above… you’re a sight and a half, darlin’”

He goes back to massaging your thigh, making circles with his thick fingers, going each time higher. Once he reaches your panties he stops and just rests his hand there, right at the edge of where you want him most. His fingers teasingly brush the fabric, enough to make you gasp, but he doesn’t go any further.

“You’re gonna have to ask for it,” he rasps, his voice thick with something darker now. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

His words are like a key turning in a lock, and your resistance crumbles. You can’t deny it anymore, not when his hand is right there, so close to what you need, your entire body burning up under his touch.

“Joel…” you whisper, your voice almost pleading now, barely more than a breath.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his hand pressing a little more firmly, his fingers tracing along the outline of your heat through the fabric. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

Your breath stutters, and your hips shift on their own, pressing into his hand. You’re barely hanging on, the tension between you two crackling like a live wire, but he’s still holding back, waiting for you to give in completely.

“Please…” you finally manage, the word spilling out before you can stop it. It’s humiliating and liberating all at once.

“Please what?”

You let out the shadow of a moan. “Please touch me.”

Joel’s hand slips under the fabric, his fingers finally finding your core, and the groan that escapes him sends a shockwave of heat straight to your core. “Good girl,” he breathes, his voice like gravel as his fingers start to move in slow, torturous circles.

Your head falls back against the seat, a whimper escaping your lips as he finally gives you what you’ve been craving. “Jesus, Joel…”

“Feels good, huh?” he rasps, his eyes flicking from the road to you, watching the way your body reacts to every touch, every motion of his hand. “Told you I know exactly what you need, baby.”

You’re melting under his touch, your body humming with the pressure of his fingers moving against you, his voice guiding you deeper into the haze of pleasure. You’re not even sure what’s more intoxicating—the way he’s touching you or the way he’s talking to you, that low, commanding tone unraveling you completely.

“That’s it, sweetness, grind on my fingers, make that little pussy feel good” Joel growls, having a harder time keeping his eyes on the road now.

“Fuck… that feels you good da-“ you stop yourself before you’re able to finish the word. Your ex didn’t like you calling him that, so you usually kept that particular kink under wraps, but something about Joel is making it surface back up.

He looks up at you, pupils blown out. “Say it… say wha you wanna say baby.”

You lose all restraint and moan loudly. “It feels so good, daddy.”

“That’s right, babygirl.” He moans “Daddy’s fingers make your pretty cunt fucking drip don’t they?”

His words send a wave of pleasure through your body, a mixture of shame and intense arousal surging in your chest. You’re too far gone to stop now, letting the haze of lust pull you under completely.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word slipping out like a confession. “So fucking wet.”

Joel’s fingers move faster, rough and skilled, coaxing you into a rhythm that has you arching your back against the seat. His other hand grips the wheel tight, knuckles white, and you can tell he’s barely hanging onto his self-control, but that only makes it hotter.

“Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ dream,” he growls, voice thick with desire. “Been wantin’ to ruin you since the minute you sat your pretty ass in this truck.”

The vulgarity, the way he talks to you—it should feel wrong, but instead, it’s like gasoline thrown on the fire already burning inside you. You grind down harder on his fingers, chasing the high he’s offering, the tension building fast in your core.

You glance over at him, his jaw tight, eyes darting between the road and you, and there’s something so filthy about the way he’s trying to keep it together while driving, the way his control is slipping. You want to push him, make him lose it completely.

“You’re losing it too,” you pant, breathless, pushing your hips into his hand. “Can’t even keep your eyes on the road, can you?”

His gaze snaps to yours, dark and predatory. “Careful. Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll pull this truck over.”

The threat in his voice makes you shiver, heat pooling low in your belly. You’re right on the edge, your body strung tight as a bow, every nerve lit up under his touch.

“Do it,” you challenge, voice breathless and wrecked.

Joel’s eyes flash with something dangerous, his hand gripping your thigh so hard it almost hurts. Without another word, he swerves the truck off the road, gravel crunching under the tires as he pulls into a secluded spot off the highway.

Your heart is pounding, adrenaline mixing with the arousal as he throws the truck into park and turns to face you fully. The look in his eyes is feral, like he’s done holding back, and you brace yourself for what’s coming next.

“Such a little attention whore, baby,” he growls, unbuckling his seatbelt with one hand, the other still teasing you between your legs. “I’m all yours now.”

In one swift motion, he pulls you onto his lap, your thighs straddling his hips, the weight of his hard length pressing against you through his jeans. He is big, a lot bigger than you expected and it makes your mouth water,almost like your body is showing you how badly you need him in a million and one ways.

His hands grip your hips possessively, eyes locking with yours as if daring you to make the next move.

You don’t hesitate. You grind down on him, both of you letting out low moans at the contact. The friction sends sparks flying up your spine, and you can already tell this is about to be the kind of reckless, dirty, no-going-back encounter you’ve both been craving.

Joel’s hands slide up your back, fisting in your hair as he pulls you down to feast on your neck. His lips trail down, biting at the sensitive skin there, and it’s too much, too intense. You feel like you’re going to combust right here in his arms.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he mutters against your skin, one hand slipping between you to push your panties aside, his fingers slipping through your slick heat again. “Filthy little slut, letting a stranger put his fingers inside you. Gonna make you come so hard you forget your own name, pretty girl.”

Your hips buck against him, the promise of release so close you can taste it. “Fuck, Joel, please…”

“Try again. You know better.” his tone is firm and commanding, all the previous playfulness gone.

“Please daddy, let me come”

“That’s it,” he groans, his thumb circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure, pushing you right to the edge. “Come for me, darlin’. Let me feel this tight little whole clench on my fingers.”

The way he says it with such authority, has you unraveling in his lap, your entire body trembling as you come hard against his hand. Your vision goes white, pleasure crashing over you in waves as you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

Joel watches you, his eyes hooded and hungry, soaking in every second of your release. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers until you’re shaking from the aftershocks, your body limp and boneless against him.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and satisfied as he finally pulls his hand away, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you. “Tastes even better than I imagined.”

You’re still catching your breath, head buzzing from the intensity, but the way his hardness presses against you makes it clear you’re far from done. It’s not like those other times when finishing a guy felt like an obligation, when the effort barely felt worth it because they didn’t take the time to get you there first. But Joel? Joel made you come so hard you can’t help but want to return the favor. It’s not a chore—it’s something you crave.

“My turn,” you murmur, fingers already working at the button of his jeans.

His grip tightens on your hips, eyes darkening as he watches your hands move, but there’s a flicker of restraint. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart. Can’t have this beast of a truck just parked in the middle of the road.”

You shift back onto your own seat, lifting your leg off his lap to give yourself the space you need. The desire to make him feel just as wrecked as you burns in your chest, so you lean down, your gaze steady on his as your fingers trail lower.

“You can drive,” you say, voice low, teasing. “I’m not stopping you.”

Joel’s eyes flash with something dangerous, his jaw ticking like he’s fighting with himself. For a second, you think he’s going to tell you to stop, but then he huffs out a breath, shaking his head with a low chuckle. “You’re trouble.”

You smile up at him as you feel him start the engine again, your hand slipping lower, teasing him through his jeans.

Joel’s breath hitches as your fingers brush against him, a low growl vibrating in his chest. His hand tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as he tries to focus on the road, but you can tell he’s losing the battle.

His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he tries to keep his cool, but you can see right through it. The way his body is responding to your touch, the way he’s barely holding it together, it only spurs you on.

You undo his jeans and pull the zipper down, feeling the heat radiating off him. His breath stutters, and his hand slips to grip the side of the seat, trying to ground himself as you free him from the confines of his jeans.

You wrap your hand around him, feeling how hard he is, how thick, and the groan that escapes his lips sends a thrill through you. “Fuck,” he breathes, eyes flicking between the road and you, his control slipping more by the second.

You lower your head, your lips grazing his tip, and Joel’s entire body tenses. His hips buck up, instinctively searching for more, and you can’t help but smirk as you take him deeper into your mouth.

“Holy shit,” he groans, his voice rough and ragged, his hand instinctively flying to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

But even as he says it, there’s no hint of him wanting you to stop. He keeps urging you on in slow, measured strokes. The tension in him is palpable, and you can feel the way his control is fraying with every flick of your tongue, every inch you take him deeper.

His breathing grows ragged, and he glances down at you, eyes dark with heat and disbelief. “You’re so pretty with a fat cock stuffed in your mouth baby, look at you ”

You hum around him, the vibration making his hips jerk again, and the low groan that rips from his throat sends a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through you. He’s unraveling, right in front of you, and you’re loving every second of it.

You pick up the pace, your hand working him in tandem with your mouth, and Joel’s growl turns guttural, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Right there, darlin’ girl, don’t stop…” he hisses, head tipping back slightly as his hips move in time with your rhythm, chasing the release that’s so damn close.

His eyes flick between the road and you, pupils blown, struggling to stay on course even as his focus is being torn apart by you.

“Fuck, baby… I’m not gonna last if you keep—” He cuts himself off with a harsh groan, his hips bucking again, muscles taut and trembling as he loses the last shred of his composure. He’s completely at your mercy now, and it’s making him wild, his control slipping fast.

You don’t let up, your hand dropping lower to play with his balls, and he’s right on the edge, teetering dangerously close. His breath comes in ragged bursts, and his body tightens under you, his hips jerking harder, more desperate now.

“Where do you want it, baby?”

Instead of answering you take him deeper down your throat, your nose burrowing in the dark curls at the base of his cock, his smell so musky and intoxicating it makes you dizzy.

“Shit, shit—” Joel’s voice is a strangled growl, and then you feel him pulse in your mouth, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he finally comes undone. He’s barely holding onto the wheel, the truck swerving just enough to make your heart race, but it’s clear he’s past caring. He spills hot and hard into your mouth, the sound of his release drowned out by the pounding of your own pulse in your ears.

You keep going, milking him for every last bit, until he’s trembling beneath you, his breathing ragged and uneven. When you finally pull away, he’s still gripping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing anchoring him to reality.

“Holy fuck,” he mutters, his voice rough and wrecked. His eyes flick down to you, wild and wide, before darting back to the road. He lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “Best hitchhiker I’ve ever picked up, that’s for damn sure.”

As if on cue, the truck finally pulls into the shop, the hum of the engine fading, the weight of what just happened still hung thick between you two. Joel cuts the ignition, his hand lingering on the key for a beat too long, like he wasn’t quite ready to step back into reality. He realizes his now soft cock is still out and starts to zip himself back up.

You try to gather yourself, smoothing your clothes and brushing a hand through your hair as if it’d erase everything that had gone down on that highway. You can tell it’s gonna stick with you for a good while longer though.

Joel clears his throat, glancing over at you with a look that was somehow both satisfied and conflicted. "Well, we’re here," he mutters, but his hand was already fishing in his back pocket for something. "Here." He hands you a crumpled business card, his name scrawled across it with a number underneath. "In case you run into any more car trouble or, y'know... anything else."

The corner of his mouth twitches, like he knows damn well this had nothing to do with the rugged old thing and everything to do with the heat still simmering between you. You take the card, trying to hide the smirk tugging at your lips.

"Thanks," you reply, pocketing it casually, though the way your heart raced gave you away. "For… you know, all of it."

He just gives you that signature look of his—half-smirk, half-smolder—and with that, you slide out of the truck, legs still feeling like jelly as you walked away. You didn't even need to turn around to know his eyes were glued to your retreating figure.

[moronkyne]

More Random Redacted Headcanons

Also I love y’all’s feedback, so

-> Angel likes to go “….Im telling a trusted adult” to David whenever he says (or used to say) questionable things. Or, to anyone in general.

-> Darlin’ is everyone’s ride. Specifically for the mates. They’ll all be walking out of the mall and Darlin’ would come up in their car, hollerin “Hey pretty (boy/girl/baby), you singleeeeee?”

-> Morgan is a selfless person. Honestly, this is more canon than not, but, here’s my little input. Ask him to go down to the nearest cafe for a coffee run? It doesn’t matter if he just placed his bag down. He’ll make sure people are at their feet and feeling the best he can get them.

-> Porter owns a ridiculous amount of sunglasses. I don’t even know how to elaborate on this. Mr. Dimples + His non-polarized shades.

-> On the topic of dimples, has anyone pointed out how Asher’s icon has a dimple on the right side (technically his left) ? YEAH!! Asher and his left-dimple

-> Guy has/had a longer mullet with a middle part. Simply because he hadn’t gotten a haircut in so long. Also—Honey does his hair. These two and their lil’ intimate money saving habits.

-> Sweetheart and Milo have insane Gaydars. They’ll know that you’re LGBTQIA+ before you do. You are not safe. Run.

-> Seer Obscura will laugh at anything and everything. Funny, awkward, embarrassing—They just laugh. Covering their mouth with their hands and chuckling.

[crxzytogether]

Lol I wanna address this even tho nobody asked because I’m mad. Like ship whoever you want as yk this person said but leave it out of our tag-💀 my problems more with the fact that they tagged byler for this post than what they said but yk since they tagged us might as well respond.

Firstly, “ideas planted by your community”? Huh? Girl what- you mean our evidence? You mean our analysis and perceptions and ability to interpret what we’re watching beyond surface level? And honestly after season 4 even surface level melodramas not looking too good- Secondly, what harsh truths were brought up? The lies? Your perception of montauk? which idk sounds a lot like mike and wills relationship to me but to each their own… “they’ve been together since pretty much day one”, “they have a deep connection”, “four seasons of character development”?? Do I even need to explain? Who’s been together since day one? Right mike and will, in the beginning of episode 1 before any of the upside down shit even happens we’re shown that their relationship is different from their relationship with the other party members. A fact that’s proven time and time again throughout season 1 where we see how much more Mike is affected by Will’s disappearance(not tryna negate everybody else’s feelings or reactions but it’s clear that we’re supposed to notice Mike cares slightly more or in a different way). As for the deep connections? Season 2 shed scene ring a bell, the first one of Mike’s monologue that’s an attempt to help someone he cares about that actually works and is completely honest, deep connection boom. And that connections emphasized again in s4 with Will being able to encourage Mike and make him feel better and we already know why it’s special on Will’s side and their whole plot-line that season. Next, “four seasons of character development” im sorry what?, season 1 and season 3 maybe are the only seasons I’d consider they had that meanwhile season 4 I’d say they had character regression because tell me how Mike goes from being able to comfort El about her feeling like she’s a monster but then does a 180 not only unable to comfort her but also make her feel worse-(I’m talking about she didn’t look fine in case you didn’t catch that). Back to s1/s3, s1 where they were friends for the most part is the healthiest their relationship has ever been the entire show- like😭😭it literally just goes downhill from there. Season 2/season 3 their codependency I’m- and season 4 El feeling like she has to lie to Mike about her life and Mike unable to comfort her and also hiding his own interests from her. Like sure the bullying thing I get why she’d hide that maybe not really but El lies about so many things😭😭 she feels like she has to lie to keep up the relationship. THAT 👏 IS 👏 NOT 👏 HEALTHY 👏. Like maybe after they’ve both grown separately I’d consider it but as of now? No sir. Also let me remind you how El confronted Angela and asked her to help El keep up the pretence- SHE STILL DIDN’T FEEL SAFE OR COMFORTABLE ENOUGH TELL MIKE THE TRUTH. That’s not healthy for either of them. My byler agenda aside I still don’t think Mike and El should be together. Lastly, “the fact that Mileven IS endgame”, again I’m sorry what? Have you watched season 5? Have you read the scripts or been on set or talked to anybody working on st5 or work on st5 yourself? No? So then how is that a fact- it’s a prediction, an assumption but it’s not a fact. If after season 5 comes out and it did end up becoming true then you could use that phrase but as of now when you have no idea how season 5 is gonna go you can’t call that a fact. Also rip how are you so confident when Mike and Will are literally attached at the hip so far from what we have seen besides the rooftop convo and if that is enough to convince you then yikes- bc we’ve got like 10 of those to convince us so good luck watching season 5 and have a good day ig

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

Are you reading any books right now? And do you have a favorite book? Any recs?

I am no literary genius and truly, the Sarah J. Maas books mean everything to me. I have read the ACOTAR series five times now and the feeling it gives me cannot be attained by any other book.

That being said, today I finished a book: The Serpent and the Wings of Night by Carissa Broadbent. This book was fantastic. It is fantasy, quick, action-packed, smutty and has a great plot with good twists!

I also just finished This Is War by Kennedy Fox. Just smut and truly a guilty pleasure, but not that good to be entirely honest. I started on Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi, but haven't gotten to conintuing to read it yet because the largeness of the sries is intimidating to me. I am very, very excited to start on the Jade Legacy series by Fonda Lee.

Books I really recommend are:

Mythos by Stephen Fry

Human Kind: A Hopeful History by Rutger Bregman

It Ends With Us by Colleen Hoover

This is Going to Hurt by Adam Kay

[moeblob]

AU where Brent is a drone to help out at crime scenes and offer input after Right finds the drone. And basically he befriends the really weird guy possibly controlling the drone but has his doubts as to how human the drone's source can be. So Right and Brent just go around trying to solve crimes while Right just calls the drone "Fuckwad (affectionate)".

[puppyeared]

you seem like the. kind of person who I'd run into during a rock concert while I'm trying to find bathroom and notably you are dressed kind of oddly for the concert (see: divorced dad outfit. hawaiian shirt. jorts. chunky sandles. giant sun hat.) and so I ask you "hello, do you know where I can find the bathroom?" and you go "yeah sure!!" and you point me the complete opposite direction from the bathroom. not on purpose, but because you also have no idea where the bathroom is. I thank you and go on my way, both of us oblivious to the fact we are currently very much not at a rock concert. it's an idie band that just screams really loud. sorry if that's specific you just give me giant 'perpetual tourist that isn't really a tourist and has never left their home city but just seems like a tourist anyways' energy

naw thats a pretty reasonable impression id say

[faaun]

i feel rly sad and conflicted abt one of my best friends on earth but idk who to ask for advice bc i usually would have consulted her in this situation lmao

[chiimeramanticore]

[soracities]

Why are you inclined to wait for the hype to die down before listening to the album? just curious, no need to answer:-)

honestly it's just a v distinct feature of my brain in that for god knows WHAT reason i just do not get w things at their peak (if i do at all). i've been like this since i was like 8 so i think its partly just preferring to do things at my pace rather than because everyone else is (also i feel like people get weird w hozier online and i want to be away from that). but also if i'm partaking in / discussing something i much prefer to do it intimately so before anything else i will absolutely be flooding @agapebynicholasbritell and @dearorpheus DMS when i finally listen to it 💗

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss her…

[quietwingsinthesky]

(For the game) I think the doctor should have more diverse companions. Give them more non human alien companions! Give them a companion is who fundamentally bad, who they have realize they can’t fix

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

yeah!!!!! oh and can i add to that! one thing i'd love to see? just like. a companion who is religious. in a way that is taken account into in the narrative and that is like. discussed? you know, how does going on time travel universe hopping adventures effect one's religious ideas. that would be fascinating to me. i think we've gotten like blanket statement things about future humans adjusting their religious beliefs or whatever but that's not what im interested in exactly. i want like. what does it do, to a modern human with modern religious ideas, to have to adjust that to aliens and shit. and how does their way of incorporating this life with the doctor reflect their character!

i think that'd be fascinating!!! and someone definitely smarter than me out there could probably write an incredible buddhist companion for the doctor and draw on the obvious cultural influences borrowed about cycles of reincarnation in constructing the doctor's whole regeneration thing to discuss shit. maybe one day. i'd love to see it.

[biblicalhorror]

My relationship with my mom has come such a long way in the past few years only to come crashing down the second I try to do something nice for my dad and/or acknowledge that she is not the main character of the universe ://

[dearreader]

if i see one more person quote the 2019 article where taylor says she doesn’t go to therapy as her fairly recently saying it ill scream cause it was five years ago and also before the pandemic where everyone started getting therapists

[sybbi]

Jewish people in the diaspora: Hey I believe Palestinians should have self-determination and rights that have for too long been denied to them and I believe the architects of Israel's response have gone too far and slaughtered and displaced innocents and the human cost of this "self defense" is too great and something needs to be done to stop this before it's too late, Palestinians deserve their place in the Levant and the ability to self-govern, but hey it's also kind of concerning that some of you will ignore when actual dangerous antisemitism is being displayed and spread and I'd just really appreciate if you also would watch out for people like that in the pro-Palestine movement and call people like that out, thank you

You freaks:

[vvitchy-succubus]

.