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#southern charms series
harrywavycurly · 3 months
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Okay so seeing that we are going down a rabbit hole with One Direction/ Harry youtube videos I feel it's time our favourite Southern Girl stumbles upon Harry's Coachella set with Shania Twain 😁😁 #southerncomfort ❤️
Hiii babes!! I agree, I think it’s time we get to see how she handles Harry singing with Shania, enjoy 💖
-find all things Southern Comfort here✨
A/N: This is set a little in the future because Harry is comfortable using a key to get in your house✨
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Harry fumbles around with the set of keys in his right hand as he tries to keep the to go cup of coffee in his other hand from spilling. When he finally gets your front door open he smiles as soon as he hears the faint sound of music coming from your kitchen instantly letting him know where he’ll find you. He is quick with discarding his shoes and leaving them neatly by the door, a rule that he remembers you bringing up during one of your first conversations with him so he can head for the kitchen.
“Good morning sweetheart.” You smile as you turn around at the sound of his voice, you watch him place his keys on the counter along with the coffee cup. “It’s a bit early for cake isn’t it?” He asks with a raise of his brow when he catches a glance of a half frosted cake behind you as he takes a step towards you.
“If that’s how you feel honey you don’t have to eat any.” Your answer is teasing just as he suspected it would be making him chuckle as he opens his arms so you can greet him with your usual hug that consists of your arms tightly wrapped around his middle and his around your shoulders. It’s then that Harry hears what you’re listening to as his chin rests on top of your head, his eyes scan your kitchen until they land on your laptop you have opened and tucked into the corner near your stand mixer.
“So you’ve moved on from music videos huh?” You feel Harry give you a little squeeze before he releases his hold on you. You drop your arms from around him so you can turn and walk back over to your cake, you take a quick glance at your laptop and smile at the screen that’s showing concert footage of One Direction singing Teenage Dirtbag.
“I have and you’ll never guess what I watched this morning honeybuns.” Harry doesn’t know if he likes the tone of your voice as you go back to spreading frosting over the cake in front of you. You seem relaxed as he watches you tilt your head to the side to make sure your frosting job is even but he can’t be too sure because you like to leave him guessing and honestly your question leaves him with numerous possibilities as answers.
“May I get a hint?” He hears you let out a breathy laugh at his question making him smile as he takes a step towards the cabinet you keep your coffee mugs in.
“It was one of your performances.” He just nods as he reaches up and opens the cabinet so he can grab a mug off the shelf. He smiles as he looks down at it and notices it’s shaped like a sunflower.
“Okay can I ask for one more hint? What was I wearing or-”
“You weren’t alone in this performance.” Harry feels his heartbeat quicken as he takes the top off the to go cup of coffee after he places the mug on the counter.
“Oh uh okay.” He does his best to control his nerves but he’s done for the moment you place your spatula down before you turn around and cross your arms over your chest as you stare at him. The way you look at him lets him know exactly which performance you watched and he honestly doesn’t know what to say because he doesn’t exactly know if you’re upset or not.
“Shania Twain?” Your voice isn’t full of anger and that makes Harry let out a small sigh of relief, instead you seem more intrigued as you take a take a small step towards him dropping your hands to your hips.
“I was going to tell you but I just didn’t know how.” He’s not lying, he wanted to tell you the moment he found out you were obsessed with country music but he just wasn’t sure how to bring it up without it being weird. You just nod and move closer to him as you watch him pour the coffee from the to go cup into the mug.
“Y’all sounded lovely together sugar plum.” Harry just smiles and feels his cheeks get hot as he hands you the mug full of coffee. “Now tell me everything.” You grin at him as you take a seat on one of your barstools, you watch Harry glance behind you at the cake now fully frosted siting on the counter.
“What kind of cake is that?” He asks as you take a sip of your coffee from your mug that just so happens to be shaped like one of your favorite flowers.
“You’ll find out when you’re done telling me about Shania.” Harry just huffs but accepts your deal as he takes a seat on the barstool next to you. The two of you spend the next half hour in your kitchen while Harry goes into detail about his performance with her and he lets you ask all the questions you want and eventually he learns that the cake is one of his favorites, carrot cake.
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pix-writes · 5 months
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I'm thinking of writing something for pre-war! Cooper Howard - where the reader is one of Janey's teachers. Anyone interested?
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blueysbookshelf · 26 days
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A Rebel Without Claws by Juliette Cross
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This is an ARC review of a book that won't be released until 2025. Proceed with reading my review at your own risk...you've been warned.
This was not up to par with what I'm used to from this author. The characters were very two dimensional and kind of flat. It was very "insta-lust" which I'm guessing is supposed to be explained away by the fact that they're mates, but there was very little chemistry between them to get us to that point. She walked in the door, he smelled her, and bing, bang, boom, MATES. I did enjoy Ronan's struggle with his past, but his insistence that he was okay without his wolf was weird and never really fleshed out, nor was his comfortability with his wolf once he made his appearance. What was that like for him? Did he keep shifting? Did he enjoy the shifting? Did he come to look forward to it? Did it change his personality at all? How does he manage his wolf now? Does it make it harder for him in the cage? These are all questions that could be answered in future books but I'd have rather had at least a few of them in this one. Celine was not at all interesting. Her past experience was sad but it felt very glossed over. We heard more about how her parents and brothers reacted to it than we did about how she felt about it aside from her reluctance to give Ronan access to her location on the Life365 app. All in all, I was hoping for more. But I'm also aware that this may be a rough draft and the things I was missing may be added/adjusted once ARC feedback is received. I'll still read the next book, hoping that it progresses the story a bit better but I'm oddly disappointed with this one and I didn't want to be.
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protagonistspub · 1 year
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A Match in the Making by Jen Turano
A Match in the Making by Jen Turano was an advanced reader’s copy from NetGalley. It is Christian romance and is the first in the Matchmakers series. It was published by Bethany House on 21 February 2023. Jen Turano was a new to me author. Needing a respite from her paid companionship to her cousin, Gwendolyn Brinley accepts the position of a temporary companion for the summer season in Newport,…
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reidmarieprentiss · 2 months
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masterlist ♡
my requests are open! i'm comfortable writing for any sexuality, gender, and/or specified reader preference! my basic model is a fem!reader x male!character because that is how i myself identify and who i am attracted to -- so if you want something else just lmk!! <33
click here for my taglist :)
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꩜ -- angst ♡ -- fluff ꕥ -- smut
Spencer Reid
Series
★ Bridges to Belonging ꩜ ♡ ꕥ— Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six (18+) Part Seven (18+)
★ Finding Home Again ꩜ ♡ ꕥ— Part One Part Two (18+)
-- -- -- Extras -- Jeans ♡ ꕥ Migraines ꩜ ♡ Bar ♡ Stood Up ꩜
★ i love you ꩜ ♡ ꕥ— Part One Part Two
★ Short Shorts & Long Hair ꩜ ♡— Part One Part Two
★ Too Sweet ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Part One Part Two Part Three
★ Make You Feel My Love ꩜ — Part One Part Two Part Three
★ Something Better ꩜ — Part One Part Two
★ Breaking Point ꩜ ♡ — Part One Part Two
★ Too Damn Young ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Part One Part Two
★ Red ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Part One Part Two
One Shots
Whispers in the Dark ꩜ ♡ ꕥ
Set 'Em Up, and Knock 'Em Down ꩜ ꕥ
Needy ♡ ꕥ
Capturing the Queen ♡ ꕥ
Sweet & Sour Motivation ꩜ ♡ ꕥ
Moving Forward ꩜ ♡
Love in the Club ♡ ꕥ
Lost & Found ꩜ ♡
Strawberry Lemonade ♡
Not Her ꩜ ♡
Ghost of You ꩜ ♡ ꕥ
Textual Tension ♡ ꕥ
Hookups & Holdouts ꩜ ♡
Better Late Than Never ♡
Illicit Affairs ꩜ ♡
No More Misunderstandings ♡
Forever & Always ꩜ ♡ ꕥ
Blurbs
Silent Echos ꩜
Second Chances and Serendipity ♡
Ink Impressions ♡
Love in the Details ♡
The Hardest Goodbye ꩜
Ride 'Em Cowgirl ♡
Home in Jeans ♡ ꕥ
Car Wash ♡
They Were Never You ꩜ ♡
Rewritten Plans ꩜ ♡
Dare Ya ♡
Cream Cardigan ♡
Picture You ♡
Tummy ꩜ ♡
Home with Migraines ꩜ ♡
Matchmaker ♡
Always You ꩜ ♡
Home From The Bar ♡
Bedroom Eyes ♡
Federal Beach Investigation ♡
Stood Up & Home ꩜
Good Boy ꕥ
Asks
A Gentle Embrace ♡
Southern Charm ♡
Cinephile ♡
Where We Were Meant To Be ꩜ ♡
Love Doctor ♡
Not Strong Enough ꩜ ♡
Birthday Surprise ♡ ꕥ
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honeyedmiller · 2 months
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A Burning Desire part four
firefighter!joel miller x f!reader
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series masterlist | main masterlist
rating: 18+, minors dni
warnings: joel miller au, reader's family members finally get names in this, a whole lotta tooth-rotting fluff, sexual innuendos, sexual tension, your (fictional) brothers are a pain in the ass, reader has a nickname given by the brothers, smut (unprotected piv, f!oral receiving, fingering, body praise, quick handjob), no use of y/n.
word count: 9.2k (i'm so sorry)
a/n: sorry it took forever. life has been so hectic after graduating. thank you for sticking around <3
synopsis: you and joel take a road trip to san antonio for your sister’s wedding, and with feelings at an all-time high, you find it nearly impossible to resist each other.
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“So what time are you and Joel leaving tomorrow?” Your sister asks on the other end of the line. 
Tomorrow was the rehearsal dinner for her wedding, and you had to drive out to San Antonio. Joel promised you countless times that he was more than happy to accompany you to the wedding, even though you warned him countless times about your family. 
“Probably around ten. He’s spending the night tonight so we can just get ready and leave in the morning.” You’re folding the last of your clothes to pack, phone tucked between your shoulder and ear as you mentally double check that you have everything you need in your suitcase. 
“Okay, good. Mom’s kind of upset that she hasn’t met this ‘mystery man’ as she calls it. She’s been dying to know all the details.” 
You roll your eyes and sigh, already knowing this weekend was going to be absolutely exhausting dealing with everyone. 
“She’ll literally meet him tomorrow. I kept our relationship at bay because of how she gets. Not to mention Andrew and Cole, and god knows what they’ll say to Joel tomorrow.” 
Your sister laughs, “That’s true. Can’t imagine they won’t harass him about treating you right. I’ll make sure to keep them in check.” 
“Em, you know they will. They hovered when Christian and I broke up.” 
“I know. But Joel’s a good man. The whole family will love him.” 
“I really hope you’re right.” 
“Always am. Call it big sister’s intuition.” 
“Funny.” You scoff with a smile, closing your suitcase. 
“I know. Hey, Josh and I have to talk to the wedding planner about a few last minute details. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She says. 
“See you tomorrow, Em. Love you.” 
“Love you too!” 
The line goes dead and you sigh, tossing your phone onto your bed. You were trying to mentally prepare yourself for the hellfire you were going to receive after keeping Joel a secret for awhile. You looked at your bedside table and the alarm clock on top of it, red numbers blinking at you to remind you you still had a few more hours until Joel would be coming over. 
Nerves settled in about him meeting your family, but nobody could resist Joel and his Southern charm. You couldn’t help but fantasize that your whole family loved him, welcoming him in with open arms. God, you hope that was the case. 
-
You killed time by cooking some dinner and watching some more of The Bachelor, feeding into the drama of the show. You were so invested that you almost didn’t hear the knock on your door. 
The feeling of giddiness took over your body as you opened the door, revealing your boyfriend. He had a small smile on his face, but his eyes were tired. 
“Hey baby,” You say, stepping to the side for him, “C’mon in. I made us some dinner. Figured you could eat after your shift.” 
Joel groans in appreciation. “Thank you darlin’.” He sets his bag down and closes your door, locking it before wrapping his arms around you. He buried his face into your neck, breathing in your scent for a minute. 
You could sense something was wrong, but you didn’t want to push him about it. Maybe a little shove wouldn’t hurt, though.
You run your fingers through his soft curls before turning your head to the side to kiss his neck, separating yourself from him for a brief moment. 
“You okay?” Worry was evident in your voice, and he couldn’t help but melt at the concern written all over your face as you took his in between your hands. 
He nodded, but you weren’t convinced. You could see it in his eyes, sensing that he was holding something back. 
“You can talk to me, you know. If you’d like. I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready, though.” You take his hand and lead him to the couch, coaxing him to sit down. You climbed behind him, sitting down to slot your thighs on either side of his. 
You start to rub his back, slowly putting pressure on any knots that you’d found. You kiss him between his shoulder blades, silence consuming the both of you for a good few minutes before you hear his faint whisper. 
“Rough shift. Had a call that didn’t go so well. Kinda shook up the whole firehouse.” 
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” You wrap your arms around his torso, resting your cheek on his back. His hands cover yours and swipe his thumbs over you. 
You hear him sniffle and your head shoots up, attempting to turn his head toward you. He resists at first, but eventually melts into your soft touch and turns his face toward yours as you slightly lean over his broad frame. 
“It’s okay, Joel. You never have to hide how you’re feeling from me. If you need to cry about it, that’s fine. I’ll never think you’re less of a man for showing your emotions.” 
He offers you a small smile before leaning in to kiss your forehead, softly knocking his against yours as he sighs. 
“I’ve been so used to suppressin’ rough calls for years. Nobody to turn to except my coworkers n’ Tommy, and even then it’s not somethin’ we all collectively talk about. My ex,” He huffs an angry laugh at the mention of her, “Sarah’s mom. She– she always told me that cryin’ about how tough my job can be sometimes isn’t somethin’ a real man does. No man should cry over a job. So I just pretended. I pretended that the job didn’t affect me anymore, that I was fine every time I came home. I pretended to be okay when in reality I jus’ wanted to fuckin’ scream and cry.” He turns his head to the side again as more tears silently cascade down his beautiful face. 
“Hey, look at me,” Your voice is soft, as if you’re trying not to scare an already frightened animal. “I can promise you that you never have to pretend with me.” You wipe his tears with your thumb, kissing his cheek softly as you continue to gently rub his back. 
“Y’don’t know how much that means to me, darlin’. It’s not easy carryin’ the weight of this job on my shoulders alone. I don’t want to burden you with any of it–”
“Hey, none of that alright? You’re not burdening me. I can’t even imagine the terrible things you’ve seen and endured while on the job. I swear to you that I’m here to listen. Or just be a shoulder to lay on. We don’t even need to talk if you don’t want to, but just know that option is always there.” 
He turns his head to kiss your temple, squeezing his eyes shut before leaning his head back onto your shoulder. 
The “L” word rolled around in your mind for a split second. A month and a half ago, it would’ve scared you. But now, being here with Joel, it just seemed so normal and comfortable. He may have felt the same too, you think. Maybe it was too early to tell. 
-
You wish it was a morning where you and Joel could laze around and relax. Waking up beside him gave you a sense of comfort you hadn’t experienced in so long. You secretly study his face as he sleeps: tan skin glowing from the morning sunlight, eyelashes fanned over his cheeks, messy curls resting haphazardly over his forehead, and plump lips parted as he emits soft snores. 
He’s so handsome. 
You couldn’t help but bring your hand out to trace his face with your fingertips, leaning forward to gently kiss his cheek. 
His eyebrows scrunch together as he slowly begins to wake from his slumber, hands shooting up to rub over his face. His eyes find yours when he drops his hands from his face, a grin curling onto his lips. 
“Mornin’ baby.” His voice was deep and raspy, still full of sleep. It made something stir deep down inside of you. 
“Morning, handsome.” You kiss the tip of his nose before sitting up to get out of bed, but Joel pulls you back by your wrist and maneuvers you so you’re laying on top of him. 
You laugh as he wraps his arms around you securely, making sure you can’t move an inch or wiggle away. 
“We gotta get up and get going, Joel.” 
He groans loudly, the sound vibrating his whole body and yours. “Five more minutes.” His muffled voice says from underneath you. 
“Uh uh, cowboy. C’mon, I’ll make you a thermos of coffee.” You tap his stomach twice before he releases you to stand on your feet. You make your way into the kitchen, fighting the urge to look back at Joel, because you knew you’d give him more than five minutes if you did. 
You start up the coffee pot and lean against the counter, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Joel emerges in the kitchen shortly after, leaning against the wall as he admires you in your sleepy state. 
“What?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow up at him. 
“Nothin’ baby.” He smiles before coming into the kitchen, lifting you up on the counter and slotting himself between your legs. 
“Mmmhm.” You say, putting your hands on his warm chest. You feel his heartbeat beneath your fingertips and notice it’s slightly elevated, which you can’t help but smile at. 
Joel leans in to you and kisses your neck, and you can’t help but loll your head to the side to give him better access. His lips graze over your pulse point and you instinctively grip onto his biceps, trying your hardest to suppress a moan. 
“Joel—” 
“Hm? What is it, pretty girl?” 
“If you keep doing that, we’re never—fuck— never gonna leave in time.” He pokes his tongue out and drags it down your jugular, kissing the base of your neck before lightly nibbling on your soft flesh. 
“Doin’ what, baby?” He teases, smirking against you. 
“You know what, cowboy,” And before he could retort, the coffee maker beeps to indicate Joel’s coffee was done. “Saved by the bell.” You mumble, gently separating yourself from Joel. His honey brown gaze bores into yours as he chuckles at your flustered state before sliding his phone out of his pocket. 
He types in the address to the hotel the wedding party was staying at. Joel meticulously calculates the stops you may need to make along the way before looking at you again. 
 “Should take us about an hour and a half to get there. Two hours if there’s heavy traffic.” 
“It’s not too late to back out, you know.” 
“‘N why would I do that, darlin’?” 
“To save yourself from the chaos that the weekend will bring. I can tell my family you had to work instead. Nobody can get mad at a firefighter for working.” 
Joel tosses his head back as he gutturally laughs, shoulders shaking. The whole thing was a little ridiculous, but you know how your family is, and you were ultimately just looking out for him. 
His gaze meets yours, a glint of adoration in his eyes as he leans forward. You can’t help the stupid grin that curls onto your lips as he gently nudges your body closer to his, finally slotting his lips with yours. 
You’ll never get tired of those butterflies that rumble rambunctiously in your tummy every time you kiss him. 
He leans back a little, and with his irresistible charm, winks at you before he huffs another small laugh. “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.” 
You hop off the counter and pat his abdomen adoringly before flashing him a grin. “Well then, cowboy, let's get to it.”
-
The drive wasn’t as bad as you’d thought it would be, pulling up to the hotel around one in the afternoon. Joel unloads your luggage from the bed of his truck and you wrap your arm around his bicep, walking toward the lobby after he locks up. It was a fancy hotel located right next to the Riverwalk with a huge ballroom for the reception. You had to hand it to your sister and Josh; this place was absolutely beautiful. 
You walked up to the reception desk with Joel in tow, and the spunky brunette smiled as you approached her. 
“Hi, we’re here for the Martinez wedding.” 
“First name?” The receptionist asks, typing something into her computer. You give her your first name and she pulls two keys out of a cardholder, handing it over to you. 
“Ah, sister of the bride! How exciting. You two will be on the seventh floor, third room on the right after you get out of the elevator. Enjoy your stay.” 
“Thank you so much.” You say, taking the card keys from her before you step away from the desk. You and Joel were heading towards the elevator when you heard a familiar voice call your name, and you turned around to see your brothers. 
Panic overtook your body for a few seconds, glancing at Joel who gave you a small smile. How was he always so calm? 
“Thought you could sneak past us without saying hi?” Cole says with a shit-eating grin, eyeing Joel as he comes up to you to give you a hug. 
“You ain’t slick, Shadow.” Andrew says, hugging you after Cole. 
“God, Andy, seriously? That nickname?”
”What, you afraid we’re gonna embarrass you in front of your boyfriend that you’ve been hiding from us?” Cole jerks his head toward Joel, who shifts on his weight as he lets go of his suitcase. 
“Shut up, Cole,” You roll your eyes, huffing a laugh. “Joel, these are my idiot brothers Andrew and Cole. Andy, Cole, this is my boyfriend Joel.” You introduce them, and Joel puts on his best smile before extending his hand. 
“Nice to meet you both.” He says, and it’s comical how both of your brothers try to come off as intimidating toward Joel. Joel keeps a calm demeanor anyhow; his steady, charming smile never wavering. 
“Uh huh. Nice to meet you too. Hey, let us buy you a drink, yeah?” Andrew says, jerking his head toward the bar located at the far end of the lobby. Joel glances at you as you give him a tight-lipped smile, wrapping your hand around his bicep once more. You turn back to your brothers before sighing. 
“Let us put our bags up in our room first before I let you harass him. Jesus.” You half-joke, and Cole claps Joel on the shoulder. 
“What makes you think we’re gonna harass him, Shadow? We’re just looking out for ya.” 
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Now please let go of his shoulder.” You roll your eyes and tug on Joel’s arm gently, coaxing him to follow you to the elevators. 
“Fine. See you down here in a few.” 
You wave your brothers off before getting into the elevator, hitting the seventh floor button. 
“Jesus, Joel, I’m so sorry. Thought we’d get a chance to fucking breathe before my brothers started literally harassing you.” 
He laughs and shakes his head, giving your temple a kiss. “Ain’t nothin’ to worry about, baby. They’re just bein’ protective. I get it.” 
“Just… take anything they might say with a grain of salt.” 
He chuckles and nods as the elevator dings and the door opens to the seventh floor. You stop in front of your room and open the door, gasping at how beautiful it is. The king bed in the middle looks absolutely heavenly, and your mind can’t help the  image flashing in your mind of you and Joel getting tangled in those very sheets. Heat rushes to your face at the thought, and you walk over to the window to distract yourself. The gleaming summer sun reflects on the calm waters below at the Riverwalk, giving it a mesmerizing gleam. 
Joel wraps his arms around your waist from behind and kisses your shoulder. “Beautiful,” He murmurs, but unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t talking about the water below. 
“We should go back down so my brothers don’t give you more shit than you’re probably going to get.” You grimace at the thought of what they’re going to say to him. 
Joel chuckles and playfully shakes you before loosening his grasp on your midsection. 
“Just promise me you won’t run for the hills if they get to be too much. I’ll put them in their place.” You offer, and Joel kisses your forehead. 
“I’d only run if you were right by my side, baby.” 
-
Joel didn’t know what to expect from your brothers. He could feel the nerves buzzing off of you as you both made your way back to the elevator to go down to the lobby again, and he wanted nothing more than to ease your erratic nerves. 
He knew from the very beginning that he’d be in the long haul of things with you, so he knew facing your family at some point was going to happen. Absolutely nothing your brothers say or do will make him ‘run for the hills’, as you’d put it. 
Joel thought the look you tossed his way when the elevator doors opened to the lobby was adorable. He could tell that you wanted this to go well, and who was he to let you down? 
Joel gave your hand a squeeze as you both made your way up to your brothers again. 
“Joel, how ‘bout that drink.” Andrew says, head jerking toward the bar on the opposite end of the lobby. 
“Sure.” He says, trying to keep his cool. He wondered briefly if this was the slight fear you might’ve felt when you met Sarah. 
“I’m gonna go find mom and Em.” You say, giving Joel a kiss on the cheek. He watches you walk out before your brothers tug him along to the bar area, ordering a round of Lone Star. 
“So I’m a real cut-to-the-chase type guy,” Andrew starts, settling into the barstool next to Joel. Joel nods and sits up straight before taking a swig of his beer to ease his nerves. “I’m sure you’re aware of our sister’s past relationship. Who’s to say you won’t hurt her like that asshole did?” 
Joel was taken aback at Andrew’s bluntness, but his expression never wavered or gave anything away. “I know what it’s like to be hurt in a way that ya can’t ever forget about. The mother of my child left when my baby girl was only a year old. Said she couldn’t handle bein’ a parent n’ left me to fend for myself. Bein’ hurt like that,” Joel shakes his head and looks down, “It ain’t right. I would never want anyone to feel the way I felt when she walked out the door. I know your sister’s situation is a bit different, but my feelings toward it are all the same. I like your sister a whole lot n’ the last thing on God’s green Earth I’d ever wanna do is hurt ‘er.” 
Andrew nods, weighing Joel’s answer in his head. Joel was telling the truth. He’d never want to hurt you. You deserve to be happy, and he knows you can do that completely on your own, but he loves to be the reason behind it. He loves seeing you smile knowing he’s the reason it’s there in the first place. 
“What do you do for work?” Cole changed the subject, and Joel shifts his gaze to the younger brother. 
“I’m a firefighter for the city of Austin.” 
“I’ll be damned. Shadow always said she loved a man in uniform,” Cole teased, and the three men chuckled in unison. 
“How come y’all call her Shadow? She’s never told me anythin’ about that story.” Joel says, and the brothers can’t help but smile at the opportunity to tease their little sister.
“She was afraid of her shadow when she was younger, maybe around like two or three years old. We’d always tease her about it and the nickname just stuck.” 
“‘S actually really funny.” Joel said, thinking about how he’d be able to tease you later on with the newfound information. 
“So how did you meet our sister? She hasn’t told us a damn thing about you.” Cole grimaces, taking a sip of his beer. 
“I met her at a local coffee shop near her apartment. She actually made the first move,” Joel recalls, and he can’t help but smile at the memory. “She paid for my coffee.” 
“That’s pretty out of character for her. She’s usually pretty shy.” Andrew said. 
“Believe me, I was surprised. She was so sweet… after I caught her checkin’ me out. I was in uniform.” Joel laughs, and the brothers join in with him. 
“Told ya she loves a man in uniform.” Cole nudges Joel. 
“You said you’re a firefighter,” Andrew repeats aloud, wheels turning in his head. “Shit, the accident,” He says, looking at Joel. Joel nods, not quite sure where he was going with this. 
“Wasn’t pretty. Got the call and I saw her car—”
“Wait, so you were on the scene? You’re telling me you’re the one who got our sister out of her car?” Andrew was bewildered, blinking rapidly in complete disbelief. 
Joel furrowed his brows and looked down at his knotted hands, reliving that moment in his head. 
“Yeah. I’d only known her for hours at that point, but all I knew was that I needed to get her out of there. Scared the hell outta me.” 
“Unbelievable. Can’t believe she left out that huge detail,” Cole chuckles and shakes his head, but looks up at Joel in all seriousness. “Thank you for saving her.” 
Joel gives them both a soft smile. “I’d save her all over again in a heartbeat.” 
“You’re a damn hero, man. To our sister and to Austin.” 
Joel never knew how to accept compliments that well, let alone the hero compliments. He just saw it as doing his job and getting to help those in need. 
“Well, cheers to you. We can both tell you’re an honest man and anyone who’s willing to literally—and figuratively, I guess—save our sister is a man who has our utmost respect.” Andrew says, holding his beer bottle up in the air. 
Cole raised his bottle and Joel followed suit, an echo of ‘cheers’ being thrown around. Joel’s nerves dissolved like cotton candy in water, relief flooding through his bones that your brothers approved of him. He knew meeting your dad was going to be an even bigger deal, so he was holding onto hope that it would go just as well. 
-
“So when am I meeting this Joel of yours?” Your mom says, perching her glasses on the bridge of her nose as she took a sip of her margarita. You found her and Emily poolside as they sipped their drinks while talking about last minute wedding details. 
“He’s at the bar in the lobby getting harassed by Andy and Cole.” You roll your eyes, and Emily laughs. 
“He’s a good man. I’m sure they’re all buddy-buddy now. Men are simple when it comes to meeting new people.” Emily waves her hand dismissively, easing your nerves a little. 
“Where’s dad?” You ask, looking between Emily and your mom. 
Your mom scoffs, “He’s upstairs taking a nap. Told him he wouldn’t be tired tonight but he seemed to think otherwise.” 
“He’s probably overwhelmed with all the wedding stuff.” You offer with a shrug, and your mom huffs. 
“He isn’t the one planning the damn thing.” 
“There you guys are!” Cole calls out to you three, Andrew and Joel in tow. Your eyes lock on Joel’s gaze and you’re relieved to see he made it out of the interrogation unscathed. 
He makes his way over to you, leaning down to give you a chaste kiss. 
“So you must be Joel.” Your mom says, eyes alight at the exchange you and Joel had. 
“I am. It’s so great to meet you, Mrs.—”
Your mom waves her hand to dismiss his formalities. “Oh, none of that. Just call me Alexandria. It’s nice to finally meet the man who’s been making my youngest daughter so happy.” She grins up at him, and it was easy to clock the blush that spreads over his tan cheeks. 
“I can argue that she makes me the happiest I’ve ever been.” He looks down at you and shoots you a wink, and you can’t help but roll your eyes playfully. 
“Touché, Miller.” You say, warmth filling your body as he wraps his arm around your waist. 
Everyone got into chatting about the rehearsal dinner and the bar of choice afterwards, scampering off to their respective rooms. 
It only took a couple of hours for everyone to get ready and head down to the lobby, being shuffled into the courtyard by hotel staff. Sage green and cream decorations adorned the spacious place with rows of chairs neatly lined up for the big day tomorrow. The gazebo at the end of the walkway was strewn with fairy lights that gave a soft glow that added to to romantic ambience. 
For a split second, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what your future wedding would look like… with Joel. You may have been presumptuous in thinking such a thing, but you truly felt deep down that this was the man you were meant to marry. 
The wedding coordinator lined all of the bridesmaids and groomsmen up, and you took your respectable place next to Karina who was your sister’s best friend and maid of honor. 
After two full run-throughs of the ceremony and placement adjustments, the wedding coordinator took everyone to the ballroom where the reception was being held.
It wasn’t long before everyone finished their dinners, polite conversation being held as the night went on. 
“So you’re the Joel everyone’s been buzzing about.” Your dad says, and you give him a stern look to say go easy on him. Not that Joel couldn’t handle himself, but because your dad could get a little out of hand at times. 
“Yes sir, that’s me.” He says, grabbing your hand underneath the table to give it a squeeze. 
“I hear you’re a firefighter. Good man.” Your dad nods in approval, and proceeds to ask Joel about some calls he’s gotten in the past. Everyone at the table was listening intently to him, curious as to what life as a firefighter is really like. 
Your gaze roams to your mom, who’s already looking between you and Joel with a sparkle in her eye you’d never seen before. She gives you a wink and sips her wine, turning her attention back to Joel. 
It seems his Southern charm and calm demeanor had won every single one of your family members over, and relief floods through your body at that. That’s all you wanted, and you couldn’t have been happier to see it become a reality. 
-
After dinner, Josh and Emily told everyone that they weren’t having a ‘traditional’ bachelor and bachelorette party. Instead, they wanted to go to a bar together and have a few drinks with everyone as one last celebration before they both say I do. 
It wasn’t surprising to you. Your sister had always been the homebody type and Josh was right there with her. You thought it was romantic in a sense, knowing that they really didn’t need anything big or to spend time apart before their big day. 
The bar was a few buildings down from the hotel, with a huge dance floor in the middle and patrons singing along to the mix of music that was playing as they drank. 
Your dad ordered a round of shots for everybody, making a toast to Josh and Emily. 
“To the bride and groom to be.” Your dad says, and everyone clinks their glasses together before throwing back their liquor. 
You shudder at the taste, setting the cup down onto the sticky bartop. 
“May I have this dance?” Joel asks you, holding his hand out for you to take. You grin and grab his hand, grip steady as he leads you out to the dance floor. 
You steadily sway to the song as you lean your head on Joel’s shoulder, letting him guide you to the beat. You glance up to see your family members have joined you both on the dance floor, and you smile in content as you squeeze Joel’s hand. He kisses your head before separating you, spinning you around so your back is against his front. 
He rocks you slowly, resting his chin on your shoulder before kissing your cheek. 
“‘M real happy you let me tag along this weekend, sweetheart.” Joel says, and you turn your head toward him and quirk an eyebrow. 
“Yeah? And why’s that?” 
“‘S nice to get out of Austin every once in a while. Your family is real invitin’, too.” 
“Before or after they interrogated you?” You ask with a smirk, and he laughs before spinning you again so you’re face-to-face. 
“Mostly after.” He confesses with a softness to his voice. You study his features unashamedly, the soft smile he has on his lips making your heart skip a beat as he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. 
There’s a certainty behind them that you can’t exactly pinpoint, but it made your whole body feel warm and fuzzy inside and you honest to god never wanted to forget the feeling. Joel is the only man who’s made you feel things you’ve never felt. He’s the only man who’s ever kept you on your toes yet has this overwhelming sense of comfort to him that just makes you want to give it all to him. 
And by the way he was looking back at you, you’d bet his thoughts are similar to yours. 
“You two are so in love it makes me sick.” Andrew sidles up beside you, nudging you in your ribs. 
Your eyes go wide and you look at your brother in panic, pleading him to shut the fuck up before you kill him with your bare hands. 
“Fuck off, Andy.” You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. You didn’t deny the painfully obvious fact, though. You didn’t want to deny it. 
Was it fast? Yes. But you couldn’t help how you felt. You were tired of running from something that was great for you. You were tired of running from solidity and peace and patience and love, all of which Joel gave you without having to say a single word. 
And then you realized—Joel never denied it either. He didn’t deny it when your brother’s loud mouth said that sacred word. He didn’t deny it when you looked at him again, that familiar look in his eyes returning as he just smiled at you, seemingly content in every possible way. 
Before you could say anything, Cole comes up to you while waving a crisp twenty dollar bill in your face. 
“Betcha one Jackson that you can’t ride that bull over there and stay on for more than a minute.” He’s got a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you’d take any opportunity to prove your brother wrong. 
“Oh, I will. After this song though,” You grin at Joel as Boot Scootin’ Boogie plays over the speakers. “C’mon cowboy, I wanna show off my new moves.” 
Joel easily obliges as he takes you deeper onto the dance floor. You’re slotted in a mix of a sweaty and drunken crowd, too far gone to care if they’re too off-beat or embarrassing themselves. 
You follow Joel’s lead and you two easily end up in sync with one another, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Somewhere between the spin in the chorus and the two-step move he’d taught you, you catch your family members staring at the two of you. Your mom whispers something to your sister, and you hope to god she didn’t change her opinion of him or something after seeing you two dancing like this. 
Emily knows you better than the back of her fucking hand, though, and she instantly reassures you with a smile and thumbs up before panic settles into your bones. 
Although it seems everyone in your immediate family approves of Joel, it would devastate you if they changed their minds about him for whatever reason. He wasn’t your ex. They at least knew that much. As much as you loved them, they were overbearing sometimes when it came to protecting you after what’d happened with Christian. You didn’t need that to drive a wedge between you and Joel, no matter how much of a forewarning you give him. 
The song ends and reality trickles back around you, as Joel spins you into him, giving you a chaste kiss. Your eyes flutter open after you pull away in the slightest, and there it is — that look — unwavering, and clear as day in his eyes. 
“Go show ‘em how you ride it.” He remarks, shooting you a wink. Your face heats at his obvious innuendo, and he can’t help the sly smirk that grows on his lips. 
Without another word, he releases you from his grasp and urges you toward your brother, still waving the twenty in his hand around like a flag. 
You roll your eyes at him and climb up onto the mechanical bull, the DJ timing you into when the machine will start to move. 
It was slow at first, and you easily found a rhythm to keep steady on its back. It started to jerk around and spin faster, and your thighs burned as you clenched onto the sides for dear life. You wanted to give a little show though, so you placed your hands behind your back and looked up at your brother with a wicked grin. 
His face deflated as he knew he’d been beaten. Your eyes flicker to Joel and you want to laugh at his expression—it seemed to be a cross between lust, admiration and astonishment. 
Oh, cowboy. You have no idea what you’re in for. 
The DJ announces your victory and the patrons of the bar cheer you on as you hop off of the bull. You walk up to Cole and snatch the twenty bucks from his hand before leaning into Joel, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 
“Wanna go back to the hotel room? I’m beat.” You ask Joel, and he nods. You say goodnight to your family and other members of the wedding party before you both head back in a comfortable silence. 
Exhaustion settles in your bones as you fall into step side-by-side, and Joel pulls you into him as you walk into the lobby of the hotel. You make your way onto the elevators and Joel presses the button of your floor, looking at you with a softness in his eyes as he settles his hand on your shoulder. 
“Thank you again for doing this whole wedding fiasco with me.” You say, voice full of exhaustion. He shoots you a soft smile and pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you securely. You mirror his actions as you look at him, an adoring gaze sparkling in his eyes. He leans in and kisses your forehead, giving your body a small squeeze. 
“Of course, darlin’.” 
You went to bed that night with Joel’s arm wrapped around you and a mind of racing thoughts, all consumed by that feeling again—the terrifying, wonderful feeling that kept playing in your mind as if it was the most obvious conclusion you’ve ever come to. 
-
The next morning was a blur. You got up early, trying not to disturb Joel because he looked so peaceful in his sleep. It was chaos amongst the bridal party with everyone getting ready and your sister revealing her final look to the girls. Tears sprang in your eyes as you saw her with the biggest smile on her face, unwavering as she twirled around in her dress that fit like a glove. 
“Emi, you look so beautiful. Josh is going to lose it when he sees you.” You say, sniffling as she gives you a tight hug. 
“I love you sis. Thank you for being a part of my big day.” She says, rubbing your back before pulling apart from you. You grin at her and blow her a kiss, turning when you feel your mom slightly nudge you. 
“Speaking of losing it, Joel’s gonna be head over heels seeing you in this dress,” Your mom says, “Wonder what he’ll be like when it’s your guys’ wedding and he sees you in a bridal gown.”
“Mom,” You stop her, but you can’t help the way your heart stutters at the thought of marriage with him. “Please don’t.”
Way too fucking soon. Right?
Your mom throws her hands up in defense, giving you a knowing look. 
“That man is in love with you, baby. He looks at you like you’re the sun, moon and stars.” 
That feeling tugged at you once again. You began to internally panic, but luckily the bridal party got called to an area in the hotel to take pictures. You needed a distraction, because knowing you and your mind, you’d unintentionally start self-sabotaging your relationship with Joel. 
Fuck, your ex really did a number on you. 
The day seemed to run by in a blur. Watching your sister say ‘I do’ to the love of her life made you glance over at Joel in the crowd, and to your surprise, his focus was already on you. 
There was this undeniably soft look in his eyes that said a million words without him having to utter a single one. He winks at you with a small smile and you mirror his grin, heading back down the aisle after Emily and Josh made their way down. 
A few hours later it was well into the reception, and Joel offered you his hand so you could slow dance with each other. 
“You know this thing drives me crazy, right?” You say, tapping the brim of his Stetson. He looked at you with a smirk, raising his eyebrows. 
“Really? Couldn’t tell.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice and you rolled your eyes as you huffed a laugh. He was wearing an emerald green button down with black slacks and black shoes, and his black cowboy hat tied the whole look together. He’d been getting stares all night by various family members and friends from both sides of the parties. 
You thought jealousy would’ve brewed its way into you, sinking her claws into your flesh—but it was the complete opposite. Pride blooms in your chest as you slow dance with this handsome man—your handsome man. 
“You look absolutely breathtakin’ tonight though, baby.” Joel whispers in your ear as you lean your head on his shoulder, taking in his addicting scent. 
You smile against him and bring your arm up over his other shoulder, gently wrapping your fingers around the base of his neck. Your index finger twirls the curls peeking out of the bottom of his hat absentmindedly, swaying with him with total ease. 
“I can say the same for you.” You murmur, and he squeezes your waist softly. 
“Yeah?” 
You lift your head off of his shoulder to meet his gaze, light and playful. A glint of mischief flashes in his eyes and you bite your lip in anticipation, the bubbling arousal having never left you since the previous night. 
You nod, hesitating for a second to find the right words. You knew you wanted to take the next step with him and finally go all the way without being interrupted. That is, if he’d have you. 
“I’d love to show you.” You whisper as the song ends. An upbeat tune plays immediately after, everyone crowding on the dance floor. It was the perfect time to make an escape. 
He links his fingers with yours, leaning forward to kiss you. You can’t help but smile as his lips press to yours, and you can’t help yourself—you take the hat off of his head mid-kiss, plopping it onto yours. He separates himself from you with a soft smile and a daring glint in his gaze. 
He tsked at you teasingly, adjusting the hat to sit straight onto your head. 
“What was that about the ‘Cowboy Hat Rule’ again?” You feign innocence, and he can’t help but laugh at your antics, ultimately deciding to play along. 
“How ‘bout I show you rather than tell you?” He says, and that’s all you need to gently tug him away from the crowd and toward the lobby. You make your way to the elevators, nerves buzzing through your veins at the prospect of what’s to happen. 
After what feels like forever, the elevator doors finally open and you both step inside. The doors close after Joel hits the seventh floor button, and the tension radiating off of both of you in such a confined space was nearly unbearable. 
Joel takes his hat off of your head and gently pushes you against the elevator wall, crowding you with his broad body. Your heart is beating a million miles a minute as you stare at him, gaze never wavering. 
You open your mouth to say something, but Joel crashes his lips to yours in fervor. You moan into the kiss as you tangle your hands through his curls, tugging on the base of them. 
His free hand finds your hip and squeezes, rutting his hips into yours. You can feel his bulge through his slacks, and you can’t help but whimper into the intense kiss as one hand travels down his back. 
Before you can touch him any further, the elevator dings and he separates from you, locking eyes with an elderly couple. 
The woman has a knowing smile on her face and sighs, “Oh, to be young and in love.” Joel takes your hand and leads you out of the elevator and to your shared room, fumbling with the key. It almost calms you in a way to know you aren’t the only one filled with nerves, anxious about finally being able to have this time to yourselves. 
Joel tossed the keycard onto the side table when he finally got it open, putting his hand on your lower back to guide you into the room. The soft glow of the lamp illuminates his handsome features as he stares at you admirably, tossing his Stetson onto a chair next to the bed without looking. 
Joel steps closer to you, grabbing your hips gently before leaving a trail of kisses from your forehead, nose, cheek, and finally, your lips. The kiss was softer this time—full of emotion, saying a thousand words with one simple gesture. 
His hands skate up your back and to the zipper of your dress, parting his lips from yours as he looks into your eyes. 
“Can I?” His voice is soft but hopeful, and you instantly nod. He drags the zipper down your back with ease, slowly removing the straps from your shoulders. The dress pools to your feet below you, and you’re left in a lacy nude and black bra with black panties. Joel’s eyes rake over your body hungrily, hands twitching at his sides. 
“You’re so beautiful, baby.” 
You can’t help but feel shy for a second, but Joel wasn’t having any of that. He grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, kissing your lips a few times before he nods his head to the bed. 
“On the bed, baby. Spread your legs for me.” His deep, commanding tone sent a shiver down your spine. You didn’t know what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t this. 
You do as you’re told, settling your head onto the plush pillows as you let your legs fall open. Joel moves to untuck his green shirt. He unbuttons the shirt slowly, never breaking eye contact with you. You bite your lip teasingly as you watch him undress, and his thick, tan torso comes into sight. 
“Fuck, you’re so sexy, you know that?” You say, but it nearly sounds like a whine. Joel flashes you a smirk before climbing onto the bed, slotting himself between your legs. Your arms grip his shoulders before grabbing the green material, sliding it off of his arms completely before tossing it onto the floor for him. You kiss his shoulder and neck, hands moving up to tangle themselves in his curls once again. 
He ruts his hips into you, and the pressure of his bulge catches perfectly onto your aching clit. You moan his name softly, moving one hand down to gently palm him through his slacks.  
“Can’t believe we finally get to do this without any interruptions.” Joel chuckles, moving down to kiss your neck. 
“Let’s not hold our breaths.” You say teasingly, fingers moving to unbutton and unzip his slacks. He allows it, not stopping you from eagerly undressing the rest of him. 
He separates himself from you, sliding the slacks down his legs before moving down the bed, kissing your body as he goes. His tongue traces lines down your thighs, dangerously close to your aching core, before he kisses your skin. He continues the assault of kisses until his mouth is hovering over the only thing that separates your most intimate part from him and his line of sight. He kisses the lace fabric once, then pokes his tongue out to drag the strong muscle from your entrance to your clit. 
You can’t hold back your moans anymore. You need him so bad. 
Your body was nearly shaking from the buzz of anticipation coursing through your veins, aching to have his hands and mouth all over you. 
He finally hooks his fingers into the side of your panties, tapping your hips twice to silently instruct you to lift them. You comply once more, and Joel drags the lace material down your legs. 
He comes back up to you, kissing your lips once before settling his face between your legs again. 
You feel so exposed and almost embarrassed, but the carnal need for this man outweighs the shyness a thousand times over. 
“So perfect, baby. So goddamn perfect. ‘N all mine.” He says, looking up at you before separating your glistening folds with his middle and forefinger. You gasp and whine his name as he just stares at you, mesmerized by the way you squirm under his touch. 
You try to beg and plead him to do anything, but the words won’t come out. 
He seems to have decided he’s teased you enough, because the next thing you know, his tongue licks a long stripe up from your entrance, through your folds, and up to your clit. Your moans only spur him on as he solely focuses on you, eating your pussy like a starved man. 
Nobody has ever turned you on the way Joel Miller has, and you cannot for the life of you believe this man is yours. He’s yours, and he’s here, very present and very meticulous when it comes to pleasing you with that beautiful mouth of his. 
Joel moves his tongue down and prods into your entrance, fucking you with the muscle. Your back arches off of the mattress and he has to use both of his hands to hold your hips down, locking his fingers down into your flesh. 
“Fuck, Joel—” You squeak out as his tongue moves up to your clit, circling it a few times before sucking it into his mouth gently. The pressure is just right, and your brain is getting fuzzy—you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. 
Joel takes one of his hands away from your stomach before separating his mouth from you, coating his digits in your slick. He sends a wicked smirk your way before going down again, and this time, his middle and ring finger enter you. 
It stings so good, mainly because you haven’t had this in a long time. He pumps his fingers in and out of you at an expert pace, curling them up to hit that sweet spongy spot. 
You immediately crumble. Your hips are writhing wildly beneath his half-soaked face as you cry out his name over and over again. You’re gushing all over his fingers, desperately gripping onto the soft comforter beneath you as you ride out your intense orgasm. 
“Atta girl,” Joel breathes, mesmerized by the way you clench around nothing after he removes his fingers from you. “Taste so fuckin’ good, darlin’.” 
He moves up to kiss you, and you can immediately taste your slick arousal on his lips and tongue. You hum into the kiss as you palm him through his boxers, tugging on the band as you separate from him. He knocks his forehead against yours gently before sliding the material down his legs, now completely bare for you. 
His hand moves to the clasp of your bra and unhooks it easily, breasts spilling out as he tosses the material on the floor with the rest of the clothes. 
He looks down at you with a soft smile, and you can’t help but mirror his actions. It’s pure bliss and you selfishly never want this to end. His hand travels down your body and in between your legs, swirling the tip of his middle finger through your arousal. You gasp at the featherlight touch, clenching around nothing as he never breaks eye contact with you. 
You decide to return the favor, licking your hand before skimming your fingers over his torso before looking down to see them slide through the dark hairs that appear below his navel. You take in the sight of his cock; it’s girthy and the perfect length. You just know it’ll feel divine. You thumb the pre-come leaking from his tip, popping your finger into your mouth. 
You moan at the slightly salty taste, moving your hand back down to finally grip him with care. He feels heavy in your palm, warm and pulsating and fucking desperate for you to start rythmically moving your hand. You twist your wrist and start to pump him, and a guttural groan rumbles from the confines of his chest. 
“Fuck, baby—yeah, just like that. So good.” He groans softly, brows furrowing as he leans down to kiss you. 
And you spend the next few minutes like that—making out with Joel while he teases your swollen clit, fingers briefly delving into your entrance before moving back out, and your hand slowly twisting up and down his silky flesh. 
Something about this was so sweet to you, albeit the act being promiscuous. You were taking your time with each other, savoring every moment you have now. God knows when you’ll be able to do this in peace again once you get back to Austin. 
Joel’s body tenses for a second before he pushes your hand away, chuckling in defeat. 
“Don’t wanna come yet, sweetheart.”
You nod in understanding and he slips his fingers away from your dripping heat, bringing them up to your mouth. You eagerly suck on his fingers, staring up at him in a way to say I want you. I’m ready to have you—if you’ll have me. 
Joel climbs on top of you once more, kissing your forehead. He nudges his nose against yours before looking at you again. 
“Wait, I didn’t bring any protection.” His shoulders deflate at the realization, and you can’t help but softly laugh. 
“I have an IUD, Joel. Only if you’re comfortable with going through with this, I’m right there with you.” You reassure him. 
He looks concerned for a second, hesitating as if his mind is running a million miles a minute. 
“You sure about this, baby?” He asks, cupping your cheek in his hand before kissing your nose. You nod with no hesitation. 
“Absolutely sure, Joel. I’m yours.” You whisper, and he can’t help the grin that spreads across his face before he leans down to kiss you. He swipes the head of his cock through your folds, stopping at your entrance. 
He separates his lips from yours once more, “Tell me to stop if it’s too much, okay?” He says, and you nod. He hums in content, pushing himself into you slowly. 
You gasp at the stinging feeling, fingertips digging into the back of his shoulders. 
“There you go baby, that's it. Doin’ so well, pretty girl.” He praises, kissing your lips repeatedly as he reaches the hilt. 
The feeling is cosmic. The stretch is absolutely delicious. You whisper his name to him, threading your fingers through his hair once more in desperation as your meek voice finally found its way aloud. 
“Move, Joel. Please.” 
And he does. He starts off slow, rocking his hips into yours. The slide of his velvety length in and out of you is otherworldly. 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he held onto the back of your neck, picking up his pace. He leans down to capture one of your breasts in his mouth, swirling his tongue expertly around your pert nipple as he continues rocking his hips into yours. 
Your moans are increasingly louder, not exactly giving a fuck who can hear you anymore. Your mind was solely consumed about the man ravishing your body in such a way that had you seeing stars. 
The weight of his body on yours, his soft groans, the heavy feeling of his cock, his scent, his curls—everything about him was all-consuming, and you loved it. 
“So pretty, baby. Feel so fuckin’ good. All mine.” Joel babbles, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. You try to grind your hips in sync with his expert thrusts, creating an almost unbearably pleasurable friction. 
Your hands fly to his back and you scratch down his skin, head flying back onto the pillows as you arch your back into him. 
“Joel, fuck, I’m so close.” You cry, eyes squeezing shut as the familiar flame burns bright within your core. 
“Me too, baby, fuck—where–where do you want me?” He asks, chest heaving as his thrusts become impossibly faster. 
“In me, Joel. Please.” Your plea is breathy and desperate, and you feel yourself teetering over the edge, devastating euphoria ripping through your body as your cunt convulses around his cock. 
You bury your face into his shoulder, crying out his name. 
“Fuck, sweet girl, I—” 
His spend is warm as he comes, buried in you as he groans your name breathlessly. He slumps down onto you, wrapping his arm around your waist as he rolls over on his side, taking you with him. He slips out of you slowly and you both groan at the loss of contact. 
You nuzzle into him as he kisses your forehead repeatedly, running his hand up and down your spine as you both come down from the high. 
“Fuck, that was—” You pause, and Joel chuckles. 
“Yeah, it really was.” He agrees, tipping your jaw up so he can kiss you chastely. 
Your eyes were heavy now, tracing his hairline down to his jaw and to his lips. He kisses your fingers as exhaustion consumes you both. He throws the comforter over your bodies and he gives you one last kiss. 
“Goodnight, sweet girl,” And if you weren’t in such a comatose-like state, you would’ve heard him softly whisper the words “I love you.” 
And if you would’ve heard those words, you would’ve said them right back. It might’ve scared the hell out of you, but you could no longer deny the fact—
You were, in fact, in love with Joel Miller, too. 
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I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship
Couple, Bar Chapter 1
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Summary: After you help Joel with a work project, he takes you out for drinks. When the bartender mistakes you for a couple, his brain short circuits.
Pairing: Single Dad Neighbor!Joel Miller X Reader
Warnings: Joel thinking being mean is flirting, alcohol, grinding on strangers, getting groped in public, no-no words. In my mind there's an age gap (10 years max) and I envision a mid-40s Joel, but I don't think it'll ever become apparent.
Word Count: 2.3k
Notes: Formatting on mobile is not for the weak, y'all, so if this looks like ass I'm sorry. I don't know what a contractor does. Song mentioned is Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship) by Studio Killers. Full playlist is linked on the master post for this series (which I'll learn to link all together soon I promise I'M OLD, OK?!) Also I promise I have an English degree but if I read this one more time I'll lose the nerve to post it so ignore any mistakes I missed. Anyway love you bye.
While you weren't on your neighbor Joel's payroll, every now and then he'd knock on your door and sheepishly ask to borrow your "eye for design," which was Joel talk for "I need help knowing what handles look good on these cabinets I'm building and every other person in my life is busy."  
You and Joel had been neighbors for the better part of 5 years and had become relatively close in that time. If you were being honest with yourself, the first day you met you might have fallen in love, but since immediately jumping into a relationship with a newly-divorced single father wasn't on your five-year plan, those feelings were buried, albeit not always successfully.
Joel was charming, kind, and... Southern.  And while these were all things that made you head over heels for him, they were exactly what made it difficult to interpret his feelings for you. Were he and Sarah baking you Christmas cookies and hand delivering them to your door because he too had a crush, or was he just being neighborly? Was he grinning every time he said hello to you because he was a nice guy? What were you supposed to make of that one time, on his couch for movie night, when his hand lingered a little longer than normal on your thigh? You had no idea, and for the sake of your friendship, you were content not knowing.
On this particular day, Joel needed help matching paint colors to flooring samples and might as well have been color blind. He was building a house for a newlywed couple and their wishes for, as Joel put it, "some 1960s Brady Bunch bullshit" aesthetic meant nothing to him. You had spent the better part of an hour helping Joel match swatches of green and orange in ways that he had previously thought impossible, and as a thank you, he offered to buy you a drink at the first bar you spotted on the way home.
The first bar you spotted happened to be an almost-literal hole in the wall, but the packed parking lot indicated it was a place worth visiting.  Joel opened the door, beckoning you through the threshold ahead of him, and you're hit with a wall of smoke and the bump of a local dj working through his set. 
Luckily most of the people at the bar had already started drinking and were congregated in the middle of the tiny dance floor, making it easy to find two seats. Joel flagged the bartender over and ordered for the both of you, handing his card over to start a tab.
"Got you a beer, this place doesn't look like they'd make a good margarita," Joel shouts over the music. 
You smile, leaning in close to thank Joel. "I appreciate the forethought! Send me a Venmo request for what I end up owing you," you gesture to the frosty bottles that get put in front of you.
Joel tuts and waves his hand between you two in a noncommittal gesture. He leans in close to your ear instead of shouting this time, "consider it payment for your help today. When that couple told me they wanted their house to be 'midcentury Palm Springs chic' I knew you'd know what they meant. The wife kept sending me links to her Pinterest board, whatever the fuck that is. I was too scared to click them because..."
"Because you're fucking old," you finish, barking out a laugh at the frown that Joel gives you.
After one beer turned into three, Joel starts to open up. Despite his gruff exterior, you know he cares and is interested in your life, even if it takes some alcohol to get him asking about it.
"Have you started dating yet?" The question catches you off guard, your eyes growing wide. "What? You've been in town for five years now, it's high time you start putting yourself out there. A pretty girl like you should have no trouble finding a man."
There it is again. Is Joel just being nice calling you pretty? Or is he fishing for something more?
"Have you started dating?" you counter, raising an eyebrow, nodding when Joel shakes his head. "I'm too busy, Joel. I'm…"
"'Focusing on my career,'" Joel finishes for you, having heard it all before.
You roll your eyes. "Why are we talking about this?"
Joel smirks and cocks his head to your beer, the label in the process of being peeled completely off. "You've peeled the label off every drink you've had tonight."
"Oh…kay?"
Joel shrugs, "if Tommy were here he'd say you're pulling the labels off because you're sexually frustrated." He makes a face as if to say 'but what do I know?'
You raised an eyebrow at Joel. "You of all people should know not to take what Tommy says as fact. And you're one to talk; you live across the street, I'd notice if women were coming over. And they're not. You're going through a dry spell, Miller, same as me." You empty your bottle, stuffing the label down the neck and waving the bartender over for you and Joel to order one more round.  Joel tries to think of a witty comeback, but he knows you're right. 
You watch the bartender open your tab on the till behind the bar and chuckle when you notice what she's titled it: at the top of the screen, in bold letters, "COUPLE BAR."
You tap Joel's bicep, pointing to the screen, "look at that, Miller," you shout over the music, "she thinks you and I are a couple."
Joel looks at the screen himself, eyes suddenly going wide. You raise an eyebrow at him, confused as to why he isn't just chuckling at the bartender's misunderstanding, but your expression turns to one of anger once Joel regains use of his brain and the only thing he can think to say is, "... ew?"
You hope you just misheard him over the loud music, but as Joel started to sputter out an apology, looking horrified at what he had said, you realize - a stranger thought you two were dating, and Joel thinks that's gross. You weren't interested in hearing him trip over his words while he tried to backtrack, and you desperately needed a distraction so you didn't start to cry.  You wave your hand in front of Joel's face, telling him to save it as you grab your beer and push past him to the dance floor.
This is definitely not your scene, the middle of a smoke-filled bar on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, but you make the most of it, taking a swig from your bottle as you push through the crowd. Once you've made your way to the center of the crowd, you assume the position - eyes closed, bottle raised above your head, swinging your hips to whatever top 40 hit the dj decides to bleed into the last one he played.  You don't have to wait long before you feel a body push up behind you and you welcome the distraction. You don't open your eyes or lower your hand except to drink from your near empty bottle, but you do back your ass up against the stranger behind you. It's definitely not Joel. This person behind you is way too lanky; when his arms encircle your waist they lack definition, his thighs aren't nearly as beefy as Joel's, and… you get frustrated with yourself.  Joel just insinuated dating you would be gross and all you can do is think about how hot he is? 
You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts and enjoy the moment. The guy behind you is getting handsy, and normally that would bother you, but Joel was right about that dry spell. One song bleeds into another as you gyrate against this stranger who now has his hand splayed across your stomach under your shirt.
You're ripped unceremoniously from your mindless grinding by a large hand on your shoulder. You wink one eye open though you knew it was Joel. You're not interested in hearing him out, especially not with this stranger's hand gliding slowly up your torso, boldly inching closer to your chest.
"Darlin'" you hear Joel shout over the music, "'m sorry. I didn't mean…"
You put your palm in front of Joel's face before moving your hand on top of the stranger's, whose fingers are teasing the hem of your bra. Joel can be sorry, but he's also going to see how decidedly not-ew the thought of being with you is.
"Whatever, Joel. You can think being my boyfriend is gross. This is fine!" You open your eyes and the look on Joel's face is one you've never seen before. At this point he isn't looking at you, he's staring daggers at the man behind you. Whoever he is seems blissfully unaware.
"Honey, I'm out of touch. I'm fucking old, you said it yourself! I don't know how to - hey, buddy, do you fucking mind?" The hand under your shirt loses its grip on you as Joel shoves the shoulder of the guy behind you. Suddenly his body unglues itself from your back.
"My bad, man. Didn't know she had a boyfriend," he shouts over the music as he disappears back into the crowd. You groan and roll your eyes.
"So sorry, Joel! Turns out when you look and act like my boyfriend, people think you really are! How embarrassing for you," you ramble into Joel's ear. You turn to walk off the dance floor, embarrassed, but before you're out of his reach Joel grabs your forearm, pulling gently until you're flush with his body. He towers over you, his eyes bore into yours.
"Please listen," he bends to speak quietly into your ear, "I'm sorry, and I mean it. We're friends, and I value that. I thought I was bantering, bein' funny. I know you don't want to be a couple at this bar. I know you want to be friends, nothing more, with me. But…" he trails off, pulling away to look at your face.
The atmosphere changes in a way that you swear is straight out of a movie. The lights pulsing and flashing are hitting Joel's face in a way that makes him even more handsome, which you'd thought previously impossible. While your beer bottle is empty, clutched into your hand that hangs limply at your side, Joel's drink is nearly full, still frosty, and dripping condensation through your shirt, soaking your lower back. Joel's eyebrows are raised, waiting for you to do or say anything. 
And then the dj changes the song. You are… intimately familiar with what begins to play and you shake your head, chuckling. What divine intervention drove the dj to start playing a song about ruining a friendship at this very moment? You have no idea, but you make a mental note to thank the universe as you smile at Joel. You push away from him for just a second, long enough to rip the label off your empty beer bottle. Joel looks confused watching you ball up the damp paper. 
You chuckle as you toss the label at Joel, it pinging off his temple before you spin your body so your back is plastered against Joel's front. 
You'll show him sexually frustrated.
Joel seems to take a second to read the situation because his body doesn't move. In fact, it goes rigid. Your hips sway against him anyway. Joel only breaks out of his spell when your arm snakes around his neck and you bury your fingers in his hair. Tugging gently on his curls seems to awaken something in him and his hands are on you in seconds. The hand clutching his beer comes to rest on your hip as the other picks up where your previous dance partner left off, creeping under your shirt and splaying across your stomach. 
"What are we doin' here, baby?" Joel rasps into your ear, his voice deeper and more strained than you're used to. "I guess I deserve you teasin' me, but two can play this game." Joel's nose prods at a spot behind your ear as he peels one cup of your bra away from your body, replacing it with his hand. Your eyes fly open to ensure no one notices, but everyone on the dance floor is busy paying attention to their own partners. Joel rolls your nipple between two fingers before giving it a flick; you try and suppress a moan.
Not to be outdone, you reach for the beer bottle in Joel's hand. You make sure Joel's eyes are locked on you as you lick a stripe up the neck of the bottle, taking a generous sip before handing it back. Joel's eyes widen and he smirks, bringing his mouth back to your ear.
"Think it goes without sayin' now, but I really don't hate the idea of people thinking you're mine," Joel accentuates his last word with a gentle nip at your earlobe that makes your head loll back onto his shoulder. 
"Are you listening to the song, Joel?" You reach up to place your hand on Joel's cheek, turning his face gently so your eyes meet.  He looks confused, but you can tell he's training his ear onto the chorus of what's playing.
I wanna ruin our friendship
We should be lovers instead
I don't know how to say this
'Cause you're really my dearest friend
Joel lowers his eyes back down to meet yours and smirks. "You an' me both, darlin'." His hand around your waist pulls you impossibly closer and you feel him grow hard against your ass. 
"Know where I last heard this song?" The final notes start to dissipate, melding seamlessly with the next song. Joel shakes his head and asks where. You smirk, nuzzling into Joel's neck before you lick a stripe up to his ear. "It's on my sex playlist."
Joel stills. You grin, giggling as he pushes you away gently. "I've gotta close out the tab," he says once he remembers how to form thoughts into words. "Meet me at the truck. And think about what song you're gonna put on once I get you home."
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mundo-misterio · 2 years
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Southern Hospitality: Bravo establece la fecha de estreno de la serie derivada de Southern Charm: cancelada + programas de televisión renovados
Southern Hospitality: Bravo establece la fecha de estreno de la serie derivada de Southern Charm: cancelada + programas de televisión renovados
Southern Hospitality llegará a Bravo el próximo mes. La nueva serie, un spin-off de Southern Charm, está protagonizada por Leva Bonaparte. El programa sigue los estilos de vida trabajadores y divertidos de los compañeros de trabajo en Republic Garden & Lounge, su popular club nocturno de Charleston. Bravo extiende su estadía en Charleston, SC en el estreno de ‘Southern Hospitality’ Lunes 28 de…
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foreingersgod · 6 months
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✩ 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻
request status: CLOSED!! you are still free to send them into my inbox, but i’m only writing the requests i feel up to atm :)
who i’m currently writing for:
women’s basketball
caitlin clark
kate martin
emily engstler
paige bueckers
juju watkins
kk arnold
nika muhl
georgia amoore
women’s hockey
caroline “k.k.” harvey
click here for my country series! look below for everything else :)
WCBB:
↳ caitlin clark
you’re everything
battered and bruised
is it casual now?
she’s a force to be reckoned with
lost in your touch
red wine supernova
nobody gets me
good luck! babe
twisted ankle
championship
her jersey
regrets
beautiful crazy
texas twang
she likes girls
all for you
obsessed
miss americana + the heartbreak prince
nightmares
jealous
end of the day
↳ kate martin
if she ever leaves me
wedding planning
living life with you
thick and thin
jealousy
night at the gala
hard launch
southern charm
bear
smitten
work song
needy (SMUT 18+)
↳ emily engstler
let’s stay home
let’s stay home pt 2 (SMUT 18+)
tired
tattoos
coloring book
touch
wait up for you
↳ paige bueckers
blackgf!reader headcannons
anxious
naked in manhattan
friendly banter
is this my shirt?
↳ kk arnold
fem!reader headcannons
you’re enough
↳ juju watkins
vb!reader headcannons
date night
↳ nika muhl
best friends sister
↳ georgia amoore
sofia
Women’s Hockey
↳ caroline harvey
you (on my arm)
scaredy cat
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smusherina · 2 months
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bridges burnt - chapter 5 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)
fandom: Mean Girls (all media)
pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader
summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.
additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)
warning(s): weed mischief
chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4
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You were sitting at your table, chatting amicably with everyone, when Gretchen finally graced you with her presence. She was glowing, that much you could admit.
"Hey, guys!" She gave an energetic greeting. You smiled and waved.
"Oh em gee, Gretch!" Regina said as she stood up. She was considerably taller than the bride, with killer heels that gave some significant inches. They did air kisses on each cheek and cooed and squealed for a little.
"It's been so long! You're so rarely in town I wasn't sure you'd come!" Gretchen enthused. Her husband stood on the sidelines, looking quite put out but trying to hide it.
"Oh, you know I always make time for you," A blatant lie but you weren't going to say anything about it. "I'm so happy you've found love!"
"Me too," Gretchen gushed, snaring her boo-thang by the arm. He'd zoned out so startled a little but recovered quick with a dashing smile.
"Hi, I'm Michael." Of course, his name was Michael. What was next? Chad? Tucker?
"Regina. Regina George." Regina said, then turned to you. "And this is my partner."
You stood up and shook his hand, then said your name. "Nice to meet you. Congrats."
Michael nodded, smiling uncomfortably. He'd seemed sociable and open with the other guests so you didn't get why he was being all shy now.
"Thanks!" Gretchen chirped. Her eyes flitted between you and Regina. "Sorry if this is abrupt, but you two are still together?"
"We did go on a break right before college." Regina chose her words deliberately. "But after that, we just couldn't resist. True love just pulls you in, doesn't it?" She put her arm around your waist and pulled you to her. You stumbled a little, falling into her. Your arms came around her neck.
Gretchen looked quite unsettled by the close embrace. "It totally does." She said, tone falling flat.
"Mmh. Well, what plans have you got? Honeymoon?"
"Michael's been planning it for us," Gretchen said. That surprised you considering she was such a control freak. Perhaps you were wrong.
"There's no keeping secrets from her," Michael laughed. "Surprising her is too damn hard." His Southern twang was prominent. Something was charming about him, you supposed.
"I just want it to be right, Mike!" Gretchen teased, lightly hitting him on the shoulder. "I've been better haven't I? I let Deborah do the flower arrangements."
"Yes, dear," Michael said, looking down at Gretchen with real, genuine love in his eyes.
Seeing them interact, so sweet on one another, made you sad. First of all, because you were so similar. You were on the same level, people just the same as them. Looking at them like this, in just the context of the moment currently playing out, you didn't want to ruin their wedding.
But you had history. Gretchen had outed you to the school in junior year of high school. It'd had devastating effects on your life as a whole. Your father went from cold neglect to open disdain, you lost the jobs you were doing around the neighbourhood, your peers ostracised you. Those close to you, Regina mostly, got targeted rumours spread around and more negative attention than ever.
Gretchen was not the sole reason for your and Regina's break up but definitely one of them. You had settled to forgive and forget when you came back to town, to stay away and not say anything in a silent, mutual agreement. You buried the hatchet and thought she had, too.
You should've known better. Watching her make googly eyes at her husband as if the things she did had no bearing, no weight, infuriated you. She had ruined your life. Things had progressed since you were in high school and outing didn't have quite the same fallout, but what she did to Kylie was still unforgivable. There hadn't been that much progress. Gay marriage was still illegal in some states.
"Man, Gretchen, seeing you like this brings me back." You said, eyeing her. "Those sure were the days," You sighed and played wistful.
The bride and groom shared glances. Regina picked up what you were putting down and got involved.
"You'll be seeing just how much of a wildcat she is, Michael," Regina said, laying it on thick. "You have my number, Gretch, just give me a call if you wanna relive old times on your wedding night." She finished off with a saucy wink. You almost couldn't hold in your laughter.
"Toodles," Regina wiggled her fingers and took you by the arm, leading you away.
Once you were a safe distance away, you asked: "Wonder if they'll talk about that in private?"
"About Gretchen being involved, allegedly, in a lesbian threesome sandwich? I'd bet on it." Regina grinned.
You steered towards the exit to the parking lot where your car was. You had the kazoos and water pistols in the trunk. Maybe you spent a good fifteen minutes pinning Regina to the side of your flashy vintage—Betty the Catalina, you introduced—sucking the soul out of her through her mouth. Making out. Whatever, that was neither here nor there.
While Regina set out to find a gullible mother to deceive into giving out kazoos and water pistols, you called a guy. Rick was his name and he owed you a favour. He happened to be the owner of several karaoke bars. He'd hook you up.
"Yeah, anything will do, just needs to connect to the loudspeakers—uhh, pretty new I'd say, nothing too fancy but they didn't skimp out, that's for sure—yeah, yeah, I'll give you the address. Can he get here in an hour? Maybe less? I can pay his speeding tickets, no worries."
After making sure a karaoke machine would be delivered to the reception, you strutted back towards the building. On the way, you spotted three youths huddled in a non-descript spot by some shed. They were only visible from the parking lot. You knew what they were up to.
"Hey, kids," You sidled up to them, prompting the tallest of them to fumble with the joint he was trying to light. He had acne all over and residues of black eyeliner on his eyes. He had a strip of hair dyed stripey like a racoon tail. It was pretty cool, to be honest.
"H- hey," He stuttered, voice cracking as he swiped some hair from his eyes. Oh, to be young.
"You got weed?" You decided to be blunt. (Ha, blunt.) The two others were shaking like leaves in their tuxedos.
"No. I don't, like, even know what that is," The ring-leader crossed his arms defensively and leaned casually against the wall of the shed. Or, well, he was going for casual but looked extremely spooked.
"Well, that's a damn shame 'cause I was just looking to buy some." You said and reached into your breast pocket to pull out your wallet. You opened it and pulled out a couple of fifties. "I got all this cash to burn. But, hey, if you don't got any..."
"You'd pay that much for weed?" The boy eyed the bills hungrily.
"I'll be straight with you, kid-"
"I'm not a kid. I'm seventeen." He grumped. "Flint. Or Finnigan, I guess."
"Alright, Flint, I'm gonna put this bluntly. Your family sorta sucks." You looked at the other two. They were probably all cousins. Wouldn't tattle if Flint, the Cool One, told them not to. They didn't seem that much younger. As a responsible adult, you should've probably said something along the lines of 'don't smoke it's bad for you' but you were just glad they weren't shooting up or anything.
"Understatement of the century," He scoffed.
"Which side are you from, by the way?"
"The groom's." They all said in unison. That explained why you'd never seen most of these folk.
"I don't know much about him to be fair, but if he's shacking up with Gretchen I'm pretty sure they're equally sucky. Anyway, I'm trying to get everybody as fucked up as possible." You clarified, skirting around exactly what you were trying to do which was to ruin the wedding. Maybe these kids had better morals than you. "The bride sorta caused a rift between my girlfriend and I years back, outed me to the whole school, it was a scandal, we broke up and I spiralled. It was bad and I want revenge."
"She outed you? Like..." Flint looked around, looking scared someone was gonna hear. Nobody else was around. "Like you're gay?"
"I'm here with my girlfriend today." You said, smiling dopeyly. Your cheeks hurt. "I think we're back together. It's complicated. So, you wanna sell?"
"Hell yeah," He grinned, teeth crooked to the ninth degree. "Can we get in on it? Michael totally sucks, he orders us around like we're his minions or something."
The other two nodded along empathetically. They all had the same boxy, swoopy haircut that kept falling into their eyes. What luck that ran into the angsty teens of the clan.
"I don't know how much you'll be able to do without getting in trouble with your parents. Gotta be at least a little subtle."
Flint dug into his backpack and pulled out a plastic tupperware. There were some decent-looking nugs in there from what you could see through the frosted plastic. You handed over the cash.
"Pleasure doing business with you." You contemplated for a moment. "Any chance you could pull the fire alarm for the cake-cutting?"
The three matching evil grins were enough of an answer for you. Their little emo faces made your chest feel warm. You wanted to take them under your wing, or something.
"By the way, weed is fine. It's not great, I don't recommend it, but if you're gonna do drugs then this is best case scenario." You shook the plastic case in your hand. "Never do hard drugs. It's gonna make your hair fall out and teeth hurt like a bitch."
You left the three teenagers to smoke their blunt, knowing that your little shpiel probably went through one ear and out the other. You hoped they pulled through but if they didn't, you were planning on doing enough wicked shit that the sprinklers triggering would just be a cherry on top.
You found Janis smoking a cigarette at the same spot you'd been at earlier.
"You got a grinder?"
You opened the lid of the box, blasting the air with the potent smell of cannabis.
"Where the fuck did you get all that?" She asked as she reached into her purse.
"Not important. What is, though, is how we'll get the guests high."
Janis, the bright mind that she was, immediately got to work. You didn't even bother asking what she was up to when she crouched on the floor and began grinding away. She had fast hands, you observed, with how quick and clean she was rolling several blunts. Now that you saw clearly into the tupperware, lord almighty Flint had a lot of kush.
"What's the plan?" You asked after a moment, holding the box in one hand and blunts in the other. You stubbornly ignored the compulsion to stick one between your lips and light up. That was over for you.
"Find a Helen, a Beatrice, and or a Leigh-Anne, and convince them this is a miracle herb harvested from the government-protected, top-secret alpine springs of Florida, known for reversing wrinkles, repairing hymens, and with long-term use reducing hair growth neck down. It might even accelerate or delay menopause, depending on whose asking."
"Florida is the flattest state in the continental USA." You pointed out.
"Exactly." Janis didn't spare you a glance, just kept on rolling.
"So we're spinning a multilevel-marketing scheme on these people."
"Not really." Janis paused and turned to you. "We're just scamming them. Not even with money, with the devil's lettuce."
"That's arguably worse. I think this might be a felony."
"Oh, it definitely is."
Notes: The ball is rolling! At last! It only took five chapters good golly god.
Taglist posted seperately! If you want on it, comment so on that post!
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watchtowerindistress · 6 months
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for the love of ... bob? - jake seresin x reader (1/2)
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Summary: Being Jake's (best) friend - sorry, Javy - proved to have its ups and downs but there was something about having him in your corner you couldn't resist. Jake and you just clicked on a deeper level. That's why you didn't get it when the Southern boy was acting so weird.-
Word count: 3.6k
Warnings: Language, Jake being an idiot (what else is new?), Jealous! + Soft!Jake, fluff
Author’s note: Just something fun I wanted to write. I kinda hate myself for not writing for Bradley first, since I love the guy. You know, Jake's fics I love to read, yet I couldn't stand him while watching Maverick. Go figure.
I haven't watched the film enough to distinguish the traits of the characters, so I can't guarantee for accuracy for the side characters. I can only include a handful of people - that's why I don't have people like Reuben in there since their character traits aren't included in the fandom page.
Tagging: @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @blackmagicwoman @silenthappyplace @mrsevans90 @dempy @yourgirlypop (blank blogs can't be tagged)
Read me on AO3 | Series masterlist
“So, tell us all the details. Preferably, the humiliating kind,” Natasha asked with a curious air.
You smiled. “What about?”
“Hangman, of course.”
The Dagger Squad was the perfect company to be around, you decided. Jake, your childhood best friend, who you haven’t seen in years, offered The Hard Deck as the place for you to wait until he arrived. Video calls didn’t hold up to the real thing. Especially, with you two being very busy people and you finally getting out of New York to spend some quality time together.
“I need to get the embarrassing goods, at least before Hangman shows up. I mean, we have the perfect person to interrogate. In the rare instances, when he talks about something other than himself, Hangman keeps mentioning you,” she mused.
“Nat-” Bob interjected, who was sitting next to her in a booth while the rest of their squad were scattered in the bar.
Natasha turned her head. “Aren’t you a little bit curious about the depraved mind of Jake Seresin?”
“Not really.”
You snorted at their torn convictions when Mickey and Javy arrived at their table with bottles of beer.
“What did we miss?” Javy asked.
Natasha’s stubborn gaze didn’t stray from yours for many seconds. “I’m trying to crack Y/N.” Her eyes met Javy’s over her shoulder. “Tell Rooster he needs to stall him until I get to the good bits.”
You looked around speculatively. “Is this some sort of initiation or baptism by fire Jake should’ve warned me about?”
Javy offered a small reprieve. “Don’t mind her. She just wants to pick your brain. How long are you going to stay?”
“About a week. Enough time for Jake to show me around San Diego.”
Mickey took a gulp from his drink. “Good luck with that.”
Warm breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine when someone whispered into your ear, “Did I just hear my name?”
Your body jolted at hearing the unexpected voice. “Oh my God.” You turned and found a cheeky Jake standing behind you. “You little f- Don’t startle me like that!” Clambering out of the booth, you jumped into his arms, while giggling from the shock. “Hey, you,” you said, holding on tightly.
“Hey, yourself. Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes, darlin’.”
“You’re such a jerk,” you whispered into his neck.
Jake swayed you lightly. “You love when I’m a jerk.”
Leaning back, you pressed your fingers an inch apart. “Just a tad.” You hesitated. “Like about 10%.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Oh please. Talk about 75%. It’s part of my charm,” he murmured, stroking your lower back.
“Is this what you tell everyone here?” You teased, pointing to his colleagues behind you.
Javy’s scoff was joined by the others.
You looked back to see their reactions. “You know, I’m starting to really like your group of friends.” While turning back, you narrowed your eyes when you saw Jake glowering at the Dagger Squad before his expression turned into an innocent one.
“I’m starting to question your taste in people,” he said.
Someone snickered next to him. “That’s funny, … Hangman.”
Realizing that another person joined their company, you turned towards the man who looked vaguely familiar from the pictures Jake had sent you. Not to mention, you remembered Natasha’s remark from earlier that Jake would show up with someone else.
“Rooster, right?” You stepped away from Jake’s embrace and shook Bradley’s hand in greeting. Jake merely sighed and crossed his arms.
“Bradley’s fine.” He faced the rest of the group. “By the way, am I the only one that felt really awkward just standing here, watching those two?”
Mumbles echoed all around. “No, you’re not.” Still slightly by the display of the too-long-hug.
A sigh left Jake, who placed an arm around your shoulder. “Don’t listen to the others. And the words of the chicken shouldn’t be trusted. I hope those knuckleheads treated you right.”
You shrugged. “It was fun. I was this close to reveal your darkest secrets for a slice of a good ol’ fashioned apple pie made by … Phoenix, was it?”
“There’ll be no revealing. And no pie,” Jake interjected before pointing at Natasha. “You’ve already been in the company of Phoenix and the goon squad for less than an hour and Nat already found out your weakness for sweets,” he whispered against your neck. “At least you didn’t have to be subjected to the likes of Rooster here.” A shiver coursed through his body. “I shudder at the thought of you having to listen to him at first. He’ll probably want to talk about his caterpillar of a moustache.”
A languid smirk drew on Bradley’s lips as he stroked his mentioned facial hair. “Very funny. You jealous?”
You tilted your head at their teasing. “You have some weird fixation on Bradley’s facial hair. Didn’t you talk on the phone about-”
Abruptly, Jake took you by the hand and dragged you to the bar counter. “Let’s get some food into you. Your blood sugar’s getting awfully low. Someone’s getting tired already.”
“You’re being such a grump, Jake.”
Jake leaned against the counter. “I’m not. I’m just making sure you’re getting some nachos into you, darlin’.”
“You need to be nicer. We both know you’re more of a sweetheart than this.”
He rolled his eyes. “I have a reputation to uphold. And don’t let yourself be bribed by the others.” Jake turned to Penny. “A basket of nachos for this one, Penny?” You rolled your eyes at seeing Jake point at the top of your head.
There was something about Penny’s playful glance that warmed you upon first meeting. The woman nudged her head at Jake. “Be careful with this one.”
With mischief in your eyes, you stole a glance at him. “I know. This one … has been trouble for as long as I can remember.”
“Hey!” Jake uttered in mock outrage before he did introductions. “Penny, that’s Y/N. She’s my friend,” he said, placing his hand on your back.
“And here I thought I was your best friend.”
Jake hushed any further confessions, whispering, “But don’t tell Javy.”
You turned to Penny with a smile. “See? He’s such a big softie.”
Penny smirked. “I’m starting to. Where are you from?”
“Moved around a lot as a kid. Dad’s an Air Force pilot.” You waved towards him. “We grew up together in Texas. But I live in New York.”
Penny’s eyes lit up at the mention. “I’ll get you some cheese dip.”
“Thanks.”
Jake watched Penny wander off with a speculative gaze. “Someone’s making friends quickly.”
“It’s okay. I’ll teach you my ways,” you said only half-teasingly and stroked Jake’s arm. Your hand lingered on his muscles. Wait, were they flexing? “Woah, what happened to your arm, dude?”
Jake’s voice turned concerned. “Why? What’s wrong?”
There was something akin to awe in your voice. “Your bicep feels like it’s going to rip through your shirt.”
His shoulders were shaking when he chuckled. There was something about Jake turning his head to hide his blushing cheeks that stunned you even to this day. “You’re such a smartass.”
“I’m serious. Someone’s really working out, huh?” You mumbled to yourself, “This could make a girl feel weak in the knees.”
“Okay, you need food,” Jake said with a resolute mindset, before calling over your shoulder, “Thanks, Penny.”
He pushed the basket towards your elbow. “Get some chips into you.” Jake just watched you munch on your crispy snack. “Speaking of food, you want to join me and the group to some Barbecue this weekend?”
You barely lifted your head. “Barbecue? Special occasion?”
“Rooster’s uncle Maverick is celebrating his birthday-”
“Woah, hold your horses, Jake.”
You raised your hands. Either to stop Jake from continuing or to restart your own brain. “Come again? Maverick?” Your hands hovered over your mouth, as you mumbled, “You’re inviting me to Maverick’s birthday barbecue party? I don’t feel prepared for this.”
Jake groaned. “Oh great, I forgot your dad is such a Maverick fanboy. Of course.” He closed his eyes in a mixture of misery and defeat.
“Jake,” you breathed in deeply and covered his shoulders with your hands, mindful of not dropping nacho dust on his shirt. “Jake,” you began again, “I’ve never told you this, but this is the first time when I realized how absolutely invaluable you are to me as a best friend.”
“I’m seriously regretting telling you this.”
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You nibbled on your lip. “I think I scared Jake off with my … how do I say it … domineering admiration for Maverick. I’m getting the feeling he’s embarrassed of me. You have no idea how quickly he dashed the moment we arrived here.”
Natasha appeared nonchalant at your worries while she took a bite from her noodle salad on her paper plate. “Not possible. I’ve only met you yesterday and can affirm that man couldn’t be closer to you. Hangman was probably held up by something. Or he’s just elevating his testosterone level with Rooster again. You met the birthday kid already?”
“Nope.” At the mention, your hands tightened around the food container.
A soothing smile tugged on Natasha’s lips. “Deep breaths. You can’t miss him.” She pointed outside to the backyard. “He’s the guy at the grill, in the sunglasses and Hawaiian shirt. If he has a mustache, you’ve gone too far.”
“Got it.” You exhaled quietly and reminded yourself under your breath, “No mustache, Hawaiian shirt.”
“You’ll survive, don’t worry.” Natasha looked behind her. “Rooster, take her with you. She wants to meet the birthday man in question.”
“Sure.” Bradley stepped forward and offered his arm.
Your body acted on pure instinct.
“Holding my hand, alright, that’s fine.”
You only mouthed in gratitude, “Thank you.”
They walked a few steps onto the lawn when Bradley looked around. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
“Nat told me he was probably wrestling in the mud with you to assert his dominance.” You cleared your throat when you realized something. “And not my boyfriend.”
“Whatever you say. Just making sure where you two stand if he sees us standing together, holding hands.”
“Jake Seresin is not my dad,” you said absentmindedly when a dark-haired man caught your eye. Your throat felt dry. “Is that him?”
“As everyone keeps telling me.” Bradley approached the man standing behind the grill. “I found someone who wants to send their birthday wishes, Mav.”
Maverick revealed a crooked smirk. “Is that so?” You could feel his curious gaze through his sunglasses. “You’re a new face.”
“Um, yeah. I’m Jake’s friend.”
“Hangman has friends?”
“I know it’s a first for everybody,” you admitted. Knowing that Bradley and Jake were at least on speaking terms, and with Jake inviting you to Maverick’s barbecue party, you elaborated, “He needs some time to let people get close.”
Bradley gasped. “You don’t say.”
You focused on Maverick. “A few days ago, Jake invited me to your birthday. Hope that’s okay. I brought you peach cobbler as a present.”
At the mention, Bradley’s head whipped around. “Jesus, why didn’t you just go with that?”
Maverick moved his glasses until they laid atop his head and his eyes were uncovered. “You had me at cobbler.” He rubbed his hands against his jeans. “Bradley, you mind taking over the grill for a bit?”
“Fine. Get me a beer along the way?”
“Sure.” Maverick faced you again when he led you towards the table filled with food. “I didn’t catch your name?”
Just being in Maverick’s company felt surreal. You tried to restrain yourself from appearing too much like a crazy person.
“Um, Y/N … L/N. You’re Maverick?” Nervously, you stroked a curl of hair behind your ear. Even saying that name while standing right in front of him felt out of this world.
“Pete’s just fine.” His expression turned inquisitive. “Did Hangman tell you stories or did I miss something?”
You swallowed thickly. “My dad’s a big fan of yours. He’s a pilot in the Air Force. Told me stories ever since I was a kid. Your flight maneuvers have been legendary.”
He smiled at the devotion in your voice. “Still are.” You adored that playful glint in his eyes still shining through.
“Definitely. You probably get this all the time.”
“Want a beer?” After seeing you nod, he gave you a bottle. “Sometimes. Although, that kind of reverie I’m not used to.”
To calm your nerves, you downed some alcohol. “Really? Okay, I’ll try to control myself. However, Iceman’s skills were far-” Your eyes widened at your blabbing mouth before you covered it. “I’m sorry, too much liquid courage.”
Pete—even thinking that name felt strange—released guffaws of laughter at your gaffe. “Hey, it’s still my birthday!”
“I know, I’m sorry. Happy birthday, Ma-Pete.”
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~ Jake POV ~
“Hey, Hangboy, I need to have a word with you,” Jake heard Natasha’s hard voice a few feet away from them as he hung out with the boys. Despite that, the concept of strength in numbers didn’t make him feel safe, judging by her vehemence.
He swallowed at the dark glare in Nat’s eyes. “Vernacular?”
Natasha didn’t appreciate the humor and crossed her arms, letting uncomfortable silence fester around them.
Jake pressed his lips together. “Bad timing?”
“Someone ever say you’re a bad friend?”
Without hesitation, he replied dryly, “You. Every morning when I show up to work.”
“I had to send Bradley in Y/N’s direction because she was nervous about meeting Maverick.”
He groaned at the thought, throwing his head back. “Oh, poor Y/N. Being forced onto the company of that dull-stache? Sounds horrible.” Jake checked his surroundings, hoping to pick them up.
There was something about Natasha’s innocent eyes, with murder in her eyes, that unsettled him deeply.
“You make me want to punch you in the gut. And you know I grew up with brothers. I know how to make it look like an accident.”
Jake dropped the drink he was holding on a nearby table. “I have a plan.”
Natasha tilted her head in fascination. “Wow, your brain can actually do that? Could’ve fooled me. What does that even look like?”
He drew nearer at the sound of her challenge. “It’s called giving each other space. Did I miss something or why are you so gung-ho when it comes to Y/N? Do we need to have a talk?”
“Five minutes in her company and I already know how she’s too good for you.”
Something bitter settled in his stomach at the mere mention. As if he didn’t already know. He smiled tensely. “Thanks for the reminder, Phoenix. Do I need to save her from Rooster?”
Natasha waved a hand. “Not to worry. Y/N is having fun with Bob.”
His mind went blank, trying to process her words. Jake pursed his lips, feeling confused. “Wait—w—why—what are you saying? Bob? Bob with the glasses? Or is there another Bob I should know?”
Natasha hummed, analyzing his reaction. She chose to unnerve him further by chuckling maniacally. “Cake stand. Have fun.” And with that she left.
Jake whipped his head around and narrowed his eyes. The food area instantly caught his eye. Y/N stood with Bob and was laughing uproariously. It felt X-Files-strange to watch that anomaly. Y/N arched her back and patted Bob’s shoulder, with a plate of cake slice in her hand.
Feeling perturbed by the macabre reality, Jake imagined Y/N being into Bob of all people. He frowned at that scenario, whispering, “Bob?”
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~ Y/N POV ~
You held your stomach. Your cheeks were hurting from uncontrollable laughter, as you were trying to breathe. “Oh my God, Bob, that’s so-”
Jake inched closer with a small smile on his face. “What’s so funny?” He draped his arm over Y/N’s shoulder and reached for her dessert plate, either so she wouldn’t drop it or to have a taste himself. Without looking at him, you placed it into his hands.
You took a deep breath to calm yourself. “Why didn’t you tell me that Bob is so funny?”
Jake swallowed before coughing. “You learn something new every day. Still waters, huh?”
Bob smiled awkwardly.
Upon seeing his reaction, you spoke up, “I always hated that saying. Bob’s an absolute sweetheart.” To reinforce your point to him, you rubbed Bob’s shoulder.
Bob adjusted his glasses while blushing. “I try my best, ma’am.”
“Bob!” You chuckled in mock outrage, swatting lightly against his chest.
He nodded with a small smile. “Yes, Y/N, affirmative.”
“We’re getting to know each other. I just found out that Bob’s from Montana and his momma used to be a Grizzlies mascot. Personally, I’m more of a Saints girl, but to each their own.”
Jake groaned, with his mouth full. “I’m eating here,” he muttered indignantly. Jake swallowed his food. “What did I ever do to you? The last time we did this, we had the Cowboys/Saints-gate.”
You leaned your head back against Jake’s chest, patting his cheek consolingly. “He’s such a big baby.”
Bob pressed his lips together. “Uh, I think I hear my name. I need to say hello to Maverick real quick.”
You reached out with your arm. “Oh, do put your feelers out if the birthday guy is still fine with me after I was blabbing my mouth about g-loc and Iceman’s record stats.”
“He’s probably fine.”
“But still!” You called out against his back as he left.
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It was turning out to be a quiet evening, you realized, rubbing your feet.
Jake stepped into the living room, drying his moist hair with a towel. He leaned his shoulder against the doorway, watching you. “Would you look at that.”
You were transfixed on the film playing on Jake’s TV while you snuggled deeper under the towel on the couch. “What’s up?”
Jake decided to join you on the couch and put your feet on his lap. He spread his legs comfortably. Unconsciously, warming your heels. “You know, feels like old times. You sitting on my couch, taking all the blankets.”
You covered your eyes, with a groan, and leaned your head back. “You make me sound like a mooch. I offered to go to a hotel.”
“Hey, that’s not what I meant.” Jake chuckled. You felt the warmth of his hand when he reached for yours. Before you could blink, Jake stared deeply into your eyes and interlaced your fingers together. With a smile, he whispered, “I missed this. Feels like old times.”
With blushing cheeks, you felt your skin tingling at sitting so close to him. It was moments like these that made you question the nature of your friendship. You swallowed at seeing Jake’s sage-green eyes sparkle. His soft smile was making it hard to breathe.
You whispered, “Me too.”
“You know what else I miss? And what I can’t stop thinking about?”
You swallowed thickly, licking your lips. Feeling uncertain by his thought process, you slowly asked, “Which is what?”
Jake inched closer. “How I used to do this.” He tilted his head, rubbing his wet hair into the crook of your neck.
“You jerk!” You giggled from his attack. It made him seem more like a dog than a human when he was content in brushing his wet hair against your skin.
He grumbled lowly, as his warm breath puffed against your skin. “But this feels really nice. I could stay like this forever,” he said with a hum.
Your phone emitted a notification sound. “You’re an idiot.” Slapping against his forehead to push him away, deep chuckles followed you while your focus switched to your phone.
“You hungry? I could whip up some chicken teriyaki for us? I think I got some sauce in the cabinet. I know how much you love your teriyaki.” He groaned while standing up.
Giggles left your mouth when you read the incoming messages.
Jake turned his head. “Your girlfriends miss you already?”
You bit your lip. “No, it’s Bob just being sweet.”
Blinking slowly, Jake tried to process the words you just uttered. He cleared his throat. Jake’s voice turned slightly high-pitched. “Come again?” He coughed, placing his hands on his waist. “Are we talking about the same Bob? Bob Bob?”
You hummed in agreement without looking up.
He mumbled, “Didn’t know you guys already exchanged numbers. That’s quick, … right?”
With a curious gaze, you looked up. “What do you mean?”
Jake paused. “What do you mean?” He licked his lips, backtracking a bit. “With, you know, Bob … being a total sweetheart.”
You smiled fondly at the memory of the barbecue. “Well, he is. I really loved talking to him.”
With grumbling breaths, Jake puffed his chest. “Really?”
You shrugged your shoulders. “Yep, it was fun.”
“As you keep mentioning,” Jake murmured.
“I did some thinking,” you spoke, “and I was wondering, how would you feel about doing karaoke night with your squad?”
At first, Jake had a look of appreciation which took a turn to disappointment. “But karaoke night is our thing,” he said, pointing between them.
“I know, but this could be like a bonding thing. You’d get to know them, I’d get to know them and we could have fun together. Win-win!”
He sighed deeply, letting his shoulders drop. “You’re far too invested in this.”
“I don’t want them to remember me as the friend who didn’t want to bother with them.”
Jake’s voice turned into a soothing murmur. “They wouldn’t dare think that.”
With a whisper, you enunciated, “Not if we do karaoke night. It’s going to be fun, I promise.”
184 notes · View notes
biteofcherry · 1 year
Text
Shiny Trinket
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Heart of Ruby Masterlist
part of Ruby Garden series
Dom!Ari Levinson x submissive female reader
summary: Don't ever think that your Dom doesn't take your opinions into consideration. Ari's about to thoroughly review your small suggestion about the Ruby Garden club's interior.
warnings: Dom/sub dynamics; bdsm; Dom!Ari Levinson; power imbalance; safe, sane and consensual; established relationship; mild bondage; use of sex toys; explicit s**ual content; very light objectification;
word count: 3.6k
In response to the pleading I wrote something with Dom!Ari to start the weekend. So grab a drink, don't drink it while reading, but hydrate afterwards as aftercare is important even for readers 😂
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Head resting on Ari's shoulder, you mindlessly play with the button of his partly-open shirt as your gaze trails across the space. Soft timbre of Ari's voice as your Dom talks to another member is soothing enough that you let your thoughts simply wander.
Dark tones on the walls, which at first sight may look like simple black paint, are in fact a velvety wallpaper encrusted with decorative swirls. BDSM equipment in red leather and old-wood styled designs is mixed with black, French-style furniture; like the curved dresser which drawers are filled with small fun implements, from nipple clamps to gags.
Ornamental iron hanging from the ceilings in various spots around the club serves as rafters to which poor bottoms can be cuffed. The chandeliers, most in red or reddish-gold, a decorative echo of old French districts.
No wonder Ari feels here so at ease. Not only because he owns the place, but because he made it a much kinkier, lush reflection of the New Orleans, which used to be his home. 
You like the quite luxurious feel of the Ruby Garden, with the enticing shades of black and titular red, wood and upholstery that sometimes make you fantasize about past century brothels or private clubs where kink started to bloom amongst bohemian passions.
But there's something missing. At least according to your eye.
"It could use some sparkles," you mutter under your breath, not fully aware you said it out loud.
Ari's legs beneath you jerk up slightly, nudging you as he tilts his head and glances at you.
"Hmm? What were you saying, mon Chérie?" He asks.
Ari never loses his focus on you, even if he's engaged in a conversation with someone else, his instincts are always zeroed in on you.
It's endearing, but sometimes also scary. Especially in moments when you'd rather not have your Dom sense you're about to get into trouble.
"Nothing important," you shrug. "Just that something shiny could be added to the club's interior."
"What?" Ari arches a single brow, now fully looking at you.
"Hey, I find the club very chic and stylish," you playfully tug on the collar of Ari's shirt, "but even with the addition of red it's still mostly masculine. A few shiny trinkets here or there could level it up."
Okay, so maybe you like sparkling things a bit.
Maybe a lot.
Maybe the vanity at your place is stacked with four jewelry boxes that beside your usually worn jewelry contain lots of broken strings of colorful beads, which you didn't have a heart to throw away because they were so pretty and shiny.
"Shiny decorations?" At first Ari looks at you as if you lost your mind, but his eyes slowly darken as he deliberates on something.
You tilt yourself back warily, as much as Ari's heavy arm securing your back allows. You don't trust that look on his face, when his features harden and evil kind of mischief ignites in his blue eyes.
When he gives you that look, it usually means you're about to suffer his wicked ways.
"I think I have to seriously consider such a proposition." Ari hums, tracing his fingertips down your arm.
He gently takes your fingers in his and lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles like a gentleman. Reminding you of the movie vampires you once compared him to, saying he had that southern charm blinding his victim into compliance so that he could rip her apart and leave her body in the bayou.
Ari had laughed then; rich and genuine amusement that carried through his apartment and made your heart flutter in happiness.
Then he'd tied you to a reupholstered Bergere chair and wrecked you to a point that you prayed for being dumped dead in the bayou.
So now that he's dropping into his charming deception again, your heart jumps in reasonable fear. And your pussy clenches.
"Stand up for me, Chérie." He helps you up on your feet, moving along with you, until he's towering over you.
"Remove your clothing, please." Though he's polite, you know it wasn't a request, but an order.
One you don't have much trouble complying, despite there always being that first wave of embarrassment when you undressed fully in the club, since there were always curious eyes around you.
"Wrists, please."
It's an instinct, to place your hand in Ari's grip without hesitation. Even if you're wary of his creative type of evil, you trust him deeply.
Ari's leather cuffs are already in place, always put on before you enter the club floor. Now he links them together, binding your hands. Then he lifts your arms above your head.
Your eyes follow the line of Ari's arms as he stretches them - one hand holding your bound wrists, while the other reaches for a chain hanging from the rafters above.
Uh-oh.
He chains you in place, pulling you up 'till you're balancing on the balls of your feet.
Ari tenderly runs his fingertips along your arms and down your sides, reminding you of his presence and care, despite having just thrown you off balance.
"A second, if you please." He smiles at you, but it's not really reassuring. Not at the moment when you see the wicked hunger gleaming in his eyes.
Ari sways you gently, chuckling when you squeak as your feet slide across the floor.
He moves past you, walking a few steps away. You can hear amused huffs coming from the few people who are around, including the Master with whom Ari was speaking before.
You try focusing on the sounds of what your Dom may be preparing, but the mixture of the club's noises drowns out the quiet slide of a drawer being pulled open.
Ari doesn't take long, but enough for you to start stewing in images running wild.
There's always an element of surprise (to not say shock) when being with Ari. No matter how many details you talk over before starting some scenes, your Master always twists it up and makes your head spin.
He stands in front of you again, steadying your body with a hand on your hip. He lets his gaze roam over you; slowly, so that you feel the burning attention rousing each part of your body.
"I'm always open to suggestions," he says, squeezing your flesh, "so I'll happily consider the option of adding more sparkling elements to the interior."
"But I'd rather keep with the color scheme, okay?" He asks you, as if he was really talking about simple interior design.
You know he's not. You can practically see the cogs in his devious mind twirling rapidly, creating a plan of your demise to the tune of his evil laugh.
You swallow nervously, nodding your head hesitantly.
Then Ari takes something out of his pocket and your eyes widen.
The chain that dangles on his finger isn't long. It has three red, crystal hearts placed evenly across it. And a pair of biting as fuck nipple clamps - each on one end.
"Oh no, no, no, no!" You shake your head, scrambling away as far as your chain allows, which isn't far.
Ari sighs.
He takes one step to the side. Then lands a slap on your ass so solid, that the crack of it echoes through the club and the painful sting makes you jump forward with a shriek.
Rough fingers squeeze your chin harshly when Ari faces you again. his eyes hold a reprimand that's a hair away from punishment.
"Nipple clamps are not on your hard limits list." He reminds you. "Or has that changed?"
"N-no, Sir," you want to cast your eyes down, but with the way Ari's holding your chin you're forced to withstand the eye contact.
"Do you perhaps need to safeword?"
Though his voice is a low graze of displeasure, you know it's at your antics, because Ari is always - absolutely always - serious about consent and safewords.
"No, Sir," you don't hesitate in your answer, even though you know it's sealing your fate.
"Are you in the yellow range? Do we need to pause and talk?"
He would. Immediately. If you hinted at actual discomfort beyond what you could take for your Master.
But you were nowhere near that stage. You were simply fussy and maybe the tiniest bit bratty, which meant you were getting yourself in even more trouble.
"No, Sir," you grumble in defeat.
"Ah, so you're being whiny just for the sake of it?" Ari releases your chin, but his fingers curl instead around the back of your neck as he steps so close to you that his clothes graze your naked skin.
"I don't like nipple clamps!" You blurt out, unable to stop the petulance from spilling.
"Tough." Ari shrugs. "Because I like putting them on you."
"I like how you squeak when I attach them," he murmurs, running his fingertips under the swell of your breasts. "How you pant as you breathe through the pain for me."
"I love how wet you get from them," he pinches your nipples, at the same time capturing your lips in a kiss.
Your yip melts on Ari's tongue, dispersing into a moan the longer he holds your nipples between his fingers.
You'd tell him it's not the clamps themselves that do it to you, but the fact Ari makes you suffer them. Also because his voice, warm and raspy, is like prelude to sex itself and you would get wet and needy from his talk alone.
But any coherent thought leaves your brain when Ari's mouth descends down your neck and onto your breasts. He cups each in his big hands, squeezing. Then his mouth is on one of your nipples, sucking and tormenting it into a stiff point.
He lavishes the other tit with the same voracious attention, tugging on the stiffened peak with his teeth, before releasing it.
Straightening up, Ari holds your gaze as he rubs your poor, tortured nipples with his fingers, wiping away excess of his own saliva, so that the clamps would hold on better.
And then he's attaching the first one; impish glee lighting up his eyes at your hiss.
By the time he secures the other clamp, adjusting the tightness, you're trying to steady your ragged breath and not close your thighs, because your folds are getting puffy and wet.
"See? Shiny." Ari mocks you, flicking one of the crystal hearts hanging from the thin chain attaching both clamps.
The impact, however minimal, tugs on your nipples, sending another zap straight to your core.
"But I think, if we're going for a proper shiny ornament to decorate my club-" Ari's mouth curves in a smirk as he reaches into his pocket once again- "it needs to be opulent."
He lifts his hand up and the first thing that you see is a red crystal heart between his fingers.
Ari turns his palm up and a wave of heat washes over you. A butt plug. Very reasonable in size, but it doesn't change the fact you're still squirmy and shy when your Dom initiates anal play.
You almost caused him a laughing hiccup when you tried to talk your way out of it, by blurting out it's unhygienic.
In moments like that, when you knew Ari was going to push against your resistance, you considered moving everything into a hard limit list. Though Ari had the skill to use kissing alone as a damn torment.
You curse under your breath when Ari moves to stand behind you and kicks your feet wider apart. You catch a small audience glancing your way, quickly shifting your own gaze to the floor.
There's a snick of a bottle being open and then Ari's finger slides between your buttcheeks, smearing a dollop of lube around your rim.
The plug is coated in lube as well, easing its way inside.
Your breath quickens, a whimper spilling on your lips when Ari pushes the toy in.
"Push back, Chérie. That's it," he encourages you.
While his voice is soft and the hand steadying your hip is reassuring, the pressure against your tightest hole is merciless.
“There you go,” Ari forces the whole thing in, tracing the heart-shaped securing end with his finger. “So pretty and sparkly.” 
He pats your ass lightly, rounding you again. A glint of recognition in his eyes tells you that he's acutely aware that you’re settling into every sensation, every part of the scene that’s unfolding. 
Ari knows your body is throbbing with growing need, that you’re focusing on the feeling of your nipples being crushed and your ass being stretched; as well on the helplessness of being bound and naked in front of him. In front of other people, too. And he knows being at his mercy (while also deeply certain of remaining in his care) tops your arousal. 
Your gaze is a little dazed already as you look up at him, a blissed sigh leaving your lips when Ari’s touch marks your body.
He’s tracing lines along your sides, moving closer to caress your back and then up your arms. He draws patterns with his fingertips, then squeezes your ass with both hands. 
Breath hitches in your lungs as Ari crouches down, his hot breath tickling your belly while his large hands grip your thighs. 
For a long moment nothing happens, just Ari keeping his mouth an inch from your wet core as he slides his hands up and down your legs, each time moving them a little higher, a little further between your thighs. 
When his tongue flicks against your clit, your whole body jerks with sensation. The chain clinks, your feet scrambling against the floor, and the heart-shaped weights on the nipple clamps tug harsher. 
“Shh,” Ari coos, wrapping his arms around your thighs to help you steady. 
He works wicked eights on your swelling nub, his tongue putting spells that drive you surely to the edge, but keep away from finishing your torment. 
When he pulls back, you have half a mind to glare at him. The fact he doesn’t immediately retaliate with a swat to your clit only increases your worry. Turns you on even more, as well. 
Ari reaches into his pocket once again. It takes your glazed eyes a few seconds to make out the glint of the implement within his palm. Similar to a minimalistic, curved brooch, with a single red, crystal heart. 
“Oh God, Sir.” You nearly weep, tugging on the chain binding your hands. “Please no, Sir, please, please.”
Ari doesn’t show an ounce of irritation this time, he’s too smug about drawing reactions from your body. Though you are certain that the clit clamp he has prepared for you is for his own amusement, not your own pleasure.  
“Color?” He simply asks, referring to the traffic color system that’s the classic and most basic form of stating your state when in a bdsm scene.
You whine again, because you can’t lie to him and because you’re not even distressed. 
“Green,” you admit, pouting.
You try tilting your ass back, moving your sensitive parts away from the wicked Master with his stupid implements of evil. A smack on the back of your thigh has you yelping and scooting back forward. You earn another slap for glaring. 
“FuckjesusohgodSirfuck-” you babble, eyes screwing shut as Ari pinches your puffy folds together and clamps them.
Your engorged clit is fully exposed in the tear-shaped hole, its sides squeezing it only a tad lighter than the torture devices do your nipples. The heart shaped crystal falls right atop your exposed clit and you know it will bump it with every move. 
Sucking in a breath, you press your lips together and still your body. If you won’t move a single muscle then it will be alright. 
Moderately alright, since you’re suffering already, but better than the-
Your mouth falls open on a cry and your whole body jolts when Ari pats your clit with an open hand. 
Your core burns, walls fluttering rapidly. Your ass clenches too, which in turn leads to a dirty reminder that it's stretched around a plug. Movement causes the chain between nipple clamps to sway, tugging on your abused peaks. 
The heat inside you grows, blood rushing through you and buzzing in your head. 
Lips parted, as moan after moan trickles out, you fall deeper into sensations spreading through your body. Your mind gets a little cloudy, shutting out everything that isn’t connected to your body.
Ari’s touch becomes a beacon, drawing your attention to wherever he points. Light strokes of his hands, instead of soothing your body, escalate the madness. His mouth joins the torment, kisses and bites overloading your senses. 
You keen loudly when he brushes the back of his hand against your trapped, swollen folds. You don’t even register the hum of delight from your audience when Ari taps the crystal over your clit and it bounces, making you cry out.
“Who would’ve thought that a shiny trinket is so whiny?” Ari mocks.
You, amusing him further, whine again, your head lolling forward. 
Ari’s fingers push between your lips, coarse pads rubbing against your tongue. He drives two, then three, almost to the back of your throat. Then withdraws them, a string of saliva stretching between your mouth and his fingers. 
He brings his wet fingers to your clit again, circling it oh so slowly, then flicking the crystal over and over again. 
He gives you short reprieve, enough for the pulsing in your clit to marginally subside. Enough that when he finally takes the damn clamp off, you don’t come immediately from the sheer return of blood to your sensitive parts.
You’re nearly panting and doing your best to keep your legs spread, because if you closed your thighs an inch, it surely would be a stimulation enough you’d orgasm.
Which, actually, is tempting as hell…
You don’t get to try it, however. Ari is pushing between your thighs; pants undone and cock sheathed. 
He grips one of your legs below the knee and pulls it up, wrapping it around his hip. Bending his legs slightly, Ari guides the head of his cock into your pussy. Standing still for a moment, he moves his now free hand to grip your ass and then plunges in one, swift stroke.
The stretch is maddening enough to have you push up on your tiptoes, but Ari drives in to the hilt, sinking himself so deeply that your oversensitive clit crushes into his pelvis.
You come with a scream, body convulsing in pleasure so high it’s almost painful. 
Ari holds you through it, a vein in his neck pulsing as he forces himself to stay still and not fuck into the clenching heat of your cunt. 
When you slump forward, head resting in the crook of Ari’s neck, he teases loud enough for your hazy brain to register and for your audience to hear:
“So much trouble with shiny trinkets. You poke it and it immediately breaks apart.” 
Your incoherent mewl against his neck makes Ari huff a laugh. 
He kisses your shoulder softly then starts moving. He keeps the few first thrusts slow, finding the best angle for his own pleasure. Then steadily increases the pace and the force. 
You start responding, as each push jolts your body and the embers of arousal ignite into flames again. The clamps on your nipples are still attached, pulling on your peaks with each roll of Ari’s hips. His hand on your ass angles, long digits resting atop the crystal of the anal plug and tapping it repeatedly. 
“Oh! Ohh!” Your head tilts back, cheek squishing into your outstretched arm. 
Ari tugs on the butt plug, cock driving into you harder. Among the fizz in your head, you can hear faint jingling - of the chains on the rafter, of the chain swaying between your tits, of the buckle in Ari’s belt. 
There’s also the pitiful babble coming from your own mouth: begging and prayers, all at once. 
Ari’s grunts elicit a special type of pleasure, a certain fulfillment at knowing your Dom is satisfied. That you give him this pleasure. For a submissive like you it’s a gratification greater than your own orgasm. 
Though you sure love the shattering climax that Ari rips from you when he rams into your pussy at a particular angle.
The squeeze of your walls topples him over soon after you. The feelings of his cock twitching inside you makes you sigh in contentment. It always does, whether he finishes in one of your holes, or in your hand. 
You don’t fully register the tenderly spoken “I’ve got you, mon amour,” when Ari slides out of you a few heartbeats later. 
It’s the rush of blood returning to your nipples after he takes off the clamps, that shakes you out of daze. The zap of pain surges to your core in a twisted ripple. 
Ari rubs your nipples gently, easing the ache. Kisses each tip. 
He eases out the plug from your hole, then gathers all the toys into a small zip-lock bag to take it cleaning later. One strong arm around your middle, Ari uses his other hand to unchain you. There’s no stumbling as you sink boneless into his arms, Ari's an expert in catching and holding you. 
With your head resting against Ari’s chest when he sits down on a small sofa, after wrapping you in a soft blanket, you focus on the pounding of his heart beneath your ear and don’t hear the passing comment of one of the Masters about it being a fun idea to have someone be made into a trinket once a week. 
Ari doesn’t mind this type of recurring decoration at the club. 
As for the kind of shiny trinkets you liked, Ari decides on buying you a few sun catchers to hang in the windows, so you could chase the shards of rainbow scattered on the floor and walls.   
625 notes · View notes
ihavemanyhusbands · 4 months
Text
Vidas Pasadas (Past Lives)
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PART ONE: THE SHOW MUST GO ON
Mini-Series Masterlist
Also on AO3
Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Latina!Reader (Spanish speaking)
WC: 2.5k words
Series Summary: Before the great war, you were an actress—A good friend and frequent co-star of Cooper Howard. After two hundred years in cryogenic stasis, you’re being sent to New Vegas as a performer, but on the way there, things don’t go quite as planned.
Warnings: MINORS DNI, series is 18+, canon typical violence, some angst, friends to lovers-ish?, some miscommunications, eventual smut, chem use, there’ll be some Spanish in there for sure (with translations), cursing, the ghoul being the ghoul, aaaaand that’s all I can think of for now but lmk if anything else!
A/N: This is INCREDIBLY self indulgent, but imagine yourself in these shoes for a moment why don’t you? :) hope you enjoy! pt.1 dedicada ao meu amor @the-devils-littlegirl <33
——————-
The holotape was a little over two hundred years old, but it was in relatively good condition. It contained a talk show interview with two actors who were promoting a Western film. The image was in black and white, fuzzy with time, and the voices sounded tinny. 
“So tell me, both of you, what’s it been like working on so many pictures together?” The interviewer, Holden Boyd, asked. “This must be — what, the fourth one?”
“That’s right. You know, Holden, in all my years in this industry, I have never met anyone more professional,” Cooper Howard, the handsome hero of the film, turned to you, sitting beside him. “But she also knows how to keep things balanced between work and play. We laugh a lot behind the scenes, actually.”
“Really?” Holden asked, leaning forward with renewed interest. “Well, that doesn’t surprise me, you two have some incredible chemistry on screen.”
“Well, gee, Coop, do we really?” You couldn’t help but grin at him, making him chuckle. “Maybe that’s why we keep getting cast together.”
“And how’s his Spanish? Are you teaching him any?” Holden asked you. 
“I’ve certainly tried,” you said, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “Say something, why don’t you?”
Cooper’s smile turned sheepish, shaking his head. “Errr… No muy bueno, pero intento.”
His thick southern accent made you and Holden laugh, invariably charmed. In the background, claps and cheers from the live audience, equally smitten. Cooper always knew how to win people over, it was like second nature to him.
“He’s a natural!” Holden exclaimed. “Say the line Coop, you know the one.”
Cooper cleared his throat, squared his shoulders and pretended to point a gun, his expression fully serious.“Feo, Fuerte, y Formal.”
An eruption of cheers, louder than before. You clapped in delight, smiling ear to ear as you bumped your shoulder against his playfully.
“Ah, I see you’ve found our tapes,” the mechanical voice of vault thirty-one’s overseer startled you. 
You looked down at… it, still not used to interacting with a motorized brain suspended in some sort of tank. Bud, you thought it said its name was. Vaguely familiar, but your memories were still hazy, having been in cryogenic stasis for so long. 
“Why do you have these?” You asked.
“Everything pertaining to Hollywood was preserved for archival purposes. Feel free to watch anything you like,” Bud said. “We have all of your films, as well as interviews, press clippings, and pictures.”
You looked back at the screen, crossing your arms over your chest and trying not to shudder. You had me, too. You thought, stomach turning. A shiny toy shelved away for later use.
You’d gotten a spot in vault thirty one in exchange for compliance — after all, the future would need entertainers, right? And the nostalgia factor would just sell so well. You would be totally set for whatever came… or so they’d said.
It hadn’t seemed like a terrible deal at the time, but you hadn’t truly realized how tremendous the losses would be. Or how much things could veer off course in two centuries. 
Cooper was gone, and so was everyone else you had ever cared for. Bud hadn’t said what happened to your former co-star, but it didn't need to. 
 You had entered the vault all by yourself, with no family or spouse to consider. And just a few days ago, you had been greeted by that same loneliness when you’d emerged from the pod. 
Some things never changed, it seemed. Perhaps New Vegas wouldn’t be a terrible distraction, all things considered.
“Feels like it was only yesterday…” you said, keeping the melancholy out of  your voice.
“Doesn’t it? That’s the best part of the stasis pods. Keeps one fresh,” Bud said, chipper. “How’s your head feeling, by the way?”
“Better,” you sighed. “Barely any pain left.”
“Oh, good. You should be ready to travel to New Vegas in a couple more days. I’ve been in touch with a trusted courier that should be able to escort you there safely.”
A tinge of fear in your chest. “How… bad is it out there?”
“Well, er, it’s… not great. But we’ll get there! I’ve heard New Vegas has a lot more going for it than these parts,” Bud said quickly, not wanting to linger on the negative. “Vault twenty one, where you’ll be staying, was turned into a hotel. Lots of people passing by. I’m sure it’ll be easy for you to attract the crowds.” 
Stepping towards the projector, you ejected the holotape, unable to watch any more. The memories would consume you far too easily, if you let them. That life had crumbled to dust long ago, and there was nothing you could do to change that, either.
What other choice did you have but to trudge forward?
“For both our sakes, Bud, I really hope that’s true.”
————————————-
As with most things, Bud had severely understated just how bad things were on the surface. The sight of it had instantly struck you— Nothing was left but ruins and desert plains stretching as far as the eye could see. No one but you and the courier — a weathered, gruff looking middle-aged man — around for miles.
You’d left your vault suit behind in exchange for the clothes you’d worn when you first went in. You were also given a small survival pack, a tranquilizer gun, and a pip boy, but that was the extent of your belongings.
 The courier handed you a hat and an old scarf to cover yourself from the sun and the sand, instructing you to keep close before whirling around and starting to walk.
Did he even say what his name was? You couldn’t recall, but you were too busy being in shock to care too much.
It was all so unceremonious, unlike what you’d been used to in the past. No cars or any other mode of transportation, no roads to smoothly cruise on. No kind words offered for your departure, except for Bud’s overly enthusiastic Good luck! before opening the vault’s enormous door. 
“Say, how long do you think the… trip is going to take?” You asked, trying to keep your fear at bay. 
“Around three weeks, give or take. That is, if the weather holds and we keep a good pace during the day,” the courier said. “Can’t be out at night around these parts.”
You swallowed hard, wondering what sorts of dangers lurked out there. You had some stunt training, but no actual fighting skills. Hopefully, the tranq gun would be enough, but you also suspected your companion had far deadlier weapons.
Better to stay on his good side, you thought.
“First stop’s at a town called Filly. Got some quick business to take care of there, so we’ll be spending the night,” the courier continued when you didn’t respond. “Keep your head down and let me do the talking. Don’t want anybody to recognize you.”
You nodded, letting out a long sigh. 
“Hopefully they’ve got showers there,” you said, imagining how calming the hot stream of water might be. 
The courier looked at you over his shoulder, incredulous, and barked out a laugh. Your face heated up at his ridicule, mumbling something about vault dwellers to himself with a shake of his head. 
You walked in silence for the next couple of hours, trying to guess what area you might be passing through. Briefly, you wondered if the ruins of your old house still stood somewhere, and if you’d be able to find them. 
But you reminded yourself not to dwell on what no longer existed. 
Soon enough, you started to see signs of humanity. A few stragglers here and there, but the courier steered you in different directions whenever he spotted larger groups. Raiders, he’d told you, a grim look on his face.
 You hurried your step, wanting to put as much distance between you and them as possible. Bud had given you a very basic rundown of what you might encounter on the surface, but while some of it was hard to believe without seeing it firsthand, raiders did not fall under that category.
Still, despite the danger, at least you were reassured that you weren’t the only people left around. 
Filly was a ramshackle town made up of scraps;  A small testament of humanity’s endurance. Vendors were hawking questionable food and other wares at the outskirts of it, the tight pack of more bodies making you nervous. 
Your senses were invaded by smells and noises and even the occasional passerby bumping into you. Life was still brimming, as chaotic as it may seem. Somehow, it made you feel the smallest flicker of hope.
The courier led you through the crowd and down a rickety stairway towards a small square, where there was a little more room to move. The sun was beginning to set, bright tendrils of orange and gold tinting the sky. 
For a brief moment, you stopped to look at it, moved almost to tears by the simple beauty of a sunset. At least, that hadn’t changed either, and you vowed to never take them for granted again. 
“This way,” the courier said, urging you to move. 
Unbeknownst to you, someone had taken notice of the two of you. More specifically, the courier. A hit had been placed on him, worth three hundred caps. There was no reason given for it, but he hadn’t thought to ask questions, anyway. He didn’t much like meddling unnecessarily.
He surreptitiously followed behind, keeping his distance so you wouldn’t notice him. He already stuck out like a sore thumb, what with being a ghoul and all. But, like any bounty hunter worth his salt, he still knew how to lay low.
The courier led you into a repurposed building that rented out closet sized rooms. You paid with a few of the caps Bud had put in your survival pack, relieved that you wouldn’t have to share a room. 
The courier was curt but prudent, in his own way. You were just a task to him, and you knew he would protect you as best as he could because of it. You had nothing against him so far, but you didn’t want to take your chances regardless. 
“Stay in your room, I’m gonna head out for a bit. I’ll bring back some food,” he said, turning to leave.
“Wait!” You hurried behind him, out into the open, where it was growing darker. “Wouldn’t it be better to, uh, stick together?”
“It’s private business,” he grunted, annoyed. “Besides, you’ll be safer in there.”
“But—”
“Hey, you,” you heard from behind you, followed by a commanding whistle. “Sabinez, is it?”
The courier looked up, his eyes immediately widening. “Oh, fuck.”
You followed his gaze, finding a… cowboy. His face was mostly obscured underneath the brim of his hat, but his lack of a nose was still strikingly apparent. Radiation burns marred what little skin you could see, the rest covered in old, tattered leathers. 
A ghoul, from what Bud had described. The see-it-to-believe-it kind of danger. Your stomach dropped.
He was pointing his revolver at the courier – Sabinez –  finger about to squeeze the trigger.
“No, please!” You exclaimed, panicked. 
Foolishly, without even thinking about it, you stepped in front of him, arms extended in an attempt to further shield him. The ghoul raised his hairless eyebrows, both amused and surprised.
“I need him,” you said, heart beating so fast you feared it might leap out of your chest. “Please.”
“How sweet,” the ghoul said mockingly, one hand on his chest. “But as it turns out, sweetheart, I need him, too.”
Before you could react, he raised the barrel of the revolver infinitesimally and fired. A dizzying moment in which the bullet whizzed by your head, and Sabinez’s body slumped behind you, his blood spraying at your back. 
Any onlookers that had stuck around scattered to safety, not wanting to be next in line for whatever the ghoul had planned. You let out a choked sound, too shocked to even scream. Shuddering, you slowly looked over your shoulder, only to avert your gaze quickly.
“No,” you murmured, horrified. “No, no, no…Fuck!”
It was just your luck, encountering death the very first day you finally returned to the surface. You wondered if you should fall to your knees and beg for mercy, but your body refused to move.
The ghoul’s spurs clinked as he stepped towards you, and you raised your hands in surrender, keeping your eyes down.
“You the cargo?” He asked, tilting his head to one side in curiosity. “Let’s get a better look at’cha.”
You whimpered as he grasped one of your arms, his other hand tugging down the scarf that covered half your face. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, eyes roaming over your features.
“Look at me,” he ordered, voice low.
Swallowing hard, you finally dared to look up at him. Tears clung to your lashes, a stray one running down your cheek. He looked more skeletal up close, his eyes sunken in, cheekbones prominent, and of course there was the cavern where his nose would be. 
He removed your hat next, letting go of you and taking a step back. There was something in his expression you couldn’t quite decipher, but you felt a creeping sense of deja vu the longer you looked at him. 
“You…” he said, something like recognition in his voice, as well as disbelief.
“I–Please, I don’t know w-what he did to you but I don’t–” You started to babble, but he interrupted. 
“Where were y’all heading off to?”
“U-um, New Vegas, uh, sir?” You tried to smile placatingly, but it was watery and would slip away at any moment. 
Not only was it strange for him to see you alive and in the flesh, but you were also fearing him. He remembered your earnest smiles, genuinely pleased to see him. Then again, you hadn’t yet recognized who he was. 
He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted you to know, but he also didn’t really want to let you go on your own way. Plus, he’d just killed your only guide, so it was only fair that he took on the job and saw it through.
That way, he could try to find out more about all that had happened, without giving himself away.
“New Vegas, huh,” he mused, letting out a low whistle. “That’s a long ways away, especially if you don’t know where you’re goin’...But it’s your lucky night, sweetheart, ‘cus I just so happen to know the way.”
“R-really? I could pay you if you’d h-help me!” you said quickly, rummaging through your pack to show him some caps. “I’m not sure how much would be enough but… I’ll be making more once I start working.”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist now, we can do some negotiating later,” he drawled, lips curling in a smirk as he looked up at the building behind you. “Hope you don’t mind us bunking together.”
Your entire face heated up. “Uh, you can take his room. It’s already paid for.”
“Well, what a generous fella he was,” he said, tossing your stuff back at you. “Jus’ don’t come runnin’ when you get nightmares. I ain’t much of a cuddler.”
----
144 notes · View notes
theetherealbloom · 5 months
Text
BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM - CH.3
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Chapter 3: ​​Dutiful Daughter, All My Plans Were Laid
Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.
Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking Around, FLUFF, LOTS OF SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Oral Fem Receiving, Kissing, Barely any plot, NOT A SLOW BURN AT ALL, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content, Size Kink, Reader is “smaller” than Joel but no further descriptions, Breeding Kink, PWP (wrap it up), Body worship, declaring their love for each other, 
Word Count: 10k
A/N: THERE ARE SO MANY OF YOU… UHM, HI! We’re nearing the end of the mini-series. I believe I have one or two more chapters to write and then we’ll have the epilogue. Thank you for all the comments, reblogs and likes! I look forward to reading all the feedback from ya’ll, it really does give me the motivation to write. Thank you all again!!! 🤍☺️
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift
Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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As you lay there, wrapped in Joel's arms, you can't help but steal a glance at the small alarm clock on the nightstand. The glowing numbers tell you that it's nearly 3am, and as much as you don't want to leave the warmth of his bed and his embrace, you know that you can't stay forever.
Your dad is expecting you for breakfast in just a few hours, and the thought of him having a heart attack if you don't show up is enough to make you sit up and take notice.
"I don't wanna leave," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you snuggle closer to Joel, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his skin.
"I don't wanna let you go," Joel replies, his accent thick and heavy as he tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer still.
You can feel the heat of his body, the strength of his muscles, and the warmth of his embrace, and you know that you could stay there forever, wrapped up in him.
But reality calls, and you know that you can't ignore it forever.
"I wish we could stay like this forever," you say, your voice filled with longing and sadness.
"Me too, darlin'," Joel replies, his voice filled with emotion. "But we both know that we can't."
You nod, your heart heavy with the weight of the decision you both know you have to make.
"I guess I should get going," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
"I guess you should," Joel replies, his voice filled with regret.
As you reluctantly pull away from Joel, he surprises you by gently tugging you back into his embrace, his lips seeking yours in a kiss that is both passionate and intense. The taste of him lingers on your lips, a bittersweet reminder of the connection you share.
With a soft sigh, you finally gather the strength to untangle yourself from his arms, a pang of longing tugging at your heart as you begin to get dressed. Joel watches you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and tenderness, his southern drawl adding a soothing cadence to his words.
"Let me help you, darlin'," Joel offers, his voice warm and comforting as he assists you with your clothes, his touch gentle yet possessive. The intimacy of the moment lingers in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the bond you share.
Once you're dressed, Joel's arms wrap around you, holding you close as if reluctant to let you go. His embrace is both clingy and sweet, a silent plea for you to stay a little longer, to prolong the inevitable parting.
"I wish you didn't have to go," Joel murmurs, his voice filled with longing. "I could hold you like this forever."
You lean into his embrace, savoring the warmth and security he provides. "I wish I could stay too, Joel," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion. "But I have to go."
As you prepare to leave, Joel's gaze lingers on you, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and regret. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, a silent promise of his affection and devotion.
"I'll be counting the minutes until I can see you again," Joel says, his voice filled with sincerity. "You mean everything to me, darlin'."
As you step out onto Joel's front porch, the cool night air brushes against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of his embrace. You take a deep breath, savoring the scent of the night, your heart heavy with the weight of your decision to leave.
You make your way quietly and quickly to the back of your house, tiptoeing through the darkness, your mind filled with thoughts of Joel and the intense connection you share. As you slip back into your bedroom, you can't help but feel a sense of bliss and excitement, knowing that you'll see Joel again in just a few short hours.
The anticipation builds within you, a simmering heat that courses through your veins, fueled by the memories of your time together. You can't wait to feel his touch again, to lose yourself in the passion and intensity of your connection.
As you lay in bed, your mind drifts to thoughts of Joel, his drawl echoing in your mind, his words of love and devotion filling your heart with warmth and joy. You know that what you have together is special, a bond that goes beyond mere physical attraction.
You close your eyes, drifting off to sleep with a smile on your face, your dreams filled with the promise of a future filled with passion and love.
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As the morning sunlight streams through your window, you wake up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, the memories of the previous night still fresh in your mind. You can't wait to see Joel again, to feel his arms around you, to lose yourself in the intensity of your connection.
With a sense of excitement and anticipation, you get ready for the day, your heart filled with hope and joy, knowing that you have found something truly special in Joel.
You make your way downstairs to find your dad had gotten up extra early today. He glances at you and asks, "Well, someone's happy this morning. Did you sleep well honey?"
"Huh, what? Oh... yeah, I was pretty tired from yesterday so I just kinda passed out," you say, trying to be nonchalant. But you can see your dad give you a suspicious look before taking a long sip of his coffee.
"So... you and Joel..." Your dad begins, and you feel blood rushing into your ears, making you feel dizzy.
You raise your eyebrows at your dad, waiting for him to continue.
He clears his throat and says, "You gonna go with him to pick up Sarah later?"
You nod and smile at the mention of Sarah, "Mhm! I'll text you when we're leaving."
"Alright then, just..." Before your dad could finish that sentence, the doorbell rings, and you watch as your dad moves to the front door. When he opens it, Joel is standing there in a grey tee and those tight jeans with his hands in his pockets.
Your heart skips a beat as you take in the sight of him. "Fuck. He looks so good," you think to yourself, your body responding to his presence in a way that you can't control.
"Hey there, darlin'," Joel says, his deep Southern accent sending shivers down your spine.
"Hey," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper as you take in the sight of him standing on your doorstep.
Your dad has his eyes narrowed between the two of you, before saying, "Be sure to tell Sarah hi for me, I'll be going now."
You and Joel say goodbye, and watch as your dad hops into his car and drives off to work, leaving you alone with Joel.
"I missed you," Joel says, pulling you into a tight embrace.
You melt into his arms, feeling the warmth and strength of his body against yours.
"I missed you too," you reply, your voice filled with longing.
As you pull away, Joel's gaze lingers on you, his eyes filled with desire and affection.
"Let's go pick up Sarah," he says, his voice filled with excitement.
You nod, your heart racing with anticipation as you make your way to the car. The feeling of gratitude for the connection you share with Joel washes over you, knowing that it's something truly special and rare.
As you approach the car, Joel grabs the keys from your hand and gives your ass a playful smack, causing you to jolt in surprise.
"Hey!" you exclaim, looking at him with mock indignation.
Joel's smoldering gaze meets yours, filled with a mischievous glint that makes your heart race.
"Darlin', you just sit back and relax," he drawls in that deliciously Southern accent of his, sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm in charge of the driving, and you're in charge of lookin' like a damn goddess."
You can't help but smile at his playful banter, feeling your heart flutter with excitement as you slide into the passenger seat. Joel's eyes follow your every move, and you can't help but feel a little self-conscious under his intense gaze.
As he starts the car, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment and happiness wash over you. The connection you share with him is electric, a magnetic pull that draws you in and makes you feel alive.
With one hand on the steering wheel, Joel reaches out to place his other hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. You let out a soft moan, biting your lip as you feel a spark of desire ignite within you.
"You like that, don't you?" Joel murmurs, his voice low and husky. "You like when I touch you like this."
You nod, unable to find the words to respond. Joel's touch is intoxicating, making you feel dizzy with desire.
"Good," he says, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Because I love touching you, feeling your body respond to my touch. You're mine, and I'm never letting you go."
You lean back in your seat, feeling a sense of contentment and happiness wash over you as Joel's words of love and affection fill your ears.
"So... darlin'... how'd you feel about tellin' Sarah about us?" Joel asks, his Southern accent sending shivers down your spine as he rubs his thumb gently on your thigh.
You play the thought through your mind, considering the implications of sharing your relationship with Sarah.
"You want her to know?" you ask, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
Joel nods, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Of course, darlin'. Do you?"
You take a deep breath, thinking it over. "Will she be okay with it?"
Joel smiles, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "With you and I? Yeah. To be honest... I talk about you to her... a lot."
Your heart skips a beat at the thought of Joel sharing his feelings for you with Sarah. "Really?"
Joel nods, his thumb still tracing lazy circles on your thigh. "Yeah, darlin'. I can't help it. I'm crazy about you."
You can't help but smile at his words, feeling a sense of belonging and love that you've never experienced before.
"Okay," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Let's tell her."
Joel's face lights up, his eyes shining with happiness. "Really?"
You nod, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation wash over you. "Yeah. I want to share this with her. I want her to know how much you mean to me."
Joel leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your hand. "Thank you, darlin'. I promise you won't regret it."
As you and Joel make your way to the parking lot of the airport, the anticipation of reuniting with Sarah and Tommy fills the air with excitement. The energy between you and Joel crackles with anticipation as you head towards the arrivals area, scanning the crowd for their familiar faces.
And then, there they are. Sarah and Tommy, standing out in the crowd like beacons of joy. You can't contain your excitement and start waving your arms wildly, practically bouncing up and down with anticipation.
Sarah's eyes light up as she spots you, and she breaks into a wide grin, her steps quickening as she rushes towards you and Joel. Tommy follows closely behind, a smile playing on his lips as he takes in the scene before him.
"Hey, you guys!" Sarah exclaims, throwing her arms around you in a tight hug, her excitement contagious.
Sarah then turns to Joel, her eyes sparkling with joy as she throws her arms around his neck, embracing him with her whole body.
"Hi dad," she says, her voice filled with warmth and affection.
Joel's face lights up at the sight of his daughter, and he wraps his arms around her, pulling her in for a tight hug.
"I missed you too, baby girl," he says, his voice filled with warmth and affection.
He presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, his love for her radiating off of him in waves.
You watch the exchange between Joel and Sarah, feeling a sense of warmth and happiness wash over you. The bond between father and daughter is something special, a testament to the love they share.
Your gaze shifts to Tommy, and you make your way over to him, a friendly smile on your face. You wrap your arms around him in a warm embrace, feeling the strength and warmth of his body against yours.
"Hey there, it's good to see you!" you exclaim, your voice filled with genuine warmth and affection.
Tommy returns your embrace, his arms tightening around you for a moment before releasing you.
"Hey, it's good to see you too!" he replies, his voice filled with genuine warmth.
You take a step back, your hands still resting on his shoulders. "So, how was the flight?" you ask, your curiosity piqued.
Tommy shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh, you know, the usual. Turbulence, crying babies, and the occasional snoring passenger."
You laugh, the sound rich and full. "Sounds like a blast," you say, your voice filled with sarcasm.
Tommy grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, it was. Trust me."
As you all make your way to the car, the banter and teasing flow freely, the shared history and inside jokes adding to the sense of closeness between you.
Joel takes the lead, helping Tommy load his and Sarah's suitcases into the trunk of your car. His strong arms lift the heavy bags with ease, his movements fluid and efficient.
Sarah watches him with a proud smile on her face, her eyes filled with admiration and love.
"Hey dad, can I sit up front with you?" she asks, her voice filled with excitement and hope.
Joel shakes his head, a gentle smile on his face. "Sorry, baby girl. It wouldn't be polite to do that since it's not my car."
Sarah pouts, her bottom lip sticking out in disappointment. "But I want to sit up front with you!"
Joel ruffles her hair affectionately. "I know, but we have to be polite. Maybe next time, okay?"
Sarah nods, her disappointment forgotten as quickly as it appeared. She climbs into the back seat, her eyes sparkling with excitement and joy.
Tommy follows suit, his movements easy and relaxed. He slides into the back seat next to Sarah, a friendly smile on his face.
As you all settle into your seats, the car is filled with laughter and chatter, the shared excitement of the journey ahead palpable in the air.
As Joel navigates the car out of the airport and onto the road leading back to his house, a sense of contentment washes over you. The familiar sights pass by outside the windows, the hum of the engine providing a soothing backdrop to the lively conversation inside.
You feel Joel's hand on your upper thigh, his touch warm and reassuring, a silent declaration of his affection for you. Your heart flutters at the intimate gesture, and you steal a glance at him, meeting his gaze with a shy smile.
In the rearview mirror, you catch Tommy raising his eyebrows playfully, a knowing look in his eyes. Sarah, oblivious to the silent exchange, gazes out the window, her expression one of wonder and excitement.
The dynamic in the car is one of comfort and familiarity, each person bringing their own energy to the mix. Joel's presence is a steady anchor, his touch a source of comfort and reassurance. Tommy's playful teasing adds a lightness to the atmosphere, while Sarah's infectious enthusiasm fills the space with joy.
Eventually, you arrive back at Joel's house, the journey from the airport filled with laughter and chatter. As you all step out of the car, you lend a hand to Joel and Tommy, helping them with the suitcases and other items as you all make your way into the house.
Tommy excuses himself to put away his things in the guestroom, while Sarah does the same in her new room. You take the opportunity to help Joel fix up a few snacks for Tommy and Sarah, the two of you working together with ease and familiarity.
As you put the finishing touches on the snacks, you feel Joel's arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close. His lips find your neck, peppering kisses along the sensitive skin as he inhales your scent.
You lean back into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. The connection between you two is intense, a magnetic pull that draws you closer together.
As Tommy makes his way back into the living room, Joel releases you, a playful smile on his face.
"I see you two found each other," Tommy says with a wink, a teasing glint in his eye.
You feel your face heat up, but Joel just chuckles, his arm draped around your shoulders.
"Can't help it," Joel says with a shrug, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before turning back to Tommy.
Tommy raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye. "You gonna tell Sarah?" he asks, grabbing a potato chip from the ceramic bowl on the counter.
Joel nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, when she gets down here," he says, his voice filled with warmth and affection.
Just then, Sarah appears from around the corner, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I knew it! Finally! He's been talking about you non-stop and was an absolute grump for the past few months!" she exclaims, a wide grin spreading across her face.
You feel your cheeks flush at the mention of Joel's infatuation with you, but Sarah's excitement is infectious.
Joel chuckles, his arm draped around your shoulders. "I guess the cat's out of the bag now," he says, his gaze softening as he looks at you.
Sarah claps her hands together, her eyes shining with joy. "I'm so happy for you two!" she exclaims, pulling you into a tight hug.
Tommy joins in, a warm smile on his face. "Welcome to the family," he says, his voice filled with genuine warmth.
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You quickly send a message to your dad, updating him on your whereabouts and letting him know that you'll be having dinner with the Millers, and that he's welcome to join you all.
The rest of the evening is filled with laughter and conversation, the four of you sharing stories and memories as you get to know each other better.
As you were nearing finishing dinner, you hear a knock on Joel's front door, and he excuses himself to answer it. You continue to laugh loudly at Sarah's jokes while Tommy rolls his eyes playfully.
But then, you hear a familiar voice call out your name, and you find your dad standing by the entryway of the dining area. The room falls silent as all eyes turn to him.
"Hey Dad... we just had dinner. Do you want anything? I'm sure I can fix you up a plate," you say, standing up to greet him.
Your dad shakes his head. "No, just had dinner with some of the guys back at the shop. I wanted to say hi to Sarah and Tommy. Didn't think you'd still be here... thought you'd be home already," he says, giving you and Joel a pointed look.
Sarah, bless her heart, quickly jumps in to save the day. "Oh! That's my fault. I insisted she stay here for dinner since I missed her so much," she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Your dad chuckles, his gaze softening as he looks at you. "Well, I'm glad you're having a good time. I'll let you all get back to it, just don’t be home too late," he says, giving you a quick hug before turning to leave.
As the door closes behind your dad, a sense of calm settles over the room. You all let out a collective sigh of relief, the tension dissipating as you begin to help clear the table and clean up the dishes. You insist that Sarah and Tommy take a break and get some rest after the meal.
Just as you're elbow-deep in soapy water, scrubbing at a stubborn spot on a plate, you feel Joel's presence behind you. His strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you gently away from the sink.
"I'll wash 'em, darlin'," he says, his voice soft and reassuring. "You can rest too. You've done so much already. I can take it from here."
You turn to face him, a grateful smile on your lips. "Are you sure? I don't mind helping," you say, your voice filled with appreciation for his thoughtfulness.
Joel's gaze meets yours, his eyes warm and filled with affection. "I'm sure. You've been a big help today. Let me take care of this," he says, his drawl adding a soothing cadence to his words.
"I'll help dry the dishes and put them away," you say, grabbing a towel from the drawer next to the sink.
Joel chuckles, his arms wrapping around your waist as he presses a gentle kiss to the side of your head. "Fine, darlin'," he says with a wink.
You bump your hip with his, a playful grin on your face. "Come on, slowpoke. Let's get these dishes done," you say, sticking your tongue out at him teasingly.
Joel laughs, the sound deep and rich. "Alright, alright. Let's get to work," he says, his arms still wrapped around you as you begin to dry the dishes together.
The warmth of Joel's body against yours, the sound of his laughter, and the easy banter between you creates a sense of comfort and familiarity that you cherish.
As you work together, the pile of dishes slowly dwindles, the kitchen gradually returning to its former state of cleanliness.
Finally, the last dish is dried and put away, and you turn to face Joel, a satisfied smile on your lips. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" you say, your voice filled with playful teasing.
Joel grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "No, darlin', it wasn't. But I think I'll let you do the dishes next time," he says, his arms still wrapped around you.
You laugh, the sound rich and full. "We'll see about that," you say, your voice filled with playful challenge.
You and Joel make your way back to the living room, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the air. Tommy and Sarah are settled on the couch, their attention focused on the TV as they watch some show they had found.
Sarah turns her head, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she tilts it at the two of you. "So... when are you gonna tell your dad?" she asks, her voice filled with playful teasing.
You glance at Joel, a mixture of emotions swirling in your chest. "I'm not sure... but hopefully... soon," you say, your voice filled with uncertainty.
Joel nods, his arm draped around your shoulders as he pulls you closer. "Yeah, we'll tell him when the time is right," he says, his voice filled with confidence and reassurance.
Tommy turns his head, a knowing look in his eyes as he takes in the exchange between you and Joel. "Well, whenever you're ready, we'll be here to support you," he says, his voice filled with warmth and affection.
Sarah nods, her eyes shining with excitement. "Yeah, we can't wait to see what the future holds for you two," she says, her voice filled with genuine happiness.
The room falls silent for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling over you all. But then, the sound of laughter and chatter fills the air once again, the tension dissipating as you all settle in to enjoy the rest of the evening together.
As you lean into Joel's embrace, his arm wrapped around you, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. 
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"I had a lot of fun today," you say softly as Joel walks you back home, the short distance feeling longer with each step as a mix of excitement and nervousness swirls within you.
Joel's hands are tucked away in his jeans, a subtle restraint evident as he refrains from intertwining his fingers with yours, a silent acknowledgment of the need for caution in the presence of your father.
He hums in agreement, a small smile playing on his lips. "I did too," he replies, his voice warm and filled with affection.
You glance up at him, a hint of longing in your eyes. "Wish I could stay over tonight, but y'know... my dad," you sigh, the reality of the situation sinking in as you step onto the familiar steps of your front porch.
Joel nods, understanding the unspoken boundaries that need to be respected. "I get it. We'll have plenty of time for that," he says, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of desire and restraint.
You smile, your heart filled with gratitude. "Yeah, definitely. Thanks for walking me home," you say, your voice soft and sincere.
Joel leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Anytime, darlin'," he murmurs, his deep baritone sending a shiver down your spine. "I've been meanin' to ask you... d'you mind comin' with me to grab a bite to eat and then head to the store to pick up a few more things for the house tomorrow?"
You nod, a smile spreading across your face. "Of course," you reply, your voice filled with eagerness. But then you remember, “You know what small towns are like. People talk.”
“I can’t guarantee anything,” Joel admits. “But we can only do our best to keep our hands off each other until it’s the right time to have everyone know. If you think that’s for the best,” he susgests, and only try to make you feel better.
You let out a small sigh and eventually nod and give him a small smile in agreement.
Joel's eyes sparkle with affection. "I'll see you soon, darlin'," he says, sweet as whiskey.
As you watch Joel's retreating figure, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the warmth and affection that fills your heart. Reluctantly, you turn and head back towards your house, the day's events still lingering in your mind.
The familiar surroundings of your home envelope you, the sound of the television filtering in from the living room. You pause in the entryway, taking a moment to gather your thoughts before making your way towards the comforting glow of the screen.
"Hey, Dad," you call out, your voice filled with a mix of nervousness and excitement.
Your father looks up from the television, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Hey, kiddo. How was your day?" he asks, his eyes filled with genuine interest.
"It was good," you reply, trying to sound casual. "I'm going with Joel tomorrow to help him pick up some stuff for his house."
Your father raises his eyebrows, a hint of a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Oh, alright. Sarah and Tommy coming too?"
You shake your head, feeling a slight flutter in your stomach. "I don't think so... I think they wanna fix their things and rest up a bit."
Your father nods, his gaze studying you for a moment, a hint of a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Just the two of you, huh?" he says, his voice laced with slight concern.
You feel your cheeks flush, but you hold your father's gaze, determined to be honest. "Yeah, just the two of us," you confirm, your voice soft but steady.
Your father leans back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Alright," he says, his voice calm and reassuring. "Just text me when you leave, okay?"
You nod, a grateful smile spreading across your face. "Thanks, Dad," you say, your voice filled with appreciation.
You feel a warmth spread through your chest, the weight of the day's events finally starting to catch up with you. "I'm gonna head to bed," you say, stifling a yawn. "I'm kinda exhausted."
Your father chuckles, the sound warm and familiar. "Get some rest, kiddo. You've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow," he says.
You nod, leaning in to give your father a quick hug. "Thanks, Dad. I love you," you murmur, your voice filled with emotion.
"Love you too, kiddo," he replies, his arms tightening around you for a moment before you pull away.
You tuck yourself into the cozy comfort of your bed, a big smile spreading across your face as you let out a contented sigh. 
As you settle into the familiar softness of your pillows, your mind can't help but wander to Joel. The thought of spending the day with him tomorrow fills you with a sense of giddiness and anticipation that you can't quite contain.
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You hum a soft, lilting melody to yourself as you move through your morning routine, the excitement for the day ahead bubbling within you. The sound of your father stirring in the kitchen reaches your ears, and you know he's likely headed out for an early shift at the shop.
After quickly whipping up a simple breakfast, you hear a familiar knock at the front door, and you can't help the grin that spreads across your face as you practically bound towards it.
Pulling the door open, your eyes are immediately drawn to the sight of Joel standing there, his tall frame leaning casually against the doorframe. His silver curls are neatly pushed back, and he's dressed in a different colored flannel than the one he wore the day before, paired with his well-worn jeans.
A smirk plays on his lips as he takes in the sight of you, his eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and mischief.
"Mornin', darlin'," he drawls, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.
"Hi," you breathe, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious, yet unable to tear your gaze away from him.
Joel chuckles, the sound low and rich. "You ready to head out?" he asks, his arm reaching out to gently brush against yours.
You nod, your heart fluttering at his touch. "Just let me grab my bag," you say, turning to retrieve it from the nearby table.
As you turn back to face him, you catch a glimpse of your father in the kitchen, offering you a warm smile and a subtle nod of approval. The gesture fills you with a sense of comfort and reassurance.
Turning your attention back to Joel, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement and anticipation. "Okay, I'm all set," you say, your voice brimming with enthusiasm.
Joel grins, his hand finding the small of your back as he guides you out the door. "Then let's get goin', darlin'," he says, his touch sending a thrill through you.
As you step out into the crisp morning air, hand in hand with the man you've come to care for so deeply, a sense of anticipation and uncertainty lingers between you.
"What are we gonna do, Joel?" you ask suddenly as you settle into the car's passenger seat, the weight of the situation pressing down on you.
To be honest, it's the last thing Joel is thinking about, and your question catches him off guard. But he can see and feel how it's affecting you, the worry and doubt etched in your expression.
"You could just sneak over to my house every night. Make sure you're back home in time for breakfast," Joel suggests, trying to lighten the mood, but he knows deep down it's not as simple as that.
"Do you think your dad might already kinda know?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with concern. "Deep down, I kinda mean, darlin'."
You shrug, a mix of emotions swirling within you as Joel drives. You feel annoyed at yourself for even bringing it up, but Joel is grateful that you did.
"Or we could just go. Take off," Joel says, thinking aloud. He feels you turn to look at him, his hand still rubbing comforting circles on your thigh.
"You mean... just leave?" you ask, the idea not entirely foreign to you.
"It's not something we have to think about right this minute, but do you really wanna stay here, in this house? In this town, tutoring kids for a few bucks an hour?" Joel questions, his voice tinged with a hint of restlessness.
He remembers one of the main things he doesn't miss about small towns – how everyone seems to know everyone else's business. And in the case of you and Joel, that would be none of their damned business.
"But you only just bought the place, and Sarah and Tommy just arrived, and I guess the only thing I'm really worried about is Dad. Screw tutoring," you say, your brow furrowed as you grapple with the weight of the decisions ahead.
"I only bought the place... only came back to town to be closer to you, remember?" Joel explains, his voice filled with sincerity. "Sarah's school transfer papers haven't been processed yet, and Tommy has to go back anyways. I didn't think in my wildest dreams that I'd have you all to myself on day one, darlin'."
"You're a pretty fast operator, that's for sure," you tease him, a hint of a smile playing on your lips, but the underlying tension remains unresolved between you.
The realization that you are well and truly Joel's, the depth of your connection with him, fills you with a sense of contentment and joy. It's a problem, but the best kind of problem to have, a testament to the love and bond you share.
Unbeknownst to you, Joel hasn't checked his messages yet, but he's confident that the call he made to boost your dad's business will yield positive results. It may not all happen today, but he's hopeful it will help your dad regain his confidence and pride in his work.
In the meantime, Joel is adamant that you shouldn't do anything you're not comfortable with. He inquires if you're the only tutor available at the college.
"Of course not," you sigh, a hint of resignation in your voice. "It'll just mean a couple of college kids keep their tutoring money from Mom or Dad, is all," you reflect, the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders.
From your perspective, the real challenge lies in explaining to everyone that you've been with Joel the whole time. The thought of facing your father's reaction weighs heavily on your mind, and Joel is keenly aware of the potential conflict that may arise.
He knows that your father's protective instincts will be triggered, and navigating that aspect of your relationship will require patience and understanding from both of you.
"Well, if we're gonna burn for it, we may as well burn together," Joel tells you, his voice filled with a mix of determination and tenderness.
"But there's no point makin' it harder on ourselves either," Joel adds, his tone thoughtful. "Let's just wait and see, huh?" he suggests, his eyes meeting yours with a reassuring gaze.
The idea sinks in – it isn't the end of the world if you stop tutoring, and if nobody has caught on to the fact that you two are together, why stir up unnecessary trouble?
Relieved when you agree, you relax back into your seat, the weight of the situation lifting slightly. Joel parks the car on a street lined with small stores and cafes, the hustle and bustle of the town adding to the charm of the moment.
Despite the external distractions, it feels wrong to be near you and not show you how much you mean to him. The subtle touches and stolen glances have evolved into something deeper, a connection that demands to be acknowledged.
By the time you graduate from those fleeting moments to a full-blown kiss once you're back in the car after your meal, the intensity of your feelings for each other becomes undeniable.
Just as the moment seems to crystallize into something special, a female voice interrupts, shattering the private bubble you and Joel had created.
"Oh! Hi, Professor," you squeak, the sudden intrusion jolting you out of the intimate moment.
Joel, his expression darkening, turns to face the unexpected visitor, a protective instinct rising within him as he assesses the situation with a keen eye.
As the scene unfolds, Joel quickly grasps the situation at hand. A mildly annoyed college professor, Professor Hannah Bennett, catches her star tutor – you – in the arms of a man, instead of where you're expected to be.
The initial tension softens as Professor Bennett's gaze meets Joel's, her expression shifting from annoyance to curiosity. Joel, ever the gentleman, gulps slightly before extending his hand in introduction.
"Professor Hannah Bennett," she says, regaining her composure, though Joel feels her hand limp in his for a brief moment, a sign of her surprise.
Her eyes flicker from Joel to you, who has momentarily lost your voice in the unexpected encounter. The professor, quick to regain her professional demeanor, decides to leave you two to your own devices.
"Your dad mentioned you were helping his friend... uh, new neighbor," she stammers, a deep blush coloring her cheeks.
"Just maybe more notice next time if you're not up for tutoring for the day, that's all I ask," she adds, her tone taking on a more authoritative air as she reverts to her professorial role.
"I think I'll take a rain check on tutoring for a while, Professor Bennett," you declare in a clear, resolute voice, your hand slipping into Joel's for support.
Joel's pride and satisfaction are evident as he grins at your decision. The old professor huffs in disapproval, muttering something about the younger generation, before swiftly retreating from the scene.
"You quit?" Joel asks, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and admiration, leaning in to kiss you deeply before you can respond.
"I guess I did," you reply, a hint of amazement in your tone at the sudden turn of events.
"Was it hard?" Joel teases, and you shoot him a sidelong glance, a hint of amusement in your eyes.
"The professor's the soul of discretion," you assure him. "But if we're caught like that on our first time out together..."
Joel knows exactly what you mean. The potential fallout from such a public display is looming, and he can feel the weight of it pressing down on you both.
"C'mon," Joel urges, determined to enjoy the moment despite the impending challenges. "Show me around town. Take me grocery shopping," he suggests, his voice filled with enthusiasm.
"We can fill up both our pantries and maybe we can cook up a storm for dinner?" he asks, but he can see the worry etched on your face.
"Hey, your dad was alright with the idea, right? To come with me for the grocery run?" Joel reasons, hoping to ease your concerns.
Relieved when you finally yield, a smile spreading across your face as you relax. "You're right. He did," you agree.
"But easy with those kisses," you're quick to add, a hint of playfulness in your tone. "What if it was Dad that happened by just now?"
Joel bites his tongue, and to keep you happy, he agrees to the new terms and conditions. No aggressive public displays of affection – a small price to pay to maintain the delicate balance of your relationship.
Your little run-in with the professor has only affirmed Joel's feeling that small-town eyes and ears are always connected to big mouths. He knows they'll have to be cautious, at least for now.
"Say," Joel asks once you're back in the car, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Is there like a lingerie store or something in town too?"
You raise an eyebrow, unsure if he's teasing you or not. "I think there is, but I don't think that's where you wanna be seen hanging out, is it?" you ask, a playful challenge in your voice.
Joel chuckles, his gaze focused on the road ahead. "I'll keep it in mind for future reference," he explains, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
As he navigates the quiet streets, Joel makes a mental note that you're going to need a ready supply of all things underwear. The memory of tearing yours off is still fresh enough in his mind to remind him that he wants to make it a regular occurrence.
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As you and Joel make your way through the quiet streets of the town, you can't help but feel a growing sense of unease. It must be your imagination, you tell yourself, trying to push down the nagging feeling that something is off.
But as you step into the local grocery store, the truth becomes undeniable – everyone is staring at the two of you. You're nowhere near touching, and you definitely don't have a sign around your neck proclaiming your newfound intimacy, but the curious gazes and hushed whispers are impossible to ignore.
You keep forgetting that a man of Joel's stature and presence is bound to turn heads in a small town like this. But as quick as the locals are to stare and gawk, they're just as fast to look away, especially when they lock eyes with Joel's unwavering gaze.
"Grab whatever you need, whatever you want. For your place, too, darlin'," Joel says, his voice warm and reassuring, though you can see the strain in his expression, the desire to reach out and touch you palpable.
He focuses his attention on filling the biggest cart he can find, his movements efficient and purposeful. You can't help but wonder how you're going to explain a houseful of food to your father, but you're sure he's well aware of just how naturally generous Joel is by now.
After filling up not one, but two overflowing carts, you can't help but protest the sheer volume of groceries Joel has insisted on purchasing. But he's quick to reason with you, his voice low and conspiratorial.
"The less I have to go out to shop, the more time I have to work on my new house," he says, his words laced with a hidden meaning that's clear to you.
You nod in understanding, realizing that his reasoning is not just about efficiency, but also about maintaining the appearance of propriety in the eyes of the small-town community.
As you check out, the total on the receipt makes your eyes widen, but Joel simply shrugs it off, his focus on ensuring you and your home are well-stocked. You actually think it's a great idea – if you both stock up now, you won't have to venture out for anything later.
No tutoring, no errands to run, at least for the next week. The thought of having all that spare time with Joel has your heart racing with anticipation, and you're pretty sure he has a few ideas of his own.
But as Joel pulls into your street, your breath catches in your throat. There, parked out front, is your father's truck. You swallow hard, the weight of the situation suddenly pressing down on you.
"Your dad's home," Joel says, his voice strained, but there's no hint of worry in his tone. If anything, he sounds more like an animal guarding its prized possession than someone afraid of getting caught.
Taking a deep breath as Joel pulls into the driveway, you brace yourself for the moment of confrontation you've been dreading. But as you both start to unload the groceries, the anticipated showdown never materializes.
Far from it, your dad practically leaps out of the house, a huge smile spreading across his face as he welcomes you both. Joel's mood instantly shifts, a sense of relief and contentment washing over him – if your dad is happy, so is Joel.
And just like that, you're off the hook for now.
"You're home early, Dad," you observe, but he's way too pumped up about something else to ask you two where you've been. He's grinning like a maniac, and you can't help but wonder if he's finally cracked.
Catching Joel's knowing look, you realize that this must be good news somehow. Whatever it is, it's clearly put your father in an exceptionally cheerful mood.
"I dunno what you did, Joel, but it worked!" your dad almost shrieks, pumping the air with his fist before high-fiving Joel, who doesn't seem surprised at all.
"What did you do?" you ask them both, but it's as if you've disappeared or something. Your dad has gone into full Joel-best-buddy mode, slapping his back and whooping and hollering. It's not until you're all inside that you can finally get any sense out of him.
"I'm booked solid for the next three months!" your dad exclaims to Joel, who's trying his best to look excited for your father's good fortune.
"And that, uh, client of yours? The one who collects all those vintage cars? Guess who he wants to be maintaining them all?" your dad asks, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"That's great news. I'm glad I could..." Joel begins, but your dad is on a roll.
He's re-hiring the mechanics and workers he's laid off, and he's going to "expand the business." He's going to do better than ever from now on.
He's going to...
He's going to make you vomit if he keeps going on about it.
"Dad," you finally say, talking over him to get his attention.
"Yeah, sweetie, what is it?" he asks, holding his thought so he can keep telling Joel all about his fresh business plans.
"Nothing." You smile. "But are you gonna stick around, or do you still have that tractor to fix?" you ask, wondering if you and Joel will have any time alone now.
And you haven't even thought about what's going to happen when it's time to go to bed.
"Oh, yeah. Thanks, honey, but I've got Lucas going out to do it now. Boy! Is he glad to have his old job back!" your dad exclaims loudly, beaming up at Joel.
His admiration for Joel makes you feel like you're not the only one who thinks he's pretty amazing, which he is to a lot of people. But to you, he's the only one.
"You've done the hunting and gathering," your dad proclaims, his eyes sweeping over the abundance of meat and groceries you and Joel have just started to unload. Sarah and Tommy quickly make their way outside, greeting your father and offering to help with the remaining items that belong to them.
"So I'll start making us all a feast to celebrate," your dad announces, asking you if you can finish bringing in the groceries while he and Joel "catch up."
The subtle way he singles you out of the conversation is not lost on you. If this had been a day or two ago, before you had just lived through the best twenty-four hours of your life with Joel, you wouldn't have minded. But you hadn't counted on your dad being home early, nor did you expect him to hijack your man as soon as he saw him again.
You look to Joel for help, but he only shrugs, a strange expression crossing his face when your dad's back is turned that has you stifling a giggle. Instantly, you find yourself forgiving the entire group for being in this crazy situation.
You do as your dad asks, leaving out the items he calls for, the ones he'll need to amaze you all with his cooking skills. But once that task is complete, you're left awkwardly hanging out in the kitchen, feeling miles away from Joel. Maybe you should just go to your room.
No sooner do you glance towards the hallway leading to your bedroom, Joel's stern look stops you in your tracks. The message is clear – he wants you right where he can see you.
"I might just go change," you tell the room, knowing your dad is not paying attention, still talking a million miles a minute to Joel, who gives a little nod of approval.
You haven't seen your dad this excited, ever. Whatever Joel did has clearly done the trick to help your dad out, but are you really going to have to hear about it all night? It feels like you are.
By the time you change clothes, trying to look nice but not overly dressy for Joel, your dad stops long enough to notice you for a change.
"Sorry, honey. I've just been so pumped all day. And I've just gotta talk to the man who made it all happen," he explains, shooting Joel another glowing look.
"Don't let me do all the talking, though, and don't worry about skipping tutoring today. I already spoke to the professor," he adds, making your heart freeze in your chest.
"So? What have you two been up to all day?" he asks, snapping off a celery stalk from one of the brown paper sacks, crunching it loudly as he leans back against the counter.
Now, he's all ears, eager to know what it is that you and Joel have been up to.
He looks from you to Joel, and you can feel your mouth hanging open. You're waiting for Joel to save you both, which he does without effort.
"I had sweet darlin’ here help me run some errands, we did some grocery shopping, and then she showed me around town," he says, and none of it is a lie.
Your dad's brow creases with attention as he listens, already looking bored if he can't keep talking about his own good news. Joel does skip some parts, though, including the more intimate moments you shared – your father wouldn't be interested in those details.
But once Joel suggests you help him out like you did today more often, especially with all the plans Joel has for his new house, and hanging out with Sarah and helping her by tutoring her, it starts to sound more like a job offer than anything else.
"Well, it's up to you, hon," your dad says thoughtfully after a moment, not even a hint of suspicion in his voice anymore.
As your dad busies himself selecting ingredients for the meal he's going to prepare, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within you. The prospect of spending more hours talking and eating with your family and Joel looms ahead, a bittersweet reminder of the newfound dynamics in your life.
Joel's pivotal role in saving your dad's business is evident, and it's clear that your father is more than willing to follow Joel's lead from now on. Despite the relief and gratitude you feel, there's an underlying longing for the quiet moments alone with the man who has quickly become the center of your world.
"I wasn't getting paid very much to tutor, Dad," you remind him, shooting a playful glance at Joel when your dad's attention is elsewhere. You can't help but ponder what your hourly rate might be if you were to accept his unofficial job offer, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes.
It takes some time to adjust to the new dynamic in the kitchen with Joel and your dad. You find yourself fighting the urge to seek out Joel's touch every few seconds, a silent reminder of the growing connection between you.
As you call Sarah and Tommy over for dinner, the atmosphere shifts to one of camaraderie and relaxation. It feels good to simply talk, eat, and goof around without the weight of other concerns pressing down on you.
Throughout the evening, you notice the subtle strain on Joel's face, a reminder of the complexities of the situation. Yet, your dad remains your dad, unwavering in his friendship with Joel, creating a unique bond between the three of you.
As the meal progresses and conversations flow, you find yourself washing up alongside Sarah, the men engrossed in their post-dinner discussions out on the porch. Sarah decides to head back to the house early, leaving you with a sense of peace and contentment in the quiet moments that follow.
The realization hits you like a ton of bricks – you might have to spend the night away from Joel, not just tonight, but potentially every night until you both figure out what to do. It's not a happy thought, and you know Joel is thinking the same thing as the time for bed draws closer.
You've spent more hours today not touching and kissing than you two have actually been able to do so, and you just know Joel isn't happy about that either. So when your dad comes back inside without Joel or Tommy, you try not to sound panicked as you ask where they both are.
Your dad chuckles, "He went home, sweetie. He lives next door now, remember?" he asks, stifling a yawn and scratching his belly, letting you know he's about to turn in.
"I gotta huge day tomorrow, so I might not even see ya before or after work, but thanks for helping Joel out. He's really saved our bacon," your dad says, pecking your cheek before stretching out another yawn and heading to his room.
Not long after hearing his door close, there's a light rapping at the back door. You spring around and see Joel, his finger pressed firmly to his lips before he stalks over to you in two steps, kissing you with a desperation that takes your breath away.
"Wait 'til he's asleep again... Then come over," he murmurs, cocking his head and darting back out the door before your dad shuffles down the hall again, this time in his pajamas on the way to the bathroom.
Once your dad goes back to his room, you know he won't be coming out again. And if he does, he'll think you're asleep. So, tidying up the rest of the kitchen in record time, it isn't long before you hear your dad blowing bubbles in his sleep, and you're hot-footing it next door.
The need for Joel's touch is overwhelming, the hours spent apart feeling like an eternity. As you step into his home, the familiar scent of him envelops you, and you can't help but feel a sense of relief and excitement wash over you.
Without a moment's hesitation, you find yourself in his arms, your lips crashing against his in a desperate, passionate kiss. The world around you fades away, and all that matters is the connection you share, the hunger for each other's embrace.
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Joel's deep, southern drawl sends a shiver down your spine as he leans in, his lips brushing against your neck. "You gotta be quiet for me, darlin'," he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your skin. "Can you do that for me?"
You nod eagerly, your heart racing with anticipation. The need for his touch is overwhelming, the hours spent apart feeling like an eternity. As his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against his muscular frame, you melt into his embrace.
Joel's calloused hands roam your body, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you. His lips crash against yours in a desperate, passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a primal hunger. You whimper softly, the sound muffled by his searing kiss.
"That's it, darlin'," Joel growls, his voice dripping with desire. "Let me hear how much you want me." His hands slide down to your hips, gripping them firmly as he grinds his hardness against you.
You gasp, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. "Joel," you breathe, your fingers tangling in his silver curls. "I need you, please..."
He chuckles, the deep rumble vibrating against your skin. "I know, sweetheart. I'm gonna take care of you." Deftly, he lifts you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries you towards the bedroom.
The world around you fades away, consumed by the raw, primal need that pulses between you. Joel lays you down on the bed, his calloused hands caressing your curves as he hovers over you, his eyes dark with lust.
"You're so damn beautiful, darlin'," he murmurs, his lips trailing featherlight kisses along your jaw. "I've been waitin' all day to have you like this."
You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. "Then take me, Joel," you whisper, your voice dripping with desire. "I'm yours."
With a growl, Joel captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hands roaming your body as he slowly, methodically undresses you. The air is thick with the scent of your arousal, and the sound of your ragged breathing fills the room.
As he buries himself deep within you, you cry out, the sensation of being so completely filled sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Joel stills for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours.
"That's it, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice strained with restraint. "Let me hear how much you love it."
You whimper, your hips rolling against his. "Joel, please," you beg, your nails digging into the taut muscles of his back. "Don't stop."
With a groan, Joel begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, driving you higher and higher towards the precipice of ecstasy. Your bodies move in perfect harmony, the world around you fading away until all that exists is the two of you, lost in a haze of passion and desire.
The room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the heady scent of sex hanging in the air as Joel's movements become more urgent, more primal. Your bodies move as one, a symphony of desire and need as you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy together, the intensity of your release washing over you in a wave of pure bliss.
As you come down from the heights of pleasure, Joel holds you close, his heart pounding against yours as you both catch your breath. In the aftermath of your passion, you're left feeling sated, fulfilled, and more connected to Joel than ever before.
In this stolen moment, you know that no matter the challenges that lie ahead, as long as you have Joel by your side, you're equipped to confront almost anything. The future may be uncertain, but in his arms, you've never felt more at home.
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lotusbxtch · 6 months
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SoCal to NorCal - Chapter 1: Malibu
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Series Masterlist Series Pairing: husband!Joel Miller x afab!Reader x boyfriend!Frankie Morales Series Summary: Joel is your rock, and Frankie is your ocean. So what happens when you bring the three of you together?
- or -
you and Frankie roadtrip up from Southern California to Northern California so he can meet Joel. A polyamory fic. This series exists in the Triple Frontier universe and is a Joel Miller AU/Triple Frontier AU. Series Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI
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Chapter 1: Malibu
Chapter Pairing: Frankie Morales x afab!Reader x Santiago Garcia
Chapter Summary: You & Frankie visit your friend Santi at his Malibu mansion to kick off your roadtrip north, and you let desires guide the night.
Word Count: 6.9k
Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI
Chapter Warnings/Tags: polyamory, threesome, multiple partners, MMF dynamics, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected P in V (wrap it up pls!), DVP, multiple creampies, explicit talk about cum (is a cum kink a thing? a tag I should use? Pls comment with your thoughts lol), spitting, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, gratuitous descriptions of male and female anatomy, heavy use of Spanish pet names/nicknames, Santi being a menace is his own warning, Frankie the PEK, Frankie has a big dick and so does Santi, Reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns, Reader is able-bodied, has breasts, and has hair that can be pulled, otherwise no description of Reader's skin color, size, body shape, hair color, eye color, or ethnicity, no use of y/n. Everyone is testing negative for STDs and Reader is on birth control. a/n: This is my very first series fic! I plan to have 3 chapters including this one. This one was meant to be a fun spicy little intro into the fic, but of course Santi being an absolute menace meant that this is absolute smutty filth and I'm sorry (not sorry). MASSIVE thank you to my sweet @for-a-longlongtime, who not only gave me the iconic Santiago line "guava goes better with pussy and mezcal," but beta read for me, bounced ideas around, and encouraged me when I wasn't sure that I could do this. Without her help, this fic wouldn't be in existence! Dividers by the amazing @saradika-graphics, thank you! (Please note that the chapter graphic is NOT meant to be accurate to Reader — vibes only!)
If you enjoy my writing, please leave a comment, feedback or reblog! It would mean the world to me. Thank you!
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“I think that should be everything,” you murmur, closing the back of the forest green Jeep. You card a hand through your hair while going over a mental pack list for the third time this afternoon. Behind you, you feel a soft kiss on your shoulder and warm, strong hands envelop your waist.
“You ready to ride then, sweetness?” asks your boyfriend, Frankie. You smile and lean back into his embrace. “Yeah, I’m really looking forward to this trip,” you say, turning to plant a kiss to his aquiline nose, and then another to his plush lips. You both hop into the car; Frankie navigates towards the coast, while small butterflies dance in the pit of your stomach as you think about how the two of you got here.
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You and Frankie Morales met six months ago at the Santa Monica airport. In a bid to encourage team bonding, upper management at your job booked a helicopter tour of the Los Angeles skyline. Frankie was the pilot for your chopper. He charmed your group with his charismatic yet humble demeanor and fun factoids about LA, especially you – your coworkers insisted that he kept staring at you when you weren’t looking. But Frankie ultimately beat you to the punch and asked you out for drinks the following night. You accepted, and the rest is history. The attraction was palpable from the get-go, and Frankie’s go-with-the-flow attitude complimented your fiery personality to a T. You adored how detail-oriented he was in all aspects of his life – memorizing your favorite teas, asking about how your projects were going, knowing exactly how to make you see stars in bed with his fingers, his cock, and especially his tongue. You couldn’t deny that Frankie was the perfect addition to your life, and you to his.
Through those first few weeks, you both divulged the more challenging bits of your lives. Frankie told you about his daughter, Isabella, and how his struggle with cocaine almost ruined his life. His relationship with his ex-wife was strained because of it, but they co-parented well - it was their main goal to ensure that Isabella was never put in the middle of their struggles, that she always felt supported and loved by both of her parents. Frankie had lost his pilot’s license after he failed a random drug test, and he took that as a sign to do the work to fix what was broken. He was now two years sober, and back to flying.
You, in turn, revealed to Frankie that he wasn’t the only man in your life. For the last decade, you’ve been with Joel Miller, your husband of seven years. Joel was the steady compass of your soul, the man whose roots intertwined deeply with those of your heart. You’d loved Joel almost your entire life, having grown up in the same neighborhood, although your crush on him was secretive during your childhood. He was your older brother’s best friend from college, a transplant from Texas whose parents moved to the Bay Area when he was a teenager. You ran into him after getting your master’s degree and moving back to the suburbs of San Francisco, and something sparked between the two of you. Since then, you’d been inseparable. When your work requested that you spend a year going between NorCal and SoCal to establish the new Los Angeles area office, you knew it would be a challenge for your relationship. As it turns out, it was only really a challenge for one reason — your sex drive was incredibly high, and sometimes you were apart from Joel for weeks at a time. Phone and video sex worked as well as it could, but it couldn’t beat the real thing. One night, after a particularly frustrating video sex session — all of your toys ran out of juice and you’d left your charger at home, among other things — Joel surprised you by suggesting that you didn’t need to stay monogamous. 
“Are you sure, Joel?” you asked incredulously. “You’ve never been one to particularly like sharing.”
Joel huffed a laugh. “Yes, darlin’,” he replied. “Lord knows the new office ended up bein’ more work than either of us thought it’d be. I know how much ‘gettin’ yours’ can be de-stressin’ for ya, and I don’t wanna be the reason you can’t seek it. It’s not like you’d be askin’ someone to move in with us. If it helps you, it makes me happy. And it sure would give my phone battery and hands some relief.” He chuckled as you scoffed in mock indignation. “You don’t have to tell me anythin’ you don’t want to about whoever you get involved with. As long as you’re stayin’ safe and they’re treatin’ you as well as I do, then I’m okay with it.”
You sighed in consideration. “Let me think about it some more,” you said, picking at your rental’s bedspread. “It’s not something I’m going to take lightly.”
And then two weeks later, you met Frankie. Frankie was surprisingly relaxed when you told him about Joel, albeit surprised. He’d hesitated to continue things until you got on the phone with Joel and had him tell Frankie himself. After all, you’d checked with Joel within a few days of meeting Frankie just to make sure Joel was still okay with you being with another man.
You made sure to tell Joel when you’d be seeing Frankie, and Frankie didn’t contact you when you were back home with Joel. It wasn’t that either man wanted to pretend the other didn’t exist; rather, they each wanted to respect the other man’s time with you. Frankie wasn’t seeking marriage or starting a family; he wanted to continue using his time and energy on Isabella and getting his career back on track. And Joel was confident in and comfortable with your  marriage in a way that didn’t allow for unseemly jealousy to crop up. 
Gradually you told each of them bits about the other one, until one day Joel suggested that the two of them meet. You were game, but wanted to run it by Frankie first.
“He wants to meet me?” Frankie asked, wringing his hands a bit and looking mildly surprised. The two of you had just finished dinner at one of your favorite taco trucks in LA, and you licked the tips of your fingers as you finished your last al pastor taco, the warm, savory spices dancing on your tongue. Frankie took a sip from his Mexican Coke, his plush lips wrapping around the cool aqua glass of the bottle.
You nod your head in affirmation. “Just for a couple of days. We could make a vacation out of it. Joel suggested maybe we road trip up the coast.”
Frankie looked pensive. You don’t blame him, especially when the two men had made a concerted effort to keep their relationships with you separate. “You’re sure you want to do this?” Frankie asked, searching your eyes for any hesitation. You studied those dark chocolate irises, so similar to Joel’s. 
“Yes, Francisco,” you confirmed, reaching out across the plastic picnic table to touch his hand. The sounds of the city wrapped around you as the two of you gazed at each other. “Joel has my heart, but so do you. And I want both parts of my heart, my favorites, to be with me at the same time for once.”
“Ok, mi amor, let’s go then,” Frankie said resolutely, bringing up your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your skin.
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Your thoughts bring you back to the present, with Frankie’s one-hand grip on the steering wheel and the warm coastal sun beaming through the windshield. The windows are down, allowing the salty sea air to filter through the Jeep. He flips on his turn signal and begins driving through a particularly posh part of Malibu. Giant mansions dwarf the street, pristine lawns and modern, open-glass architecture rolling by as you continue on. You let out a low whistle.
“Jesus Christ, what the hell does Santi do again to afford this?” you ask Frankie, eyes flicking to and from each house you pass by.
“Nothing,” Frankie chuckles. “When we got the money from that final mission that Santi and I went on, he invested the entirety of his share into the stock market. Well, almost everything.” He snorts at the champagne Range Rover in Santi’s driveway as the two of you pull up. Frankie, on the other hand, put the majority of his earnings into a trust fund for Isabella. The rest he used to set himself up comfortably but modestly. “Santi still does some consultant work for private security firms, but he just keeps reinvesting the money and using it to buy property and fund charity work,” Frankie explains.
“Can’t say I blame him, it’s a pretty solid strategy,” you respond, taking in the splendor of Santi’s Malibu abode as Frankie parks his Jeep. The three-story home is minimalist and modern on the exterior, with a combination of cool beige stone and warm wood paneling. No other houses are on either side of the building, so the property is ulta-private, and even has its own beach. As the two of you unpack your bags from the car, you hear a wolf whistle shriek from somewhere around the corner. Jumping slightly, you turn and then smile as Santiago Garcia strolls barefoot out of the house, his pale linen slacks and caramel vintage ribbed polo shirt fluttering lightly against his muscular frame in the sea breeze. 
“Hey pendejo, you finally made it!” Santi yells to Frankie, then turns to you with a “hi, hermosa,” and a kiss to your cheek. You wrap your arms around Santi’s torso, inhaling his sandalwood and cinnamon scent and giggling a hello. Frankie walks up, bags in hand, and tries to ruffle Santi’s perfectly coiffed curls. Santi dodges him and then goes in for a bear hug; Frankie smiles broadly as they rock side to side before clapping each other on the back.
“Good to see you, hermano, and thanks for letting us stay with you,” Frankie says warmly as he picks up your luggage and the three of you head towards the house.
“Not a problem, I’m in town for a consulting gig and figured it’d been awhile since we’d gotten together,” Santi responds ahead of you. You and Frankie follow him into the open-concept common area, admiring the sleek countertops, stainless steel fixtures, and plush yet subdued furniture. Light neutrals rule the color palette, with plenty of floor-to-ceiling windows to allow natural light in. You run your hand over the back of a velvet lounger, indulging in the texture against your fingertips. Frankie goes to the bedroom to drop off your luggage, while Santi starts pulling things out in the kitchen for dinner prep. Continuing towards the back of the house, you push open the sliding glass doors, letting fresh air in while you admire the view from the balcony. Below, the azure waves caress the sand gently, and the sound of the ocean encourages you to release all the stress from the last workweek. 
The boys get going on dinner as you slip on a silky emerald green dress - opting to go braless and barefoot - and dab on some rosy lip stain. The dress drapes lushly over your body, making it both comfortable and beautiful. After spritzing on some of your favorite perfume and putting on thin gold hoop earrings, you emerge from the guest bedroom you and Frankie are sharing for the weekend. Santi looks up and hums in approval.
“Damn, bebita, you look delicious,” he purrs as he finishes seasoning the steaks. “Do you always dress up for dinner with this chump or did you get pretty just for me? It’s okay, you can tell the truth.”
You roll your eyes at his cockiness and chuckle as you squeeze his bicep in passing. “Santi, don’t flatter yourself,” you retort, “I did it for myself. I don’t need to dress up for him to want to devour me.” You cross the kitchen to Frankie, who’s working on the caprese salad. Frankie huffs a laugh and puts down the kitchen knife, wiping his hands on a towel before to circling his hands around your waist. You lean into him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.
“That’s right,” he shoots back to Santi without looking over, “she doesn’t need extra dressing up; she’s stunning enough as she is.” He kisses your forehead softly as you gaze up at him lovingly.
“You’re right.” Santi lets his gaze scan over you approvingly. “She probably looks even better with nothing on.”
“Santiago!” you laugh. “You’re such an insufferable flirt.” You walk back over to the opposite side of the kitchen island from him, fixing him with a smoldering smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know, hmm?” Santi has always been relentlessly flirtatious with every attractive woman he meets, including you. Frankie’s never bothered by his antics, but you see his eyes flick towards the two of you, anticipating his response.
“Don’t tease me with promises you won’t keep, sweetheart,” Santi warns you, voice like rich caramel, sweet and smooth. You hold each other’s gazes for a moment before you break away, laughing softly and successfully ruffling his hair like Frankie wanted to earlier. That distracts Santi from the moment, as he huffs and runs his fingers through his curls to fix them.
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A few hours later, the three of you are relaxing on the balcony by the fire pit after dinner, drinking mezcal margaritas and catching up on life. You sit with your legs across the cream  patio sofa, your back against Frankie’s side like you often do with him. His arm is draped possessively across your torso while his thumb rubs absentmindedly back and forth across your shoulder. Santi goes inside to fetch the mezcal bottle from the kitchen, having switched to just the liquor, and you stand from the couch to observe the beach at the balcony’s railing. The darkness of night has settled over the landscape, lending deep navies and turquoise hues to the water, and everything feels more hushed. 
As you inhale the coastal breeze, you feel Frankie’s warm body press into you from behind, and then his soft lips pressing a trail of kisses over your shoulder and neck. You hum happily, smelling his rosemary cedar soap on his skin, and press yourself further into him, lightly grinding against his hips. Frankie lets out a quiet groan and presses right back into you, letting you feel his hardening length against your ass. He begins to cup your breasts through the silken fabric of your dress, easily pebbling your nipples with no bra between his fingers and your tits. The heat of arousal starts to pool low in your belly as Frankie slides his hands down to your hips, grinding on you until he’s fully hard beneath his pants. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes, and turn to the side to catch his lips, biting on his lower one and eliciting a louder groan from him. 
“Sweetness, I need you so badly,” Frankie whispers into your ear. When you quietly moan in response, you can feel Frankie’s hands slip down the silk over your ass and hear him shuffle behind you. Spinning around and opening your eyes, you see him on his knees, hat next to him on the floor, starting to ruck up your dress. 
“Frankie,” you hiss, grabbing his hands, desperate for more but concerned. “What if Santi sees?” 
“What if I want to watch?” you hear suddenly over Frankie’s shoulder, and you gasp when you look behind him and realize Santi is leaning against the open balcony door, sipping mezcal straight from the bottle. A fire ripples from the base of your spine upwards, and your gaze drops to Frankie, whose eyes have gone nearly black with desire but remain on you. Your lips pop open slightly, and you freeze.
“Well, querida, answer the man,” Frankie rasps. “Either you let him watch or make him go back inside, but either way, I’m eating this sweet pussy.” His hands slowly drag up your legs until he’s cupping your ass, squeezing the soft flesh, which rips a moan from your throat. As Frankie’s lips trail up and down your legs, you look back up at Santi, trying to read his expression. Gone is the molten chocolate of his irises; instead, you see glimmering adamant, dark and deep like the desire painted over every line of his face. But that heated gaze is still respectful – you know Santi would never cross your boundaries. If you truly didn’t want him to watch, he’d go inside the house, no questions asked. 
It’s for that exact reason that your desire thrums through you like a bass line, and you bite your lip. “Frankie, I need your mouth on me right now. I think Santi needs to see how hard you make me come.”
Frankie responds with a groan, while Santi lets out a deep purring sound. He moves to the couch, sitting with his legs spread, and takes another swig of mezcal as he takes in the sight before him. Frankie immediately yanks your soft lace panties down your thighs, and growls at the gossamer-thin string of arousal that connects your weeping center with your underwear.
“Fuuuuck, querida, you’re fucking soaked,” Frankie moans, inhaling the intoxicating scent near your glossy slit. You step out of your panties, and he grabs them, tossing them to Santi. The man on the couch catches them with one hand, bringing them immediately to his nose and sniffing deeply. 
“Goddamn,” Santi grits out, “she smells so fucking good, hermano.” He brings the gusset of the lace garment to his mouth, gingerly licking the slick off, groaning at the taste. You gasp at the sight, a wave of wetness trickling down your channel. “Tastes amazing too,” he adds, leaning back into the couch cushions and stuffing your panties into his pocket.
Frankie pushes your dress up to your waist and moves your left thigh to rest on his shoulder, spreading you open. He splays your lips open with his thumbs, staring at your pussy glistening in the fire’s light, on display for both him and Santi. He licks a steady strip from the bottom to the top, swirling around your clit at the end. You moan loudly, leaning back against the railing for support.
“Oh bebita, listen to those sweet sounds you’re making for Frankie,” Santi croons from the couch. “He must be making that pussy feel so good.”
“Yes, Santi,” you gasp, swallowing thickly as your eyes close in pleasure. “He’s so fucking good with his tongue.” You hear Santi rumble deep in his chest in response.
Frankie begins licking, sucking, and tapping on your clit exactly like he knows you like it, gripping your cheeks with both hands and massaging them. You writhe against his face, rocketing faster towards your impending orgasm. When you look up, you see Santi palming his cock through his pants, the bulge straining against the linen. Your cunt clenches at the image before you. Frankie can tell you’re close, so he slips two of his fingers into his mouth momentarily to slick them up and then plunges them into your warm cunt. You throw your head back, nearly screaming in ecstasy. Your grip tightens on the railing.
“I know you’re close, querida,” Frankie growls. “Let Santi see how pretty you look when you come.” Frankie then hooks his fingers just right inside of you and hits that soft spot that sends you into orbit, squealing. You feel everything tighten and then release, your orgasm rippling through your core and into your extremities. Frankie and Santi both moan at the sights and sounds of you reaching your peak, Frankie lapping up every drop of release from you.
“Good fucking girl, mamacita,” Santi says, getting up from the couch and stalking towards the both of you. Frankie gets off of his knees, easing your leg off his shoulder while wiping a hand across his drenched mouth. He knows exactly what Santi wants, so he moves back a couple of steps. You almost stumble, legs like jelly, and Santi catches your waist.
He tilts your chin up to meet his eyes, and his assessing gaze breaks through the post-orgasm haze you’re in. “I really want to taste that perfect cunt, baby,” Santi whispers. “Can I do that for you?” You look at him, hesitating for a moment only because this is a line you’ve not crossed with Santi before. You nod clearly at him. Santi shakes his head. “Words, sweetheart.”
“Yes, Santi,” you breathe. “Please put your mouth on me.” Santi groans in anticipation and starts walking backwards, pulling you with him. When you look at him in slight confusion, a sheepish smile passes briefly over his lips.
“Bad knees,” he reminds you, and you laugh. “Kneeling on concrete would kill me.” He tilts his chin to Frankie. “Fish, open the door to the bedroom. I’m gonna lay her down. And bring the bottle.” Frankie obliges, sliding open the other glass door to the expansive bedroom and grabbing the mezcal bottle.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispers. You sigh a yes, and Santi kisses you softly at first, then deeper. He tastes like cinnamon, tropical fruits, and smoky liquor. Moaning quietly, you start to lose yourself in his kiss as he moves the both of you backwards into the bedroom. 
The California king size bed is draped in soft taupes and creams, the bedding a gauzy cotton that feels incredible on your skin as Santi gently lays you on it. He pulls your dress up your body, and you arch your back to help him remove it over your head. As your bare body is exposed to him, glowing in the low light, he sucks in a breath. Frankie places the mezcal bottle on the bedside table, then strips out of everything except his black boxer briefs, his length fully hard against his left thigh, and sits down on a sleek chaise lounger in the corner, watching you and Santi.
Santi strips off his shirt and then climbs onto the bed over you, slowly sliding his hands over your soft skin as he goes. You shift on the bed at his touch, back arching a bit and thighs rubbing together. He keeps his eyes locked with yours as he reaches your head, forearms bracketing either side of your face. His body is so close to yours yet not touching.
Moaning, you tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper curls and pull briefly. Santi bites your lower lip in response with a small growl. Sitting up, he grabs the mezcal off the bedside table.
“Open,” he commands, taking a swig from the glass bottle. You obey, and Santi leans over your open mouth and fucking spits the mezcal into it. You swallow, moaning at the taste, the alcohol and him. He kisses you roughly, licking into your mouth, and you whimper, your legs dropping open of their own accord.
Santi notices and chuckles darkly. “Oh, you liked that, huh?” he purrs. “Dirty girl.” He kisses and nips along your ear and neck, across your collarbone, and down your chest. Reaching your nipples, he swirls his tongue around and then gently nips each of them. You feel slick pooling at your entrance, starting to drip down your inner thighs. Santi traces his tongue down your belly and to the curls above your pussy, inhaling deeply. He pushes your thighs open further and groans at the sight.
“Goddamn, you’re drenched,” he grits out, shuffling down to put his face at your center. You glance over at Frankie in the corner, and notice he has his cock out, slowly stroking the length. You whimper at the sight and Frankie licks his lips. You feel a sudden pinch at your inner thigh and whip your head back to the man between your legs.
“Eyes on me, hermosa,” Santi orders. “I want you to look right at me when I eat this pretty pussy.” And with that, he dives in.
Santi is a messier lover than Frankie, who usually eats you out with absolute precision, priding himself with knowing exactly how to make you come as fast as possible, and repeat the process until you’re crying out from overstimulation. Santi, however, is licking at you like he wants to drown himself in your cunt. His tongue is everywhere, licking broad stripes across your slit, sucking on your lips and clit, biting at your thighs, shoving his tongue deep into your channel. 
“So fucking sweet,” Santi pants out in a daze, separating his mouth from your sopping cunt for just a moment, and then goes back in for more. You mewl and grip the bed sheets as he continues to ravage you.
Your moans of pleasure stir something in Frankie, who gets up from his seat and walks over to the bed, his need to touch you nearly insatiable.
“Frankie,” you whine as you see him, your eyes hazy with lust, reaching out to him. 
“I’m right here, querida,” he reassures you, then gets onto the bed, placing himself behind you. You scooch up the bed so that you’re sitting in between his spread legs, your back to his bare chest. You can feel his hard length against you, silken and hot, his precum smearing slick against your skin. Frankie kisses your forehead, then leans forward and grabs your legs behind the knees, pulling back and spreading you impossibly wider for Santi. The man between your thighs groans, slipping two fingers into you, making your back arch even more.
“Does our little slut like to be spread out? Do you like Frankie holding your legs open for me, bebita?” Santi growls, pumping his fingers in and out of you. You cry out at his words, throwing your head back against Frankie’s shoulder. One of your hands grabs Frankie’s thigh, and the other one grips Santi’s hair once again.
“Yes,” you respond, pushing his head back towards your dripping slit. “Lick my pussy like you mean it, Santi.” He groans deep in his chest and dives back in, and you feel Frankie bite the junction between your neck and shoulder in arousal. Santi continues pumping his fingers into you as he sucks your clit between his lips, swirling his tongue over it in tiny circles. You feel your orgasm begin to rise in your lower belly, intensifying with each thrust and lick. Santi feels your slick walls bear down on his fingers.
“That’s it, honey, I know you want to come for me,” Santi says.
“Give it to us,” Frankie whispers in your ear. “Come for me and Santi.”
Frankie’s command is all it takes to snap the tether in your core, shattering you into pieces as the pleasure courses hot through your body. You scream their names as your pussy gushes wave after wave of slick, running down your thighs and Santi’s fingers, into his waiting mouth, licking and slurping obscenely, his fingers continuing to press into your g-spot to prolong your high.
“God, I need to be inside you right fucking now,” Santi grits out, pussydrunk. He stands up and hurriedly shoves his pants and boxers down his legs, his thick cock springing free and bobbing slightly. You feel your mouth water; his dick is just as gorgeous as Frankie’s. 
Santi meets your eyes once again. “Do you want me to fuck you while Frankie holds you open, sweetheart?” Santi asks you. You pause, your pleasure-addled mind narrowing in on one idea – having them both.
“I want you both,” you moan. Santi’s eyes widen a bit and then dart to Frankie. They share a smirk and then Frankie turns to you in his lap.
“Querida, how do you want us?” Frankie inquires. “One at a time or at the same time?”
“At the same time,” you whimper. “I want you both in my pussy.”
Santi and Frankie groan in unison. Santi smiles wickedly, looking at Frankie. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, eh?”
“Just like we used to,” Frankie chuckles darkly, and your fuzzy mind tucks away their exchange for later. “We have to get her ready, then.” He slowly releases your knees and turns to you, kissing the side of your face and lightly nibbling your ear. He grabs your chin gently with his fingers, turning your head sideways to meet his eyes. “We’re going to work you open first, okay, baby?” he intones softly. You nod your head yes. Santi and Frankie’s eyes meet, and Santi opens the bedside table drawer, grabbing a bottle of lube and tossing it to Frankie. 
He catches it, reading the label. “Guava?” Frankie asks quizzically. “What happened to the mango-pineapple one?”
Santi shrugs. “I still have it,” he explains, “but guava goes better with pussy and mezcal.” You huff a laugh and Frankie smiles, kissing your forehead again and sweeping your hair out of your face.
“Guess we have an edible lube connoisseur here,” jokes Frankie, opening the cap and pouring some of the slick liquid onto his thick digits. 
The sweet, juicy fruit scent wafts through the air, and Santi grabs the bottle from him, doing the same while shaking his head incredulously.“It’s not my fault that you have no sense of refinement,” he retorts. Frankie just rolls his eyes and turns back to you.
“Are you ready, sweetness?” Frankie murmurs. You nod your head and breathe out a “yes, baby”. Frankie reaches in front of himself and slips his two lubed fingers into you, and you whimper softly. Santi follows suit, slipping two of his fingers into you next, kneeling between your legs. You feel stretched full but so turned on. They allow you a few moments to adjust, and when you nod your head, they begin swirling their fingers in opposite directions. A moan rips from your throat and you grab at the bedsheets. They continue swirling and pressing their fingers in and out, and the sight of your pussy filled with their fingers gets the both of them rock hard.
The cloud of euphoria in your head is all-consuming as they continue, your arousal reaching an almost painful peak. Suddenly you grab their wrists and both men stop immediately, concern crossing their faces. “Are you okay, bebita?” Frankie asks, his brows furrowing. 
You nod your head rapidly, and then bleat out, “I need you both inside me right now.” Santi and Frankie grin at your fucked out expression, looking at each other conspiratorially.
“Well, you heard the lady, Pope,” Frankie says. “Let’s give her what she wants.” He shifts you forward as he moves to the side, pulling his underwear all the way off. He lays on his back on the bed, his hard cock against his stomach dripping pre-cum. “I want you to ride me, hermosa, and then Santi is going to enter you from behind as you lean forward,” Frankie explains.
You nod your head in understanding and straddle his thighs, facing him. Frankie hands you the lube bottle. You dribble a stream onto his waiting thickness, and he hisses as the cool liquid hits his hot velvet skin. Grabbing his slick length, you shuffle forward and guide him into your channel, whining when he bottoms out easily. Frankie reaches up and grips your hips, guiding you to ride him.
After a minute, he looks over your shoulder at Santi, who is slowly stroking his dick. “I think she’s ready, Fish,” Santi says, and Frankie nods once. Santi gets on the bed, coming to his knees behind you and grabbing your hips. Frankie slides his hands to your back, gently pulling you towards him until you’re leaning forward, laying chest to chest, your pussy on full display for Santi, stuffed with Frankie’s cock. You hear Santi groan behind you at the sight.
“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this, bebita,” Santi admits as he slicks up his hardness with the lube. “Been thinking about being inside this pussy for months.”
“Well, now’s your chance,” you tease, looking back at him. “Better hurry before the offer expires.” Santi smirks at you as he places his hands on your hips.
The moment you feel the head of Santi’s cock slide into your pussy, you gasp as the sting of the stretch hits you. You hear Santi behind you grit out a quiet “fuck”. Slowly he continues sinking into your hot, wet heat. Reaching forward, he circles your throbbing clit softly, making you whine but relax, allowing him to slip deeper into you, inch by inch. Your pussy twitches and both Santi and Frankie choke on moans. 
When he fills you as far as you can take both of them, the three of you hold still. As the seconds pass, the sting gives way as you adjust to being this full. The result is rolling waves of lightning sparking through your veins with each minute movement inside of you. You let out a high-pitched whine as a knot of white-hot pleasure tightens in your core.
“Mierda, bebita,” Frankie moaned, “are you gonna come just from both of us being in you?”
“God, she feels so fucking good,” Santi murmurs, almost to himself. Both of them are gripping you tightly as you continue to whimper and whine, your high quickly building. Your breathing intensifies, and you start to shake. 
It’s so much, being so full of them physically, and the thought of them both in you - two of the most attractive, sexy men you know - is nearly making you lose your mind. But you don’t want to come before your boys have even gotten to move. It almost feels like a weakness, being this fucked out for them.
“It’s ok, sweetness, let go,” says Frankie softly, realizing you’re holding off for them. He presses a kiss to your neck and it’s your undoing. 
The brush of his lips against that sensitive spot right under your ear pushes you off the edge and you wail, your pleasure cresting as you jerk under their firm grips. They moan loudly, your pleasure stoking theirs. The three of you catch your breaths as you come down from your high.
Frankie looks up at you, eyes pitch black, swimming with devotion for you. Santi strokes your hips gently, his strong hands shaking slightly.
“How are you feeling?” Frankie asks you sweetly, rubbing his hands across your back, his thighs clenching from holding back. 
You take a shaky breath. “So fucking full,” you respond, and then giggle softly at your obvious observation. The boys laugh too, and then moan slightly as your bodies shift. Santi squeezes your hips and asks, “Are you ready for us to move, hermosa?” Your head is swimming in endorphins as you whimper out, “Yes, Santi. I need both of you to fuck me now.”
With that, the two men lock eyes and nod, beginning an apparently practiced dance of their cocks. As Frankie slides himself out, Santi pushes in, and then they reverse roles. You cry out in ecstasy. It’s so much more than you could have ever imagined.
Frankie and Santi start off with slow, shallow thrusts in and out, gradually stretching you around their lengths. When Frankie hits a particularly sweet spot, you moan fervently and more slick coats them, making them both moan back in response. The friction between their cocks and your walls is delicious.
“Fuck, bebita, you look incredible taking the both of us,” Santi says, gripping your hips harder, a sheen of sweat glimmering across his body. 
Frankie hums in agreement. “You’re doing so well, baby,” he praises. You preen at their words, arching your back to change the angle. Santi whimpers and kisses along your spine, worshiping your body. The room is thick with the smell of sex, guava, and mezcal, the squelching sounds of your pussy weaving between all three of your moans and cries of pleasure.
The boys begin to speed up the wetter you get, starting to fuck into you with vigor. You feel like your whole body is vibrating. Leaning down to kiss Frankie changes the angle once again, and Santi lets out yet another whimper as you slide your tongue along Frankie’s.
“Fuck, baby, just like that, that’s perfect,” he gasps, getting even harder inside of you. He starts to rub your clit in tight circles, making you yelp. “I want you to come one more time for us before we fill you up,” he continues. “Gonna make your pussy milk our cocks. C’mon, honey, you’ve got one more in you, I can feel it.”
“I don’t know,” you whimper. “I - it’s so much…”
Frankie lets out a growl. “Oh, querida, I know you can come for us one more time,” he says. “Just think about how full of cock you are right now.”
He’s right. The psychological thrill of having both men inside of you is the push you need. You start to shake again, everything tensing up. Both men moan as your channel pulls tight.
Santi leans down to your ear, still thumbing your clit. “Fucking come for us. That’s an order.”
You scream so loudly when your fourth orgasm hits you, that you’re grateful that Santi has no neighbors - because they definitely would have called the cops by now. Tears leak down your face from the intensity, and Santi whimpers loudly as he thrusts in and comes deep in you, his hot seed coating your walls. The tightness of your pussy and Santi shoving deep end up pushing Frankie’s cock out, but he couldn’t care less. 
When Santi’s strokes slow and then stop, indicating he’s finished, Frankie pushes him off of you, and roughly flips you over onto your back. He shoves your legs apart, and pushes his dick harshly into you. Boneless, you lay there, moaning and taking it, unable to say anything coherent except for Frankie’s name. Your boyfriend presses your legs even further towards your shoulders, nearly bending you in half as he fucks into you hard and fast, Santi’s cum forced out of you with every snap of Frankie’s hips.
“God, you look like such a goddess right now,” Frankie babbles, nearly snarling, “so full of cum. You like that? You want me to fill you up good? You’re gonna be leaking our cum for days, querida.”
“Yes, Frankie, yes,” you moan, “please fill me up. I love your cum in me. I wanna be so full of both of you.”
With a shout, Frankie bares his teeth and comes, getting as deep as possible and filling up your cunt just like he promised. You feel his cum thick and hot in you, triggering another moan. 
Frankie drops your knees back down to the bed, nearly collapsing down against your chest while the two of you pant heavily, trying to catch your breaths. Looking over, you spot Santi sitting up at the corner of the bed, looking disheveled but utterly sated, his now-soft cock still shiny with lube and your combined releases. 
You reach your hand out to him, and he crawls towards you, slotting himself next to one side, while Frankie hisses as he pulls out of you and lays next to you on your other side. He smothers your neck and face with kisses, and you giggle, feeling Santi pepper kisses across the top of your head and stroking the underside of your breast affectionately with his thumb.
You let out a contented sigh. “Wow, that was…”
Frankie hums out an “incredible” at the exact same time Santi rumbles a “so fucking good” to complete your statement, which makes the three of you laugh. Giggles subsiding, something they said in the heat of the moment suddenly pops into your mind.
“Wait a second,” you say as you sit up. Both men lazily look up at you, faces blissed out, waiting for your question. “Frankie, you said, ‘just like old times’... How many times have you double teamed with Santi?”
The two of them look at each other with nearly identical smirks. Santi pipes up first. “Well, back in our Army grunt days,” he explains, “when we’d go on leave together, we kind of had this habit of teaming up to pick up women.” Your jaw drops slightly, and Santi looks amused at your shock.
“It was a fairly effective strategy,” Frankie continues. “Trying to land a girl alone was a crapshoot. But with the both of us offering her a night to remember?” Frankie huffs. “It seemed like fantasy fulfillment for almost every woman we fucked together.”
Your eyes rake over the two of them, gloriously naked and handsome as ever, in bed with you. Yeah, you can see the appeal. 
“Okay, but who came up with the idea?” You ask, then immediately put up a hand into the air. “WAIT, no, I know exactly who… Santi, you slut!”
Frankie lets out a loud bark of a laugh as Santi rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his chest, annoyed. 
“Hey, don’t act like you didn’t benefit from it, idiota!” Santi grumbles. Frankie reaches over, finally successfully ruffling Santi’s hair. Santi flinches and bats Frankie’s hand away, making you shake with laughter as you lounge in the post-coital haze with your boyfriend and his best friend. You don’t blame those women they slept with one bit. This was a night you will surely remember.
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No pressure tags: @mermaidgirl30 @legendary-pink-dot @nerdieforpedro @mountainsandmayhem @arcanefox207 @campingwiththecharmings @exquisit3corpse @gutsby @honeyedmiller @lavendertales @lu62 @luxurychristmaspudding @ozarkthedog @qveerthe0ry @swiftispunk @sheepdogchick3 @thatshortgirlwithglasses @wannab-urs @musings-of-a-rose
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honeyedmiller · 1 year
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Joel Miller Masterlist
* indicates smut. 18+, minors do not interact.
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one shots:
Tailgate*
-> your best friend drags you to a tailgate party, and you end up being introduced to one very attractive miller brother.
A Forever Thing
-> you and joel have been trying for a baby since the night you two married, but haven’t had any luck—until you do.
Help Me Forget*
-> joel and tommy stumble upon an unexpected body in the snow on their patrol, and they bring the person back to jackson with them.
Pout*
-> joel’s noticed you’ve been working a little too hard, and he misses you. he decides to use his all-consuming charm to coax you to relax… in more ways than one.
Forbidden Fruit*
-> you return back home from college after graduating with your master’s degree, and joel miller is surprised to see how much you’ve really grown up.
Shotgun*
-> you and joel smoke together for the first time.
Ride, Cowgirl*
-> you tell joel one of your fantasies that’d been on the back burner, but he encourages you to bring it to life.
Love Me Tender
-> after a terrible mental week, joel checks in on you and makes sure you’re taken care of.
Something in the Orange
-> you and joel enjoy a peaceful autumn morning together.
Ring*
-> tommy teases joel about you and him having marriage problems when he notices you aren’t wearing your wedding ring.
Mask*
-> joel throws his annual halloween party, and you’re both determined to settle your aching need for each other.
Mystery
-> tommy drags joel to a club which he detests to, until he sets his sights on you.
Checkmate – blurb*
-> screwing your dad’s best friend shouldn’t feel this good.
Checkmate – one shot*
-> you and your dad’s best friend play a dangerous game, and one of you ends up losing faster than you both anticipated.
Nobody Does It Like You Do*
-> good girls always get rewarded.
Birthday Girl*
-> joel gives you a sweet surprise on your birthday.
Traditions*
-> you and joel make holiday traditions in your new home.
Sweet Thing*
-> the most unlikely pair in jackson just can’t get enough of each other.
A Merry Little Christmas
-> christmas morning at the miller household is always chaotic in the sweetest way possible.
Dawn’s First Light*
-> joel tells you he loves you for the first time.
Hiraeth*
-> the most invigorating and intoxicating drug you’ve had in your life is completely forbidden—and then there’s weed.
Real Love, Baby
-> joel has a bad day at work, but seeing you dancing in the kitchen makes it all better.
An Ode to Forever*
-> after an arduous day, joel draws a bath to help you both relax.
or
an ode to how much you love joel miller, and he, you.
The Hills*
-> drugs. sex. fame. joel miller. something about hollywood or other. it all seems to become a blurred line when you get invited to an oscars after party at a house in the hills.
Sweet*
-> it’s a lazy sunday, and joel prefers to have his coffee in bed with a side of you.
Clouded*
-> saturdays are meant for errands and chores. joel convinces you otherwise just for once.
Pretty Little Thing*
-> it’s summertime and you’re working at a retro diner on the outskirts of austin. you’ve seen many faces and heard many voices all in a passing blur; ones you’ve never really payed any mind to—until one handsome southern gentleman in particular catches your special attention, and he’s got a voice you’d recognize anywhere—one that’s gotten you off more times than you’d like to admit.
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drabbles:
Angel*
Sir*
[untitled]*
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series:
Fate, After All*
-> your mom thinks it’s a bright idea to keep setting you up on blind date after blind date. none of them work in your favor—until one unintentionally does.
Law of Attraction*
-> you and your criminal law professor have an undeniable attraction toward each other. it’s only natural that you both explore that attraction—but navigating a dynamic like that is never as simple as it seems.
A Burning Desire (ongoing)*
-> you were fine with being single, basking in the freedom and independence of it all—until a handsome firefighter walks into your life and completely flips your world around.
Yours, Always (on hold)*
-> in which you find an old mixtape made by the one that got away.
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