theunseenlibrary

[theunseenlibrary]

it's alright, darlin'

Joel Miller x f!reader | 4.1k | 18+ | masterlist | ao3

summary: so, getting trapped in an elevator with the hot contractor you've seen around the office was not on your to-do list for today... but maybe it's just what you needed.

a/n: this is my entry for @toomanystoriessolittletime's 47 minutes in heaven challenge! it was fun to write Joel again but now I feel like I'm fighting him off with a stick (it's Din's turn!!). thank you to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta!!

tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, stuck in an elevator, reader works in an office building (no specifics), reader has a panic attack and is afraid of elevators, reader says she's not good with small spaces and heights, breathing exercises, no outbreak or pre-outbreak?, you decide, pet name (darlin', gorgeous, honey), reader wears pants and is mentioned to wear a black dress, reader sits in Joel's lap, smut: kissing, grinding, fingering, some dirty talk

...

When the elevator doors closed with only you and him inside, you tensed.

When the whole thing shuddered and came to a stop, somewhere between floors 8 and 9, you knew you were fucked. 

…

You’d seen him for the first time a couple of weeks before — he was with the group that was renovating the offices on the other side of your floor. He’d been standing with his back to you, arms crossed, talking to another man and sometimes gesturing at a wall. It seemed like they disagreed about something. 

You’d noticed him immediately — broad shoulders, strong arms, hair you wanted to bury your fingers in. Slim hips with a tool belt slung across them. Then he’d turned around and, well. 

He was gorgeous. Tan skin, warm brown eyes, even under his furrowed brow (they really were arguing about something). A scruffy beard. He was so much your type, so attractive, that you almost walked into the open door to the break room. 

He didn’t see you, thank god, but the other guy did. When you looked back up after catching yourself before you face planted, he was grinning at you. He winked at you over the gorgeous man’s shoulder. You felt your entire body turn hot and you ran. 

And that had only been the beginning. 

…

You were in a hurry, searching through your bag for your ID to swipe into the building, barely looking where you were going, when you bumped into him for the second time.

Literally bumped into him.

You weren’t sure exactly what happened, but you went from walking forwards to almost falling without even noticing anything in between. Suddenly you were sideways, on your way down, and the only thing holding you up was two big strong hands, firmly supporting your elbows. 

You reached out to steady yourself and as you looked up, you realized it was him. The absurdly hot contractor who was working on your floor. 

And your hands were flat against his chest while his held you in place. 

He started to smile and you felt your face start to burn.

“Shit,” you said, wincing. “Sorry, did I just walk into you?”

He was really smiling, then. “No, that’s alright. I think we just happened to walk into each other.” His voice was warm and deep and his accent made you shiver. 

You squinted at him, pretty sure he was full of shit. “If you say so. Um, thank you, for–” You looked down and saw that he was definitely holding you up. You stood straighter. “For catching me, I guess.”

“Oh, anytime, darlin’. My pleasure,” he said, lightly squeezing your arms and then releasing them. You realized your hands were still on his chest and dropped them like they’d been burned. 

You might have actually talked to him, then, but your coworker had called your name from behind you and you’d taken the out, scurrying away like an embarrassed rat.

(You didn’t look back, or you would have seen him watching you go.)

…

The third time, you were in your office, focused on a spreadsheet. You had your legs folded underneath you in a way that you knew looked ridiculous in your desk chair, and you were hunched forward, squinting at the screen. You were going to find that error, damnit. 

And that’s when he’d cleared his throat.

Startled, you’d tried to jump out of your seat, but instead only gotten more tangled in it. Your foot flew through the loop of the arm and you found yourself straddling the arm rest somehow. 

You looked up to see the hot contractor trying not to smile. Of course.

“Um,” you said, trying to find a graceful way to disentangle yourself from an inanimate piece of office furniture. “What… did you need something?”

He smiled, then, and you blinked, taken aback again by how handsome he was. “I just wanted to apologize in advance, we’re going to make a bit of noise across the way for about the next 45 minutes.” He stepped forward and lifted his hands and you realized he was going to try to help you. “Do you need—“

“Oh,” you interrupted, finally surreptitiously standing and fishing your leg out of your chair. “That’s alright, I’ve got headphones. But thanks!” You hopped slightly to the side and finally found yourself standing with both feet on the ground. You did not make a face. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem,” he said, still smiling. “Sorry again, for startling you.”

“It’s fine!” You tried to smile your way through it. “I’ll just–”

He nodded, and ducked out.

You sighed. Again?

…

By the time you found yourself trapped in the elevator with him, you were pretty sure you were destined to make a fool of yourself every time he so much as glanced at you.

On top of that, you were afraid of elevators.

When the car shuddered and came to a halt, you froze. You felt your heart begin to race like the worst kind of panic attack was just around the corner. You blinked, dazed, and then realized the lights were flickering.

“No, no, no,” you murmured, turning to look at the buttons. “No, please,” you said, stepping forwards and pressing the call button. 

Nothing happened.

You could feel it, then, the oncoming panic attack, and this was not the time, you tried to tell yourself.

“Hey,” a soft voice interrupted. You whirled around, startled. You’d forgotten he was there. “You alright?”

He stepped towards you and you didn’t know what your face was doing, but clearly it wasn’t good, because he stopped. 

“Hey,” he said again, voice deeper, more soothing. “We’re ok.” Not a question this time. “S’probably just to do with the construction we’re doin’. I’ll call my brother – he’s my business partner, you’ve probably seen him around. I’ll call him and make sure. Ok?”

You nodded, and you felt yourself start to shake. You backed up until you hit the wall and slid down until you could curl yourself into a ball, arms wrapped around your knees, head ducked. You could hear him having a short conversation but tried to focus on your breathing. 

In-2-3-4

Out-2-3-4

In-2-3-4

Out-2–

“Hey,” there were shoes in your line of sight. You raised your head and found him squatting about a foot away from you. “S’just a power issue. They’ll have it back on line in about 45 minutes, alright?” 

You blinked. “45–” you tried to repeat, but your voice came out like a gasp for air.

He frowned and reached forward hesitantly. You nodded, and he rested his hand on your elbow. “We’re not in any danger, alright? Brakes have got us. We’ll just sit tight until they fix it and then we’ll get out.”

He was right, you knew he was, but that didn’t stop your heart from racing or your short, uneven breaths.

“I–” you tried, but it didn’t come out. 

“Hey,” and that time it was even deeper, soothing. He scooted forward and sat next to you. “Look at me, darlin’. Give me your hand.” 

You did, and it was limp, and shaking. He frowned but placed your hand firmly on his chest. For a wild moment you wondered if you were going to reenact your second meeting.

“Breathe with me,” he said. “I’ll count.”

For the next few minutes, you did. He breathed in, and you breathed in. He breathed out, and you breathed out. You were looking into each other’s eyes the whole time, and without you really noticing, your breath evened out. 

“There you go,” he said and smiled. 

You nodded, noticing you’d stopped shaking. “Thank you. I’m not… small spaces. And heights. It’s the worst of both.”

He nodded. “I’m Joel, by the way. Realized I never introduced myself.”

You did the same and noticed he was still holding your hand against his chest. He seemed to realize it at the same time and squeezed your hand gently before releasing it. 

“Do you know how much longer?” You weren’t sure how long you’d been following his breathing.

Joel checked his watch. “Probably about 30, 35 minutes. Tommy said they were already working on it when I called.”

“You said he’s your brother?” You wrapped your arms around the knee closest to him, hugging it to you. 

He nodded and scooted a bit closer. He reached for one of your hands as he spoke. “And business partner. Miller Contracting.” He winked at you as he held your hand gently in both of his, palm up. He dug his thumbs into your palm, softly at first and then harder. A hand massage? It was instantly soothing, somehow, and you took an easier breath. “I do this for my daughter. She has panic attacks sometimes.” He started to work your wrist into gentle stretches as you glanced up at him. 

“Daughter?” you asked, wondering if there was a wife, too.

Joel nodded and smiled. “Sarah. S’just me and her, so we’ve figured out a few tricks.”

You smiled back. “Sounds like you’re a good dad.”

He ducked his head. “Try to be.” He reached for your other hand and you gave it easily, turning towards him. He was sitting cross-legged and somehow you ended up with your left knee nudging his legs, almost in his lap. Your breath caught but neither of you moved to put more space between you.

He started to massage your other hand and for a moment you just watched as his large, strong hands so carefully caressed yours.

Then the elevator trembled.

It shook, just slightly, and made a noise that you hoped wasn’t the brakes straining. Before you even knew what was happening you’d thrown yourself forward in terror, diving into Joel’s shoulder. Your breaths were coming hard and fast again and you struggled to find any air. Without missing a beat his arms came up to catch you and he pulled you forward into his lap.

You found yourself with your knees on either side of his hips and his arms firm around you, holding you in place. He slid one large hand up your back and pushed you gently forward until your chest rested against his.

You could immediately feel the difference in your breathing – his was slow and steady while yours was too quick, too shallow, almost hyperventilating.

Joel tucked your face into his neck and murmured in your ear, “it’s alright, darlin’. Breathe with me.” He started to breathe in and you felt his chest move. You tried to match your breath to his, but for a few moments you could only struggle against your own body. He started to hum, something low and soothing, and it pulled your attention from your anxiety and the elevator to Joel. You focused on the sound of his voice and the feeling of his arms around you, of his body under yours. 

Soon you sank deeper into him as your breaths started to even out. It wasn’t quite another full-fledged panic attack but it was close. 

“There you go,” he murmured, tightening his arm around you and cupping the back of your neck.

It hit you, then, that you were straddling this man who you’d just met. You squeaked and started to pull away. His arm held you in place. “Oh, shit, Joel, I’m so sorry–”

“Hey,” he said, interrupting you. You lifted your head and met his eyes. You saw nothing but softness and warmth. “No need for any o’that.” He smirked. “Besides. Might be that I like havin’ you here.”

Your eyes widened. You realized your hands were tucked in front of you on his chest and you slowly slid them up and around the back of his neck. You smiled. “Yeah?”

“Might have caught you lookin’ at me a couple times.” His thumb started to caress the side of your neck, moving up and down gently, and you shivered. “Might have been looking back.”

You bit your lip and felt your heart start racing when his eyes dropped to look at your mouth. “You sure you weren’t just looking at me because I kept making a fool of myself?”

Joel laughed, and you grinned. “Darlin’, I just wish I could have ended up with my hands on you to help you out of that chair, like when I caught you downstairs.” He winked and you realized his hand, which had been wrapped around your back, had slid down to grip your hip. He squeezed. 

You winced, but reached down to catch his hand when he started to move it away. You put it back on your hip. “Not that. Just, ugh, that was so embarrassing.” You squirmed slightly in his lap and he sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing your hip again. “I still don’t know how I did that.”

He smiled at you and slipped his thumb under the hem of your shirt. “I don’t know how you pretzeled yourself into that chair to begin with, darlin’.” You laughed. “It was charming.”

You raised an eyebrow at him skeptically. “I charmed you by sticking my leg through the arm of my desk chair?”

He laughed again and you watched the way it changed his face. “You did. I was charmed. Wanted to walk over and help you out of it. I’d already made up an excuse to come and talk to you, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” You scooted just a bit closer on his lap and he encouraged you, tugging your hip forward. 

“Mmhmm,” he murmured, and tugged lightly with the hand that was still cupping the back of your neck. You leaned forward. “Tommy’s been teasin’ me, saying my mind is already over in office 1502, might as well walk over there and join it.”

You were suddenly so close your nose brushed his. “Joel,” you breathed, and he grinned. 

“Can I help you darlin’?” His voice was low and slow and your breath hitched. “Let me distract you, hmm? Take your mind off it.” You met his eyes. You realized your mouth had fallen open slightly. His gaze was dark and intent. “Can I kiss you? Got no idea how much I’ve been wantin’ to.”

His eyes dropped to your mouth and all you could manage was, “please.”

Before the word was fully past your lips, he was there to swallow it down.

His lips pressed against yours gently, at first, and then with fervor. You shivered at the softness of his lips and sank happily into the feeling of his mouth against yours.

He used his grip on your neck to tilt your head to the side. He opened his mouth and you moaned, just slightly. 

Joel groaned and tugged you forward, as close as you could get.

As his tongue caressed yours, you thrust your hips down, and you moaned again when you felt your effect on him against the seam of your pants. He was hard, so hard – so hard it made your head spin.

“Joel,” you whined when he broke away to press his mouth to your jaw. 

He smiled against your cheek. “Darlin,” he said, voice deep and rough. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but.” He took a breath. “Can I make you come? Please?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, mind spinning. You didn’t want to think about the fact that you were in an elevator at work, but you couldn’t help it. Distantly, you wondered how much time you had left. 

Joel interrupted your worry by nipping at your neck. You sighed and drove your hips down into his. He held you there with his grip on your hip.

“Please?” he repeated, pressing a line of kisses down your neck. “Been thinkin’ about it. Wonderin’ how gorgeous you are when you come, when you’re already so gorgeous all the time, anyway.”

You were moving, hips rocking back and forth, before you could stop yourself. You nodded, but he used his grip on your neck to tilt your face towards his. You blinked your eyes open, wondering when you’d closed them.

“Let me hear you say it, gorgeous.” The hand on your hip started creeping under your shirt.

Your eyes locked onto his and you threw caution to the wind. There was nothing but you and him. “Yes, Joel,” you said, voice breathy. “Make me come.”

He growled and pulled you back into a fierce kiss. His hand moved from under your shirt to the waistband of your pants, which he unbuttoned smoothly. 

Your hips stuttered forward into his, and he smirked against your mouth. “Do you want it bad, darlin’?”

“Joel,” you murmured, a complaint, and he kissed you again. 

“No shame in it, darlin’,” he said, brushing his fingers lightly over your underwear, where you knew he could feel how wet you were. “Got no idea how bad I want to touch you.” He pressed down with his fingertips and ran them up the length of your underwear slowly. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

You kissed him again. “About me?”

He smiled and started to push your underwear to the side. You gasped. “You got any idea how nice your ass looks in these pants?” You laughed, surprised. “And don’t get me started on when you’re sitting at your desk, leaning forward, biting your lip and frowning at your computer.” He stroked your neck again with his thumb, his hand still gripping you there firmly. “Never been so turned on in an office, darlin’. Never been so turned on at work.”

Joel slipped his fingers inside your underwear, finally, and brushed his fingers over your pussy. “Bet you’re gorgeous down here, too.”

You sighed and bucked your hips towards his fingers. “Joel,” you said, and this time his name sounded like a plea. He smiled against your mouth. 

“What is it, darlin’?” His smug tone made you want to bite him. So you did, pulling his bottom lip into your mouth. He groaned and slipped his fingers between your folds, sliding easily in the evidence of your arousal. “Fuck, you’re so wet, aren’t you?”

You twisted your hips and nodded. “You know, I was only concentrating so hard because some hot contractor kept taking up all of my attention.” You grinned at him when he looked at you. “It’s pretty hard to focus when you’re here, walking around looking like that.”

Joel chuckled as his fingers came to rest against your clit. You felt the shiver travel up your back like lightning up your spine. “Looking like that? What’s that mean?”

His fingers started to circle your clit and you squirmed in his lap. His grip tightened on the back of your neck. “Like… that. With those shoulders, and arms, and those hands, Joel. Not to mention your very handsome face.” You pressed a few quick kisses to his cheeks and jaw. “I saw you frowning at Tommy, and that was hot enough,” you said, voice catching as you ground down against his hand. “And then you smiled at me, when you caught me.” 

“Darlin’, I have a confession.” Joel moved his thumb to your clit and crept lower with two of his fingers, collecting your arousal as he went. “Tommy told me about the door,” he said, “but only ‘cause I’d done the same thing, the day before.”

You blinked, and looked up from where you’d been staring down at his hand in your pants. “You what?”

Joel nudged your nose with his, smiling. “I almost walked into the wall over by the bathrooms, first time I saw you. You stepped off the elevator in that black dress and I swear my soul left my body.” His fingers circle your entrance as his thumb worked over your clit and you gasped. “Been trying to figure out how to ask you out ever since.”

One of his fingers slipped inside you and you threw your head back. Joel began to mouth at your neck and you realized you were breathing faster, in and out. “You should have,” you breathed. 

His finger was thick, and the realization made you shiver when you wondered what his cock would be like. Judging by what you’d felt in his lap, it was big.

He started to work it in and out, slowly opening you up. Before you could whine for more he slipped a second finger inside to join it. The feeling of his fingers stretching you, thrusting in and out, and then this thumb on your clit, his grip on your neck – it was making your head spin. 

“Darlin’,” he murmured, and pulled your face back close to his. He kissed you one, twice, in time with the thrusts of his thick fingers. “Can I take you out? On a date?”

You nodded. “Yes, please,” you breathed.

Joel grinned. “Good. Tonight?” He thrust his fingers inside you again and curled them forwards. 

You whined. “Yes.”

Joel drew you back into a deep, fierce kiss and you buried your hands in his hair. He was working his fingers perfectly and you felt your orgasm building at the base of your spine. 

“And maybe I can take you home after,” he murmured against your mouth, “and put my mouth on you, make you come again.” You thrust your hips forward and nodded, overwhelmed. “Would you like that, gorgeous? Let me lick you, get you all wet?”

“Yes, Joel.” Your mind was spinning, full of the images he was giving you. 

“And then I’ll give you my cock. Is that what you want?”

You let out a sound you’d never heard yourself make before. 

“Don’t worry, honey, it’s what I want, too. Been wantin’ it.” He smiled against your lips. “I can feel you gettin’ close, darlin’.” He twisted his fingers again and you moaned. “Come on, now. Come for me. Let me see it.”

He circled your clit just right with his thumb and you felt yourself teeter on the edge of it, like an ocean below you waiting for you to fall. 

“C’mon, gorgeous,” he said, kissing you swiftly. He quirked his fingers and circled his thumb and you fell off the edge. “Come.” 

You did, and it washed over you like a wave, drowning everything else out as you gave in to the feeling of his fingers and his mouth on your neck. You were pretty sure you said his name, but your entire world had narrowed to the places where he was touching you.

“...fuck,” he was saying, when you came back to yourself, breathing hard. “Fuckin’ hell, that was gorgeous. I knew it. So fucking pretty when you come.”

You couldn’t help yourself and thrust down against his cock, which was straining against his jeans. 

“Joel,” you moaned, and finally met his eyes again. They were dark and his face was intent, watching you. The look you found there made you wonder if you were about to have the best sex of your life in a broken elevator.

And then his phone rang.

“Shit,” he muttered, releasing your neck to dig in his pocket for his phone. You realized as he did that his fingers were still inside you and that he hadn’t moved them. “What,” he said into the phone, voice flat.

His eyebrows lifted as he listened, and he glanced at you. “Fifteen minutes?” he asked, and twisted his fingers inside of you. He smirked when you squirmed. “Alright, we’ll be ready.” He ended the call and dropped his phone on the carpeted floor of the elevator next to your knee. “Think I can make you come again in that time, darlin’?

You smiled. “Only if you let me touch you, too, Joel.”

He tilted his head, studying you with a smirk that made you squeeze his fingers. “Well–” he started to say, but suddenly the elevator shook and started to move again. 

Startled, Joel slipped his fingers out of you and you both scrambled to stand. You almost fell over again when you noticed he stuck them in his mouth, closing his eyes briefly as he cleaned them off. He blinked and looked at you. “Remember what I said, darlin’.”

You nodded, too stunned to speak. You both took a moment to fix your clothes and by the time the elevator reached the 15th floor, you assumed you were more or less presentable, even if your breathing was still a bit fast and you could feel the evidence of what you’d done in your underwear. 

Joel’s cock was still hard in his jeans, too. You tried not to stare at it. 

Just before the elevator opened, he leaned into you and placed his hand on your lower back. “Pick you up at 7?” he asked, voice low. 

You looked at him and smiled. “It’s a date.”

...

a/n: a date!

[theunseenlibrary]

Writing Resources List

I use my blog to share writing resources that I’ve collected over the years. I’ve recently gotten some new followers, so I thought I would make a list of many of these resources for easy reference.  

(However, this is not a complete list of all the resources I’ve posted. For more writing resources, feel free to check out my blog.)

Encouragement for Writers

Writer’s Block & Procrastination

Writing Your Story’s Plot

How to Write a Scene

Choosing a Setting for Your Story

Character Arc & Character Development

Character Traits

How to Write Heroes & Villains

Elemental Magic & Superpowers

Writing Magic Systems

Fantasy Writing & World-Building

Writing Fight Scenes

Swords and Bows

Writing Mermaids

Writing Relationships & Romance

Romance & Relationship Prompts

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I’m a writer, poet, and editor. I share writing resources that I’ve collected over the years and found helpful for my own writing. If you like my blog, follow me for more resources! ♡

[theunseenlibrary]

Writing with Colors

A list of resources to help you describe different colors in your writing.

The Color Thesaurus A collection of infographics that show various shades of different colors, each shade/color labeled by name.

Color Reference Chart Another collection of infographics that show various shades of different colors, each shade/color labeled by name.

Hair Color Reference Chart A collection of infographics that show various shades of different hair colors, each shade/color labeled by name.

Eye Color Reference Chart A collection of infographics that show various shades of blue, brown, and green eye colors, each shade/color labeled by name.

Different Ways to Describe Hazel Eyes A list of ideas and suggestions for describing hazel eyes. Can be used as prompts or for brainstorming.

Different Ways to Describe Green Eyes A list of ideas and suggestions for describing green eyes. Can be used as prompts or for brainstorming.

Different Ways to Describe Blue Eyes A list of ideas and suggestions for describing blue eyes. Can be used as prompts or for brainstorming.

Different Ways to Describe Brown Eyes A list of ideas and suggestions for describing brown eyes. Can be used as prompts or for brainstorming.

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I’m a writer, poet, and editor. I share writing resources that I’ve collected over the years and found helpful for my own writing. If you like my blog, follow me for more resources! ♡

[theunseenlibrary]

Other Words for "Look" + With meanings | List for writers

Many people create lists of synonyms for the word 'said,' but what about the word 'look'? Here are some synonyms that I enjoy using in my writing, along with their meanings for your reference. While all these words relate to 'look,' they each carry distinct meanings and nuances, so I thought it would be helpful to provide meanings for each one.

Gaze - To look steadily and intently, especially in admiration or thought.

Glance - A brief or hurried look.

Peek - A quick and typically secretive look.

Peer - To look with difficulty or concentration.

Scan - To look over quickly but thoroughly.

Observe - To watch carefully and attentively.

Inspect - To look at closely in order to assess condition or quality.

Stare - To look fixedly or vacantly at someone or something.

Glimpse - To see or perceive briefly or partially.

Eye - To look or stare at intently.

Peruse - To read or examine something with great care.

Scrutinize - To examine or inspect closely and thoroughly.

Behold - To see or observe a thing or person, especially a remarkable one.

Witness - To see something happen, typically a significant event.

Spot - To see, notice, or recognize someone or something.

Contemplate - To look thoughtfully for a long time at.

Sight - To suddenly or unexpectedly see something or someone.

Ogle - To stare at in a lecherous manner.

Leer - To look or gaze in an unpleasant, malicious way.

Gawk - To stare openly and stupidly.

Gape - To stare with one's mouth open wide, in amazement.

Squint - To look with eyes partially closed.

Regard - To consider or think of in a specified way.

Admire - To regard with pleasure, wonder, and approval.

Skim - To look through quickly to gain superficial knowledge.

Reconnoiter - To make a military observation of a region.

Flick - To look or move the eyes quickly.

Rake - To look through something rapidly and unsystematically.

Glare - To look angrily or fiercely.

Peep - To look quickly and secretly through an opening.

Focus - To concentrate one's visual effort on.

Discover - To find or realize something not clear before.

Spot-check - To examine something briefly or at random.

Devour - To look over with eager enthusiasm.

Examine - To inspect in detail to determine condition.

Feast one's eyes - To look at something with great enjoyment.

Catch sight of - To suddenly or unexpectedly see.

Clap eyes on - To suddenly see someone or something.

Set eyes on - To look at, especially for the first time.

Take a dekko - Colloquial for taking a look.

Leer at - To look or gaze in a suggestive manner.

Rubberneck - To stare at something in a foolish way.

Make out - To manage to see or read with difficulty.

Lay eyes on - To see or look at.

Pore over - To look at or read something intently.

Ogle at - To look at in a lecherous or predatory way.

Pry - To look or inquire into something in a determined manner.

Dart - To look quickly or furtively.

Drink in - To look at with great enjoyment or fascination.

Bask in - To look at or enjoy something for a period of time.

[theunseenlibrary]

site that you can type in the definition of a word and get the word

site for when you can only remember part of a word/its definition 

site that gives you words that rhyme with a word

site that gives you synonyms and antonyms

[theunseenlibrary]

Happiness Will Come To You.

[theunseenlibrary]

World’s Worst Chauffeur

18+ MDNI!

Summary: Joel Miller, your dad's best friend, ends up getting roped into picking you up from a party. Without the key to unlock your house or anybody to let you inside, Joel offers to let you sleep at his place for the night. Needless to say, the both of you don't do a lot of sleeping.

TL;DR: You convince old man Joel to dick you down.

W.C: ~6.2k

Warnings: dbf!Joel, unprotected p-in-v sex, praise AND degradation (whoops), big fat age gap (Joel is around 50, reader is 21), daddy kink for a sec soz, aftercare, slight size kink, cunnilingus through panties, cunnilingus, dry-humping, couch sex (no outbreak!)

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62586064

Note: hey y'all, trying my hand at joel miller smut because i saw an edit of pedro pascal and literally licked the fucking screen protector, so i guess that's god's sign of telling me to write filthy shit. anyway, hope you enjoy! wrote this instead of a politics essay #yolo

“C’mon, Joel.” Your dad sighed, meeting his best friend’s eyes with a pleading gaze.

“Look, I—”

“Just this once. Please. I really can’t get out of this meeting, the board would kill me. Especially with the damn FTC breathing down our necks.”

You were visiting your hometown for Spring Break. Tomorrow night, there was going to be a party in a town fifteen minutes away from your own—one that you had been invited to. Your dad was supposed to give you a ride home, but as always, there was some last-minute work emergency. So, Joel was his solution.

The aforementioned solution frowned, crossing his large arms over his plaid torso.

“I got better things to do than chauffeur your little girl.” Joel shrugged.

That was, in fact, horribly untrue. His agenda for that night consisted of re-watching one of the Die Hard’s and drinking a nice, cold Coors.

“I’ll owe you one.” Your dad insisted.

“Desperate ain’t a good look on you, buddy.” Joel cracked a small smile.

Your dad ignored this jab.

“Joel, we’ve been friends for almost two decades. You’ve let me borrow your car, helped me paint my house more times than I can count, and even bailed me out of jail when I sped down the interstate.” He counted the feats off his fingers. “But picking my kid up is where you draw the line? Come on.”

Joel inhaled through his teeth.

The real reason he maintained his firm stance on not giving you a lift home was, really, a bundle of three smaller reasons.

One, ever since you turned eighteen you’ve made it painstakingly and increasingly clear you wanted to get in his pants.

Two, you were a huge flirt.

Three, he wasn’t so sure he could keep on resisting. But he had to. For god’s sake, what kind of a friend would bone his friend’s daughter?

Hopefully, not him.

“I–” Joel began but was shortly interrupted.

"I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. You’re picking up my kid. She has no one else, and I don’t trust her friends to be sober enough to get her home without getting in some kind of drunk-driving accident."

He levelled Joel with a firm look.

"So, are you picking her up, or should I expect to see her name in tomorrow’s obituary because one of her little buddies got behind the wheel after doin’ a keg stand, or a gazillion games of beer pong or I don’t know—fuckin’ ‘Cheers to the Governor’?”

Your dad stared him down with an expectant look.

Joel took a second to process this.

He rubbed a hand over his face, squeezed his eyes shut, and then met his friend’s stare with a sigh.

“Fine.” Came through gritted teeth.

Your dad patted him firmly on the shoulder. “Thank you.” He chirped happily.

———

And so, there Joel was.

Leaning against his old Chevrolet, idly spinning his keys around his finger, and staring at the front door of the party.

Several kids filtered out; stumbling into worn Honda Civics with disgruntled parents waiting in the driver’s seats, or with their arms interlocked and their sides almost melded together, giggling off to god-knows-where.

When you came out, you were part of the latter group.

Some blonde-haired boy—tall, but not too tall—was holding you close to him with a stupid smile on his reddened face. You mirrored it with a stupider smile of your own.

He whispered something into your ear that made you laugh and was promptly leading you in the opposite direction of Joel. But Joel was both keen and quick to intervene.

“Goin’ somewhere?” Joel called out, crossing his arms.

You froze and turned your head to lock eyes with none other than Joel Miller. Your neighbour, your dad’s best friend, and more importantly, your long-time crush.

“What are you doing here?” You arched a brow, slipping away from your friend and nearing him and his truck.

Your friend followed after you and settled by your side, resting an arm that hung a little too comfortably around your shoulder.

“Evenin’ to you, too, sweetheart. And to answer your question, I’m pickin’ you up.” Joel stated simply, then tossed a quick surveying look to the guy next to you. “Who’s blondie over here?”

“Daniel.” Blondie blinked and stuck out his free hand, glancing at you. Under his breath, he muttered, “you told me your dad couldn’t give you a ride.”

“He’s not my–” You started, but were immediately cut off by Joel.

“Get your hand off the girl, will you, Derek?” Joel narrowed his eyes at him, a dangerous look underlying his seemingly casual tone.

Daniel immediately did so, going so far as to step a pace back from you.

“It’s Daniel.” He coughed awkwardly. Then added, “sir.”

Joel ignored him—or, at least, didn’t show any sign that he had heard his correction—and turned around.

“Time to go home, young lady.” Joel said lowly. He opened the front passenger door, and upon finding you in the same spot as you were standing before he had turned his back, continued with, “that wasn’t a suggestion.”

You mumbled a quick ‘goodbye’ to Daniel and hopped inside the truck.

“Good girl.” Joel sighed, closed the door with a bit too much force and walked around the front of the car. He spared a few seconds to glare at your friend before sliding into the driver’s seat.

Suddenly, the engine thrummed to life and the two of you were headed down quiet suburban streets in the late hours of the night, leaving what's-his-name in the dust.

The air had been thick with a tension neither of you could describe and was further blanketed by a heavy silence broken only by the hum of the engine, the faint skid of tyres against asphalt, and your own rapid heartbeat pounding insistently in your ears.

Not five minutes had passed before Joel spoke up.

“Who was he?” Joel asked casually, his eyes still focused on the dimly-lit road ahead.

You sank further into the cracked leather of the front passenger seat.

“A friend.” You shrugged, not looking over at him.

Joel hummed a non-committal noise as he carefully took a turn into a side street, the truck slowly crunching over loose gravel. His grip on the wheel remained firm, but his eyes flickered over to you.

“Your daddy let you out of the house like that?”

You huffed out a short laugh and looked down at your choice of partywear; a low-cut top and some tight-fitting jeans. Not necessarily the most vulgar apparel, in your humble opinion.

“No, actually, he called the cops on me for indecent exposure, but I managed to escape.” You spat out sarcastically.

Joel didn’t find your comment funny. Or rather, there was no indication on his unwavering poker face that he had found it funny. Or was experiencing any emotion at all other than slightly tired.

The two of you sank into yet another silence.

“I’m not a kid, Joel.” You said after a minute or two.

“Like hell, you ain’t.” Joel scoffed.

“I’m in college, I can dress how I like.”

“Is ‘how you like’ a prostitute?”

You turned to face him fully, your arms crossed and your brows furrowed.

“That’s both slightly misogynistic and completely off-base, don’t you think?” You snorted, then smiled smugly to yourself. “Plus. Admit it, you like it.”

That threw him off-guard.

For the first time that evening, Joel showed a sliver of emotion. His eyes widened slightly as he opened his mouth, quickly closing it, and then opening it again to say, “what the fuck are you going on about, kid?”

“You were definitely staring at my tits.”

Joel was even more taken aback. First, by your absolute gall, and second, by your accuracy. He may have snuck a peek at your cleavage, but in his head, it was very discreet. But, fuck, did they sit perfectly.

“You’re drunk.” Joel shook his head.

“You didn’t deny it.” Your smile grew. “But yes, I am a little tipsy. Not drunk, though.”

“I noticed.”

“Just say the word, Miller, and I’ll flash you the twins anytime you like.” You leaned over the control arm, your eyes travelling along his tensing frame.

“Fucking Christ.” Joel breathed. He kept his eyes fixed on the road but released a hand from the steering wheel to rub the lower half of his face.

This. This was why he didn’t want to do this favour for your father. You were already a handful while sober. And you had been a handful ever since you started college—making throwaway yet entirely flirtatious comments, pressing your tits against his chest a bit too much while you lingered after a hug, and wearing the tightest clothes known to man.

And now drunk? You were literally throwing yourself at him.

The worst part was that he couldn’t control his body’s reaction to you. In fact, his jeans felt a little tighter the closer you got.

Fuck, he was more than twice your age and here he was getting a hard-on—

Joel was suddenly violently snatched from his internal monologue when he felt your hand ghost over his lap.

“That’s ‘cause of me, isn’t it…? I can help with that.” You whispered, your tone almost pleading as your fingers gently traced over the front zipper of his jeans.

“Honey, sit back down.” Joel said slowly. His eyes remained intently glued onto the road.

Jesus Christ, he was fucked.

“Joel,” You practically whined.

Jesus Christ, he was so fucked.

“You’re drunk,” Joel said, more to himself than you as some sort of ill-justified dismissal.

“Tipsy.” You corrected helpfully, yet not retreating back to your seat. “But not really.”

Before he knew it, Joel was pulling up in front of your driveway, his grip on the steering wheel deathly tight.

Joel sighed. “You’re home.”

You glanced out the window disappointedly.

“No shit, Sherlock.” You replied.

Joel muttered something to himself under his breath and got out of the car, quickly appearing by your side and opening the door for you.

“C’mon, sweetheart.” He nodded toward your house.

You got to your feet indignantly and marched up to your porch. Joel followed after you, leaning against one of the support beams of your front awning as he watched you dig through your purse.

After a few moments of your struggle, Joel cleared his throat.

“What?”

“Can’t find my key.” You frowned.

“I’ll call your dad.”

“Not home. And won’t be, ‘till tomorrow morning. He’s in the city for some work emergency, remember?”

Joel ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, visibly mulling something over, judging by the crease in his forehead.

“And you don’t got a spare key lying around somewhere? Under a flower pot or a welcome mat or shit like that?”

You shook your head.

If Joel were a better man, he’d have caught the glimmer of an ulterior motive dancing in your mischievous eyes. He would’ve brought up the spare key given to him for emergencies—this would’ve constituted as such. And he certainly wouldn’t have said what he had next.

“You can stay the night at mine.”

You blinked up at him, your hand frozen in the opening of your purse.

Joel straightened up, taking his weight off the support beam.

“Or you can sleep outside. Up to you.”

“I’ll take option number one.”

A few minutes and a trip across the road later, Joel had wriggled his key through the entrance lock and opened the door, inviting you inside.

Joel’s two-story craftsman was cosy and lived-in. The leather couch facing a moderately-sized flat-inch was slightly worn, the coffee table was cluttered with magazines and empty cans, and standing by its lonesome in a forgotten far corner of the living room was an acoustic guitar. More importantly, his house smelled like him; like warmth and vetiver and wood.

You had been a guest at his house on several occasions, but such instances had always been with the company of your dad.

That evening you found yourself free of his presence and, coincidentally, free of a conscience.

However fortunate your moral freedom was, it was only partially incited by your father’s absence. The four lukewarm cans of Lone Star you had chugged at the party may have had more of an influence on your risqué behaviour, because you sure as hell weren’t pushing Joel down on his leather sofa and straddling his lap with complete sobriety.

Joel let you take control, placing his big hands on your waist like they were always meant to be there while you moulded yourself against him, and met your lips with equal fervour when you smashed your mouth against his.

He sighed into the kiss and gripped your waist tighter as you slipped your tongue past his lips, ignoring the slight scruff of his greying stubble rubbing against your jaw.

But it was when you began slowly rocking your hips against the tenting figure in his jeans did he suddenly remember himself and wrench his face away from yours.

“Shit.” He panted, his pupils dilated and his chest heaving as he zeroed in on your kiss-swollen lips and your half-lidded, desperate eyes.

Why the fuck did he just do that? ‘That’ being the act of letting you kiss him, but he was just as equally angered with himself for stopping.

“We shouldn’t.” He shook his head, but his eyes were focused on your pretty, slightly parted lips.

“Why not?” You sighed, leaning closer.

Joel took your chin in his hand and held you at a safe distance.

“You know fucking well why.” Joel’s voice rumbled deep with frustration.

“Give me a reason.”

“I’ll give you three: you’re drunk, you’re barely eighteen, and your father is my best friend.”

You huffed out a noise of annoyance.

“I’m a little tipsy at worst, I’m twenty-one, thank you, and my father doesn’t have to know.”

Joel’s lip twitched. You were very persistent. He didn’t even know why he was arguing with you, he just knew he had to resist whatever fucking temptation this was.

“I’m old enough to be your father, too.” Joel frowned.

“But you’re not.”

“You should want someone your own age.”

“But I don’t.”

Joel inhaled through his teeth, subconsciously nearing your face once more. “This is so wrong.”

“Just once, Joel.” You pleaded, your eyes flooded with need.

“Fuck,” Joel shook his head, his brows furrowed as he once again lost himself in how pretty your lips looked; all puffy and raw. All because of him. “Honey–”

“Just this once.” You whined prettily.

At the sound, Joel unconsciously rocked up into you. Your hands immediately went to grab his shoulders to steady yourself; feeling a little lightheaded from the mere singular action.

Joel’s grip on your waist tightened.

“Fuck.” He said again, breathing slowly.

Being as old as he was, Joel never expected to relive the days of his brazen youth when his only major problem in life was cumming in his pants after a pretty girl had barely touched him.

His dark eyes finally met yours.

You held your breath.

“Just this once?” He said.

“Just this once.” You confirmed.

“You won’t … you won’t try anything again?” Joel’s eyes dropped back down to your mouth and his thumb gently traced your bottom lip. His other hand slipped from your waist to the bare small of your back from underneath your blouse.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, but you shakily nodded your head.

Joel didn’t believe you.

But, fuck it, he captured your mouth in another hungry kiss anyway, closing his eyes and holdiing you against him.

He was definitely going to hell, but he would gladly do so just knowing he had felt heaven against his lips.

And, fuck, was that an unforgettable taste.

Joel gently trailed his chapped lips down your jaw, your neck, and lingered on your pulse point, all while one hand held you by your nape and the other against the skin of your lower back, idly caressing the base of your spine with his thumb.

Instead of the white-hot passion that had initially been the catalyst for this heated night, this moment was charged with an underlying tenderness. And all you could do was throw your head back and accept his tentative indulgence.

Though by the way Joel unintentionally bucked his growing bulge against your clothed mound as he peppered the crook of your neck with open-mouthed kisses, you could tell his delicacy was largely imbued by whatever ounce of restraint he inexplicably retained and was, by no means, a testament to his true nature.

He was holding back.

“Joel?” You whispered, carding your hand through his hair.

“Mmm?” He hummed into your skin, his eyes closed in bliss.

“I want…” You began, the words dying in your throat.

What did you want?

Well, his cock, definitely. More specifically, inside of you, but you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

“Words, baby.” He pressed a final kiss onto your neck and pulled away the slightest distance to meet your gaze. His eyes were wrecked with lust; half-lidded and almost entirely swallowed by his dilated pupils. He softly took your face in the hand that was formerly resting against your nape. And when he spoke, his voice was low and rich with that sweeter-than-molasses Southern drawl. “Try that again. What do you want, honey?”

“You.”

“And you have me, don't you?” Joel said distractedly, his thumb lightly tracing your lower lip. His soft, umber eyes momentarily dipped down to your mouth as if he was debating on kissing you again.

And he was. Fuck, those lips of yours.

“No, I…” You breathed, your hand coming down in between your two bodies and palming his rock-hard erection through his denim. Joel hissed. “Can I suck you off?”

Joel’s eyes widened. You certainly held no room for subtlety.

“Fuck, honey.” He huffed. “Really know how to get to the point, don’t you?”

“Can I?”

Joel hummed.

“Can I be perfectly candid, sweetheart?”

“You have my blessing.” You arched a brow.

“If you so much as breathed on my dick right now, I think this night would come to a quick and rather … anticlimactic finish.” Joel sighed, breaking into a small smile. In true dad fashion, he then added, “pun not intended.”

You granted him the reward of a snicker for his antics. Then, you leaned close to his ear, letting your breath tickle his skin.

“If I had known that all I’d get from you was a dry-humping makeout sesh, I’d have stuck with Daniel.” You sighed, as casually as you could.

Without even looking at him, you saw the jealousy morph onto his aged face.

“Get on your fucking back.” He said, his voice measured, yet somehow equally unhinged.

You stilled, not expecting that much of a reaction from him.

“I said,” Joel met your gaze, his eyes holding a dangerous promise. “Get on your fucking back, young lady.”

And that was how you found yourself lying against the arm of a sofa older than the Great Depression with your jeans discarded in a wrinkled pile somewhere and your legs spread around the owner of said ancient sofa.

Joel crouched down in front of you, with one of your legs perched on his shoulder. He pushed your shirt up past your belly button and kissed a path down to the waistband of your panties.

His hand slid up your knee, then your thigh, and then stopped right against a particularly damp spot in your underwear.

“This for me or Daniel?” Joel hummed against your lower stomach, his stare flickering up to your face.

You bit your lower lip.

“You.” You said softly.

And then Joel lowered his head and kissed the patch of arousal. And then he kissed it again and again, basically frenching your cunt through your underwear. You could feel the pressure of his tongue against your swollen clit, sliding, only by a small margin as restricted by your godforsaken panties, in between your folds—

“Say that again for me, honey? Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Fuck–” You gasped at the feeling. “You, Joel!”

“That’s what I thought.”

To your displeasure, Joel stopped whatever the fuck he was doing and his eyes found yours once more.

“Need me to eat your pussy now, sweetie?”

Yes, fucking please.

You might’ve said that out loud, judging from the pleased chuckle Joel let out.

Before you knew it, Joel slid your panties off your legs (pocketing them secretly—only to wash them on your behalf, of course, nothing dirty at all on his part) and then consequently salivated at the sight of your bare cunt.

Fucking gorgeous.

“Oh, honey.” Joel sighed, barely hiding his eagerness.

“It hurts…!” You breathed, your eyes flickering down to your pulsating core; dripping wet and throbbing in anticipation of him.

“Aw, it hurts, does it? I’ll kiss it better, hm? Is that what my pretty girl wants?” Joel cooed in a falsely-sweet tone.

He then held you still by the firm grip on your waist and leaned down right in front of your slick seam.

Joel tutted as he took in your desperate scent.

“So wet for me.” He mumbled, more to himself than you.

Without warning, much less another word, Joel dipped his head down to plant a kiss directly on your swollen clit, lapping at the swelling bud.

You gasped and a hand flung down to grasp his salt-and-pepper curls.

Joel smiled against your cunt and moved further down, his tongue lazily sliding through your folds and flicking inside your velvety walls.

In response, your grip on his hair tightened and you whispered something close to his name. Or God’s. Or anyone’s, really, you were teetering on the edge of unconsciousness from the sheer intensity of the situation, you could’ve been reciting the Pledge of Allegiance, for all you knew.

“Mmm... fuck, you taste good, baby.” He mumbled against your heat.

Suddenly, Joel pulled away with a wet ‘pop’ and his eyes met yours. Upon seeing your lust-blown face, he smiled through his scruff—a slight shine evident around his mouth from your slick.

“Good?” Joel mused, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on your hips.

You nodded deliriously and pulled him back up by the collar of his shirt—why the fuck was he still fully dressed—to taste yourself on him.

His lips moved hungrily against yours as he licked into your mouth. You were so consumed in the kiss, you barely noticed the sound of his belt unbuckling or his zipper sliding down.

It wasn’t until you felt the tip of his cock nudge against your seam that you noticed you were, very possibly, actually going to fuck your dad’s best friend.

Or rather, he’d fuck you. As long as you were fucked, you were fucking happy.

Your eyes flickered down to his length.

“Shit.” You gasped.

You always knew Joel to be a big guy; from his broad shoulders to his massive hands—no doubt incredibly useful in his line of work as a contractor. But seeing his fucking cock? You were still somehow surprised.

“Joel, I…” You blinked. “You’re so…”

Big. He was so big.

“Oh, c’mon baby, I know you can take it,” Joel said against your lips, his breath warm against your skin. “We’ll go slow at first. That sound good?”

You nodded.

In hindsight, he should’ve worked you with his fingers first. That would’ve been the first thing he’d done after tasting your delicious fucking pussy, but he got lost in how good you felt against his mouth, he was too excited to feel how you’d stretch around him.

“That’s my good girl.” Joel hummed, satisfied. “I’ve got condoms upstairs, if–”

“I have an IUD.”

The four little magic words which really meant, please Joel, fuck me raw.

Being ever the gentleman, Joel planned on doing exactly that.

“Then eyes down, sweetheart. Want you to watch how I fuck you.”

Obediently, your eyes dragged down to the sinful sight of Joel taking his cock and slapping it a few times on your pussy, before just barely sliding inside. His weeping tip easily disappeared inside you, along with an inch or two, aided by the arousal coating your entrance.

He wasn’t even halfway in, but the thickness of his cock was unlike any other you’ve felt before. And, possibly, too much for you to take.

“Too big.” You whined.

Above you, a wicked smile grew on Joel’s face.

“Too big? D’you just say it’s too big? Well, tough luck, sweetheart, ‘cause I ain’t stoppin’.”

Joel continued to push forward, thrusting shallowly in, retreating, and then feeding you a little more of his length at a relaxed pace.

“My good girl can take it, can’t she?” He murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. He mumbled indifferently in between tasting your sweet skin, “after all, you were the one begging me so sweetly to fuck you a little while ago. Would be a damn shame if you couldn’t follow through with your own request…”

“I can.” You affirmed, squeezing your eyes shut from the overbearing sensation of being filled by him.

“Attagirl.”

And then, to test your claim, Joel finally buried himself all the way to the hilt, his balls slapping obscenely against your ass from the movement.

“Daddy–!” You gasped, your nails digging into his back.

Joel’s lip quirked upward in a small, amused smile.

“‘Daddy’, huh? Should’ve figured.” He tutted, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. “You want daddy to stop?”

“N-No!”

“Then take it—” Joel thrust into you, his tip deliciously kissing your cervix. “—like a good girl.”

And then he began a steady pace. Not too slow, but fuck, did he hit deep.

You could’ve sworn you were seeing little cartoon stars dancing around your vision from the plane of pleasure you found yourself on; otherwise known as being dicked down by Joel Miller, apparently.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” Joel winced, his hips stuttering.

He really should’ve stretched you out with his fingers first, but there was no way in fucking hell he was going to pull out now. Not with how perfectly your cunt was wrapping and crying around him.

In fact, you felt so good, Joel was starting to feel a familiar sensation in his lower stomach that alerted him of how close he was to prematurely spilling inside you. Turns out, his unintentional celibacy (circa the fucking creation of MySpace) had a bigger impact on him than he would’ve liked.

“Yeah? Do I feel good, daddy?”

Fuck.

Joel’s dick twitched.

If this really was going to happen ‘just once’, Joel was damned set on, firstly, fucking your brains out without coming early, and secondly, making you reach your end before he reached his. Ladies and gentlemen, chivalry was alive and well in the twenty-first century.

Thinking intently about the starting lineup for the Cowboys game that Sunday, Joel began to pick up the pace, reaching places you’ve never been aware of until that precise moment.

Mesmerised by both the slight outline of his dick in your stomach and the sheer sensation of his heavy length, you took it upon yourself to encourage a quicker speed and moved your hips in time with him.

“Mmm,” Joel inhaled sharply, locking eyes with you. “Look at you, prettly little slut. Tryna fuck me back too, huh?”

Your walls clenched around him at his words. Mean as they were, his tone was still as sweet as honey.

“‘S okay. You take what you need, babygirl.” Joel dipped his head down to suck at your pulse point as he continued sawing into your drooling cunt.

“Need more. Please.” You all but whimpered.

“My baby needs more, hm?” Joel muttered against your neck, nipping at a freshly-made hickey. You yelped in response, but Joel only grinned as he muttered to himself, “she’ll get more. Filthy fucking whore.”

And then Joel sped up his thrusts, going in and out, in and out, at a brutal pace. Salacious, wet sounds filled his living room every time he shoved his fat cock inside you. That, combined with the unabashed moans spilling from your mouth, made the whole affair seem borderline pornographic.

Not that Joel was complaining, because you sounded pretty as a peach.

“Joel!”

“Fuck, that’s it, Joel!”

“Oh, Joel, you’re fucking me so well!”

Your moans came in tandem with every stab of his cock, blabbering desperate words of praise as your walls fluttered around him.

Joel sucked in a breath.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, scream for me. Let the neighbours hear who’s fucking you so well, hm?” Joel lazily kissed your jaw. “You close, pretty girl?”

Unable to sound anything other than nonsensical syllables or his name or ‘daddy’ upon nearing your climax, you simply shook your head in an eager nod.

So Joel kept on mentally listing the fifty states to keep from joining you, and maintained his rapid pace.

“Go on, sweet girl, come on my cock. Let go, honey, I’ll catch you. ‘M right here.” Joel murmured sweetly, caressing your flushed cheeks. A total juxtaposition to the ruthless pace his hips were setting.

In and out. In and out.

In. And. Out.

And then his hand trailed down your bare stomach, lightly spidering over the faint outline of his dick jutting in and out of you, and settling on your very sensitive swollen bundle of nerves. His hand then began generously swiping at your clit as whispered sweet words of praise into your ear.

You clutched his bicep with an iron grip as you felt your high approach.

“Joel, I’m…!”

“Yeah, come on daddy’s cock. You’re so close, baby, just let go.”

And so you did. With a scream that reached God in the high heavens above, your walls clenched around him and you were nearly knocked out from the overbearing sensation of your intense orgasm.

Joel fucked you through it, unrelenting in his devoted momentum, his tip finding your cervix with every other thrust. And he continued fucking you through it, even after the last waves of your high, letting out low groans of pleasure.

When he saw your eyes refocusing, he slowed down for a moment, as reciting the ABC’s backwards was hardly working to calm his hard length.

“Don’t stop…” You mumbled, a bit sadly.

“Baby, I got no plans of stopping anytime soon, don’t you worry.”

And to prove his point, Joel kissed your right ankle and hitched your other leg over his shoulder, practically splitting you in half as he reached deeper inside you.

If he was gonna come, so were you. If the last thing he’d get to do on this godforsaken planet was send the pretty girl bent in half underneath him into two soul-shattering orgasms, he’d die a satisfied man.

Did he also want to show off and possibly ruin you for all men? Maybe.

Fuck, yes, he did.

He wanted you to be fucking addicted to the way his cock stretched your velvety walls, because he sure as hell was.

Screw the ‘just this once’ bullshit. He was gonna fuck you every damn night from now on, if you’d let him.

“Feels so good, Joel…” You whined pathetically.

Joel hummed in a self-satisfied sort of way and began pushing up your shirt to reveal your bouncing tits and leaned down to take a pebbled nipple in his mouth, licking and sucking at the nub, and nipping at the surrounding sensitive skin.

“Oh!” You gasped, jerking your head back.

Joel took it as a sign to continue, showing the exact same attention to your other nipple and maintaining his deep and rapid thrusts, causing the springs of the couch to whine in protest with every jut of his hips.

You let out a strangled moan.

“Joel—! Joel, it’s so…!” You panted, tears collecting in your eyes from the overstimulation.

“Shh, it’s okay. Almost there. Almost there, baby.” Joel tutted, gently swiping away your tears with his thumb as he continued to fuck you like he was an interior designer from the way he strived to rearrange your guts. “You gonna be good and come around daddy’s cock a second time?”

Your walls tightened in response and you let out a breathy whimper.

“Good girl.” He smashed his mouth against yours and swallowed your moans, his lips moving in time with his hips. “Where do you want me to…?” He mumbled against your lips, his breath mingling with your own.

“Inside.”

“Fuck, babygirl, you sure?”

“Miller, I said, inside.” You made a point to fuck yourself onto him with deep movements of your hips, displaying your intent.

“Yes ma’am.” Joel smirked, absolutely fucking pussydrunk.

With that, Joel caught your lips in another searingly intense kiss, licking into your mouth as his thrusts continued to ram into your cervix while you held onto the couch for dear life.

And if that wasn’t enough sweet torture to your poor body, Joel moved one hand above you, gently laced his fingers with yours, and brought it back down to lay flat against your clit.

“Play with that pretty pussy, baby.” He whispered against your skin, his hand moving yours encouragingly. “Need you to give me another.”

With a shaky nod, you acquiesced, toying with your clit like you had a million nights before.

Except this time, instead of imagining it, you really had Joel fucking Miller in between your legs, sawing into your cunt like he wanted to break it.

“That’s my good girl,” Joel’s mouth twitched into a slightly proud smile against your skin.

It took Joel half a dozen more stabs into your slick mound before his hips began to stutter.

And then it took three more before he buried himself completely inside, and, with a gasp of your name accompanied by an appropriate expletive, painted your walls with hot ropes of his come.

“Fuck, daddy!” You moaned, your back arching off the sofa.

At the same time, for the second time that night, no less, you felt yourself reach another mind-blowing orgasm, your walls greedily sucking him in further and shaking around his thick length.

He continued to fuck his come into you with a few more slow, but deliciously deep rolls of his hips, before he stilled inside you and fell on top of your heaving chest, letting your legs fall back onto the beaten old couch, too.

It took a few moments for both of you to steady your breaths.

“Was that … okay?” Joel breathed, staring at you with furrowed brows, and gently tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I think I blacked out for a second there.” You smiled.

Joel laughed and kissed the corner of your mouth. Smug as ever, he muttered, “I take tips.”

“That’s funny, since I just took yours.”

You almost felt Joel roll his eyes.

Joel slowly sat up, gazing down upon the absolute fucking mess the two of you made; both your arousals leaking out of your mound and coating your thighs in a light sheen.

Tenderly, he began to pull out, wincing from both the feeling of leaving your warmth as well as the sight of your come and his collecting around his cock in a shiny ring.

“Sit tight, baby, I’ll get you something to clean you up.” Joel pressed a kiss to your collarbone, tucked himself haphazardly back in his jeans, and disappeared off into another room.

If he had stayed a second longer, you would’ve said something that testified to how hard he had fucked you, since you weren’t sure you could move anyway.

Joel returned a minute or two later with a damp towel and began to softly wipe away the remnants of your dalliance, delicately caressing your hip with his other hand.

“What a gentleman.” You purred, watching him with a stupid grin on your fucked-out face.

Joel threw the towel aside.

“You think so, sweetheart?” He hummed, leaning down to give you a quick, affectionate kiss.

“Never had this level of aftercare.” You admitted, laughing slightly.

Joel gently manoeuvered the two of you so you laid on your sides facing each other on his surprisingly roomy sofa.

“Still regret not goin’ with that Daniel boy?” He smirked, taking your chin in between his fingers and tilting your face toward his.

You swung your bare leg over his hip and pulled him closer. “Not at all.”

“‘S what I thought.” Joel hummed happily, bumping his nose against yours.

“And … y’know what I said about this being a one-time thing?”

“Mhm?”

“We’re definitely doing this more than once.”

“Thank fucking God.”

[theunseenlibrary]

MAKE YOU MINE - L.H.

Summary: The question isn't if you'll give in - it's when. And Logan knows that all too well.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Flirting, Friends to something more?

A/N: First time writing for DoFP!Logan and man is he a flirt. Got tons for requests for my A Weekend with Logan Howlett event, so I'm busy writing away! The prompt was TRAINING. Title creds to Madison Beer.

MASTERLIST

“I had a dream about you.” Strands of his dark hair, slick with sweat, dangle just above your temple. Logan holds you captive on the floor, his weight a deliberate pressure against your chest, constricting your breath to short, shallow gasps. Thick thighs bracket your hips almost possessively as victory - a sugary rush on his tongue - manifests in the smug curve of his lips. “Kinda looked somethin’ like this.”

With each session, the sparring eases into a dance. A tango of tension and release poised on barely restrained impulses. His honeyed words caress your skin, each syllable a carefully aimed arrow designed to pierce your defences. And it's the same every time.

“Will you ever stop?” you ask with a weary chuckle.

“Now where’s the fun in that, darlin’?” But the lighthearted tone falters, the teasing lilt - like a snapped string - abruptly silenced as you shift beneath him. Fire kindles low in his core, and the game now hums with a different energy, the stakes suddenly higher. “C’mon, one date,” he groans.

“No.”

“One night.”

“No.”

A subtle sheen settles across Logan's lips as he unconsciously licks them, the movement - a quick slide of his tongue - anchoring your attention to his mouth. He stops just shy of touching your face, lingering for a breathless moment. “One kiss?” he murmurs.

In the briefest of seconds, the playful defiance in your expression vanishes. Dilated pupils, flushed cheeks, startled awareness - a raw current of your feelings spills forth, naked and exposed. “Cut it out, Logan,” you manage, the words a strained imitation of your usual steadiness.

But it's too late.

He knows now.

Satisfaction, rich and syrupy, darkens his eyes. Logan pushes himself up instantly, towering over you with a smirk. "Same time tomorrow?"

[theunseenlibrary]

Writing Notes & References

Alchemy ⚜ Antidote to Anxiety ⚜ Attachment ⚜ Autopsy

Art: Elements ⚜ Principles ⚜ Photographs ⚜ Watercolour

Bruises ⚜ Caffeine ⚜ Color Blindness ⚜ Cruise Ships

Children ⚜ Children's Dialogue ⚜ Childhood Bilingualism

Dangerousness ⚜ Drowning ⚜ Dystopia ⚜ Dystopian World

Culture ⚜ Culture Shock ⚜ Ethnocentrism & Cultural Relativism

Emotions: Anger ⚜ Fear ⚜ Happiness ⚜ Sadness

Emotional Intelligence ⚜ Genius (Giftedness) ⚜ Quirks

Facial Expressions ⚜ Laughter & Humour ⚜ Swearing & Taboo

Fantasy Creatures ⚜ Fantasy World Building

Generations ⚜ Literary & Character Tropes

Fight Scenes ⚜ Kill Adverbs

Food: Cooking Basics ⚜ Herbs & Spices ⚜ Sauces ⚜ Wine-tasting ⚜ Aphrodisiacs ⚜ List of Aphrodisiacs ⚜ Food History ⚜ Cocktails ⚜ Literary & Hollywood Cocktails ⚜ Liqueurs

Genre: Crime ⚜ Horror ⚜ Fantasy ⚜ Speculative Biology

Hate ⚜ Love ⚜ Kinds of Love ⚜ The Physiology of Love

How to Write: Food ⚜ Colours ⚜ Drunkenness

Jargon ⚜ Logical Fallacies ⚜ Memory ⚜ Memoir

Magic: Magic System ⚜ 10 Uncommon ⚜ How to Choose

Moon: Part 1 2 ⚜ Related Words

Mystical Items & Objects ⚜ Talisman ⚜ Relics ⚜ Poison

Pain ⚜ Pain & Violence ⚜ Poison Ivy & Poison Oak

Realistic Injuries 1 2 ⚜ Rejection ⚜ Structural Issues ⚜ Villains

Symbolism: Colors ⚜ Food ⚜ Numbers ⚜ Storms

Thinking ⚜ Thinking Styles ⚜ Thought Distortions

Terms of Endearment ⚜ Ways of Saying "No" ⚜ Yoga

Compilations: Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Worldbuilding ⚜ For Poets ⚜ Tips & Advice

all posts are queued. will update this every few weeks/months. send questions or requests here ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[theunseenlibrary]

Writing Worksheets & Templates

will update this every few weeks/months. alternatively, here are all my tagged Writing Worksheets & Templates

Chapter Outline ⚜ Character- or Plot-Driven Story

Death & Sacrifice ⚜ Magic & Rituals ⚜ Plot-Planning

Editing: Sentence Check ⚜ Writing Your Novel: 20 Questions

Tension ⚜ Thought Distortions ⚜ What's at Stake

Character Development

50 Questions ⚜ Backstory ⚜ Character Creation

Antagonist; Villain; Fighting ⚜ Protagonist & Antagonist

Character: Change; Adding Action; Conflict

Character: Creator; Name; Quirks; Flaws; Motivation

Character Profile (by Rick Riordan) ⚜ Character Sheet Template

Character Sketch & Bible ⚜ Interview your Character

Story-Worthy Hero ⚜ "Well-Rounded" Character Worksheet

Worldbuilding

20 Questions ⚜ Decisions & Categories ⚜ Worksheet

Setting ⚜ Dystopian World ⚜ Magic System (AALC Method)

Templates: Geography; World History; City; Fictional Plant

References: Worldbuilding ⚜ Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

all posts are queued. send questions/requests here.

[theunseenlibrary]

When your Character...

Gets into: A Fight ⚜ ...Another Fight ⚜ ...Yet Another Fight

Hates Someone ⚜ Kisses Someone ⚜ Falls in Love

Calls Someone they Love ⚜ Dies / Cheats Death ⚜ Drowns

is...

A Ballerina ⚜ A Child ⚜ Interacting with a Child ⚜ A Cheerleader

A Cowboy ⚜ A Genius ⚜ A Lawyer ⚜ A Pirate ⚜ A Spy

A Wheelchair User ⚜ A Zombie ⚜ Beautiful ⚜ Dangerous ⚜ Drunk

Funny ⚜ In a Coma ⚜ In a Secret Society ⚜ Injured ⚜ Shy

needs...

A Magical Item ⚜ An Aphrodisiac ⚜ A Fictional Poison

A Coping Strategy ⚜ A Drink ⚜ A Medicinal Herb ⚜ A Mentor

Money ⚜ A Persuasion Tactic ⚜ A Quirk ⚜ To be Killed Off

To Become Likable ⚜ To Clean a Wound ⚜ To Self-Reflect

To Find the Right Word, but Can't ⚜ To Say No ⚜ To Swear

loves...

Astronomy ⚜ Baking ⚜ Cooking ⚜ Cocktails ⚜ Food ⚜ Oils

Dancing ⚜ Fashion ⚜ Gems ⚜ Herbal Remedies ⚜ Honey

Mushrooms ⚜ Mythology ⚜ Numbers ⚜ Perfumes

Roses ⚜ Sweets ⚜ To Argue ⚜ To Insult ⚜ To Kiss

To Make False Claims ⚜ Wine ⚜ Wine-Tasting ⚜ Yoga

has/experiences...

Allergies ⚜ Amnesia ⚜ Bereavement ⚜ Bites & Stings

Bruises ⚜ Caffeine ⚜ CO Poisoning ⚜ Color Blindness

Facial Hair ⚜ Fainting ⚜ Fevers ⚜ Food Allergies

Food Poisoning ⚜ Fractures ⚜ Frostbite ⚜ Hypothermia

Injuries ⚜ Jet Lag ⚜ Kidnapping ⚜ Manipulation ⚜ Mutism

Pain ⚜ Paranoia ⚜ Poisoning ⚜ More Pain & Violence

Scars ⚜ Trauma ⚜ Viruses ⚜ Wounds

[these are just quick references. more research may be needed to write your story...]

Writing Resources PDFs

[theunseenlibrary]

ohh being pressed up against a wall, his knee in between your thighs, his nose buried in the crook of your neck . . . his smile is breathy, his thumb grazes your throat. when you swallow, he knows he has you where he wants you . . .

[theunseenlibrary]

soft, slow full body massage to being held down and roughly finger fucked pleaseeeee

[theunseenlibrary]

10 Non-Lethal Injuries to Add Pain to Your Writing

New Part: 10 Lethal Injury Ideas

If you need a simple way to make your characters feel pain, here are some ideas: 

1. Sprained Ankle

A common injury that can severely limit mobility. This is useful because your characters will have to experience a mild struggle and adapt their plans to their new lack of mobiliy. Perfect to add tension to a chase scene.

2. Rib Contusion

A painful bruise on the ribs can make breathing difficult, helping you sneak in those ragged wheezes during a fight scene. Could also be used for something sport-related! It's impactful enough to leave a lingering pain but not enough to hinder their overall movement.

3. Concussions

This common brain injury can lead to confusion, dizziness, and mood swings, affecting a character’s judgment heavily. It can also cause mild amnesia.

I enjoy using concussions when you need another character to subtly take over the fight/scene, it's an easy way to switch POVs. You could also use it if you need a 'cute' recovery moment with A and B.

4. Fractured Finger

A broken finger can complicate tasks that require fine motor skills. This would be perfect for characters like artists, writers, etc. Or, a fighter who brushes it off as nothing till they try to throw a punch and are hit with pain.

5. Road Rash

Road rash is an abrasion caused by friction. Aka scraping skin. The raw, painful sting resulting from a fall can be a quick but effective way to add pain to your writing. Tip: it's great if you need a mild injury for a child.

6. Shoulder Dislocation

This injury can be excruciating and often leads to an inability to use one arm, forcing characters to confront their limitations while adding urgency to their situation. Good for torture scenes.

7. Deep Laceration

A deep laceration is a cut that requires stitches. As someone who got stitches as a kid, they really aren't that bad! A 2-3 inch wound (in length) provides just enough pain and blood to add that dramatic flair to your writing while not severely deterring your character.

This is also a great wound to look back on since it often scars. Note: the deeper and wider the cut the worse your character's condition. Don't give them a 5 inch deep gash and call that mild.

8. Burns

Whether from fire, chemicals, or hot surfaces, burns can cause intense suffering and lingering trauma. Like the previous injury, the lasting physical and emotional trauma of a burn is a great wound for characters to look back on.

If you want to explore writing burns, read here.

9. Pulled Muscle

This can create ongoing pain and restrict movement, offering a window to force your character to lean on another. Note: I personally use muscle related injuries when I want to focus more on the pain and sprains to focus on a lack of mobility.

10. Tendonitis

Inflammation of a tendon can cause chronic pain and limit a character's ability to perform tasks they usually take for granted. When exploring tendonitis make sure you research well as this can easily turn into a more severe injury.

This is a quick, brief list of ideas to provide writers inspiration. Since it is a shorter blog, I have not covered the injuries in detail. This is inspiration, not a thorough guide. Happy writing! :)

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors!

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[theunseenlibrary]

Imagine he's so into you that all it takes is a few bobs of your head on his cock, pulling off just to give the tip a teasing kiss and then he blows his load on your face by accident.

[theunseenlibrary]

Let’s play a game called ‘how horny can I make you in public before you snap?’

[theunseenlibrary]

Unbridled

Centaur!Pero Tovar x f!reader

“May I please you, hermosa?” he panted against your neck, nibbling his way up to your ear and growling when you nodded. “Gracias, princesa. I will keep my word, no human man will ever satisfy you as well as I am about to.”

Summary: The woods have always been full of myths, but you never expected one to just show up at your doorstep. You promise them a night in your barn, but one of them takes your generosity as an invitation for more.

Rating: Explicitly delicious

Word count: 9.5k

Content warnings: Centaur fucking, horse cocks, size kink, oral f receiving, double fisted hand jobs, cum inflation, creme pie, so much fucking cum. Nonsexual: food mention and eating, horse puns, lots of swearing, Tovar being a dick but also being so soft.

A/N: I wrote this pretty quickly so it's kind of a hot mess but over all its just fun and sexy, with some quirky sillyness thrown in. Centaur!Tovar has been on my mind since before I saw the movie, I even did a little art of him and have been meaning to do a fic ever since.

The sound of distant thunder drew your attention away from where you were harvesting vegetables from your garden to look up at the clear, beautifully blue sky, and your brow creased in confusion. There were a few faint wisps of fluffy little clouds skirting along the horizon, preparing a nice comfortable bed for the sun to rest, but aside from that there was nothing to block the first few stars opening their eyes in the eastern sky.

And yet the rumbling continued.

As the sound grew louder you realized it wasn’t coming from the sky, it was coming from the nearby woods, and your heart sank at the familiarity of the cadenceless drums.

Horses.

A stampede of horses, surely, by the sound of so many hooves crashing through the forest, bearing their riders straight to your lonely little neck of the woods. You dropped your basket of vegetables, scrambling out of the fresh-turned earth towards your cabin. The log-and-mortar home of yours was just outside of town, but far enough away that you would never make it to the safety of the village before the raiders burst from the trees.

You had to make your stand here.

Being a farmer you didn’t have much in the way of weapons, but you had a heavy cast iron pan that had been the last sight of many a coon getting into your chicken coop. It would have to do.

You barricaded the door and backed yourself against the thickest wall right as the riders burst from the treeline. There were only two of them that you could see out the window, but they weren’t whooping and hollering like the last raid had. No, they were quiet aside from their horses feet, but that wasn’t the only thing amiss.

Their horses did not have heads.

Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping like raw ice through your veins and blurring your vision, but you swore that neither of the beasts had heads, and, now that you were looking more closely at the incoming bandits, you realized the riders also didn’t have any legs.

Wait, yes they did, they had four.

Are those... centaurs!?

The galloping creatures slowed their pace to a canter, then to a soft trot as they approached your home. They were well-armored and bristling with weapons, but they spoke easily to each other as they approached the door.

-Knock knock knock!-

“Hello in there!” spoke the voice of a man clearly from the High North, where tales of vikings and giants often drifted down from. “We mean no harm, we’re just looking for lodging for the night, can you help us?”

“Hermano, perhaps they do not speak English. Let me try. ¿Hola? Abre, por favor.” The one that spoke now had a much deeper voice than the other, gruff and rugged around the edges and lacking all of the bedside manner of his companion. “Open up before I kick this door in!”

“Pero! Have some manners!” You heard the clip-clop of hooves shuffling on your patio as the men argued. “Forgive my brash friend here, he was raised in a barn!”

“So were you, amigo!” the rude one said with a snort.

When you didn’t answer, hoping they would just go away, the nicer of the pair stated: “I don’t think there’s anyone here, hopefully they won’t mind us bunking down in the barn for the night then.” You tightened your grip on the cast iron pan, listening to the beast-men outside the door. There was the faintest clinkle of a bag of gold being set on the rocking chair, then the sound of hooves leaving the wooden porch and starting off towards the barn.

As much as you wanted to breathe a sigh of relief that the monsters were leaving, you couldn’t relax knowing that’s where your own horses were kept. Where your mares were kept.

Oh hell no.

Monsters or not, they weren’t touching your girls, and you burst out the door and into the warm twilight. “Hey!” You shouted, drawing the attention of the two half-men. Their sudden gazes sapped all the blood from your legs as fear curdled in your veins. They really were centaurs! And big ones at that, making them exponentially more terrifying without the heavy oak door to protect you. “You can sleep in the barn, but if you touch my mares I’ll turn you both into glue!”

The men looked quizzically at each other, then burst into laughter. “Mares?!” sputtered the one with the lighter complexion, blond hair, and russet fur; his blue eyes disappearing behind his cheeks. “We’re not animals, my lady! Well, I’m not. My companion here however I wouldn’t trust near a goat.”

“¡Hijo de puta!” barked the other, slugging the first one in the shoulder. This one was bulkier than the other, his broad human torso easily seen even under all his chainmail and armor. His face seemed to have a perpetual scowl, wrinkling the jagged scar that ran from his thick black locks almost to the corner of his lip as it passed over his eye; how the eye had managed to stay intact you would never know. There were numerous scars on his horse body as well, battle wounds running from shoulder to flank, interrupting his jet-black fur with streaks of pale white.

“If you promise not to touch my horses you can bed down in the barn for the night, but just one night! Got it?!” You raised your valiant cookware at them, and though they weren’t actually intimidated by you in the slightest, they agreed.

“Thank you, kind lady.” Said the blond, doing a mans’ bow with his top half and a slight bend in his forelegs in thanks. “My name is William Garin, and this jolly fellow is my companion, Pero Tovar.” The second centaur did not bow or flourish as the first, merely nodded his head with a snort. “You’ll see not hide nor hair of us until the morrow when we take our leave. And I promise we will not lay a hand or hoof on any of your horses.”

William thanked you again and turned away, dragging Pero with him towards the barn. The second beast’s eyes lingered on you a little longer than you thought appropriate, sparking with a faint grin as they walked towards your barn.

You watched them go, letting your pan drop and your shoulders finally relax, and it was then that you realized you were shaking just a bit. The man-beasts seemed gentle, though their weapons and armor told you that might just be a farce. Stranger yet was that they only seemed bothered with clothing their human halves, their horse bodies unarmored.

And unclothed.

And… completely naked.

You were used to horse butts, hell, your barn was chock full’a horse butt, but watching those flanks saunter towards the barn behind the bickering men made your face hotter than the iron pan usually got.

Maybe it was because neither of them were gelded.

Night came fast this time of year, though it was barely past supper, the sky was already dark sapphire blue, haloed with a slight edge of gold where the sun had gone to rest. You sat in your warm cabin, the blaze from the fire pit emblazoning in every reflective surface of your pots and pans, glittering like lost stars on the iron nails that held the wooden boards together. Herbs dried over the fireplace, basil and oregano, rosemary and thyme. A handful of cinnamon sticks sat in a jar on the mantle, a rare spice in your part of the world, but you only needed a few to entice the cozy aroma from them.

The vegetable stew in your mug should have brought you comfort and ease, but you couldn’t stop thinking about your somewhat-unwelcome guests. You slightly wondered if you’d imagined it, the woods playing tricks on your mind. But the occasional barrel-chested laugh wandered through the night air to your ears, sprinkled intermittently with rough-barked curses.

Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was the nagging thought that you weren’t being a very good host, but either way something had you rising from your seat and packing up the stew pot and some utensils - do centaurs use utensils? You brought them anyway, half tempted to grab one of the extra feed bags you used for the horses as well, but decided against it.

The cool evening air made your cheeks prickle the moment you stepped out into it, the steam of the stew pot immediately visible. In a cloud of tasty-smelling fog you hustled to the barn, trying not to talk yourself out of being a good host. Or maybe you were just going to check on the mares, yea that’s it - though your only weapon of defense was a hot pot of stew. Look out, here comes a ~mighty warrior~.

You rapped on the barn door with your foot, feeling a little silly since it was, in fact, your goddamn barn, but thought it best not to be rude. A shuffling of hooves came from the other side before the barn door swung open to reveal the one called Pero. “¿Si?” he rasped, glaring down at you with hooded eyes, that seemingly-perpetual scowl digging furrows into the sides of his scruffy cheeks. Were it not for his stompy hooves and swishy tail you might have found him handsome, even if he did seem like a jerk.

“Do you eat people food or is the hay enough?” you said, hoisting the stewpot higher so he could see.

His torso bent where the horse’s neck would’ve been, making him tower over you even more than he already did. He took a handful of deep inhales, sniffing the pot curiously, then nodded with a grunt. “Not poisoned, is it?”

“I’m not that bad of a cook!” You barked back, making Pero chuckle just a bit, almost secretly. He stepped aside then, gesturing for you to come in with a wave of his broad palm and a swish of his tail.

“My lady!” called William as soon as he spotted you from where he was sitting on a pile of hay. Laying… sitting? His hooves were under him, tucked comfortably so his human half was upright, you weren’t sure what to call it but he looked happy. You glanced from him to where your own horses were milling about in their stalls on the other side of the barn, safe and untouched. “You didn’t have to bring us supper, but we are certainly appreciative, isn’t that right, Pero?” The dark horseman grunted as a form of response, but was circling you almost menacingly. You instinctively clutched the soup pot tighter, but William was already to the rescue. “Don’t mind him, fair maiden, he may be impolite but I’ve known that old dog long enough to know when he’s hungry and likes what’s on the menu.”

You glared at Pero, who clicked his tongue and trotted away, his intimidating demeanor thwarted by his companion. Setting the pot and bowls down on one of the tack tables, you made to take your leave, but as soon as you backed up you ran into a wall of fur and meat.

“Lo siento,” the sudden centaur huffed, pushing around you to get to the soup. “Hungry.” Pero pointed at the stew pot with one broad, calloused finger, stomping his hoof demandingly.

You pushed the ladle into his hand. “Here, help yourself. I’m not your servant.”

Pero, very good at ignoring people it would seem, dug heartily into the simmering broth, spooning it directly into his mouth.

“Tovar. Use a bowl!” William barked, ripping the ladle away and making himself a serving like a human person. “Be civilized for once in your life.”

“‘S’good.” he said, grabbing for the spoon, which William whacked him with before making him a bowl. Pero took it greedily, gulping it down in one go and immediately holding his empty bowl out for more.

“Good heavens Pero, you’re going to eat this poor woman out of house and home, she hasn’t even gotten a bowl for herself yet!”

“I ate already, these are leftovers.” You half mumbled, watching Pero bolster in for another serving. “Shit, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so excited to eat my cooking before.”

Both of them looked at you surprised, though William was decidedly more confused than Pero, whose gruffness had been replaced with excitement. “She cooks and she curses? A shame you don’t have more legs, I would make you my wife.”

“A shame you don’t smell better, maybe I’d take you up on that offer, but I like my nose right where it is and would hate to have to cut it off.” Your retaliation made William nearly topple with laughter, and Pero grunt and stomp like an unruly stallion.

“Hmph! See if I compliment your cooking again then, señorita.”

“See if I cook for you again, ponyboy! At least that one is polite enough to use a bowl. He can eat people food, but you, I hope you like oats for breakfast because that’s all you’re getting!”

“How do you know I don’t like to eat people?” Pero snarled, standing up to his full height which put you barely at his human sternum. You didn’t know enough about centaurs to know if he was bluffing, so you stuck your tongue out at him and stormed out of the barn, slamming the door behind you.

As you plowed back to your cabin you could hear the two of them arguing in the barn, William disgusted with Pero for being so rude, and Pero utterly flummoxed about what he did wrong.

Morning came briskly, leaving spiderwebs of frost along the window panes, turning to crystal clear streams as the sun peeked over the horizon. You wrapped yourself up in your soft doeskin breeches, thick wool tunic, and a heavy fur cloak before you made to head outside for your morning chores. You usually made breakfast with fresh eggs from the coop after you let the chickens out, and you wondered if you would have enough today to make breakfast for your guests as well.

You made to let yourself out, but dropped your empty egg basket as soon as the door swung wide, finding yourself face-to-fist with one of the centaurs. Pero recoiled his hand from where he was about to knock, doing a little shuffle that the mares usually did when they were startled.

“Hermosa, erm, good morning.” he said sheepishly, carding a broad palm nervously through his hair. “What’s for breakfast?”

Wow. “Nothing for you, you threatened to eat me!” You barked, jabbing your finger into his armored man-gut since that was the closest thing you could reach. “William gets to have eggs and toast, if he wants. You get oats.”

“I don’t want oats, I want eggs!”

“You want eggs? You can get them yourself!” You pointed at the chicken coop, one hand on your hip in defiance. His wide-eyed surprise made you bold, “If you were my husband you would have to get your own eggs, and help around the farm if you wanted to eat, so go on, practice!”

Pero scowled and harrumphed, turning on his many legs and trotting towards the coop with basket in hand. You watched, befuddled that he had just… done what’d he’d been told, but were soon even more disappointed with him than you already were.

He trotted around the low wooden building, inspecting the small windows and the closed door. He tilted his head, listening to the chickens inside clucking excitedly, waiting to be let out to greet the day. Eventually he figured out to fucking open the door, jumping back when all your fat hens rushed out, looking for their breakfast. The birds didn’t seem too bothered by the horse man, but were quickly agitated that he didn’t seem to have anything for them to eat.

Pero ignored the hungry hens and bent down to look in the coop door. It was graceless to say the least. His horse butt stuck up in the air, his forelegs half-bent so he could get his human head and arms into the hole; but it wasn’t built for large men, only chickens; and certainly not horses. At one point he attempted to use the egg basket as a scoop, which also didn’t work. You struggled to stifle your laughter while the centaur reached and struggled to get to the eggs, cursing in a foreign tongue that he couldn’t fulfill his quest.

“It’d be easier if you opened the egg door there, brainiac.”

“I know that!” no you don’t. Pero fixed you with a glare and finally noticed the angled slope of the roof had hinges on one side. That opened into the coop so that he could easily reach in to get the eggs, and pulled them out like he’d won a prize. “See? Good husband material, no?”

“Mm.. no.” You cocked a brow playfully at him and held your hand out, demanding the eggs. Pero, miffed by your disagreement, trotted up to you with the basket full of breakfast, but when you reached out to take it from him he caught your hand instead. “Pero! What are you-”

“Hermosa.” He purred against the back of your hand, dragging the bristles of his scruffy lip over the sensitive skin and planting a lingering kiss there, his amberdark eyes never breaking from yours. “What must I do to earn a breakfast that is more than just oats?”

Stunned, you fought the tide of goosebumps coursing over every inch of your skin to pull your hand back from the overly-confident centaur. “Stop that! Fine, I’ll make you breakfast too-” You looked away from his kicked-puppy expression to the wagon at the corner of the yard, half-sunk into the mud after one of the wheels broke. “If you go pull my cart out of the bog.”

The kicked puppy was replaced with a snarling junkyard dog. “Do I look like a draft horse to you?”

“Yeah, actually.” you said over crossed arms. “And draft horses love oats.”

For just a moment you were almost sad that you’d only offered the centaurs one night in your barn, because bossing Pero around like this was a real treat. He chuffed and grumbled as he went, and as promised, you set about making more than enough breakfast for three… five? Does the horse body count as extra people? Better not overthink it, you’ve only got a dozen eggs.

As you moved about the kitchen, making a huge pot of scrambled eggs and toasting two whole loaves of bread, watching out the window over the sink that gave you a perfect view of your helper. For such a big beast he stepped carefully through the mud, looking for the best leverage to pull out the wagon. It would probably be easier if he asked William for help, but something told you this was now a matter of pride.

Pero found the front of the cart and wrapped the muddy ropes around his broad hands, pulling it over his shoulder as he strained against the swampy suction. Muscle stood out on every inch of his body, from his onyx flanks to his rugged arms, his bristly mouth turned in a snarl as he dragged the wagon from its mucky grave.

The smell of slightly-burnt eggs stole your devious gaze away from the brute in the yard, earning a slew of curses from you when you saw the edges of your scrambled eggs had gone brown; though you doubted the men would mind. You got all the food around - including some toasted oats just to be a dick - and a bottle of mead packed in a basket and made for the barn.

Pero was there with William when you arrived, though he was covered head to hoof in sticky dark mud. He didn’t seem bothered by it though, or bothered by the thin sheen of sweat on his brow, making his dark curls stick. William was all smiles, polite as ever. “Good morning, fair. lady! See you’re already putting this one to work, about time he did something useful.”

“¡Silencio! I have earned my breakfast, unlike you, culo vago!”

“Is he always like this?” You asked Will playfully, handing him the basket of breakfast. The northerner nodded, fighting to keep the basket away from Pero. “Hey, save some for me!”

“You heard the lady, Pero! You need to learn how to share!”

“First she makes me work, and then she makes me share?! Nevermind, I don’t wanna marry you anymore.”

“Oh no, woe is me.” you pressed the back of your hand to your forehead mockingly, “However will I live without your naked horse ass tracking mud all over my barn?”

Pero growled and snatched a plate of eggs and the entire bottle of mead, then stormed out of the barn to go eat outside. William might be the giggliest creature you’d ever met, because he couldn’t stop laughing at Pero’s tantrum. “I’ve never seen him like that, I think he likes you.”

You finished a polite, civilized breakfast with William before going to find Pero. He wasn’t hard to locate, the big beast taking up a sizable portion of your fence where he was leaning, using the wooden railtop as a table while he stuffed scrambled eggs into his piehole sans fork. The mud had started to dry, covering him in big patches of crumbling earth, matting his fur and probably making him uncomfortable; but if he was he didn’t show it.

“How’s the eggs?” You asked, leaning on the fence with him. He was still considerably taller than you, so you climbed up the fence and sat on top of it, putting you almost at eye level with the scowling creature.

He huffed and stomped his hooves a bit, but soon relented. “S’good. You cook good, hermosa. I wish I could stay longer and eat more of your food.” he said around a mouthful of eggs.

“You’d eat me out of house and home, big guy. Would have to earn your keep.” You were joking, there was no way you could continue to feed a centaur, let alone two, but the quick glance in Pero’s dark eyes belied his hidden excitement. It was a fleeting look, but you still caught it, and tried to bury it swiftly. “There’s lots of work to be done on the farm, especially since I’m out here by myself. Wood’ll need to be brought in for the winter, and the chicken coop needs shoring up. Not to mention the spring plowing and sowing.” You side-eyed the scars that pockmarked his body from countless battles. “It’s… boring. You wouldn’t like it.”

“Not boring.” he stated coldly, quaffing half the bottle of mead. “But like you said, I am too big, and I would track mud everywhere. You would not like me here.”

That wasn’t something you were ready to give too much thought to, but the muddy part you could do something about. “Thank you, by the way, for pulling the cart out of the mud. It’s been there since the summer rains and it’s been hell without it.”

“De nada.”

“There’s a creek not too far from here, I can show you if you want to get washed up? Might even have some horse brushes you could borrow.”

Tovar laughed like you’d said something ridiculous. “It has been ages since I’ve had a good wash.” He chugged the rest of the mead with a belch, dragging the scarred back of his hand over his beard and mustache. “Si, hermosa, please lead the way.”

You were not at all surprised that the big stinky animal hadn’t had a bath in a while, and William had a good laugh when you told him where you were going while you grabbed some brushes from the barn. Though you didn’t entirely trust either of them, you thought it would be smart for Will to know where you and Tovar were off to, in case he came back with a full belly but without you. The chestnut centaur smiled and winked as you left, but didn’t say anything insinuating besides ‘don’t get into too much trouble you two!’

The creek was nearly a river at this time of year, its banks swollen with the last of the fall rains that would soon recede and freeze in the coming winter. For now though it was cool, almost too cold, but you were a hardy woodswoman and had handled worse. You weren’t planning on getting in, but as soon as Pero saw it he was ripping off his armor and galloping towards it, splashing you with ice cold spray.

“Don’t get me wet, Pero! I’m trying to stay dry!” You hollered, though you’d already failed that task, nearly soaked from the playful pony. You wiped water out of your eyes to glare at him, but quickly averted your gaze from the now entierly-naked beast.

“What’s wrong, hermosa? Don’t like what you see?” He boasted, splashing more water at you so you had to defend yourself, uncovering your eyes.

“No! I mean- yeah- I mean, fuck, you’re naked!”

“I’m hardly more naked than I was before I got in, don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring at my cock. How is my chest worse to look at?”

The ice water nearly boiled off of your hot face, but he was right. It wasn’t like he could wear pants anyway. You couldn’t help looking at him now since he was so generously presenting himself, his human half streaked with water as it coursed over his body, making the hairline that dusted his human belly stick to his skin. There were even more scars on his torso than there were on his flank, long jagged ones, big circular gashes, and even one on his shoulder that looked like a bite mark from something impossibly bigger than he was.

And motherfucker was he big, unfairly so. Heavy muscle crisscrossed under his marred flesh with just the perfect amount of softness to cushion him. The fur on his body thinned abruptly where man met beast, but the dark fur stayed connected as it went up his belly and chest, begging for someone to run their hand through it.

Tovar noticed you staring at his mythical body, a slight pout creasing his plush lips. “Here, I have an idea.” He said, turning away from you and giving you a delicious glimpse of his back and shoulder muscles. As he waded further into the water, the bottom half of him disappeared under the waves until all that was equine of him was hidden from view, and you were left with only a half naked man, which was somehow worse. “Better? Come, join me.”

He was clearly being flirtatious, but the way he scrubbed at himself trying to get the mud off was anything but. “No, Pero, it’s too cold! And I already told you I don’t want to get wet.”

“I will keep you warm, come. I can’t reach the mud on my back. Which is your fault, by the way. Please, hermosa?” Tovar was playing every angle at once, flirting and guilting and pleading. One of them must have worked, because you were groaning to the heavens with slumped shoulders before kicking your boots and pants off. Unlike the centaur, you took a hot second to actually hang your clothes up to keep them clean, laying everything on a low tree branch.

You could feel Pero’s eyes boring through your spine as you undressed, and he didn’t bother averting them when you turned and faced him, naked as the day you were born. Quickly you covered yourself with your arms and dashed for the water, your eagerness to be modest blown to shit by the freezing cold water. “Fuck!” You screamed, flailing while your brain shorted out trying to decide if you should go deeper or jump out.

Neither of those were what you ended up with though. Instead you felt two tree-trunk like arms wrap around your middle, pulling you into a searingly hot embrace. “You’re alright, cariño, I’ve got you.” A man’s baritone rasped in your ear, his words hugged by the most secretive smile. “Can you not swim?”

“I c-c-can s-swim f-f-fine!” you chattered, half frozen. You kicked your legs to make a point, trying not to let your fear show when you couldn’t feel the bottom.

“Oh ok.” Tovar let you go, and though you could swim on a good day, the cold water made your muscles cramp, threatening to sink you. It was with no small annoyance that, as you were frantically treading water, you realized he was just fucking standing up. Stupid horse. “Are you sure?” he asked bemusedly, a lopsided smile crinkling his cheeks.

You couldn’t even say no, instead you just reached for him, and let him scoop you back into his arms. He hugged you to his chest, letting his heat seep into your body, making every muscle slowly relax; from your pebbled nipples to your tense shoulders, down your tight back and finally your free-swimming legs. As the warmth rejuvenated you, you let your legs kick forward slightly, brushing against where his forelegs were firmly planted in the riverbed.

The illusion he was putting on for you - hiding his beastliness below the water - worked well enough for you, at least for now, giving you a chance to only focus on the man. It pissed you off that he was even more handsome up close, even with his frown lines and his jagged scar. His eyes, hooded by a heavy brow, were so deep and dark you were afraid that if you looked into them for too long you would drown in their melted caramel depths just like you had nearly done in the river.

He did not give you long to stare into his eyes though, closing them as he leaned down, pressing the softest kiss imaginable to your lips. If he wasn’t so handsome, or so toasty warm, you might have smacked him for being so forward. But you’d undressed and ran naked into the water of your own volition, and sought him out to warm you of your own free will. So it was with your own free will as well that you kissed him back.

There was the tiniest gasp of surprise from the big warrior, slightly shocked that you’d melt against him so willingly, but he didn’t question it. Those big beefy arms tightened around your waist, one long forearm stretching up your back to bury strong fingers in your hair, letting him kiss you deeper. For such a rugged beast, his lips were more plush than the finest downy pillow, silky and sweet as they moved over your own. His scruffy chin nudged yours, and you felt his inquisitive tongue peep out to brush your bottom lip, careful and poilite. You rewarded him with a lap of your own, nipping his lip between your teeth and making him inhale sharply.

“Hermosa…” He growled into the cup of your mouth, returning your bite with one twice as strong. “How many wagons must I pull from the muck to be kissed like this again?”

“That was my only wagon, but I’m sure I can find more chores for you to earn your keep with.”

“To taste your lips, and your cooking, I would pull a thousand wagons.”

“Oh I see how it is, you just want to eat all my food!”

“Untrue!” He roared, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, leaving little kitten nibbles along the column of your throat. “I also want to eat all of you.” You eeped and squirmed in his grasp, but the beast was too strong, joyfully running his mouth over every inch he could reach; sucking, biting, kissing, leaving a trail of his claims that turned the water around you molten with desire. “I could satisfy you like no human man ever could, princesa. What do you say, eh? Say yes, and let me see if you taste as good as the food you make.”

It was tempting to be sure, this gorgeous hunk of chevaline offering to please you, but it wasn’t enough to distract from his use of the word ‘human’. Water nearly steamed off of your cheeks at what he was promising you, having already seen what he was packing even completely flaccid. And was it even right to fuck a centaur? They already said they weren't truly animals. Even so, you weren’t entirely sure if his cock would even fit in you.

Pero could sense your hesitancy without you uttering a single word. “That is alright, hermosa, perhaps I need to do a few more chores around the farm to earn your love.” You half-heartedly agreed, bashful at his use of the L word. “I will prove myself good husband material!”

Again with this! “Pero-!” You started to refute him, but those strong arms dove under water and found the rest of you, hauling you bridal-style out of the cold water you’d grown used to and into the even colder air. “Shit fuck that’s cold!”

“I am clean now, let’s get out of the chilly water.” Pero, seemingly unaffected by the cold, hugged you to his broad, warm chest as he walked out of the creek. Water cascaded off of him as he stepped onto the shore, his jet-black fur even darker now that it was wet. He set you on your feet gently and took a few steps away, shaking himself like a big wet dog and throwing water everywhere, including your dry clothes. Fucksake.

He didn’t even seem to notice that he’d soaked your clothes, instead he trotted happily over to a dry, sunny patch of grass and immediately laid down, sprawling out in the warm sun. The way he moved wasn’t quite like a horse, but not quite like a man either, somehow meeting both in the middle; the strength and agility of a stallion with the intelligence and assuredness of a man. He rolled onto his back and stretched, showing off the most touchable tummy ever. Forget his stupid dick, you wanna get that belleh.

“Pero, can I, um…” You stuttered, trying not to shiver as your skin dried in the cool midmorning breeze. The stallion eyed you curiously, not so much lustfully as just plain… intrigued, wondering what was running through your mind. “Can… can I brush you?”

“You don’t even have to ask, pretty girl. Come, join me in the sun.” He rolled off of his back and onto his side, tucking his hooves under him and resting his human half on his elbow. “It would be an honor to be brushed by such a beautiful lady.”

The sunlight felt amazing on your bare body as you joined him in the patch of celestial gold, crackling heated pathways along your skin and drying you faster than being in the shade of the trees did. As Pero dried as well, the brackish smell of the creekwater faded, and you were able to smell his real scent. You were used to the horsey-ness of the barn, so you were noseblind to that, but the scent of warm body and a faint spice you didn’t recognize pooled blessed heat into your chest.

He didn’t budge as you approached him, only his tail swishing wetly while you kneeled in the warm grass beside him. The old, wooden boar-hair brush you used for your own horses almost looked like an insult compared to the mighty beast laying in the sun, but he seemed to enjoy it all the same as you started dragging the bristles through his fur. Water beaded along the edge of the brush as you went, falling in streams across his body, leaving his coat shiny and clean.

“I wish you were like me, hermosa, so that I could return the favor to you.” Tovar hummed, stretching a foreleg out so you could brush his shoulder. “Nobody has ever done this for me. It is… very nice.”

“Well, I mean you could brush my hair, but not with this brush. It’s too rough.”

“You would let me?” he asked, propping himself up on one elbow to see you better. You shrugged after a moment and nodded, making a bright grin split Tovar’s face from ear to ear. “When you are my wife, I will brush your hair every day.”

“Stop saying that!” you snapped, swatting him with the brush hard enough to make him jump. “Why do you think I’m going to marry you? You’re a centaur! What would the townspeople think if I walked into town… rode into town with you? On you? How would that even work? And, I barely know you! You’ve been in my barn for one night, which, by the way, is all you paid for.”

“I care not what the townsfolk think of me, and should they wish to challenge me I will cut them down with my blades, or stomp them to death under my hooves.” Pero waved off the imaginary hasslers with a grunt. “And I would gladly pay for another night in the barn if it meant the chance to earn your heart.”

“You’re a strange one, Pero Tovar.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” he said, cocking a bisected brow at you and watching as you picked the brush back up to resume your task.

“What do you even like about me anyway? We’re only half similar. Isn’t there a centaur out there that you like?” You didn’t meet his eyes as you continued to brush, but you could feel those warm depths on you, hunting your face for what troubled you.

“There have been many, but none have ever spoken to me so brashly as you. You do not need as many legs as I have for me to see how beautiful and strong you are.” He reached for your hand, twisting his upper body in a way that couldn’t be comfortable. “These hands have had a hard life, and deserve someone to make it easier.”

“And that’s you?”

He shrugged. “Could be.”

You pretended to mull it over, giving him a mischievous smirk. “I’ll… think about it. Let me finish brushing you.” Tovar snorted his approval, seemingly content with your answer and laying back down in the grass. He was almost entirely dry on this side, so you patted his flank asking him to roll over.

Instead of rolling onto his tummy, he rolled onto his back, stretching as long as he could and putting that super soft belly on display for you. You took your offering greedily, running the brush from between his forelegs and down his ribs, laughing when he twitched from the slight tickle of it. His vulnerable underbelly was especially sensitive, and he hissed and cursed at you while you brushed it, torn between enjoying the sensation and being tickled to death.

You managed to ignore his enormous-even-when-soft horsecock when he rolled over, letting you brush the other side of him clean and dry. Your mares would never let you touch their bellies, and would probably kick your head clean off if you even tried, but the centaur was smart enough not to do that. When you finished with his other side, you brushed your way up to where his human half grew. “If I had a softer brush I would brush your hair as well.” You said softly, tousling his damp locks.

“Your hands are fine, mi amor.” He said, nuzzling into your palm, demanding that you keep playing with his hair. Running your fingers through his hair squeegeed the water out so it ran down the back of his neck, but maybe the chill water wasn’t the only reason that he shuddered. Just for fun, you rolled his curls around your fingers, making little curly-q’s stand up from his furrowed brow.

Deciding that was enough silly time, Tovar dragged you into the grass with him,wrapping his broad arms around you and rolling you against his chest. He moved you effortlessly, pushing you onto your back and pinning you beneath him, his expansive chest blotting out the fact that there was a half-ton more of him you couldn’t see. Wet grass licked at your bare back, but you were too distracted by Pero caging you in for another kiss to notice.

It was a good thing you were a little bit of a nasty farm girl with no shame, because the way you instinctively wrapped your legs around his middle would have made a nun faint. His human ‘hips’, horse shoulders, whatever, were the perfect size for you to lock your legs around, though the closest thing he could do to ‘rut’ against you like this was to push his forelegs under your thighs to hold you to him.

“May I please you, hermosa?” he panted against your neck, nibbling his way up to your ear and growling when you nodded. “Gracias, princesa. I will keep my word, no human man will ever satisfy you as well as I am about to.” He stole one more bruising kiss before making his way down your throat, adding fresh marks to the quiltwork of blooms he had already left there.

Laving his tongue against the dip of your collarbone made you keen for him, arching your back up under his impressive weight. A dark chuckle boomed deep in his throat, excited at your neediness before he’d even begun. From your throat he wandered over to your breast, sucking marks into the pillowy flesh and taking your nipple between his teeth. Maybe he really was going to eat you.

His bite was soft and lustful, the broad hook of his nose dimpling the fat of your breast every time he pushed his face into you, the creases of his face smoothed away in his pleasure. Your other tit wasn’t left wanting, his heavy palm coming up to rest under it, gripping the flesh and greedily toying with its hardened bud.

Tovar unlatched from your nipple with a loud, wet smack, a lust-drunk look in his wide-blown pupils. “Feel good, no? And that was just the appetizer.” He shuffled down your body - an impressive feat for one so big - searing a trail of lingering kisses down your sternum and tummy; leaving a particularly slow one just below your naval.

Then he moved down to your mound, dragging his palms over the inside of your spread thighs, his callouses catching on the delicate skin. You were expecting his mouth right away, but he wanted to take his time, savoring every moment of his feast. The beast buried his nose in the curls at the apex of your thighs, inhaling your scent almost obscenely deep. He hummed his approval and squished his face down further, making you squirm in his grip, your back arching almost painfully when his tongue found your clit.

“Better than breakfast.” He mumbled against you, dragging his tongue through your folds, flicking at your pearl with each pass. His tongue must have been bigger than a human man’s, because you could feel it part your lips and press its way into you, lapping deeply into your core.

His big appetite was truly to your favor, because the stallion licked and lapped at your blooming heat until your own arousal dripped down your thighs, mixed with his saliva and pooling under you before you’d even cum. Pero could feel you -taste you- getting close, locking his arms under your knees, burrowing his face in your cunt like a man starved until you gave him what he wanted, cumming hard into his open mouth. He drank every drop, sucking at your bud and making you cry out from the overstimulation. It wasn’t until you yanked him by his hair that he finally stopped eating you out.

Smiling and shining, Pero looked like he’d won an award, and was wearing his medal plainly on his face. “And here I thought your food was good, now I know that it is you that makes everything taste so sweet.”

You were too boneless to tell him that you weren’t cumming in the cookware, though you knew that’s not what he meant. He pulled himself out from your dripping cunt, carefully moving over you on his hands and whatever that fucking joint is called on his forelegs. Wrists? Elbows?

Anatomy be damned, his kisses were like fire and tasted of your passion, his lips puffy and slick from indulging on you. “Now, hermosa, it is my turn to seek pleasure.” Tovar pulled himself from your lips and rose, his body quickly towering over you as he found all four footings and revealing his fifth leg.

Oh fuck that’s a big boy.

Pero’s cock hung below him, swaying gently with his movements. There was nothing human about it, size or shape or otherwise. It was probably as long as your fucking arm, probably as thick, too; even thicker where he flared at the head. The base of him was as black as the fur it grew from, but as it continued -a long, long way- to his head his colors piebalded from black to pink, ending in the flush, dark purple head that wept with his arousal.

“P-pero…” you squeaked, your face draining of blood. “That thing is not going to fit!!”

“I can make it fit.”

“Pero!” You scolded, receiving a laugh for your blush. “It’s not gonna fit, at least, not like this.” You rolled over onto your knees, pushing your ass high in the air for him. “I can take it better like this, but you have to go slow, and if I tell you to stop, you stop. Got it?”

“Si, mi amor.” Tovar couldn’t reach you with his upper torso, so it was up to you to guide him. On your knees you were considerably lower than where one of his own species would be, but that would probably save you from being speared on his cock. The beefy thing nudged your ass, leaving big, wet kiss marks from its drooling tip. You reached back and grabbed it, instantly made nervous by him stomping his massive hooves so close to your head, but he was doing it in pleasure, not in fear. “¡Dios mío, por favor hermosa…!” He begged, and oh how you wished you could see his face.

“Go slow.” you reminded, lining him up with your dripping entrance. He huffed in affirmation and gently started pushing forward, and already you were worried that anatomy could not be damned as you had thought. Tovar’s horsecock split you like a log, the monstrosity making you wail into the soft grass. It ached, and for a moment you thought your insides were going to be ripped wide open, but once your cunt had stretched to accommodate him the ache was more pleasure than pain.

Along your spine you could feel Pero’s oversized lungs heaving, his body straining not to just fuck you into the ground. “Feels too good, cariño. C-can I move? I-I don’t want to hurt you.”

You took a deep, shaky breath and nodded, then verbally affirmed you could take it since he couldn’t see you. His cock slid back through your channel, the wide, flared head keeping him from dropping out before he thrust back in, bottoming out so hard you felt all your guts shift.

“Fuck.. fucking shit hermosa…” he grated through clenched teeth, his words stuttered by his monster cock pounding into you. “Need to get you s-something to s-stand on. Too low.” His forelegs spread as wide as he could, his human torso dropping between his equine shoulders in what had to be the strangest contortionary trick you’d ever seen. Face to upside-down face now, he was holding himself up on his hands, watching you take his cock. “Look at you, fucking gorgeous.”

You winked at the upside down man and leaned forwards to kiss him. He could almost reach, but it was awkward; your lips not quite meant to kiss this way.

“Pero, c-can you get on your back? Might be easier…”

“Anything for you, querida.” Tovar stole one more sloppy kiss and stood fully upright, allowing himself one more gut-scrambling thrust into you before pulling out. The head of him caught as it went, pulling you backwards and drawing a cry from your throat at the loss. You wouldn’t be left wanting for long though if the meaty thud of the beast hitting the ground was anything to go by. “I would never let anyone else ride me, but you? You may ride me to your heart's content.”

He sprawled on his back, his hindlegs curled up slightly to protect the enormous spire jutting from his groin. You paused to appreciate it, taking his cock between your hands and running up and down his length. The velvet skin was slick with his and your arousals, thick veins pulsing under the flesh, running hot with need. Tovar squirmed like he had when you were brushing his belly, but this time it was more with urgency than disapproval. Warm precum practically gushed from his tip, shiny in the meadow sun.

“Please, beautiful, I want to fill your cunt, not your hands.”

“I’m working on it!” You barked playfully, reaching up to use his foreleg as leverage to straddle his wide chest. Propping yourself up on your knees, you scooched your backside down until you felt him nudge your cunt, and this time he slipped into you with ease. You could watch him from your vantage point now, even if he was farther away than you would have liked; but oh how beautiful he was.

As his cock slipped through your silken walls his brow furrowed and creased, eyes going wide, lips parted in a desperate gasp. With him beneath you, you were fully in control, and you were going to use that to the fullest advantage. Slowly you rocked your hips back, fucking yourself on his enormous length, earning a needy whine every time the head of him bottomed out; though you were nowhere near the base of him.

The stretch of him had you seeing stars every time he found the end of you, his hips rocking up in time with your thrusts, demanding that you go faster or let him fuck you himself; but if he was so commited to proving himself worthy, he knew that he had to let you take the reins.

And you were happy to oblige.

You found a rhythm with him, taking him further and further into you, letting yourself get lost in the pleasurable ache of him filling you fuller than any human man could ever hope. You threw your head back, closed your eyes, and rode that pony, deaf to your own cries of pleasure as you chased your high.

“Hermosa…”

Tovar’s whine fell on deaf ears, too lost in your own bliss, in the thickness of him almost popping your hips out of their sockets.

“Hermosa!”

That got your attention, your eyes snapping open and fixing him with a confused glare. “What, Pero? Are you hurt? Is something wrong?”

“I was going to ask you that. Look!” He pointed at you from where he was laying in the grass, unable to reach you in his mythical anatomy. You followed his finger to your belly, a soft gasp escaping your lips when you could clearly see a bulge where Tovar’s cock was pushing through you. “Doesn’t that hurt?!”

You rubbed the strange new lump, making Pero convulse underneath you. “No, actually. Well, kinda, but not in a bad way.” You looked behind you to see how much of him was left, and found yourself firmly rooted at his base.

He looked up at you with star-struck eyes, as if you were the mythical creature here and not him. “Estrellas, I knew you were the one.”

“Shut up, Tovar.”

“Si, mi pequeña esposa.” Pero squeezed his forelegs against you as best he could, using his bestial strength to fuck you harder. With every thrust you watched your tummy, the bulge appearing and disappearing in time with him. You felt your own climax building, maybe more from the debauchery of being swelled by him than from being fucked on his cock, but either way you reached down to rub tight circles against your clit and bring yourself over the edge one more time.

Pero lost it at the sight of you touching yourself on his shaft, and fell over the edge with you when you came, your tight walls milking him for all he was worth. Molten seed poured into you as the stud came, pumping you full… fuller… fullest! His thick meat gave his cum nowhere to go but in, and in it did, swelling where his cock bulged your belly until you were round with him.

Both of you stared at the new roundness, panting heavily as you came down from your highs. You couldn’t help but drag your palm over it, feeling a strange heat build in your chest. Not one that came from arousal or passion, but one that came from love and adoration; and for a moment you wondered if you really could love this stranger.

“Can I feel it too?” He asked sheepishly, unable to reach you with his human hands and reluctant to try petting you with his hoof lest he hurt you. You nodded and clambered forward, feeling his softening length work its way out of you, but the moment the head of him left your swollen lips, so did his cum.

It gushed out of you, drenching you and the centaur in what had to be gallons of milky white seed. You were surprised to say the least, maybe a little disgusted as well, but more shocked than anything that all of that cum had even managed to fit in you. Shaky and sticky, you dismounted your stallion, wobbling foal-legged to where Pero was propping himself up, getting into a ‘sitting’ position so he could properly embrace you as you flopped into the grass.

“Gracias, mi amor.” he purred, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and then your lips with languid reverence. His hands tangled in your hair, brushing it away from your sticky brow so he could kiss there too. “So, what do you say? Did I prove myself worthy of you?”

You kissed him back, savoring the sweet taste of his lips, giggling when his mustache tickled your nose. “Perhaps…” you mused coyly, splaying your palms over his broad chest, drawing little circles with your finger. Ignoring the butthurt look on his face, you followed the treasure trail of dark hair to his human tummy, following it with your eyes where your hands couldn’t reach down his equine keel towards his messy middle. “But first, you’re going to need another bath.”

Pero followed your gaze to the ridiculous amount of cum oozing over his belly, the string of it dangling from his cock catching the light as he laughed. “That is all I must do to earn your love now, cara mia?”

“Yeah ok, sure.”

He beamed with pride, excitement dawning on him like the new day. “Then I will be the cleanest centaur you have ever laid eyes upon!” He kicked his legs until he was on his hooves with you in his arms, trotting eagerly towards the water.

“Hey! Put me down!”

“No, hermosa, you must now earn my love in the same way!” Wind rushed around you as Pero full on galloped back to the stream, charging headlong into the icy water and chucking you in as well. You surfaced quickly and threw water at him, cursing up a storm for being subjected to the freeze again, though all your anger was false. “See? Now we can both be clean, and I will also get to be brushed again!”

The townspeople speak of a woman.

They’ve known her since she was a girl, but something about her always seemed off. Not wrong, just… off. She’s pretty yet unwed, works hard and keeps her farm running smoothly by herself.

Or, at least she used to.

She wears a ring on her finger, though no one has ever seen her husband. Some people say he is a great horseman, and takes his steed out into the woods to hunt, or ride to far away lands; which must be why no one has ever seen him. The villagers know he must live there though, as the woman buys more than enough food for two when she comes to market, bringing vegetables and hides to trade. Some have seen her riding with her husband on a very strange horse, though no one has gotten close enough to see why the horse appears to be missing it’s head.

She does well for herself, and she is healthy, happy, and loved; by a recluse, but loved nonetheless. It’s easy to tell by the smile on her face, the song in her heart, and the way her hair has been lovingly brushed every single day.

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