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#I get that it was that He-Man style era but come on
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I LOVED UR SUKUNA HEADCANONS. I know you said he falls hard and takes time to accept his own feelings BUT do you think he would court the person he's interested in? like heian era style and all? I also think it's very nice you added the part where he writes poetry and that he'd use his skills to gift things to someone he loves. I think a lot of people forget he's also a poetry lover and poet himself.
Haha, I'm not taking 50 million years to answer an ask this time yeeey - AHEM.
AAA I'm so happy you liked them dude (gender!neutral).
Ok! Romantic Sukuna x Reader talk. So for those that don't wanna see this, just scroll past and have a lovely day/night/noon! 🫶🏽
Oh, ABSOLUTELY he'd court the person he likes! Although, when he'd court you, I feel like it would be with gestures or things that are small and actually MEANINGFUL to you - something that shows you he CARES and how much more beautiful you make his world. Oh, like, you know...things he doesn't realize can be considered courting cuz DENIAL 😀👍🏽
(At least it can be seen like that for someone with his status as a feared god, anyways.)
Like cooking for both you and him (and my LORD is his cooking GODLY tho - right up there with Uraume) more often, encouraging you when you're feeling down/upset (but in a cold and stern way that's, ehh...not very comforting tbh), making off hand compliments, letting you touch him in nonsexual ways, getting protective around you with other ppl, gifts that remind him of you AND are valuable to you, and other things like that.
If you're lucky enough to come across his sketchbook or his journal of failed poetry - you'll find half finished sketches and paintings of you, and unfinished poems about you there; comparing you to things like the refreshing sight of spring after winter, the warmth of gentle sunlight at dawn, the comfort of a well cooked meal. All of them unfinished because he failed to capture how he sees you, or how you make him feel. MANS IS WHIPPED. Don't test your luck going thru his stuff tho, homie (gender!neutral).
Ugh I could go ONNNN about this - maybe I should write a fic instead????
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CARRYING YOU WHEN YOU'RE TIRED ASKFDKLSK- 😩😩😩😩😩
Ok that part is super OOC - even for a Sukuna x Reader but, ya know, we can dream LMAO.
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armandfucker · 10 hours
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IWTV FICS I READ THIS MONTH
- two on the road and one at the resurrection by gaypiratedivorce ‘After a month in Dubai, Daniel Molloy is back home and miraculously alive, eager to get to work on his first draft. The vampire Armand has other plans.’
This was so good I read it instead of sleeping for 2 nights. Old man Daniel!!!! My guy!! Perfect old Daniel/Armand fic. Also loved the writing style.
- Truth and Reconcilliation by GrayGiantess. ‘Armand moved through the dark of the penthouse feeling like a ghost.
The interview was over. And Louis was gone.
Daniel was still there – a small miracle – but Armand had been avoiding him, afraid he would leave too.
In which Armand and Daniel have an important and somewhat overdue conversation about the past and the future.’
Another old man Daniel/Armand. It’s my favourite thing atm. I’m re reading it right now.
Sequel to this:
- Cheerful Oblivion by vitamin_kay ‘Louis de Pointe du Lac, the wealthy successor to America's largest liquor distributor, stuns the public by pleading guilty to the murder of his own brother, Paul. As investigators scramble to uncover the motive behind this heinous act, Louis remains tight-lipped, offering no answers to questions that surround the case. Will Louis serve his sentence in peace and repay his debt to society, or will his enigmatic cell mates help him embrace the monster that is memory and fight for his freedom?’
Lestat/Louis, SO MUCH ANGST THIS KILLED ME. Loved the background characters so much.
-Remembrance by bandedbulbussnarfblat ‘AU of season 1 where Daniel remembers the devil's minion era.’
In my notes I wrote HEAVY FUCKING ANGST. IIRC this one includes Daniel almost killing himself from an overdose and Armand taking his memories.
Anyway come and talk to me about these fics!!!! I’m loving all the amazing writing- we are being BLESSED
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dykeinthedark · 1 month
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venting in tags about gender n shit (long as hell) (u can comment and talk 2 me as always :3)
#okay so i got a really masc haircut about a month ago and i know it's just a haircut but holy shit has it changed EVERYTHING for me#like.... i've always leaned masc except 1) before i came out 2) when i was actively in love with someone who i knew liked femmes#and they always described me as a fem. because that's what i showed her. because i wanted to be with her.#but lowkey whenever i'm in a not-impressing-anyone raw-dogging-life-no-crush era i always resort to a very masc style#like masc being my default and i'd only lean fem to impress people whether it's for love or peer pressure in a specific setting#like ''dressing up'' has always been a form of drag to me. like something i HAD to do to fit in or impress my parents (scott favor core)#but ever since this haircut i've realized... i could just BE masc innately like i really don't have to be womanly if i don't want to#which i usually don't. again i have only ever dressed fem for other people. but it's not even being masc that attracts me on its own#it's like. being masc in a distinctly lesbian way. as in whenever i look in the mirror i don't wanna be like a Guy i wanna be a dyke.#like lesbian as a gender identity too sort of thing honestly. okay i've been waffling but basically i sort of want to call myself butch#but i don't know if i like... can?? if i'm allowed to???#everyone always says it's MORE than just wearing boy clothes and not wearing makeup and having short hair (which i already do all those)#i mean i've always id'd as genderqueer because it literally just means gender weird and i experience gender in a queer way#what's probably the most telling is that my friends (all queer) CALL me a butch lesbian#like every time they do i feel really internally validated. it's not just my clothes but my personality too ig is what people tell me#i have a higher pitched voice relatively speaking but apparently the way i talk is quote ''very clockably into women''#which?? gender euphoria asf. my best friend specifically he (gay trans guy) always uses butch to describe me very intuitively#people have also noticed that i ''transitioned'' in all aspects except hormonally. like ppl have commented and noticed my masculinzation#but at the same time i always feel rly haunted by my ex relationships because one wanted me to be more masc#(she's the one who came out as straight and would treat me like a man) which i didn't like and i didn't like playing up being fem either#bc now it feels like she (butch) won't believe me if i called myself butch too bc she remembers me being femme#idk i feel like there's her voice in my head all the time that sees everything i do through her eyes (i'm lowkey still in love)#i feel like even though this comes so naturally to me i must be putting on a performance#even though i've actually read stone butch blues and done research into the history and i truly love and id with the culture like i rly do#that im still just a sad imitation of a butch lesbian and can never really be a part of it because i used to enjoy dressing up sometimes#like it's so stupid but can i still be butch if i wore a dress to prom and i think i looked good in it??#even though i was envious of my friends who wore suits?? that i used to try goth makeup?? that i liked long dresses??#that i enjoyed stacked necklaces and rings on every finger???#and tbh ALL OF THAT CAME FROM A CONCIOUS EFFORT TO FEMINIZE MYSELF IN JUNIOR YEAR OF HIGHSCHOOL WHEN I WAS 16#because omfg it was 2 months before junior prom and i was worried that i was too masc and wanted to get comfortable with being fem
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Love getting into reading comics after years away and remembering that people used to draw in the most butt fucking ugly way you can imagine.
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joelsgreys · 2 months
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fall into temptation | three
Post Outbreak Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter! Reader
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series masterlist l previous chapter
summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.
word count: 10k
a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.
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Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”
“What’s she doing holding his hand?”
“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”
Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.
His shoulders were squared back, his head held high. 
Solid. Steady.
Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?
Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.
It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter. 
His youngest daughter. 
Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.
“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”
“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”
“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”
“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”
Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.
Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.
Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.
“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”
“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”
Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.
“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”
It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.
The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.
Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”
Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”
Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.
“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”
Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.
If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.
Not after Joel Miller was through with him.
Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.
Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?
“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”
Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”
“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”
Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”
You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.
“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”
Behind you, Joel stood silent and still. 
Watching. Observing. Waiting.
He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.
“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.
He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”
Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit. 
It caused something inside of you to finally give way.
Snap.
The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”
For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.
“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”
It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.
It was your father.
Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.
Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.
Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.
“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”
Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”
That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”
“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.
Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.
“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”
Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.
“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”
Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”
His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.
“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”
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The first thing he did was light the fireplace.
“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”
“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.
Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”
“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”
“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock, right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”
Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.
“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”
You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.��
“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”
“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”
Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”
His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”
“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.
Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”
Of course not.
You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none. 
Still. 
The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.
Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.
Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.
No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.
He wouldn’t believe them.
“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”
Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”
The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation. 
There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”
No. That’s not what you wanted.
You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him. 
But that freedom came with a high, high price.
You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?
“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.
“What?”
“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”
Confused, all you could do was stare at him.
“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”
Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.
“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”
“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”
His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”
“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.
He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”
Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”
“What is it, darlin’ girl?”
“Kiss me. Please.”
With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.
You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.
“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”
“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”
“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”
You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?
“You’re not taking advantage of me.”
“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”
“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”
His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.
“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”
Christ.
No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.
With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.
“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.
Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”
Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”
All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.
With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.
Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”
Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”
His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.
Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.
With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.
Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.
You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.
Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.
“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.
Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.
“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.
“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.
“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.
“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”
Yours.
Yours, yours, yours.
Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”
“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”
“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”
Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.
Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”
You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.
“Yeah? Y’trust me?”
Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”
Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.
“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”
Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told. 
He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”
With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.
“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.
You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.
Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.
“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”
Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”
Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.
“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”
You whimpered. “Yes.”
“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, please.”
Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”
Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.
“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”
“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.
Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.
Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.
You opened wider. “Please.”
“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.
“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”
Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.
Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?
“Oh God.”
You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.
Not when something this sinful was being done to you.
Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.
“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”
Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.
Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.
Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.
Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs. 
Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.
Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”
Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”
He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.
If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.
The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.
Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”
“Okay.”
“I’ve got you,” he promised.
You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”
Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.
“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.
“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”
Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.
He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.
Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”
Surely, you would be the death of him.
He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?
There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.
“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”
And you did.
Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.
“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.
“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”
You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.
Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”
“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”
With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”
“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.
It was the second time you’d uttered His name.
Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.
“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.
He was getting closer and closer.
Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.
“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”
No way he could live his life without you now.
He needed you.
He needed you so much more than you needed him.
Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.
“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.
His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”
Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.
He was begging you.
Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?
“Joel,” you choked.
“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”
Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”
A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.  
Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.
“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.
Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”
He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”
Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.
Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”
Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.
Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.
“Baby?”
“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.
“Did you mean what you said?”
“Mean what, Joel?”
There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”
Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”
“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.
“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”
“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”
“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”
You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.
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The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.
Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.
The nerves began to set in.
Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.
With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.
He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.
You could have laughed. You almost did.
“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”
“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”
“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.
His chest swelled with warmth.
Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.
He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”
“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”
He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you were underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.
“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”
He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.
He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”
Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.
I’ve got you.
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divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍
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starkwlkr · 8 months
Note
Hi. Love your fics!!! Could you do a Charles + Ruby one where Y/N is a singer and they go to one of her concerts or a big performance like her Super Bowl halftime show or something? Thank you!❤️
mommy’s biggest fans | charles leclerc
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y/n is in her harry styles fifteen nights at msg era 🫶🏼 so for this imagine we are doing her final night at msg or the kia forum or whichever arena you’d like
also taylor is going to be the faceclaim this time because why not 🙃 also kelly mention but only because p is the cutest kid 🥲
“We are getting ready for my wife’s concert tonight,” Charles spoke to the camera. He decided that Y/n’s last concert would be a great place to make a vlog. He looked at his phone. “It is four thirty and the kids are not ready. Ruby is watching Bluey.”
“And Bingo! Don’t forget Bingo!” Ruby said as she munched on her fruit snacks while seated on the bed.
“Right, Bingo too. All of the family is coming and so are our friends. Maman and Théo are having a nap, but soon we’ll have to go to the arena to see my wife perform, isn’t that exciting, Ruby?” Charles asked the girl.
“She’s going to sing my favorite song, she told me.”
“What’s your favorite song?” Charles asked.
“All of them, duh!”
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“How are you feeling?” The camera was pointed at Y/n, who was getting her makeup done for her show. Charles and the kids had arrived so they spent their time in Y/n’s dressing room until the show began. Y/n’s dressing room changed over the years. First, it was filled with makeup and dresses and lots of food for before and after the show. Now, it had a stroller, toys and diaper bags.
“I am so happy. My family and friends are here. I’m so glad all of the nights have been sold out.” Y/n smiled.
“And do you have any surprises for tonight?”
“I have some. . .”
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Ruby was escorted to her seat along with the Leclerc family and their friends. As the show began, the lights changed which caused Ruby to scream as loud as she could. She had been to many of her mother’s shows before, but she always had the same reaction.
Y/n started singing and so did Ruby and Mathéo. They knew all of her songs even the unreleased ones. Towards the middle of the show, a man apart of Y/n’s security team whispered something into Charles’ ear then walked with him to the side stage. Ruby was the only one who noticed as her family and friends danced and sang along.
“So this is the part of the show where I usually have some big surprise. And I do have one, but I just want to take the time to thank all of you for being here, for singing these songs, dancing, making friendship bracelets, dressing up. I love you all and I hope you love this next duet.” Y/n said. She smiled as the crowd erupted into cheers.
She walked further down the stage to her piano. The fans immediately thought she would be the one to play the piano, but they were mistaken since Charles had made his way to the piano with the biggest smile on his face.
As Charles sat on the piano bench, Y/n spoke again to the crowd. “Ladies, gentlemen, friends. I am very happy to introduce you to the man that makes me the happiest woman on earth, my husband, my muse, Mr. Charles Leclerc!” Y/n clapped as the crowd cheered for Charles, who got shy by the love he was receiving. “and also the father of my two kids, just had to add that.” She chuckled.
“Hello.” Charles spoke into the microphone which caused more cheers.
“They love you,” Y/n teased as she looked back to Charles. “So Charles and I talked and we had a hard time trying to pick which song to play together. We didn’t know if we wanted to do a cover or one of my songs and finally we decided why not play a new song.”
As Charles played a bit with the keys, Y/n looked back once again to him just to make sure he was alright. She then nodded at him so they could start.
Moon, a hole of light
Through the big top tent up high
Here before and after me
After the duet, Charles whispered an ‘I love you’ to his wife, which she returned. As the show went on, Y/n would often walk to the section that her family was in and blew them a kiss.
Y/n knew that most drivers on the F1 grid were going to attended, one of them being Sebastian with his wife and kids. She remembered Charles mentioning that it was Sebastian and Hanna’s wedding anniversary so she knew that she just had to sing a love song to them.
“This next song is dedicated to two special people who are celebrating their anniversary today. Seb, Hanna, congratulations and you know I will always love you and your family.” Y/n smiled at the Vettel family who were next to hers.
We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January
And this is our place, we make the rules
f1wagsupdates has added to their story // lilymhe has added to their story
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After the show ended, Y/n couldn’t believe she had just played fifteen nights straight. She loved performing, but what she loved the most was her family and her family needed her more than ever. She was finally coming home to her babies and Charles.
When she got backstage, she immediately started asking for her family. A stage manager had told her they were on their way backstage. When she spotted the kids, she ran up to them and hugged them.
“Maman! You sang my favorite song! And then papa played the piano with you! I waved at you but I don’t know if you saw me. I was with uncle Thur and Théo was with uncle Enzo. We sang so loud, could you hear us?” Ruby asked her mother.
“I did. You both sang so beautifully.” Y/n told her babies. They walked together to her dressing room where the rest of her family and friends were waiting.
“Ma fille! You did amazing as always! And that duet with Charles! You two know how to make a grown woman cry.” Pascale gave a hug to her daughter in law.
“Thank you for being here.” Y/n wiped away a couple of tears.
“You know I’ll always be there for you no matter what.”
After greeting and thanking everyone for coming, she finally got some alone time with Charles. He had surprised her with a giant bouquet of flowers and a cake to celebrate the end of tour. Charles sat on the sofa in her dressing room as Y/n was taking off her makeup in front of the vanity.
“When do you think you’ll be back on tour? I know you just finished.” Charles asked.
“I’m not sure. I don’t want to retire from the music industry. I want to be home with the kids, be able to help them with homework, make cakes for their birthdays, I would give anything just to be able to walk them to school.” Y/n explained. She began to feel emotional so she stood up and paced around the room in her white robe.
“I know, and you’re finally going to be able to do that, Mon amour. The kids are going to have their maman home.”
“I love you, I love you so so much.” Y/n said.
“I love you more.”
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y/nleclerc i will miss all these special moments we made during tour. thank you to everyone who came, everyone who helped. THANK YOU! thank you for singing, dancing, trading friendship bracelets and most of all, thank you for making me feel loved! I’m going to go away for some time so in the mean time, take care of each other and I will see you soon ❤️
love, y/n.
carmenmmundt you are incredible ✨
francisca.cgomes I CRIED DURING CORNELIA STREET
pierregasly can confirm
kellypiquet P and I had the best time! Thank you for inviting us!
susie_wolff amazing as always!
carla.brocker THE music industry 🫶🏼
charles_leclerc i love you forever and always
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charles_leclerc congratulations on everything, mon amour. the kids and i are always proud of you. y/nleclerc
ferraridepressionclub i wish i didn’t know how to read 😭
wolff_toto_ sleeping on the highway tonight
roscoesacutalmom i was there and the way y/n’s eye lit up everytime she saw Charles or their kids 😭
y/nscardigan the speech she gave after the concert 🥲
leclercstype what did she say? the livestream i was watching was lagging 😭
y/nscardigan basically she thanked the fans and she also thanked her family for being so supportive and then she apologized to her kids for being away for so long but she said ‘now maman is coming home’ 😭 which made me cry even more
y/nleclerc I’m not even mad you picked these. Come back to bed, the kids and I miss you.
charles_leclerc on my way 😘
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girlkisser13 · 1 month
Text
dating jason grace would include
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• ugh, the chivalry radiating off this man is CRAZYY.
• jason is the epitome of a gentleman fr!! he’ll do little things like holding open doors for you (even if it means waiting a few extra moments), offering his sweater when you're cold without hesitation, or fixing up a plate for you during dinner, he's always trying to make life a little easier for you. <33
• if you so much as utter a complaint about your feet aching or your shoes being too uncomfortable, he's already kneeling down, his broad back facing you with his hands gesturing for you to climb on for a piggy-back ride. he’ll be running around camp like a lunatic, carrying you on his back or in his arms, but he doesn't care because he always puts your comfort and safety first!!
• his protective nature extends to the battlefield as well. even though he knows you're more than capable of defending yourself, he fights alongside you, ready to shield you from ANY harm.
• whenever you talk to jason, he always has a way of letting you know that he's listening to your every word. even if he's occupied with something else, he'll make a point to let you know that he is paying attention to you. he'll immediately direct his gaze towards you, and abandon whatever task he was previously engaged in, leaning in closer to you the longer you speak.
• even if you try to cut your story short or apologize for repeating yourself, jason will NEVER rush you or make you feel uncomfortable. instead, he'll hold you close with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, encouraging you to keep talking and sharing your thoughts. because jason doesn't mind hearing the same stories over and over again, as long as they're coming from you. <33
• you know that one tiktok trend where one person tries to switch foods/drinks with their partner? yeah if you ask him he will not hesitate to switch with you. he also shares his food with you with no complaints.
• but he also knows you well enough to get you something to eat even if you say you don’t want anything or that say that you’re not hungry.
• jason never fails to express his love for you verbally every day, but he also has a way of communicating it without speaking a word. he'll naturally reaches for your hand under the table, stealing quick kisses on your shoulder when no one is watching. even the way he touches you lingers, like he doesn't want to let go.
• jason lovess resting his forehead against yours. it just brings him a sense of comfort and solace, really just your presence itself makes him feel safe. <33
• he most definitely places kisses on your hand. i'm talking regency era jane austen style kisses to your fingertips or palm, looking away with a visible blush.
• i feel like he radiates a mixture of golden retriever boyfriend and orange cat boyfriend.
• he is pretty romantic and enjoys meticulously planning dates for you both, such as movie dates, picnics, hiking, and more.
• one of his love languages is acts of service. whether it's helping you with chores, surprising you with breakfast in bed, or offering a shoulder to lean on when you’re having a bad day, he's always there to support them in any way he can.
• he’s 100% a morning person (due to his militaristic upbringing at camp jupiter). if you’re also a morning person, the two of you enjoy going on morning jogs together. if you’re not a morning person, he’ll spend hours admiring you when you’re sleeping (not in a creepy or weird way lmao).
• he’s a big reader but sticks with audiobooks (due to his dyslexia) and will read every single book that you read so that he can talk with you about them.
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lxkeee · 4 months
Note
Helloo, I was wondering if it was alright for u to write a lucifer x male reader where the reader is also a powerful demon and goes with lucifer to visit Charlie in the dad beat dad episode, and Charlie is just like OMG i have two dads now, this is awesome
if u don't write for male reader, then feel free to change or ignore this lol
MY GAYDAR IS NEVER WRONG!
—Lucifer Morningstar x m! Reader
warnings: mentions of s*icide.
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When Charlie called Lucifer, he was excited that his daughter wanted to invite him to see the hotel. He thought he would be able to handle it.
In fact, he did not.
The poor man had a complete mental breakdown as he over thought what would happen, how would he act around his daughter, what should he say, and etc.
So, he decided to ask for help and he just knows the right person for that.
His beloved boyfriend of one year, [y/n].
Backstory time,
Lucifer has been seeing and secretly dating the man for a year already, it took a while but he got charmed okay? [Y/n] is literally so charming, very handsome, very chivalrous.... And very tall...
And is a pianist.
Lucifer met [y/n] in a famous restaurant, that only elites or the rich can enter. [Y/n] so happens to own that restaurant.
The only reason he was there at that time was because the other seven deadly sins wanted to have a get together.
As the dinner with the other seven deadly sins progressed, Lucifer was enamored the whole night, his eyes staring at the tall and graceful man sitting in the middle of the restaurant as he played the piano for the guests so beautifully.
Asmodeus even teased him, making the king of hell blush.
That's where his frequent visit to the restaurant started.
Lucifer claims that he just wanted to listen to the man play and nothing else.
Of course, [y/n] noticed his frequent visits and decided to approach the smaller man.
Of course, Lucifer was cautious.
Lucifer was suspicious why the man looked more humane than others, aside from his sharp teeth.
Eventually, the two slowly got along and then slowly developed romantic feelings for each other.
They started telling each other their stories too.
Lucifer found out [y/n] was a pianist when he was still alive, he was born in the 1920's and died in 1945.
[Y/n] died as passionless artist, who lost his inspiration and will to live.
But despite all that, [y/n] managed to find his passion for music again in hell and despite the era he was born in, he managed to go with the flow of time.
Yes, he knows gen z slang 😭
He's got serious problems when it comes to saying "lmao" "purr" and "slay"
Anyways, after finding out and realizing why [y/n] is here is because the sin he committed is that he didn't appreciate the life was given to him and decided to take it away by his own hands.
Lucifer's caution around the man was gone and maybe, not all sinners are bad.
[y/n] confessed first and Lucifer reciprocated by giving the taller man a kiss (he had to pull down [y/n]'s tie okay?)
And Lucifer didn't regret it, [y/n] is a passionate lover. A green flag of all green flags.
“Why are you here? You're so nice, you shouldn't be here.”
“If I was up there, then I wouldn't have the pleasure of meeting you and calling you mine.” [y/n] said with a confused tone.
Unaware rizz.
This man, doesn't know how much his words affect Lucifer.
And the fact he can carry Lucifer bridal style and calls him his muse is the cherry on top.
Anyways, back to the scenario. I'm done with the backstory lmao
Lucifer decided to text [y/n] telling him about the situation, wanting emotional support as he's nervous going to an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people.
He thought [y/n] wouldn't be able to come as the man got work but he was wrong as not 15 minutes later, [y/n] bursts through the door looking absolutely disheveled.
[y/n] ran like his life depended on it.
“My muse, I am hereeee...” the poor tall man wheezed out, hunched on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.
Lucifer had to help the man out by using his wings to dry him up.
“Better?”
“Better, thanks my love.”
Lucifer had to explain the situation to him on the way to the hotel and [y/n] giving him peptalk after.
After arriving at the hotel, [y/n] stayed at the side while he watched Lucifer interact with the others.
He swore he heard the pink arachnid say, “Is anyone's gaydar going off right now?”
“It's just you, Angel.” the gray haired girl says with a deadpan.
After Charlie introduced the rest, she noticed the taller male companion who came with her dad. The male was just admiring the interior of the hotel.
Tall, dark, and handsome.
“So... Dad, how about you introduce me to your friend that you brought over?” Charlie asked, making the two males flinch in surprise.
[y/n] giggling as he watched the flustered look on Lucifer's face.
The two males just looked at each other, having a silent conversation.
“Do you want to tell her?” is what [y/n]'s facial expression says based on the raised eyebrow.
“I guess it's time to tell her.” Lucifer says through his facial expression, as a sigh left his lips.
The others just stared in silence as the two males looked at each other in silent conversation.
“Charlie, this is [y/n]... My... Significant other.”
After Lucifer introduced the unknown man, Charlie's jaw dropped.
So did the other's.
The only thing Charlie can think is “Holy shit, I'll have two dads.”
“SEE?! I FUCKING TOLD YOU THAT MY GAYDAR IS POPPING OFF SINCE THEY ARRIVED”
It was a wild night. From the dad off, some loan sharks deciding to cause a mess. (Charlie has three dads now)
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Do you guys want this as a series? I'm thinking of actually writing this concept because aihsjans it's so cutee and interesting 😭🤭
Also, I absolutely write for male readers as I myself is a man 🤭 aosjsi maybe I should write more Lucifer x male! Reader?
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harrysfolklore · 7 months
Note
Can we get y/n as a total book worm and Harry just finding it so adorable, like no matter what she’s doing she always has a book in her hands. Cooking, has a book. Backstage, reading a book. At a cafe for breakfast, reading a book.
Ofc you don’t have tot do this idea, it’s just an idea
here it is !! one of my favorite tropes i’ve done coming to tumblr <3
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
coffeeandbookss - yn’s bookstagram
yourinstagram- yn’s personal insta
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liked by emmachamberlain, gemmastyles and 15,937 others
coffeeandbookss Now reading: My policeman by Bethan Roberts ! In 1957, we meet Marion, a young woman hopelessly in love with Tom, her best friend’s brother. Tom — training to become a policeman — returns her affections, but holds a secret of his own. Will let you know my full review once done ! 💙
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bookfan1 just added it to my list !
bookfan2 i love everything you recommend
bookfan3 started it this week !
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liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 3,938 others
harryupdates Harry just followed this account on instagram !
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harryfan1 harry on his bookstagram era
harryfan2 AHH ONE OF MY FAVE BOOK CREATORS
harryfan3 she’s so pretty also
harryfan4 IM SUBSCRIBED TO HER YOUTUBE CHANNEL shes soooo good
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liked by yoursister, gemmastyles and 1,937 others
yourinstagram um harry styles follows mt bookstagram?? am i dreaming?
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yoursister YOU LUCKY BITCH
gemmastyles I’d love to think I’m responsible for that, I kept talking about your account 🫣
↳ yourinstagram love you gem thanks for your constant support 💓
username1 you’re the best out there
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liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 3,986 others
harryupdates Harry in London today ! He carried this book with himself
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harryfan1 he’s really in his books era
harryfan2 i started that book the other week omg
harryfan3 omw to buy it
harryfan4 my favorite booktuber just recommended this omg
DMS BETWEEN HARRY AND YN
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liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 4,937 others
harryupdates Harry having dinner tonight !
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harryfan1 OHHH
harryfan2 is that a DATE
harryfan3 boyfriendrry?
harryfan4 respect his privacy
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liked by harrystyles, gemmastyles and 10,872 others
yourinstagram happy days :)
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harryfan1 um why did harry like?
gemmastyles my babies 🥹
↳ harryfan2 hello are we missing something
harrystyles ❤️
↳ harryfan2 HELLO?
harryfan4 i’m so confused right now
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liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 201,928 others
tmz_tv Seems like Harry Styles got a new girl. More of his beach outing at the link in our bio 👀
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harryfan1 wtffff
harryfan2 WHO IS THAT
harryfan3 man i hate tmz
harryfan4 FIND OUT WHO THE GIRL IS RIGHT NOW
↳ harryfan1 i think their privacy was disturbed enough already
↳ harryfan2 yeah we’re shouldn’t snoop around trying to dig personal information of whoever the girl with him is
harryfan6 sucks as hell that they took these without their consent but i can’t help but be all 🥲🥲 over the fact that they’re reading together
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liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 4,029 others
theharrytea okay yall so i was watching yn’s latest video because of all the rumors going around her and harry (yk he followed her and commented on her posts and harry has been seen with someone we don’t know yet) AND i swear to god i heard his voice around min 7 😭 you could clearly hear that someone opens the door and a faint “sorry” I KNOW MY MAN’S VOICE AND THAT WAS HIS
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harryfan1 OH
harryfan2 omfg i can hear it now
harryfan3 y’all are tripping at this point
harryfan4 delulu
harryfan5 idk if any of this is true but they would make a cute couple like they would ready to each other and stuff :(
YN VIA INSTAGRAM STORIES
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liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 107,837 others
coffeeandbookss This week’s recommendation is presented by my brand new reading partner ! Love is a Mixtape is a soulful book, written as a way of understanding not only love and loss, but also the way music is can get us through those happy or sad times ! Full review this weekend 🤍
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bookfan1 IS THAT HARRY STYLES ??
annetwist ❤️❤️
harryfan1 HARRYYYYY
harryfan2 THEY ARE SOOO DATING
harrystyles It is my pleasure to be featured x
↳ harryfan3 OMFG THEY FR ARE DATING
gemmastyles 🥹
harryfan4 I MEAN we kinda already knew it was her who has seen kissing harry BUT I LOVE THIS HARD LAUNCH
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liked by yourinstagram, gemmastyles and 6,837,927 others
harrystyles She’s got a book for every situation x
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harryfan1 AHHH IS THIS YN
jefezoff 🙌🏻🙌🏻
harryfan2 LOVE ME A HARD LAUNCH
gemmastyles ❤️
harryfan3 harry is not single anymore omfg
yourinstagram 🥹💓
harryfan4 COUPLE OF THE YEAR
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liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 27,947 others
harryismysun Worth the shot
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harryfan1 PLEASEEEEE
harryfan2 you're so funny
harryfan3 i love this fandom
yourinstagram 😂😂 I can confirm this is how it all went down
↳ harryfan1 I LOVE HER
↳ harryfan2 she's the best
taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin n @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry
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thealtoduck · 4 months
Text
Forbidden Fruit
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Theon Greyjoy x Male Reader
Warnings: Smut, Theon in his asshole era, anal sex, loss of virginity, doggy style, use of the word ”whore”, use of the word ”maiden” for a virgin man because it’s a thing in the GoT/Asoiaf, Theon referring to your ass as a ”cunt”, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding, spit as lube, everyone kinda wants to fuck you too…
Summary: Theon has his eyes set on you and wants to be your first…
——
The sounds swords clanging against each other rang out over the courtyard of Winterfell as Theon Greyjoy and Robb Stark practised their swordfighting. Both of them in full focus on the task of beating the others.
Theon was just about to land a winning strike when someone behind Robb distracted him, stealing his focus. A beautiful young man, Y/n Poole, the son of the steward of Winterfell. Theon was distracted just long enough for Robb to be able to knock him to the ground.
”Come on Theon, keep your eyes on your opponent” Robb said annoyed and turned to see what Theon had been looking at, his eyes landing on you. ”Y/n, the steward’s son?” Robb questioned his friend. ”I’ve heard one of the chefs claim he took his virginity but he was drunk so i think he might have lied” Robb gossiped as he continued looking at you.
”I wouldn’t mind fucking him myself” he then said to the annoyance of Theon. ”Oh please, is the little lord Robb Stark gonna fuck the steward’s son?” Theon mocked him. ”He needs someone to take his boy cunt like the little whore he is” Theon said looking hungrily towards you as you were talking to a couple of castle guards.
”And that’s going to be you?” Robb questioned sarcastically. But Theon wasn’t listening he was already planning.
——
That night during dinner…
Theon watched you as you sat next to Jon, chatting cheerfully. Theon needed to catch you alone. Luckily for him he’d get his shot soon… You were also sat next to Sansa Stark which put you in the crossfire between her and her sister Arya’s never ending war.
Arya loaded her spoon with a piece of meat pie and launched it towards Sansa… but she missed hitting your chest, dirtying your light grey tunic. ”Arya! Look what you did?!” Sansa scolded her younger sister. ”I’m so sorry about her” Sansa apologised frantically as she tried to wipe of your shirt with a cloth napkin.
”Don’t worry about it Lady Sansa, i’ll just go change” you said calmly, standing up from the table and walking off. Theon saw this was his chance to finally meet you alone.
He soon managed to sneak away from the the dining hall. He stopped by the kitchens and snagged two goblets and a pitcher of wine, then he made his way through Winterfell castle towards the small part occupied by Steward of Winterfell and his family.
He knocked on the door he knew belonged to you. ”One moment” came your voice from the inside. Then the door opened revealing you in a nightshirt and underwear, you quickly wrapped yourself in a thin blue robe to cover up more for you’re unexpected visitor.
”Theon” you said happily at sight of him. ”Sorry, i’m not more properly dressed i was just about to go to bed” you said tying your robe. ”Oh no worries” he said with a flirty smile, you were gonna be even less dressed once he was done with you.
”How can i help you?” you asked. ”Oh, i just wondered if you’d like to have quick drink with me” he said holding up the pitcher and the two goblets he brought. You looked unsure. ”If your not too tired of course” he quickly added.
”Of course, a drink wouldn’t hurt” you said and held open the door for him, letting him in to your bed chamber. Theon observed the room, it was smaller than his own. It had a small square window with a nice view. A little fire place where a fire was burning, heating up the cold castle room.
A square table with a set of two chairs and a clothing chest right next to it. And finally the bed, which was draped in soft blankets. Above it hung a banner for your House, House Poole. The room was textbook definition of what Theon would describe as cozy.
You sat down in one of the chairs by the table, as Theon put the goblets on the table, pouring wine in each and then putting the pitcher down. He sat down in the other chair, you both grabbed your goblets. ”Cheers” Theon said and you clinked your goblets together and drank.
The two of you talked for a while. Theon decided to start testing the waters. He moved his leg slightly making it rest against yours, your eyes drifted to his leg for half a second before you looked back to him but you didn’t move away.
Time passed as you told Theon a story, once you finished it became quiet through the chamber. ”You’re really pretty you know” Theon stated boldly filling the silence in the room. Before you had time to respond Theon started talking ”Some of the staff has been talking about it, how they want to fuck you. Even the lordling Robb Stark said so”.
”And i understand them, you are very pretty” he continued. You looked rather unsure what to answer. ”Tell me Y/n, have you ever been fucked before?” Theon asked shamelessly, leaning closer to you. ”I… no, i have not” you told him, trying to stay casual.
”Would you like to be?” Theon then asked immodestly, leaving you slightly stunned. ”By-…By you?” you asked, Theon gave you a smirk as comformation. ”I-I wouldn’t know what to do” you said shyly. Theon played with the strings of your night shirt and said ”Don’t worry, i’ll show you”.
He then pulled you in to a kiss, his lips pushing hungrily against yours. Theon pulled you both up from your seats leading you to the middle of the room as you made out. Theon pulled of your robe, then his own jacket and he continued until you were both left naked in front of each other.
Your dick had gotten erected from Theon’s sudden interest in you and it made Theon’s own manhood swell with pride. He took your wrist in his hand and guided your hand over his slightly fuzzy chest down to his erect manhood. It was the first time you had ever touched another man in such a manner.
He made you enclose your fingers around his hardend cock and tug at it a little, rubbing him off slowly. ”Feel what you do to me Y/n” he uttered.
He led you backwards towards your beds and your naked bodies climbed up on it. Theon laid you down on the bed and the two of you passionately made out. Theon moved his hands to you ass and let his fingers graze against your hole.
You were unfamiliar with his action as you had never experienced it before but let Theon continue. He slowly started pushing his finger inside you, making you audibly gasp against his lips at the feeling of being streched out. ”That’s right relax” Theon instructed.
Once he added next finger he did it more hastily, making you yelp quietly. Theon let out a small chuckle ”Such a warm nice cunt for me to fuck” Theon said before shoving in a third finger.
Theon then stood up on his knees, he grabbed you and positioned you on all fours, ass spread out in front of him. He spit in to his own hand rubbing it on his manhood. ”I’m gonna take you like a real lord would” Theon said which you wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a warning.
Theon didn’t waste any time and started pushing his rockhard cock inside your virgin hole, making you groan, feeling yourself be filled. ”Fuck your tight around my cock” Theon said pleasureably sheathing himself fully inside you.
Before you had time to adjust he snapped his hips forwards thrusting into you making you release a small cry. ”Was this what he had meant? Was this how lords fucked their wives?” you thought to yourself.
Theon grabbed your hips and started setting a pace a his hips thrust against your ass. His raw cock forcing your walls to stretch, you released several whines as Theon roughly plowed in to you. ”Fuck Theon, you’re so big” you said through your pained but pleasured moans.
Theon grabbed your head as he pounded your ass saying ”What would your steward father say? Seeing his son deflowered by Eddard’s Stark ward like some common whore”. As he thrusted as hard in to you as his body would let him.
”Maybe i should go get him after this and make him come look at his son’s cum stained body” Theon said cockily. You however couldn’t answer him as you had your face pressed against the matress moaning endlessly from the ecstasy of Theon’s cock fucking you.
”Maybe i should start coming by every night and make good use of your cunt and fill you with my seed” he suggested, his thrusts rocking your bed back and forth. ”Shame you can’t have my bastards” he added.
From the endless groans to the creaking bed, you hoped no one could hear you getting your virginity fucked out of you by Theon. You felt your own cock twitching getting close to your orgasm. ”I’m gonna cum” you moaned. And soon after your load dripped down on the sheets below.
Theon kept plowing in to you for several minutes, claiming your ass as his. Sweat glazed his and your body as the room had gotten hot and damp. He grunted and uttered a satisfied ”I’m gonna fill you with my cum”.
With one last rough thrust Theon shoved his manhood deep inside you, his cock erupting staining your innocene with his warm seed. He then pulled out of you with a smirk, seeing his cum leak out of puckered hole and running down your legs. You collapsed on to the matress below in exhaustion.
Theon was just about to get ready to leave but he couldn’t leave you like this. He covered your nakedness under the covers and blankets. He then started getting dressed and before he left planted a kiss on your forehead saying ”You were so good to me, Y/n, better than any common whore, you were divine”. He then gave you a last kiss before he left your bed chambers with a smirk and a feeling of satisfaction, and maybe even a little bit of love.
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zombiewhor3 · 1 year
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BLUE EYES AND JEALOUSY
rick x fem reader (season 5 era)
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WARNINGS: mentions of jealousy, protective rick, mentions of injured reader, mentions of blood from injury, alexandria era, smut, reader is over 18, penetrative sex, oral, fluid consumption (cum only), jealous sex, rick marking reader, slight public sex, fingering, clit play, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk, dominant rick, rough sex, loud sex, getting caught but kinda on purpose ig,
a/n: sorry for the no uploads i've been so busy and i keep randomly starting new drafts and never end up finishing the old ones but anyways i've been working on this one for a week so i'm shocked i even got the chance to actually write out the full thing, i might come back and edit some more of it later because i hate some of the details but feel free to enjoy this for now!
-
a protective prick is what she labeled him as, she could see the difference from the man in the beginning to the man who was now ruthless and so paranoid with practically everything that had seemed to been thrown their way.
she looked at the man who's beard needed an obvious shave while he paced on the porch of one of the houses in Alexandria, she could see his hands placed on his hips as his mind seemed to be a running treadmill of thoughts at full speed inside him.
she remembered how he knocked out aaron and about how badly he had treated him, when all he ever wanted to do was help their group, he just wanted to help their group.
Aaron wanted them to get out of the barn to get out of the poor life they lived in the woods because the truth was they needed food, they needed water and a stable shelter which is what they had now at Alexandria, and living like that simply just wasn't a life for them.
Besides Alexandria was perfect for them the community had hot water, bigger rations to feed their people, air conditioning, hell it was almost like the world was before, the way they all had the opportunity to sleep in beds and never had to worry about going hungry.
Except she could tell everyone was on edge, the paranoia starting to catch onto them, the lack of trust as well, thinking that maybe someway or somehow this was another trap just like Terminus.
Especially Rick had been off his rocker, with all these interviews stressing him out, because he hated the camera filming him,
not because of the way he looked he hadn't cared an ounce if he was covered in Walker blood and dirt that lingered over his skin and hair from traveling through the woods.
he wasn't sure why he hated the way the camera and its red blinking light seemed to soak into him, but he hated the feeling, he hated the feeling of being watched ever so precisely with it.
She noticed he stopped his pacing and instead leaned against the snow white railing while he let go of the hand that was placed on the holster where his knife rested.
"you alright?"
a voice called out from the bottom of the porch making y/n turn her head, a man dressed in nice clothes and a clean pair of jeans rested just near the wall with one of his eyes squinting from the sunlight that was beaming down on him.
his hair color the color of a dandelion and his eyes the prettiest honey golden she had ever seen, his hair short and obviously freshly trimmed because she could see some gel in it still from the way she was ever so guessing he liked to style it as.
y/n pointed to herself watching the man nod with a somewhat of a charming smile approaching the steps of the porch, she could see the dark pupils of Rick's eyes grow,
like a shark meeting its prey the blue was quickly swallowed up and turned into the color of soot that had poured out of the prison while it was being engulfed in a heard of flames and walkers.
"your leg it seems to be bleeding, our doctor is great and i'm sure it wont take long to fix you up" the man offered to her,
he hadn't noticed Rick's nails practically digging crescent shapes into the woods his hands gripped on but she seemed to, she seemed to notice the jealousy and the anger that was boiling through his blood, the way he seemed to be so furious over the man before them.
"it's just a small cut, i caught a branch on the way up here i'd only need a bandage wouldn't want to waste resources" y/n spoke with a gulp looking over to see Rick's grip loosen on the railing as he used a hand to rub over his bushy facial hair.
She had lied that it was a small cut and well that she needed just a small bandage, all she wanted was to maybe ease the man who stood envious and threatening next to her.
"not a waste if you need one just trust me on this" the man held his hand out watching as y/n hesitantly took it making her way down the stairs as she followed him, she swore she could hear a raspy grumble fly from Rick's lips as he watched her run off with some tramp.
-
she looked around the clinic, it was nice and well it was sanitary. unlike the prison clinic where blood and some walker guts had remained before it was burned to the ground.
she looked at the man who forcefully lifted up the denim fabric of her jeans up above her calf to look at the wound on her leg,
"well it ain't no scratch but lucky for you, you don't need stitches"
he gave a half false smile before using some rubbing alcohol to sterilize the wound making her bite down on her inner cheek once he wrapped it in a clean bandage.
Rick slipped into the shower feeling the hot water pour onto his back, with a relieved sigh he used a cloth and a bar of soap to clean over his body. making sure to wipe the residue of blood and dirt from the woods that he had collected over the period of time.
the water poured down his face as he let out a deep exasperated sigh while his mind started to wander to her, his mind seemed like a freight train that wouldn't stop itself from spinning in one big giant circle around him.
no matter what he did, no matter where he went even if he was with her, he couldn't stop thinking so damn wrong, so damn erotic was how you could describe the thoughts pooling into his mind,
a sudden snap of anything and it could send him in a mind filled haze of just imagining how good his cock would be inside her, he imagined how well she'd take him, if he hadn't torn open her walls with how large the size of his cock was.
he let his hands wander over his body while he combed through his shaggy hair that also needed a cut, he wiped over his face pushing some water out of his eyes as he flushed himself with cold water to make the dirty thoughts go away.
he could feel the chill through his bones, of course it didn't feel good, but he had to. He was merely a few seconds away of stroking himself to the idea of her being stuffed to the brim, her pussy full of his cock while she was a moaning mess beneath him.
she was out playing a game of explorer with this man while rick was drowning himself with the guilt of imagining her perky tits pressed against him, and it wasn't like she hadn't taken a notice to his staring or just the way he loved it whenever she touched him.
a subtle hand graze was just enough to set him off, to send him to heaven and hell with the dirty thoughts lingering in him.
Alec had shown her everywhere, he'd shown her the garden and all the houses, the food pantry, he even showed her how they managed to keep all of their power just from the power of science and sun rays.
she giggled as she bit into an apple feeling the sweet juices lace over her tongue she let out a moan, a sigh of the relief and well the sweetness of the fruit in her mouth.
she hadn't eaten anything fresh in weeks, it had been almost a month since she had eaten anything remotely near fresh, they all had been eating from beat up cans or even random rabbits Daryl had been able to catch with his crossbow.
"good isn't it?" alec asked scooting a little closer to her as she took another bite before she was even done chewing the first one, she nodded her head eagerly before taking another bite.
she felt like a slob eating this way but then the thought only crossed her mind because she hadn't really cared what he was thinking of her right now because she was hungry, so hungry that she was already half way through the sweet red fruit.
"so what is with Mr scruffy?" alec asked nudging y/n as she bitterly swallowed the apple in her mouth feeling like it had gone sour from his out of the blue question about Rick.
"he's nervous that's all, he doesn't like new people or new places" she spoke honestly but left out a few of the true details about his strange behavior towards her and Alec.
She left out the fact that somehow they had a weird connection, or somehow they couldn't seem to not get jealous over anyone who came close to one another.
it was like a loop that couldn't seem to stop for the two, even if they managed to set a boundary she could tell the pressure between Rick and her was growing and starting to bottle up,
like a soda can ready to explode after its been shaking and well rick was the can in this case and Alec was the one shaking it.
-
Rick wanted to lose his damn mind, he wanted to yell and simply go ape shit once he saw the two laughing from the bathroom window, he was wrapped in a white linen towel,
it dangled just to his v-line to show off the perfect outline of it and well his abs were visible which was even more of an benefit if she were just to stop talking to that man and come up stairs.
Rick cracked the window open so he could hear about whatever the hell the two had been murmuring about for over 15 minutes, for rick it had seemed like and endless damn time loop he couldn't seem to let his mind escape from, he couldn't seem to make it stop.
"Alec i should go, it's close to meeting up with my friends it's been great you showing me around and well i'm glad i met you" she spoke honestly watching the man place a charming smile on his face while his honey eyes seemed to make her heart skip a beat.
"dinner tomorrow? just me and you please? i promise i can cook" he asked watching as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and she looked down at the jet black asphalt underneath her boots.
she left him without an answer for a few seconds watching as he shuffled and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "or is it the big guy that's stopping you because i can tell Deanna to come and handle him with no problem"
she licked her lips with a chuckle at his words, "he doesn't stop me from doing anything Alec, and no Deanna doesn't need to get involved with my group i think we can manage ourselves"
y/n bit back watching Alec take in the realization that he said the wrong words but she frowned softly once she realized maybe she had been just a little bit to harsh towards him.
"dinner then tomorrow at 7"
she didn't even get the chance to respond to his obviously already planned out offer because he had walked off to another side of the wall so he could fulfill his duty of keeping watch on Rick and their group even if it was just for the night and here she was about to lose her damn mind over the dinner date part.
she was surely just about to lose her mind because a handsome man asked her to dinner, a man she had only known for less than a day, but she planned on seeing and talking to him more.
After all he seemed to be sweet.
Y/n walked past the people sitting in the living room up to the room she left her bag in but the bathroom door cracked seemed to get her full attention, she hated cracked doors it was just some damn pet peeve of hers but when she saw Rick who was shaved and freshly showered her jaw seemed to fall to the ground.
"oh god" she mumbled slipping inside the bathroom making sure to shut the door behind her, "you shaved finally" y/n remarked watching as rick started the water and rested the razor against the white porcelain of the bathroom sink in front of him.
he didn't respond instead he turned his head to look at her watching as her eyes seemed to want to glance down at the sight his torso held for her, she mumbled something under her breath watching him take a step closer until she was pushed against the door,
Her back was pressed against the wood while she could feel one his hands lingering and brushing some hair from the soft skin of her neck, it sent a chill down her body as she tried to buck her hips up.
She was bucking her hips up at him, maybe to give him a message or maybe just to feel his hard cock that she knew was surely gonna poke against the white linen of the towel he had ever so sloppily wrapped around his waist, almost like he wanted it to fall.
Almost like he wanted to fuck her until her brains were scrambled, he wanted to fuck her and make her forget about whoever the hell that man was, no matter how nice he seemed.
he used his thumb to wipe over her cheek while his other hand slid down to the middle of her hips just above her cunt where he forcefully but gently pushed her against the door.
"needy huh? well you shouldn't be so wanting for me to touch you y/n, not after the game of explorer you've been playing with whatever the hell his name is"
he gestured his head behind him where he knew the window was, he knew he was still leaning against the wall with a smug look, his hands tucked in his pockets as he probably thought about y/n.
he could feel her breaths grow shallow and raspy from just the small of contact his body had on hers, he gently let her hand glide to the flat part of his abs feeling her gasp softly.
"his name is Alec, and you know damn well who i'm with shouldn't be in your level of concern" she spoke back pulling her hand away to try and make him believe that she wasn't enjoying pressing her hand against him, but hell they both knew the damn truth.
Rick cocked his head to the side softly while using one of his fingers to toy at the waistband of her jeans, "i think you know why" he spoke back watching as her eyes couldn't seem to stop glancing at the bulge that had formed underneath his towel.
"i'm not your property rick, and you can't make me" she scoffed back her eyes finally having the courage to look up at him instead, to look into his that were the color of a blank night sky.
his hands gripped a slight pressure on the side of her hips watching as it was once again an excuse for her eyes to trace down just to get another glimpse of how hard he was.
"i don't give a damn what his name was and i don't give a damn that you think i shouldn't care, you think he'd be better than me? you think he'd know how to touch you y/n? And god believe me if i need to prove you wrong i will"
he grumbled at her feeling his grip grow tighter at her waist feeling her shudder at the contact, she didn't respond except she kept her gaze on the bulge he had hidden under the cloth that she ever so desperately just wanted to tear off of him.
"stop staring and answer my question" he spoke watching her eyes look up at him once more, she licked her lips clean from the desire to look back down at him,
"w-well no, but" she froze feeling his hands start to rub its way down to the waistband of her jeans slipping them down lightly
as she tried not to pay attention. "but what y/n? finish your sentence" he spoke pulling his hands away from the denim that was now hanging just below her hips.
without even such a warning or hint to her action she reached her hand out to rub the bulge in his towel making him groan her fingers spun so perfectly through the fabric making him practically buck his hips up to get more from her, her hand rubbed a small set of circles making his voice grow raspy and huskier with each sly movement of her handwork that truly seemed to be working like a charm on him.
"you're trying to distract me" he griped at her, she could tell he was enjoying it, and maybe just a little to much, she slipped down to her knees watching as he looked down at her,
he pushed her hand away just so he could pull off her t-shirt revealing her breasts being held up by her bra, the bra that was a dark blue color that seemed to blend well with her skin.
he liked the sight of her, he liked seeing her down on her knees while she was ever so willingly playing with his cock even if it had been clothed it was all still such a damn sight for him.
she wiggled her way out of her jeans to reveal her black panties, the hem such a pretty damn lace that he knew that soon he was going to tear off of her to get access to her cunt.
her hand ripped away the towel that was wrapped around his waist, she tossed it across the bathroom floor while her eyes admired his member that was lengthy and hard right in-front of her,
she was practically drooling at the sight of it, rick's cock was long and thick, it had veins just in the right places making it even more god damn pretty to her.
she used a hand to start from the base until she made her way up to the tip of his cock using her tongue to lick off the salty clear liquid that seemed to form on top because of his eagerness.
he groaned softly while his hand reached out to tangle in her hair, he forcefully gave himself a grip at the root of her hair swirling his fingers at her scalp to keep a steady hold on her.
her tongue seemed to be like god damn magic with each way it seemed to warp around his cock each time he bobbed in and out of her mouth like a lollipop, her mouth was so full of him her eyes started to prickle and her throat felt sore.
he was bucking his hips up just a little so he could help force even more of his needy cock down her throat, he could feel her saliva starting to build and spill out onto his cock while her nails started to dig into his inner thighs.
she had a full set of prickling tears flowing down her cheeks from the pressure building up in her throat and well the fact she was trying not to gag all over his cock, she could feel him twitch in her mouth.
already so close and all she had to do was work her mouth,
but it wasn't just the pleasure her mouth was feeding him that was about to send him off the edge, it was the way she looked so pretty on her knees, the way her eyes filled with tears and the way her nails dug into his skin as she whimpered against him softly.
he had been finally able to shoot his load down her throat hearing as the breathing from her nose seemed to sharpen while her nostrils flared, her mouth was trying to take all of his seed,
once she swallowed his warm seed she pulled away from his cock, panting and her throat scratchy from the saltiness of his liquid pouring down her throat like she was a cum rag.
his chest rose up and down while he helped lift her up from her knees and pressed her back up against the door, his hard cock now pressing against her belly as she tried not to moan at the hand that was now pulling off her panties.
he wrapped them around his fingers while he admired them for just a hence of a few seconds before finally tossing them to the floor,
he used just one of his hands to un-clip the bra watching it slip off her body so peacefully. her breasts still perky while her nipples grew hard at the arousal each of his thumbs was giving them.
she let out a soft moan for him as she could feel him the one dropping to his knees to place a soft kiss on top of her cunt that was clenching on practically nothing because of how impatient and how desperate it was for any touch of his,
she whimpered tossing her hips forwards at him but he simply pushed them back and stood back up, he peppered a kiss on each of her breasts feeling as goosebumps formed on her arms.
"n-need you" she whined at him practically sinking her nails into the biceps of his arms hoping he would understand the message and once she felt the tip of his cock teasing the inner of her wet folds she knew he took the message the right way.
he allowed one of his hands to trace into her wet folds as he pulled his cock away, just to give her a taste of what she actually wanted or just what she actually needed.
she let out a loud moan feeling as his middle finger was inserted into her and when she felt his ring finger join the other in her dripping cunt she let her hands wander to the top of his shoulders planting down a firm and stable grasp for herself.
he pumped his fingers slowly inside her watching as she tried to keep back her moans by forcing her teeth to clamp down on her bottom lip, his eyes flicked up at her as he started to pump faster.
"c'mon don't be shy now let them know how good you feel" he spoke hearing as she let out a sputtered gasp at the feeling of his thumb rubbing its way in fast circles amongst her clit.
"f-fuck Rick!" she cried, "god that pretty throat of yours has so many talents" he chuckled in her ear while his hand slipped around her neck gently to rub just under her chin.
it was like she could already feel her orgasm starting to arise in her because her legs shook and her mind was a damn minefield ready to explode with profanity and dirty words that she was sure that she could no longer hold onto inside her.
"so c-close fuck i'm so close" she whimpered feeling as his other hand moved from away from her throat and down onto her breasts swapping back and forth to make sure they each got the same amount of attention from him.
the soft swirl of his thumb on each of her nipples and the feeling of his fingers inside her curling at her g-spot with each thrust was like heaven to her, she was so damn close to letting out an erotic cry once she felt the knot growing looser and looser in her stomach.
"come on, cum for me let em hear how good you are baby" with just those subtle words he could feel some of her juices spurt out onto his fingers while she made a loud set of whimpering noises so loud that even Alec was able to hear them spilling out of the bathroom window.
Rick licked his fingers clean with a smile as he made sure to clean off every ounce of her juices off of them, without a hesitation he flipped her around so that she was pressed against the door.
his cock teasing her soaked entrance while she whimpered at a finger skimming over her clit just to see how sensitive she really was, "p-please" she whined at him her fists pressed against the door.
he himself was so damn impatient, he was so needy to be inside her he could stand the teasing either, with swift up rise of his hips he thrusted into her while his full drive hearing as a scream was pulled out from the back of her throat.
-
"as i was saying Dixon, you suck at go fish and i'm going to kick your ass, i've already decided it" Michonne spoke pulling down two sevens in her deck next to the pile of her other matches.
Daryl scoffed as he licked his lips clean about to ask if she had a '6' but a loud sound coming from the bathroom stopped him, the door was rattling as a rhythmic pounding noise was coming through.
he could hear a loud cry as he furrowed his brows and looked over at the others, Glenn sat up and Rosita tossed down her knife and the piece of wood she had been whittling away at.
another cry emerged as Daryl stood up in a slight crouch position and pulled up his crossbow but Sasha grabbed his arm and forced him to put it down.
the pounding seemed to go on forever along with the set of screams that started to flood out of the bathroom, it was y/n crying and moaning aloud for Rick.
They could hear her muffled profanities faintly while the pounding didn't seem to stop, "fuck rick! god dammit right there!" she screamed so loud that they were all sure even all of the houses and buildings surrounding them had surely heard it.
"so fuckin tight this pussy" they heard a loud groan and a whine back in response, the door shaking so much from her body being pressed up against it, her tits smushed against the wood while her nipples were perky from the slight coldness it was pressing on her with.
his cock was buried so deep inside her she swore that he was re-arranging every single organ in her stomach maybe his cock had even skimmed past her own heart that's surely what it felt like to be this full of him, to be filled to the brim so much that she had tears flowing down her face and her hair a scrambled mess.
"you think Alec could fuck you like this?" rick asked bitterly as he held onto her waist to fuck into her even deeper, "n-no!" she cried almost sounding like another whimper from her.
"so fucking close" she whined so loud that she could practically feel the vibrations of her own cries, she was letting out a series of pleasureful moans while she felt his cock twitch inside her.
"i should fill you up for being so bad today" he huffed into her tugging a piece of her hair hearing a moan return back to him, he groaned feeling as his cock twitched inside her while her walls clenched around him hoping to spill its juices.
"gonna c-cum oh f-fuck!" she practically screamed feeling his hand slip around to her front to rub against her sensitive clit only making her even closer and once both of their knots untied they both let out a series of profanity while they panted.
rick could hear her whine when he pulled out of her with a soft 'pop' sound that seemed to make her legs wobble without the stability of his hands on her body, she flipped around to see him grab a rag and putting some water from the faucet on it.
he gently spread her legs while he wiped his cum clean from her, even though he loved the feeling when he thought about watching it pour from the walls of her cunt.
she hissed softly watching as rick grabbed a fresh rag to clean himself off, he helped to get her dressed by slipping back on her clothes letting them slip onto her body, she thanked him while watching him change into the fresh pair of clothes he had laid out for him after his shower.
he followed her down the stair case to see all of their friends staring at them, Rosita rolled her eyes in a slight disgust and got up to grab something from the kitchen.
Rick had been so lucky that he placed Judith and Carl in a different house with Jessie and their son Ron, maybe just to get Carl around more kids to keep him somewhat a normal person,
Daryl shook his head at y/n while he had put his crossbow against the white wall next to him, "thought a walker got in but it's just ya two fuckin" he scoffed watching as Michonne practically choked on the glass of water she was sipping on.
she coughed with a smile on her face trying to hold back the disgust and the laughter all at once, "oh god you two are horrible!" glenn piped in watching as his wife chuckled a little.
"you two fuck like dogs!" y/n remarked back taking a seat against one of the cushions rested on the floor for her, "one time in the guard tower doesn't count!" Glenn huffed back watching as Maggie raised her eyebrows while her eyes widened a little.
"that's disgusting you know i used to keep watch in that tower!"
y/n shuddered at the thought of her two best friends having sex with each other but it couldn't be as bad as hearing Rick and her going at it upstairs.
-
Alec flicked his eyes up to look at y/n who planted a kiss on Rick's cheek before she made her approach towards him, he took a bite from his oatmeal bitterly swallowing it while he looked at her.
"you were sweet trust me Alec i just have something else waiting for me i'm sorry" she spoke, she hadn't felt that bad about it, even though the situation did seem pretty shitty.
"i was only gonna pity fuck you anyways i haven't had action since this bullshit started so don't get to excited" he spoke the truth, she could tell he wasn't lying which is why she hadn't said another word instead she walked back over to her friends.
"god if he knew what an actual fuck was" she mumbled watching as rick furrowed his brows, "what?" he asked rubbing the sides of her waist watching as she smiled at him, "i think alec understands now" she spoke proudly while feeling Rick press a kiss against her neck.
"good"
4K notes · View notes
forbidden-sin-bin · 8 months
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Sex and Filthy Smut headcanons
(Eminem x F!Reader Hc’s and drabbles)
Rated: E for explicit… no wait, this needs an X rating for possibly being the filthiest thing I’m gonna write in my life. God save my soul (probably not but hey at least I asked)
Warnings: I mean… look at the title. Need I say more??? Smut. Sex. Lovemaking, Intercourse. Whatever the hell you wanna call it. The whole 10 yards is here. It’s porn, not gonna lie at all.
Tags/Keywords: Smut, Heavy Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, fluff, fluff and smut, Pre-established relationship, Sexual Content, Kink, Overstimulation, Dom/Sub, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Giving/Receiving, Healthy Relationships, Feel Good, Everything sinful under the sun is found here, Author is going to hell, anyone who reads this is coming with me
A/N: Yes yes, ain’t no fuckbuddies or friends with benefits headcanons here, sue me. There is NO angst or sadness here. None, zero, zilch. Those kinds of relationships almost NEVER end well 98% of the time. This is all about you and him ONLY. Give it up for romance y’all.
Not gonna lie, there might've been more I wanted to add to this hellfire list of headcanons but once you've seen how much stuff there is below I hope you'll forgive me for finally putting this out here.
I hope by reading this, will provide you with comfort and satisfaction.
VERY special thanks to @smutty-books for beta reading and feedback along with helping me with this monster of a list! Please check them out and show them some love! (Seriously thank you Smutty for the additional ideas and content. you made this Hc's list a million times better and twice as much content included.)
(WARNING: Past this point is VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)
General HC's:
Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy ohhhhhh boy.
You want sum fuk? You got sum fuk and way more.
As long as you’re his s/o, congrats on your sex life being absolutely demolished and rebuilt by this man. You’ll probably never find a better person in the bedroom for the rest of your life. It literally doesn’t matter if he’s your boyfriend or your husband, sex is a staple activity in your relationship that you both enjoy.
Fast and rough? Slow and steady? Maybe a little bit of both? You bet he’ll be saying fuck yeah to all of those.
His sex drive has always been relatively quite high, even after all these years. Being 50 and counting ain’t gonna stop him anytime soon.
Can, and will, want to fuck you on any and every surface of the house.
Living room couch? Perfect spot for bouncing in his lap or to blow him hard.
Dining room table? He’ll have you either bent over and railing you from behind or sitting on top while he devours your dripping wet pussy.
Taking a shower? You’ll be saving water if you do it together… yeah. Definitely not because of at least a half dozen things you can do in there with soothing hot water pouring down your bodies.
In the studio?…
Okay maybe not the studio he’s gotta work without getting distracted and lord save you two if anyone finds a sliver of evidence that you two fucked in there-
Not a PDA guy much, which also extends to any sexual antics outside. He won’t be taking any risks getting the two of you caught lacking
As long as you two are in the house, it’s free game
His views and methods of sex vary depending on which era we’re talking about
If he were in his 1999’s/2000’s era, then yeah, absolute horndog. He’s constantly so busy and on the move, sex would be a quick trip and onto the next. It would’ve scratched the itch, but arguably wouldn’t have sated his appetite for long. If he ever had a chance to have a good, drawn out sex session, it’ll leave him looking like he had a serious hangover but he’ll be waking up so relaxed.
Him being quick to fuck around and quick to leave was his style pre-Relapse. It’s a common thing you see around music artists in general and he was no exception. That doesn’t mean he was closed off to finding an actual solid relationship, it just becomes that much harder to find someone genuine. Most of the time though, he was busy putting out albums and producing music with a 9 to 5 regimen.
Post-Relapse/Recovery Em had insane stamina due to the excessive amount of exercise he put in. Call me insane, but I have a feeling this may be the time where he had the least amount of sex drive-
NOW HOLD ON HEAR ME OUT
He was starting out his sobriety around this time, I’m no expert but I would have to think that he hasn’t fucked or hooked up with anyone since then cause sex may have been a risk or his body was recovering, therefore most likely putting sex as a low priority. That isn’t to say he wasn’t busting a nut oh no, he probably became best friends with his hands again.
The time between Rap God/Monster Era was slowly building back up his drive, transitioning him to the Revival/Present Day era where he’s back on his blue-balling bullshit. Mans been practically putting out mating calls in his music and in interviews I mean COME ON HAVE YOU SEEN IT
He’s wise enough to not be caught slipping with hoes cause he won’t be caught with those hoes. At all. He’s not a hoe fucker no more. You heard him.
Finding an actual healthy relationship with one person? Someone give it to him, now.
(Anyone who remembers that one shot in that Rainy Days behind the scenes video where he points the camera to his crotch and says “EVERYTHING is for sale.” If that isn’t a man in heat I dunno what is; And that’s just one example out of many lemme tell you)
THE POINT IS, HE CAN GO FOR ONE ROUND, OR MANY, MANY MORE.
He’s determined to make you feel good more than him, but he’ll absolutely be having fun with how you’re gonna come. He’ll love exploring your body, finding out every little spot that gives you shivers down your spine.
Oh yeah, did I mention that he's got a big dick? He's got a big dick.
Don't try to deny it when you can't help but glance at his crotch all the time. It might be bias, or it might be fact that you can see the bulge in his pants.
Dom/Sub Roles:
He’s a dom, no question about that. Most of the time he’s a soft dom, not overwhelmingly asserting himself over you but firm enough to have you listen to him. Of course, he’ll be praising you a ton if you’re doing good and listening. But if you’re acting a little bratty, a little petty… yeah, he’ll make you behave, let’s just leave it at that.
Enjoys having you bent over his knee while he fingers your pussy, making sure you’re all nice and ready for him to enjoy.
If you squirm too much, expect a light spanking and a firm reminder to behave.
Again, not over the top with his dominance, cause at the end of the day, he wants to take care of you, to make you feel comfortable and show you how much he loves you. So praising isn’t just a dom thing, it’s genuinely how he expresses his affection to you.
If you insist on it, he can go even harder as a dom, upping his antics and getting off on seeing you beg for relief. Punishments will be even meaner and if you slip up even just a little, looks like you’re gonna have to start all over. No amount of pleading, teary whines from you will get him to change the cold, hard look in his eyes as he’s watching you.
Absolutely insistent on a safe word, no matter the situation.
Marshall’s immediately shifting to a protective, nurturing caretaker the moment your safe word leaves your lips and making sure your needs are met, completely understanding and shushing any apologies that threaten to leave your mouth for ruining the moment. You come first and foremost.
Amazing with aftercare. Will make sure that you’re okay and well taken care of after a session, praising you lovingly as he holds you close. If it was particularly intense, he’ll be checking in on you for the next day or so whilst feeling quite proud of himself that he can reduce you to a begging, dripping mess yesterday night. But he's by far more proud of you for trusting him and letting him experience you in such a vulnerable position.
All it takes is for him to say: "Such a good girl" and you're all his. (Can't blame you honestly-)
He'll be using your petnames even outside of your passionate sessions, even if it's just coming home to greet you after a day of work or passing by each other in the house to do something, a quick: "Hey peaches" or "How's my babygirl?" never fails to want to leave you smiling shyly, even after a bad day.
While being a sub is not what he would usually do at all, it’s not impossible. Once he’s far into a relationship with you and fully comfortable, he might actually give in to your insistence.
He has a need to feel like he’s in control, like he’s leading; Being on the opposite end is a big deal for him, so if he ever subs it’s a huge fucking compliment and privilege that shows how much he trusts and loves you to bare himself to you.
He’ll definitely be grumbly about it tho, and probably trying to act all teasing at your attempt to dominate him. But once you get past that first phase and he lets himself relax and give into your control… he doesn’t want to admit it, but he feels so fucking secure with you.
When he fully gives in, he’s preening and leaning into your touch. He’ll be such a good boy under your lavish praise and having all of your attention on him.
It feels almost foreign, not being the one in charge and making all the decisions for once. But once he gets used to it, he'll be doing whatever he can to receive your approval.
Seeing him at your mercy, letting you take the reins, makes it your priority to see him come undone by your command, holy shit, it's fucking beautiful.
If he's up for being a little more bratty (not unlike he's been on his petty shit for decades as his core personality trait let's be real here) and expecting to be punished and/or your dominance be harsher, the thought of pushing you to your limits with how much you're willing to keep up with him makes him really, really excited on the inside.
It’s both of your secrets, so don’t fuck it up, a'ight?
Teasing/Body Parts:
Speaking of secrets… he’s incredibly private, but at the same time, don’t be surprised if he ends up writing lyrics that may or may not allude or be inspired by your sex lives. You swear this man will be the death of you, smug bastard.
If you’re ever turned on by listening to his music or his voice, it’ll be such a massive ego boost for him, holy shit. No need to feel embarrassed, cause he’s fucking flattered.
Even tho his residence is far from any neighbors (and definitely soundproof), he’s got a playlist for your ears to get aroused to.
Imagine Marshall whispering in your ear or talking in that low voice of his and well damn now you’re horny is an understatement of the goddamn century.
And it’s not just you! Marshall gets off hearing you moan like crazy, another sign that lets him know he’s doing a damn good job. Hearing you whimpering gets him going, but making you scream? Jackpot.
Unsurprisingly to a lot of y’all, but he loves tits. He loves ass for sure, but feeling your breasts is just- Yes.
Love fondling them, licking, biting, sucking, you name it.
Now do the same for him-
OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN’S PECS
MAN’S GOT HUGE FUCKING HONKERS. HOLY SHIT.
(No wonder he’s such a titty guy-)
But seriously, play with his chest and he’ll be moaning and writhing under you. Music to your ears.
Rest assured your ass will not be forgotten or neglected. No fucking way he’ll ever leave any part of you un-worshipped. Even when you’re just passing each other around the house he’ll playfully slap or squeeze your ass with a smirk. Cheeky fucker.
May or may not prompt him to just throw you down and pin you against whatever furniture is closest and have his way with you right then and there.
Or it could be the other way around! You can't help but give his sexy behind a mischievous swat or grab, or his pecs. He'll probably pretend to be miffed but you'll be catching him returning the smirk you have on your face. Oh, by all means, have your way with him right then and there as well. Equal rights, equal sexy times.
Grabbing your backside and pulling you closer to him, pressed against his chest and his growing bulge in his pants oh sweet Jesus-
Will for sure spank you while you’re riding him or he’s railing you from behind, the sounds of skin slapping against skin while he sees your ass jiggle with every thrust is just so fucking hot
He wants to reach deep down, as far as his cock can reach, nothing in the house is safe from him pounding your pussy and giving you a creampie.
Speaking of that, He LOVES to come into you or on you. It gives him a feeling of claiming what's his. Anytime he sees his cum dripping outta you or running down your skin, Marshall’s ready to go again.
Or he could use a sex toy, making sure his cum stays inside and your pussy ready for him in a few.
Kinks
We’ve already covered the dom/sub parts, but there is SO much potential for other kinks that you and him can get into so let’s get right into it
Breeding Kink:
I mean how can we not start this off without mentioning that
Can, and will ram you harder and faster than a piston AND make sure you both cum multiple times
If you’re walking the next morning, that means he failed the assignment so now he’s boutta rectify that
Dirty talk is cranked to a hundred as he’s growling in your ear on how much of a slut you are for his seed, how he’ll fill you up and make sure your womb is carrying his baby, how gorgeous you would look with your belly swollen with your little creation, etc.
Even if he’s sure that he doesn’t want anymore kids (given his age or experience, which is understandable), imagine the baby fever he gets when he sees or imagines you with kids
He’s perfectly happy with just you and him, but the possibility of you, him, and maybe a little one you made together from your love? His pupils are dilating like a cat getting ready to pounce
Even if the possibilities are extremely unlikely, the mere thought of it and he’s giving you the 🥺 eyes. (Every time you see him make those eyes at you, it’s probably cause he’s feelin the breeding urge)
If you're not able to, that doesn't change a thing; he wants to make you feel like you're his no matter what, and you are! He loves you for you.
Obsessed with coming inside you after railing you into the mattress, filling you to the brim with his seed
Loves giving you a creampie and then watching it leak out of your pussy, might take the initiative to stuff his spilling cum back into you
Or he could just fuck you at multiple different times during the day like the stud he is
Hell he may as well just not pull out and you’ll both be falling asleep still connected
You'll be waking up with his member engorged and slowly thrusting in you while he nuzzles into you, taking in your scent, kissing your lips so softly until you both cum. After that he takes you to the shower and you both wash each other
Loves marking your skin with his mouth, letting anyone know that your his and his only
Your cunt and everything else is thoroughly satisfied every time the breeding kink comes on don’t you worry about that honey
Size Kink:
Hey don't judge his 5'7 ass. Marshall's got other big things minus his height; Big hands, big ears, HUGE CO-
If you're smaller than him: He praises you for taking him in so well, whispers words of encouragement with every inch he pushes into you until you can feel his tip brushing against your cervix. Doesn't want to overdo it in fear of hurting you, but with your insistence he'll be going all out in due time
If you're taller than him: He LOVES it. No cap you being taller or bigger than him is so fucking sexy. Makes him more eager to make you come and more confidence in exploring different ways to do so
Takes a hand in yours and guides you both to press against your stomach, feeling for his cock thrusting into you
Praises you constantly as he feels your walls stretch around him so perfectly
Once you feel like you can take all of him, all of his restraint is gone as he pounds your sopping wet cunt relentlessly
Body worshipping is a must regardless of size
Feral/Primal Kink:
You know how possessive he can be, and that still translates to the bedroom. Even when he knows you're his, he can't help but feel turned on by his possessiveness for you.
And when you're all his, he can go fucking. Crazy.
It's also the dom feeling in him as well, but he has a need to claim you: Not out of insecurity, but out of his desire to make sure you know how much he loves you.
Likes biting your ear as an affectionate gesture. Sometimes he enjoys lightly tugging as a playful gesture to get you riled up.
Marshall thinks the growling thing is dumb as hell but if you're into that he'll try to give you some throaty growls in your ear, but expect him to start cracking up at his attempts until he's used to it
He thinks he can't do it yet he doesn't realize the low rumble in his throat whenever he gets a jealous streak
Voice/Audio Kink:
Well, well, WELL. Someone's ego is about to be stroked harder than his cock for once
He’ll absolutely be moaning and grunting more often when you guys have sex
Jokingly asks if you want to put some music on before you start fucking though he probably cringes listening to his own music during sex
Definitely ruins the mood for him when he hears someone that collabed with him on one of his songs or if any of his lyrics mention things that he doesn't want to think about when horny
Whenever he asks what you're listening to and hears one of his songs, he can't help but inwardly smile or smirk with pride. "Good choice." He nods, keeping his face unreadable.
If he catches you listening to FACK he just starts dying with laughter and dying on the inside simultaneously
No but seriously, he's super fucking flattered knowing how much his music or just his voice turns you on
Whispers in your ear during sex, either praising, teasing, or telling you what to do
He'll be observing which tone provokes the biggest reaction out of you so he can remember it for future reference
(People working with him in the studio are gonna be wondering why he's so close to the mic while recording recently)
Might record something just for your ears to listen to when you guys are apart ;)
Sex Positions
Missionary:
Ah, the OG.
Ranging from being the most vanilla to literally breaking the bed and making the house shake. Most people’s go-to position and Marshall is no different.
He’s got full access to your face, neck, and breasts while he pounds you into the mattress, absolutely loves it and it’s no surprise.
Is eye contact a kink? He’ll be wanting to look you in the eyes no matter the pace you’re going. Additionally may often include forehead touching and/or nose nuzzling. Incredibly hot and intimate.
If he’s feeling extra curious or dominant, he might even push your legs back and over his shoulders to reach even deeper into you. (In other words, putting you in a mating press.) You ain’t walking for a few days after this. Catch his freaky ass all smug n shit.
Slow and intimate in this position is SO fulfilling. It’s like baring your souls to one another.
Going fast and rough is just straight up a joyride and a half. It feels carnal in the best way possible.
Overall you can’t fuck this up really. It’s missionary for crying out loud.
Doggystyle:
*clears throat* Ahem. BARK BARK WOOF WOOF
If you haven’t seen my fic Heat yet, it’s basically me writing smut for the first time in this position but taken to the next level. Should hint at a lot on what imma bout to say tbh
YES. HELL YES. PLEASE LET HIM RAM INTO YOU FROM BEHIND. HE’LL BE POUNDING INTO YOU SO FUCKING HARD
If you go face down on the bed, ass up? Holy shit
Expect bruises on your hips the next morning… also a very horny man ready to go again or to absolutely worship the fuck outta you for taking it so fucking amazingly
He'll be running a bath for you, being extra doting and attentive, the whole nine yards while also feeing that masculine satisfaction™ at the fact that he's able to get you to that state of bliss.
By far the most feral position. If he’s got a breeding kink I wish you luck on how many times you’re gonna come and he’s gonna come
If you’re also into taking it in the ass I respect you 👀 kinky motherfucker would love to explore some new ways to fuck
Pronebone is also basically the same as mentioned above, but it’s got that intimate feel, you get me? He’s closer to you whilst also able to attack your neck and shoulders, maybe even have a hot make out session with you while he continues to pound your pussy or ass raw.
As long as you love taking it from behind he’ll be on his knees for you. And on top of you.
Cowgirl/Reverse Cowgirl, You On Top:
Ride him. That’s all I gotta say.
He wants you to ride him. Fuck him silly. He’ll lose it.
It’s a perfect demonstration of him still being the dom. You may be on top, but he’s the one in control.
Might tease you by making you work hard for a reaction outta him. He’ll be pretending to be unimpressed or smug while you bounce in his lap but in reality he’s trying so hard not to break
Either that, or he won’t be holding back on how good you make him feel. Mouth open, quietly moaning, grabbing your ass or your hips.
If he can't take it anymore, he pulls you down to him and holds you tight while he starts bucking his hips, pounding up into you like a piston
Even once you both come he starts back up again before you've even calmed down
Oral (Giving and Receiving)/69:
I mean… are we really gonna question it? Yeah you better give this guy some head he is a slut for it
Give him a blowjob and he’ll be the happiest man alive
You watching his expressions as you’re sucking him off
Might take some practice to take all of him into your mouth cause this man is BIG
Even when he’s got loose sweatpants on you can still see his bulge AND IT’S NOT WHEN HE’S HARD AND HORNY. MARSHALL’S PACKING.
I wish you luck in trying to deepthroat this man
When it comes to oral, he definitely prefers receiving rather than giving
But don’t you DARE underestimate this man’s tongue cause holy fucking hell he’s feasting on your pussy
PLEASE let him suck on your clit while he’s eating you out. That man’s mouth is amazing in many ways for a reason
Imagine having to go out after and if anyone asks him if he wants anything to eat he just replies: “Nah I’m good. I had something earlier.” And then GIVING YOU THE SIDE EYE LOOK-
BEARD. BURN.
Let this man bury his face in between your thighs and imagine the friction of his beard brushing against your skin. If that doesn’t make you cum then him lapping you up will guaranteed
69 turns into a competition to see who can get the other to cum first, or a comforting session of tasting each other
Standing:
Y'all know he can do it pinning you against a wall. Thanks 8 Mile
As hot as it is, take care as not to have your head or back bang against it
Great for quickies but probably not for a long time; You gotta give his back a break lmao
Hugging your waist from behind tho :eyes:
Add a mirror on both opposite ends of the wall and you can watch him thrust into you
He's holding you real tight and close, making sure to hold you up so your legs won't buckle
Spooning:
Feelin real cozy
It can be lazy morning sex; Intimate and gentle as he places kisses behind your ear and buries his face into your neck while he does long, deep strokes in and out of your walls
Or it can be rough: Holding your thigh up while his hips violently thrust into you, only stilling when he comes after you
Another way is his cock slipping between your thighs and humping you eagerly, or his cock rutting against your ass
Push your hips back in time with his thrusts for deeper penetration or the sound of your skin slapping against each other
His hands clutching your hips or grabbing your breasts as he moans in your ear, feeling his cock twitching with his release
- - -
ALRIGHT TIME TO STOP HERE I’VE BEEN KEEPING THIS IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS Anyways hope y’all enjoyed this and then some <3 I might come back to this and and more so who knows? If you enjoyed let me know your feedback and if you have any suggestions!
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marvelsmylife · 2 months
Text
Enchanted
Pairing: Cassian x reader
Plot: Cassian finds his mate during Starfall
A/n I was watching the Eras tour last night (yes I’m a die hard Swiftie) and was inspired to write this when she performed Enchanted. I decided to write it about Cassian because I feel like he needs more love on here.
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Cassian really didn’t want to be here celebrating, not when a few months ago he nearly died during the battle with Hybern. He reluctantly agreed, only because he wanted to please his high lord and lady, but if it was up to him, he would be locked away in his room.
After only being at the celebration for a few hours, Cassian was ready to make an excuse to leave the party.
That’s when he spotted you in the middle of the dance floor, dancing alone, with no care in the world. Cassian couldn’t help but admire your free spirit and wondered if you came to the celebration with a significant other or if you came here with friends. He didn’t know why, but he started growing jealous at the thought of you possibly being here with another male.
“That’s y/n,” Rhysand commented, and scared Cassian because he didn’t realize his brother was standing next to him: “She’s good friends with Feyre,” Rhysand added when he realized Cassian was probably wondering how he knew what your name was: “You should go dance with her. From what Feyre has told me, she got out of a relationship not long ago and is trying to get out and have some fun.”
The old Cassian would jump at the chance to bed a beautiful female like yourself, but he couldn’t bring him to do it, at least not tonight: “I’m not like that anymore,” Cassian replied. 
Rhysand gave Cassian an amused look at his explanation and earned a punch from his brother: “I’m trying not to be like that anymore. I want what you and Feyre have. I want to find my mate but don’t know how I’ll find her. How did you know Feyre was your mate?”
Rhysand began explaining what he felt before finding out Feyre was his mate. Halfway through Rhysand’s explanation, Cassian couldn’t help but look over at you again and felt as if someone knocked the wind out of him. Rhysand seemed to notice and patted Cassian on the shoulder: “I’m going to repeat myself: go ask y/n, your mate to dance.”
Without giving himself a chance to second guess himself, Cassian walked up to you and lightly tapped your shoulder: “How can I-” You went silent when you made eye contact with Cassian: “General Cassian, how may I help you?”
“Dance with me?” Cassian asked, point blank: “Please?”
There were gasps from jealous females as they watched Cassian extend his hand to you: “I would be honored to dance with you,” you smiled at Cassian and took his hand.
Luck seemed to be on Cassian’s side that night because the second he pulled you up against his chest, a slow song started playing. “So general,” you spoke to break the tension between the two of you: “How are you enjoying Starfall?”
“Please, call me Cassian, and it’s better now that I’m dancing with the most beautiful female in all of Prythian,” Cassian replied; a warm smile appeared on his face: “What about you?”
You tried not to let Cassian’s words get to you, but a shy smile crept up on your face at his compliment: “I was doing ok until a handsome Illyrian man complimented me, and now I don’t know how to act.”
Cassian felt his ego boost at your comment and found himself holding you a little tighter. He was about to ask you when Rhysand announced the show was about to begin. Cassian leaned in and whispered into your ear: “Come with me. I know a better view.”
You were going to question him where because you already had a perfect view of the sky when Cassian decided to carry you bridal style out and into the skies. “Cassian, where are you taking me. We’re going to miss the stars,” you asked while burying your face into Cassian’s chest.
“Don’t worry, we’ll still see it,” Cassian reassured you.
You were starting to get worried about where Cassian was taking you until he finally landed on a mountaintop. “Did you bring me here to get murdered?”
Cassian tried not to laugh at your question: “No, I didn’t bring you here to get murdered. I brought you here so we could watch this,” Cassian pointed to the sky and noticed the stars passing by: “I brought you here so we can watch this without any background noise.”
You were in awe as you looked up at the sky and saw stars shooting across the sky. “No matter how many times I’ve seen this, I’ll never get tired of it,” you gushed: “Good call coming over here to watch it. While I love celebrating with others, it’s nice to watch this in silence.”
While your eyes were glued to the sky, Cassian stared down at you with nothing but love and adoration. He couldn’t believe that after so long, he was finally face to face with this mate. His only problem was that he didn't know if he should let you know right away that you mates or if he should wait until you get to know each other better.
Feeling Cassian’s stare, you looked up at him confused: “What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?” you started touching your cheeks.
Cassian found himself chuckling at your question and replied: “No. I’m just admiring your beauty,” causing your cheeks to turn warm.
“You Illyrian males are something else,” you smiled at the Illyrian male. 
Something inside Cassian finally snapped, and he found himself leaning in to kiss you. You were expecting the kiss to be rough and rushed, but it was the complete opposite. Cassian was kissing you so gently, like he was afraid you were going to break under his touch. His large, rough hands were resting at the small of your waist, pulling you closer to him.
You didn’t know how long you kissed Cassian, but you started craving more of him. He was all you could think of, and you started to feel a sense of dread at the mere thought of being away from him. As soon as Cassian pulls away, you hear the words you never thought you’d hear in your lifetime, especially from someone like Cassian: “I thought I’d never find you, my beautiful mate.”
“Mate?” you repeated in surprise: “We’re mates?”
Cassian simply nodded, worried sketched on his face. He was afraid you would reject him, even though you shared what he thought was an extraordinary kiss.
“Mates,” you repeated once again; this time, you smiled up at him: “You’re my mate.”
“I’m your mate,” Cassian leaned in again, but just as he was about to kiss you, he whispered: “Happy Starfall, my beautiful mate,” and kissed you again.
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jyoongim · 3 months
Note
Okay before I put in my request lemme just get this off my chest. I love anything you do with Al (my man my man my man)!!! Like you eat every single time and if anyone says others wise they’re hating idc. Don’t ever don’t your craft I’m so serious! Much love🫶🏾
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Now for my request could you do something with Alastor adjusting to his gf who’s from more modern times? I’d like to see that scary scrawny old man with a thick young lit bich. Both of them getting used to each others likes, habits, interests (he reads the paper while she scrolls on her phone, he hums old songs from his time when he’s getting ready for the day while she has or rnb playing on a speaker while she does her makeup, etc). Idk I like seeing opposites come together☺️
my man my man my man my man is right baby! Awwwwww thank you so much. Words cannot describe how this made me feel (giggling and blushing reading this) I LOVE YOU ❤️💕😘
Alastor didn’t know what attracted him to you. The two of you were complete opposites. From completely different eras.
Your attitude, style, language, hobbies all of it was so different from his time.
But he adored you nonetheless.
You used to think he was so old-fashioned. Not liking modern tech, reading the paper, cooking home cooked meals instead of takeout. Often confused when he spoke in riddles than actually being direct.
But the two of you made a cute pair.
For instance:
You were sitting at your vanity, makeup sprawled everywhere as your hiphop playlist played. You were recording a video or ‘going live’ as you put it. Alastor found himself liking the music you played as he got ready.
”who’s the old man?” He heard you say, a laugh bubbling from you as you broke out in giggles. He turned his head to see you give a sly smile in his direction before turning back to your camera.
”oh that fossil?” you chirped, giggling at the comments flooding your feed.
Another comment must have caught your attention because you snorted.
Alastor never understood your need to be on social media. To entertain others that weren’t him, but he let you be.
He was curious. What had you giggling so much?
You smiled as he appeared behind you, large lanky frame entering the camera frame. He wasn’t glitching.
”Dearest what’s got you so ticketed?”he asked, peering over your shoulder to look at the little words appear on your screen.
’why is an old man in the room with you?’
’HE BAGGED A BADDIE LIKE YOU? NO WAY!’
’definitely a sugar daddy’
’why you with that old man?’
He tilted his head, where they referring to him? His lip curled as he read the comments, looking at you for some context.
You giggled,wrapping an arm around his neck to rub his cheek against yours lovingly.
”yes yes this is MY man. Alastor tell everyone ‘hello’ ” he growled instead,giving your glossy lips a peck before walking back to finish getting ready.
You giggled, continuing to put your makeup on as you sang along to your music, eyes reading the comments on Alastor.
”I put this WAP on him y’all hahaha but no You know i looooove the way he treats me. Absolute princess treatment” you laughed. Alastor adjusted his bow tie on final time before turning his attention back to you
You had finished your makeup, standing up you showed your outfit of the day and made silly faces.
You leaned over your chair to read a comment
”He must be dicking you down real goodt” you read out loud and before you could respond your phone glitched out, ending your live.
You pouted, turning to Alastor “Al!”
He wrapped his lanky arms around your plush form, “such lewd comments” he said admiring your makeup.
Sometimes you catch yourself humming the songs he played as he cooked. You were NOT a cooker, so watching Alastor helped you figure out what went with what for when you actually attempted to cook.
”baby what’s that?” You asked as he pulled out multiple seasonings. He explained each seasoning, what the flavor did in different recipes and how to properly blend them so they weren’t so hard but a subtle taste. 
You weren’t too keen on his cannibalistic ways, but you loved to watch his process.
Angel and Husk often made snide comments about how you must be rubbing off on the old demon. 
“He did not use that slang right toots, what are you teaching him?”
You would shrug it off, thinking it was cute Alastor was picking up on your modern language.
Most days when the hotel wasn’t on fire, you and Alastor sat in bliss; him reading the newspaper as you asked him his opinion on random posts you saw as you scrolled on your phone.
Alastor loved to take you to lounges, not disgusting clubs you were so privy to. He thought you need to be exposed to ‘real music and dancing’. He would drag you to the dancefloor, pulling you in for a waltz or whatever old timey dance from his time.
While he didn’t mind the lustful sensation of your body rolling against his, he loved watching you trying to learn steps to old dances.
The way you flushed with embarrassment as you stepped on his toes as you tried to follow always made him laugh.
Alastor was not a fan of your attitude. You were sassy and always spoke your mind, not caring that he often spoke empty threats at you. You never cowered at him and always had to get the last word in. It really ticked him off, but it also made his chest swirl with lust when you never backed down from him.
Your arguments often led to the two of you fucking it out.
Him degrading you as you hiss insults at him, but purring as he pounded your pussy into the mattress.
The two of you were like puzzle pieces. You fit together perfectly, even if the picture looked odd.
The two of you wouldn’t have it any other way
332 notes · View notes
zepskies · 3 months
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The Miracle Man
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Pairing: Boaz Priestly x F. Reader
Summary: The first time you met Priestly was both the worst and best night of your life. He gave you a Miracle.
AN: Here’s the prequel to Code Red! (But this can also be read as stand alone.) I hope you enjoy. And just a note, remember this was circa 2007, still the era of flip phones and iPods, despite the advent of the iPhone.
Word Count: 3,500
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for mature talk. A kind of meet cute, insecurities, angst, breakups, hurt/comfort, sandwiches, fluff and feels.
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He was a lone ranger in the Wild West. His weapon of choice?
A dirty mop.
Priestly bopped his head to the music playing from his earbuds. His iPod was tucked in his right jean pocket while he speared the mop across the floor of the sandwich shop. It was three minutes to closing time on a Saturday night, and it was his turn to clean up and lock up.
He was looking forward to getting home, taking a shower, and diving face-first into his bed. But first, he just needed to kill three minutes.
Come on, come on, come oooon, he sang in his mind as the hands on his watch ticked on. While glancing down at said watch, he remembered it had been a gift from Tish for his birthday…
Three months ago. When they were still together.
Priestly heaved a sigh. What were you supposed to do with gifts from your ex that you actually liked? The gifts that made it into your everyday life, not just because they were from the person you thought you loved, but because it was actually hella practical and a nice accessory to keep on your person?
It’s just a damn watch. Don’t make it a big deal, he reminded himself. What was he supposed to do, have a ritual burning of everything Tish had ever touched?
That would take all damn night. And he definitely drew a line at his dick.
“Hello?”
The front door of the shop opened, the little bell Trucker installed chiming with too much cheer and startling Priestly out of his thoughts.
“We’re closed,” he said. But that was before he looked up, and had to pause in his mopping.
You were standing there, holding yourself in the open doorway with the cold breeze hitting your back. You were wearing a red cocktail dress and the highest black heels he’d ever seen, with your styled hair falling around your shoulders.
You were entirely too beautiful to be in this old sandwich shop, he thought. It had Priestly swallowing, frozen in time.
“Really? The sign says 10,” you pointed out. There was a level of desperation in your eyes. “Please, you’re the only place with the lights still on and I’ve been all up and down the block.” 
Blinking out of his idiotic state, Priestly looked down at his watch again. It was exactly 9:59 p.m.
Well, damn. Got me on a technicality.
He held in a sigh.
“Okay, come on in,” he waved you over. Setting down his mop, he rounded the counter and went to man the register. He gave you a minute to peruse the menu. He noted that aside from your stunning attire, you had a cell phone in your hand that clearly couldn’t fit in that little purse hanging off your shoulder, bumping along your hip.
He couldn’t help but visually trace the curves of your hips and waist, back up to the sweetheart neckline of the dress, the deeper shade of your lipstick and up to your face.
But then he felt bad for staring, so he looked up heavenward before you caught him.
Meanwhile, your eyes drifted from the menu and dipped to his chest for a moment.
“Too bad I’m not gay,” you said.
What? Priestly frowned in confusion. But following your gaze, he realized you were staring at his yellow shirt, which read in big, 70s-style letters: Be Gay & Proud, Get a Free Drink.
His lips twitched at a grin, and he looked up at you. “D’you know what you want?”
You had a smile starting to play on your lips as well. You went back to considering your choices.
“Not sure, but I’m starving. What do you recommend?” you asked.
Priestly’s lips puckered as he considered the menu he knew by heart.
“Well, if you wanna go classic, I’d do a Spicy Italian on white bread. If you wanna be adventurous, we just added the Jalapeño Buffalo Chicken Club," he said. "But, if you wanna get crazy awesome, I can put on some Zeppelin and make you something special of my own design.”
He colored that last option with a gesture of his hand, a flourish, if you will. You tilted your head at him and smiled.
“Okay. Surprise me, Sandwich Man.”
Priestly snorted while he washed his hands again. “Sounds like the lamest superhero ever.”
“With his death-defying salami summoning powers,” you quipped, with a giggle that had him smiling as well.
“Nice alliteration,” he said. And he made a show of tying his apron back on. “Don’t worry, ma’am. Your late-night hoagie is safe with me.”
You tried to stifle another laugh while he worked his magic. From bread to meats and cheeses and toppings, Priestly was a master of his craft. He had that 12” hero wrapped and sliding across the counter towards you in record time.
“I call this the ‘Miracle,’” he winked. “You’ll see why. But that’ll be $10 even.”
You nodded and turned to the purse on your hip. You opened up the little velvety thing, but your face fell when all you found was your keys, not your credit card.
“No.” Your heart dropped into your stomach. You opened your purse wider and flipped through the satin insides, but you saw that it was empty. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I know I had my wallet in here…”
And then it dawned on you.
“That fucking asshole,” you growled.
Priestly’s eyes widened. “Uh…”
Your head snapped up to his. “I had a different purse picked out for tonight. You know, one that actually had my wallet in it? But my know-it-all boyfriend had the nerve to say, ‘That one’s too shiny, looks kinda cheap. This is a restaurant at the Ritz-Carlton, not a hooker hangout.’ Can you believe that?”
Priestly blinked in confusion, but he realized that in your purse shuffling, you had no way to pay for this amazing sandwich he’d just concocted.
And now, you actually had the beginnings of frustrated tears in your eyes as you took in a shuddering breath.
“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I can’t—I can’t pay for this. I don’t have my wallet… Hold on, let me see if he’ll…”
You held up a finger and started dialing manically on your phone. You held it up to your ear and waited. Your tears sprang forth anew when the line just kept ringing until it sent you to voicemail. 
“Figures,” you scoffed. “The one time I actually need this douchebag to answer, he ignores me!”
You slammed the phone down on the counter and covered your face with your hand as you sniffled. Priestly softened with sympathy. You seemed to be having a harder night than he thought.
He slid the sandwich your way, making you raise your head.
“It’s okay. This one’s on the house,” he said. “Looks like you could use a pick-me-up.”
Your watery eyes met his. “Really? You don’t have to…”
“No worries,” he replied, giving you a bit of charm in his grin. “I’ll even throw in a soda. Lady’s choice.”
Your lower lip trembled, but you were able to smile. With a quiet thank you, you wiped under your eyes carefully so your mascara wouldn’t run. Then you grabbed a Coke from the machine along with your sandwich from the counter.
“Do you mind if I eat here?” you asked, gesturing at one of the tables. “I promise I won’t leave a mess. I know you’re trying to close up.”
Priestly waved a dismissive hand. “Sure. Don’t worry about it.”
He went around the counter to take up his mop and continue where he left off in the cleaning process. But he couldn’t help but eye you every now and then. Curiosity was starting to eat him alive.
Had your boyfriend just dumped you here? Had you gone off alone? Somehow, he couldn’t see the first option happening. If you were his girlfriend, he would do his best not to let you walk away angry at him, let alone this late at night, without any money or even your ID.
“Are you coming from a party or something?” he found himself asking. You looked up from your second bite of the sandwich. You’d looked to have been truly enjoying it, uttering a moan that’d caught his attention.
“No,” you chuckled humorlessly around a mouthful of bread. “I was supposed to meet his parents. His rich, very bougie, hyper-critical parents. Somehow it didn’t occur to me that he was just like them.”
Priestly paused and leaned on his mop. He was hesitant, not wanting to disturb you while you were eating, but he was too damn hooked.
“So…what happened?” he asked. You scoffed and took another massive bite of your sandwich.
“Okay, you want to hear this? Fine,” you began. “So, I’m a stress eater by nature. Let’s just start with that.”
“Who isn’t?” Priestly supplied. Pursing your lips, you raised a black olive at him in a thank you gesture.
“But when I tell you I spent three months depriving myself to fit into this dress. No carbs, cheese, chocolate, or happiness.”
He grimaced. “That’s no way to live.”
“Exactly!” you concurred. “But I did all that so my boyfriend would have nothing to say when I finally met his parents for this dinner—to celebrate him graduating from med school.”
Priestly found himself dimming inside. Not only were you spoken for, but you were with a future doctor, no less. The only title Priestly had to his name was Sandwich Man.
“It started with the purse thing when he picked me up. Then when we get there, he keeps telling me how stuffy his dad is and how judge-y and critical his mom can be and how I’m a reflection on him,” you mocked in an impression of his voice.
“Then I find myself second-guessing every word that might come out of my mouth, and I’m too nervous to even eat the $60 plate of Chilean sea bass in front of me, and not to mention, there’s a glass of wine in my hand. I don’t even like wine!”
By now, it was all Priestly could do to keep up with your verbal spitfire. You were also gesticulating wildly with your sandwich the more worked up you got.
“I mean, I’m saying things I don’t say, and suddenly I realize that I’ve wrapped myself up in so many knots for this man, I don’t even recognize myself,” you confessed. Your eyes lit up with a gleam of clarity. Your hands lowered down to the table, and after a beat, you continued eating.
“But then my boyfriend of over a year turns to me and says, ‘Why are you being so weird and frigid?’” you said. You met Priestly’s eyes. “I just, I got so mad. I wanted to choke him out with my napkin, you know?”
He bit his lip to stifle a laugh.
“So instead of violence, I grabbed the glass of pinot noir, or chardon-perignon-whatever-the-fuck, and I poured it in his lap,” you concluded. “Then I walked out. And I ignored his calls. And I kept walking. Then a nice guy made me a sandwich.”
Priestly had to smile at that. He knew there was a Ritz-Carlton in the area, but that had to be almost a mile down the street. You’d walked a long way in those crazy-ass heels.
He propped his mop against a nearby table and sat down across from you. He shook his head in wonderment. And inside, your words kind of rattled him.
I’ve wrapped myself up in so many knots, I don’t even recognize myself.
“You know, sometimes I really, really wish I was gay,” you said, gesturing at his shirt.
“O-Oh…really?” he asked, raising his brows.
“Yeah, I do,” you answered. “I’m a quick study. I could learn to eat pussy.”
If he had been drinking something, he would’ve spat it out. He mentally fumbled for a moment before he could articulate a response.
“Well, I don’t doubt you, but it can be an acquired taste. Though I happen to like it,” he replied, grinning mostly to himself. He didn’t even think about how it might come out though.
As soon as he realized what he was saying to a perfect stranger, his eyes widened and met yours.
"Uh, sorry," he said.
But you just chortled in amusement. Your blush intensified though, along with your smile as you took a sip of your soda.
“You’re uh…you’re pretty awesome,” he said. And he meant that.
You blinked in surprise. Your lips twitched upwards, a blush rosy in your cheeks.
“Yeah?” you asked. His smile deepened.
“Yeah,” he replied. “And for the record, I know I just met you, but…I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Your face softened with a certain shyness, but you smiled at him through your lashes.
“Well, I appreciate that…” you trailed, realizing you didn’t yet know his name.
“Priestly,” he offered, along with his hand across the table. You slipped your smaller hand in his and gave him your name.
Though you quirked a brow at him. “Priestly? That’s your first name?”
Now it was his turn to get a little embarrassed.
“Uh, no,” he said, his gaze falling from yours. He scratched the back of his head, under the blue mohawk.
“Oh. What is it, then?” you asked.
“You don’t want to know,” he chuckled wryly.
“I think I do, or I wouldn’t be asking,” you countered. Your smile was playful though. Disarming, even.
“It’s um, it’s Boaz,” he admitted. You tilted your head, as if swirling the name around in your head. But you didn’t say it was weird, or stupid, or too biblical. You just smiled.
“Boaz Priestly. Interesting,” you nodded. Then you wrapped up your garbage, having eaten all of your sandwich. You made sure to collect every crumb, even though he’d told you not to worry about the mess. You got up to take it to the trashcan near the door.
“How’re you getting home?” he asked.
You bit your lip. The anxiety in your eyes told him you’d been pondering that same question. You let out a deep breath.
“I guess I’ll have to walk back to the hotel, try to get a ride from my b…my ex-boyfriend. Gotta get used to saying that,” you said. “I promise I’ll pay you back for the sandwich.”
“Didn’t I tell you it was on me? Don’t worry about that,” said Priestly. “But I’ll tell you what, let me give you a ride.”
You shook your head. “Oh, thank you, but we just met, and I—”
Just then, Priestly realized how his offer sounded. He didn’t want to creep you out.
“Ah, or I can get you a cab,” he said. “I doubt you want to see that guy again tonight, do you?”
You bit your lip, smudging some of the scarlet red lipstick there. It distracted him for a moment, but he returned his gaze to your eyes.
You sighed. As much as you didn’t want to impose again, you let Priestly call you a cab. He paid for it in advance after you gave the cabbie your address. Before you got in the car, you turned to Priestly and touched his arm.
“Thank you,” you said. “I promise, I’ll come tomorrow and pay you back.”
He smiled. “You can try.”
He earned your sweet smile back, and he watched you get into the cab. He tried not to raise his hopes up, but he really did hope he’d see you tomorrow.
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And yet, he should’ve known it was too good to be true.
“Maybe she got caught up at work or something,” Jen tried to console him the next day at closing, after you didn’t show up.
“It’s Sunday,” he pointed out grumpily. He continued to wipe down Table 4 of some nasty residue of mayo and pickled radish.
“You don’t know what kind of job she has,” Piper interjected. She was making a tuna salad sub on wheat for the last customer, which she then passed on to Tish at the register. “Maybe she’s in retail, or she’s in the restaurant business too—or hey, a lifeguard! This is a beach town after all.”
“Or maybe, she just played you into getting free food and a ride home,” Tish suggested, with her usual brand of cutting sarcasm. It just tended to cut a bit deeper these days, whenever it was leveled at Priestly.
The post-breakup thing had been tense and awkward for everyone, and it still hadn’t normalized just yet in their little sandwich-making ecosystem. Jen shot her friend a look though, one that told her she was being bitchy.
The problem was, she’d only voiced what Priestly was thinking anyway, deep down.
“Amazing, serendipitous things don’t happen to me, Piper,” he said. “Not anymore.” 
He continued cleaning.
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Three weeks later, it happened on a Friday afternoon.
It was one of their busiest times of the week. Tish was at the register as usual, Jen was sorting through the inventory and bussing tables, and Priestly was making hero after hero like a fiend, alongside Piper. He was definitely living up to his name of Sandwich Man.
He was still able to recognize your voice near the register.
“One 12” Miracle, please,” you requested.
“Um…we don’t have that on the menu,” Tish replied. But Priestly looked over with a grin. He met your gaze, and found you smiling back at him.
Tish followed the exchange with suspicion.
“One Miracle, coming up!” Priestly called out.
He had the order ready within minutes, but he was painstaking about it, not an olive out of place. He wrapped it up nicely and walked it over to the register himself, placing it in front of you on the counter.
“Well, hi there,” he greeted.
A familiar blush spread across your face, just as endearing as he remembered. The only thing different about you so far was your clothes. No longer dressed to the nines, you were more casual in your jeans, ankle boots, and V-necked top.
In every other way, you were the same. It might’ve been making his heart trip up.
“Hi,” you said. “Got a minute, Miracle Man?”
Priestly ducked his head, hiding a more bashful smile. Before he could respond, Tish interrupted, “That’ll be $10.”
You nodded and handed her a $50 bill. She looked at you in confusion.
“The rest is a tip, for the hero makers,” you explained, glancing at both Priestly and Piper. He gave you an incredulous smile.
You little minx, he thought. He couldn’t say no if you were tipping Piper too.
But he did ask Jen to help fill in for him while he made his way around the counter to go to you. Tish just watched the scene unfold with a silent frown, like she was trying to make sense of what was happening. She always thought she’d be the first one to move on.
“Let’s talk outside. Little more privacy from the peanut gallery,” Priestly said to you, tossing a knowing glance over his shoulder. You spotted all the employees now watching you and Priestly closely.
You became a touch more shy as he led you out of the shop with a hand resting on the small of your back. You slipped your sandwich into a larger purse than last time. Then you looked up at him with apologetic eyes.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to come back here,” you said. “It got a bit…ugly, after that night.”
Priestly’s brows furrowed in concern. “Ugly?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you assured him. “Lots of shouting and empty threats, then half-assed apologies. But I’m done with all that.”
Priestly considered that with a nod. “Well, good. I’m glad to hear you’re doing better.”
You stared up at his face, and you thought he really seemed to mean that. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach, not three weeks after breaking up from a year-long relationship. Even so, the night you walked out of this shop, you felt free. Like you could breathe again.
You felt like you.
So now, you leaned up and kissed Priestly on the cheek.
His eyes widened a fraction as he stared down at you. You smiled and grasped his hand.
“Would you maybe want to…ask me out sometime?” you asked. A nervous giggle escaped you, making him smile.
“Y-Yeah, I would. If you’re sure you want me to,” he replied. In the past, maybe he would’ve let his excitement get the best of him. He’d be trying to jump at this chance. Experience had taught him not to hope too hard though. Sometimes, getting what you wished for backfired in your face.
You squeezed his hand, earning his attention.
“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked. Your smile became teasing before you used his words against him. “From what I’ve seen so far, you’re pretty awesome. But mostly pretty.”
He had to laugh at that. Pretty was not something he’d ever been called in life. Weird, freak, try-hard goth—that was all familiar territory. His tattoos and piercings tended to bring that out in people.
But he gathered some courage and squeezed your hand back.
“Well, you’re beautiful,” he said, thumbing at your chin. His eyes met yours and got lost there for a moment. “Uh, really beautiful.”
You blushed further and bit your lower lip out of habit. It drew his gaze, and he gained a little more courage. He tilted your chin upwards, so he could find those lips easier in a kiss. Your fingers curled in the front of his shirt and brought him closer. His hand found your cheek as he angled deeper into the kiss.
Despite the chill on the air, the California sun was warm and beating down on you both.
It was the perfect day for a Miracle.
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AN: How I love Priestly lol. If you liked this, let me know! 💜
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Priestly Masterlist
Main Masterlist
BP Tag List:
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28
@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @sanscas @kaleldobrev
@waters-2567 @pieandmonsters @akshi8278 @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @idiotdyslexic @heartlessdelusions @chriszgirl92
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257 notes · View notes
joelsgreys · 10 months
Text
fall into temptation | one
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter! Reader
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series masterlist l next chapter
summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56, i know, i know but this is self indulgent because my birthday is next month idk just let me have this one) canon language, canon violence, several mentions of religion, terms pastor and preacher are used interchangeably here and there, mentions of the bible and religious symbols (cross), innocent/virgin reader, very brief scene of attempted sexual assault, no explicit smut (yet). asshole Joel, protective Joel, hints of softish dom Joel (if you squint). reader has two sisters, the only physical description for them is their hair, which they can also braid as well as their style of clothing.
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.
word count: 8.4k
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Jackson, Wyoming
Fall 2024
Joel had seen him around the community before. 
He’s an older man in his late sixties or possibly his early seventies with thinning, snow white hair and silver, wire rimmed glasses that always seemed to be perched on the tip of his pointed nose. He was a good, kind man from what Joel could gather—offering up warm smiles and friendly waves to anyone who happened to cross his path, stopping to greet and say hello to familiar faces. The hem of his starched white shirt is tucked into pressed black slacks and even from where he stood across the road near the horse stables, Joel noticed the book clutched in his right hand, old and bound in supple, worn black leather with the words Holy Bible etched into the cover in flaked gold lettering.
Jacob, he thinks his name is. Or was it Josiah?
Something biblical—a name fit for a man who was so fucking clearly devoted to the big man upstairs.
Joel knew his own name was a biblical one, but he was the furthest thing from a man of God. After all that he’d done in the past twenty years, there was only one place he was going and that place wasn’t exactly known for its pearly gates or sweet cherub angels playing harps.
Joseph? Was that it? 
He couldn’t be certain.
Not that Joel really even cared to know his name. 
It’d been a couple months since Joel arrived back in Jackson with Ellie after Salt Lake City and the truth of the matter was that he preferred to keep to himself whenever it was possible. Joel had zero interest in getting to know the people of this settlement, not unless he had to for the sake of patrol duties—and that’s only if he hadn’t been able to weasel his way out of getting assigned with a partner who wasn’t Tommy or Maria, the only two people in the whole fucking community Joel could stand being around. Minus his kid of course, but even he and Ellie could really only take each other in small doses lately. Perhaps it was their tense, strained relationship that was to blame for the fact that Joel Miller walked around this place with a standoffish attitude and a permanent scowl plastered on his face. 
Most people were smart enough to scamper off in the opposite direction when they saw him coming. He was never offended by it. It’s what he wanted. He wasn’t here to make friends.
In fact, the closest thing he had come to a friend outside of his brother’s wife was Esther, the woman Maria and Tommy had tried setting him up with when he first got back to Jackson. He wouldn’t go as far as calling her a friend, either. That’s a little too generous. Friend? No, more like a good fuck when he couldn’t drown his bitterness with Seth’s barrel aged bourbon and he was in need of a different kind of distraction.
But there was a reason this particular man piqued his curiosity. Actually, there were three reasons he managed to garner Joel’s attention and all three of those reasons were trailing behind him in an orderly, single file line, each one more fucking gorgeous than the last. He was positive he’d never seen them around before—because how could he possibly forget the faces of the most beautiful women in this town?
They’ve gotta be sisters, Joel thought to himself, his hand resting on the neck of the horse that he’d ridden out to patrol that morning, a dark, chestnut mare named Willow. Although he was supposed to be walking her inside the stables and back into her stall, he found himself far too distracted. While the three women weren’t identical to one another, the similarity in their traits such as hair color and their skin tone confirmed his suspicions that they were related. They all styled their hair in neat halo braids and wore slightly different color variations of the same getup—pressed, long sleeved blouses tucked into knee length floral printed skirts and worn, leather oxford shoes.
Clutching the brown leather strap of his rifle in his opposite hand, Joel leaned himself against Willow and squinted against the bright afternoon sunlight in an effort to get a better look at them. 
The first two were slightly on the older side. If Joel had to take a shot at their age, he would guess the women were in their thirties—a man of fifty six, he still had about two decades on them, easy. Joel let his gaze shift, his dark brown eyes flickering to the last one. His breath audibly hitched in his throat and part of him wondered just how fucking dumb he had to be to be drawn to the youngest one of the three. It couldn’t be fucking possible—you couldn’t be that much older than your mid twenties, if that. 
Joel’s grip on the strap of his rifle tightened. 
All three of you were beautiful beyond words—why the fuck did it have to be you who held over his interest?
“Take a picture,” Maria remarked with a tiny laugh. She dismounted her horse and peered at Joel over the black stallion’s back. “It’ll last longer.”
She’d led that morning’s patrol, her first time back on duty since she had given birth to her son in the spring. Joel had returned to Jackson right on time to meet his one month old nephew, Noah. 
He cleared his throat and shrugged. “Just tryin’ to figure out what their deal is, that’s all.” He paused, then remarked, “Didn’t know polygamy was a thing around here.”
His comment must have struck a nerve in his dear sister in law—fiercely protective of the people who were under her leadership, Maria hadn’t found the sister wives implication the slightest bit amusing. 
“Watch it, Joel,” she admonished, shooting him a warning glare. “He’s the town’s pastor and those girls happen to be his daughters. So let’s keep our wise ass cracks to ourselves, shall we?”
His daughters? He almost couldn’t believe it. Surely the girls must have taken after their mother because they sure as hell didn’t get their good looks from their old man. They hardly looked anything like him.
“Pastor,” Joel repeated with a small hum. He then remembered her pointing out an old church house back during the winter when she’d given him and Ellie the grand tour of the community. “So he ain’t got a real job like the rest of us?”
Maria rolled her eyes. “His job is a real job, Joel. It might be hard for you to believe, but there are still a lot of people of faith around here,” she explained to him. “He provides them with comfort and with hope—”
He snorted sharply through his nose. “Hope?”
“Yes, hope,” she snapped at him. 
“Hope for what, Maria? That things will go back to fuckin’ normal? That the end of the world is temporary?”
Maria crossed her arms over her chest, jutting her chin. “Some people never lose hope, Joel. There’s a lot of people who need this man and he serves a much bigger purpose than what you’re giving him credit for.”
“And what about the girls? They have it easy too? Do they just stand there lookin’ pretty on Sundays while their old man reads verses out loud from the most useless fuckin’ book known to man?”
“If you must know, they work in the schoolhouse,” she answered, tossing him another glare. “They’re teachers. The oldest one, she teaches Ellie’s class. The middle one, she teaches the primary school aged children and the youngest? She takes care of all of our little ones. She prepares our preschool kids for her sister’s class by teaching them numbers and basic literacy. Shows them how to start counting, reading and writing, things like that. She also helps run the commune’s daycare.”
“At least they have real jobs,” Joel mumbled under his breath. 
“What was that?”
He feigned innocence. “Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.”
“That’s exactly what I thought.” Maria pointed her finger at him. “Come on, let’s get these guys back into their stalls. It was a long ride this morning, I’m sure they could use some rest.” Taking her stallion by the reins, she started leading him over toward Logan, one of the stable hands who helped take in the horses coming back from patrol. 
Joel took Willow’s reins in his hands—but before he could even think of moving another muscle, he glanced up and saw the preacher leading his three daughters past the stables and right past Joel. His self control faltered. All that he could do was stare at you, his eyes fixed on you so blatantly that one of your sisters had taken notice. Grinning, she turned back towards you and lifted a hand to her mouth. She used her palm to shield her lips from Joel’s view and whispered something to you over her shoulder.
Shit. 
He’d been caught gawking.
He thought about making a beeline for the stables but it was too late. 
Perplexed by whatever it was that your older sister had just said to you, you gave her an odd look, but then followed the subtle nod of her head. 
Glimpsing over in his direction, your lips parted in complete surprise and you came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the dirt road when you found your gaze meeting that of the much older, rugged man standing there with a gun slung over his shoulder.
Unsure of what else to do, Joel simply offered you a polite nod of his head. The gesture was innocent enough but it startled you. He could tell by the way you let out a small gasp and turned away from him, your eyes falling to the ground as you scurried to catch up to your father and sisters like a spooked little mouse. 
Joel couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh.
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“Is the preacher aware that his precious little daughters pay frequent visits to The Tipsy Bison at such late and ungodly hours?” Joel quipped. He gestured to a booth nestled over in a corner of the dimly lit bar with a subtle jerk of his chin. “S’gotta be the third or fourth time I’ve seen them here in the last couple of weeks.”
Tommy’s eyes followed his brother’s gesture. “Oh man, not again,” he said with an exasperated sigh. He shook his head. “Those girls, they ain’t got no fuckin’ business hangin’ around this place and much less at this fuckin’ hour. But the middle one, she’s a whole lot of trouble.” He paused, just long enough to nod at one of the three sisters, the one who was wearing her hair loose around her shoulders, twirling a lock of it around her finger as she made flirtatious fuck me eyes at the group of drunk patrolmen sitting a few tables away. “She’s somethin’ of a rebel, that one. Likes to drink a lot, get herself involved with things that she ain’t really supposed to be messin’ with. She’s the one who convinces the other two into sneakin’ out and comin’ to the bar when their old man goes to sleep.”
Joel chuckled in disbelief. “You fuckin’ serious?”
“As a heart attack. And then there’s the older one. I know she likes to drink too, but she’s a lot calmer than the other one. Ain’t gotta worry about her all too much, y’know? She tries to be the chaperone—it don’t always work out that way, though. Her halo ain’t exactly perfect either.”
“What ‘bout the youngest one?” Joel asked in the most nonchalant tone he could possibly muster. “Where does she fall on the scale between angel and devil?”
You’re carefully perched on the edge of the booth, your pretty features twisting in disgust with every sip of the rich, amber colored liquid in your glass. Unable to stomach the burning alcohol, you set it off to the side, abandoning it in favor of a glass of water instead.
“Her?” Tommy grinned, leaning back into his chair as stated, “Oh, she’s an absolute angel. She’s just ‘bout the sweetest fuckin’ thing you’ll ever see in your whole damn life, big brother. She’s gotta be the kinda girl who all the little birds and woodland critters sing to when there ain’t no one around,” he laughed. “She’s real good. Too good. Wouldn’t surprise me if the lord sent her down from heaven himself.”
Joel tossed him a skeptical look across the table.
“She really as innocent as she seems?” 
“I don’t think she even knows what it’s like to hold another man’s hand,” his younger brother laughed again and reached for his beer, taking a generous swig. 
Joel hummed softly and lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips. The mere thought of you being so pure and so innocent—untouched by anyone else—caused something to stir deep in his lower belly. 
“She’s the old man’s pride and joy,” Tommy continued, breaking into his train of thought. “Kind. Polite. Behaves. Doesn’t get herself into any kinda trouble—I mean look at her, she can’t even choke down a glass of whiskey. She’s just too good of a girl.”
Joel proceeded cautiously with his next question. “Any of them taken?” 
Surprised, Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Joel, don’t fuckin’ tell me—”
“No, I ain’t interested,” he interjected, rolling his eyes. “Just a curious motherfucker, that’s all.”
He didn’t seem too convinced by Joel’s answer. “They’re all single from what I know. To be honest, there ain’t a whole lot of men around here their old man would approve of,” he remarked. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice man and all, but when it comes to his daughters, he’s real strict. Not that controllin’ has done him much good, though.” He lowered his voice as a fellow patrolman walked past their table. “The middle one’s fucked her way through this entire town and then back again. She even made a pass at me while Maria was pregnant with Noah, if you can fuckin’ believe that.”
Amused, Joel snorted into his drink. Ballsy. “How goddamn drunk was she?”
Tommy ran a hand through his jet black curls. “Wasted. Oldest one ain’t exactly the Virgin Mary, either.”
“And the old man doesn’t know?”
“Nope. Ain’t nobody gonna snitch on grown women in their thirties.” Noticing the amused expression on Joel’s face, he adds, “By the way, just in case you haven’t figured it out, this stays between us, Joel.”
He smirked. “Which part?”
“All of it. And take it from me, those girls? S’best you keep your distance from them,” he warned as he stood up from the table. He picked up the blue denim jacket draped over his chair, shrugging into it. “Don’t go gettin’ any dumbass ideas, alright?”
“Look, if the wild one makes a pass at me, I ain’t gonna turn her down. S’not like I’ve got a pregnant wife at home.”
“Joel, I fuckin’ swear. If you even think ‘bout it—”
He held up his hands to stop him. “Relax. Was just a joke.”
“Right. M’sure it was.” Tommy snorted. “Listen, I gotta get back home. Don’t wanna leave Maria on her own with the baby for too long.”
“How’s she been holdin’ up?”
“She’s been so tired. Jugglin’ motherhood, runnin’ this place, and bein’ back on patrol duty. I keep on tryin’ to tell her to slow it down, but she just won’t listen to me.” He let out a small sigh and waved a dismissive hand. “But anyway. If you’re all good to head out, I can walk you back to your place since it’s on the way to mine?”
Joel looked down at his glass, still half full. “I think I’m gonna hang back for a while longer. I’m on the roster for evenin’ patrol tomorrow, s’not like I’ve gotta be up at the ass crack of dawn.”
“Suit yourself.” Clapping him on the back, Tommy bid him goodnight and started towards the door. 
As soon as he was gone, Joel looked over towards your booth. He watched as you whispered into the ear of your eldest sister who nodded her head in understanding. You stood up and said something else to her, then spun around on your heel, long skirt flowing along with the movement. Head down, you hastily made your way across the bar, being careful so as not to bump into anyone along the way.
You were leaving. Alone. 
In the middle of the fucking night? While drunk morons poured in and out of the bar?
She’ll be just fine, he tried to convince himself. 
Joel frowned to himself, gripping his drink tightly in his hand as he scanned the room.
Sitting at a nearby table was Kent, some idiot he’d been stuck with a time or two for patrol. He clocks the smirk that crossed the younger man’s face, his eyes following you all the way to the door. Leaning forward over the table, he whispered something to his buddies, his smirk widening. His comrades, all who looked and behaved more like teenagers rather than grown men, lifted their beers to him, nodding in encouragement. Drunk off his ass, Kent drained the rest of his own beer, slamming the glass bottle down onto the table before clumsily stumbling to his feet. 
Joel momentarily froze as soon as he realized what was happening. 
Kent was going after you. 
Joel’s lips pressed together into a tight, thin line.
Setting his drink down, he stood up from his table and slipped on his jacket before following suit.
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Joel stepped out of the bar and into the night, the chilly evening air nipping at his face. He took a look around. 
You were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Kent. 
That couldn’t fucking be good. 
“Where the fuck did you two go,” he muttered to himself under his breath.
That’s when he heard it. 
The sound of muffled screaming coming from the side of the building. Joel didn’t hesitate. Following your smothered cries for help, he whipped around into the dimly lit alley nestled in between the bar and the commune’s mess hall. You’re pinned underneath Kent with your skirt bunched up around your waist. One of his hands was covering your mouth while his other hand clawed its way up your bare thigh. 
“Aw, c’mon now, sugar,” Kent slurred his words together. “It’d be a fucking shame to let someone as cute as you stay a fucking virgin. Don’t be coy—I know you’re just like your stupid slut of a sister. She’s got no trouble spreading her fucking legs for me, y’know.”
Red.
It was the color that flashed in Joel’s mind. It was all he could see as he went up behind Kent, letting his hands reach for fistfuls of his leather jacket. He lifted him off of you with ease, slamming him hard against the brick wall of the mess hall. Pulling him forward, Joel slammed his body into the wall once more, knocking all the wind out of his lungs. 
“Miller, what the fuck are you doing!” Kent gasped out, frantically pawing at the older man’s hands in an effort to break free. “Get the fuck off me!”
“Takin’ advantage of an innocent girl?” Joel hissed at him, tightening his grasp on the collar of Kent’s jacket. “Think that makes you a fuckin’ man?”
Though he was still intoxicated, the sheer terror of being caught in Joel Miller’s hands sobered him just enough that he started sputtering an explanation. “I wasn’t fucking taking advantage of her! Her and her whore sisters were making eyes at me and the guys all fucking night! She fucking wanted it! She asked me for it, couldn’t even wait long enough to get back to my place—”
The lie came straight through his chattering teeth. The same teeth he would be picking up off the ground in the next minute or two. 
Joel knew he didn’t need to ask. Still, he turned to you, his rage only intensifying when he took in the sight of you lying there on the ground, the hem of your light blue floral skirt hiked around your waist. 
“That true?” He questioned you. “You wanted it?”
You stared at him with wide and fearful eyes.
A single tear slipped down the side of your face.
“Answer me, darlin’,” he prompted. “You wanted this?”
“No. I didn’t.” Your voice was small, barely audible.
But he’d heard it loud and clear. 
“She’s lying!” Kent tried to tell him. “She’s—”
Joel delivered the first punch, a blow so hard he’d felt the younger man’s nose crack underneath his curled fist. He struck him again and again, the blows coming in harder and harder, turning Kent’s face into a bloodied pulp.
If Joel didn’t get a grip, he would kill him. Part of him wanted to fucking kill Kent for putting his hands you—and more so for accusing of you wanting it. Pathetic fucking bastard. 
Holding Kent up by the throat with one hand, Joel pulled his switchblade from the back pocket of his jeans with the other. Fingers curled tightly around the hilt, Joel held up the knife into Kent’s view. He had left his eyes purple and swollen, but judging by the pitiful little pleas for mercy, it was clear that he could still somehow see the sharp blade being held an inch or so away from his face. 
“If I ever catch you anywhere near her again, I ain’t gonna be so fuckin’ generous,” Joel growled warningly. “I ain’t gonna let you walk away next time, boy. That understood?”
He nodded. “Un—Understood.”
“Good.” Joel released him, stepping backwards as he fell to the ground. “Get the fuck outta my face. Now.”
Kent managed to scramble to his feet and staggered off, disappearing from the alley. 
Chest heaving, Joel inhaled a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled it through his mouth before turning to you once more. 
Petrified, you still hadn’t moved a single muscle.
You looked fucking terrified. Whether it was from Kent’s assault or the way Joel had nearly beaten him to death right in front of you, it was hard to tell.
Crouching down beside you, Joel caught your subtle flinch. He proceeded to move slowly as he reached for the hem of your skirt. Delicately, he gripped the soft, flowing fabric and pulled it down into place. Joel then held his hand out to you. 
You hesitated for a split second, but accepted his hand and allowed him to help you up to your feet. 
“You alright, little dove?” The nickname had fallen from his lips before he could even think to stop it. 
“I think so,” you replied, nodding your head. You’d started to tremble and even though it had nothing to do with being cold, Joel took notice of it and he shrugged out of his camel colored jacket. He gave it to you, draping it over your shoulders. The scent of him instantly enveloped you—a mouth watering masculine mixture of clean soap, woodiness, and musk. It was far more intoxicating than the scotch you had tried back inside the bar. He didn’t utter a word to you as he wrapped his jacket around your body, both of his hands pulling gently at the lapels to bring them together in front of your chest. That was when you glanced down and saw he’d injured his hand. You gasped lightly. “Are you okay?”
Maybe it was the adrenaline, but Joel hadn’t even noticed that he’d split his knuckles wide open. Giving it a light shake, he assured you gruffly, “M’fine.”
Without thinking it through, you gingerly grabbed Joel’s hand, holding it in both of yours. “It doesn’t look like nothing,” you countered. You inspected it as best as you could in such poor lighting. “You’re bleeding.”
“Trust me, I’ve had a whole lot worse,” he deadpanned.
Ignoring his remark, you asked, “Can you move all your fingers for me? Just to make sure that it isn’t broken?”
Joel felt a strange warmth radiate in his chest. 
Fucking hell, Tommy had been right about you. 
You really were too good.
“Darlin’ I already told you m’fine—”
“Please?”
That word, and the way you’d said it, sent a shiver up the length of his spine.
Joel started wiggling his fingers in your palms. He winced slightly at the soreness. More than that, he knew his cuts and bruises would be all the fucking proof Tommy and Maria would need to know that he had been the one who rearranged Kent’s face. 
“See?” He spoke after a minute as he continued to move his fingers up and down. “Ain’t broken.”
“Let me clean you up,” you offered. Looking up at him, you cradled his hand as if it were a fragile baby bird you wanted to take home and nurse back to health.
“That really ain’t necessary.”
“You just saved me from—it’s the least I can do for you,” you insisted. Seeing him open his mouth just to protest again, you cut him off. “Please?”
There it was again.
Christ. That word sounded too good coming from those plush, pretty lips of yours. 
Joel sighed out in defeat. “Alright then,” he relented. “I s’ppose there ain’t no harm in lettin’ you clean me up a bit, little dove.”
Pleased that he had finally accepted, you carefully let go of his hand and took a step back, beckoning for him to follow you. “Come with me,” you said to him. “I know somewhere private we can go.”
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When you came to a stop at the old church house, Joel shook his head and took a step backwards. 
Puzzled, your brows knitted together. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
He backed away further. “I ain’t goin’ in there.” 
You tossed him an amused glance. “It’s a church.”
“Yeah, I know that. I ain’t exactly a man of God.” 
You couldn’t help but giggle. “So? What does that have to do with me taking you inside to clean your hand up for you?”
Shuffling his weight from boot to boot, Joel shrugged. “Just don’t think I belong in there, that’s all.”
“Do you think you’re going to melt if you step foot inside?” you teased him. After a minute, it became apparent that he was being serious about it. Joel’s discomfort about going inside the church wasn’t some kind of joke on his part, it was real. “Don’t be silly. It doesn’t matter that you’re not a man of God. That doesn’t mean that you’re going to explode or burn into a pile of ashes for going inside, you know.”
“After all the terrible shit I’ve done?” He looked up at the building, shaking his head again. “I just might burn, little dove.”
You bit back a small smile. You’d already grown to be quite fond of his sweet nickname for you. 
“There’s a first aid kit inside I can use to patch you up,” you told him. “It won’t take long, I promise.”
His lower lip rolled in between teeth as he thought it over. “I ain’t too sure about this—”
“It’s only going to take me five minutes to get your hand cleaned up and then you can leave. Okay?”
You were as stubborn as you were sweet. How the fuck was he supposed to say no to you?
Reluctantly, Joel finally agreed to it. “Okay.” He followed you up the creaking, wooden porch steps towards the double doors. He’d just started to wonder how the two of you were even supposed to get into the building after hours when you leaned down, lifting the old mat on the floor to reveal a set of keys. Unable to help himself, he scoffed, “Serious?”
“Doesn’t everyone keep a key under their mat?” 
“Yeah at their fuckin’ house. Not their church.” 
“Well to be fair, this is kind of like a second home. I spend quite a bit of time here,” you confessed.
Joel raised an eyebrow at you. “So much time that you’ve decided to keep a set of keys under the mat?”
Sheepishly, you nodded. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night, I’ll come here alone and sit with my thoughts for a while.” You shrugged. “Maria let me have the spare set of keys. She knows I come here and so does the rest of the council. I trespass with their full permission,” you kidded with a small grin. 
Unlocking one of the two doors, you stepped over the threshold and waited expectantly for Joel. But he stood there, making no move to join you on the other side. 
“This place gives me the fuckin’ creeps,” he admitted. 
You laughed. “It’s only the outside that’s creepy, I promise.”
Grimacing, Joel finally walked inside, his back and shoulders stiff with tension as he stepped into the place of worship. 
You closed the door and flipped on the lights, then opened a second set of double doors with another key from the ring. 
“Whoa.” He was pleasantly surprised. For as old as this place was, the interior of the church was quite nice. He could tell that it had been well cared for in its lifetime—the former contractor in him had little choice but to appreciate the high ceiling, the large windows, and the satin finish of the white paint on the rustic, wooden panel walls. 
There were a total of twelve pews, six on each side of the church. There was an older, antique piano in pristine condition nestled over in one corner of the room and in another, there was a large chalkboard propped up on a wooden easel, biblical verses that had been the focus of the congregation’s previous gathering still scribbled across it in white chalk. 
“See?” You nudged his arm with your elbow. “This isn’t so awful, right?”
“S’ppose it ain’t all that bad,” he muttered. 
Your eyes twinkled with pure amusement, adding, “And you didn’t burn into a pile of ashes.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Joel grumbled out in response. “Can we just get this over with so I can get outta here?”
You tossed him a playful little eye roll then nodded towards the pews. “Go ahead and just have a seat anywhere,” you instructed him. “I’ll be right back.”
You disappeared down a short, dimly lit corridor.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel slowly made his way down the aisle holding his injured hand against his chest. Now that the adrenaline had started wearing off, it’d started throbbing with pain.
There was an altar at the front of the church—if he could even call it an altar. 
It was a plain oakwood table with a white fair linen cloth draped over it and nothing else. 
Above it, bolted onto the wall, was a wooden cross.
He averted his eyes, turning away from it. 
Of all the shit to be intimidated by in this world. 
A fucking slab of carved wood. 
Joel’s attention shifted over to the chalkboard. He squinted at it, silently reading the verse to himself.
God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability. 1 Corinthians 10:13
“But with the temptation, he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it,” you recited the rest of the verse from behind him.
“No offense darlin’, but it sounds like nothin’ but a whole lotta gibberish to me,” he remarked to you over his shoulder. 
“No offense taken, Joel.”
Whirling around on the heel of his worn boot, Joel blurted, “How did you know my name?”
“You’re Tommy Miller’s brother. Everybody in this town knows your name.” You held up the white tin box in your hands. A big, red cross had been spray painted onto the lid. You sat down in the first pew and patted the seat right beside you. “Come sit.”
He sauntered over and dropped down next to you, watching as you opened up the box and started digging through its contents. “You know my name,” he stated after a few seconds of silence. “Sure would be nice for me to know yours.”
Smiling politely, you told him your name.
Joel repeated it. It rolled almost too sweetly off his tongue.
“S’real pretty, little dove. Just like you.”
His compliment nearly knocked all of the air out of your lungs and for a split second, you have to remind yourself to breathe.
Cheeks burning, you murmured a small thank you and plucked a bottle of saline solution from the kit along with a piece of clean cotton. You tried not to think about the way his eyes were fixed intently on you as you unscrewed the cap and poured a bit of the liquid onto the cotton. “It shouldn’t sting,” you reassured him, reaching for Joel’s injured hand. It was rough and calloused, a stark contrast against your own soft and smooth. You set his hand down on your knee, a strange sensation fluttering in the depths of your lower belly when the warmth of his skin seeped right through the fabric of your skirt. 
Comfortable silence fell over the both of you like a curtain as you started cleaning the blood off of his knuckles and his long, thick fingers. 
“You really believe in all this stuff?” Joel spoke, his question echoing off the bare walls of the church. 
You continued dabbing at his cuts, thinking it over in your head for a moment.
“I honestly don’t know,” you admitted.
Your answer took him by complete surprise.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I have always been taught to believe in God, Joel. It’s all that I’ve ever known. I grew up in a religious community,” you explained to him, making sure to keep your eyes focused on his hand. Tossing aside the bloodied wad of cotton, you picked up another piece adding more saline to it. “After the outbreak, things changed, of course. I couldn’t imagine how He could let something like this happen. When we lost our mother to infection about five years ago, I stopped praying. I finally stopped holding onto the ounce of hope I had that He would make the world right again. I refused to believe in God. Sometimes I still do,” you confessed quietly.
“You said you spend a lot of time here. Why come to church if you’re not even sure you believe in any of this shit anymore?”
“I’m always here because there’s still a part of me that thinks there’s a chance for me to believe again. When I told you I come here when I can’t sleep at night, it’s true. It’s my time to be here completely alone, the time that I use to mend my broken relationship with God. Or at least, I’ve been trying to mend it.” Taking a little glass pot of homemade antibiotic ointment one of the women in the town made and traded, you took off the lid and scooped out some of the salve with the tip of your finger. You applied it carefully to his cuts and continued, “But lately, the more that I try to pray and talk to Him, the more foolish I feel. It’s just not working. It hasn’t been working for a long, long time.”
“Then why keep tryin’ if it ain’t workin’ anymore?”
“Because I don’t really have much of a choice.”
“Your old man?” Joel guessed, wincing slightly as you went over a particularly sore spot on his hand, right over the torn up knuckle of his index finger. 
“Mhm.” You nodded. “My father never lost faith in Him. He knows how I feel, but he refuses to let me give up on God. He won’t ever let me miss church or go to bed without reciting my nightly prayer. He won’t let me abandon our faith. Not until the day he is cold and buried in his grave.”
“So what I’m gettin’ is that he forces you?”
You finished applying the ointment and wiped the remnants lingering on your finger off on your skirt.
“Force is such a harsh word. I wouldn’t say that—”
“He’s forcin’ you,” Joel said, flatly. 
“Joel—”
“You can twist it however the hell you want, sweet girl,” he cut you off. “But if you’re tryin’ this fuckin’ hard to make yourself believe in somethin’ just for the sake of appeasin’ your dad because he can’t or won’t accept how you really feel ‘bout all this, well I hate to break it to you, but you’re bein’ forced.”
Your eyes widened ever so slightly at his words. 
You had never thought about it like that before.
Placing the lid back onto the pot of ointment, you put it back into the first aid kit and then set the tin box down onto the floor. You sat back and clasped your hands together in your lap, not knowing what else to say to him. 
He was right, after all. 
Joel’s fingers lightly squeezed your knee. “Hey.”
You brought your gaze over to meet his. “Hm?”
“Can I ask you somethin’ ‘bout your dad?”
“What is it?” 
Joel chose his words carefully. “Has he ever—he ain’t ever done anythin’ to hurt you, has he?” he asked you, earning himself a perplexed stare. He continued to elaborate. “What I mean is, he ever put his hands on you or anythin’ like that?”
Oh. That’s what he meant.
“Never,” you assured him quickly. “He would never lay a single finger on me or my two sisters.”
He gave your knee another squeeze. “Just needed to make sure of it, sweetheart. Back in the day, I used to hear and see awful things on the news ‘bout—”
You were quick to cut him off. “Look, my father isn’t perfect, but he’s not like that. He’s a good man who only wants what is best for us. He’s strict and he can be tough, but it’s only because he cares. He just doesn’t want us running down the wrong path.”
“The wrong path?”
You shrugged. “Life here in Jackson is decent, but there’s a lot of temptations he doesn’t want any of us falling into. He wants to protect us.”
“By controllin’ you.” 
It had been a statement, not a question. 
Giving him a wry smile, you assured him, “Joel, it’s really not as bad as you’re making it sound. I could be a whole lot worse off than this, you know.”
There was another short bout of silence.
Joel’s dark eyes fell to your blouse, noticing how a couple of the top buttons had come undone. 
He caught the slightest glimpse of the soft curves of your breasts—all it had taken was just a peek at them for his cock to twitch against the zipper of his jeans.
Don’t you get hard in a fuckin’ church, Miller.
His gaze wandered down a little further and that’s when he caught sight of the cross hanging from a delicate gold chain clasped around your neck.
Joel expected the sight of it to calm the straining in his jeans. Somehow, it only made it worse. 
“Earlier, when we were standing outside,” you had started to say, “You said you might burn if you came inside the church because of all the terrible shi—things that you’ve done.”
“S’right.”
You peered at him with curiosity. “So what exactly have you done, Joel?”
Joel leaned back into the pew, shaking his head at you as he finally pulled his hand from your knee. 
“You really don’t wanna know, little dove.”
“Why not?”
His answer was honest.  “Don’t want you to be scared of me.”
Angling your body towards him, you placed one of your hands on his thigh. Your fingers burned right through the dark blue denim of his jeans.
Joel’s lips parted slightly, taken aback by the bold move and the sudden shift in your demeanor.
Were you the same girl who’d nearly had a fucking heart attack a couple of weeks ago when Joel had nodded at you back at the stables? 
“I’m not scared of you,” you murmured, softly. You gave his leg a squeeze, pulling your plump bottom lip between your teeth. Between that and the wide innocent doe eyes that you were giving him, it was taking every last ounce of strength Joel had inside him to keep a straight face, to pretend you weren’t driving him absolutely wild with desire.
He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt such an incredible need to have someone. 
Want, sure. 
He had wanted Tess. He had wanted Esther. 
But Joel didn’t just want you. 
He fucking needed you. 
And he didn’t know why.
“I’m not scared of you,” you repeated, trailing your hand further up his thigh, setting a fire neither one of you would soon be able to contain. 
Joel leaned forward, bringing his face dangerously close towards yours. His warm breath fanned over your lips. It was still laced with bourbon. “You sure ‘bout that, darlin’ girl?” 
You tried to answer him in the steadiest voice that you could muster, but it was impossible for you to hide the effect this man had on you. 
You breathed out a shaky, “I’m sure.”
Lifting his uninjured hand, he reached up to tuck a loose lock of hair that had fallen out of your braids behind your ear. As his hand fell away, the palm of it grazed against the silkiness of your cheek. 
Though brief, the contact sent an electric current through each and every last single nerve ending in your entire body. 
Exhaling sharply, your eyelids fluttered closed. You nearly whimpered out his name. “Joel?”
“What is it, babygirl? What do you want?”
“I—I want you to kiss me.” 
Joel leaned in even closer, stopping only when his mouth was less than an inch away from yours. 
You heard him chuckle softly. 
“Y’know, I’d expect better manners from a good girl like you,” he tsked lightly, his nose skimming near the corner of your mouth. Closer. “What’s the magic word, little dove?”
“Please.”
“S’much better.”
Your heart pounded with anticipation.
It was almost too much for you to handle. 
Joel closed the remaining gap of space, capturing your lips with his own. He remembered his brother talking about you at the bar—how he had told Joel that you had never even held a man’s hand before.
It occurred to him that he was giving you your first kiss. Him. Joel Miller. The town’s resident asshole and a man who was well over twice your own age. He was the one giving you your very first kiss. 
The guilt suddenly started to creep in, sinking into his bones.
What the fuck had he been thinking? 
And what about you? 
Where the fuck had your common sense gone?
Probably ran off together with Joel’s.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling away slightly in an attempt to stop it from going any further. He tried again, mumbling against your lips, “We gotta stop. This ain’t right—”
You were having none of it. 
None. 
Clutching fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt, you swung your leg over his thighs and straddled his lap. Your knees rested on either side of him on the bench. 
“Please,” you nearly pleaded. “Just kiss me. I want it—I want this. I promise you that I do.” You placed both of your hands on his broad shoulders, sliding them around him as you slowly sank down further onto his lap. “I want this, Joel.”
Suddenly, he realized that you were asking him for more than just his kiss. 
Now he knew for sure that all common sense had left that pretty little head of yours. 
“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”
Desperate, you uttered one final, “Please.”
Joel bit back a groan. How could he deny you? 
He couldn’t. Simple as that. 
“You sure ‘bout this?”
Your fingers toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Yes. I’m sure.”
“C’mere then, darlin’ girl.”
Joel cupped the side of your face in his large palm and tilted his head up towards yours. Your mouths fused together and although he tried to be gentle, it was proving to be much too difficult—how could he be gentle when you were practically clinging to him? Holding onto him with fervor as if you’d been holding onto dear fucking life itself? 
Temperatures rising, you quickly shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you with a soft thud before wrapping your arms around him once again. You melted against him as your mouth molded to his in a perfect fit. 
His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore the cavern even further. 
Eagerly, your lips parted, granting him access. His tongue slipped past them, meeting yours in a slow and sensual heated dance. 
You breathed him deeply into your lungs, a little moan vibrating at the back of your throat. 
Joel’s hands went to your waist and he yanked the hem of your blouse free from your skirt. 
“Can I feel you, baby?” he asked, breathlessly. His mouth abandoned yours and he began to trail hot, open mouthed kisses underneath your jawline. 
Dazed, all you could do was nod in reply and utter, “Mhm.”
Joel’s hands slipped under your blouse and he slid them up the length of your sides. “Fuck, you gotta be the softest fuckin’ thing,” he cursed against the delicate, tender flesh of your neck. His lips latched onto your pulse point, suckling at the skin there as his fingertips dug into your hips. He needed to feel more, but he forced himself to wait. The last thing he wanted to do was make a wrong move or move too fast and scare you off.
“Joel,” you mewled his name. “Joel, I need—”
You trailed off, moaning when his mouth released your skin with a loud, wet popping noise. 
“Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you,” he promised. “Anythin’ you need or want, I’ll give it to you. Just say the fuckin’ word.”
“You, Joel. I need you.”
His hips involuntarily bucked upwards and you let out a startled gasp the moment you felt his bulge, hard as a rock, brush against your clothed cunt. 
Tearing away from him, it suddenly hit you. You’re in a church, straddling a much, much older man in a pew—and if that wasn’t sinful enough, the warm and slick arousal pooling between your thighs only proved that you were ready to fall into temptation, give into the lust and give your body to Joel. But it was none of those things that worried you. It was something else. 
You pulled yourself out of his arms and jumped up off his lap, nearly tripping over your own two feet.
“Darlin’ are you—?”
You didn’t even hear the rest of his question.
Knees trembling, you somehow managed to make your way up to the altar. Heart pounding and head spinning, you planted both of your hands firmly on the table and steadied yourself. Part of you hoped that Joel would just get up and leave. But a bigger part of you hoped he wouldn’t. 
Joel rose to his feet. “Listen, ain’t nothin’ wrong if you changed your mind, alright?”
“I didn’t,” you choked out. “That’s—that’s not it at all.”
“Then what’s the matter?”
Embarrassed, you tried to explain yourself. “I have never done anything like this before. I’m a—”
You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word out loud. 
“You’re a what?”
Blazing heat flooded your face. “Joel, please don’t make me say it,” you groaned. “For the sake of my sanity, don’t make me say it.” You heard the sound of his brown leather boots as he walked up behind you, one heavy footstep after the other.
“Turn around, sweet girl.” 
Joel’s command was firm but still gentle. 
Swallowing dryly, you obeyed and did as you were told. He stood close and you found yourself at eye level with his chest. 
“Look at me.”
You tried, but couldn’t. 
“I said, look at me.” Joel gingerly took your chin in between his thumb and index finger. He lifted your face, forcing your gaze to meet his own, timid and submissive meeting bold and dominant in a sweet and tender exchange. “Never known the lovin’ of a man, have you little dove?”
He backed you up against the table, pinning you in between it and himself. Planting both of his hands on either side of you, he caged you in and brought his chest flush against yours, pressing your bodies together.
Close, but somehow not close enough.
Joel lifted his hand to your cheek, cradling it in his palm. His thumb swept over your quivering bottom lip.
You reached behind you, clutching at the fair linen as you tried with every fiber of your entire being to remind yourself that you were standing at the altar where your father preached and delivered all of his sermons to the faithful people of Jackson. 
The very same altar where your father encouraged you to kneel and pray in effort to mend the broken relationship you had with God. 
You couldn’t help but to think if you were to get on your knees tonight, it wouldn’t be for prayer.
“I asked you a question, darlin’.” Joel’s voice broke into your train of thought. “Need you to be a good girl and give me an answer, alright?”
“My father loves me,” you stammered out in reply. “He loves me and my sisters—”
“C’mon, babygirl.” He chuckled and shook his head at you, lightly pinching your cheek. “That ain’t what I mean and you damn well know it.”
Sighing softly, you finally answered, “No, Joel.”
“No, what?”
“No, I’ve never known the loving of a man.”
Joel slipped the tip of his thumb between your lips and leaned into you, his hardness pressing against your upper thigh. Even through all the clothes, you could feel every inch of him. “Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? What it feels like when a man makes you his own?” 
You nearly moaned around his finger. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” he prompted, pulling his hand away.
“Yes, please.”
“I can show you.” Joel paused. “But not tonight.”
You stared at him in disbelief. Both of you were so clearly riled up and he was going to take a pass?
He almost laughed at your expression. 
“C’mon, don’t give me that face.”
“But Joel—”
“Just don’t wanna rush it, not with you,” Joel said in a tone so soft it nearly threw you for a loop. “M’gonna need you to be real patient for me, just for a little while, alright? You think you can do that, little dove? Think you can be patient for me?”
Your answer came without an ounce of hesitation.
“Of course,” you breathed.
You would wait an eternity for Joel Miller.
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