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kiwisbell · 4 months

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yellow bird [joel miller]

Taking the weight off your shoulders.

whiskey sour masterlist | my masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

tags/warnings: 18+ (MDNI), dbf!joel, age gap (20s/40s), sexual frustration, academic-validation-to-praise-kink pipeline, these two are in lurvvvv, thigh riding, joel talks you through it, and maybe reveals a side of him we haven't seen yet, a lil fluid exchange, some sweet sappy talk because it's them what do we expect, pure self-indulgence, that’s about it

word count: ~ 2.7k

a/n: this was mine and @cavillscurls's challenge to myself to write somethin short and sweet, thank you mya for being a cheerleader throughout this whole process. and thank you hugely el @northernbluess for last-minute beta reading and telling me it does not(?), in fact, suck dick n cock. i envision this as part of the whiskey sour-verse, but you don't need to read the series to understand what's going on here! this honestly makes me super fucking nervy to post, but i hope you enjoy. xoxo

read on ao3!

follow @kiwisbellupdates and turn on notifications if you'd like to be notified when i post a fic!

The moon is carving a path through the darkening sky, and you’ve been quiet for hours.

You sit at the dining table with your cheek in your palm, lidded eyes flitting relentlessly from one side of the page to another. Every couple minutes, you jot down some notes on your cue cards. Your coffee lies untouched next to your textbook.

Each slash of pen across paper cuts into his chest. You write in bursts of furious energy, the paper sometimes bunching under your fist, black ink smearing—you only ever write in black—one letter into the next. Your jerky looping letters resemble nothing close to your penmanship. Your sentences are punctuated by squiggles rather than dots. The corners of your eyes are moist, your skin glowing gold under a filtered smattering of light from the street lamps outside.

There's a tight line to the curve of your mouth, a gash of colour where your lipstick has faded. Weariness dulls the shimmer in your eye. You keep writing.

“Thought you were goin’ out with your friends tonight,” says Joel.

“Hmm?” You blink slowly, the sound of his voice dragging your gaze toward Joel: dressed in jeans and an olive flannel (a gift from you), he's watching you study, a worried slash between his brows. “Oh,” you say. “No. I bailed.”

A flare of his nostrils as he approaches you from the coffee station is the only indication he gives that he's frustrated. “You’ve been workin’ all day, baby. You haven't eaten.” He slides his coffee mug toward you and switches it with your own. “Here, take mine. Yours is gettin’ cold.”

You start to shake your head. “Joel, it’s—”

“It's either you drink mine,” he says, sliding the milk and sugar toward you, “or you take a break.”

You narrow your eyes. “You hate my coffee.”

“Relationships are sacrifice. C’mere.” He yanks the leg of your chair toward him until you're sitting beside one another. He dips his mouth to your temple, and sleep begins to tug at your eyelids. Still, you keep your books open, if not partially out of spite, as Joel drinks your too-sweet coffee and hides his grimace.

“You hate it.”

Joel’s eyes slide to you over the rim of his cup, his chest pulling taut at the sight of the unshed tear on the outer corner of your eye, teetering.

Your bottom lip wobbles, your last Sisyphean effort to hold the droplet of water at bay, and Joel sets down the mug.

“You hate my coffee,” you whisper, not meeting his eye.

It's the press of his hand to your lower back that makes your fingers tremble, curled tightly around your pen. “There are worse things I’d do for you than drink shitty coffee.”

“So you admit it's shitty.”

His fingers dance up and down your lower vertebrae. “You’re exhausted,” he says softly, his mouth grazing your shoulder. “Come and take a break. Can feel all that tension, sweetheart. Right—”

The warm press of his palm between your shoulder blades. The simple touch ignites pressure behind your nose.

“—here,” he finishes with the pinch of his thumb and forefinger around your brain stem.

Your head lolls gently in his direction. “I know what you're doing.”

An innocent sound pitches out of his throat. “Do you?”

Your lashes flutter as he begins to dig his palm into the tense balls of muscle in your back. The contact, warm and almost gentle, undoes you. The pearl stuck in your lashes shakes free.

The impact of it carving a path down your cheek strikes his heart true. “C’mere, baby.”

Pulling you reluctantly away from your workbooks, Joel sits on the couch and guides you on top of him, your thighs hugging his hips. “This sad face,” he says under his breath, brushing the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. “So pretty when you’re sad.” Your eyes dip when his stubble ghosts across your jaw, his lips warming the shell of your ear.

You huff, your arms winding around his neck. “You’re wandering into patronising, Miller.”

“Hmm, big words.” His grin carves its shape into your skin. He nips the spot just below your ear and you gasp, your fingers curling in the locks at the nape of his neck. “Told you, baby—such a smart girl.”

You open your mouth to snip at him, but he’s sliding one big, rough hand underneath your silky shorts and pinching your ass. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he says, his pinky finger dipping under your waistband.

“I’m fine,” you grumble, wriggling on his lap. He hums, the downward curve of his mouth on your skin etched in skepticism, his hands pulling you tighter to him.

“Tell me what’s wrong, baby.” His hand slides up your spine, lifting your little silk shirt, the hardness of him caging you in. “Tell me so I can fix it.”

You're gooey and pliant on top of him, hips flexing to fix your thighs around his waist, your body attuned to him in a way you refuse to fight. Joel Miller is yours. He’s always had your back.

“I’m tired, Joel. I keep bombing these stupid fucking tests, and the new guy at work is incompetent, and I haven't had an orgasm in a whole week.”

Sometimes, you're surprised by how deeply you envy your Joel for being so fucking right. For knowing, even when you don't, how deeply your wounds sit.

He frowns up at you, his thumb caressing the curve of your jaw, guilt and understanding pinching his ribs. “And I’ve been workin’ late,” he says.

Silently, you nod, fisting the hem of his shirt. “But that's okay, Joel. I know you work hard. It's not your job to—”

He shakes his head, trailing his hands up and down your soft thighs. “I’ve been workin’ late,” he repeats, his voice thinning, “and I haven't been treating my girl like she deserves.”

Your cheeks warm at the way his hands reach your inner thighs, thumbs ghosting across your hip bones. “That's not true.”

“Baby, you look at me.” He cups you like warm wax and you're melting just the same, gaze sliding up to meet his. Brown, glinting gold as they catch the orange lamplight, his eyes don't leave you. “You need to come?”

Your mouth drops. You really fucking do. If he notices your slip—the way your hips still on his lap, your arms wound tight around his shoulders—he doesn't say nor soothe. “Joel, I didn’t mean to—”

He quiets you with a loving nip at your chin. “You wanna be a good girl?”

A shudder railroads down your vertebrae. Your core is tight, hot, your little pyjama shorts shifting over your pussy, velvet-soft. “Joel, you really don't have to—”

“You wanna come?” he says again, his teeth scraping the shell of your ear before he takes your lobe between them. You gasp, clutching him tight to you, a buoy bobbing above the torrent.

“Yes,” you tell him, breathless, letting him play with the waistband of your shorts. “Yes. I need to come so badly. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m a bad man, takin’ my girl for granted.”

It’s not true, he’d never, has not once, and still you whimper at the sound of my girl on his tongue.

“You are a bad man,” you tell him, halfheartedly shoving him in the chest.

“And?” he prompts, drawing the poison from the wound.

“And I need to come.”

Joel’s mouth curves in understanding, the hairs of his moustache bristling in the corners.

“Take ‘em off,” he says. “Let me be good to you.”

You ease your thighs out of your silk shorts, and Joel’s got his hands on your shirt, lifting it up and over your head. A cool shiver snakes from your cool feet, now on the floor as you stand naked before him, to the scruff of your neck. It longs for the touch of his fingers.

“God, you're fuckin’ beautiful.” Joel takes your outstretched hand, tugging you toward him. His palms smooth over the planes of your torso, thick fingers fitting to your ribs, the follower at the altar. It's only when he touches the small of your back that his eyes abstain from their reverent path across your body and meet yours.

“Tell me what you want,” he says plainly, fingers catching at the ends of your hair.

You crowd him, gaze sweeping down his body at the hard length of his cock down his thick thighs and the utter stillness of him when met with your type-A jitters.

“To be your good girl,” you say.

“I know.” It's a whisper in the quiet. Somewhere, distantly, the dishwasher churns through its cycle. A car horn blares. Wind blows. “Sit down.”

You go eagerly to him, your spirit alight with his closeness, the scent of pine and sawdust from a long day’s work, the soft cotton of his flannel, the scrape of his denim along your thighs. Wordlessly, Joel shifts you until you're straddling one of his thighs.

The jolt of pressure to your clit makes you gasp, clawing for purchase on his chest. Your fists wrap around the lining of his flannel.

Oh, God is the vague chant that eats at his liver, chewing on the ripe mass, the wound sealing over to deliver himself once again at your feet. It’s tossed into the space between you, maybe a little blasphemous, maybe thoughtless. It’s the glassy film over your eyes, those irises he could trace in the dark, the call of love that never quiets.

“Feel good?”

The smug bastard. His hand is still soft and sweet on your spine, climbing high only to drop, no longer meeting the resistance of clothing. The cool air puckers your nipples, your body tightening as you pull in on yourself.

“You remember that first night?” he says softly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You were so cold, baby. All alone and needin' a good strong hand.”

He squeezes your ass, forcing your hips to shift over his leg. The slow grind of your wet seam along the coarse denim makes your thighs tremble. “Fuck,” you whisper. “That's… that’s good.”

He hums like he knows. “You remember what you did that night?” he asks. “Climbed on me, just like this, and made yourself feel good. Thought I’d come in my pants then and there.”

Your breathless laugh hitches in your throat as your hips begin to grind down of their own volition. The friction is rough, unkind, nothing like the gentle press of his hands on your bare skin. Sweat begins to glisten in the hollow of your throat as you throw your head back and lose yourself in the rhythmic roll of your body over his thigh.

“That's it,” he grunts, squeezing your hips, his cock twitching, untouched, in his boxers. You’re smearing your wetness over the denim, washing it dark, letting the light shift over your writhing body. “That's my pretty girl, usin’ me like you need to.”

“Ah, fuck,” you cry out, bearing down the weight of you on his leg, grinding hard against him as you seek your own pleasure.

“Let's hear it,” he urges, gritting his teeth at the sight of your poor swollen clit, needy and glistening, exposed. “Lemme have it, baby girl, c’mon.”

Your moan is strangled, language muddied in your head as Joel surges upright and latches his mouth around your nipple. Biting and sucking raw, his rapacious mouth is warm nectar that pools hot in your belly, his hands coaxing your hips through their movements, guiding you in the dance nonetheless.

“I'm your good girl,” you rasp, the coil pulling tight at the base of your stomach, the hollow bowl filling to the brim, keeping him, coveting him.

“That's right. My good girl.” His hot breath blooms like possessive fingers where his mouth makes contact on your throat, plucking your nerve endings like a bushel of daisies.

“I can feel you, baby girl,” he groans into your throat. “I can feel your tight fuckin’ cunt gettin’ me all wet. Feel you grabbin’ me like a goddamn cat. You close, huh?”

You whimper, your nails scratching at his chest through the fabric of his shirt, your stomach taut as you approach your high, bucking your hips hard against his leg. “Fuck, Joel, fuck! I’m so close—”

“Tell me who you are.”

“I’m a good girl.” You wind your arms around his neck as you begin to list, your breasts pressing into his chest, closeness sparking to flame as your warmth rubs up against him.

He’s steadfast, thick arms holding you upright, as he groans your name into your ear like it's something blasphemous. “Who are you?” he repeats.

“I’m your good girl, Joel! Fuck, I’m yours, your good girl. Oh, God, Joel, please…”

“That's right, sweetheart.” His hand latches around the nape of your neck, slick with sweat, while you bury your face in his throat. “My good girl’s gonna come all over me again, because that's what good girls do, hmm? They make themselves feel good when their bad men go and forget their place.”

You sob his name into the crook of his neck, the friction etching too much into your sore, rubbed-raw flesh. Your thighs hug him tight, hips thrashing hard above him as you come with a shout, your wet mouth dragging along the vein pulsing in his throat and trailing saliva in its wake. Joel doesn’t seem to care, coaxing you through your high when it starts to last a little longer than normal, pulling you so close that you can hardly remember your shape when it’s not slotting into him.

There's a dark spot spreading over his jeans, and your inner thighs are sticky with release. Joel tilts your chin up with his mouth, littering kisses from your jaw to the hollow of your throat. His tongue darts out playfully as his fingers dip between your bodies and tease through your messy slit.

“Joel,” you gasp, your face warm. He lifts two soaked fingers to his mouth and cleans them off with a couple swirls of his tongue.

And he's kissing you before you can retreat into yourself. He turns you inside-out, bares your soul to him, and all you can do is taste the sweet tang of the release you gave yourself.

Your tongues tangle, languid in your mutual exploration, the push-and-pull you've always known. By the time he pulls away to press his lips to your forehead, you're decently sleepy, your muscles gooey and your body slumping sideways in his lap.

“Ruined your jeans,” you mumble.

His fingertips ghost up and down your spine. A cool shudder blooms from each point of contact. He’s still hard, enough that it must ache, but he makes no move to free himself. “I like ‘em this way,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Such an idiot.”

Clicking his tongue, Joel says, “You treat your elders this way?”

You nip his nose. “Only when they’re sweet on me.”

He chuckles, brushing your hair behind your ear so he can kiss your temple. “You feel okay?”

Your hands slide up his chest, hooking around his neck, your fingers threading together in his hair. “I feel like a million bucks, baby. But next time, you can come inside me.”

The purr registering in your chest has him preening under the attention, his hands coming to rest just above your ass. “I’m gonna tell you what’s going to happen tonight,” he says, ignoring your apprehensive glare. “You're gonna put away your books, and eat a good dinner, which I’ll make, and you’ll rest.”

Your Joel is stubborn in his own way, and it shows in the tension above his brow, the splaying of his hand over your back. You reach for him and smooth out his frown with your thumb. “I’ll do whatever you say, Joel Miller. As long as you make my favourite.”

You could drown happily in the way he smiles. It always comes on slow, like he isn't quite sure of himself, but it will glow in his eyes. It will sing through him like a light through glass.

“Yeah,” he says, “I can do that.”

Your blood calls to him. And you could do it all without him, sure—but he won’t let you.

THE END.

#posting this and running #kiwisbell's fics #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #whiskey sour #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel #pedro pascal #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fluff

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noneorother · 14 days

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I bought Aziraphale's Bible so you don't have to.

Am I insane? Yes. Was it worth it? Maybe. In most* of both season 1 and season 2 of GO, there's a very specific Bible on a bookstand next to Aziraphale's desk. It's a vintage illustrated plate book by Harold Copping, known as the Harold Copping Bible, published by the religious tract society in London in 1910. It features some of the most well known Old Testament stories, summarized and annotated by the Bishop of Durham at the time, and illustrated by Copping, who was freshly returned from a sojourn in the middle east. Ironically, It was meant as a lay-person's version of a comic book, short, exciting by use of exotic illustrations, and easy to read.

But my (expensive) gain is now your gain! As I've collected here every visible page in both seasons for your reading and viewing pleasure.

Season 1: All episodes Adam & Eve Genesis iii (1:3) / HCB page 10

Season 2: Episode 1 Joseph known to his brethren Genesis xlv (1:45) / HCB Page 28

S2E1 14:21, S2E1 17:41, S2E1 39:45

Season 2: Episode 2 Jacob's vow Genesis xxviii (1:28) / HCB Page 22

S2E2 5:49

Season 2: Episode 2 Joseph known to his brethren Genesis xlv (1:45) / HCB Page 28

S2E2 13:38 (see S2E1 above)

Season 2: Episode 2 The Brazen Serpent Numbers xxi (4:21) / HCB page 36

S2E2 16:12, 43:40

Season 2: Episode 2* Bible on the desk, Magazine on the stand Annuel L'art Pour Tous, Cover (1861-1880 most likely)

S2E2 22:10

The French L'art pour tous industrial design periodical will have to be a story for another post. For now, just enjoy this 1880 edition copperplate of cherubs discovering a microscope...

Season 2: Episode 2 Imaginary page from HCB, Job KJV Job (18:1) / HCB N/A

S2E2 22:29, S2E2 40:05 Obviously, the plate illustrations and text look different here than in the real bible, because they were created for the show. But there are a few more particularities here. For one, this layout with the thin grid around the text, as well as the paragraph symbol next to the first title, indicate that this would have been a printer's proof copy, not a finished book. It shows you the layout grid and can be annotated for changes. Second, there seems to be a war going on between fonts. Where the "chapter" of Job begins, we get a font and a style similar to the original bible, which gets rudely interrupted by a dropped capital (from the real book) and a Gothic-style font/verse numbers like in the original King James version of the printed Bible.

Season 2: Episode 3 The Brazen Serpent NUMBERS xxi (4:21) / HCB page 36

S2E3 1:18 (see episode 2)

Season 2: Episode 5 By the Rivers of Babylon Pslam cxxxvii (19:137) / HCB page 52

S2E5 21:20

Season 2: Episode 6 Bible missing, L'art pour Tous on the stand Annuel L'art Pour Tous, Cover (1861-1880 most likely)

S2E6 10:21, 17:21, 18:15, 34:28 (see episode 2)

Season 2: Episode 6 Closed HCB, L'art pour Tous on the stand behind HCB page 0

S2E6 37:58, 44:20, 48:08

#good omens 2 #art director talks good omens #good omens meta #go season 2 #go meta #good omens season 2 #good omens season two #good omens #go2 #good omens prime #aziraphale #crowley and aziraphale

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sexhaver · 3 months

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a few nights ago i went to my city's town hall meeting because they were voting on a resolution to call for a ceasefire in Gaza (mostly symbolic but our rep is close to biden) and like. jesus fuck dude participating in democracy is so exhausting

dude at the pre-meeting rally/speech session was passing out flyers about Bob Avakian. i vaguely remembered that being a cult so i googled it and ended up accidentally downloading a 256-page pdf titled "Against Avakianism". i love leftist infighting so much

one of the council members said he would be abstaining from voting because he's technically in the army and doesn't want to piss them off even though it would technically be legal for him to do

another one (George Scarpelli) said he would be abstaining and then immediately followed that up by reading a bunch of letters that "concerned constituents" had sent in to him about this bill. every single constituent was a zionist saying that calling for a ceasefire would "sow division" (?). this was in a format where public commentary was limited to 2 minutes per person, but council members had unlimited time, so these zionists were also bypassing the time limit because they know a guy on the council. eventually the moderator told him to cut that shit out so we could actually start

someone in the audience yelled "read letters from palestinians" and he replied something to the effect of "i talked to them but none of them submitted comments to me" and i shouted "gee i wonder why" and then he got really visibly mad and then the moderator moved everything along

only three people out of 40+ during the public commentary spoke against it. all of them mentioned "sowing division" (???). two of these people called in via zoom but one was dumb/brave enough to do that in person and everyone just stared at him in silence as he went back to his seat

the moderator had to stop three different people during public commentary to tell them that they technically weren't allowed to "address comments directly at any one member of the board". all three of these people were mad at George Scarpelli

multiple Palestinian speakers literally older than Israel talking about their friends and family who were killed and running up against the two-minute time limit because there were so many of them to list

Scarpelli ended up voting against it even though he said he would abstain

it passed anyways

i just learned this now while googling his name for this post but Scarpelli is a democrat? jesus fucking christ

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justagalwhowrites · 2 months

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TikTok Trend

Beautiful decides to take part in a TikTok Trend with Joel. A New in Town drabble.

^We're borrowing Mr. Ben for a late-40s Joel, OK? I desperately need more gifs of Pedro's Joel from that era, I'm too reliant on other characters and actual Pedro gifs for these fics GIVE ME SOMETHING PLEASE

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from New in Town

Warnings: Not much! Age gap but not the focus of the fic (reader is 36, Joel is 48). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 1.4k

A/N: I got stuck thinking earlier how Joel would react to the "call your boyfriend your husband" trend and this is how I think it'd go. This is set about 3 months before the last chapter of New in Town. This can be read as a stand alone fic with the understanding that reader is Sarah's best friend and Joel and Reader have an established relationship of about a year.

“So what’s this for again?” Joel asked as he sat down at the picnic table in the park.

“It’s a TikTok challenge,” you said, settling in beside him. Joel opened the paper bag the two of you had just gotten from a food truck and started taking out the tacos, putting some in front of you and him.

“Right,” he said. “And… I’m sorry, baby, but what’s the point?”

You laughed as you set your phone against your water bottle so it was propped up and ready to film.

“There isn’t really one, I guess,” you said. “It’s just a fun little video you make and then share. Those interns I have until May are all about it, they were showing me some of theirs the other day. Figure if I work in marketing, I gotta keep up with the trends!”

Joel smiled a little.

“So this is the kind of shit Sarah does, huh?”

“Yeah, she does,” you laughed again. “Her and the interns made one for the company social page the other day, actually.”

“Can I see?” He asked, interest suddenly piqued.

“Sure,” you picked your phone back up and found your company’s TikTok, scrolling to the video and handing it off to Joel.

“We work in marketing, of course we over analyze every ad we see,” Sarah said through your phone, a small smile on Joel’s face as he watched.

It made you smile, too. One of the fun parts about being in the strange middle ground between your boyfriend’s and best friend’s ages was serving as a bit of a translator between them. Joel still didn’t quite get TikTok. Sarah didn’t understand why her dad refused to go all in on streaming and still had cable. You, at least, could see both sides.

But this TikTok effort had nothing to do with Sarah. You did try to keep up with the trends on social media to better craft campaigns and content - capitalizing on trends meant that you had to move quick and you couldn’t afford to be out of touch - but your personal TikTok account was mostly empty. It was pretty private, anyway, shared with only a few close friends like Sarah and Maria. All it had were a few reposts of things you liked, some montages of video snippets from you and Joel’s first vacation together, that sort of thing.

“You should do some of the trends!” Jason, one of your interns, said earlier that day.

“Just being in the loop on trends is plenty for me,” you waved him off but smiled. “I don’t need to participate.”

“But it’s fun!” Kenzie, your other intern said. “They’re not all dances and stuff, you know…”

“I know,” you said. “But it’s just not what I want to spend a lot of time doing is all.”

“Some don’t take much time,” she said, opening her phone and scrolling for a second. “Here, this one’s easy. You said you have a boyfriend, right?”

“I do…”

“Cool,” she said. “So all you do is record yourself making a video where you call your boyfriend your husband, just to see how he reacts. No crazy edits or anything, it’s super easy.”

You caved after some light convincing and came up with a plan to get Joel in front of the camera. You told him it was a spicy food challenge, just to see which of you handled the heat better and, while you knew he wouldn’t really get the point, you knew he’d be supportive. He always was.

But there was something about this trend in particular that made you a little nervous. It’s not like the two of you hadn’t discussed marriage. You’d been together a year now, you’d just moved into his house. It had definitely come up. But it had come up in the way that far off things do, something that might happen some day if things fell into place in just the right way. You didn’t want to push it, didn’t want him to feel rushed or obligated, especially since you’d only been cohabitating about a month. Bringing up marriage - even like this - made you nervous.

“OK I think I get it,” Joel handed you your phone back after watching Sarah’s video twice. “But we’re not doin’ that same thing, right?”

“Nope,” you said. “We’re going to see who handles the spice better.”

“Think we both know which one of us is gonna win that one, Beautiful,” he teased, nuzzling his nose against your temple before kissing your cheek. “Us southern men are made of sterner stuff…”

“Yeah yeah,” you rolled your eyes but smiled, leaning close to him. “We’ll just see about that.”

You set your phone up to record again, propping it against your water bottle.

“Here, you gotta get in close because the TikTok format is vertical,” you said and Joel adjusted so you were half beside and half in front of him, his arm going around your waist, hand finding your hip, thumb slipping up below your shirt to find your bare flesh above the band of your pants and brushing you slowly, sensually there. You gave him a look.

“What?” He asked, brows raised, smile barely contained.

“Don’t act all innocent,” you shook your head. “You know exactly what you’re doing…”

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s make your little TikTik video…”

“TikTok,” you rolled your eyes but adjusted yourself, your heart pounding.

“Whatever the kids are using now,” he said. “Because the sooner we’re done the sooner I can get you home…”

“Alright, I’m going to record,” you cut him off. “Behave yourself!”

“Always do, Beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes again but took a deep breath, leaned forward and pressed record.

“Hi everyone,” you smiled, watching the recording of you and Joel as it was made on the screen. “I’m here with my husband and we’re going to do the spicy food challenge…”

“Your what?” He cut you off and you turned so you could see him a little better.

“What?”

“Did…” he paused, looking at you like he wasn’t sure if you were losing it or he was. You weren’t sure if that was good or bad. “Did you just call me your husband?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged, turning back to the camera. “Anyway, my husband and I both really love spicy food and…”

You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence. Joel grabbed your chin almost roughly, pulling you around to face him and all but crushed his lips against yours, clutching you close, kissing you deep and hard, like he couldn’t get enough of you. When he finally let you go, you looked at him and laughed a little, watching him.

“What was that for?” You asked.

“You wanna call me your husband?” He asked, a serious look on his face. “Beautiful, we will go to the courthouse right this damn second, don’t tempt me…”

“Joel, it’s 7 p.m.,” you laughed. “The courthouse is closed.”

“Don’t care,” he said, giving you a quicker kiss this time. “C’mon, we’ll grab Sarah on the way, see if Tommy wants to meet us…”

“That’s all it takes, hm?” You teased, heart pounding but for a good reason now. “Just me slipping up and calling you my husband and you’re ready to run down the aisle?”

“Baby, I’ve been ready to run down the aisle for about a year,” he pressed his forehead to yours. “Just been waitin’ on you to catch up.”

“Well,” you kissed him softly. “I’m more than caught up. But think I’m still gonna make you ask.”

“Good luck stopping me,” he said, kissing you again, longer this time, needier, until you pulled away with a groan. “Forget this food challenge, I gotta get you home and devour you. Let’s go, wife.”

You laughed and stopped the recording on your phone, saving the video to drafts as Joel gathered up the food. You made the mental note to edit out that last part before posting, no need for the interns or Sarah to know quite that much about your sex life.

“Sorry for ruining your little video,” he said as you started back toward the car. “We can try again later, promise to actually behave myself then…”

“That’s alright,” you smiled, lacing your fingers with his. “I already got everything I need.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #new in town

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hellishjoel · 7 months

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7.2k // pairing:dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

summary: Joel whisks you away to Houston for the weekend under the guise of a work trip. You keep a secret from him to try and keep your fling undetected from your parents. warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, dbf/neighbor!joel, smut, swearing, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel in his 40s), pet names, fingering, oral (f! receiving), unprotected p in v (shower sex hehe), a little overstim if you squint

A/N: sorry not sorry this chapter took a month+, but I hope you like it! A little drammaaaa. and a reminder, they still have all day saturday and sunday together ;)

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You gulp. “Joel-”, it’s almost in a warning tone. “I don’t- fuck, it feels-” “Uh-huh,” Joel murmurs against your core, nodding gently, grazing his nose against your clit in the process before his warm mouth tightens around your clit. And he suckles. You cry out, walls clenching around his fingers as he milks an orgasm from you. You damn near crumble, but he tightens the hold on your hip to keep you afloat. “There ya go, princess, come on my fingers,”

June 23rd 7:48 P.M.

I’ve had some time to think about Joel, and how much I like to think about him, and how things aren’t an accident.

Thinking about how unlikely it is that we sparked.

How Joel could have turned left, and I could have turned right. But we didn’t.

Instead of running away, I said yes, and so did he.

The impossibility of us seems so incredible, almost unbelievable.

I love that so many things had to happen for us to be where we are right now.

I saw the sun melt his eyes into amber, and he liked the way I smiled in the moonlight.

This feeling was radical, unnerving, scary.

I didn’t know why it was called falling or crashing into love. Perhaps I do now.

“You could sit there and read all day, huh?” Joel interrupts your thoughts as he starts to guide his truck off the freeway, passing a large aluminum Welcome to Houston! sign lit up by the truck’s headlights.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach, cheeks squished from smiling as his hand settles on your upper thigh, thumb drawing lazy circles on your sweet skin.

“I’m not reading anymore. Got too dark.” He’s referring to the novel you brought for the trip from your to-be-read pile that you started when you first got on the road.

The drive from Austin to Houston was two-and-a-half hours long, so you decided to saddle the passenger seat with different activities and snacks to keep yourself busy and out of Joel’s hair, much to his behest. He said he enjoyed letting you ramble on about whatever you were thinking about; said it was like listening to a podcast.

“But I am writing.” You hum quietly, penning in your last thought before it gets lost in the black of night.

“What’cha writin’, then?” Joel's curious eyes wander to the nest you had made for yourself in the passenger seat as he tilts his chin up to try and read beyond your journal cover.

You snap it closed and slip the pen in somewhere between the pages. “Keep your eyes on the road, old man.” Your tone is teasing, making you grin even more as he grumbles in annoyance under his breath as the truck slowly approaches a stop light.

Once off the freeway and down to the local roads, you roll the window down. You watch the moon start to rise in the sky, feeling goosebumps grow on your arms and exposed legs while the wind lazily flows through your hair. The gentle night breeze is welcome to air out Joel’s stuffy truck.

You were supposed to be his navigator once he got off the freeway, but you were a bit preoccupied looking around yourself.

You and Joel left Friday evening as soon as he was done with work, and now you were lightly coasting the streets of Houston as the sun finished setting. You could see the diverse architecture of downtown, the skyline of skyscrapers and high-rises were all crowded together. As you moved further into midtown, Joel drove past small businesses and parks. You let your hand float out the window, surfing the wind like a wave.

“Hey, space cadet, if you’re not gonna give me the directions to the motel, the least you can do is toss me a french fry.”

Your head cocks back to him, curiously smiling as you reach your hand aimlessly into the fast food bag, retrieving a fry and bringing it up to his lips. You settled on McDonald’s before you left Danbury, partially because Joel felt like being a little cheap, and you agreed they had the best, saltiest french fries.

You feed it to him, and he teasingly sucks the salt off your fingers.

“Gross, Joel.”

He sneers as he watches you wipe your hands on your thighs to rid yourself of his saliva. “You like it.”

He’s not wrong. You force yourself to look back out the window again to hide the heat creeping up the back of your neck.

Joel smirks and squeezes your thigh to bring you back to him. When you look over to the handsome man donning his usual green flannel, the wind furles your hair in messy, unkempt streaks.

He hesitates for a moment, but now that you’re no longer preoccupied with reading or writing, he holds your hand. You feel him test the waters, settling for just lightly clasping it in your lap, but it’s not enough for him. His thick fingers and calloused hand meets the heart of your palm as his fingers weave with your own. He lets out a little sigh and settles himself there.

You feel like teasing him. You’re afraid to hold my hand but not to fuck my throat in your woodshed with a party right outside? But then you remember how difficult it was to kiss him. It still felt like a slip-up, you had to admit. Especially if this was supposed to be just a casual relationship. It felt intimate and emotionally charged. But it was just kissing, right? And this was just holding hands.

Your thoughts wrestle around your head a bit. Joel feels it. You’re not sure how he always seems to know what you’re thinking, but he does. His thumb strokes a gentle line up and down the muscle of your thumb, a silent way of saying stop thinking for once. It’s appreciated, the sense of care and thoughtfulness he provided without even speaking a word.

Ever since he took you to that bar, Past Lives, all you could think about was Joel. Joel on repeat. Joel taking you away from the distracted environment of the lakehouse. Joel showing you the map, saying there was more to the world than Texas. Joel kissing you. Joel touching you. Joel fucking you. Joel protecting you. Joel saving you.

As much as you’ve had time to reflect on Joel, you’ve also reflected on your parents. They were hardly bad people, but they didn’t respect your adult choices. You came to tearfully realize that your relationship with them had slowly deteriorated since leaving for university. You grew independent, and that was especially hard for them. Something you had trouble understanding, something Joel didn’t understand either.

You called Joel Thursday night before your trip under the guise of asking if you should pack any specifics, but the conversation ended up landing on his relationship and parenting with Sarah. You told him how you appreciated the way he let Sarah grow and experience things, that it was good for her.

“She’s a tough girl, and I trust’er. Nothin’ much left to say.”

“So, what-” you stumble and scoff over the phone. “My parents don’t trust me? Or think I’m not tough enough to tackle the world?”

“S’not what I’m sayin’, darlin’. I don’t know what’s up with your folks. But you don’t need their approval, you’re an adult. All you need is t’… t’ trust yourself. Sounds fuckin’ cheesy, but it’s true.”

You pause, twisting a strand of hair around your finger as your eyebrows furrow, thinking over his words. “Y’think if I act a little more confident about it, they’ll start believing it too?”

Joel’s chuckle is a little crackle-ey on the line as he wanders around his house talking to you, going in and out of good reception. “Gotta start somewhere, buttercup. At the end of the day, it’s about your happiness, not theirs. Don’t gotta be such a people pleaser all the time.”

Yes, I do, you think.

“Thanks, Joel.”

“Sure thing, hon’.”

Dusk on the outskirts of Houston. The houses become few and far between. There’s more green grass and flourished trees. Joel slowly pulls into a small driveway, a large blue neon-lit sign designated that you were at your motel for the weekend. The entire truck is highlighted in a pale blue from the illumination, you nearly have to squint. There were no more than two or three cars parked outside. It was a two-level motel, with an outside staircase to navigate the different floors.

“The Blue Swallow Motel.” Your attention strays to Joel with furrowed brows. “Why here?”

Joel shrugs and navigates himself into a parking spot with ease. “Don’t know. Like blue swallows.”

Curiosity sparks you.

“You like blue swallows? You’ve seen one in person?”

He shakes his head and says nothing for a moment, but it almost looks like he can’t help himself to dispel some information. “They’re native to Africa, only ever seen the North American variants ‘round here.” He lets the engine grumble down once he pulls the key from the ignition, but you’re still awestruck in his passenger seat.

“I’m sorry- Joel Miller Bird Enthusiast?” The eager tone in your voice gives away your excitement, and Joel seems to despise it when you get too excited about him. He has to close his eyes and hang his head, wishing he never said anything.

“Oh, Joel Miller, don’t even try to deny it, I’ve seen those bird guides on your bookshelf, you’re a birder.”

His neck swivels, eyes wide and defensive. “I am not a birder.”

You throw your head back in laughter, and eventually, he cracks a smile. “They’re interestin’, okay?”

You playfully pat his shoulder with reassurance, nodding in agreement. The two of you settle down from your fits of laughter and look over the exterior of the motel once more.

“Y’said you wanted somethin’ quaint? Small?”

Being with Joel and having no other distractions was your goal for this weekend. Since this trip was coming out of Joel’s pocket, you insisted you didn’t need some fancy hotel. You’ve traveled to Houston a handful of times before, and the last thing you wanted was for your view outside some high-rise hotel to be Danbury in the distance.

You squeeze his hand once more and nod, stars lighting up behind your eyes. “It’s perfect. Thanks for finding something simple.”

Joel teeters on your appreciation but ultimately ends up shaking his head. “Could’ve gotten something a little nicer for ya, maybe closer to downtown-”

You stop him right there and bring his rough knuckles to your plush lips, adding a kiss to each one. “I said it’s perfect, so it’s perfect. I like it, it’s got charm, chutzpah even. Plus, looks like we’ll have the pool to ourselves.” You hum with a devious little smirk. You hop out of the truck and open the backdoor to grab your things.

“Pool, you say?” He retorts, an eyebrow raised with narrow eyes on you. You lightly shrug as you grab your backpack.

“Might have forgotten my swimsuit, though. Shame.”

You brush past Joel, who is scoffing lightly under his breath in disbelief, duffel bag brushing against his calves as he walks with you towards the motel office. You would be the death of this man.

“Damn shame.” He mutters, a smirk hanging low on his lips.

---

Room 135 was marked on the dark chestnut door, a small white plate with black numbering decked on.

There wasn’t much to be said about the motel room itself. You tried to stifle a laugh when you and Joel both walked in to see two separate queen beds. The sheets were white, but the top cover was an extravagant red pattern that looked like it got lost in the 80s. A side table was resting against the wall towards the headboards with a beige telephone placed on top, resting over a few local restaurant menus. Two small lamps were attached to the wall above the beds, perfectly opposite of the television sat on top of a tall dresser.

“Is this your idea of a romantic getaway?” You teased as you walked further inside over the beige carpet. “Two beds don’t exactly scream romantic.” You set your backpack down on the foot of the bed furthest from the door and closest to the bathroom around the corner. You assume this bed will just be used to hold both of your luggage, not a person.

“No,” Joel said through a tight gruff as he strained to lift his bag of tools and luggage onto the edge of his own bed. “S’a work trip. Not a romantic getaway.”

Your smile falters as you purse your lips and fiddle with your hands behind your back.

“So, this really is a work trip?” You clarify, to which Joel looks at you a bit confused.

“Course it is.”

A light boil simmers through your chest. Maybe you will be sleeping in your own bed tonight. Joel could sense your flattened mood, and he quickly felt the need to sweep up the pieces of what he broke. He was bad with words, terrible really, but he tried to find the right ones for you.

“I said that wrong. It’s a work trip but,” he trails off and falters as he saddles his hands on his hips for a moment and sighs, your doe eyes looking up to his own. “But I brought you here to spend some real time with ya. Didn’t wanna,” he shrugs and rolls his eyes. A classic Joel Miller sign that he wants to say something a little personally emotional.

“What?” You probe him, a smile tickling your lips as you loop your hands to rest just above the ones on his hips. “You didn’t want to what, Joel?” You ask, setting your chin on his chest and looking up at him with a goofy grin.

He sighs and rolls his eyes again, having a hard time looking at you. “I didn’t wanna go on this trip alone. Didn’t want to leave you at home when I could bring ya with.”

Joel wasn’t a social man. In fact, if the world went to shit, you think he might really enjoy the solitude. But for him to admit that he would rather have you in his space than out of it, it’s quite endearing.

Now you’re the one who's hiding a blush. You settle your cheek against his chest and sigh, soaking in his scent and his warmth. Joel’s hand comes to rest on the side of your head, gently stroking your hair away from your face as the two of you relax into a gentle hug.

“Were you serious about that no bathin’ suit thing?” He asks after a moment of silence, causing you to roll your eyes and shove him a good distance away.

“As serious as a heart attack.” You sneer as you round the bed to the bathroom, needing desperately to relieve yourself after the drive. Of all colors, it’s a beautiful mint green. Incredibly retro, you think as you use the toilet and stare at the shower absentmindedly. You roll your phone around in your hands once you finish washing them, a lump rising in your throat.

Your mother’s words echoed in your ear.

“If it gets serious, we want to meet this young man.”

There was no young man. The young man your mother referred to was really Joel. Panic was spreading through your body just at the thought of trying to fix this situation. They figured out you were seeing someone, they just didn’t quite know who. A few heavy breaths labor out of you, anxiety nestling in your chest.

“You okay, buttercup? Been a minute.” Joel asks cautiously from the opposite side of the door, his knuckles offering a few polite knocks.

Your chest surges. You didn’t want him to know you’d slipped up, half-told your parents the truth. You didn’t want him to end things out of fear of them finding out. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine, Joel. Just.. gimme a minute.”

His feet don’t move on the other side of the door. He doesn’t want to leave you, feeling something slightly wrong.

“Really, Joel, just- checking out the facilities.” God.

He sighs before you hear him back off. “Alright. Lemme know f’you need anythin’.”

You need to act, or else this feeling will eat you alive. Finally, with some accurate cell service, you text the first person you think of. Nathan. Remember that childhood crush of yours? You hadn’t seen him in years, and with how gorgeous he was growing up, there was a scary feeling that you might be texting a man who had a girlfriend. But he was your only hope to cover up the mess you had made.

Growing up with Nathan and his parents being friends with your own always felt like a setup. Your mothers always cooed that you two just might end up marrying one another. At the time, you wished it was true, that all this exposure with him would lead to something romantic. But then you grew up, saw each other a little less over the summers, and grew apart. You still kept in contact via social media, but not often. You saw his life in pictures. One from a homecoming dance, a group picture of him and his friends, an action shot of him playing basketball, a high school graduation picture, and a similar one for college graduation. He was still alive somewhere out there, you just didn’t know him like you used to.

Nathan was always kind, goofy, very golden retriever-like. Summers spent apart created a rift, but he was your childhood best friend and crush once upon a time. If he was willing to help you out, you owed him big time. So you shoot him a text and cross your fingers that this is still his number. The last thing logged in your messages was a silly conversation about cheetahs versus jaguars. You were team cheetahs, obviously.

You felt a slight sense of relief once you came up with a plan. Talk to Nathan. See if he can act as your fake boyfriend for your parents. See if he doesn’t think you’re damn crazy for concealing your forty-something-year-old fuck buddy.

You’re not really sure how to reignite the conversation, it’s been so damn long. You stare at the blank screen before you craft the brilliant message:

A sigh leaves your parted, anxious lips, and you shove your phone away.

---

You really did bring a bathing suit, much to Joel’s eagerness for the rumor to be true. You change into it with your back turned to him. You feel his eyes boring holes into you, sending a small dash of goosebumps up your arms. “I’m going for a dip before bed.” You say as you fiddle with the strings of your bikini top, struggling for a moment before you feel a warm presence step in behind you and fuss away with the strings himself.

You hum softly as he fastens the strings, making a bow at your midback. Joel’s lips brush against your shoulder before they start sponging gentle kisses up your neck. The hair you tied up into a loose bun tickles his nose.

“Such’a pretty girl.” He hums against your skin, a soft shiver trickling up your spine, lips parting in pleasure. “Too bad you’re not a very good girl.” Joel murmured as his hands slipped lower, past your hips, past the curve of your ass, until he was cupping both cheeks in his large palms. You gasp at the sensation, feeling his fingers squeeze at your flesh. A moan escapes your lips, you just can’t help it. You love it when Joel is handsy for you, the needy one.

You swallow the lump in your throat and turn in his arms, eagerly kissing him as you cup his cheeks. He fights for control instantly, pulling you in at your hips so your back arches backward out of habit. You let your head dip back, eyes dipping closed as his lips trail down your neck, then between the valley of your breasts, all while his wiry beard creates scratches in his wake.

“Do you have swim trunks?” You ask breathily, shoving him lightly by the top of the head further down your body. He drops to his knees and continues to trail kisses down your stomach.

The question catches him off guard.

“Do I- what?” He asks breathily, looking up at you as he sponges kisses over your clothed center.

“If you don’t have swim trunks,” you try to continue, “you can’t go swimming with me.” You say with a teasing smirk, stepping around Joel, who was awestruck kneeling on the ground, his hands still in place where he was cupping the backs of your thighs before he slaps them down on his own to show annoyance.

He was probably thinking how you just up and disappeared when you were just standing in front of him a moment ago. Joel grumbles something, but you’re already out the door of the motel room.

---

The pool is glowing in its blue hue, lit by dim lights around the perimeter and the silver moon in the sky.

In a world so vast, you couldn’t help but feel a little lost in wanting to explore it.

You take a breath in through your nose and test the water with a dip of your toe. A bit cold for your liking, but the warm Texas summers make your skin sticky and the air a bit stale. So you dive in.

The cool water is a shock to your system at first, with goosebumps growing on your skin like wildfire. Your face breaks the seal of the water, emerging over the light ripples you created upon diving in, catching your breath. You take a few leisurely laps along the outskirts, feeling weightless, free.

“Nice night.” Joel’s brassy voice breaks the gentle chorus of the summer cicadas. You hum as you carve your way through the water until you meet the pool’s edge. You rest your arms on the lip of the pool, bringing your breasts just above the surface of the water.

“Get. In.” You say with an authoritative voice, despite your eager smile.

He cocks his head a few degrees to the right, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “No. You look like a shivering chihuahua.”

His joke elicits a giggle from you.

“It’s only cold for the first few minutes. You’ll warm up.” You’re only half-lying, the pool was so fucking cold.

Joel merely shakes his head. “You’re crazy, buttercup.”

You hum as you push off the edge of the pool, moving towards the center, letting the water dance around you as your arms glide back and forth to keep you afloat.

“Sounds like you need some motivation.” Your eyes lock on Joel’s as your fingers navigate to the back of your bikini strings, slowly pulling the tie loose, feeling the water aid you in floating the material off your upper half. The top strings around your neck are still tied, concealing the full reveal of your breasts.

Joel’s once secure face fizzled, eyes straying and lips parting. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he kneels down, pointer finger curling towards him impatiently. “Get over here.”

You shake your head disobediently. “Now.” His barking urgency makes you stifle a smirk.

“Joel Miller afraid of a little cold water.” You shrug and move your fingers to the strings tied behind your neck, slowly tugging loose the threads. The material falls limp into the water, floating in front of you free from your body.

Joel watches with impatience, the spill of your breasts making his cock twitch inside his swim trunks. The mesh material was forgiving, allowing him to swell at the sight of you. The cold water has your nipples taut, drawn into sweet peaks. You’re just out of his fucking reach, too far into the pool for him to grab you.

He grunts quietly, jaw tight as you slowly swim closer to him. You shiver at his glance alone.

“If you want me,” your voice drops innocently, doe eyes making their appearance to reel him in, “you’ll get in the pool, Mr. Miller.”

Just out of his reach once more, you swim back to the center and push your thumbs into the band of your bikini bottoms, down your legs, leaving you bare in the pool for anyone to see from the highway or their own motel rooms. You must admit, Joel’s desperate gaze filled with want makes you squirm with excitement. Disobeying him lights that explosive even more.

He offers you his hand, one final offer. “Last chance, angel, get out of the pool.”

“Why do you even have swim trunks on if you aren’t going to get in?” You ask, eyes gazing over the tangled hair he has scattered across his chest.

“I was hoping these would appease you alone. Now come here,” he juts his hand out as an offering one last time.

You roll your eyes and swim closer, your breasts lapping in the water as you take Joel’s hand. And tug with all your strength.

His feet skid to try and hold him back, but he ultimately summersaults into the pool. You cover your mouth with your hand, unable to conceal your laughs as Joel emerges, sopping wet, cold, angry.

“Y-You-” He chatters his teeth, eyes screwed tight on you as he pushes his hand back through his soaked curls and down his face, grazing his wiry beard. “You’re gonna get it.”

Joel’s threat makes you squeal. You attempt to doggy paddle away, but the grip he catches on your arm is iron. He pulls you back to him, and your body glides through the water, arms securing on his biceps once you’re locked in his hold. He’s threatening, but not as much so when you wrap your legs around his waist and feel his half-hard length.

You raise your eyebrow at him, and he half-chuckles.

“Such a fuckin’ piece of work you are.” He grunts out, hands searing the flesh of your hips as he skirts his hand down lower, cupping the globes of your ass.

A hum tickles your throat as you lean in and press your lips to his jawline in a tempting kiss, smiling as Joel’s nose playfully nudges yours, leaning in for more.

It’s stomach-twisting how you feel so comfortable with Joel, how you sink into his body, and how he warms your core. You kiss him until your lips feel bruised, and he grips your beautiful curves with eagerness. The two of you kiss like hungry teenagers, finally outside the watchful eyeline of your parents. Joel’s cock is hardening against your naked core.

He forces himself off of you, groaning lightly as he strays from your eyes. Cupping his jawline, you angle him back to you, resting your foreheads together.

“Makin’ me get all riled up like a damn teenager.” His warm breath puffs across your face, his words make your bundle of nerves tingle.

“I like that I’m the one causing it.”

Joel chews at the inside of his cheek before giving you a tight little nod. “Me too, buttercup.”

---

Joel decides pool play is over. He gets out first, snags your bikini pieces that floated to the edge of the pool and starts walking leisurely back into the motel room.

He only hears your cursing and belligerent rambling after he returns from turning on the shower, piping hot.

“Can’t hear ya when you’re chatterin’ your teeth.”

Joel returns to the bathroom and strips his swim trunks off, still half-hard. He tests the water with his hand, giving you an affirming nod it was okay to step in.

You’re still angry and seething, having to streak your way back to the room naked and freezing your bare ass off. He looks at your crossed arms and playfully tuts. “You’re the one that thought t’drag me in there with ya, princess.”

Joel follows you into the shower, the water splashing searing hot droplets. It only feels that hot because you’re readjusting from the pool’s temperature. You find yourself huddling into Joel’s warmth.

He finds it endearing, the way your head settles on his chest, your ear to his heart, too chilled to let him go. He angles the showerhead downwards, letting it focus on your body first. He could wait.

You gently release your crossed arms, letting them wrap low around his hips. He had a few extra pounds of flesh low on his tummy and on the sides of his waist. You gently pinch the area and smile.

“Stop that.” He hisses, eyebrows knitted together.

“But I like it. You’re my favorite person to hug.”

The sentiment splashed warmth on the back of his neck. Joel has picked up a few extra pounds from town barbeques, and beers tossed back during football games. He used to not like it, the way he had to loosen his belt after a big meal, or having to purchase his new t-shirts in a size up. He didn’t think about it much, but naked with you in the shower, feeling you admire his ever-changing body, was a comfort.

You look up after a few moments of silence, setting your chin on his chest and feeling his chest hair graze against your skin.

Joel wants to warm you up, get you to relax under the showerhead. He presses a nimble kiss to your lips, pitter-pattering kisses along the extent of your body before he is down on his knees, angling your back to rest against the shower wall.

Tired after your car ride and melting under the shower’s sprinkling water, you ache for a relief that will come from your head hitting a pillow. But Joel had other things in mind, things that would make you forget you were tired in an instant.

Now under his watchful eye, lips and wiry beard scratching at your soft skin, you lightly part your legs for his entrance. God, please don’t let me slip and embarrass myself right now. Let me have this one good thing, this man’s tongue against my pussy would make me a God-willing woman.

Joel can feel your exhausted body, begging to find a bed. But he had you where he wanted you, and his mouth was watering to taste your sweet musky arousal. His hands settle themselves on the backs of your thighs, supporting your weight as his head leans into your warmth.

He brings two fingers forward, parting your center, licking a slow draw up your core. His tongue flicks off your clit, your bundle of nerves twitches. Something flips in his stomach, and his cock grows heavy against his thigh.

You taste sweet and serene, something he’s grown an appetite for. With several days apart awaiting your weekend trip away, he often found himself at night, spilling into his hand thinking about your young, beautiful pussy flushed against his mouth. He takes this opportunity to relish in you moaning his name, without any curious ears.

His tongue sinks lower, swirling around your tense entrance. The swell of his tongue gushes more arousal from you, and he gets a proper taste that isn’t mixed with water from the shower.

Joel’s grip on your thigh tightens, and he laps at your clit like a famished man.

The constant flicks have you gasping for air in the all-too-warm shower. Your fingers weave into his soaking wet curls, still finding a grip as your thigh twitches against his hand.

Joel’s two fingers parting your center gently massage at your entrance, wiggling in gently as he suckles on your clit, and you mewl weakly.

His tongue and teeth lightly graze your sensitivity, feeling stars clouding your vision as his fingers set a gentle pace.

“Ooh,” you sigh weakly, feeling his fingers hit the perfect spot, one that makes you shake.

Joel knows that sound, knows the feeling. He looks up, admires the way your pretty lips are parted in bliss. The hand on your thigh is brought to your stomach, gently stroking over the flesh.

You watch him a little curiously, a little fucked. His mouth returns to your clit, but his hand still falters on your lower abdomen. You whimper as he adds a little pressure, and quickens his fingers. It’s jaw-dropping, the friction and pressure, piling on top of each other.

You gulp. “Joel-”, it’s almost in a warning tone. “I don’t- fuck, it feels-”

“Uh-huh,” Joel murmurs against your core, nodding gently, grazing his nose against your clit in the process before his warm mouth tightens around your clit. And he suckles.

You cry out, walls clenching around his fingers as he milks an orgasm from you. You damn near crumble, but he tightens the hold on your hip to keep you afloat.

“There ya go, princess, come on my fingers,” he grunts, jaw tight, and teeth clenched as he watches your cum-arousal mixture glide down his fingers in a sticky mess. He slowly stands, watching you pant for air, as he sucks his digits clean with an evil smirk.

The temperature in here is too much, heat consumes your body as you weakly grip his biceps.

“God damn, Mr. Miller.” You say breathlessly. You take him in a quick kiss, moaning weakly into his mouth at your taste. His tongue tangles with you, and he keeps his fingers on your core. His first two fingers start to slowly circle your clit again, but it’s entirely too soon.

You whimper weakly into his mouth, your clit aching and still recovering from your oral orgasm.

“Mmm- can’t do it, Joel.”

Joel snarls as he swiftly turns you around, his foot hitting the insides of both of your ankles to spread your legs. Your face is plastered against the shower wall, watching him out of the corner of your eye with your jaw dropped.

“Be good for me, baby girl, show how thankful you are.”

You whine at his raspy voice, feeling its timbre bounce against the walls.

“Please,” you beg in a whisper, inching your feet farther apart for him to take you in the shower.

Joel strokes his cock, seething through his teeth at the desperate relief he’s feeling. His swollen tip vies for your attention. He lines himself up, his other hand on your hip as he notches himself inside.

You visibly flinch away, Joel hushing you softly as he tries again.

“Gotta relax for me, pretty girl.”

You sigh weakly and let yourself melt with the warm water, fluttering your eyes closed as you gently jut your hips back into this, needing to be filled.

Joel tries again after lining his tip up and down your slit and gathering your arousal. He notches inside of you once more, causing your eyelashes to flutter. He slowly presses on.

The drinks must have really loosened you up since the last time the two of you fooled around in his truck. He wasn’t so hard to take then, but now he feels thicker, rounder. You could feel the thick vein on the underside of his cock as he ruts his hips into your ass.

Finally, you will yourself to breathe, moaning his name in desperation.

Joel’s trying to contract his lungs, but you’re gripping onto him so tight, the heat of the shower going to his head.

You hum and purposely grip your walls around him, squeezing for his last breath.

Joel snarls and smacks your ass from below, watching the fatty flesh jiggle. It stings, but you like it, thinking about his large handprint marking you red. He winds his hips back up and presses in, groaning lowly as he fills you to the brim.

He sets a decent pace, one that robs you of what air you have left in your lungs. Your entire body feels sensitive, your cheek growing sore from being fucked against the shower wall. But it feels entirely too good, a certain itch that only Joel Miller can scratch.

Every thrust he makes, you moan his name like a broken record. “Joel, Joel, Joel,” you moan and grunt it so much, that it starts to sound like it’s not a real word anymore.

You reach back an arm blindly, gripping his bicep and stitching your nails into his skin.

Joel grunts out weakly, the burning sensation you caused on his arm making him go wild. He reaches for both of your wrists and plants them at the base of your back, forcing your face to be your only weight to keep you up against the shower.

But it unlocks a new angle, one that has you crying out curses and his heavenly name.

“Fuck me, Joel, fuck- fuck your favorite little pussy,” you mewl out, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

“God dammit, fuck me good like that, like that,” your eyes clench close, panting heavily. “Right there, daddy, please, Mr. Miller, touch my clit, please,” you beg, the pet name rolling off your tongue.

It makes him snarl. He sets a hellish pace. His chest puffs up, his broad biceps locking around you as his fingers stroke over your pussy.

He loves the way you wind him up. Because you are his favorite young pussy, one he’s made his own, railing you so good that you forget about anyone else that may have had you before.

All you know is Joel Miller.

His thighs and lower tummy smack your ass cheeks, a distinct slapping sound filling the shower and pinging off the walls right back into your ears.

Stars flutter behind your eyes, you feel light-headed. The water splashes warm across your back, allowing Joel even more slip.

The harder he fucks you, the closer he moves in. Now he has his entire torso flushed against your back, flicking his hips up into you with precision.

Suddenly he’s grabbing your leg by the underside of your knee, hiking it up, and planting it against the shower wall as he exposes a whole new sensation.

You can’t last any longer. His fingers circle dangerously around your clit, and now he’s pounding you into the wall, forcing friction against his glorious thrusts. You whimper loudly as his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, feeling your walls clench around him as you come.

It’s jaw-dropping, heart-surging, mind-fucking how good he feels coming inside of you. It’s warm, warmer than the water still raining over you. It’s comforting the way his seed spreads throughout your core, his grunts filling the shower as he drops his last load inside of you.

And goddamn, he loves how you milk him dry.

You weakly slide down the wall, tiredly dropping your leg once he pulls out.

“No ya’don’t.” Joel quickly says, snagging a strong arm around your waist and hauling you up. You whimper as he peels your face off the wall, blinking rapidly as he spins you to face him. “C’mere.” Joel embraces you, and you lean weakly into his front like a bear hug.

“Water,” you whisper against his pec. He turns the shower temperature down, a more comforting heat surrounding you now.

“You’re alright.” He assures.

After time to recuperate, Joel reaches for the shampoo bottle, squirting a small amount into his palm and lathering it between his hands. You feel a little better standing, but you still stay wrapped up in his arms, in his hug.

He massages the shampoo into your locks, gently massaging it against your scalp, before he gently washes the bubbles out. He gathers conditioner next, letting it soak into your ends.

You hide your smile against his chest, knowing that he probably had to learn this type of stuff for Sarah. Hair care, skin care, tampons and pads, all the sort of stuff single dads fear. You wonder whatever could have been in Sarah’s mother’s mind to leave a guy like Joel Miller. Sure, he wasn’t perfect, but he seemed to fit into your life like a glove right now. For however long that perfect fit would be.

A weak sigh leaves your lips as he strokes your head sweetly, his fingers then grazing your cheek.

“Y’alright? Feel good?”

You nod weakly and smile, letting your arms drop gently as you pull away. “M’tired.”

Joel stifles a chuckle and nods. “Me too, baby. Sit tight.”

Once Joel is assured you’re not going to lose your strength standing up on your own, he shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, wrapping his towel low on his waist. You gaze at the lines around his hips, and how they dip down into his towel.

You clear your throat as you quickly look away once he approaches you with two towels. He wraps one around your shoulders, gently moving his warm hands up and down the sides of your arms.

You look so sweet, warm and cozy, cum-filled, at ease. The stress he usually sees you carrying around is wiped away. He hoped he had something to do with it.

Joel leans down and presses a light kiss to your lips. Not hungry, not desperate, not chasing. Delicate. Assuring.

You smile tiredly and shyly evade his eye contact, something that he hates to admit is goddamn adorable on you.

Both of you towel dry off any remaining droplets of water. Joel forces you to show him how you even get the towel you wrap around your hair on your head.

“This is girlhood, Joel Miller.” You say once you secure it on, watching him shake his head in disbelief.

“A mystery to me.” He says with a boyish grin.

You both exit the steamy bathroom and search your bags for pajamas. You packed a few comfy shirts for bed. And only one extra pair of panties. You better be damn careful with your one last sacred pair. You toss it back into your pack for now, deciding that they would probably be taken off in the morning anyway. You slip under the covers of Joel’s bed, saving him a space you hope he fills. Of course, he does.

Joel flips off the light switch, indulging the room in a black and blue hue. He grunts quietly as he slips into the covers. The both of you just melt into the mattress.

You nuzzle into his side, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He makes gentle circles into your back as your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You sigh and turn your back to Joel to retrieve it from the charger.

“Your parents askin’ if we made it okay?” Joel murmurs tiredly, eyes closed, waiting for you to return to his side.

Your breath catches in your throat. It’s a text message from Nathan.

Hey stranger

“Yeah,” you lie, your fingers gliding across the keyboard to configure a response. “They uh.. They’re tellin’ me to not bug you too much on the trip.” You awkwardly chuckle, your back still turned to him as you stare at Nathan’s message.

Joel dryly chuckles as he reaches a hand out and settles it on your hip. “Quite the opposite.”

You feel terrible concealing this from Joel. But you don’t want him to think you were young and foolish letting your secret fling slip. This was to make things work, to keep the secret buried from your parents.

Another message from Nathan makes your phone buzz in your hand.

Heard you’re in Danbury for the summer with your folks. Wanna catch up?

Your heart sits in your throat, shocked by his ask.

You flip over your phone, opting to reply in the morning. You’re beat. You sigh weakly and return to Joel’s side, hiding your face in his shoulder as you gently kiss along the muscle. He was already passed out.

As messy as this felt, being with Joel felt like being tossed a life jacket in open water. And you weren’t going to lose that safety, not if you could help it.

---

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#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller

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gallusrostromegalus · 7 months

Note

Speaking of public health. What was the soul society reaction to the eradication of small pox like?

"You notice there's a lot less dead babies these days?" Iba asked in the middle of one morning's office work.

"Fewer dead babies." Komamura corrected without thinking. "Less is for things you measure by volume, fewer for things you count. We do not measure dead babies by volume."

"Oh. right." Iba nodded. "Yeah, that wouldn't be right."

After a moment, what his lieutenant actually said caught up with him. "Sorry- force of habit from living with a Librarian." Komamura shook his head and looked up from the monthly intake statistics analysis report, peering at Tetsuzaemon Iba through the narrow gap of his helmet. "What do you mean, fewer dead babies?"

"I dunno, it just occurred to me. When I started the academy in the 40's- right after the catastrophe- we did a student tour of the 7th division's recently deceased souls intake queue, remember?" Iba waved his hand leaning back in his chair, apparently uncertain of where he was going with this either, but articulating his thoughts.

"I believe so. I had just taken over from Captain Kotsubaki." Komamura nodded, patient. Chikane Iba was an excellent shinigami and had done a magnificent job running the third division, but she had a tendency to talk over and bulldoze her son, so Komamura had learned to be patient when the young man when he felt like he should share a thought.

"Yeah, yeah- Not gonna lie Boss, you scared the crap out of me back then." Tetsuzaemon laughed. "-But the thing that stuck out to me that day was just. The sheer number of Infants and little kids in the line. the guy giving us the tour- I think it was Old Ito, actually- He said that one in five babies in the living world didn't live to see their fifth birthday."

"An improvement even back then- it was one in three children when back when I started in the 1840s." Komamura nodded. "It's funny that I frightened you- Captain Aikawa apparently headhunted me for the 7th because Kaname told him about how the children at the library used to use me as playground equipment."

"Good grief." Iba blanched. "So, what, he threw you in the deep end with all the dead kids?"

"In Captain Aikawa's defense, I did volunteer to handle children's cases. As sad as a frightened infant is, it's infinitely preferable than dealing with the deceased who are angry."

Iba frowned, opened his mouth like he was about to object, reconsidered, closed it, considered further, rocking his head from side to side, and then nodded. "I- yeah, Yeah, that tracks."

"You were saying though?" Komamura laced his fingers in front of him, leaning forward to listen.

"Oh! Well- not as much these days but back then, every family had like seven and eight kids, you know? And I realized that, well- almost everyone I know has a dead sibling or two? Almost every mother lost a child- Gods know my mother's a basket case but even getting a cold could send her into fits. If something had happened to me when I was a tyke- I don't think she would have pulled through."

Komamura nodded enough for Iba to see his helmet tilt to indicate he as still listening.

"I- I don't actually know where I was going with this, but I was reading that report earlier and there's a note from Shita-san at the end that this is the first month we haven't had a kid under the age of five in the intake queue. Ever."

Komamura flipped though the pages of the report to read the hand-written note at the end. "That is excellent news!"

"Oh! Yeah! It's great!" Iba nodded enthusiastically. "It just- I don't know, I guess it just snuck up on me and I'm so used to hearing something went wrong I guess I don't quite know what to do with good news?" he shrugged.

Komamura pondered this for a moment. "Hm. Well. Take heart, to start. But I see what you mean- it's a tremendous achievement, but not one we contributed to, and a "No Dead Babies This Month" office party feels in poor taste at best."

"Oof, yeah- especially if next month there's an accident or something and there's a whole bunch in the queue." Iba nodded. He considered things for a moment.

"-What happened that there are le- fewer dead babies, actually?" Iba frowned. "-Whoever it is, it would be appropriate to toast them and make an offering in their name to the Gods of Good Fortune, I think. Also do more of whatever they did."

"That IS a good idea!" Komamura smiled under his helmet. Perhaps it was his training as a priest, but he did enjoy an offering of goodwill ceremony. Also, nobody would ask him to drink- just pour any alcohol he was offered on the statue of the relevant deity. "I think- It's probably in our statistics, if the tenth division doesn't have an idea already. Can you collect the cause of death data for young children for the last-"

He was interrupted by the thunderous footsteps of someone sprinting towards the office, immediately followed by a tall young woman with short white hair throwing the door open, red-faced and winded.

"THEY DID IT! THE MAD BASTARDS THEY DID IT!" She shouted with wild excitement.

"Isane-? Uh, Miss Kotetsu?" Iba flustered.

"Please keep your voice down-" Komamura said through gritted teeth, trying not to growl at being suddenly shouted at. "Who has-?"

He was interrupted by Miss Kotetsu bolting right up to his desk and shoving a newspaper into his face hard enough to actually wrap around his helmet in excitement.

"SMALLPOX! IT'S GONE!!" She shrieked with joy.

"-gone?" Iba asked, bewildered as Komamura gently took the newspaper from her and pulled it back to actually read it. It was a newspaper from the living world, dated that morning- someone had gone through some pains to get it back to the Seireitei at speed, but the news was worth it:

SMALLPOX IS DEAD!

"TOTALLY ERADICATED! EXTINCT! KAPUT! IT HAS CEASED TO BE!" She bounced excitedly. "IT IS AN EX-PANDEMIC!"

"So like. Nobody has it this year?" Iba tried.

"Nobody has it this year, or will ever have it again, if I'm reading this right." Komamura muttered in awe. "Thanks to an aggressive worldwide vaccination and disease protocol program, there have been no human cases of the disease for several years. Since there are no people infected, there is no way for the disease to come back..."

Both men stared into space, the news almost unbelievable.

"Well. That does explain the Less Dead Babies thing." Iba nodded.

"Fewer Dead Babies." Komamura and Isane corrected in unison.

"I mean yeah that sure is part of it because Smallpox was the number one killer of infants in the living world for a long time there, but there's a whole bunch of stuff that's really cut down on infant mortality in the last few decades in particular." Isane nodded.

"We were JUST Talking about that!" Iba said, excitedly. "-Good to know you guys in the fourth are keeping track of that, It was gonna take forever to pull out that data..."

"Oh, could you pull it out anyway Tetsu-kun?" She asked. "-That's most of why I came over- I mean, to share the good news first, but Unohana-Taicho is planning on using this to really push a widespread vaccination program in the Rukongai and having the numbers to back us up would be really helpful!"

"Oh! Uh, sure!" Iba blushed.

"...You know this young lady, Tetsu-Kun?" Komamura lightly teased.

Both of the young people twitched and bowed to him, pointing at each other and speaking at once.

"Oh! I'm sorry Sir, I'm fourth division third seat Isane Kotetsu, i just know Iba because we were in the same class at the academy-" She babbled.

"-this is Isane Kotetsu, she's the smartest person I know and she saved my life from a lizard one time!" He waved excitedly.

"...That lizard was not going to kill you." She sighed, covering her face in embarrassment. "-I mean, if you developed a sepsis infection from the contaminated wound it might have made you very ill but that would take weeks and we have antibiotics for that, the lizard itself wasn't all that dangerous."

"It was INSIDE my LEG!" Iba gestured to his right thigh.

Komamura slowly tilted his whole torso sideways at Iba, hoping that sentence might make more sense at a forty-five degree angle. "...How?"

"I. Uh." Iba stopped, realizing his story was maybe not one he should be telling his boss. "I was. um. Out camping with the lads back when I was in the 11th, and a lizard climbed into my cot and I was. not totally awake and thought someone was trying to cop a feel and well you know, that's behavior you respond to with force so I rolled over and tried to stab the intruder's hand and. Uh. Missed."

Komamura continued to stare at him blankly.

"There was. screaming. lotta flailing, blood, general mayhem sort of thing. And in the confusion the Lizard.... climbed. inside the hole. In my leg. Sir." Iba explained, slowly crumpling behind his desk.

Komamura sighed deeply.

"-but Miss Isane was right there and actually kicked Ikkaku halfway across the camp because he was trying to lure it out with a Banana and generally being useless and she just grabbed that sucker and ripped him right outta there and had the wound packed and sealed in less than a minute and I even got to finish doing boot camp!" He rallied, cheerfully waving at Isane in hopes of distracting his captain with how cool she was.

"...What happened to the lizard?" Komamura asked, warily eyeing her through the gap in his helmet.

"Oh! He was really, really human acclimated and sneaked into my medkit rather than go back into the wild, so Harry lives a very spoiled lizard life in a terrarium in my room at home! Though it's actually my sister's room now but he still gets all the mango and smashed beetles he can eat!" Isane nodded cheerfully.

"You named a lizard. Harry?" Komamura asked slowly.

"...Iba-san named him, actually." She blushed.

"Ironically!" Iba protested. "I'm only mostly stupid, sir."

Komamura sighed deeply and once again regretted that his disguise would not let him rub his face as needed. "Alright. Thank you for the announcement, Miss Kotetsu. We will get that data to you in a timely manner- was there anything else you needed"

"Oh gosh, there was something else, what was it-?" She tapped her chin, trying to remember.

There was the distant sound of explosives, and all three of them turned to see what looked like midday fireworks going off at the 4th.

"Oh Right! Unohana-taicho requests your presence at the 4th as. Um. 'Designated Non-Drinker and Unarmed Combat Specialist' because the party was getting kind of wild when I left actually-"

Komamura sighed, and picked up Tenken from his stand and started tying the zanpaktou to his belt anyway.

---

The following morning, a small party arrived at the local shrines to The Gods Of Good Fortune, bearing offerings on behalf of the living world's World Health Organization and the handful of names they'd been able to glean from the living world newspapers, and nursing varying degrees of of hangover.

Komamura lead the party, having gotten them up at a slightly malicious 5AM to be there first thing in the morning. Tetsuzaemon and his friends from the 11th he insisted come along and 'suffer with me, as my sworn brothers' were quite pained but doing their best to hold it together.

Shunsui was a veteran of this nonsense and was hiding the pain very well behind his longtime party companions, Ukitake and Unohana, who seemed so extraordinarily cheerful that Komamura had to conclude that they were both still significantly chemically altered. He couldn't fault Unohana- they were faint and only visible on the rare occasions she let her hair down, but just below her left ear there was still the faint divot scars from surviving her own infection.

Isane had celebrated just as hard as the 11th Division lads, but had also had the good sense to alternate beer and water and take both aspirin and some sort of horrible pink goop that apparently relieved nausea before passing out under a table and had woken up only slightly groggy.

Komamura's new friend Harry the Lizard- a remarkably loquacious and quick-witted reptile -had taken up residence inside his helmet, lightly intoxicated on the cocktail fruits people had kept feeding him, and was politely nestled in the thick fur of his neck to ward off the morning cold.

The rituals of gratitude for this miracle, and asking the Gods to bless those who had worked so hard went smoothly, and Komamura couldn't help but notice when he turned around that Miss Kotetsu had opted to lean on the shoulder of 'Tetsu-kun'.

It was not often Komamura started the day with the feeling that everything would turn out alright, but as he watched Tetsuzaemon cautiously but gracelessly take Isane's hand and her squeeze it back on the way back down from the shrine, he felt like the feeling might stay this time.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach fanfiction #bleach #sajin komamura #tetsuzaemon iba #isane kotetsu #long post #infant death mention #disease mention #injury mention #it's funny I promise

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forthelostones · 8 months

Text

helpless ─── ⋆

°:. *₊ ° . masc*!reader x farmhand!ellie °:. *₊ ° .

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!ellie, fingering (e receiving), finger sucking, mentions of female genitalia (referring 2 reader)

*more masc or 'stem', just not femme! hopefully, that's clear.

synopsis: you and ellie are working tirelessly to restore your house near the farm. the pressure builds up and she needs a stress reliever amid the chaos.

an: hi everyone! thanks for all your likes and follows i really appreciate the support. idk i had a hard time figuring out how i wanted to write this. i feel like maybe it's not as long as i hoped but I've been holding on to it. anyways, enjoy x.

wc: 1.2k

Night fell quickly without you even noticing it and Ellie was nowhere to be found. You looked up in the kitchen, where you were retiling the floor, covered in dust, you wiped your hands on your utility pants. You let out a sigh as you toss your head back, your muscles burned from the amount of energy that you had to exert to rip up the old tiles. The wind blew through the windows cooly, sending a chill down your back. You lean over the windowsill and peek out to see the lights in the barn.

“Ellie!” You holler.

You look at your progress and smile sweetly, even though it wasn’t even 40% of the flooring, you still admire your persistence. You walk over to the leaking fridge, remembering that you should fix that, and open it to pull a pitcher of lemonade El made you earlier. It was tart, very little sugar, and heavily refreshing. You rubbed your hands over your stomach realizing how sore you become from bending over all day. You hear the front door close as Ellie's boots clobber on the hard, old wood, and you glance to see her covered in dirt and sweat. Her muscles spilled out of her once-white tank top, glistening with sweat, mixed with sprinkles of hay. She smiles weakly at you.

“Look at you,” She mutters.

You sip your lemonade and tilt your head as she strides towards you hands on her hips, observing your work like she was your boss.

“Okay, okay…”

You took her hips in your hands and planted a smooth kiss on her mouth. “You smell like the barn.” You laugh while your lips still pressed on hers. She shrugs her shoulders and rolls her neck you can’t help but stare at her.

After making it into your shower, and washing your handwork away, you wrapped a towel around your body and made it into your shared messy bedroom. You sighed as you thought about all the work left to do, but then you saw Ellie lying in bed, her glasses on, reading a comic you bought for her last Christmas. You rummaged through your boxes to find a pair of boxers and your hoodie. After you got dressed you laid your head in Ellie’s lap, she stole your night shirt from last evening and your sleeping shorts. Her hands cupped around your cheek, her touch was warm, and soothing.

“Our carrots are growing nicely,” she smiled.

“Are they, that’s good, we can have … stew?” You roll up on your elbow looking up at her.

She looked so sweet in her oversized glasses, perched on her nose, eyes rolling with interest in a plot she knew so well. You scooted up to the headboard and peeked over her shoulder at the storyboard pages. Sleepily you lay your head on her shoulder, surprised that she even has the energy to read. Your eyes fall lazily on her warm neck, that’s beckoning you to touch it. You toss your head back, fighting away your urges, oh but what will one kiss hurt? You wet your lips and press them against her neck but she doesn’t flinch. Ellie felt how close you had come to her and your lips were like a hot breeze on a cool day. She didn’t lean into you anymore, focusing on her comic, flicking the page.

Your hand travels over her belly, placing your index finger in her shorts, and running it softly along the hem. She loved the feeling of your fingers rubbing against her sensitive waist, tracing her hipbones as she unconsciously shifted at your touch. You lay another kiss but this time closer to her ear, and she twitches at. “Any more crops worth sharing?” You ask.

“Yes, I actually planted herbal seeds.”

You kiss her again but this time your tongue and she melted. She began to feel her lust bud in her short.

“Basil? Oregano? What, use your words Els.” You sputter low into her crease.

Ellie’s eyes closed at the vibrations of your voice echo inside her. When you told her to use her words, she slipped deeper.

“Oh—right, right,” she stumbled as she adjusted her glasses. “Yes to Basil for soup and Sage too.”

“Ahh. Good job, I’m sure I’ll use a lot of this for our dinners.”

Another kiss, but this time you didn’t stop, one after another, the next one harder than the next. Her legs spread wider than before, imagining your lips meeting hers. Her hand reaches for your chest, pushing you away gently, fighting your touch.

“Sorry love, go ‘head and read.” You say not slowing down.

Her finger toils the page, never turning it, eyes focused on the same word as your tongue swirls around her earlobe. She huffs and presses downwards into the mattress. She pulls away again only to remove her glasses and lean in for a kiss. As her lips almost reach yours, you lean your head away from her, her eyebrows raise at your boldness. She thought she was mistaken and approached you again and you rejected her.

She closes her comic and wastes no time to draw her leg over your lap to sit on top of you. She pulls off her shirt to expose her puffy nipples, begging you to kiss them. “Now you don’t wanna touch me?” She spat.

You just remain silent, watching clusters of goosebumps travel across her body as her cheeks turn rosy. You put your hands behind your head as you feel her ass press into your lap, slowly working up into a grind.

“Please?” She whines.

You don’t even react to her advances other than the warmth budding inside your boxers. Ellie’s hands run over your t-shirt, pressing against your nipples as she leans in to pull the tip of her tongue from your collarbones all the way to your neck.

“I need you.” She whispers.

You exhale at hearing her pleads as her hips buck harder against you. But you don’t give in even though her lips feel so warm against your throat. She grabs your hands and runs your index and middle fingers against her bottom lip. She slips the tip of your fingers in her mouth, wrapping her desperate tongue around the length of them. Her lips pucker with saliva as she removes them. She takes your hand and slides it in her shorts and you finally feel how much she wants you.

She lifts up your shirt exposing your freshly washed skin and presses her cold palms against your breasts. A gasp catches in your throat at how good it finally felt to have her skin against yours. She presses her sensitive clit against your calloused fingertips, riding them slow, making sure you felt her.

“Are you really going to do this?” She groans.

“Do what?” You ask, slowly entering your fingers inside her.

She throws her head back, forcing your name out, resting on her hands, twisting her hips upwards, to give you a show. She clinches around your fingers grinding, and you almost droll at her pink hole gripping them so beautifully. Her eyes melt into yours with desire.

“Fuck.” She groans.

You curl your fingers, gently massaging her sweet spot, and she presses down even more, sitting upright and massaging her nipples. But you take her her wrist and use your freehand and clench them in front of her chest.

“Can I cum for you?”

You stare at her, mouth open and eyes wet.

“L-Let me cum for you p-pl-lease.” She stutters as you apply more pressure.

#ellie williams #lesbian #ellie the last of us #sub ellie williams #ellie x y/n #ellie x masc reader #ellie tlou #ellie x you #ellie smut #abby anderson smut #ellie williams smut #masc reader

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anundyingfidelity · 2 months

Text

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part I)

Summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 1,536.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Notes: As soon as I saw him my feminism left my body immediately and my inner voice agreed that I'd let him take away my human rights with no question. He's an absolute idiot, would sleep with him 100%.

Heads up as English is not my native language sooo, yeah you know what follows. Lord pls give me inspo to finish this fic, amen.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part I: For The Common Good

Two months.

Two months ago Grace Mallory decided to put the former greatest supe into sleep. Somehow, you managed to get in her head, explaining your new project to her and finding a new use for Soldier Boy, who had enough rest for 40 years.

You knew what happened at the Seven Tower, how Soldier Boy and Butcher's team ended up there to finally kill Homelander. Grace tried doing some shit against Vought before, but she never managed to win. It wasn't different this time. What was better then, that to develop a cure for supes like you, who didn't ask for it? People who never used their powers in public, nor seeked fame and money.

As a doctor in Chemistry, you were developing a cure for Compound V with a secret team. Suitable for you, you were in the same CIA tower Colonel Mallory decided to encapsulate Soldier Boy to, initially, spend the rest of his days in. You had luck Grace gave green light to the project, even though your team was already working on it without her approval anyway. But it was so much better if she found out properly.

Making your way to the super secured wing where Soldier Boy was held out of his sleep, you gripped the folder in your hands. You were scanned thoroughly before going inside a cold space, where two different crystal windows and metal doors separated the place. The armed guard guided you to the first room to check first through the window. You sighed, seeing a man sitting down, hands cuffed to a harsh steel table, gaze lost. It was him.

"The keys," you requested the guard by your side.

"Doctor-"

"I said, keys. He doesn't need to be cuffed."

He complied to your order, clearly annoyed but with a straight face and you walked to the closed door.

"If something happens, I can take care of myself. Don't let anyone inside understand?" you said.

He gave a nod. With that, he let you inside the room, the doors closing behind your back.

The prisoner observed you carefully as soon as you entered. His gaze was tired, but he seemed ready to attack, and it was completely hard to ignore his rough stare on you as you made your way to your seat in front of him. Soldier Boy observed you, placing the folder on the surface, and you held his gaze, not flinching for a second. Until you decided to talk first.

"I am glad you're awake. My name is Y/N, I am a doctor at the facility. Just wanna know how you're doing today," you spoke in a calm and soft way, so he could see you were not a threat.

He saw you roaming through the pages of the file, which he recognized as a copy of his file, and you took a pen from your lab coat to make some anotations.

"Not a smart move to let a fucking doctor here," he said with a deep voice, lips forming a straight line. "What do you want?"

"I want to help you."

"Cut the bullshit."

"I want to talk. If you let me, I will uncuff you so we can have a chat, like civilized people. Just don't try to escape, you won't go too far."

He raised an eyebrow as you reached his wrists and carefully, you set him free from the metal grip.

"I know what happened with Butcher and his boys," you said, confident that he would not try anything else. "About Homelander and your relationship with him."

"What the fuck do you know?" Soldier Boy tensed visibly hearing the name of the bastard. Still, he remained on his seat. "Want some info? You can lick Grace's pussy for that."

"She is, actually, the one who approved me to be here right now," you answered, brushing off his vocabulary. You used to deal with assholes like him all the time.

He scoffed. "Why?"

"Ben," you called his real name softly. "You've been sleeping for four decades. You deserve a second chance, I am offering you that. In some sort of way."

"I'm not going to be part of that freakshow-"

"This has nothing to do with Vought," you cut his words, his tone rising and you knew perfectly why. "You just need to be here in the facility, awake, in a dignified place we will give you so you can learn everything you missed. We can give you therapy, a comfy room, anything you want that's legal, of course..."

His jaw clenched, feeling you would ask for something more. "In exchange of what?"

"I know it's hard, unfortunately you won't be able to get out, but you don't deserve to sleep forever again," you sighed. "I will pay you visits and follow your improvements because you're human, after all. That's all I ask from you," you gave him a smile for the first time.

For a few moments, he said nothing, as if making up his mind about it. "Alright, anything but coming back to that shit hole. I need reefer though."

"Lucky you, that's legal now. We can certainly make it happen."

He looked around the room as you let him go inside first. Not the fanciest, not the shittiest. It had the basics: a bed, a sofa, a TV, a closet, a bookshelf with different books, magazines and newspapers he wasn't sure would read any time, a separate door for a bathroom, enough privacy, and no windows though. It wasn't really a cell, but he did look and felt somehow like a hostage. Just a little less if he could say.

"This is what we have for now, I am all ears if you request something else to have in here," you began as he paced around and tested the bed, sitting down on the mattress.

Ben still wasn't convinced on why you offered this to him. Sceptic, he gave a good look at you, roaming his eyes at your standing figure in a fucking lab coat. Christ, he hated those. Too pretty for a doctor, but too dumb to be locked with a supe like him. He was so tired that he didn't try and hit on you like he normally would with any walking pussy that appeared in plain sight. He was too exhausted to even give a shit.

"Lemme think about it, doctor."

"Of course, take your time," you replied as he walked toward the bookshelf, scanning through the titles there were. He recognized only half of them.

"So, I will be imprisoned here instead of a fucking eggshell," Ben said, turning around to meet you. "Charming," he smirked, dragging the words out of his mouth. "Doing charity."

He watched your face drop as you shook your head. "It's not like that-"

"Then why keep me awake?" Ben insisted as he gave steps to get close to you. "I can't die, it's much easier to force my sleep in a capsule your boss made specially for me."

He stopped mere inches in front of you, your eyes never turned away from him. He thought you were fucking brave just by keeping his dark gaze.

"Ben, I told you I will be watching your progress. You can grow from all of this with our help-"

"What kind of doctor are you?"

"A psychiatrist. That's why I'm here."

Ben scoffed with a grin showing on his lips. He didn't believe in that kind of shit, but oh, well. What was he gonna do about it? He was tired of sleeping, Mallory captured him, and you were here, giving him a shelter for no cost, but his freedom. In his mind, that was temporary of course. With time, a plan would come. Right now, he just needed to keep up with the fucked up things of the modern world.

"I guess you would come and babysit me then," he said, going back to take a sit on the bed.

"Wouldn't use 'babysit you' but I will come to see you, that's for sure."

He nodded. Silence was his answer, so you continued.

"Just general rules. Our people will bring you three meals a day, if you're missing something that you need then just push the button by the door, there will be guards outside to assist you on that. Also, there are clothes your size on the closet and personal products so you can change and take a shower," he stayed silent again, just taking in your words. "If you don't need anything then I leave you to get comfortable," you said, about to leave.

"Wait. I do need something," he hesitated for a moment, but he continued anyway. "Don't use those lab coats when you come in."

Your eyes widened, he quickly realised you already knew why he was requesting that when you started to take off the coat, revealing your formal attire. You wrapped the coat on your arm and cleaned your throat.

"I totally understand, I will keep that in mind when I come tomorrow. And I will ask for your reefer too."

You flashed a final polite smile and left him to get settled. Ben breathed out. Fuck, he really needed a shower.

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys amazon #the boys series #the boys tv #the boys fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles

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blacknedsoul-blog · 8 months

Text

The divorce of the White Raven was the chronicle of a foretold death

Now that the White Raven divorce officially begins tomorrow. I wanted to do a little review of why I've been looking forward to this moment for over 40 chapters and the delicious drama to come.

The chapters of Annabel and Lenore talking in the greenhouse are wonderful for many reasons, but mainly because they lay the groundwork for what the conflicts in their relationship will be from now on, simply put: these two just aren't on the same page.

Annabel wants to save them both, Lenore wants to save everyone.

Annabel calls Lenore "my favorite," "my darling," and "my petal"; Lenore understands "my companion animal" (and Annabel doesn't bother to clarify).

Lenore says they are friends; Annabel clearly knows they were a couple.

Annabel tries to kiss her goodbye on the lips; Lenore kisses her hand.

As the comic progresses -and especially with the last chapter released by the Freepass- the more fundamental root of this problem becomes more apparent: the White Raven don't really know each other, they think they do and, incidentally, insist on not listening to each other.

The Annabel Lenore Knows

The "disappointment rooms" are a Victorian myth (I say "myth" because there is no evidence that they were a widespread practice, although there are cases like Blanche Monnier's, they did not seem to be particularly common. But they exist in this comic, so they will be treated as real in this essay) were isolated rooms where a family member with a mental illness or physical deformity was kept isolated from the world, making him or her an outcast.

We don't know the real reasons why Annabel wanted to get close to Lenore (this scene make it clear that it was of her own free will, something Lenore knows), but anyway, this was extremely strange at the time, the kind of thing that could severely damage someone's reputation if it became public.

In other words, for Lenore, Annabel not only pulled her out of the spiral of madness she was in, made her feel alive again, and treated her like a person (something that hadn't happened since Theo's death); she also put her reputation on the line to get closer to "the crazy woman in the attic".

Add to that the fact that Annabel, like Lenore, is someone with an extremely protective personality, albeit in a much more subtle way: containing Lenore's outbursts by trying to distract her, complimenting her when she doubts herself, trying to give her a sense of purpose by asking her to write her a song, and automatically containing her own panic attack when she sees Lenore's horrified expression.

To Lenore, Annabel is someone who would rather destroy something that makes her happy and be hated than let Lenore suffer for her absence.

This is a gigantic contrast to the Annabel readers know, yes, the basics are there: she is seen to genuinely care about Prospero, and gratuitous violence against someone who cannot defend himself infuriates her. But Lenore does not dimension how Annabel's methods of survival (shaped by her trauma of not being heard, reasons why she machines her way through people) make her a Machiavellian, manipulative and cold-blooded person.

The last time Lenore saw Annabel in a situation where she could do nothing, she saw her give up. But readers know that this time, Annabel is willing to burn absolutely everything down to get them both out of it.

That is why the Duke affair takes her by surprise. Never mind that Annabel has said she's willing to destroy or trample anyone to get out of Nevermore. The Annabel Lenore knows would not be capable of that.

The Lenore Annabel knows

This part is more difficult to analyze, because unfortunately Annabel's memories are tied to big mysteries within the plot. On the plus side, this comic is excellent at dropping large amounts of information at the point of detail.

The most obvious: Annabel is carrying around the ring Lenore had when she burned down her house, in other words, "Leo's" charade worked so well that the two of them got engaged. In other words: Annabel has seen this woman burn down a family home (perhaps with servants inside), fake her own death, steal, take a continental trip, change her identity and pose as a man, all to save her from an arranged marriage.

A very "you and me against the world" situation. A scenario Lenore made possible by lying to basically everyone, even Annabel herself, who must have spent at least a few months believing Lenore was dead until "Leo" knocked on her door.

Add to that these two scenes: in the first, Annabel seems pretty convinced that Lenore has a good idea of what's going on here...

And in this one, Annabel thinks Lenore is doing this out of guilt.

Again, this is a huge contrast to the Lenore we readers have seen throughout the comic: a person who desperately wants to show others the affection and security that no one (except Theo and Annabel) has given her. A mix of a naturally vivacious and caring personality with traumas from which her need for control stems from anxiety and a terrible fear of abandonment.

In this light, Annabel putting Duke in danger to keep Montressor away from Lenore was something that was informed, known, and something that Lenore would agree with, because the Lenore she knows would be willing to sacrifice anything to achieve her goal.

In that sense, that scene is foreshadowing. Not only did Lenore trick her into using a memory that Annabel does not have, but it comes right after Annabel confidently says that "no one knows Lenore better than she does.

The masks

One of the most painful tragedies of the White Raven relationship (besides the fact that it ended with both of them dead) is that one of the two has had to wear a mask on both sides of it: Annabel pretending that this relationship isn't as deeply ingrained in her as it really is, and then Lenore doing the whole "Leo" thing to be "the perfect fiancé" in everyone else's eyes.

Their divorce is imminent because both of them (especially Annabel) are projecting onto the other the expectations they have that are a product of the few memories they have been able to recover, rather than really looking at the person in front of them.

I'm going to enjoy all the beautiful character development that comes from here on out, because they both have a lot of unpacking to do separately from this divorce arc. And, I hope that, when they can finally reconcile, we also get to see how, for the first time in the history of their relationship, Annabel and Lenore can actually see eye to eye.

#annabel lee nevermore #annabel lee whitlock #lenore nevermore #lenore vandernacht #nevermore webtoon #white raven #lennabel #divorce arc #Appreciate the quality of the damn captures #Took me forever to get them

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munsonfamilyband · 3 months

Text

In Everything But Blood

Alright, I finished the giant paper I had to write (40 pages jesus christ) and then grad school kind of kicked my ass for a while BUT I AM HERE, back from a months long hiatus to finally write the claudia henderson thing I wrote weeks ago. Enjoy, there will be more but this was so long and I only got to like halfway through it but I wanted to post this.

TW!!!! Seriously TW, graphic descriptions of gore and injuries, medical talk, THIS IS NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE GRAPHIC ON PURPOSE

~~~~~~~~~~

Steve wasn't fully aware of how he was still moving but he wasn't going to question it as he sprints into the hospital behind Nancy and Robin, Eddie draped over his back and getting blood everywhere, Dustin limping as fast as he could behind them. He would probably be panicking more if he couldn't feel the little puffs of air Eddie was breathing out every few seconds against his neck.

The nurses all turn to the doors when Nancy slams them open and while there are already plenty of people who look worse for wear in the waiting room, no one looks quite like the group that just walked in. They're all covered in dirt and ash and sweat and lake water and blood blood bloodbloodblood-

Okay, maybe Steve is starting to panic a little.

Nancy yells for help when no one immediately moves and the gun she's holding definitely helps encourage any nurses and doctors to get over any issues they have treating Eddie.

Robin has to pry Steve's hands off of Eddie's pants. He didn't want to let him go, too scared that he would die and Steve wouldn't be there to help. She manages to gently guide him away from the doors they took Eddie through and she sits him down in a chair before sitting next to him and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"He'll be okay, Stevie. We got him here, he's okay."

Steve knows that she's only saying it to help calm him down, and probably to calm herself down too, but he appreciates it all the same.

As they sit there Steve feels the adrenaline starting to fade and he gets a very stark reminder of how his sides are stinging and every breath makes his shirt rub against the scrapes on his back and arms. If he hadn't been in a state of panic already, worried about Eddie and Max and Lucas and Erica and-

He takes a deep breath and leans into Robin's weight at his side. He can't get help yet, not until he knows everyone else is okay.

(If he were feeling braver he might also admit that he's been a little scared of doctors since Scoops, but he's not feeling very brave at the moment.)

A little while later Steve sees Lucas and Erica and forces himself to stand, hurrying over to check on them, to find out where Max is. He instantly knows that something went wrong when Erica slams into him and holds on tight. He only gets more concerned when Lucas leans in to hold onto Erica and Steve at the same time. And then the pit gets bigger when he feels tears hit his shirt.

"Lucas, hey, you're alright. Hey, look at me- hey. What happened? Where's Max?" Steve stares at Lucas's face as he speaks, trying to get an idea of how he's feeling.

Lucas takes a shuddering breath in before he answers, "She-she-.. it was going fine and then... Jason-Jason fuckin'- he crushed her Walkman and I couldn't-she was floating and Jason had-had a gun and I-She was-was dead, for a minute, and then she-she just started breathing again and I dont-"

Steve pulls Lucas closer again, a hand on the back of his neck to give him support as he spoke quietly. "Okay, alright, you did good. She's here, right? She'll be okay. She's gonna be okay." Steve stayed there with them for who knows how long, only separating when he heard a familiar voice gasp from the door.

"Oh thank god, Erica, Lucas!"

Both of them turned to see their mom in the waiting room and ran at her, where she met them in a crushing hug. As Sue held her children close she looked up, tears falling and made eye contact with Steve. Steve saw her mouth 'Thank you' to him and it made his stomach fall to his feet. Sue had always adored Steve for protecting her kids, first from Billy and then in the "fire" at the mall. But this time, Steve was the reason they got hurt. He let them go off on their own and they got hurt.

He nods and walks back over to Robin and Dustin where they're sitting, suddenly remembering his injuries again as he moves away from the Sinclairs. He has to force himself to walk normally just to make it to the chair, only to nearly collapse back into it.

~~~~

"Alright, time to go, Dust. Now that your foot's been treated I really need to get you home. Claudia is going to start calling morgues if I don't," Steve grunts out as he helps heave Dustin out of his seat and get settled on his crutches. Robin stands once Dustin is steady and she follows them out of the hospital and climbs into the passenger of Steve's car. (Nancy had left once Eddie was taken to stash the RV somewhere and she came back with his beemer. Steve isn't going to ask.)

The ride to Dustin's house is quiet, Steve can tell each of them is silently asking anything out there that the Henderson house was spared. Thankfully when they pulled into the driveway the house was in one piece and only seconds after parking Claudia is yanking open the front door and running out to meet them at the car.

She runs up to Dustin who had managed to stand up using the car as support and they both cling to each other in tears. Steve watches them for a moment before he has to look away or he'll start crying. He spaces out for a bit, just holding Robin's hand when he get startled by the harsh knocks on his window. Looking up, he locks eyes with Claudia and he can't quite read her expression but he can hear her say, "Get your butt out of that car, Steve, I need to look at you. You too, Robbie."

He and Robin make eye contact for a split second before hurrying to comply. As soon as Steve is standing fully he finds himself being yanked down into a hug, Claudia's arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Steve has to take a deep, shaky breath and blink very quickly to stop any tears. He loves Claudia's hugs, they feel like birthdays and Christmas and being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket with hot chocolate all at once. When he hears her mumbling about how glad she is that he's okay, well, maybe he cries a little.

After he and Robin are both fully looked at by Claudia and then each given at least 3 hugs, they climb back into his car and pull away form the Hendersons.

"Am I taking you home or are you coming with me?" Steve glances over at Robin as he says it. He knows the answer without he responding, just because her face pinches in the way it does when she's afraid of making Steve sad.

"I know last time we went to yours but I just... I need to see my parents. I'm so sorry-"

"Robs, it's okay to want to check on your parents. I'm not upset. Can you just.. keep your walkie on our channel tonight?" Steve glances at her again, getting hit with another Robin look that says she can see right through him.

"Always, Stevie. I am sorry though, I hate the idea of you in that house alone."

"I'll be okay, Robbie. I'm just gonna sleep as soon as I get home anyways."

Robin stares at him for a moment longer and then nods, grabbing one of his hands to hold in hers for the last half of the drive. She only lets it go to give him a tight squeeze before hurrying out of the car to her front door.

Steve waits until she's safely inside before he pulls away and goes to his own house.

The moment he shuts the door behind himself it feels like all of the energy in his body has been drained away. He can barely keep himself standing, only the pain that shoots down his spin when he leans back onto the door keeps him upright.

He forces himself to trudge upstairs and goes right to the bathroom. He starts with getting the clothes off, deciding to just cut them off so he doesn't have to lift his arms.

Then comes the cleaning. He first tries to shower but he can only handle standing with pressured water pelting his back and soap stinging his feet for a minute at the most. When he gives up on the shower he figures he should at least try to clean the bites.

One second he's standing in front of the mirror and reaching to pull off the fabric, the next his whole body is covered in sweat and he's sitting on his ass on the tile floor. His hands are shaking at he wants to vomit from the pain.

No changing the bandage then.

Steve forces himself to at least wash his face and hands with a washcloth before he collapses directly into bed and falling asleep in seconds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claudia is worried. She had already been a little concerned when Steve showed up two days earlier for lunch with a flushed face and too pale skin. She watched him and he didn't act any different but she kept note of it so that she could watch him. But then, when they were supposed to have lunch at 12 and Steve still hadn't shown up or even called by 1, well, Claudia was concerned. Steve always insisted on being on time, claiming it came from all the sports he had done (but she had heard him mumble about his parents harassing him about being late before when he had a head injury, so she just nodded along to his excuses). Being an hour late was entirely out of character and something in her gut, the same feeling she had experienced multiple times over the past few years about her Dusty, told her that she needed to go see him, and soon.

Dustin was thankfully not at home, spending the afternoon with the Wheelers, so she didn't have to tell him what was happening before she got into her car and drove to Steve's house.

What greeted her when she parked only made her more nervous. Steve, she had noticed, had strange habits relating to many things. He had to sit close enough to touch the person next to him, he tried to hide it but he never kept alcohol in the house anymore, he kept the curtains closed facing the backyard, and he always, always leaves the porch light on.

But that afternoon in early April, the porch light was off.

Claudia parked quickly and hurried to the front door, not even bothering with knocking. Instead she pulled out the key Steve had made for her and Dusty after the previous summer and let herself in.

The dread that had been growing in her gut only intensified when she entered the house and a very familiar smell hit her nose.

Body odor, sweat and salt and morning breath.

Bodily fluids, urine and vomit. And blood.

Infection, sickly sweet rot mixing with something like ammonia.

Time seemed to freeze as Claudia ran up the stairs, calling Steve's name all the while. She knew those smells, she had dealt with them at work too many times to not know them, and to smell them in relation to Steve made her blood run cold. She needed to see him, this boy who cared for her Dusty so much, this boy who had wormed his way into her heart, this boy who was her son.

Rushing into Steve's room she was greeted by her worst fears. Steve was lying on his bed, the sheets clearly kicked off and tangled around his ankles. He was only wearing his boxers and they had clearly not been changed in a few days, stained with his sweat and urine. His skin was covered in sweat, his chest and cheeks were bright red and the rest of his skin was a waxy yellow. He was shirtless, vomit covering his chin and chest and staining the pillow and sheets below him. He had what looked like scraps of a sweater or shirt wrapped loosely around his stomach. It was filthy, saturated with sweat, blood, dirt and pus. The smell in the room was much stronger than by the front door, her eyes watering briefly before she forced herself to focus. She was a nurse, she could handle this.

Claudia moved to the bed and gently kneeled onto the mattress. As she moved closer she could hear Steve mumbling to himself but it was so quiet and so slurred that nothing was legible. Claudia placed a hand on his forehead and jerked back in shock at how hot his skin was. Glancing around frantically for anything to help she saw the phone at his bedside table and grabbed it, punching in 911 before cradling the receiver between her ear and shoulder as she continued to check over Steve.

The next moments all passed in a blur for Claudia as she explained who she was and where she was to the dispatcher before they hung up and she waited for the ambulance to arrive. The ride to the hospital passed in what seemed like a blink of an eye and suddenly Claudia found herself in the empty waiting room at Hawkins General and she became aware of two equally important facts.

Her sweater and hands were saturated with Steve's sweat and blood.

She needed to call Robin.

The blood would have to wait, because she knew that Robin would want to be there for Steve so she managed to wipe her hand with some tissues before dialing the Buckley's house.

"Buckley residence, this is Robin," Robin's voice came through the receiver and Claudia let out a loud sigh.

"Robbie, honey, thank goodness you're home. I have some bad news. I'm at the hospital right now sweetie, it's about Steve." Claudia paused after she finished speaking, waiting to see what Robin would say. Unfortunately for Claudia, rather than saying anything, she had to listen to a gut wrenching gasp and sob from Robin, so she chose to keep talking. "I went to his house and found him in his room. I think he had been hurt and it got infected. If your parents are home, I think you should come here, he would want you here."

Robin mumbled a few okays, clearly through tears before she hung up. In the silence after Claudia had no choice but to go clean herself up, allowing herself a minute to collapse onto a toilet seat and cry. Her boy was hurt and she couldn't help him, he was so hurt he didn't even know she was there and she didn't know what to do.

Robin arrived about 10 minutes after they ended their call with a surprise in tow.

Jim Hopper, thinner and without a mustache, but somehow alive and marching into the hospital like he was going into hell. Knowing about his daughter, he probably felt like he was in hell.

Robin spotted Claudia first and ran over to her, arms open and Claudia pulled her right into a tight hug, rocking her back and forth the way Steve always loves. Robin held back just as tight and cried into her shoulder while Claudia whispered to her, "He'll be okay, he's going to be okay."

Jim didn't say anything, just nodded - as if she hadn't thought he was dead until that moment - before he collapsed into a chair, head in his hands and knee bouncing with anxiety.

Hours passed, Robin had curled herself up in a chair next to Claudia and was leaning into her side. Jim had moved to sit on the other side of Robin and surprisingly she reached out and held his hand.

After ages of sitting there in silence a doctor walked through the doors. Claudia recognized her immediately and knew that she had been lucky to find Steve alive if she had been called in. Dr. Graham was one of the only wound specialists they had at the hospital and she focused on the worst cases.

Claudia straightened in her seat, her two companions also coming to attention as Dr. Graham came to sit with them.

"Hello, Claudia. I'm sorry you had to come in on your day off but you got very lucky. If you hadn't brought him in today he may have gone into sepsis. Thankfully he has you listed as his emergency contact so I can fill you in on everything. I want to start by saying that he is currently stable and on heavy medication. He had multiple heavily infected wounds, primarily on his abdomen but there was also apparent road rash across the back of his arms and upper back. We were able to debride the wounds from the rash relatively easily but his abdomen was more difficult. The bandage he had been using was extremely dirty and not made for wound coverage so many fibers had been imbedded into the open wounds. Luckily there had been little necrotizing fasciitis but there was enough that we had to remove the dead tissue. I do want to make sure you understand that he was very seriously injured and delayed treatment made it worse. We are going to test the pus we collected for different bacteria to narrow down the treatment for him but I'm thinking it may be leptospirosis, since he is visibly jaundiced and the injures are obviously animal bites. We have him sedated currently and on heavy antibiotics in the ICU. If you wear protective gear you can visit him for a little bit, but only people on his emergency contact list can come."

Claudia's head was spinning, she was hearing the words being said and she was following the doctor down the hall to the ICU. She was putting paper scrubs on over her clothes and donning a mask and gloves, but it was all in a daze. She needed to see Steve, she needed to see him breathing, then she would be okay.

She was not okay.

Seeing Steve only made her collapse into a chair in tears. He looked so small in the hospital bed, wrapped in wires and tubes. But he was breathing. Robin collapsed onto the foot of his bed and bent over his shins while she sobbed and Jim stumbled into the wall by the door with a hand over his eyes as his shoulders shook with silent anguish. They knew he wasn't out of the woods yet, but he was breathing and he had to be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alright that was part one, I'm working on the next half but wow that ended up being really long

Taglist

@maya-custodios-dionach @ape31 @eldtritchlizardblast @y4r3luv @devondespresso @zerokrox-blog @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @estrellami-1 @jonesn4coffee @whatexactlyismyhoohah @lingeringmirth @my-hyperfixations-hell-blog @spectrum-spectre @steddieasitgoes @puppy-steve @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @nburkhardt @sllooney @princessstevemunson @yellowdevilkitten @emchant3d @steddie-island @afewproblems

#steddie #it will be happening in the next part just not yet #stranger things #steve harrington #platonic stobin #robin buckley #claudia henderson #parental jim hopper #i just tagged a bunch of people who responded to the last post lmao #this was so interesting to write because i am such a fucking nerd that I spent like 5 minutes searching for common bacterial infections #specifically from animal bites #please enjoy my word vomit of emotional unloading #my period gave me the motivation to do this

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whalesforhands · 3 months

Text

it exists only here

geto suguru holds onto your ghost in the trivial silence of the night.

HBD GETO SUGURU

“Geto-sama, you have an audience with an Amano Kiriko and her father in approximately 30 minutes.”

The cult leader doesn’t say a word, the stalk of pink carnation getting nicked a little too close to its petals for his comfort, his pruning shears threatening the beauty of the flora in his hand.

He thought he had it this time.

Now it’s too short. The osmanthus flowers he had spent so much time intricately placing together will go to waste… Dumb rocks and leaves that took way too long to work in harmony with each other. He sighs, frustration coursing through his tensed arms whilst staring down at the already ruined flower despite the beauty it still retained. It just didn’t fit in well with the image he had in mind. So beautiful, yet so useless now.

Should he just redo it? Amethyst orbs follow the stalk up to where it’s now currently being held up to the hanging lamp light, whiffs of its sweet scent reaching his nose as he glares. He ponders and ponders, his eyes closing to savour the fragrance.

So sweet.

“Tell Amaya-san we’re postponing. I’m busy.” Can’t you see how preoccupied he is with this? It obviously takes precedence over some worthless monkey.

A little more suffering won’t do them any harm.

The silence drags, yet Manami Suda does not break the tense stillness any further, does not even correct her superior on his mispronunciation. What use is there for him to remember a mere monkey’s name?

“Understood, Geto-sama. I will move your meeting back by 40 minutes.” She bows low, her gaze kept towards the ground before she turns on her heel and makes her way out, shiny hair bouncing with every step as she makes it a point to close the door behind her as gently, as silently possible.

It seems that her handsome boss is having one of those days again.

A quiet creak of his door and heel clicks that disappear with distance until they were no more.

It’s now that he realizes he’s alone again, silently staring down at the blush pink of the petals in his hand. He twirls the stalk over and over between his fingers as the silence stretches and stretches. It overwhelms him, his thoughts just a little too loud in the blaring quietude.

“Suguru, you don’t look well.” A warm hand against his forehead, your worried gaze and a soft voice. Touch shifting away and making him nearly chase after your comfort.

(Just for a little longer.)

“Have you been eating properly?” You’re sad, lips downturned into a frown that makes him regret ever looking so gaunt— So weak. He wants to placate you, wants to assure you.

“I’m fine—“

“Nope!” An interruption of an all too boisterous voice, lanky arms immediately hooking around both of you as you’re both pulled towards an all too excited Satoru. “So what say we go out and treat him some good ol’ soba?”

His head is starting to hurt again. A grit of his teeth and shears clattering onto the wooden table, frustrated sigh and slumping of his shoulders to ease this tension within his body. He doesn’t want to think, doesn’t want to feel so… Bad.

It’s only then that his hands reach for the book that was upon the chabudai he sat at, trembling fingers finally making contact with the old paper, the slightly frayed pages easing the stress in his mind, the roar in his ears.

His fingers would trace well-worn, yellowed pages of an all too old shoujo manga, familiar pages that had a noticeable dent in them from how beloved they were by the previous owner. It takes him back, makes his hands reach into traces of the past. Away from this headache inducing present, away from his pain.

“There you are. I bought those famous Kiyoken shumai—“ He freezes in his tracks, his eyes widening and eyebrows raising in shock and worry when he chanced upon your teary gaze, your expression akin to a deer caught in headlights as you look at him with shiny, gemlike eyes and tears that had already spilled, rolling down your embarrassed cheeks.

He takes only a moment to recover, only silently walking forward to plop the plastic bag onto the dining table, giving you a quick once-over before patting your head, as you squeak in stunned surprise, his hand combing down your hair gently before he turns on his heel, steps heavy, quick and a threatening smile upon his face. He starts cracking his knuckles for good measure, his aura flaring into one of intimidation as he gets ready to beat a certain someone up.

“I’ll kill him.”

“S-Suguru— Wait! It’s not Satoru’s fault!” You’re already up on your feet, running to intercept him and grabbing onto his arm, using all your strength to hold him back as you feel your socked feet start to drag across the floor, his strength uninhibited by your attempt.

An innocent, accusatory lilt of his voice as he stops, turning to face you. “Oh? I don’t feel very merciful today—“

“I was crying because of a manga!” Blurted out with a shameful, humiliated voice, your arms hugging his one to your chest even tighter. Your eyes are squeezed shut as your face burns and burns with growing mortification that makes you want to curl up and die and possibility cry even more.

And that calms him down in an instant.

That memory still makes him chuckle, a hand under his chin as his eyes blink at the imagery formed in his head. Mindless flipping of the pages causes him to land on a scene that’s been bookmarked far too many times. He knows this line by heart.

“Till the stars fall down and empty from the sky—“ You sniffle, cutting yourself off and letting Suguru dab the tears treading down your cheeks as you don’t even try to resist, or even pull away from his thoroughly amused self.

“I-It’s just so romantic, okay…?!”

“Hmm?” His smile only seems to grow wider as he leans forth, handkerchief is abandoned in favour of using his thumb, gently tapping at the tears forming again in the corner of your eyes to tease you. “I wouldn’t really know if you don’t finish, will I?”

“B-but I’ll just cry—“ You quickly press his abandoned handkerchief to your nose, a sorry attempt at trying to drag your expressions away to quell the burning shame of having to face him. “Way more, Suguru…!”

“Cry all you want then.” His hand goes to hold your cheek, settling your face in his hand and chuckling as he pats your head, smiling softly, gently, warmly at the way you’re starting to bawl even harder somehow. “I’ll be here to wipe your tears away for you.”

A lock of his hair flitters in front of him, breaking him out of his nostalgic trance as a breeze blows in, as if caressing the strands with tender curiosity. A hand reaches up to thoughtlessly twirl it, amaranth eyes finally opening to bring himself back to reality.

Should he cut his hair soon?

“Suguru, you cut it?!” Satoru holds the boy’s face in his hands, shaking him back and forth and whining his disappointment. “Whyyyyyy?! How could you do that to our beautiful hair?!”

“Our…? Satoru, last I checked it was attached to my scal—“

“No…”

You’re devastated as you sat behind him, fingers slotted inbetween smooth strands that have now been slashed into shortened locks, trampling on your dreamy imagery of his gorgeous hair, your arms hugging around his waist from behind as your face buries into his shoulder to weep for the loss of his beauty.

“Our pretty hair…”

“…aren’t you both being a little overdramatic?”

He feels his heart shake, an ache that yearned to be eased when he opens his eyes to realize that he’s all alone. No matter how far those memories seemed to be, whenever he closed his eyes… It always seemed to be filled with an image of those precious days.

Steadying himself with a sigh and getting up onto his socked feet, he stretches his arms and lets his joints pop.

He should stop thinking about these things.

——

It’s fun.

Geto Suguru is having fun. A stutter in his chest, a fleeting feel in his heart as he exchanged blows. Different from those other students, so similar to that certain someone. Dodging, parrying, summoning, running, bleeding.

So fast. So purposeful in every hit, so unnatural, so talented.

Okkotsu Yuuta was the perfect sorcerer. A curse technique with so much potential, an aura of budding, endless possibilities. Why, oh, why does he still stand with the lesser beings, the lesser race?

His wooden clogs skid across concrete as he stands his ground, a smirk of condemnation and displeasure evident as he spits out a mouthful of blood and metallic ire.

He’ll show him. Show this boy the disparity of their power, the difference in their leagues of playing field as he wipes the remnants of crimson off his mouth, the stinging bruise upon his cheek from where he was bunched pulsating with an urge to destroy. To conquer.

“Cursed Spirit Manipulation: Supreme Art,” A taunting point of his finger upwards, crazed grin upon his face. Bear witness to his overwhelming strength, to his irrepressible supremacy. He doesn’t need anything else when he’s drunk off of power. “Uzumaki.”

Swirling black and daunting shadows form at his fingertip, echos of screams and damned cries of the beasts he’s consumed billowing within.

“Okkotsu,” His face is in a state of a proud, manic insanity, shivers of lustful victory trembling his bones. “I’m glad I could kill you before you managed to fully wield Orimoto Rika.”

This is it. Geto Suguru’s victory, the beginning of the end for this Jujutsu Society. Once this boy dies, he will absorb the Queen of Curses, he will be strong enough to finally change this wretched world for the better.

Would he be satisfied then? Would he finally feel that he’s avenged—

Okkotsu Yuuta doesn’t say a word, a shining determination in his gaze as his back is turned to his enemy, a tentative hand upon the curse that followed him as he called her name. The name of the girl he had known, had loved all this time.

“Rika.” A small whisper into the cursed being’s supposed ear. “I’ll give you everything,” A breath is taken. “My body, my heart, my soul…”

Geto Suguru wants to feel disgusted at the sight.

“I love you, Rika.”

The light hits the silver of the young boy’s ring, metal glinting and catching the attention of the cult leader who was kind enough to let that poor kid say his final words.

“Thank you for always protecting me.” It’s odd, repulsive, Suguru thinks as his ears catch wind of those sugary sweet lines. How warm those words feel, how they’re said with such a bittersweet mirth, how it’s almost like it resembles your—

“Suguru.” Your voice is quiet, your presence a fading comfort as he barely feels it within this empty room.

He feels a phantom warmth, a non-existent touch lightly caressing his cold, gaunt face. A contact that he doesn’t want to let up as his hands reach up only to feel nothingness and an unbearable lurch of his throat.

An aftertaste weighs heavy on his tongue, like a rag that had been used to wipe up vomit. Ringing in his ears as his nose feels clogged, nigh unbreathable. Does it even matter if he doesn’t reply? Will it matter if he tries to will away that distorted voice of yours?

Geto Suguru sees red, sees looming metal doors, hears the thundering jeers of a cult, hears a scream of your name, feels the building terror and anguish of his heart in full.

Feels like he doesn’t know why you’re here now.

Think, Suguru. Why are you of all people appearing right in this crucial moment? What do you want? What are you trying to do? What are you trying to say?

If you had one thing to say to him right now, what would it be?

“Thank you for falling in love with me.”

A sharp intake of air to snap himself out of it, the odd chorus of Yuuta’s voice and yours mixing and mashing up in his head, his pupils dilating and finally focusing back into the battle at hand. It isn’t like him to lose his focus like this. Isn’t like him to get so distracted by a haunting thought.

“Aren’t you quite the player, Okkotsu Yuuta?” His words end on an annoyed growl, a building temper to supplement the forgotten rage in his heart.

But this is what he wants, isn’t it?

“That’s rude.” Okkotsu Yuuta is deadpan, his face set in a tone of utmost sincerity and seriousness.

“This is true love.”

And Geto Suguru wonders if that’s what went wrong as he gets swallowed by an explosion of pink and white.

——

Geto Suguru thought he would at least go out with more grace. A little more flair, in a burst of Hollow Purple or a deep Red.

But not like this.

Not with his back against an alleyway wall, slid down to the ground in pathetic defeat, not whilst he’s missing an arm, bleeding out and searingly painful.

Not while Gojo Satoru stares him down like that in his final moments.

“You’re late,” He just can’t help the smile on his face that forms as his voice traces those beloved words after far too long. “Satoru.”

An exchange of words, their conversation that took place. From the safety of Suguru’s newfound family, to the battle with Satoru’s students… Suguru realizes that what was once his cold, hardened heart was starting to stir with nostalgia, a flutter in his chest that makes him want to get lost in this conversation for just a bit longer; even if the expression on Satoru’s face was blank, empty.

Even if he never smiled at him anymore.

So he takes his time, drawing out each word and sentence and mindless thought that had been churned into a flitter in his stomach that makes him think that it isn’t so bad to be on the losing end.

That it isn’t so bad that this is his end.

And when all was said and done, it goes silent. Comfortingly so in this bitter atmosphere that makes him forget about the stale iron in his mouth and his defeated heart that had nothing left to hide.

It’s hard to say that Geto Suguru was satisfied just yet.

“Do you… Still think I’m a good person?” It’s sudden, a taboo scab nobody, not even Geto himself had wanted to pick at. A wound that never quite gelled over. But— It’s fine because it’s here. It’s fine because it’s right now. Because these trivial, meaningless conversations are what make him feel whole, make him find meaning amongst all his doubt.

“Yeah.” A pause as the honoured one takes in a breath, the squeezing of his palms into tight fists as his glowing eyes begin to soften to shimmery radiance. “I bet she would still think so too.”

That’s not true. Geto Suguru feels, knows it just cannot be, no matter how much his broken heart yearns to believe it. It’s for that reason that he finally lets out a laugh, eyes turning into crescents to match his satisfied smile.

“I killed tons of innocent people, you know?”

There’s no way you would ever look at him the same way.

“You can go and ask her personally, then.” Gojo Satoru sounds so steady, so confident and brazen with his threat; that it sounds like a consolation to Geto Suguru, that it leaves him in utter disbelief at the man’s faith in him, his belief that a damned person like him would ever get to reunite with the likes of you.

Though, it brings him peace in this moment.

“Maybe I will.” It’s his final reassurance, stemming from a hope that he gets to be together with you once more, a last solace for his painful, aching soul in the silence that follows after.

“It’s disappointing, Satoru.”

His eyes blink as he leans his head back against the grimy wall, letting out a breath to soothe the staggering gnawing at his conscience. “That I couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world anymore.”

Not when it turned out like this.

A beat passes, and yet another as Suguru finally feels his body beginning to crumble, vision starting to blur as he starts to see brightness in his dimming eyes. It’s okay. It’s okay now because—

It’s over.

He sees his beloved squat down, coming down onto this pitiful level to meet eyes with him. What is he—

Sincere blue to fading purple, parting lips that start mouthing words that he didn’t think he deserved to hear. He knows that goodbyes are bitter, that he’ll never be ready enough to hear them.

That he’ll never be able to accept that you’re gone.

Yet, even as it reaches into his ears, he didn’t expect the weight, the pressure that makes the tiniest semblance of regret swirl in his heart, slowly realized into a wish that he could rewind time to hear Satoru’s voice that teeters upon a breaking sorrow once more. Just one more time.

“We’ll meet again, right?”

Geto Suguru can only laugh, letting amusement enshroud his expression as his neck cranes towards the light in which his one and only Gojo Satoru shrouded. It’s so stupid, so in character for someone like him.

“At least curse me a little at the end.”

This is how he wants to go. There’s nothing else he wants to long for now… Not the Queen of Curses, not the utter desire to destroy non-sorcerers, not the bloodthirsty revenge and grudge he held against the Jujutsu system— He just wants to feel at peace from the hands of his other half.

This is it.

“Take care of her until I get there.” Wherever you both end up, his final message and blessing from just Satoru to just Suguru. A responsibility given to him that Gojo hopes comes true. All because he hopes it’s peaceful where you both were, that it relieves you both of the hope that made you hurt more.

Suguru’s parting smile is bittersweet, a blush upon his face as enchanting purple finally hide away, finally put to rest with the last of his cursed energy dissipating. A ‘goodbye’ is something he’s no good at, a ‘see you later’ far too unfulfilling. He wishes he could find kinder words as he lets his heart speak his truth, breathed out in a whisper so tender.

“Don’t be late again, Satoru.”

previous next

Notes:

Pink carnations: I’ll never forget you.

Osmanthus flowers: True love.

‘Till the stars fall down and empty from the sky, if you’re with me then everything’s alright.’ - Everything’s Alright from To the Moon (nvy’s favourite game)

#dyf au #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk angst #geto angst

203 notes · View notes

dirtybitfic · 4 months

Text

Concert love

Chris and matt sturniolo x y/n fan-fiction

(contains- flirting in front of a whole crowd, concert, drinking, dirty talk, smutt, threesome, slapping, chocking, use of the names- ma, slut,whore,daddy and I think that's it)

y/n pov-

me and my best friend ybf/n decided to get tickets for the lil skies concert a while ago since the tickets were surprisingly cheap and we've both liked his music since we were in high school

me and ybf/n were getting ready playing music through my speaker and talking and laughing.

we both finished doing our makeup

(your look)

(ybf/n look)

damn y/n your makeup looks so good

thanks you too bitch damn

okay lets get dressed and then ill order the uber

We both go to your separate rooms in the apartment to change. Neither of us know what the other one picked for their outfit but I know hers is gonna be so good and im very confident about my choice.

(your outfits but instead 0f heels your wearing orange nike dunks)

(your best friends outfit)

Y/N YOU READY?

YEP IM READY

OKAY ILL CALL THE UBER NOW

OKAY

I walked out of my room guessing she's already in the living room by the way she was yelling

DAMN BITCH YOU LOOK HOT ASF

YOU TOO GOD DAMN IM NO BETTER THAN A MAN

SHUT THE FUCK UP

we both laugh as we sit and wait for our uber to get closer before we make our way to the lobby.

we were both looking through our fyp page as I realized it had been a good minute since we ordered the uber

hey is the uber close

oh shit yeah two minutes away

fuck okay lets head down

we grab our phones and keys and head to the elevator and take it down to the lobby.

we walked out of the door looking for a black Honda

is that it over there I said pointing to a black Honda a little further down the street

uuuh yeah I think so she says starting to walk over to it as I follow behind her

as we approach the driver rolls the window down

hey is this the uber for ybf/n

hey yes hop on in

we get in the back as we start heading to the venue it was about a 15 minute drive we decided to go pretty early so we could be closer to the front

so you girls going to the skies concert tonight

yep were so excited

damn I really wanted to go but by the time me and my friends went to get tickets they were sold out

yeah tickets were cheap so they went pretty fast and the venue is smaller so you know

yeah makes sense . I know this might be weird but can I give you my phone number and maybe you can send me some videos of the concert

oh my god of course id be more than happy to do that

thank you so much he says as he gives me his phone number and I save it for later and send him a quick text so he has it and knows im the girl from the uber for the skies concert

alright well im gonna drop you here have fun tonight guys

thank you so much for driving us and ill make sure to remember to send you videos

thank you bye

bye have a good night I shut the door as we walked to the entrance door

there were only a couple people already here waiting so we stood behind them and waited for about 40 minutes until more people showed up and doors started to open .

we got in around 7:45 and got close as fuck to the front we were a row behind the barricade . The show is supposed to start at 8:30 So we have a while to wait . I decided to go to the bar to grab a drink so ybf/n stayed back to keep our spot.

I got up to the bar and ordered two vodka watermelon red bulls and payed as she handed them to me and I went back to ybf/n. It was hard to get back through the crowd without spilling them but somehow I did.

hey here you go

thanks ill pay you back later

oh no your good my treat I say smiling at her

okay but next ones are on me

works for me

soon the opening dj comes out and starts playing some good as songs

As hot in here was playing me and ybf/n were dancing with each other as the dj started yelling out

HEY GIRL IN BLACK JEANS AND BLACK TOP WITH THE SPARKLES OVER IT YOU GOT AN ADMIRER FROM THE BALCONY

I look up at him making eye contact with a confused smile pointing to me kinda shocked

YES YOU GIRL he says laughing a little I smile and look up at the balcony scanning it for this so called admirer when I meet eyes with a guy.

NOT JUST ANY GUY .... CHRIS MOTHER FUCKING STURNIOLO

OH MY GOD Y/N ... IS THAT.CHRIS

YES BITCH OH MY GOD

he smirks at me and waves

I smile and wave back and hold eye contact as I see him raise something to his mouth and speak into it

I look at him confused for a second before the dj speaks again

HE WANTS TO KNOW YOUR NAME

I look at him smiling then bring out my phone to type it onto snap and blow it up so he could read it

I hold it up smiling as he reads it then brings his phone out to type something

he holds it out for me to read

" such a pretty name for such a pretty girl it reads'

I smile widely at him before typing "thank you" and hold it up for him to read

he reads it smiling the typing something else

" no problem gorgeous " it reads I laugh a little and smile at him as we hold eye contact

he look back to his phone typing something else

" stay after ill tell them I asked you too"

I got nervous but still smiled as we kept eye contact I was trying so hard to not flip my shit at this point .

I give him a thumbs up smiling and he winks at me then looks back at the stage as a new song starts playing

I love this song so I start rapping along as I look back up at him to see him already looking at me as he rapping along to the song to he starts moving his hands and rapping more to the song as we keep eyes contact then stops and points at me so I took it as a sign to rap the next part and I do as he bops his head smiling at me in awe that I know the song by heart .

he types something on his phone

"you like nardo wick"

I shake my head and type out

'LOVE NARDO WICK"

he smiles and types again

" I like you even more now"

I smile and laugh

" im glad' I type and show him

he just smirks at me and god his smirk has me dying he's so beautiful its actually scary to be honest.

we break eye contact as the song ends and the dj announces skies is coming on in a minute.

BITCH ARE YOU KIDDING ME HOW ARE YOU SO CALM RIGHT NOW

BITCH IM NOT IM FUCKING FREAKING OUT IM JUST TRYING NOT TO SHOW IT

I CANT EVEN AND HE ASKED YOU TO STAY AFTER WTF IS THAT ABOUT

I DONT KNOW BUT I GUESS ILL FIND OUT

I look back up at him admiring his perfect side profile as I smile and look back at the stage as rage starts playing.

skies just finished his last song

thank you guys so much for coming I love you all so much and y/n wherever you are cant wait to meet you after the show he waves and runs off the stage

everyone starts leaving but I stay back

ybf/n gave me a hug and told me to update her later

she slaps my ass you got this bitch don't be nervous

I know ill try not to I love you see you at home

love you too she says as she walks away to the door

as the last people are filtering out I decided to look at my phone to try and calm my nerves. And sent all the videos I got to the Uber driver from earlier.

I get taped on the shoulder I jump from the sudden contact and turn around with my hand on my heart

im so sorry I didn't mean to scare you I was just coming to get you Chris sent me matt says

oh no your good just caught me off guard

follow me were gonna chill in the green room for a bit as they take all the stuff down and pack up

alright lead the way I say kinda nervous and I guess he can tell.

hey no need to be nervous were all chill I promise

thank you matt that actually calmed me down a bit

wait you know my name

oh yeah ive seen couple videos of you guys and a shit tone of edits on my fyp

damn well I hope you liked our videos

oh yeah they were great you guys are very funny

thanks he says as he looks down at me with a sweet smile

no problem I say smiling back

alright were just through this door

fuck fuck fuck oh god is all I can think as he opens the door and walks in as I hesitantly follow behind him

HEYYY Y/N HOW ARE YOU Chris yells coming up to hug me

im a bit caught of guard but hug him back as he rocks me side to side a little causing me to laugh

im g-good Chris how are you I say he's squeezing me a bit tight causing my airflow to sputter.

im good! im glad you stayed after gorgeous

m-me too but y-your squeezing the life out of me I say sounding out of breathe and squeaky

oh shit im sorry he says laughing as he lets go

I take a deep much needed breath as I smile up at him

so uhh why'd you ask me to stay back I say nicely but sounding a bit confused

oh well we thought you were really beautiful to be honest and we wanted to get the chance to talk to you maybe even hang out for the night he says with a smile but sounding a bit nervous

oh well id love that

really ?

yeah of course I say smiling giggling a little bit

heyyy Chris matt you guys in the green room? I hear skies say

yep were in here matt answers

he walks in smiling at matt dapping him up

then walking over to Chris beside me dapping him up then looking at me smiling

you must be y/n its so nice to meet you he says bringing me in for a nice warm hug

its so nice to meet you too ! I loved your show you have great stage presence

thank you I appreciate it ! he says letting go and smiling at me.

I can see why Chris noticed you in the crowd you are beautiful

aww thank you so much I say as my face heats up from the compliment

alright guys I think were gonna hit the road we got another show to get too tomorrow but thank you for coming and supporting me and hit me up later chris

yeah of course man the show was great ill text you later this week when we get back to la Chris says dapping skies up one last time before he says bye to matt.

alright well we should call an uber and head out of here matt says

hey y/n know any fun places we could go to Chris says looking down at me

well I mean it is like 12am so most of the only fun places to go that are open are clubs but I know y'all don't drink right

nope we don't

well we could always go back to my apartment and grab my car and get some food and then go back to my place and watch a movie unless y'all aren't comfortable with that I completely understand

no y/n we trust you you ive got nothing but good vibes from you also what's your address for the uber

oh thank you that’s really sweet I say as I give him my address

of course also the uber is a couple minute away so we should probably head out

alright lets go Chris says as he wraps an arm around my shoulder guiding me to walk with him I smile up at him and he looks at me giving me a warm smile.

we walk out the back door and see what im guessing is an uber black parked at the back .

hey are you lane

yep über for matt?

yep that's me matt says as he opens the door to the back and hops

Chris guides me to the door Do you mind being in the middle your the smallest

I laugh no not at all

okay then lady first he says gesturing his hand for me to hop in and I do as I scoot to the middle and he hops in behind me shutting the door.

so y/n have you lived here you whole life

oh yeah pretty much I mean I moved here from Chicago when I was 4 but I don't really remember life back in there so ive only really ever known life as growing up here

oh nice its a great city I like it here

yeah its pretty cool here

oh yeah I mean its okay ive lived here all my life so it tends to get boring you know what I mean

yeah I get that that's one reason we love living in la now gives us a new place to grow in but don't get me wrong I love Boston with my whole heart and going back to visit our family is great but its nice to be somewhere new for a change

I completely get that . My parents actually moved to San Francisco a couple years after I moved out they love it there and I love getting to visit them its one of my favorite cities

oh yeah I love san Francisco its a beautiful city

right I love it there im just sad I don't get to go visit my parents often

oh why don't you visit them much

well for one my job is very busy and air fair is not cheap so sadly I have to save up for each trip months in advance

oh yeah real airfare is so expensive its kinda crazy

yeah well your lucky with the job you guys have

yeah we are pretty blessed to have a good income coming in but we still like to be wise with our spending

that's good though most people our age would be buying whatever they wanted if they had you guys income

very true but our parents taught us how to spend our money wisely from a young age so thank god for them or wed be half way broke by now

yeah I relate to that my dad was always very good with money growing up even though we have a lot of money he only spends it on things that are worth it instead of waisting money on random shit that well Never use

he sounds like a smart man

yeah he's great I love my dad ive always been a daddy girl

Chris’s eyes slightly darken and he shifts around after hearing me say daddy I didn’t know why but I just looked down at his big hands that were resting on his lap god what I wouldn’t do to have those wrapped around my-

My thought is cut off by the Uber driver announcing we are at our destination

We get out and thank her then head to my car .

Chris gets into the front as Matt gets into the back and I start up my car.

Okay so the only things open right now are like fast food and this one pizza place so what sounds good to you guys.

Honestly I could fuck with pizza rn

Same pizza sounds good as fuck

I completely agree i start backing out and head to the pizza place .

Here’s my phone you guys can queue up whatever you want

They queued up a couple good songs that I knew as we sat in silence giving out to the music until we got to the pizza place.

I parked and turned off the car as we all got out and headed into the place.

Wow it’s really cool in here

I know right this is my favorite place to go after a night out

I can see why it’s so dark but cool with all the colored lights they have

Yeah they turn on their led bulbs when it gets dark it’s such a vibe

Hey how are you guys is it just the three of you the hostes says

Yep just the three of us

Cool follow me she says as she grabs the menus and leads us to a booth

Matt and Chris sit opposite of me as we start looking at the menus

Hey I’m Jake I’ll be your server today what can I get you guys to drink

Um I’ll get a Pepsi please

Cool and for you

Can I get a root beer

Yep sure thing and for you y/n

I’ll get a dr.pepper thanks Jake

Of course I’ll be right back with those

Thank you I say as he walks away

You know him Chris asks

Oh yeah he’s one of my best friend boyfriends

Oh cool

Yeah I say smiling at him

So uhh I gotta warn you their pizzas are big so we could probably all just share a large if that sounds good with you guys

Yeah that’s fine do you like pepperoni

Yeah love it

Cool you good with that Chris

Yeah sounds good to me

Here you guys go Jake says as he sets each of our drinks down then takes our order

As we were talking about random shit I got a phone call

I looked to see it was ybf/n

Hey guys sorry do you mind if I answer this it’s my roommate the one who was with me at the concert

No not at all go ahead

I answer the call

Hey what’s up

Hey I’m just letting you know I’m staying the night at Blake’s house so I won’t be home tonight

Oh alright we’ll I guess see you sometime tomorrow then

Yeah also I can’t wait to hear all the juicy details about you hanging out with your celeb cruuuuwh

Okayyyyy shut the fuck uuuuup I can’t feel my face getting hot from the blush creeping onto then

Okay bye I love you

Love you to and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

Cool so that means I can do whatever cause your a slut

I am not a slut shut up good fucking night

Good niiiight

I hung up as I looked up at Matt and Chris just looking at me I got nervous

W-what I say laughing awkwardly

Nothing you guys seem really close

Oh yeah no we are! been best friends since 2nd grade that’s just how we talk to each other

Oh no we get but uhhh why did she call you a slut

Oh uh haha well I said don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and she said so that means I can do whatever cause your a slut

Oh damn what a sweet thing for her to say

I know right she’s so nice to me I say jokingly

So I’m guessing she not at home

Nope she’s spending the night at a guys house I also fucking despise the guy but you know that’s just me

Why do you not like him

He’s a dick and he treats girls like shit he also tried to roofie me at the club once but I didn’t tell her so she doesn’t know that but . I get cut off by Chris

But nothing y/n that’s not okay she shouldn’t be with a guy who did that to her best-friend

I- yeah I know I just don’t like conflict I didn’t wanna make it a big deal I say feeling like a kid being scolded by her dad

I’m sorry for raising my voice but that just makes me angry

I’m sorry I shouldn’t have brought it up I say feeling anxious now by the way him and Matt are looking at me

No it’s okay we get it it’s just you know something you might think about telling her you know if he’s ever around you again what else would he try you know what I’m saying

Y-yeah your right I’ll tell her tomorrow

Good girl Chris says making my face turn red as fuck and I look down trying to hide it but he notices

Here’s you guys pizza hope you enjoy

Thank you Jake

No problem

We each grab a couple slices and eat in silence I can feel slight tension in the air but I try to ignore it and just eat my pizza.

Do you guys like horror, movies?

Uhm not my favorite but I guess they’re okay

Yeah I mean they aren’t my first pick but I’ll watch em

Okay cool I’m kinda of in a horror movie mood tonight

Sounds good to me

Yeah me too

Hey you guys ready for the check

Yeah I think so

Okay cool together or separate

Separ-

Together . I got cut off by Matt

Okay cool I’ll be back in a second with that

What- Matt you guy don’t have to pay for me

No no it’s our treat

I mean you are driving us around and letting us come back to your apartment so it’s the least we could do

Well thank you really that’s very nice of you guys

No problem

I smile at both of them as Jake comes back with the check and Chris pays then we head back out to the car.

Do you guys mind if I play some softer music on the way home I have astigmatism so driving at night with loud music makes me really anxious

No absolutely we don’t mind at all I completely understand that. I get driving anxiety too so I get the struggle

I smile at him as we get into the car and I queue up some songs before we pull out and head to my apartment.

You have really good music taste y/n

Thank you I’m a big music lover so my music range is weird as Fuck

What do you mean

If I put my liked playlist of shuffle I can go from rap to classical to edm then to rock all in the span of 10 minutes

Ah so you listen to a lot of genera’s

Yeah I say smiling at Chris

So what’s your favorite genera as of right now

Honestly I think alternative rock

Oh cool we don’t listen to rock much but it’s cool

Yeah deaftones is my favorite band as of right now I would play a song from them but you know

To loud

Yep

Okay one for us when we get back to your place

Okay I will

After about 5 more minutes we parked outside of my building and i but in my favorite deaftones song for them

Oh wow this is actually pretty good

Yeah so far I like it

We sit as they keep listening I watch for their honest reactions seeing if they are just being nice

I can tell Matt likes it for sure but Chris not as much

Damn the lyrics are kinda

dirty yeah

Yeah but I like it

Well I’m glad

Yeah no this shit is good I need to start listening to them

I’ll share my playlist of my favorite songs from them to you

Cool that would be great thank you

Yeah no problem

The song ends and we get out of the car and head into the building and take the elevator up to my floor

I open the door of my apartment for them and let them go in and I shut and lock the door

Woah your apartment is so cool

Oh thank you

Did you set it all up

Yeah I designed all of it but my roommates room

That’s so cool your good at designing

Oh thank you I took some classes in high-school for it so that helped me out a bit

Oh that’s so cool

Yeah it was pretty fun

I love the art wall

Oh thanks yeah that’s one of my favorite parts

It adds a very homey vibe

That’s exactly what I was going for

Well you nailed it

Thanks I said smiling up at him

Okay I’m gonna pop some popcorn but do you guys wanna watch the movie in here or my room it’s up to you

Honestly room sounds more cozy

Yeah I agree

Okay well if you wanna head to my room it’s the second door on the right

Cool they both say as they head to my room

I finished popping the popcorn and putting it in the bowl then grabbed three cherry Pepsis from the fridge and made my way to my room

Your bedroom is so cozy Chris says as I enter with the drinks and snacks

Oh yeah I love it in here

I like how dark it is

Me too I was kinda shocked how big it was when we moved in though

Yeah for an apartment this is huge

Yeah but I’m not complaining

I handed them their drinks and the popcorn and I set my drink on the bedside table

I’m gonna change into something more comfy real quick then we can pic a movie

Sounds good

I went to my closet and picked out one of my least revealing pj sets and changed then went to the bathroom to take my makeup off

Then went back in and shimmied my way in between the two since they were taking up each side of the bed

Wow you look gorgeous without makeup

Yeah you have really cute freckles

O-oh thank you guys I say feeling a little flustered from their compliments

As I scrolled through for a while we settled on watching insidious since I said it was one of the least scary movies I’ve watched

As we were watching a jump scare popped up and Matt jumps launching popcorn all over the bed making me burst out laughing and Chris joined me

Shit sorry that got me good

You don’t say I say as I pull popcorn out of my hair

I started to get a little cold so I got under the covers .

Chris joined me as our legs slightly touched making my breathe hitch

We continued watching as I felt a hand on my thigh and I felt another come behind my head

Chris’s was on my thigh and Matt’s was the one behind my head

I got a little nervous but tried my best not to show it. Chris started to rub small circles with his thumb making me sigh out in both calmness but also a little bit of horny mixed in.

Matt’s hand started slowly caressing my head and playing with my hair.

I started to become relaxed since playing with my hair always sends me to sleep .

My head starts to fall back into Matt’s hand as he rubs my head i let out a soft moan on accident .

Sorry that just feels so good I say looking over at Matt with hooded eyes who’s still rubbing my head softly

Oh I can stop if it’s making you tired

No no please keep going please

Alright he keeps playing with my hair

Chris hand starts to squeeze my inner thigh causing a pool of wetness to form in between my legs

Mmm I softly moan both of them being so sweet making me feel calm yet so fucking horny . Having both of their hands on me is sending me into such dirty thoughts

Making you feel good huh Chris says softly

Mhm feels so calming

Feeling anything else other than calm

W-what do you mean

Is calm all your feeling right now or is their another feeling creeping in

N-no just calm

You sure about that cause … he moves his hand closer to my pussy . I’m pretty sure I can feel a little heartbeat down here

Mmm I moan as he grazes his hand over my clothed pussy

Aww are we making you horny princess

Matt whispers in my ear before tugging a little on my hair angling my head so I look him in the eyes

N-no I… he yanks harder on my hair

We don’t like liars y/n

Chris’s fingers slide under my shorts now rubbing slow circles on my clit through my underwear

Mmm fuck

You wanna try and answer that again . This time truthfully

O-okay yes your m-making me horny okay

Good girl see that wasn’t so hard to admit was it

N-no

God your so wet already

Mmm I moan out as I his fingers now move under my underwear to rub my bare pussy

He starts rubbing my clit eliciting moans to slip past my lips

Matt’s other hand moves under my top to grope my bare tits

O-oh f-Fuck

Yeah you like having both of us touching you

Y-yes

Such a little slut for us aren’t you

Chris slides two fingers into me

Mmm Fuck c-Chris

Answer my question he says deeply causing me to look at him as my brows furrow In pleasure

Fuck y-yes I’m a slut for you

Atta girl he says before pulling my top up and sucking on my nipple

Fuck oh god I moan out as he sucks hickeys all over my tits and Chris fingers speed up .

Can I take these off ma he asked pulling on my shorts and underwear

Mhm I moan shaking my head yes at him

He yanks them off causing me to gasp

As he gets them all the way off he starts kissing up my thigh as Matt moves to start sucking all over my neck .

Chris starts biting and sucking hickeys on my inner thighs as his fingers keep a steady pace pumping into my pussy .

F-Fuck oh my-god

Are we making you feel good

Yes Fuck yes I moan out

All the sudden Chris’s mouth contexts to my clit sucking and licking .

OH MY GOD CHRIS

Matt’s hand comes around my neck slightly choking me as he comes down to connect our lips

It’s a hungry wet kiss that makes me even wetter .

God I’ve always dreamed of a threesome but this is better than I could have ever imagined

I start feeling my orgasm building . I moan and whimper into the kiss .

I pull away from the kiss and I’m panting and pulling at Chris hair as he sucks harder on my clit and his fingers move even faster as he feels me clench around them.

HO-HOLY FUCK IM GONNA C-CUM

he detached his mouth from my clit

Beg for it tell daddy how much you want it

Pl-PLEASE DADDY please CAN I COME I WANT IT SO BAD PLEASE PLEASE

Yeah you can come be a good girl and cum all over my face and fingers

Matt grips my throat as he makes me look at him

Look at me when you cum I wanna watch you fall apart in our hands

OH MY F-Fuck I’m c-cumming

That’s a good girl cumming for daddy

Jesus CHRIST I moan out as I slowly come down from my high

Did so good for us ma

Chris pulls out his fingers and puts them In his mouth sucking my juices off I watch in aww .

On all 4s now he says deeply. I do as I’m told once I’m in the position Matt pulls my top off so now I’m fully naked .

They both take of their shirts and throw them somewhere in the room .

I hear Chris take of his belt and drop his pants and boxers as he lines his dick to my entrance .

I whine wanting to feel him already.

I’m not giving it to you until you wrap that pretty little mouth around matt

I move as fast as possible unbuckling Matt’s belt and taking his jeans and boxers down so his dick pops out .

So eager aren’t you

Mhm I say looking up at matt smiling then looking down at his dick and JESUS CHRIST HES HUGE.

I take him in my hand he’s so thick my hand won’t even wrap around it fully .

I pump a couple times before taking his tip into my mouth . I start sucking as my hand moves around what isn’t in my mouth.

Chris slams into me causing me to scream around Matt . CHRIS IS HUGE TOO.

I can feel him stretching me out so much as he slams into me .

matt garbs a fist full of my hair and start thrusting onto my mouth .

fuck such a good girl taking us so well

I cant help but moan around him and pulse on Chris from his praise

I start gagging from how deep he is in my throat as spit drips down my chin onto the bed below

fuck your so fucking wet

I moan around matt and he thrusts harder into my throat definitely bruising it but I don't care I feel so good right now.

chris is hitting my gspot repeatedly causing me to shake and scream around matts dick .

fuck keep fucking gagging and struggling

I feel tears start to stream down my face from the pleasure

I start to feel my orgasm building as I moan around matt as he abuses my throat.

you gonna cum on my dick like a good little slut

I shake my ahead yes the best I can

matt pulls my head to look up at him as he abuses my throat harder causing me to cry harder

such a mess for us aren't you ? such a good little whore

my brows furrow as my orgasm rolls through me as I shake around Chris as I cum.

fuckkk so good cumming for me

he fucks me through my orgasm and keeps pounding into me as I come down from my high as my legs start shaking .

he pushes on my back making me arch further giving him a new angle that sends me into oblivion.

I scream around matt and he fucks my throat roughly

I start to feel pressure build in my stomach again making my legs shake and more tears to fall down my face .

all the sudden it snaps and I scream around matt as I feel my thighs get soaked.

god so fucking hot squirting all over me like the slut you are

fuck ive never squirted so much in my life .

he continues fucking into me harshly becoming more sloppy

fuck im gonna cum and your gonna fucking swallow all of it

I hate swallowing it tastes like shit and the texture makes me wanna throw up.

he thrusts a couple times before filling my mouth with his cum.

he pulls out them puts a hand over my mouth

swallow it slut

I shake my head no

he slaps me hard across the face causing me to swallow from the impact .

should have just listened instead of acting like a brat

I whined feeling my face sting

Chris pushes my back down further so im fully arching for him and hold my head up by my hair as matt wraps his hand around my throat.

mmm fuck YOUR SO DEEP

Yeah fuck im gonna cum you gonna let me fill you up

y-yes fuck please cum in me

such a good little cum slut he says before cumming deep inside me

mmm fuck I moan as I look up at matt as he smirks down at me .

Chris pulls out as I flop to down onto my stomach as my legs continue to shake.

oh we aren't done with you yet . flip over on your back for me matt says as he and Chris switch spots .

I watch as matt settles in-between my thighs and lines his tip to my entrance

spread your legs wider for me ma

I do as he says giving him more access as he starts sliding into me slowly.

I whine from how much more he's stretching me out he's even thicker than Chris and the fact my pussy is already sore and sensitive from Chris pounding me isn't helping the pain at all

oh my fuck your so big

yeah you feel how deep I am he says placing his hand on my lower stomach and pressing to feel himself inside me

mmhm fuck I moan out as he starts thrusting into me slow but rough

my head falls back as pleasure start to build inside me

I look up at Chris who's smirking down at me

god you make the prettiest faces

mmm fuck faster matt i moan out as I look back into Chris’s eyes

I didn't hear a please

p-please go faster please I sound so pathetic begging but I don't care

god you sound so pretty when you beg he says before pounding into me

OH MY G-GOD I scream as he is hitting my g spot at the perfect angle

I look up at Chris as he taps his tip on my lips

open

I do as im told and he slides into my mouth before holding my jaw with both hands and starts face fucking me .

the angle my head is hanging off the bed making it easy for him to slide into my throat causing me to gag around his as tears fall from my eyes.

sound so pretty gagging around my dick he says before he slides one hand down to my nipples pinching and pulling at them causing me to moan around him over and over.

he starts thrusting harder abusing my throat as he slaps my tit making me moan loudly around him.

he gets deeper in my throat causing me to gag and cough around him as spit drip out of the sides of my mouth onto my face and the rest of his dick that isn't in my mouth.

keep struggling slut you look so hot when you squirm

I moan around him as I start to feel pressure building in my stomach again

I grab onto matts back as i scratch deeply into it causing him to groan

fuckkk keep doing that I love that shit he says as he fucks into me harder causing me to scream and gag around Chris .

the tension snaps as I squirt all over him and the sheets

fuck your so fucking hot squirting all over me

he continues fucking into me causing me to squirm the overstimulation beginning to be too much .

I claw his back more harshly causing him to groan

god damn fells so fucking good when you claw my back like the little slut you are

im beginning to sob around Chris . im so overstimulated I can barely take it.

I remove my hand from matts back as I try and push on Chriss thighs so he would pull out so I could voice that im overstimulated

he slaps my tit hard as he pushes even deeper into my throat .

nah fucking take it like a good girl

he growls at me as I smack his thigh as my I continue crying .

I cant take it anymore its too much .

I move my hands to matts sides trying to push him out of me . he grabs my arms harshly slamming them down on the bed on each side of my head holding me down.

what's the matter slut? you overstimulated huh? he says in a tone that makes me want to slap him across the face .

I shake my head yes and try to cry out a mhm as Chris still abuses my throat .

well that's to fucking bad . I don't care how much you cum and squirm against me . you aren't done until I fill you up .

I scream around Chris as I feel myself squirt all over matt again causing my hips to lift up off the bed and my legs to shake even more and my thighs tighten around his torso .

he holds onto my hips as he continues pounding into me . now that my hands are free again I move them to his shoulders again trying to push him off of me . I literally can not take it anymore.

Chris pulls out of my mouth im confused as to why until he comes back over me with his belt .

w-what are you doing with that I moan out as matt still pounds deep into me.

since you want to act like a brat and try and push us away . he says as he grabs my arms harshly as he holds them to my chest and slides the belt under my back and secure my arms tightly to my chest.

now you cant use your arms at all

I groan in annoyance as I try and get my arms out but its no use.

fuck you I spit out at him

he slaps me across the face

I cry out from the sting

acting like a bratty bitch isn't gonna get you anywhere he says dominantly at me before grabbing me by the throat roughly.

now open that bratty mouth for me

I groan and shake my head no

n-no I c-cant its to much I cant take it anymore please

matt slaps my thigh so hard I scream

OW WHAT TH-THE FUCK

open your fucking mouth or I swear to god

I open my mouth as I roll my eyes

Chris slaps my face again

roll your fucking eyes at me again and you'll regret it

o-okay okay im s-sorry I sob out as I feel the pressure building in my stomach again causing me to moan as Chris slides back down my throat.

I scream around Chris as my orgasm rips through me ad I buck up into matt

fuck such a good girl cumming again for me god your squeezing me so tight

I sob around Chris feeling like I could pass out from how hard I just came

god so fucking tight and wet around me matt grabs my shaking legs hoisting them onto his shoulders getting an even deeper angle.

this causes me to scream around Chris again and again causing him to moan .

fuck im gonna cum . and your gonna be a good girl and swallow all of it

he thrusts a couple more time before his cum is down my throat and I swallow around him causing him to groan

fuuuck such-a good girl he groans then pulls out of my mouth . I cough as I try to catch my breathe.

O-OH MY GOD F-FUCK I C-CANT T-

I get cut off by matt slapping my across the face

your gonna fucking take it

mmmm fuck FUCK YOU I scream out as

he slaps me harder then grips my throat roughly

act like a brat you'll be treated as one

mmm fuck its to much I cant

i.thrust.dont.thrust.fucking.thrust.care

mmmm I cry and shake under him as I try and wiggle out of his grip

mm mm where you going he says as he grips my throat and thigh tightly causing me to gasp for air through his tight grip

I feel pressure building quickly in my stomach . before I can even speak im cumming again all over him as my eye roll back and I lift off the bed as my hands fist as I shake uncontrollably under him.

aww look at you cumming again such a little whore

FUCKING HELL I-I CANT TAKE IT PLEASE

Oh sweetheart im not even close to finishing he says smirking sadistically down at me

mmmmm I growl in pain and pleasure

he brings both hands to my legs pushing them down to my chest as he thrusts even deeper in me.

JESUS C-CHRIST YOUR TO DEEP FUCK PLEASE I C-CANT chris kneels down so his mouth is right at my ear

matt is groaning as he feels my pussy pulse around him

don't act like you're not loving every minute of this . you love being our little slut he whispers husky in my ear causing me to shudder

you love the way we use you like our own personal fuck doll dont you

I whine unable to get words out as matt is pounding into me so hard I feel him in my stomach

I asked you a fucking question y/n now answer it

Y-YES I LOVE IT DADDY

that's what I thought he says as he kisses my neck causing me to moan even louder from all the pleasure im feeling .

I feel pressure building in my stomach yet again.

F-FUCK MATT IM GONNA CUM AGAIN OH MY GOD

you think you deserve it

Y-YES PLEASE FUCK I C-CANT HOLD IT

beg for it then tell daddy how much you want it

F-FUCK I WANT IT SO BAD DADDY PLEASE CAN I CUM, PLEASE I PROMISE TO BE A GOOD GIRL PLEASE CAN I CUM

yes you can cum . give it to me cover my cock

as soon as he gives me permission I squirt all over him so hard I stop breathing for a second.

JESUS CHRIST I scream as I finally start breathing again

Such a good girl your doing so good for me

Matt starts to slow his pace and he drops my legs pushes them out and apart.

Do you have any toys ma

Y-yes but why

Cause I wanna use one on you that’s why

O-okay I just don’t know if I can handle that right n-now

We know you can ma you wanna be good for us don’t you

Y-yes

Then where are they

In my b-bedside table drawer

Chris stands up now in his boxer as he goes into my bedside table grabbing my wand and handing it to Matt

If we let your arms free do you think you can be good or are you gonna push me away again

I -I’ll be good I promise

Okay but if you act up again we will put the belt back on

O okay I promise I’m won’t mmm Fuck I won’t act up again I moan out as Matt is thrusting into me at a sickly sweet slow pace

Chris just smiled down at me as he strokes my check with his hand then undoes the belt

I groan as I stretch my arms out since they are slightly numb from the position they were stuck in for so long.

Matt turns on the vibrator as Chris walks over and sits by my side as Matt hands it him

He starts thrusting into me harder causing my legs to shake harder .Chris puts the vibrator right on my clit causing me to scream out

JESUS CHRIST OH MY GOD

Yeah that feel good ma

Y-YES OH MY GOD DADDY FEELS SO GOOD

You think you can handle it if I turn it up

N-NO

I think you can ma he says turning it up

OH-OH MY GOD FUCK IM GONNA CUM PLEASE CAN I CUM

Yeah cum for us ma be a good girl

OH GOD MMMM I moan as I jerk around under Matt whose still pounding into me and Chris keeps the vibrator on my clit sending my body into overdrive as I cum all over Matt’s dick.

As I come down I start crying the vibrations are becoming to much to fast my hand flys down to grip Chris’s wrist to pull the vibrator off

He slaps me

Mmm mm you promised to be a good girl and keep your hands to yourself

Y-yes I’m sorry I’m sorry

Keep being a good girl for us your doing so good ma

Mmmm Fuck c-can you just turn it d-down a little please please

He turns it down one setting giving me a little time to breathe and calm down

C-can I at-least touch you

Yes ma you can touch us

I move one hand onto Matt’s chest running my hands down it scratching marks down it as my other hand locks in Chris hair not too tight but enough to make him groan

Fu-Fuck feels so good

Yeah are we making you feel good ma

S-so good so fucking good

Such a good girl being so good for us

Fuck Chris turn it back up I wanna feel her clenching around me again

W-WAIT PLEASE N..

I get cut off by the vibrator going to max volume causing my breathe to hitch and my entire body to shake .

OH MY GOD I C-CANT PLEASE I …

Give me one more I’m getting close I promise ma

Mmmm Fuck okay okay

Chris starts sucking on my neck creating more hickeys in spots that didn’t have them from earlier

I pull on his hair tighter as he comes up and places his lips on mine bringing me into a messy hot make out

I moan into his mouth as I feel my hopefully final orgasm moving in slowly .

As I feel my breathing pick up I pull away and keep eyes contact as I whine and whimper as he watches me struggle with a smirk on his face

God you look so beautiful all fucked out and whiny

F-Fuck I’m so close oh my god

Go on give us one more ma I know you can do it

I close my eyes but they shoot open when Chris hand come around my throat .

Look at me while you cum . I wanna watch you fall apart

Mmmm Fuck I’m gonna cum oh my god I say as I maintain eye contact as my brows furrow and I bite my lip harshly trying so hard not to Throw my head back and close my eyes.

Come on cum around my cock give it to me slut

As soon as the words leave Matt’s mouth I cum all over him causing his to groan and his hips to sputter.

Chris watches my face contort and I moan as I start to come down from my high.

Matt thrusts as deep as he can as he fills me up with his cum .

Holy fuck he groan out as he fills me and fucks it into me .

Jesus Christ Chris turn it off please please I beg as I stare into his eyes with the most desperate look on my face as tears roll down my face.

He turns it of as he places small sweet kisses on my neck .

Your such a good girl you did so good . I’m so proud of you

I smile at him as I try to regulate my breathing.

Matt pulls out of me causing me to hiss.

My pussy is so sore and my legs are shaking non stop .

Matt flops down next to me trying to catch his breathe.

Chris lays down with his head resting on my stomach .

I play with his hair as Matt places a kiss on my cheek.

That was… fucking amazing

Yeah y/n your pussy is the best I’ve felt in my entire life

I’ve never cum so much in my life and might I just say y’all are huge like HUGE

They both chuckle as they both sit up .

I’m gonna go start a shower so we can all wash up .

Okay I say softly smiling at him

Come here Chris says standing up holding out his hand .

I take it as he pulls me to my feet . My legs immediately give out on me as I fall back but he catches me .

Okay Bambi come here he says hoisting me up holding under my thighs

I laugh at his joke put smack him lightly on the arm .

Don’t call me that and just so you know this is yours and his fault just remember that

Oh trust me I’ll remember this forever

Oh shut up

You wanna drop the attitude or keep it and have to crawl to the bathroom

I bring one hand to my mouth acting like I’m locking it and throwing away the key

He just smiles at me before walking us both to the bathroom

As we enter Matt is turned back facing us as he feels the water temperature making sure it’s hot enough.

I gasp as I look at his back.

W-what what’s wrong

N-nothing just your back I’m sorry I didn’t realize I was scratching that deep

No don’t apologize I loved every second of if

Okay whatever you say

Come on pretty girl let’s get into the shower Matt says walking over as Chris sets me down and Matt carries me into the shower as Chris steps out of his boxers following .

Matt hisses a bit as the water hits his back

See I told you they were deep

No I’m fine it just stings a bit

Mhmmmm

Chris holds me from behind at he pumps some shampoo in his hands and begins washing my hair causing me to sigh at how good it feels to have some one wash it for me .

Matt spins me into the water so I can rinse it out then spins me back so Chris can put the conditioner in as Matt lathers my body in body wash .

It’s feels nice to be pampered like this after what you guys just did to me

Oh yeah has no one ever taken care of you like this after

Nope usually then fuck me they cum then leave

Wtf typa Assholes have you been meeting around here

Ones who never heard from me again tbh y’all are the first people I’ve had sex with in a couple years

Wait really why

Well for one I got tired of feeling used and also tired of guys using me for their pleasure and me never getting anything out of it . All the guys I’ve met only care about them finishing but never me . I spent a lot of night alone crying feeling like shit about myself for even fucking with them at all

Im sorry y/n they were Assholes they didn’t deserve you at all he says pulling me into a hug

I smile into his chest

Thank you guys really I’ve never felt so taken care of by 1 guy let alone two

Of course we wouldn’t treat you any other way

I’m gonna be honest I did not think this is how it would go my first time meeting you guys

How did you think it would go

Well I thought I would possibly see you guys at the concert maybe see you walk by ask for a picture and that would be it

I mean understandable but come on your so beautiful we couldn’t have been able to resist you either way

I laugh a little bit as Matt turns me to rinse my body and the conditioner out of my hair.

I’m very glad you guys decided to come back here with me not just because you know you just fucked the shit out of me but because I like being around you guys your so… genuine and sweet to me

They both smiled at me

Of course gorgeous we like being around you too

I smile back as they wash them selves off making me laugh a little .

What’s so funny

Oh nothing your just gonna smell like a girl and that makes me laugh

Oh whatever it beats smelling sweaty and gross

Very true

Chris turns off the water as we all step out to dry off . My legs are still shaky and sore but I can slightly walk normal minus the fuck ass limp I got .

They both laugh at me as I walk to my closet

Stop laughing at me you assholes

Sorry your limp is just so bad

Yeah well I can thank the both of you for that

Oh yeah your very welcome

I flick them both of as I grab just a new pair of underwear and slip them on then limp back to get into bed.

They both lay in their boxers .

It’s kinda hot it the room givin we’re all snuggled up under the covers of my king size bed .

Hey can one of you get up and turn the fan on and shut the lights off I say as I yawn

Mhm I’ll do it Chris says making his way to the switches turning the lights off and turning the fan on .

Matt pulls me into him as he nuzzled his head into the crook of my neck .

What time is it he asks in deep sleepy voice

Uh I don’t know Chris what time is it

Umm 4:30

WHAT

Jesus y/n you almost bursted my ear drum Matt says smacking me in the side lightly

Sorryyyy but 4:30 that’s means y’all fucked me for like 4 hours

Uhh yeah seems that way

Jesus y’all got some stamina

Mm meh I guess so

You guess bitch I’ve never had sex for longer than 30 minutes

Well I guess today was your lucky day

Yeah I’d say . No wonder I’m so fucking sore I just got railed for 4 hours

They both chuckle as we all lay dozing off and before I know it we all pass tf out until 5 pm the next day when I hear my bedroom door burst open.

Y/N I GOTTA TELL YOU WTF HE TRIED TO …

I stare at her half asleep as the two boys on either side of me wake up looking at me then her

Well I um … sorry we’ll talk later she says with a smirk slowly walking out

Oh god that’s so embarrassing

What’s embarrassing

She just walked in on me pretty much naked in bed with two guys

Oh that’s not embarrassing

Yeah I guess not since it’s you guys

What’s that mean

Oh nothing I’m still tired can we go back to sleep

Yeah same let’s go back to sleep

Don’t gotta tell me twice

we all fall back asleep

THE END 💋

#Spotify #smut #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #fanfiction #bd/sm daddy

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cooketimm · 7 months

Text

Hardboiled #10-25 (1990-98) cover artwork by Bruce Timm

Interview from Cool Stuff Magazine #1 (1995):

Gary Lovisi: Much of your work is characterized by raw, intense energy and action, or beautiful women in stylish, dangerous settings. Some is obviously influenced by the pulps.

Bruce Timm: I’m big pulp fan, have been since the early 70s, when I started reading Doc Savage and Avenger reprints. I can’t really say how they’ve influenced my artwork much, except when doing pulp-homage stuff like the Bob Price books. But I do sometimes wish I was born decades earlier so I could have worked for some of the old pulps, which was why it was so much fun doing the Price stuff, and the «mock 50s» paperback covers for your Gryphon Books.

The hero pulps — Doc Savage, The Spider, The Shadow, etc — did have a big impact on my approach to the Batman cartoons. It’s something I tried to inject into the show from early on, the atmosphere, danger and illicit excitement, and especially that Norvell Page-type feeling of impending doom — the «doomed city» mood. It’s also why I set the sense in a timeless, 40s-styled world of big cars, padded shoulders, gangsters, shadowy streets, etc. I only wish we’d gone farther with it.

For instance, my original version of Batman himself was actually close to the Shadow: rarely seen close-up, speaking in short, clipped phrases, more mysterious, literally. I wanted to play him cold and remote, almost unhuman. But the network and our various story editors would have none of that! «We need to humanize him», «He needs to have a sense of humor», «We need to more about Bruce Wayne, the person», etc! Whereas I could care less about Bruce Wayne! He’s much more fascinating if you don’t know what he’s thinking, or what drives him.

A few «Shadowy» touches did survive. Batman is rarely seen be the public, almost never on TV. Even when dealing with the police, he’s usually off in shadows conferring with Commissioner Gordon only. And when he’s in the Batcave, he’s almost always in costume. My way of saying he’s Batman, not the other guy, not Bruce Wayne. Like Lamon Cranston, his true, «legal» identity is a facade.

I’ d love to do straight-ahead pulp hero adaptation someday. Doc or The Shadow or The Spider, either in comics or animation, without the senseless updating and over-explaining «character development» like in the Alec Baldwin-Shadow-fiasco-film.

Gary Lovisi: Your stunning covers for my Hardboiled mag are very popular with everyone who sees them. What are your feelings on hardboiled crime-related art?

Bruce Timm: It’s hard, actually, to define «crime-fiction» art. There’s pulp crime-fiction art, and digest crime-fiction art, both of which cross over with paperback crime-fiction art. Basically, I’m a fan of good illustration. Period. Regardless of subject matter. Composition, emotionally intensity, color and lighting effects are what I look for. And pretty girls, of course!

My favorite pulp crime artist is H. J. Ward, hands down. Gorgeous gals in twisty curvy poses, painted in luscious, creamy, wet-on-wet oil technique. My favorite paperback artists include Robert McGinnis, Robert Maguire, and Mitchell Hooks, the usual suspects.

My approach to the Hardboiled covers is different from my earlier «homage» work. When the covers were black and white, I used to experiment with different b&w textures, coquille board, zip-a-tone, xeroxed newsprint, whatever worked. Now that I’m doing them in color, I’m trying to make them as exciting and eye-catching as possible, with loud color, sexy gals, exaggerated action, and simple, graphic, almost cartoony styling.

#bruce timm #pulp #cover #cover art #interview

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hellishjoel · 8 months

Text

burning desire

10.3k // pairing:dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

summary: An argument with your mother before family dinner leaves Joel worried about you. He sneaks you away to grab a drink and talk about what’s on your mind.

warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, dbf/neighbor!joel, soft-hot-protective!joel, rocky mother-daughter relationship (this one ain't for the weak - mommy issues galore) & discussions of verbal fighting, slight clues of abandonment issues, smut, swearing, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel in his 40s), pet names, praise!kink activated, unprotected p in v (yes finally, the edging is over), mentions of birth control, slight cockwarming if you squint, slight degradation kink

A/N: I crave three things after writing this chapter: Joel, Joel Miller, Joel fucking Miller. Also, I’m almost done with The Last of Us Part 1 :(( sad that it’s ending, but it’s been so much fun to play! Enjoy this chapter <3

Your parents make good on their invitation and ask Joel over for dinner. A steak dinner, to be exact. Paired with wine, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a pie your parents picked up from the local bakery in town.

You sort of hope Joel pulls out his long list of excuses to evade any awkwardness.

Sorry, can’t tonight. I’m finishin’ up somethin’ for work. Can’t wait another day.

Or,

Hey, maybe another night. Not feelin’ too hot.

When in reality, it’s more like,

I can’t come over for dinner tonight because I might bend your daughter over my truck if I see her again.

As active as you and Joel have been, you have yet to hit a home run in lewd baseball terms. In fact, all the bases in your and Joel’s game were totally screwed up. You hit third base before you hit first, and you weren’t even sure if there was a second base. It was all just so confusing now.

But you wanted the home run, you wanted Joel, you desired him in that light. You wondered if he was ready for it.

Screwed over by your father asking Joel over for dinner and screwed over by Joel agreeing, you had no other choice but to sit through it and act like everything was normal.

And everything was normal for the first half of the day before you and your mother got into it.

The argument was recycled. You wished she would come up with better material. But it always came down to what you wanted to do after this summer since you recently graduated. And that was an ongoing war.

After two door slams, your mother retreating to her bunker, and you finding shelter in the bathroom, you’d say today’s battle was over.

You sit on the floor, bare feet touching cold tile. In a way, it soothes your shaky body.

No matter how old you get, this feeling never seems to waver with its intensity. The feeling that no one’s listening, no matter how hard you scream for them to hear you. Regardless of how often you have these conversations, you become a small child again, being scolded and told that what you thought and wanted wasn’t right.

You managed to collect your journal expertly hidden in your bedroom before fleeing to the safety of the bathroom. You flip open the pages with teary eyes.

You wish you didn’t have to admit that this was your safe space. On the bathroom floor, back flushed against the dark wood door as you closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing.

June 17th 2:28 P.M.

Mom started a fight with me about not traveling again. She says it’s crucial for me to start my career immediately. I don’t even know what I want to be yet.

You have to pause to blink back tears. You wish you had your life figured out like it felt everyone else did.

Why does she have to care so much that I want to leave for a little bit? It’s not like it’s forever. There’s so much more out there. I’ve studied miscellaneous classes for four years and want a break. Why do we always have to have this conversation over and over again? She always asks how I will take care of student loans and bills. I have repeatedly told her that I’ve been saving up for a while to do this. She keeps saying she wants what’s best for me and doesn’t want me to start my career too late. She says it’s hard to let me go.

I love her, and I appreciate her support through school, but school is what taught me about independence as well as academics. I want to live my life and have experiences you can only get by leaving home for a little bit. Maybe then I’ll better understand what I want for my future.

Your writing pauses, and you stare straight ahead at the beige wall, blurry eyes reading another cheesy sign. Bathroom - Open 24 Hours - Seat Yourself.

You decide to spare a moment of your mother’s casualties and pencil in something else that’s been recently stirring.

I’ve been seeing Joel Miller casually since the start of this summer. I can’t believe I’m even writing this. It’s weird -- but in a way, it’s also not? He’s older by like a mile, but he’s familiar, comfortable. Easy to talk to. It doesn’t feel like he’s judging me. I’m not trying to read too much into it, but this summer sucks less because of Joel. Whether he knows it or not.

---

You and your mother work around each other while setting up dinner in the backyard garden. She steps back inside to grab more wine glasses.

You’ve put on a nice summer dress. The hem lands somewhere on your thighs and flows with the breeze. After sobbing on the cold bathroom tile for an hour, you don't feel very pretty, but eating outside and soaking up some fresh air might make you feel better.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Joel Miller was the largest, broadest, lumberjack-est man you had ever met, but he moved as quietly as a mouse. Your eyes blink a few times as you haphazardly set down the bowl of mashed potatoes on the circular table.

“Hi.”

Your voice is raw and red, softer than usual. Joel seems to instantly take notice. You see it in the way his eyes soften. He moves a little closer, hands resting on the back of one of the white outdoor dining chairs.

Your face probably reads more panicky than intended. He picks up on your faulty mood and assumes the worst.

“Do they.. Do they know?” He asks, eyebrows knitted with a deep furrow in between.

Your eyes go doe-ish, shaking your head and occupying your hands with a spare cloth napkin.

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to. He takes one long look over your being and you feel it in the space between you.

Somethin’s wrong.

Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, Joel.

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing on you more.

Suddenly, you felt exposed. Like someone had ripped the curtain open on you. No one had ever seen right through you like this before. It was unsettling, but god, you just wanted to lean right into it.

If your parents weren’t just inside, you’d walk right into his front and curl your head in his chest just under the hook of his chin. You’d close your eyes and wrap your small arms around his waist.

He’d encircle you in his big, protective arms and shield you from the pain you’ve felt today. You’d listen to his heart thrumming against his chest, using the rhythm to try and slow down your breathing while he whispers to you in his sweet southern drawl.

S’alright, sweetheart. Everything’s gonna be okay. I see you tryin’.

His eyes flitter into light again, ease passing across his features.

“Like the dress.” He looks over you with a condescending little smirk. This man has never seen you in a dress in your life.

“Shut up. It’s just for dinner.”

He lets out a cocky little tut. “‘Cause you knew I was comin’ over?”

When you look up at him again, his hand gently rests over yours. You don’t have time to appreciate it; the sliding back door opens, and your father’s big booming laughter shakes the nearby lake. Joel’s subtle touch is instantly gone.

“Joel! So good to see you! Hey, great bonfire a few weeks ago.”

You take a deep breath and excuse yourself from the shop talk. You don’t want to be alone with your mother in the house, but the table still needs to be set up. You work around each other in silence. She grabs the salad, you grab the dinner rolls and green beans. You could hear a pin drop.

---

Dinner would have been better if you had an appetite. You spent the majority of your time making a tilled farm field out of your mashed potatoes. You’d flatten out your helping with a fork and then gently run the fork’s ribs through the moldable potatoes and create little crop lines out of it. You don’t always play with your food, but you weren’t really up for conversation. Your mother takes notice. She hates it. She hates that you were letting your personal problems exist in the company of others.

The only time you looked up even slightly was when Joel started talking. Sort of a calm in an unknown storm, you suppose. He looked so handsome without even really trying. You wore a crooked smile as you looked over the dark green button-up he was wearing. It was starting to be your favorite color, he wore it so well.

There were points where your parents would turn to each other. And Joel would turn to you. It was sort of a silent check-in.

Under the protection of the table, his hand found your knee, his big fingers lightly playing with the hem of your dress. It was the first time you cracked a real smile all dinner. Your hand ghosted over his, your nails lightly running soothing, slow lines on the underside of his wrist by his watch.

You doin’ okay?

Mhm.

It didn’t dawn on you that Joel might have felt he did something to cause your saddened mood. And this was his way of asking. You bit down on your lower lip, feeling his fingers lightly interlock with yours over your knee. Your eyelashes flutter at the warmth it propels through your body. It was just what you needed. Everything was going to be okay.

---

You’re working over a stubborn steak juice stain on a plate as the sun sets over the lake and glistens a soft yellow-orange hue through the windows in the kitchen. Your parents are moving around you while you rinse the dishes, back turned to them as they spoke in mundane conversation and pack up leftovers.

You don’t see him, but you can feel Joel’s presence as he enters the doorway. He watches you. He watches your parents. You wonder what he sees. The next thing you know, he’s shaking your parents hands and bidding them goodnight.

He stops at you. As the running faucet splashes against a few forks and a wine glass, you spare him a glance.

“Walk me out?” Your parents take notice of his ask. And not in the way you expect.

You tilt back and forth on your feet, looking back to the dishes. You really just wanted to finish what was left to clean and read in your room for the rest of the night.

“Uhm-”

“Go on and walk him out, honey. We’ll see you soon, Joel. Thanks for stoppin’ in.”

Your eyes go from Joel’s, to your parents. If they were anything, at least they were oblivious.

You and your mother share a look before she sighs and exits the kitchen. Your jaw loosens, not even realizing how hard you were grinding your teeth while looking at her.

“Yeah. Okay.” Your murmured voice is barely audible above the gushing sink faucet. After you set the plate on the drying rack and smear your wet hands on a dish towel, you walk Joel outside.

The night breeze off the lake sets in a layer of goosebumps up your arms.

Joel’s boots scuff against the gravel and dirt in his driveway, his footsteps pausing at his truck and turning to face you.

The rising moon and setting sun work in unison to highlight his aquiline nose and silver-sprinkled jawline. He’s charmingly handsome. Rugged features meet a stone facade.

You take a hesitant look back into the house. The kitchen light is still on, but no one is in the small windows.

“You wanna tell me what’s really goin’ on with you?” He crosses his arms, cocking his leg out as he leans his weight onto one of his hips.

You muster up a shrug and fold your hands around your arms to keep the light chill away. It felt like you couldn’t tell the truth, the house and your parents inside watching over you. The pressure of it all makes your shoulders lurch up a bit into your neck.

But Joel continues to press you. You’re making him nervous, you think, because he’s not accustomed to seeing you so quiet.

“Are you..” His words falter and fall off, and you can see the frown creased into his mouth. “You’re wantin’ t’stop seein’ each other?”

“What?” Now you’re the one frowning, closing the gap between you and Joel and taking him by his hand to the other side of the truck, using it as a shield between you and the rest of the world. Your back flushes against his driver-side door.

“No, I don’t want to stop seeing you, Joel.” You frown and squeeze his hand a little tighter in assurance. “Trust me. You’re kind of..” You struggle to make the words fit. Nothing seems right. You’re kind of the only person I want to be around right now.

Joel looks a little relieved. He doesn’t make you finish your sentence. He seems to connect the dots. Joel looks from your solemn face to the house behind you—the cause of your ill-stricken mood.

“How about we grab a drink n’talk.” It’s not a question, exactly, it’s more like a command.

You don’t want to talk about what happened, and you have a sneaking suspicion that if you two go off together, your parents will be asking questions.

You push the toe of your sneaker into the gravel and twist slowly back and forth.

“I should just head back inside. My parents are probably waiting up for me, anyway. Cleanup duty.” You say unenthusiastically with a dash of sarcasm. Joel’s eyes are looking past you, still at the house. You turn around to follow his eyeline. All the lights in the house have been turned off—even the porch light. Joel scowls at the sight, thinking how he always leaves the light on for Sarah.

The caged-in feeling returns, your chest tight as you look to your feet and try to breathe through the ache your heart held. You wanted to get out of here, and now.

“Never mind.” You bite down on your lower lip to hold it together. “Let’s go.”

You’re already swinging open Joel’s door, rust creaking at the joints as you slide into the passenger seat. These old trucks with no center console were so cool to you. Maybe you'd appreciate it more if you weren’t in such a shitty mood. But Joel’s already in the truck beside you, the warmth he’s radiating was welcome. His key turns in the ignition, and it clicks a few times before the engine roars to life.

You don’t talk, he doesn’t force you to. You feel at peace putting some distance between you and the lakehouse.

Joel drives past neighborhoods with funny street names. Thunderbird Lane. Firefly Drive. Sugar Loaf Lane.

As the sun just finishes setting, the whole town is covered in an orange glow that will soon fade to purple. Everything flies by your window, and moving at this speed feels like the cage is lifting around your chest, the clasps on your wrist snapping free.

Rolling down the window makes the breeze funnel into the truck and flow through your hair. Before you know it, your body is halfway out of the window.

“What ‘n God’s name do you think you’re doin’?” Joel’s tone was warning, his fist catching your dress in a fist around your lower back in an attempt to make sure you didn’t get thrown out of the truck. “Get back in here.”

You turned back so Joel could see you, eyes lit, and a smile from ear to ear. His hold slowly loosens at the sight before him.

Back arched out the window, he drives a little slower and towards the center of the road. You look up, arms outstretched into the night air as you breathe everything in. Fresh lungs, filled with a new perspective, no tears left to cry as you hang out of Joel’s window. The stars gleam, and the universe is vast.

Oh my god. You hear yourself mumble, feeling freedom reeling through your entire body. And like that, you were new again.

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips. You’re back in the truck now, and you roll the window up but not completely closed. The wind still tickles a breeze into your thrown-about hair. You look to Joel, his eyes already on yours.

Joel sees your fire has been re-lit, thrashing out licks of flame and building in intensity. He adores you wild and free.

“Better?”

You fix the space between you, your body melting into his side as your head lazily rolls onto his shoulder. His heavy arm finds its way around the tops of your shoulders to keep you sedentary.

“Much better.”

---

He ends up passing the central part of town. It’s better this way. Go somewhere he won’t be recognized with a woman half his age. He’s the one who lives in town throughout the year. You and your family only visit in the summer. It doesn’t help that the town is small, and Joel is one of a handful of skilled contractors in the area.

His rusted truck lulls to a jittery stop outside a small bar lit by a red neon sign reading, Past Lives. You wander inside, passing empty barstools and a glowing dartboard, while your sneakers crunch peanut shells littering the ground. You nearly slipped on a large pile of them, but Joel’s hand was firmly on your bicep before you could flail any further.

“You might be the clumsiest woman I’ve ever met.” He mutters, annoyance passing over his features.

You roll your eyes and scoot onto one of the tall barstools at a small square table against the wall. “I doubt that’s true.”

He shrugs his shoulders and cracks open a peanut, tossing it into his mouth. “You’re right. Your mother is the clumsiest woman I know. You get it from her. Once, I watched her glide five or six feet down the end of the dock and land in the water.”

An ill feeling passes over you again, pursing your lips as you trace your finger around the small bowl Joel is picking his peanuts from.

Joel halts his movements, chewing included, and watches as your eyes stare meaninglessly at the table.

“Never really seen you like this. Thought I’d like it if you were quiet for once. But now it just feels out of character.”

Joel’s boot teasingly nudges your sneaker under the table. His brown eyes look warm despite the lack of light in the dingy bar. Your stomach twists thinking about how he looked under the moonlight just half an hour ago.

Those pretty eyes of his meet yours. Soft. Kind. “Talk to me.”

A beaten-up sigh leaves your lips, tugging at the hem of your dress.

After a drink or two, you tell Joel everything he missed before dinner. How you and your mother fought. How it was all venom and tears, leaving you cold and alone on the bathroom tile. By the time the battle came to a halt, there was no clear winner or loser.

Joel’s an attentive listener. He doesn’t interrupt. He knows when to prompt you need a push. Joel’s pile of peanut shells has turned into a small molehill. The ice in your drink sloshes around as you start talking with your hands.

“I love her, I mean, she’s my mom. But she’s always fought me on this. This-this-...”

“The traveling,” Joel assists, his large hand nursing a small glass of whiskey. He looks amused like he enjoys watching you spew. You supposed he feels more relieved to see you explode like this rather than holding it all in.

“And-and it’s so much more than that! She fought me about leaving Texas for school, she fought me about doing a semester abroad, she just can’t let me go, it’s suffocating!”

You didn’t mean to sound so passionate, and you hadn’t realized how vocal you became until someone slowly clapped on the other side of the bar in appreciation. You stifled a laugh and put your head shyly in your hands.

He nods slowly, waiting to see what you’ll say next. You’re using him like you’re journaling at home, now it’s just interactive.

You sigh and pinch at the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes as you listen to an old country slow song humming throughout the bar.

“Didn’t even wanna come back this year.” Your words are barely above a murmur.

This makes Joel pause. “What d’you say?”

You sit up straight and sigh, crossing one leg over the other under the table. These stupid drinks are making you tell the truth. Be more vulnerable than you would ordinarily be. But it’s also because you’re talking to Joel, and he’s always been interested in what you have to say.

“I didn’t want to come back this year. These past few years, I didn’t come back to Danbury because I sort of- purposely- busied up my summer. Internships, work, anything to keep me busy and out from under their-their….” You pause to make hand gestures that are wide and all-encompassing.

Joel juts his jaw out to the side, lips pursed before he speaks again.

“M’happy you came back.”

There’s a moment of silence. Joel’s eyes aren’t on yours anymore. He’s swirling his glass around slowly and watching his ice rotate in a sloppy circle. You slowly start to smile as he looks bashful.

“What did you say, Mr.Miller?” You pry teasingly, reaching your hand over and gently stroking his watch band. The nickname makes his eyes narrow on yours.

“Nothin’. Forget about it.” He throws back the last of his drink, and you’re cooing for him to continue.

“Wha- Joel, come on! Why did you say that?”

He’s just trying to buckle down his smile, hiding it with his whiskey glass and shaking his head.

“Didn’t say nothin’.”

“Yes, you so did. Don’t even try to lie.”

“I’ve never lied a day in my life.”

Your eyes go wide, and now you’re smacking his forearm. He’s shoving quarters at you now, sliding them to your side of the table as a form of distraction.

“Can you just-” He scoffs under his breath and rolls his eyes, finalizing his quarter total to four. “-fuck off, go put a song on the jukebox.”

You sneer at him but obey. You look for something particular, pausing on Little Lies by Fleetwood Mac, smirking at him as you punch in his quarters. He seems confused as to why you stay standing at the jukebox.

The chorus hits, and you point accusingly at him as you do so.

“Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies,” you can’t even finish before your right foot catches on more slippery peanut shells, freezing like you were caught on ice skates and trying not to fall.

Joel’s hand has a vice grip on your bicep again until you regain your balance. God. Your face gathers heat as you snatch your phone off the table, and he lets out a laugh at your expense.

“Can’t sing,”

“Hey-”

“Can’t walk in a straight line.”

“I had like four drinks.”

“Two.” He corrects. There’s no hiding that you’re just unbearably uncoordinated.

“God. Just- get me out of here, Miller.”

Joel was biting back a smile. He likes teasing you, taunting you. Only because you know how to serve it back to him.

“Not until you see this. Wanna show you somethin’.” He sets down his whiskey and lays down cash to cover the tab.

You start your stride, and Joel’s already looking at you with instilled concern. You insist I’m fine. Go on. You follow him through a narrow hallway towards the restrooms, an exit door lit up with a red sign over it.

The walls are filled with signs, pictures, and letters, all illuminated by a soft flickering strip light. These were trails that people had left along the way, passing through the bar and leaving a piece of them behind for strangers to admire. It was like a memory wall.

Joel leans back against the men’s restroom doorframe, arms crossed as he silently admires the wall. And you.

Your fingers brush an old family picture timestamped from the late 80s. There were business cards, from bankers to bonds bailsman.

You feel Joel’s hand cast warmth on your hip, guiding you further down the hall. You follow his eyeline to a large yellow-light spoiled wall map. There were push pins all in different parts of the world.

“Look at all of these, Joel!” Your eagerness was evident as you stepped in front of him, finger flying from one point to the next, squinting past the tacks to read the cities people have visited.

“Bangkok, Thailand. Paris, France. Of course. London, Dubai, Tokyo.” Your voice trails off, finger-stopping around the empty parts of the map that some of the bargoers had yet to venture off to. The pins around the state of Texas were ironic.

You gently took a step back, Joel's broad and hardened front caressing your back. His arms gently wrap around you before they clasp at your front. You rest your temple against his bicep as you sigh. You found comfort in him tonight more than he could understand.

Your neck cranes to the side and up, observing his defined jawline from below. “Have you ever been out of the country?” Your face is lit with excitement, only to fall as he slowly shakes his head. You turn back to the map, your fingers gently holding onto his muscular forearm.

“Am I crazy for wanting to leave?”

You can feel a heavy breath leave through Joel’s nose, the air fanning over the top of your head.

“You’re not leavin’. You’re travelin’. You’ll come back, eventually.”

The muscle in your jaw twitches, and your eyes move to the Eastern side of the map, spotting the tiny European countries.

“Maybe my mom is so worried that if I decide to leave, I might not come back.” You say it as a joke. It makes Joel muster up a tut. But maybe, just maybe, you mean it.

---

You feel drops scatter from the dark black clouds overhead as you rush out to the truck, feeling the cold rain splash onto the exposed skin of your thighs.

Joel’s hot on your heels, doing his little side hop down the stairs and jogging lightly with his arms tucked into his sides. He’s already tossed you the keys to his truck. His body hovers over yours and shields the raindrops from landing on your head as you fiddle with unlocking the truck door.

“Any day now.”

His babbling thwarts your concentration.

“Fuck off, it’s like- rusted shut.” You tease before giving the handle one large tug, and it gives way with a creak. You slip in, dress hem tangling up on your upper thighs. Your hand flies to fix it instinctually, but you slow down when you see how adamantly Joel admires the exposed skin.

When you two make eye contact, he’s already cleared his throat and put the key in the ignition. He cranes his neck back to look out the rearview window, left hand cranking the wheel with precision while his right arm wraps around the back of your headrest. You swallow the lump in your throat, watching Joel reverse out of the bar’s parking lot and back onto the main road.

Your heart thumps, and you think he can hear it because his eyes are on yours when he turns back around. Magnetizing. And you have a hard time facing him without feeling a little shy. Because you’re thinking incredibly naughty things now.

On the drive home, the rain pelts the truck and hard. Joel’s wimpy wipers are working at full speed. He’s not concerned because he knows these streets with his eyes closed. He turns up the radio a little bit to drown out the rain. He does it for you to ease your nerves.

“You’re quiet.” He murmurs, his eyes still on the murky road in front of him.

You can’t help but be quiet. He looks so fucking hot. As dim streaks of lightning skitter across the sky, you see the silver hairs in his mustache and beard. His rain-dampened curls are recoiling, fresh, and wavy. His thick neck was lined with strong veins and muscle.

“So are you.” You murmur back.

His eyes catch you in sneaky glances. Your hair, pretty and dry since he shielded you in the bar’s parking lot. Dress half rumpled up your thighs, smooth skin of your legs exposed to his wandering pupils.

The truck suddenly shifts, veering off the main road.

“Woah,” you gasp, thinking the truck had slid at first. But Joel’s foot was still on the gas, cautiously guiding you off to a side road. You look around, covered by darkness and trees that shield your existence but do little to veil the obscene thoughts racing through your head.

Joel finally throws the truck into a parked position, your eyes watching as his hand snaps the keys out of the ignition.

He looks over at you expectantly. And you just deadpan.

“Get over here." He says between gritted teeth, voice drenched in lust as he snaps off his seatbelt and then your own.

His large hands pull you in as soon as you’re free. You don’t waste another minute, straddling his lap and resting between him and his steering wheel.

You clutch the collar of his dark green button-up, tugging him by his neck into your kiss. It’s messy and desperate, but you've wanted to taste him since dinner. His greedy hands are wrinkling your dress. The cold air tickles your warm thighs, and you whimper into his mouth.

Joel’s kisses are rough but fluent; he speaks the language of your lips. You take a moment to admire how different the two of you are and how it feels like he’s the key to your lock.

His warm palms slip up the front of your thighs as he kisses you, hasty and happy. He takes the hem of your dress with him. Joel is as warm as a furnace. He’s heating you from the inside out as your core begins to ache for him.

He pauses the kiss, large palm coming up to cup your cheek as his thumb traces along your lower lip. You take the time to catch your breath, feeling his own fog against the window next to you.

“Not exactly the most romantic spot.” His eyes shift with lust-filled guilt. “M’sorry.”

You work up a smile, leaning in to gently kiss his cheek and up his cheekbone.

“It’s okay. We’re not romantic.” Your clarification feels like a lie. He doesn’t need to know that.

The rain outside becomes blurred, and Joel’s looking through you again. Right through you. Your chest pounds under his watchful eyes. He sucks in the side of his cheeks, looks you up and down your face.

Don’t lie to me.

Don’t make me tell you the truth.

He decides to let you move on unscathed, your thighs clamping around his own with your knees at either side of his hips. His worry lines are stamped into his forehead as he looks over you cautiously.

You break into a smile, unable to stand him looking at you like you’re a lost puppy. “Joel,” you whisper into his ear, soft lips giving his ear a kiss as your nose lightly brushes against his soft curls. Your voice drops to a whisper, sweet and divine. “Don’t make me beg, Mr. Miller.”

Your lips suckle his earlobe and cast your tongue along the curve while his fingertips immediately dig deeper into the flesh of your hips. The sensation makes his cock twitch in his jeans.

You smirk as you grind your hips into his lap, a suppressed grunt leaving his parted lips. He’s into it. “You like this, Mr. Miller?” Your words are murmured against the shell of his ear, teeth gently catching his earlobe and lightly tugging.

Your words along with the rhythm of your hips over his lap have him in a tailspin.

“Knock it off.” He warns, teeth gritted, a low growl emitting from his throat while he grips you at the waist to pause any movement. He looks so sexy snarling at you like this. Your hand reaches between you two, palming against his cock until you feel it swell into the heart of your hand.

Joel is lazily planting kisses on the soft skin of your neck, he’s distracted by how good your hand feels.

You take turns half undressing one another. Joel pushes your dress up to your waist and loops his index finger into the band of your panties. He guides them down with your assistance. You kick the material off your ankles and move to pop open each button of his long sleeve. He goes to shrug it off, but you smile and tighten your hold on the collar.

“I like it on. Just wanna see your chest hair.”

His mouth tilts into a crooked smirk.

“‘lright, then. Good to know.” He leans back in and places messy kisses on your exposed neck. You can feel how badly he wants to sink his teeth in, but you share the mutual rule of keeping those things below the collar. Out of sight, out of other people’s nosy minds.

You struggle to admit that jimmying open his belt at this angle was pissing you off. You’re holding your breath until it clicks open, and you let out a sigh of relief. So does Joel.

A gasp leaves your lips as Joel lifts the both of you up purely with the strength of his hips, a low grunt leaving his pouted lips as he pushes his jeans down to his knees, along with his boxers. You sit back down over him and feel his heavy shaft pressing against your slick center. His girth makes you whimper.

The rhythm of the rain eases your racing heart. You take Joel’s pulsing member into your slightly shaky hand.

“Nervous?” It’s not cocky or concerned, just curious.

“M’not nervous.” You mutter, starting to pump his cock to get him to shut up. And it works. For a minute.

His head falls back into the seat as he watches you in admiration, his own hand wandering between your spread legs and gliding two fingers through your slick. His forefinger grazes against your clit, and he has you whimpering again.

“S’okay to be nervous.” His thumb slowly starts delicate circles into your bundle of nerves, and now he’s got your legs quivering.

You’re chewing at the inside of your cheek, shifty eyes meeting his. You pace your words this time. “I’m not nervous, Joel.” You pull away from him to create a line of spit from your mouth, landing on his pink tip already drizzling in precum. You swallow your nerve and bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Not with you.”

The mutual understanding links the two of you together, bound to the agreement in silence. You have a burning desire for one another. You’re scared, and he knows it. You push him to the limits, his heart beats for you.

Steam fogs the windows of Joel’s truck. The rain dances a fine line between pounding and pouring to slow and subtle.

Joel’s kisses lull you into a peaceful existence. You take off your dress, unable to stand anything between you and Joel. He’s warm as he wraps his arms around you, your tits flush against his thick chest.

You line him up by his base, Joel’s trying to hold himself still under you. You’re focusing hard, and he kisses your temple to ease your thoughts. He murmurs something, but you’re too busy concentrating.

His pink tip meets your warm flesh, and his tip slowly parts your walls. He’s seething between his teeth, how tight you are washes pleasure over his face. He wants you to go slow. You don’t want him to go easy on you. You can’t help but let his name tumble from your lips in desperation.

“Joel,” you whine, one hand clenching the fabric of his button-up by his shoulder while the other still weakly holds his base.

“M’here, baby.”

He’s rubbing soothing circles in your hips with his forefingers, trying to distract you from the stretch he’s creating inside you.

His breaths are coming out in hot puffs. The truck isn’t cold anymore, in fact, it’s only steaming up.

“So- fuckin’- tight.” He murmurs, eyebrows knitted together as his jaw was dropped open.

It was sharp at first, but the further you sank over him, the more you couldn’t contain yourself. As soon as his balls were flushed against your core, you were kissing him. Hot and heavy, desperate and needy, can’t get enough of each other sort of kisses. One of his hands holds the back of your head to keep you close while your fingers are delicately feeling up his chest and mazing through salt and pepper hair.

You smirk lazily against his lips, pulling away to rest your head on his shoulder. With this leverage, you start to roll your hips down onto his. Joel’s hands assist, squeezing your ass and guiding you smoothly up and down his shaft. You’re both moaning one another’s names, hazy eyes watching each other as long as they can before eventually drifting closed.

You wished you weren’t fucking in his truck, your riding skills were a lot better than this, but if you try and pop up, your head will just smack into the roof. And he’ll make fun of you for as long as he knows you.

“God- feel so good, Joel.”

You’re panting already a few minutes in. You don’t want Joel to think you can’t do this, you don’t want his help. But your body is crammed in limited quarters, and you’re already sweating.

He feels good. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s had sex. He’s not exactly the most outgoing of gentlemen. Thinking about him being with other women, maybe even women his age stirs a weird pit inside your stomach.

One hand steadies itself on Joel’s forearm while the other gently clutches his cheek. You leave a messy moan against his ear.

“Do you like fucking girls half your age, Mr. Miller?” You ask with a teasing smirk, messy kisses against his stubble and his ear ensuing.

He’s grunting every time you throw yourself back into him, skin clapping against his thighs, his hands slipping from your hips to your ass and squeezing the juicy flesh. “-like fuckin’ you.”

A low, extended groan leaves his lips as he holds your hips down, filling you full and having you sit with it. You throw your head back, and your eyes shudder closed with a loud moan occupying the truck.

You tell yourself that you’re both just fuck happy. You can worry about the depth of Joel’s words later. He feels too good inside of you for the first time to give a shit.

Joel’s thrusts bring you back to life, hand landing against his window and leaving a print mark against the steamy glass.

Joel senses your languid movements. He thinks you look pretty being fucked in his trunk during a thunderstorm. The darkness wraps the both of you up, only seeing flashes of each other’s features. He combs his large hand into your hair, catching your striking features with his hooded eyes. The slope of your nose. The curvature of your collarbones. Your pretty lips that he can’t stop staring at.

Joel enjoys the control too much for you to be on top for a second longer.

You collapse onto the truck’s long leather seat, lips parting in surprise as he maneuvers you to lie back without slipping from your entrance.

“H-Holy fuck, Joel-” You’re breathless.

Joel’s jaw clicks tighter as he flattens one of his large palms beside your head for leverage, hovering over you as he begins to methodically snap his hips into yours. Your desperate cries for more fill the truck.

Both of you are horridly cursing, some in the form of whines and moans and others in the form of whispered grunts.

Fuckin Christ-

Holy shit, Joel, please-

Feel so god damn good, princess-

Oh f- fuck me Joel, fuck me!

You’re already feeling the knots in your stomach tether tighter and tighter together, back arching as your chest brushes against his nose.

Joel takes the opportunity and licks a hot stripe between your breasts. You know he tastes your glistening sweat, but the trail from his tongue makes you clench tighter around him.

You catch Joel’s unfiltered groan in your mouth, his forehead resting against yours as his amber eyes grace yours.

He’s close, you can see it in the way his features contort and his thrusts become more unpredictable. You had no idea he could fuck this good.

Joel brings a hand up to your lips and offers you two fingers. You whimper but reluctantly take them past your mouth. You suckle and lather your tongue up and down each digit, it makes his cock twitch inside of you.

He plucks his fingers free with a pop, a trail of spit extending from your bottom lip to your chin as he reaches between you both.

Finding your swollen bundle of nerves doesn’t take him more than a second. You were so turned on it was almost painful.

Joel’s tip sweetly kisses your cervix at this angle, and you are so close to spilling over. Your hands cup his face, pulling him into you as you share a messy kiss. You think about how scared you were to kiss him before, but now it makes you feel a sense of protection and safety. You wrap your arms around his neck, you need him close.

“Joel,” you whimper, clenching your eyes closed and dropping your jaw as he finds the perfect rhythm circling your clit.

“Can’t hear ya, baby,” He grunts into your ear. You can feel him tiredly smirking against your cheek, knowing he’s fucking you so good you’re struggling to find the words.

“Fuck,” you mutter, your legs clenching tighter at the sides of his hips. “M’on birth control, finish inside me,” you whisper against his ear.

You can hear him let out a short, breathy chuckle against your ear. It only drives him more, knowing he can fill you up.

“Y’sure, sweetheart?”

“Want to?”

His teeth are gritted as he growls into your ear. “Course I wanna fill your sweet cunt up.”

It was hopeless after that.

A crack of thunder and a strike of lightning conspire, your view of Joel illuminating his gorgeous face in a white-silver flash.

The tight coils inside you snap free, a broken moan of his name being the last thing you remember saying before white stars filled your vision. Your hold on Joel loosens as your orgasm crashes through you ungracefully, making you twitch and rut your hips below him.

His fingers and his thrusts don’t stop. He rides out your orgasm, following suit until he flushes his hips against yours and lets out a heavenly groan of your name. You’re still under him, vision blurry and hearing fuzzy. He finds solace in the crook of your neck, nuzzling a home for himself in the space and losing himself deep inside you.

His body shudders lightly as he finishes, spilling white streams into you for who knows how long. Your hand is gently stroking the hair at the back of his head, fingers combing through dark curls as he breathes hot air against your neck.

You both slowly blink back to life. He’s complimenting you, but you’re too blissed out to hear the details.

So good, baby… Such a pretty fuckin’ girl... So lucky.

Joel tuts softly as he attempts to free his softened length, but you whine and tighten your legs around his hips to keep him stationary.

Your eyelashes flutter as you feel gentle kisses by the corners of your eyes, tiredly smiling as you open them before slowly sitting up onto your elbows. Joel takes the opportunity to pull out and yank his boxers and jeans back into place, securing his belt last.

He still keeps his shirt unbuttoned for you, partially because you have a hold on a random corner to keep it so.

With the absence of your pants hotboxing the truck, you slip back into your dress with a light shudder. You reach past Joel’s leg to retrieve your panties and pull them up your stems to keep his spillage to a minimum.

“Good?” He asks, a smile slowly growing on your lips. He looked so fucked out. You both probably did. You attempt to fix Joel’s hair, and he takes his thumb to swipe away the saliva trail on your chin.

“Good.” You agree. Quiet and sapped, but good.

You force Joel to play a few games of tic-tac-toe on the foggy glass before the storms lighten up, and you can actually see more than a few feet in front of the road.

You’re picking at the skin around your nails the entire drive home. So many questions compile in your worn-out brain.

What if your parents noticed you were gone? What if they were awake, waiting for you by the kitchen window, and they see you slip out of Joel’s truck? Try explaining yourself after that one.

As Joel pulls into his driveway, you observe the lake house is still dark and silent. Empty but also not. Joel’s warm palm is on your leg. It draws your attention away from the window, focusing just on him.

“Joel?”

“Hm?”

You shift your jaw before you lay your head back against the headrest, gentle pitter patters of the last rain cloud splashing on the window.

“What do you do when you’re not working? Like on that Saturday when I talked to you at your truck.”

He musters up a half-mouth smirk. “Didn’t do much talkin’ that I recall.”

You roll your eyes and slam a closed fist against his shoulder. It barely rocks his arm, let alone his body. “M’serious.”

He lets out a long sigh and looks out the windshield. “I do stuff around town or- for the town.”

He’s so hard to push details out of. He’s like a jammed stapler.

“Go on. So, like, volunteering?”

Joel rolls his eyes and shrugs. “S’not really like that.”

“That’s what it sounds like.”

He doesn’t say anything, just sort of starts smiling. “Just like keeping myself busy. But now I have you on my plate.” He teased. Your chest felt warm, knowing he kept a place for you in his hectic life.

“What sort of stuff are you working on right now?”

He takes a long, deep breath through his nose. You can hear it whistle before he lets it all out of his mouth, followed by clearing his throat.

“Y’know that old church past that big field on the east side of Danbury?”

You mindlessly shake your head and shrug.

“When I was a kid, I used t’go to that church-”

“For God?” You can’t help but blurt it out in shock.

He narrows his eyes on you and smirks.

“M’not exactly the Godly type.” You look over his chiseled jawline and beautiful, robust features. You’d have to disagree. He looked like one of God’s favorites.

“So.. why are you trying to fix an old church?”

Joel slowly smiles, eyes mindlessly on the dashboard of his truck before he answers. “I have a thing for the broken, used, and abandoned.”

Your head cocks to the side, and you give him a look, pressing him for an honest answer. Or maybe it was an honest answer, and you’re just looking for a better answer.

He shuffles around in his seat before he continues, hand still aimlessly circling on your thigh. “It wasn’t operable when I was a kid, just rundown, abandoned. There used to be a stained glass mural on the-uh... east-facing wall. So when the sun came up through it, the whole place just- lit up.” He pauses and shifts his focus to you.

“Now, y’know, it’s fallin’ apart. Dumb kids throwin’ rocks at it and chipping away the glass, age makin’ it all dust-covered.” Joel shrugs and falls back into his closed pit of secrecy.

“So… you’re fixing up the town.”

A pause. “More or less.”

“You know how to make a stained glass mural?”

He shakes his head and purses his lips. “No. But I can figure it out.”

You twist your lips and slowly climb over his lap once more. His eyes watch you curiously while his hands settle on your hips. You cup either side of his neck, fingertips lightly brushing up against messy curls.

“Can I see this mural you’re working on?”

He takes a long time to answer. So much dead silence fills the truck you start to feel a bit awkward about asking, like maybe it was too far.

“Please.” You ask or tell rather. You kiss his lips lightly to try and sway his pending decision. “I won’t judge, I think it’s cool.”

“Cool?” He instantly chirps, cocking an eyebrow up at you.

“I didn’t say you were cool-”

“You most certainly did.”

You’re shaking your head, and his pointer finger is prodding into your side to get under your skin. “I said that it’s cool. The stained glass stuff, that is what is cool.”

He’s already sneering at you. “Whatever you say, princess.” You can feel your cheeks singe with heat. Your hand anxiously scrabbles for the door handle, letting the rusty door creak open for your exit.

Sneakers scrape gravel after you climb out of Joel’s lap, his boots landing suit.

He smoothes a hand down your dress, your eyes watch before you face him.

“You gonna be alright?” Joel's face is laced with slight concern, his head cocking past you and looking to the house.

You shrug and shake your head. “Yeah. We’ve had this fight before, and we’ll have it again.”

He doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer. He’s teetering on his heels as a stray raindrop lands on your cheek.

“You can..” He trails off as his thumb comes up and brushes away the droplet, hand lingering before he cups your cheek. “Y’know, can always stay with us if you need a break. M’sure Sarah would love the company.” And so would he.

Your eyes soften, the gesture warm and safe. You couldn’t even imagine the trouble you’d stir up at Joel’s house. Sure, you could occupy yourself with Sarah when she returned from camping, but what would you and Joel do? Well, besides the obvious…

Your lips curl into a tight smile, not wanting him to reel in his invite out of pure bashfulness.

“Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.” Your eyes are on his until he sighs, his shoulders reset into that of a broad lumberjack once more. His eyes looked like they were scheming. It’s fast, like a flash, and before you know it, the look is gone.

“Take care of yourself.” He leans down and plants a kiss on the crown of your head, thumb skimming up the line of your cheekbone. Suddenly, your heart is racing again.

You cup his cheeks and pull him down for a real goodbye kiss, two sets of pouted lips against one another, unwilling to let go until you have to.

---

“What are you doing after work?” You’re on a call with Joel, phone pressed between your ear and hunched shoulder.

“What are you wearing right now?” He taunts, voice crackling in and out of connection since he was currently working at a house out of town.

“Ha.” You deadpan, closing the sliding glass door behind you as you step back into the empty lake house, skin sweltering from being in the sun for the better half of the afternoon reading on the dock. “No, really, I could use your help.”

The phone volume shrills in your ear as you hear an electric saw roar to life, Joel cursing repeatedly as he walks away from all the noise. “Jesus fuckin-.. so damn lou- Can you hear me better?”

Once the saw dulled, you put the phone back to your ear. “Yeah.”

“What do you need help with?” His voice sounds a little preoccupied like he’s trying to focus on you, but he’s got a million things running through his head.

“My window.” You say with a frown, stepping into your bedroom and cursing at the sight of it. “Won’t open. Maybe you can crack it open with some of your handy dandy tools.”

You smile as he musters up a little laugh at your hardware knowledge or lack thereof. “I don’t know about today, baby.”

“You are the property maintenance guy for our lakehouse now, right? You have a duty to help me.” You tease, stepping back outside with a fresh bottle of water and an apple. Your teeth pierce the skin, and the apple’s juices gush past your lips.

“Jesus, fine. I’ll be over. I’m almost done.”

You purse your lips to hide your smirk. God, he can’t even see you, but you don’t want him to know he’s got you flustered.

“Parents are running errands today... If that’s extra incentive for you to hurry up.”

Joel pauses on the other end. He’s probably got that stupid smirk on his face. “In that case, I’ll leave now.”

“I knew you’d see things my way. Thank youuu.” You playfully coo.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.

An hour later, Joel’s outside your window while you assist from the inside. His face is twisted in concentration, eyes narrowed on a misaligned hinge that he works free with a screwdriver, realigns, then screws tight into its proper place.

He looks stupid hot so focused like this. Tanned skin, hair a little dusty from work. The veins in his forearm were bulging as he uses pressure to keep the hinge in place. You had to blink a few times to keep yourself from staring. He feels it.

“Can I help you?” His voice was thick and echoing since he was speaking to you between a glass pane.

You bite back a smirk and shake your head.

He pulls off the hinge and nods, pats it a few times before looking at you and giving you a thumbs up.

You decide to let him come inside before you open the window yourself, twisting at the string of your bikini bottom as you wait. He took in your appearance as soon as he parked in the driveway.

“What?”

“...Nothin’. Like the outfit.”

“Joel, I was sunbathing. And reading. It wasn’t an intended distraction.” It was.

“Mhm.”

Joel appears at the entrance of your bedroom. You silently curse yourself for not updating it more. It still looked like a sixteen-year-old fangirl lived in it.

He appreciates the posters and magazines, checking his handiwork at the window.

“Wanna give it a go? Open it?”

You eagerly smile and step up to the window, playfully tugging on it and heaving.

“I-.. It’s still stuck.” You say with a frown. “Joel, you said you fixed it.”

“What? Shouldn’t be-” He’s already got his hands on the frame and tugs, feeling it easily slip up and open. You’re giggling as his face deadpans.

“You think you’re so funny.” He taunts, his body turning towards you as he chucks his tools haphazardly on your bed. You’re already attempting to take leaps and bounds away from Joel, but his arms are long, and so are his strides.

His rough hands capture you by your waist, dusty and calloused fingers ghosting over your warm skin.

Joel’s lips eagerly greet yours, both of you grinning into the kiss. It’s slow as you let it envelop you. Your heart races. He’s not supposed to be here, your parents could come home any time now.

You bite down on your lower lip, feeling butterflies in your stomach as he backs you up against your wall, foreheads gently pressed together. His eyes flick behind you, and your head follows his gaze.

“Boybands, huh?”

You roll your eyes and smirk, fingers moving to the button of his jeans.

“Shut up, Joel. Leave the boybands out of it.”

A car door slamming catches both of your attention. Heads whip on instinct, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Your parents are home, and Joel’s half-hard in your palm.

“Oh, shit.” You curse.

Joel’s already moving, grabbing his tools off your bed, and adjusting his jeans. “Lemme handle it.” Your heart pounds as you and Joel greet your parents at the door. They walk in with fresh shopping bags. A cheesy sign for the living room sticks out from one of them.

“Joel?” They both ask in unison, looking between the man beside you and you in your bikini. Your mother’s face lightly flushes.

“Hey, Joel! Good to see ya!” Your father sets the bags on the table and grabs a beer from the fridge. You shift on your feet and just let Joel lead.

Your dad’s oblivious, your mother is more curious

“What are you... What are you doing here?” She tries to ask casually with a little smile.

Joel raises his screwdriver, strategically keeping the toolbag in front of his lower half. You try not to smirk.

“Was fixin’ your daughter’s jammed window.”

Your mother's face softens before she smiles. “Y’know, that thing has been jammed for… years. Thank you.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile and nod. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Miller.” The light glare he sends you means you’ll pay for that one later. Joel clears his throat and nods, too. He turns to you now, and you share a look.

“Just… let me know if it happens again. Might need to replace the hinge entirely. Small piece of it could be broken, might be why it keeps slippin’ out of place.”

“Yeah. For sure. Thanks.”

You walk past your mother and open the door from him, but he still stands between your parents. What the hell is he doing?

“While I have you both, I was just tellin’ your daughter ‘bout a business trip I have comin’ up.” Huh? “ It’s not for Miller Contracting. It’s more for the town. I’m gettin’ materials for the old church-”

“Oh, the one with the broken stained glass mural on the east side of town?” Your mother chirps in. “We just drove past it. Just saying how someone needs to fix it up.” Joel’s lightly nodding to your mother’s words, her face soft as she listens to him with curiosity.

“Well, I was tellin’ her about it ‘cause I could use some help getting materials from a supplier in Houston. I’d normally ask Sarah to tag along and help, but she said she’s got some graduation parties next weekend that she doesn’t wanna miss. Would it be alright if-”

“Oh, of course! Yes, please, if you need her help and she wants to go, she’s all yours.”

Your eyes are wide, trying not to seem too shocked by Joel secretly sweeping you out from under your parents without them even noticing.

Joel turns to you, eyebrow cocked. “That okay with you? Next weekend. Friday to Sunday sort’f thing.”

A whole weekend alone with Joel? Your insides are bursting, but you have to seem apathetic.

“Mhm. Sure.”

Joel sneaks you a private smile. “Really appreciate it. Ya’ll have a good rest of your evenin’.” And with that, he’s out the front door.

You couldn’t believe what just happened.

You try to act casual before you make it off to your room, but your mother’s voice pulls you to a halt.

“Ah-ah, not so fast. Back it up.”

You quietly sigh before coming back to the main part of the kitchen. She narrows her eyes on you and lightly crosses her arms. Your fight with her from yesterday is still fresh, and it makes holding prolonged eye contact difficult.

“Are you seeing a boy?”

Your eyes widen on instinct. Your dad pauses the sip of his beer and watches you carefully. You try to hold together a poker face as best as you can, but you’re worried your shock is already seeping through.

“Wha- A boy? Why would you think that?” The laugh you force out sounds too fake. And you’re a terrible liar. You feel so hot all of a sudden. You wished Joel was still here to talk you in and out of shit. It was a skill of his you’d surely have to learn.

“Well, we heard the door close really late last night after you walked Joel out. We were just wondering if... You know, there’s a special someone that you’re seeing.” Of course, she hoped you would tie yourself down to someone in Texas.

“Yeah, did a boy pick you up after dinner or somethin’?” Your father presses, eyes narrowing protectively over you. “You seein’ a boy or not, honey?”

You didn’t want to lie, but you certainly weren’t ready to tell them the truth about you and Joel.

“Uhm.” Your brain scrabbles for an answer and ultimately chooses poorly. “Sorta. I don’t know. Kind of?”

Your mother tightens her lips in a smile and nods a little. “We’ll let it go for now, but-”

“God- Mom, please.” You groan and put your face in your hands, closing your eyes and wishing this nightmare was over.

“But,” she annoyingly emphasizes, “If it gets serious, we want to meet this young man.” She says with a firm nod before turning back to your father and putting away the items in their shopping bags.

Meet him? They want to meet the boy you’re seeing? What will they do when they find out the boy is actually a full-grown man, a forty-something-year-old with a teenage daughter? And that man was not only their friend and neighbor but Joel fucking Miller. Fuck. Your luck was running out.

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