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#pedro pascal
molt3ngold · 17 hours
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strang3lov3 · 1 day
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Chevelle
Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)
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Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.
A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.
Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.
Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷
It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel. 
Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.
Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day. 
-
You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple.  You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.
You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something. 
You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy. 
You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.
The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand. 
“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you. 
You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.
You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.
-
In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic. 
When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.
What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable. 
-
The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”
“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”
“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”
Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you. 
You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.
“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”
“Mm,” you hum.
“Hit and run, can you believe that?” 
“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”
“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.” 
Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”
Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.
“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”
“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 
Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”
“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake. 
Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.” 
The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”
“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.” 
 The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”
You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”
Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear,  “S’okay, sweet girl.” 
“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”
“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”
“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”
Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles. 
He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”
You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”
“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft. 
Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you. 
You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”
You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.
 “Is that it?” 
“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”
His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says.  “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”
Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.” 
You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste. 
“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.
Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to. 
He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”
You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.
What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before.  Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs. 
“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view. 
Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.
He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”
The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try. 
You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you. 
“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”
Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”
His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips. 
“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment. 
“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. 
Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.
From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”
“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt. 
“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”
You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold. 
“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”
You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”
“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”
It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”
Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”
You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.
“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.
He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure.  You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure. 
Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on. 
You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg. 
“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”
Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.
Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend. 
His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.
With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man. 
Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further. 
 “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”
“You want me…”
“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.
He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”
If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3
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From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻
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PEDRO PASCAL on the set of ���The Uninvited’
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Dr. Miller
Orthopedic!Joel Miller x afab!Reader || W/C: 3.5k
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Summary: You’ve been dealing with a pain in your hip for a few weeks now, and it’s time you visit a specialist to see what’s going on. Part 2 coming soon.
Warnings: Reader is able-bodied. No physical descriptions for reader, all neutral (“your thigh”, etc). She/her pronouns for reader. Your occupation is a writer (LOL😙). Reader has a weird hatred for doctor appointments. Slight clothing description, no sizes mentioned. Pet names (darlin, angel, girl). Canon divergent - no outbreak, medical professional AU. You and Joel are literally strangers… like… ya just met today. 18+ MDNI. Inherent power imbalance (doctor-patient relations)….doctor’s office….Lots of teasing/dirty talk...oral (f receiving)…“author chose not to use archive warnings” - I don’t want to say too much!!! But pls note that there is explicit sexual activity occurring!!... proceed with horny caution… Please let me know if I need to add anything up here!
A/N: I was talking to @javierpena-inatacvest about a doctor’s experience I had (IT WAS NOWHERE NEAR INAPPROPRIATE LIKE THIS LMAOO JUST TO CLARIFY), and then we started joking around about if Joel were the doctor that I saw. So, I wrote this👹. Also I must mention!! I wouldn’t have been completely inspired/motivated to write this if it weren’t for @swiftispunk’s gynecologist!Joel Miller series she put out a little while ago!! It’s fucking amazing and yummy, and if you haven’t read that yet, DO IT NOW! 🫶 Alrighty, I love you all, I hope you enjoy xxx
MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG || see end notes
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Your appointment with DR. MILLER is coming up! Please arrive 15 minutes prior to your appointment time: 4:00PM. 
You got this text yesterday, grumbling to yourself about the fifteen minute early request. Why not just schedule the appointment for 3:45 then? you thought. 
Doctor appointments were your least favorite thing on the planet, no matter the reason. So when your hip started giving you trouble these last few weeks, so much so that you began to walk with a limp, you knew you weren’t going to get away with time as your medicine. 
You were pretty knowledgeable when it came to your body — that’s what years of not wanting to see medical professionals have trained you for — so with this particular pain, you knew you had to see a specialist. After doing some research to see which doctors took your insurance, you finally settled on a practice just ten minutes from your house. 
You arrived at your appointment at exactly 3:45, filling out the preliminary paperwork in less than five minutes leaving you to wait for ten.
Around 4:01, your name was called by one of the nurses, directing you to a room with two chairs, a medical bed, a light screen on the wall to display x-rays, and a computer screen mounted to the wall with a shelf below for the mouse and keyboard. The computer screen was facing away from where you’d be sitting. 
You settle yourself into one of the chairs, waiting for the nurse to start his round of questions only for the doctor to ask you the same thing over again. 
“Can you confirm your name and date of birth for me?” 
“Mhm,” you reply monotonously, stating your information back to him. 
“Great, thanks! And what brings you in today?”
“Well, the last few weeks I’ve had this dull pain in my left hip. It hurts in any kind of position I put it into, and I haven’t really done anything out of routine to trigger this,” you explain, still pretty annoyed. 
“And do you have pain right now? Can you rate it, 1 to 10?” The nurse asks as he types up your explanation. 
“Mm, I’d say about a 6 right now. Though, the pain has gone up to a 10.” 
The nurse hums in acknowledgment, clicking a few things on screen before he sets the computer into sleep mode. “Alright, I’ve put everything you told me in your chart. Dr. Miller will be in here shortly to review it over with you and get to the bottom of your pain. I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with this for a few weeks!”
His sweet and validating demeanor is like a slap to the face. He’s just doing his job, while you’re over here being not as sweet for absolutely no reason. You let out a deep sigh before you give the nurse an apologetic smile. “Thank you,” you say sincerely. “I really appreciate your help.”
“Just doing my job,” he responds with a smile, shutting your door softly to give you some privacy while you wait. 
Maybe you’ve been a little harsh towards the people in this field. Yeah, you’ve had some shit experiences, and maybe that’s why you’ve always loathed appointments of any kind, but not all of them are that way. Some are simply just doing their job. 
A few minutes pass, and a small knock to your door pulls you out of your thoughts. 
“Hey, there, I’m Dr. Miller,” the man says, a deep southern drawl blessing your ears. 
The moment your eyes drag up to meet the tall man before you, all words and breath are stolen from your lungs. 
Oh, fuck. 
Dr. Miller is fucking hot. 
His eyebrows begin to furrow, staring at you a little longer before saying your name questioningly, followed by a “Right?” 
Finally, you break out from your trance, realizing you’re utterly staring. Your eyes go wide, and you realize he’s been holding his hand out for you to shake. “Oh, shit..” you mutter to yourself. “Hi, yes, that’s me- sorry, Dr. Miller-” you ramble, cheeks on fire as you shakily reach for his hand. 
A soft chuckle escapes his mouth, and God, your entire body starts to grow hot. “No worries, darlin’,” he smiles. God, his smile. What kind of water does this man drink?
You laugh nervously as your heart lurches in your chest from his name for you. Bedside manner, you think. He probably calls all his patients some kind of nickname. For comforting purposes. Right? You keep quiet, not wanting to let more words slip from your mouth in the case that you embarrass yourself more. 
Dr. Miller logs himself into the computer, his eyes squinting at the screen as he reads the notes the nurse left behind. 
“Few weeks… dull pain�� left hip…” he whispers to himself. “Uh huh,” he says as he finishes reading. “And you’re sure you don’t recall doin’ anythin’ out of your regular routine?”
“No, Dr. Miller, I really can’t,” you grimace, hating that you really don’t know what’s wrong. 
As he sits there contemplating, you can physically see the gears turning in his head, and it’s just about the hottest thing you have ever seen. He is just about the hottest thing you’ve ever seen-
“Wait,” he says, the lightbulb shining bright above his head. 
“What?” You reply a little too eager for your liking. 
“What do you do for work, darlin’?” He asks, scrolling through your chart once more to see if your occupation is on file. 
The second he asks the question, you feel your face flush impossibly more, knowing damn well where this conversation is going.
You hesitate before you answer. “...I’m…I’m a writer…” you whisper, a defeated smile weakly plastered across your face.
His eyebrows raise, a silent smug uh huh already bouncing around in your brain. 
“And do you, uh… you sit a lot? Don’t ya?” Dr. Miller asks, knowing your answer already. 
“I do,” you admit, your hands going up to cover your face, your guilt. 
“And I reckon you forget to take them breaks? Stretch out your body a bit, huh?” Dr. Miller has given up hiding his shit-eating grin at this point.
“You reckon right,” you mirror his sentiment. 
“Mhm,” he hums. He waits for you to remove your hands from your face and you meet his eyes. When you do, he cocks his head to the side, gesturing to the bed. “Hop up there real quick, I wanna try somethin’.” 
“Oh, okay,” you say softly, sitting at the edge of the bed timidly. His hands reach for your shoulders first, guiding you to lay flat on your back. “I’m gonna slide you closer to the edge here, so your legs dangle off. That okay?”
“Yeah,” you squeak out, your breath struggling to make its way to your lungs at the way his ginormous hands ghost the coast of your thigh. 
At your confirmation, his hands secure themselves on the underside of your thighs, pulling you to the very edge of the bed, your hips nearly an inch away from being right against his own. You swear he can hear the rapid beat of your heart right now. 
“Still alright there?” he asks. So attentive, you think. You catch yourself smirking, immediately placing your hand over your mouth. You give him a muffled mhm in response. 
“Let me know if I’m hurtin’ ya at all, okay, darlin’? I’ll stop,” he tells you as he slowly begins guiding your legs open. He spreads your legs into a near butterfly position — you can feel the tightness in your hips slowly start to release. “Deep breath in and out, it relaxes your body more.”
And to your surprise, it does. You take one deep breath in, then out, and you can feel your legs fall even wider, your hip joint completely relaxed and not as tight as it was when you came in. 
“Atta girl,” Dr. Miller beams, feeling the stretch. Your heartbeat floats down to the heart between your legs under his praise, and all you wish you could do right now is shut your legs in case of any wetness that’s bound to say hello any minute now because you are fucking soaked. You knew you should’ve worn underwear today, damn it. 
He keeps you in this position for a minute, letting your body enjoy the freedom of pain. If he can feel your body beginning to squirm — and not out of any discomfort — he doesn’t say anything. Although he can’t deny the pretty intimate position he’s put you two into. And, you are quite beautiful. He couldn’t help the butterflies in his gut when he first walked in. And seeing you get all flustered with him? It was so damn cute-
“Why the left?” He blurts out, trying to get his thoughts away from the fact that he’s holding you open and can practically smell the arousal radiating from you — nevermind the tiniest hint of your wetness leaking through your sweatpants.
You track your eyes to his. His gaze was somewhere else before he met yours. “Huh?” You ask, too distracted to register his sudden question. 
“You, uh- you say you write. And you sit. A lot. How are you sittin’ that it’s only your left buggin’ ya?” 
“Oh,” you sigh. “Yeah… I probably don’t sit in very good positions…” you admit. His eyebrow quirks. You explain more. “…I sit…with my left leg propped up-”
“Jesus,” Joel cuts you off with a headshake. “Well, I mean. You’re pretty flexible,” he says as he, without thinking, squeezes your thigh. “Maybe you oughta incorporate yoga or somethin’ throughout your day,” he suggests. 
The tiniest of gasps leave your throat at the sensation. “Yeah, maybe,” you reply breathily. 
“Y’know what, let’s try one more thing, alright? How you feelin’, you okay still, darlin’?” 
“I’m good, Dr. Miller,” you reply honestly, your head feeling like it’s floating already the longer you stay in his presence and his touch.
He smiles at you, his eyes warm with a hint of something else you can’t — or shouldn’t — pinpoint. He places both hands on your left thigh, one on the outside and one on the inside. “Alright, I’m gonna pull your thigh over your right one. Try ‘n keep your back flat on the bed. I wanna see how this stretch makes you feel. Again, darlin’, let me know if I’m hurtin’ ya.” 
The second your thigh crosses over, a shameless moan leaves your throat — your legs crossing did absolutely nothing to ease your aching center, only stimulating the smallest but sweetest amount of friction to get you to break. “Fuck-” you gasp, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry- that was loud-”
You glance at Dr. Miller. He’s already looking at you, a pained look on his face. He’s tense. The grip he has on your thigh is tightening, but you don’t say anything. You don’t want to. “You don’t need to apologize for that, angel,” he coos. “It’s such a relief when you finally get that release, huh?” 
“Ye- yeah,” you manage, your voice barely a whisper, your eyes transfixed on the way his hands look on your body. He’s guiding you back into your first position, the one that opens you for him. 
“Yeah,” he repeats. “Ya just needed to be opened up a bit. Ain’t that right, angel?” He asks, hands fixed on the inside of both your thighs, dangerously close to where you desperately need him. 
Your breathing is heavy, heart running a mile a minute. “Dr. Miller,” you whine. “Please,” your eyebrows furrow, eyelids fluttering shut on the high your body is giving you. 
One of his hands scoot closer in, his thumb slowly starts to caress the outer part of your pussy. “What‘s wrong, darlin’? Are ya in pain now?” 
“Mhm,” you whimper, hips bucking into his hold. 
“Where, baby? Tell me where, let me fix it for you,” he says in a baby, almost mockful tone. You’re too fucking turned on to analyze how he’s speaking to you. All you know is that you need his fingers, his tongue, his cock — something, to fuck you right now. 
You buck your hips once more, wordlessly showing him where. That won’t do for Dr. Miller. “Need to hear ya, angel,” he says, a mix of comfort yet stern in his voice. 
“F-fuck-” you let out. You are not about to beg your doctor to touch you right now. That is wrong on so many levels. Especially for him. He could lose his license, his entire career, his-
“Touch me, Dr. Miller, please,” you whisper desperately, not wanting to be too loud in case anyone passes by. 
A satisfied grin spreads between his cheeks. He taps your hip once, and you lift up, letting his fingers hook themselves in the hem to slide them off you. He whistles lowly at the sight, his head softly shaking in disbelief. “God damn, angel. This messy for me, baby?”
You nod your head rapidly, soft mewls of an affirmative leave your throat. 
Dr. Miller pulls the rolling chair underneath himself and he sits, lining his face right up against your sex. His hands are fixed on the outsides of your thighs, keeping you open for him. He leans in and breathes deeply. His lip twitches. His eyes are on yours again, dark, pleading. “Tell me to stop,” he mutters. 
“What?” you ask, dizzy at the notion that this man — your doctor — that you just met is mere centimeters away from your face. 
“Tell me to stop,” he nearly demands. 
You shift your hips, bringing yourself closer to his mouth. 
“No.”
“Fuckin’ christ, girl,” he snarls. 
His fingers dig into your thighs, his face diving right into your core. He licks the entirety of you with the flat of his tongue, the slick building between your folds causing his eyes to fly back. 
You’re no better as your hand flies to your mouth, biting into your flesh to stop yourself from moaning out. He can feel your body writhe in his grasp, your hips utterly begging to grind against his scruffy face and hooked nose. 
Your fast-paced breathy whimpers mixed with the sounds of Dr. Miller’s slurping are all what consumes the room — consuming him, consuming you. 
His tongue massages around your entrance before he finally pushes himself in, his nose pushing against your pulsing clit. 
“Oh, Dr. Miller, yes-” you gasp out, particularly loud, at the action. You fully slap your hand over your mouth this time, immediately muffling the uncontrollable lewdness spilling from your mouth. 
Dr. Miller reluctantly pulls his tongue from you and wraps his mouth around your bud, sucking and swirling his tongue against every sweet spot of yours, nearly yanking you to your mind-blowing high. One hand leaves your thigh and makes its way to you. He rubs his middle and ring finger in your arousal before he pushes his fingers inside of you, pumping at the same pace his tongue works your clit, and that’s what does it. 
“Fuckfuckfuck-!” You scream out into your hand, biting into your palm with a sheer force you know your hand will suffer the consequences from later. He groans into your cunt, his vibrations sending further tingles up your spine. Your hips buck into Dr. Miller’s face once more, drawing out the pure ecstasy you never knew existed. 
Dr. Miller’s head finally lifts off you, a blissed look written all over his shiny face. His fingers come to a halt and find their way into his mouth; Dr. Miller is very thorough in making sure he doesn’t waste a drop. 
The action sends you clenching on nothing, and Dr. Miller’s knees damn near buckle at the sight. 
He checks the clock on his watch, and he’s still on track with his timing. His hands mindlessly reach for his pants, but he pauses as he finally realizes what the fuck he’s just done and actually doing right now. 
You notice his hesitancy, and you know it’s probably the more rational decision to just stop right here. To stop this from going any further. To let this appointment come to an end, go home, and search for a new doctor. But when your eyes drag down to the tenting fabric of his scrubs, all rational thought fades from your brain. 
“Dr. Miller,” you whisper, bringing his attention back to you. You let your legs fall impossibly wider, allowing him the space to slot his broad body between your thighs. And just like that, his hunger is back. 
He pulls his pants just enough to free himself, and holy fuck, is he huge. Thick and uncut, a slight lean to the right, and your mouth fucking drools. “Good god, you’re fucking huge,” you laugh nervously, your face hotter than the depths of hell. 
He pumps his length once, a smirk forming at your comment as he makes his way to you. He lets it rest against your drenched folds, advancings his hips softly. His tip catches at your clit, your heart skipping a beat at the sensation. “Yeah?” Dr. Miller asks. “You nervous, angel?”
You look away from him, bashful at the question. “A little,” you admit.
His hand reaches for your face, his thumb and pointer finger grabbing on your chin to make you look at him. “It’ll fit, angel,” he reassures. 
“You sure?”
“We’ll make it fit,” he tells you. 
Withdrawing himself all the way back, he guides his tip to your entrance, settling his fingers to your clit, pulling more wetness from you to make this as easy as possible. 
Steadily, Dr. Miller begins to push in, and right away, the stretch stings, a pained groan falls from your lips. He stops, his hands on your cheeks immediately. 
“You okay?” he grunts, trying his best to stay composed at how tight you are with him barely inside you. 
You open your mouth to answer, but something else — someone else beats you.
“Dr. Miller,” a nurse talks through the door, two knocks preceding their words. “Everything okay in there? Your next appointment just arrived.” 
Calm and collected, like the head of his cock is not inside of you right now, he responds. “Just finishin’ up,” he calls out. “Gimme a minute.”
Both of you remain completely still, waiting to hear the footsteps walk away. After a beat, both of you release a heavy breath neither of you realize were holding. 
Dr. Miller looks at you apologetically, both of you wincing as he pulls out of you. He pulls his pants back up in an awkwardly charged silence, tucking his shirt back in before he picks up your sweats off the ground and helps you back into them. 
Without another word, he starts for the door.
“Dr. Miller…” you trail off, nervous. 
He freezes, turning his body to you, but not meeting your face. He knows if he looks into those eyes, no one will be able to pull him from this room. “I’ve gotta get to my next patient, darlin’,” he tells you. “I’m sorry.”
The door clicks, and you’re all alone, the tears threatening to fall at the whiplash of emotional highs. You hear another soft knock, so you wipe your eyes away, your wishful thinking hoping that you don’t look as wrecked as you feel. 
The nurse who took the intake questions opens the door. “You’re all set,” he says with a smile. 
“Thank you,” you say as you gather your things.
Before you can reach the exit, a woman calls out for you. “Oh, wait up! Did Dr. Miller say when he wants to see you next?” 
“Oh, um…” you pretend to recall. You two were a little too occupied with other things to get to that part of the appointment. 
“No, he didn’t- I don’t think- I, um, I can’t remember,” you stammer, the flow of your beating heart roaring in your ears. 
“That’s no worries at all, honey. You’re good to go, then, I’ll talk with Dr. Miller, and we’ll get scheduling to call you back, okay? Have a wonderful rest of your evening,” she tells you.
As soon as you get home, you plop into your bed, eyes stinging, pussy pulsing and wet, your heart full of every emotion under the sun. 
You’re unsure of what to do or how to feel now, but one thing is for sure.
You need to see him again. 
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“Dr. Miller,” his nurse calls.
“Yeah, Dee, what’s up?”
“Your 4 o’ clock-” Dee repeats your name from the patient chart she’s looking at. “When did you wanna see her again?”
“Oh, uh-”
She speaks once more, her eyes fixed on the paperwork before her. “Her problems sound like a chiro’s issue, don’t they? Why don’t I just send a referral-”
“No,” he cuts off, a little too much power to his voice. He clears his throat. “Sorry- uh, I mean- no as in, I’ll treat her. She mentioned somethin’ else that seems more complex for one of them chiros, no offense to them. I just wanna check one more thing before I can diagnose and create a plan,” he explains. 
“Okay,” she says without rebuttal. “When should we schedule her?”
“As soon as possible.” 
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I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links highlighted in red on my pinned post to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
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punkshort · 3 days
Text
somewhere to run | epilogue
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Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: A glimpse into your life one year after the trial.
Chapter Warnings: fluff, language, alcohol use, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, breeding kink 👀, dry humping
WC: 5.8K
A/N: thank you to all of you who came back week after week to feed into my delusions. I'm so glad there was an audience for this story because it kept me motivated to finish it and stay on track, so to everyone who commented, reblogged or liked... thank you!! ❤️
Series Masterlist
One Year Later
"Sarah!" you yelled up the stairs, craning your neck so you could hear.
"Almost ready!" she yelled back down. You hurried back into the kitchen right when the toaster popped up. Pinching the toast between your fingers with a hiss, you dropped both slices onto a waiting plate and sucked on the pad of your thumb as you turned around to grab the butter from the fridge. You heard her feet thundering down the stairs just as you were finishing up her breakfast. Turning around, you held out the plate to her right as she entered the room.
"Sorry! I overslept," she said, shooting you a grateful smile when she took the plate from your hands.
"No problem, you'll still make it to school on time," you replied, glancing at the clock before pointing to the stove. "Eggs," you told her, and she swiveled around to scoop some onto her plate before sitting down.
"Thank you," she said around a mouthful of food. You took a quick gulp from your coffee before it got too cold, then began pouring the rest of the pot into a thermos. Right on cue, Joel's heavy footsteps were the next to descend the stairs.
"Mornin', girls," he mumbled, fumbling with his tie as he walked. His hair looked disheveled and his eyes looked tired but you still grinned when you handed him the thermos. Giving up on the tie, he sighed with relief before taking a sip and winking at you over the cup.
"Here, let me," you offered, undoing the knotted mess and flattening the fabric back out so you could properly tie it for him.
He turned his head to the side so he could keep drinking his coffee without being in your way and eyed Sarah from across the room.
"Overslept?" he asked her, and she nodded tiredly.
"All set," you told him, flipping his collar back down and smoothing his dress shirt over his broad shoulders.
"Thank you, baby," he said softly before giving you a quick kiss.
"Eggs?" you asked him, turning around to fill your own plate with food. He took another sip of coffee as he flicked his arm out, his sleeve pulling back so he could check his watch.
"No time."
"At least take a granola bar with you," you said, opening a cupboard and handing him a little foil packet. He slid it into his pocket with the promise to eat it when he got to work, then looked over at Sarah again.
"Almost ready?" he asked, and she shoveled the last of her food into her mouth before nodding and standing up. You took the plate from her and rinsed it in the sink while she stuffed a binder into her backpack and zipped it shut.
"You can still drop me off at Jess's house tonight, right, Dad?" she asked, slinging her backpack over her shoulders. He froze as his brain tried to process what she said, working hard to remember if she had mentioned this before.
"What time?"
"Four. Right after school."
"Four..." he muttered to himself, running his fingers through his hair, attempting to tame it. "Shit, babygirl, I don't think I can make it all the way on the other side of town by four, I got somethin' to take care of after work-"
"But Dad! We have a science project due Friday, and tomorrow I have practice-"
"I can do it," you offered from your spot against the counter, still holding your plate of half eaten eggs.
"You sure?" Joel asked, but you could already see the relief in his eyes.
"Yeah, of course. I'm working til three, then my night class starts at five. I can go in between, no problem."
"You got class tonight?" he asked. You and Sarah exchanged bewildered glances before you looked back at him.
"Yeah, Joel, it's Wednesday. I have classes Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Are you feeling okay?" you asked, growing a little worried. Now that you were thinking about it, he seemed more frazzled than usual that morning, and even though your lives were busy, he never forgot your schedules.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a lot on my mind, is all," he said, shaking his head and turning back towards Sarah. "Alright, let's get a move on. Don't wanna be late."
"I'll see you after school!" you called to Sarah as she walked towards the front door and shoved on her shoes.
"Thank you!" she called back before swinging the door open and disappearing outside.
"Thank you so much, baby," he said, cupping your face with both hands for another kiss, this time slowing down and savoring it.
"You're welcome," you said, pulling back with a grin. "Now, go."
He smiled and backed out of the room. "Love you."
"Love you, too," you said, turning around to survey the damage from breakfast. When you first moved in, you were concerned you would get in Joel and Sarah's way, that the little routine they had for so long would be disrupted by your presence, but it was becoming clear to you that wasn't the case at all. Sarah was very mature and independent, which was a huge help to Joel because for years, she would do a lot of the cooking and cleaning to help out, but when you moved in you began to take on some of those chores, allowing Sarah the time to enjoy just being a teenager. And to be perfectly honest, you didn't mind. You enjoyed being part of a loving family who welcomed you into their lives without hesitation. It was something you yearned for your whole life, and now you finally had it.
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Tommy and Maria were extremely supportive of your new schedule. You had been taking night classes for the past six months at the local community college, looking to get your associate's degree and maybe see what kind of job that could get you because even though you loved working at the diner, it was back breaking work and you really didn't think you had it in you to be a lifer. Besides, the odd hours were less than ideal. You wanted to have a work schedule that matched Joel's so you could be home with him at the same time.
One huge thing you would miss about the diner was seeing Joel almost every day for lunch. It was bittersweet to think about one day quitting the job that brought you together, but you knew it would ultimately be worth it. Better hours, better pay, and no nights and weekends were the goal.
Right on schedule, you heard the front door open and Joel's deep drawl greet Maria behind the hostess stand before you saw him out of the corner of your eye make his way up to the counter. When you looked up, you were surprised to see he wasn't alone.
"Tyler!" you said with a grin, and the younger man nodded in greeting to you. About four months ago you were excited to find out Tyler Bates actually did end up calling Joel for a job, and of course Joel kept his word. Apparently, the Philadelphia police force was not a good fit for him.
You couldn't ever imagine why.
Texas was treating him well. Gone was the clean shaven, crew cut man you once met. Now that the south wrapped its arms around him, his skin was sunkissed, his hair a little wavy, and he even had a bit of stubble across his jaw.
"What's the occasion?" you asked as they took their seats.
Joel clapped Tyler on the back before looking up at you. "One of my guy's retirin' soon so I offered this one a promotion," Joel replied.
"Oh, that's wonderful! Congratulations!" you gushed, and you thought you saw his cheeks turn a little pink.
"Thank you, ma'am."
"I told you, you don't have to call me that," you scolded playfully. "Especially during our double date this Saturday. You're still coming, right?"
"As long as this Hailey still wants to meet me," he replied, sounding a little nervous.
"Oh, she definitely still wants to meet you," you teased, and Joel chuckled next to him.
"She's been textin' her every night askin' what she should wear and-"
"Joel!" you snapped, cutting him off with a warning look, but he just grinned.
"What? It's true!" he laughed.
"You're gonna embarrass her!" you exclaimed, then turned to Tyler. "Ignore everything he just said in the past thirty seconds."
"Yes, ma'am," he said with a little smile, then dropped his focus to the menu.
You shook your head at Joel, trying to come off as mad, but you knew you were failing by the look in his eye and the twitch at the corner of his mouth.
"You're in trouble," you muttered lowly, and a look of excitement flashed across his face.
"Mm, I hope so."
Your eyes widened with embarrassment but fortunately, Tyler was a gentleman and pretended not to hear. You made an aggravated face at him before turning your head and quickly changing your tune.
"What can I get for you, Tyler?" you asked sweetly.
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Hailey and Tyler hit it off instantly. You never set anyone up before, but they were both so sweet, you had a feeling they would make a good match. Hailey was the only girl in town who seemed to be on your side. Although most people moved on to the next exciting piece of gossip, your drama long forgotten by now, you didn't forget how she never treated you any differently, even though you were sure it would have been easy for her to do. She even left book club after she and the rest of the town learned the gritty details of your case. You assured her that Nikki never could have known the real reason behind your divorce, that you hid those details well for most of your life, but Hailey still wanted nothing to do with her or the group of women who ostracized you. It didn't end up mattering much in the end. A few short months after your trial, right around the time you moved in with Joel, Nikki found a job out of state and moved.
Instead of book club, the two of you started your own monthly club. Sometimes that consisted of a book you both wanted to read, other times it was going to dinner and the movies. It was nice to have a standing date with her and catch up. And when she mentioned last month how lonely she had been and how envious she was of your and Joel's relationship, you immediately thought of Tyler.
Tyler: the man who, aside from Joel, changed everything for you. Who stood up for what was right, even at great personal risk, and traveled all the way to Texas to apologize to you in person for not doing more. He was a good man, and he deserved to have someone, too.
"We're gonna go play darts, you guys want in?" Hailey asked, her eyes shiny and her cheeks slightly pink from the alcohol. You had picked Hank's instead of a nice restaurant, figuring it would help loosen both of them up, and you were right.
"You go ahead, we'll join you in a bit," you said, shooting her a discreet wink when Tyler wasn't looking.
"I don't think they'd even notice if we left," Joel murmured before taking a sip of his beer.
"No, probably not," you said, watching them from across the room. Tyler was standing behind Hailey, trying to show her how to properly take aim at the target.
Joel's phone buzzed in his pocket and he slid it out, subtly angling the screen away from you.
"Is it Sarah?" you asked when you noticed the look on his face. Michelle had done what she said she would and reached back out to Sarah, and while both of their schedules were busy, they occasionally found the time to meet up. This weekend was the first time Sarah stayed overnight in Austin with her mom, and even though Joel didn't say anything, you could tell he was worried.
"No, it's just Tommy," he said, putting his phone face down on table and looking back at you.
"Everything okay?" you asked slowly, picking up on some kind of nervous energy from him.
"Yeah, everythin's great," he replied with a grin, then leaned in to quickly try to change the subject. "You really think they won't notice if we leave? Can't remember the last time we had the house to ourselves."
Your breath caught in your throat when you saw his gaze darken. "I think it might be a little rude if we don't say something-"
Joel stood up immediately and held out his hand to you. "Then let's say somethin'."
You stared at his hand before looking back up at him. "Are you serious?" you said with a little laugh, but he just kept looking at you expectantly. "Alright, fine," you relented, taking his hand and allowing him to help you stand. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and led you through the bar, nodding briefly at Hank before reaching the dart board.
"You guys good if we head out?" Joel asked, barely pulling their attention away from each other. Tyler looked at Hailey, giving her the opportunity to respond just in case she was uncomfortable, but she shook her head.
"Go! We've got a competition heating up here, and I'm determined to win," she said, smirking up at Tyler.
"Alright, have fun," you said over the music playing from the jukebox. Hailey caught your eye and gave you a look, and when Tyler went up to the board to retrieve the darts, you held up your thumb and pinky to the side of your head and mouthed call me before Joel turned you away.
"What's with the rush?" you asked when you stepped outside and the fresh air hit your lungs.
"No rush. Just wanna be alone with my girl, is that a crime?"
"I don't know, you tell me, sheriff," you teased, and he chuckled under his breath before opening his truck door for you. And even though he claimed there was no rush, he sure did seem to hurry around the front of his truck.
You studied the side of his face as he drove, your brows furrowed a bit at the way his eyes shifted nervously from the road to the time on the dash. His fingers anxiously tapped on the steering wheel at every red light and you tried to ignore it, but after the third red light and hearing him mutter curses under his breath, you couldn't take it any more.
"What's gotten into you? You're acting weird," you said.
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are! You've been weird all week, actually. Is it because of Sarah? Don't be worried, I'm sure she's fine. It's good for her to spend some time with Michelle."
"I'm not worried 'bout Sarah," he said, and you pursed your lips but let it go.
When you pulled into the driveway, you caught the way Joel looked at the time and the front door before quickly turning the engine off and hopping out of the truck. He rounded the car and opened the door for you, but when you began to walk towards the mailbox, he stopped you.
"Where you goin'?"
"I'm getting the mail. I'm expecting some stuff from school-"
"We can get it tomorrow, let's go inside," he said, wrapping his fingers around your shoulders and you frowned.
"Why can't I -" you paused when a truck lumbered past the house, and even in the dark, you recognized it. "Is that Tommy?" you asked, but before you could get a good look, Joel forcibly turned you towards the house.
"No, I don't think so."
"What-"
"Baby, c'mon, please let's go inside," he begged, and by now you knew he was definitely up to something. You sighed and let him lead you up the porch steps, deciding not to make it any more difficult on him.
When he opened the front door you finally saw why he was so anxious to get inside. You were greeted with the soft glow of candlelight, and as you stepped inside, utterly confused, you noticed the red rose petals scattered over the floor. You racked your brain, trying to remember if you forgot a special occasion, but you were coming up empty.
"W-what is all this?" you finally managed to ask softly as you slowly entered the living room, noticing for the first time the bottle of champagne and two glasses placed on the coffee table next to a beautiful bouquet of roses already in a vase. Joel was suspiciously silent behind you as you continued to take in the scene. Was he really that excited to have the house to yourselves?
You turned around to ask him but the words got stuck in your throat when you saw him kneeling behind you, holding out a ring with trembling fingers.
Your hands flew up to your mouth with a gasp and your heart began to pound wildly in your chest, completely taken aback. Oh my god, this is it.
Joel took a deep breath. "Since the moment we met-"
"Yes!" you nearly shouted through your hands, making the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile.
"I got a whole speech planned," he said with a nervous laugh, but you shook your head and dropped to your knees with him.
"I don't care," you breathed, pulling his face against yours for a searing kiss.
He managed to break away for a moment, his fingers still pinching the ring. "Didn't wanna ask in front of people, I know what you said 'bout-"
You cut him off with another kiss, not wanting to think about your previous marriage in that moment.
"You could ask me in the middle of the grocery store with a twist tie and I would say yes," you told him, pushing your forehead against his. He gripped the side of your head, the ring getting tangled in your hair as he pressed his lips feverishly against yours again.
"I love you so much," he mumbled in between kisses.
Tears were beginning to form now that the shock was wearing off, but you tried to hold them back. "I love you, too," you whispered, then gripped his collar to pull him down. His hand cradled the back of your head as you eased yourself onto the floor, your lips refusing to leave his. Your fingers hurriedly went to the buttons of his shirt when he remembered the ring.
"Wait," he said, pulling back a bit, panting for air. He held it up and you eagerly held out your hand, both of you shaking a little as he slid the ring around your finger.
"Oh, I love it," you gasped, admiring the unique pattern of little diamonds surrounding a larger one in the center of a gold band.
"Yeah?" he asked with a smile, his eyes going soft. "Couldn't make up my mind. Finally had it custom made, took forever but it came in the other day-"
"You had it custom made?" you repeated in disbelief, and he nodded.
"Couldn't wait to ask you. It's why I've been so distracted all week."
"I love you," you said again, pulling on his shirt to close the gap between you. "God, I love you so much," you mumbled as your fingers resumed their work on his buttons while your lips drifted down his jaw, his stubble burning your sensitive skin in the best way.
"Love you too," he murmured, his mouth finding a home against your neck as you finished unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it over his shoulders and down his arms. "I've loved you for so fuckin' long. Just wanna make you happy, give you the life you deserve," he continued, his teeth grazing against your earlobe.
"You do make me happy," you moaned as you struggled to pull off your jeans.
"Let's go upstairs," he said, pushing himself up to hover above you, his chest heaving.
You shook your head and lifted your hips, bumping clumsily against him as you shimmied your pants down. "Here," you told him, watching his eyes travel down your now half naked body.
"On the floor?" he questioned, but sat back on his heels to work on his belt. You nodded, your eyes dark with lust as you stared at his bare chest, only looking away to yank your shirt over your head. He chuckled as he kicked his pants off and you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist and tugged him back down to you. "Okay, baby. Whatever you want," he said in your ear, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
"Just want you," you whined, and your fingers came up to get tangled in his curls. He slipped his hand between your bodies and notched himself at your center.
"You got me, baby," he whispered, nibbling at your chin as he pressed forward, slowly stretching you open and making your jaw drop. "Got me forever. Always did," he added, his eyebrows pinching together the further he buried himself inside you.
"Oh fuck, Joel," you gasped, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he bottomed out.
"Yeah? That feel good? Needed me so bad you had to have me right here, huh?" he growled in your ear. Your thighs tensed around his waist as you adjusted around him.
"Yes," you replied softly, gasping a little when you felt him pulse inside. "Want you everywhere. Can't get enough - god, you feel so good. Always feel so good," you rambled, knowing how much he loved it when you talked to him during sex. At first, you were embarrassed. You overthought what you should say, what sounded sexy, but you quickly realized it didn't matter. He loved it all.
He dragged his hips slowly, deliberately, building you up just so he could tear you apart. Savoring the sweet little moans that slipped past your lips as your walls squeezed around his cock and he was certain he would never tire of this.
"You're so beautiful," he said before crashing his mouth against yours messily. "Can't believe I get to spend my life with you," he added, his hand gripping your hip and pulling you against him, matching his thrusts.
You dropped your hands from his hair and pressed them against his chest, giving him a gentle shove. "Roll us over," you commanded, and he smirked.
"Yes, ma'am."
In the blink of an eye he ducked and rolled, pulling your hips with him and making you giggle when you found yourself straddling him.
"This is gonna fuck up my back," he warned you, shifting his shoulders as he tried to get comfortable on the floor.
"I'll give you a massage if it does," you promised, and his eyes lit up. He was about to say something smart when you began to roll your hips and suddenly, the words escaped him.
"Oh fuck, baby, that's it," he groaned, his hands lightly guiding you, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass. "Yeah, just like that, yeah... now bounce a little for me."
You did as he asked, your hands pressed flat against his chest as you bounced up and down, his eyes transfixed on the way your body glowed in the candlelight.
"So deep," you moaned, your head tipping back as your eyes closed, lost in the moment. "So good. You're so good to me, Joel. Ah!" you cried out as he began lifting his hips, thrusting up into you. He could feel the cool metal from your ring pressing into his chest and it only made him fuck up into you harder.
He quickly sat up, his arms circling around your waist and holding you tightly in his lap as he snapped his hips, little grunts and growls getting lost in each other's mouths, your tongues dancing together, desperately trying to get as close as possible.
"C'mon, c'mon," he muttered once you broke away, gasping for air. "Look at you. Gettin' all worked up. Couldn't even make it to bed, hm? Needed me to fuck you that bad, ain't that right?"
"Uh huh," you whined, your head falling forward, resting on his shoulder as you focused on his voice.
"That's alright, I'll give you anythin' you want. I'll take good care of you, baby. I'll give this perfect pussy anythin' she wants, too."
"Joel, I'm close," you whimpered, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your teeth pinching your bottom lip. Your eyes flew open when he hit that perfect spot and you gasped. "Right there! Please... please don't stop, don't stop," you gasped as you felt your cheeks begin to flush with heat.
"There? Yeah?" he panted, somehow managing to pound up into you with incredible force while sitting on his lap. You tried to respond but you couldn't. Your vision was going spotty and the heat pooling at the bottom of your belly was beginning to ignite. He seemed to understand because he kept up the pace, hitting that spot over and over while alternating between muttering filth and praise in your ear.
Takin' it so good. Such a good girl. Feel how hard you make me? I love you so much.
And maybe he got a little carried away, lost in chasing his own pleasure, not really thinking about what he was saying until...
"Can't wait to put a baby in you."
Your teeth clamped down on his neck, desperately trying to ground yourself as your orgasm hit you, forcing all the air from your lungs, his name barely a whisper on your lips.
He didn't even realize he said it out loud. He was too far gone, too close to his own release to think about anything else.
"I'm gonna come, baby, I'm g-gonna- fuck!" he groaned loudly, his stomach tensing and relaxing with each surge of his spend coating your walls until his body went lax, his shoulders drooping a bit and his arms loosening their grip around you.
"That was worth the backache," he finally mumbled, and you giggled from your place on his neck.
You kept expecting him to say something about what he said, but by the time you had untangled yourselves - you, gathering all your clothes and him, blowing out the candles - it didn't seem like he was going to mention it, so you let it go. And by the time you got upstairs, letting him wrap you up in his arms with your left hand splayed out across his bare chest, you had nearly forgotten all about it.
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It must have been later than you usually slept. The sun was brighter than usual, streaming in through the windows and bathing you both in its glow. You were laying on your stomach, one leg hitched up towards your chest. At some point, Joel must have sought you out because his body was pressed flat against your back, his arm even resting on top of yours, fingertips grazing your ring as he slept.
Your ring.
Your eyes fluttered open so you could see it. Not wanting to disturb him, you tried to twitch your finger a bit so the stones would reflect in the light.
His nose nudged your shoulder blade, his face buried in your upper back, and you smiled. He was so close and so warm it made you never want to get up.
Then you felt his cock twitch against your leg and you bit your lip. It sounded like he was still asleep, his breathing hadn't changed, but his body was still reacting to you anyway, and the thought made you desperate for him again.
You tipped your hips back ever so slightly, just to see how deep of a sleep he was in. When he didn't respond, you wiggled your body a little more, flexing and stretching your limbs underneath him. His breath fanned over your shoulder, your hair fluttering a bit with each exhale. The ache between your legs was growing, so you ground your ass against him a little harder and you finally sensed a change in his breathing: he was waking up.
His fingers laced together with yours, your ring pressing into the palm of his hand and making him smile against your skin.
"Mornin', fiancée," he murmured sleepily. You hummed in response as you continued to lightly grind up against him, feeling him harden against the curve of your ass. "What're you doin', baby?" he whispered, his fingers tightening around yours.
"Nothing," you replied innocently, still rolling your hips against him.
"Don't feel like nothin'," he grunted against the back of your neck.
"What does it feel like?"
"Feels like you need me to take care of you again," he said, his voice still gravelly with sleep as he began to roll his hips in rhythm with yours. A soft moan slipped past your lips, the throbbing between your legs intensifying at the thought of waking up like this every day for the rest of your lives.
Joel's hand slid between your legs, his fingers brushing against your folds. He inhaled sharply and buried his face further into your back as he gently pet at your soaking heat, purposely taking his time and driving you wild. "Yeah, she needs me again, huh?" he said, his voice muffled. "Needs me to stretch her open 'n fill her up, ain't that right?"
"Yes," you whimpered, pushing your hips back into him, begging for it. And when you felt him press at against your opening, his words from last night drifted back into your brain: Can't wait to put a baby in you.
Your mouth fell open and your eyes squeezed shut as he began to slowly push inside and you wondered how you went so long without him. How many years you wasted without knowing his touch. He was so perfect and sweet and kind and loving and now, he was all yours. Forever.
"Did you mean it?" you found yourself asking after he began to rock his hips into you from behind, slowly, making sure you felt every inch of him.
"Mean what?" he mumbled, his voice sounding strained as you stretched and clutched around him.
"Did you really want to put a baby in me?" you clarified, suddenly feeling nervous. His hips stalled and his eyes shot open and the pause he took before replying made your heart flutter anxiously in your chest.
"Do you want that?" he asked, his hand holding your hip in place, effectively stopping you from grinding against him.
"Maybe?" you replied, your voice higher than usual and you were relieved you couldn't see his face because you weren't sure your nerves could take it.
He nibbled lovingly at your ear, his teeth dragging down your throat as he slowly began to move again.
"Then maybe I did mean it."
You breathed a small sigh of relief and you pushed your ass against him, matching his pace. "Yeah?" you said, wanting to hear more. Needing to hear more.
"Mhm," he mumbled, his lips gliding over your shoulder. "You'd make a great mom. And fuck, you'd be so pretty with my baby in you."
"Mm," your cheeks flared with heat at the fantasy, and the way his thrusts were coming a little faster made you think it turned him on, too. "Imagine the looks I'd get," you whispered, your fingers clutching around the sheets as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. His hand wrapped around your knee and pulled your leg up higher. "Walking around - ahh - walking around town, growing your baby in my belly. Letting everyone see how good you take care of me."
He groaned, his hips snapping faster against your ass, unable to hold back.
"You like that? You want everyone to see how good I fuck you? If you weren't on the pill, I'd do it right fuckin' now," he growled in your ear, and you gasped.
"Oh fuck, Joel, I'm close," you whimpered, your hands desperately reaching out for any part of him to hold. He noticed and he removed his hand from your knee so he could lace your fingers together again. He was fucking everywhere. Your whole body was covered by his, pinning you into the bed. His breath was warming your neck, his cock filling you up, reaching the furthest depths of you and you never felt more alive than when your orgasm finally took hold.
"Yeah, that's it," he cooed as you spasmed and whimpered beneath him. "Good girl. Fuck, yes, that's right," he panted, chasing his own high as you struggled to remain present. "So pretty when you come, s-so pretty, my pretty girl, love you so fuckin' much," he groaned, then his body stilled as he pumped you full once again, whispering your name weakly as he finished.
"Fuck me, baby," he moaned after he caught his breath. He lifted himself off you, your skin sticking together briefly before he slid out with a hiss. He collapsed on his back next to you, pulling on your shoulder so you flipped over and tucked you into his side. He tilted your chin up so he could slot his lips against yours, massaging them tenderly, lovingly, with a deep, contented sigh.
"You make me so happy," you told him, his fingers still pinching your chin. He grinned and kissed you again.
"I'm gonna spend my life givin' you whatever you want," he whispered against your lips.
Your hand drifted up to the back of his neck, your fingers tugging gently at the ends of his thick curls. His tongue slipped past your lips, slowly swirling around yours with a moan.
Just as you were starting to think you wouldn't leave the bed for the entire day, you heard two car doors slamming shut in the driveway and you both opened your eyes.
"Sarah's home," he said, pecking one more kiss against your lips before pushing himself up with a groan.
"Oh my god, does she know?" you asked, feeling bad you hadn't asked yet. He pulled on a pair of boxers and his discarded jeans as he looked at you admiring your ring.
"'Course she knows, talked to her 'bout it weeks ago. She's so happy, could hardly stop pesterin' me 'bout it," he said with a chuckle, then pulled a T-shirt over his head just as you heard the front door open. He tossed you your jeans as he headed for the door. "Better hurry up or else she's gonna come bargin' in here," he warned, then disappeared down the stairs.
You flung the covers off and quickly dressed, checking your hair in the mirror and glancing down at your ring once more before following Joel downstairs, excited to start the next chapter of your life with your new family.
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Mutual | Lucien Flores x f!Reader
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summary: you and lucien have both been invited to this dinner with explicit instructions: play nice. but it's kind of hard when you can't stand each other. even harder when the meaning begins to blur with his hands on you.
pairing: lucien flores x f!reader
ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. smoking, drinking. idk, hate fucking essentially. misuse of a champagne bottle, edging?, sexual tension, f!masturbation, unprotected p in v (you know what to do, and it's not this), oral (f!receiving). reader wears a dress and is implied to be shorter than lucien, but is otherwise undescribed.
wc: 4.8k
an: i succumbed.
The only thing you and Lucien Flores have in common is the need for a cigarette after dinner. 
Nothing else.
You stand on opposite sides of the patio outside the open glass doors which lead back into Anna and Alex’s house, and you know that Anna, at the very least, will be watching you. Making sure you play nice.
Something you’d vowed to do when she’d called to invite you to this dinner party. Lucien will be there, she’d said, it’d be great for me, for us, if you two just tried to get along. 
So far, you’ve succeeded. You’d listened politely to his stories at the table, hadn't even rolled your eyes when he laughed and joked and flirted with your fellow guests. You’d drunk your wine and stayed quiet through it all, offering your own contributions to the equal delight of the friends who'd gathered. You’d been surprised when Lucien had smiled along with them, even going so far as to chuckle at your story about the dog next door.
And now, outside, the rule still stands. You eye each other as you smoke, finding yourself amazed again by the way he doesn’t speak. Not a snide thing to say, no quip to make, just him watching you. Eyes flitting from your legs, to your hips, to your chest, to your face. And you’d tell him to quit it if you weren’t doing the same thing. If you weren’t enjoying the way his silk shirt hangs off his broad shoulders, the way his curls flop over his forehead, the way his chains catch the light, the way his stupid, pretty eyes glitter across from you. You hate yourself for it, want to crack some nasty sentiment across the stone, but you don’t. 
You’re on your best behaviour, after all.
Something which Lucien has clearly forgotten as he pushes himself off from the wall he’s leaned against, stepping closer, closer to you by the bush with the red flowers. You brace yourself for whatever it is he’s about to say, for whatever smoke he’s about to blow in your face, gearing up for the taunt you’ll throw back. 
He stops before you, barely an arms length away. You tense, waiting.
He holds out the bottle of champagne he’d swiped from the table on his way out. You blink at him.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m playing nice.’
You stare at him, sceptical. This is not Lucien. This is not something you’re used to.
But maybe he’s trying, too. 
You take the bottle from him, and he lets it go easily. You watch him as you bring it to your lips, tipping it up until the bright fizz of the bubbles meets your tongue. He watches your mouth, pink slip of his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip as he drops the butt of his finished cigarette to the floor, not looking where it lands. You swallow, take another gulp for good measure, and hand it back to him. His fingers graze yours as you do. 
You freeze at the jolt of electricity his touch brings, hand remaining outstretched as he brings the bottle back to his side. You watch, aloof, as he plucks your cigarette from your fingers and flicks it into the darkness before slotting your hands together, mind swirling as he pulls you closer.
‘Come on. Want to show you something.’ 
Maybe it’s the wine, but you can’t find the words to protest as he tugs you away to a deeper part of the garden. 
Lucien turns you to face him at the furthest wall he can find, and you finally find your words as your back hits the concrete.
‘What did you want to show me?’
You glance around behind him at the flowers that burst from the ground, bright even in the darkening half light. The water feature Alex had installed last year trickles musically somewhere to your left, though you can't see it.
His answering grin is dirty, something fluttering in your tummy as you grind your teeth, nostrils flaring. You do not have the patience for this man, or the butterflies churning in your stomach.
‘Lucien.’
His hands find your waist and the curve of your ass in a flurry of movement, his grip strong, the bottle cold through the material of your dress. The air leaves your lungs. He hums as he draws himself close to your lips.
‘How beautiful you look tonight.’
You snort at him, disbelieving. He can’t be fucking serious.
‘Lucien, what the fuck -’
He cuts you off quickly, dipping to fit his mouth to yours in a searing kiss, hand moving from your ass to your jaw as he licks into your mouth. Your blood roars in your ears as your own hands scrabble to find purchase on his chest, slipping against the silk. You mean to push him away, but somehow you pull him closer, your body doing the opposite of what it’s told as you open your mouth further to him, groaning softly. He tastes like champagne and cigarettes, and you grip his neck to bring him further in, your other hand smoothing over his bunched shoulder, his strong bicep, down to his waist, fisting his shirt. He chuckles against your lips, and sharp anger surges in your gut. Shit. This is Lucien.
You use the hand at his middle to push him roughly away from you.
‘Get the fuck off me.’
He smirks, one hand still on your hip as he takes a swig from the bottle of champagne. You watch him, breathing heavily, stare as his lips close around the mouth of the bottle, and you're betrayed by what you’ve only pictured in your most secret moments. Your eyelids flutter, fingers twitch for him, cunt clenches around something that isn't there. He comes towards you again, and this time you close the gap, leaning forward to crash your mouth against his. You lick at the seam of his lips but he keeps them obstinately shut, and with irritation flashing through you, you drag your nails hard down his forearm in retaliation. He grips the nape of your neck, pulling your head back, and taking advantage of your open lips, spills the champagne off his tongue and onto yours. It's warm, still sparkling. Tastes like him. You swallow it down greedily, reminding yourself that you should be disgusted, certainly shouldn’t be pulling him in to kiss him again, shouldn’t moan so loud when he grinds his hips against yours as he rumbles how you drive him fucking insane against your neck. Shouldn’t be so wet, pinned up against this wall by a man you have long held such disdain for, shouldn’t grind back against him, shouldn’t be panting into his mouth like some kind of dog, shouldn't be forgetting where you are, who you’re with -
This time, you’re more forceful. Lucien stumbles back with hooded eyes and shining, swollen lips, his own breathing coming fast and deep. You stare back at him, still stunned, and without meaning to, your eyes drop down to his crotch, finding the fabric there tight with his arousal. He’s big, must be with the way his zipper is straining. Your mouth runs dry, your stomach swoops. Fuck.
You watch with as much disgust as you can manage as he palms himself roughly to relieve some of the ache, your own hands itching to do the same.
‘So pretty, baby,’ he teases, stepping forwards, head falling towards yours again. Why won’t he stay away? ‘So pretty, wanting me like this -’
‘Stop,’ you hiss. It’s unconvincing even to your ears, and he smirks like he knows. He knows. ‘I don’t - I don’t want you like this -’
He presses his forehead to yours, not touching you this time, instead letting his nose trace your cheekbone, your jaw, down to your neck.
‘You don’t want me like this?’ He purrs. You manage to shake your head. You can feel his smile as he laves a hungry, open-mouthed kiss to your pulse point, and you whimper, hot all over, so wet, so needy for him. He chuckles again. ‘No,’ he confirms. ‘Then maybe… like this.’
He sinks to his knees in front of you, curls mussed, lips parted, eyes blown. He stares up at you, reverent, taunting, as he skates his broad palms over the tops of your thighs, stroking the skin, murmuring how soft you are. Oh, and you are so fucking angry. So fucking angry as he grips and soothes your flesh, as he squeezes and kneads your ass, as you hold onto his strong shoulders and breathe his name. Even more pissed when he doesn’t have some kind of asshole comment to make, furious as he leans into you and presses kisses to where his hands have been, mouthing at your skin, leaving it wet with his spit, with champagne, so fucking mad as he sips from the bottle again and spills the liquid from his mouth onto your thighs, as he kneels back to watch it trickle over your knees, down your shins, to your feet, to drip onto the floor. You are on fire.
‘See? Beautiful.’ He murmurs. And oh, what you’d do. What you’d do to him. You’d pull at his hair and scratch at his chest and bite into his neck and you’d make him suffer, make him ache, make him feel the same heat you’re feeling. You just can’t seem to move.
Can’t seem to move as he brings his mouth closer to your cunt, splitting the folds of your wrap dress further, pushing his hands up to your hips, holding you still as he takes in your lace panties, the only thing covering you from him. He looks up to you again, burning with desire. Your cunt pulses painfully, and you hiss his name.
He smiles, cruelly.
‘Relax, sweetheart,’ he murmurs, ‘We’re playing nice, remember?’
Your retort dies in your throat as he presses his face to your clothed cunt and breathes in deeply. He moans loudly, and you whimper in response, hands flying to his hair at the feeling of his hot breath on you, tugging as he mouths at your pussy through the material. You feel his tongue, warm and strong, drag over the lace covering your clit and you groan, going slack against the wall. He nudges the swollen nub with his nose, his free hand coming between your legs to touch you.
‘So wet,’ he breathes, ‘That what I’m doing to you?’
You shake your head no even though he can’t see you, still playing with your pussy through your underwear. A plea bubbles up your throat, and you swallow it down. You will not beg Lucien Flores to touch you. You don’t even know how you got here in the first place.
But that’s forgotten as he moves again, kissing your clit through the fabric as he brings his other hand, still holding the bottle, between your legs. You hiss as he presses the lip of it to your hole, all protests forgotten as he grinds it against you, the pressure easing a small amount of the ache you feel.
You forget that it’s wrong as he uses it to push your panties to the side. Forget as he runs the cold glass through your wetness, almost do beg him to touch you, to lick you, to do something before he settles it against your slit, right where you think you might need it most.
‘Still don’t want me?’ he breathes against your skin.
A shallow breath escapes you.
‘Fuck you.’ You whisper, no conviction behind your words. He rests his forehead against your hip, and begins to press, begins to relieve some of that ache, that want -
‘Luce?’ Anna calls out from the direction of the house. You freeze, fist tightening around his curls, but Lucien is unphased, working the mouth of the bottle past the tight opening of your pussy. You gasp brokenly at the cool feel of it, fingers constricting even further. Lucien moans beneath you, moving to nose at the crease between your thigh and your cunt, pushing the neck of the bottle further in. You moan loudly, knees giving a little, and he clutches your hip tighter to keep you from falling.
‘Luce?’ Anna calls again, a little closer this time. You groan his name in response, torn between wanting more and wanting this to end before disaster.
The next Lucien? comes even closer, and you use your grip on his hair to pull his face away from you, tipping his head back so that he meets your eye.
‘Stop.’ You bite out. He grins and gives one more pump of the neck of the bottle. You whimper, head falling back to the concrete behind you as he removes it completely, rising to his feet with a groan. You watch, bleary eyed, leaking, chest heaving, as he dusts off his pants and adjusts himself, his eyes never leaving yours. He steps back and away, eyes raking over your body as he raises the bottle to his mouth, licking around the neck before taking a deep drink and disappearing back up the path.
He’s sick. You hate him.
You return to the house on shaky legs through the backdoor, hoping to make it to the bathroom, only to be intercepted by Alex. He’s scraping leftover food into the bin, and smiles as you enter before double taking at your appearance. You must look wrecked.
‘Are you alright?’ He asks, brow creasing with concern.
You hum, clearing your throat before answering.
‘Yeah, I’m fine.’
Alex raises an eyebrow at you.
‘Did he say something to you?’ he asks.
‘Did he - what?’
‘Lucien. Did he upset you?’
You blink at him. Right. Play nice.
‘I - no. He didn’t. He was actually quite pleasant.’
Alex stares at you.
‘Pleasant?’
‘Yeah.’
You hold his gaze for a little longer, feel a guilty little heat crawl its way through your belly. 
You’re warm, so unbearably warm.
‘Is it alright if I go and lay down upstairs for a bit?’ You ask. ‘I feel kind of funny.’
Alex frowns, placing the plate he was holding on the counter.
‘Sure,’ he says, ‘Do you need anything?’
You smile weakly, shaking your head.
‘No,’ you reassure him, ‘That’s okay, thank you. I just need a moment.’
The guest room on the top floor is cool, and the curtains are open. Warm, orange light floods in from the street outside, and you settle yourself on the middle of the bed, ready to get this over with. There’s no way you can go back downstairs with this need, this coil wound so tight in your belly. You swoop your palms over your body, nipples tightening beneath your dress, feeling the swirl, the drip of yourself between your legs. You grind the heel of your palm against your mound and moan softly, rucking your dress up to your hips so you can slip your fingers beneath the lace.
Fuck, you are so wet. So goddamn turned on by that stupid man that you may as well throw your underwear away. You sweep a finger over your clit, hips twitching at the contact, eyes falling shut as you dip the digit to your entrance to collect your arousal, working the nub in tight circles. 
Your legs fall slack as you build yourself up, moans falling from your mouth in quick succession as you imagine what it would have been like to have him take you there, against the wall. What it would have been like to be fucked with the bottle, to have his tongue really on you, mimicking your movements now, to fall apart against his mouth, see him pull away with your slick covering his face. You rock your hips against your hand, quickening your movements, fingers dipping in and out of your slit between working your clit as the coil tightens and tightens, as the hot, heavy feeling grows and grows, as sweat beads at your temples and the valley between your breasts, as you try not to moan his name -
Like you’ve summoned him, Lucien clears his throat in the doorway. 
You snap your legs shut, heart hammering in your chest, heat blooming through your cheeks.
‘You fucking - asshole -’ you seethe, and he laughs, eyes roving over your sweaty body. ‘Get out.’
‘Wanted to check you were alright.’
You gape at him.
‘Fucking bullshit, Lucien,’ you grit, snatching your hand out of your soaked cunt. You bundle it in the silk of your dress as you try to cover yourself, but his eyes follow, tracing the glint of your slick in the dim light. 
‘Seems like you’re okay, though,’ he continues, slouching against the doorframe. ‘Just look like you could do with some help.’
You choke on a laugh, frozen, glaring at him from the bed. He bites his lip.
‘You’re fucking insane.’
‘Insane enough to fuck you.’
You inhale sharply, trying to ignore the flash of arousal that shoots through you, clenching your jaw.
‘You are not going to fuck me.’
Lucien steps away from the doorframe, moving into the room, letting the door fall shut behind him. Without looking, he reaches out with one hand and twists the lock with a click. 
He comes towards you slowly, eyes hungry. Your heart is in your mouth as you watch him, adrenaline kicking in so hard even you’re not sure what you want. Aren’t sure whether you can admit what you want. 
He reaches the end of the bed before dropping a knee onto the mattress, reaching out to grab an ankle, pulling your leg flat. You burn at the feel of him holding you, preventing you from moving, from hiding.
‘Then stop me.’
You don’t. You can’t as he crawls his way up your body, as he touches every inch of skin he can so gently, so delicately. Fresh slick pools out of you at the feeling, at the sight - 
His stupid puppy dog eyes and floppy curls and broad shoulders beneath his silk shirt, silk shirt that looks like sin as it drapes over him, moves with him like water, and his chains, his chains, how they’d look swinging over you as he buries himself inside you, raw and hungry and -
You can’t stop the moan that slips from your lips as his hand cups your cunt, as his mouth finds your neck. Body quickly liquid, molten beneath his touch, legs falling open.
‘Please -’ it slips from your mouth before you can stop it, but it feels good, finally, to have him give you what you need.
‘Good girl,’ he says, ‘Playing so nice.’
He slips his hand beneath the lace of your panties, trailing two fingers through your arousal, mirroring your moan as he does. He circles your clit, dragging you back to where you were, drinking down your noises with his mouth close enough to swallow your breath, but not close enough to kiss. You stare up at him, eyes wide, mouth open, a line forming between your brows. You gasp, so pretty, and he hums, slowing his movements to an agonising pace before slipping them from your heat entirely. You whine at the loss, huffing against the mattress, pouting at him pathetically as he smiles down at you.
‘Let’s get these off.’
He kneels back to pull your underwear away from you, and you wriggle at the cool air that comes into contact with your cunt. You watch, breathless, as he bundles them up and slips them into his back pocket, irritated, but not irritated enough to demand them back. They were expensive.
He drinks in the sight of your bare pussy with ravenous eyes, resting his cheek against the flesh of your thigh. The scruff of his beard tickles and scratches, the feel of it so Lucien, but you can't find it within yourself to care. He brings a single finger up to trace through your folds, and you whine desperately, embarrassingly at the sensation.
‘Pretty enough to make a grown man cry, baby,’ he hums, nuzzling your thigh as he blinks up at you with burning eyes. ‘You ever made a man cry before?’
‘Yeah,’ you breathe, ‘Wanna see if I can make you cry, too?’
He grins, a dirty little thing, before closing his teeth over the soft skin at your hip. You moan again, and he leans in closer, licking a long, hot, wet stripe from your hole to your clit. You shudder, a broken sound escaping your mouth. God, what is wrong with you?
‘So sweet,’ he murmurs, ‘You always this wet when someone teases you?’
You arch your back against him, head turning in the sheets.
‘No,’ you groan, ‘Get this wet when I’m about to make myself come.’
He huffs a laugh against you before driving his tongue against your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth. He is hot and wet against you, so strong and soft like velvet as he tastes you, holds your thighs apart with his strong hands, fingers pressing in so hard you’re sure they’ll bruise. You writhe beneath him, hands flying to his hair, grinding up into his face. He licks and licks, devouring you, moving his head from side to side, gripping your hips to keep you moving against him as he quickly builds you again back to your high, sliding two fingers inside easily, curling them up into the spot deep inside you. 
You can’t tear your eyes away from him, the strong curves of his body, the sweat on his forehead, the way his eyelids flutter at your noises, those deep brown eyes watching you with something carnal, something possessive in them.
You whine and moan above him, keening as he reaches his other hand up to swipe a thumb over your nipple, pinching it as you plead for more, as you tighten around his fingers, as you flood his mouth, as the toil tightens again, as you teeter on the edge -
Lucien pulls his mouth from you with a wet sound, withdrawing his fingers at the same time. 
You cry out.
‘No,’ you whimper, ‘No, Lucien, please -’
‘Atta girl,’ he says, ‘I knew you could ask nicely. Knew you’d beg.’
Your back flies off the mattress as you reach to claw at him, ready to rip him to shreds, but he’s too quick, kneeling back again to undo his belt, unzip his fly, pull himself out, and oh -
Oh. Fuck. He’s big. The heavy weight of him held in his fist as he pumps himself slowly over you turns your clawing into gentler hands, and he moves so you can wrap yourself around his cock. He feels like silk, so close to his shirt, rock-hard and twitching as you move your hand languidly up and down his length, squeezing, swiping your thumb over his tip as it drips precum. It's hard not to admire him like this, hard to remember why you hate him so much. The ache between your legs borders on unbearable.
He groans loudly, rocking his hips before wrapping his hand around yours, untangling your fingers to hold himself again, guiding his cock towards your entrance. He runs his length back and forth between your folds, covering himself in your slick, feeling your clit twitch beneath him until you beg again - ‘Please, Lucien, please - fuck me -’ before he’s sliding home in one long stroke.
The air is knocked from you at the feeling, at how full you are. He hinges to cage you with his arms, and you clutch at his shirt as he begins to move, slow, so slow. He licks his lips as he watches your face, your mouth in a little ‘o’, neck straining against the pillow, and you move a hand to the back of his neck, wanting to kiss him, wanting to taste him, taste him taste of you. You want to take his plush bottom lip between your teeth and hold it there, hold it there until you taste blood. Bu he picks up the pace, thrusting harder and faster, and you lose your grip, back arching as the delicious burn returns yet again.
‘Fuck -’ you gasp, ‘Holy fuck, Lucien, oh my god -’
‘I know, baby,’ he whispers, fucked out and broken as you already. ‘I know.’
He groans from somewhere deep in his throat, head thrown back to expose his neck, and you want to kiss him again, swallow him down, consume him whole.
You close your teeth over the chain that’s swinging in your face so he can't pull away, and he moans, forehead knocking against yours. You bite down harder, wanting it to break, wanting to shatter it, shatter him. As if he can feel it, he grinds deeper, harder inside of you. You feel yourself clench, feel it begin to spiral. You spit the jewellery out to whimper, scratch down the length of his back over his shirt. He feels so good. Feels so fucking good, and it’s infuriating.
‘I hate you,’ you whine breathlessly. He moans into your neck, breath hot and damp against your skin.
‘Yeah,’ he gasps, ‘Feeling’s mutual, baby.’
He marks the sentiment with a particularly dirty kiss to your throat, and with that, you see stars. You clench and break and stutter around him, splintering and bursting around his cock, crying out so loudly that he secures his large palm over your mouth.
‘Yeah, good girl,’ he pants, ‘Good fucking girl.’
You moan again, and he can feel your body twitch with the aftershocks, contracting and leaking around him. He takes both your legs in his hands and places them on his shoulders, folding you into yourself, fucking into you deeper, harder than before, hitting another angle even more intense than the last. You cry desperately into the pillow, wincing as you tighten again, impossibly fast, too intense, too far away to warn him. But he knows. He can feel it. Tries to hold himself back a little longer to fuck you through it, reaching down to thumb your clit, swiping through the mess you’ve made, he’s made, entranced by the sounds you’re making, the slick sound of him moving in and out of your cunt, the lightheaded feeling he’s got, the desperation, the urge, the need -
He breathes in the scent of your skin as his thrusts get sloppier, inhaling deeply through his nose. He wishes he could kiss you again. Wants to feel the press of your mouth against his, the breaths you take, your tongue against his.
But if he does, it’ll be over. The game will be up, because he won’t be able to hold back the real want he feels, where all this anger stems from. He’s so nasty, so mean because he wants you so bad. So bad, from the moment you met. From the moment you looked him up and down and listened to his arrogant introduction with a little sneer. He wants that attitude - wants to fuck it right out of you.
Your ankle smells sweet against his cheek, and he turns his head to kiss and bite the bone there, feeling you tense and pulse around him at the scrape of his teeth. You twist in the sheets, breathing ragged, eyes scrunched shut, fists clenching the cotton as you moan his name, as you try and bite back the gasps and cries of your second orgasm.
‘Again,’ he grits out, ‘Again.’
‘Lucien -' you cry, reaching for him, ‘Lucien, fuck -'
He comes at the first flutter as you clamp down around him. Buries himself right down to the hilt as he spills inside you, coming with a pained moan and a murmur of your name, eyes fluttering shut as he rocks in and out of your pulsing cunt, fucking his spend deep. He lets your legs fall from his shoulders as he catches his breath, steadying himself with a palm on the mattress as he watches you come down, staring at the rise and fall of your chest beneath your dress, nipples still straining against the fabric. He wants to take them in his mouth, wants to work you up to take you again, but he slips out instead, brushes his hair back from his forehead, watches his cum begin to dribble out of your puffy cunt. You catch him and reach down to run your fingers through the mess of you both, and Lucien looses a strangled groan as you feed it to yourself, tongue working over your digits. You remove them with a pop, sliding your legs closed and settling yourself on your elbows.
He kneels back on the bed, tucking himself back into his pants, trying to focus on something that’s not you for just a moment as you rearrange your dress and swing your legs off the bed. He feels like he should say something, something to cut across what you've just done. Something appropriately callous, but he can't bring himself to. Can't find it within him.
He hasn’t even finished buttoning his pants before you swan out of the room, dress as perfect as it was before, clinging to your curves, moving with your steps. You don’t look back at him as you leave, don’t utter a word.
That familiar flare of anger rises in his chest again. A muscle ticks in his cheek, and he sits down heavily on the bed, clasping his hands together over his knees. He takes a deep breath, exhales through his nose. He soothes himself with the thought of your cunt leaking his cum all over your seat downstairs, thinks about how it’ll ruin your pretty little dress. Tries not to think about how he won’t be tearing you out of it later, won’t be able to taste himself mixing with you like he wants to.
Tries not to think about the perfume you had applied to your ankles.
Tries not to think about how maybe, just maybe, you’ve thought about this, too.
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shellshocklove · 1 day
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wet nights | joel miller
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pairing/AU: bfd!joel miller x female!reader – no outbreak
summary: getting beer spilled down your dress at your best friend sarah’s birthday party might not have been so bad– not when her dad can help you clean up.
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 25 and joel is 47, reader is described as wearing a dress, swearing, use of pet names, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, exhibitionism, praise with a dash of degradation kink, one small touch of your clit, soft dom!joel, use of sir, cum play, no use of y/n
a/n: mom said it was my turn to write bfd!joel lol. basically this is just me wanting to write joel getting his cock and balls sucked bc it's what he deserves 😌 as always thank you to @dustydaddyyy for reading through this for me! and happy reading <3
main masterlist / ao3
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Nodding your head to the beat of the music you gulped down a cooling sip of beer. The bar was stuffed to the brim tonight for Sarah’s birthday. Every chair and booth occupied, large groups huddled together against the walls, and a growing crowd of brave, seemingly deep enough down their drinks, dancers moved across the makeshift dance floor. Leaning against the bar right at the end, you were shielded from the continuous line of people looking for a drink to sate their thirst on this hot summer night.
You’d missed Sarah since graduation. She’d moved back to Austin to be closer to her father – a man you had still to meet even after all these years of knowing Sarah. You’d met in undergrad where you’d had a couple of overlapping classes the first year. She’d been one of those people where you’d just clicked, like a hand in a glove, you two just fit together.
Now you had moved to Austin. It wasn’t exactly planned, but you’d applied to a postgraduate program at the University of Texas, not necessarily thinking you’d get in– but then you had. Sarah had been ecstatic when you’d told her. You hadn’t seen her in person in over a year, but you couldn’t wait to live in the same city as your best friend again.
But first, her 25th birthday party.
Tonight would be your first night out as a new Austinite. Sarah had invited all her closest friends and family to her favorite bar to celebrate. You’d dreaded it a little, you weren’t gonna lie. That nagging anxiety had bubbled under your skin all week at the prospect of being the only one at the party who didn’t know anyone already. Sarah had told you not to worry though when you’d voiced your concern to her a few days ago – she’d introduce you to everyone – nothing to worry about, and she’d been right.
All Sarah’s friends had been extremely friendly and nice, and you’d been taken under their wing immediately. Quickly, your anxiety had melted away, condensing into nothing as you’d started to have a good time.
It was deep into the summer, and Austin had shown itself from its hotter side the last few days. Inside the bar everything ran hot, even with the AC on blast and with the amount of people who’d made their way inside in the last hour, looking for a good time on a Saturday night, it never stood a chance.
Trying to cool off you’d excused yourself from your new group of friends to order yourself a cold beer. One of the ACs blew cold air directly towards the bar, keeping the frantic bartenders cool as they pushed out order after order of drinks. You watched them from where you stood perfectly in the wind of the AC, glass raised to your lips when you felt a hard bump against your shoulder.
“Fuck,” you cursed as your full glass of beer spilled all down your front, staining your white summer dress.
“Shit– sorry, sweetheart.” You didn’t have time to react as your beer was lifted out of your wet hand and placed on the rough wood of the bar.
Looking up from your ruined dress you took in your beer thief as he reached across the bar for some napkins. He was older, forties maybe, maybe older if you were to take the sprinkle of salt and pepper in his hair into consideration, but he was gorgeous. A strong jaw and sculptured nose. Clad in a t-shirt and a dark pair of jeans, you thought he looked casual– not like he belonged to the rest of the birthday party. The material of his t-shirt strained against his bicep as he leaned back from over the bar – a stack of napkins now in his hand. Standing to his full height before you, you noticed just how broad he was, and it made a drop of desire pool in your core. 
The man’s previous frantic movements came to a halt as he took you in for the first time; his dark brown eyes rolling down your body and leaving a trail of heat. His fist full of napkins stalled when his eyes landed on your dress, quickly diverting them with a loud clearing of his throat.
“Um– here,” he said, voice strained as he handed you the napkins.
Pulling your eyebrows together in a frown, you looked down at yourself again. The fabric was completely soaked through, and you felt a prickling heat tickle your cheeks as you realized you now looked like a walking ad for a wet t-shirt competition.
“Oh shit,” you muttered, taking the napkins from the man as you tried your best to cover yourself.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart– bumpin’ into ya like that.”
Pressing the napkins to your dress you shook your head at him, “It’s fine– eh,” you looked up from your body.
“Joel,” he introduced himself.
“It’s fine, Joel. It was an accident. I’ll just go to the restroom and try to get the stain out,” you said with a grimace, and reached for more napkins.
“Let me help ya,” he offered as he placed a friendly hand on your elbow.
As Joel guided you through the crowd towards the toilets, hand hovering at a polite distance behind your back, he continued to apologize.
“I feel terrible– let me at least pay for it if it ends up needin’ replacin’.”
Inside the bar’s toilets, you jumped up on the stone countertop lining the wall, turning the closest sink on.
“It’s okay,” you repeated as you busied yourself with trying to clean yourself up, “This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten beer spilled all over me,” you said with a teasing laugh, trying to lighten the mood a little.
Standing beside you with his hip leaning against the stone and a knee popped, Joel huffed out a strained laugh, a laugh somewhere between embarrassment and relief.
“Yeah?” He questioned, eyes falling to your working hands.
“Tell you this much– I’ve had plenty of wet nights.”
A sound escaped Joel at your words, one he quickly tried to cover up with a cough, and you realize your innuendo a second too late. When you looked up from your hands, eyes wide, you noticed that Joel’s cheeks had flushed slightly, like he was embarrassed that he’d even caught onto the innuendo you hadn’t meant to make. 
“Oh! No, not like that–” you rushed, tone slightly mortified as your eyes met his, trying very hard not to stutter through the rest of your sentence, “I–uh... I only meant that I uh–... I‘ve had plenty of situations in which I’ve gotten wet–” 
At this sentence, Joel raised his eyebrows in a look that seemed half-surprised, half-amused, and your stomach dropped even further into your ass in embarrassment. 
“–with water!” you clarified quickly, before you scrunched up your nose in embarrassment, closing your eyes as you huffed out a laughing sigh, “There’s no way I’m getting out of this gracefully, is there?” 
You heard Joel’s chuckle to your side, deep and syrupy, like the stuff you’d liked to pour over your pancakes in buckets when you were a kid.
“You’d have gotten away with it if you hadn’t started explainin’, I think,” Joel told you, his tone joking, and you chuckled bashfully, nodding before you looked up at him. 
There was a moment in which you exchanged a look, before you felt the smile break over your face and you dissolved into embarrassed laughter, shaking your head as Joel laughed, too. 
“Off to a great start,” you muttered in between chuckles, “First week in Austin and I’m already making passes at handsome strangers in bar bathrooms.” 
“I never said I was complainin’,” Joel said jokingly, and you let out a chuckle, “First week in Austin, hm?” 
“Yeah,” you said with a nod, “Here for a postgrad.” 
“Smart and beautiful,” he mused, “Reckon I should spill beers more often if this is what I get in return.” 
Delicate wings fluttered in your tummy at his words as a feeling of excitement filled your chest. Looking up at him with a raised teasing eyebrow you said, “Not sure spilling beer on someone is the tried and tested formula.”  
“Well, that depends, really,” Joel answered back in a teasingly contemplating voice, “‘s it workin’ on you?” 
Your stomach dropped slightly at his words, and when your eyes moved to meet his, he was looking at you with a look that made your insides burn. 
“Maybe,” you told him with a teasing smile pulling at the corners of your mouth. 
You were never usually this bold, but there was something in the way he was looking at you and the syrup-y tone of his voice. You could tell he knew what he was doing, knew exactly what to say, and you wanted more. Biting down on your bottom lip coquettishly, you leaned backwards on your arms, giving Joel a full view of the soaked front of your dress, and more specifically, everything he could see underneath. 
“And what works on you, Joel?” 
You watched with some satisfaction as Joel's eyes ran over the length of your chest, before he quickly redirected them to your eyes.
“You’re making it very hard to be a gentleman here, sweetheart,” he almost whispered, his eyes as dark as the Austin summer night sky. You gave a noncommitted shrug as a teasing smile tugged at your lips. Then, you leaned forward so that you were closer to him, feet dangling slightly.
“I never asked you to be,” you told him, your voice low but not quite a whisper as you looked up at him through your lashes. 
Behind your rib cage your heart quickened with excitement as Joel’s darkening gaze bored into yours, and you knew you him right where you wanted him. His eyes danced over your face for a moment, before they flickered down to your lips. It almost made you stop breathing for a second, the tension in the air between you so thick you could cut it with a knife. There was just something about this man, something about Joel – and in this moment you wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone before. 
Maybe it should’ve scared you, the speed at which you’d fallen under his spell (or was it the other way around?), but right now, with Joel’s darkening eyes staring into yours, you couldn't bring yourself to feel any fear. You could only look at him, could only feel his breath fanning over your lips and the intensity of his gaze on your face.
“You’re trouble, aren’t ya?” Joel’s voice was low, not quite a whisper, but full of deep bass. 
You felt the expanse of his hand fall on your bare knee, rough and calloused over where your sundress had ridden up. 
“Nothing you can’t handle.” You batted your eyelashes semi-innocently, spreading your thighs slightly, which made Joel’s mouth twitch in amusement. 
“’s that so, darlin’?” He asked, taking his place between your legs, your face now only inches from his as he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Mhm,” you nodded slightly, your hand falling over his to guide it slowly up your thigh, “Don’t you wanna find out?”
As Joel’s index finger made contact with the side seam of your underwear, he closed the space between you and pressed his lips against yours. The hairs of his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow as he dove deeper, lips rolling over yours. You sat up slightly when his other hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him, your core rubbing up against his growing bulge. You whimpered against his lips at the contact, and Joel inhaled it, consuming every breathy moan and whimper.
His hand slid slowly downwards to your ass where he gave it a nice squeeze, pulling you even closer when your legs came up to wrap around his waist. He licked at your lower lip hungrily, and you opened yourself up to him to allow him to deepen the kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. He was a great kisser, probably the best you’d kissed. His lips moved expertly over yours, soft and firm at the same time as he guided you through it.
The grip on your ass tightened again and soon you were half-way to hanging off the counter as he rocked his front steadily against your core, where your arousal had started to pool. The kisses turned needier then, shorter and desperate between quiet whines. You could feel the shape of him against you, hard and thick, and big. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you as you imagined yourself on your knees before him, the weight and taste of him on your tongue. He was so fucking hot, and you wanted him so fucking badly.
“Can I suck your cock?” you panted through frantic kisses.
Joel pulled back slightly, head tipped back to find your eyes. 
“You wanna suck my cock?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. You only nodded, head tipping slowly with the bite of your lip.
Joel tsk-ed, “Dirty girl,” he said and rocked his hard bulge against your core, which earned him a moan. It made a wicked grin spread across his face, like he’d just proved a point.
His hands left your body as he slowly stepped backwards – that same cocky grin adorning his features as he nodded towards one of the stalls. Jumping off the countertop, you almost tripped over your feet to follow him inside.
“Relax, baby– ain’t no need to get on your knees until after we’re inside,” he teased, holding the door open for you, bicep bulging against the fabric of his t-shirt. Fuck, he looked so hot.
“Ha-ha,” you fake-laughed at him with a teasing roll of your eyes as you stepped past him and into the bathroom stall. When the door clicked behind him, followed by the unmistakable sound of the lock turning, you felt a pair of strong hands land on your hips as he pressed his body against your back.
“I’m only teasin’,” he reassured you in your ear, his breath fanning over the shell and sending a tingle down your spine. Turning around in his hold, your own teasing smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Yeah?” you queried with the raise of an eyebrow, “Well two can play that game, sir” you teased as you slowly sunk to your knees, missing the way Joel reacted to the title you’d assigned him.
From above Joel watched you, body relaxed and composed like he wasn’t about to get his dick sucked, but the lust in his eyes gave him away. Your teeth caught on your bottom lip as you fumbled with his belt, the sound of metal clinking bouncing off the tiles as you focused on popping the button on his jeans and pulling the zipper down. You couldn’t take your eyes off the shape of him hidden behind the denim, and it made your mouth water, your thighs squeezing together. You were mesmerized as you let your pointer finger run over the covered length of him, the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs soft under your fingertips.
For a moment, you couldn’t believe what you were about to do – suck a man you’d just met less than an hour ago off in the bathroom stall of some dingy bar? But then again, something excited you about it. 
Maybe it was Joel? Or maybe it was the thrill of it all– of maybe getting caught?
“Go on, darlin’, it’s okay– be a good girl n’ take it out f’me,” Joel ordered from above, his voice dropping an octave. You looked up at him, caught the way he studied you, gauging your every move and reaction.
Then something shifted in his eyes, a flash of insecurity making its presence known, “Or don’t– we can stop f’you want– if you ain’t feelin’ it anymore.”
You shook your head before he’d even finished his sentence. God, no! You sure as hell didn’t want to stop.
“I wanna keep going, Joel,” you smiled, your fingers hooking into the elastic band of his boxer briefs.
A genuine smile bloomed across his face then, his rough hand coming down to cup your chin, “That’s good, baby,” he said, swiping his thumb slowly over your skin, before he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.
“Know you’ll be good f’me, won’t you?” he whispered against your lips, drawing a breathy whine from you at the praise.
“Yes,” you sighed, almost breathless as he kissed you again quickly before he murmured against your lips, “Yes, you will, darlin’– you’re gonna choke on my cock ‘n thank me for it, won’t ya?”
He was driving you mad with all these questions. In just a few minutes, this man had turned you inside out, pushed every button to turn you on– you were practically swimming in your panties, your mind clouded in hazy arousal. 
You didn’t know what to do, and not thinking clearly, you chased his lips.
“Nuh-uh,” Joel chuckled, pulling away slightly, “lemme hear you say it, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” you sighed again, “thank you for giving me your cock.”
“Thank you for giving me your cock, what?”
This manwas relentless.
“Thank you for giving me your cock, sir?” you tried, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.
Pleased, a satisfied grin pulled at Joel’s lips. He rewarded you with a quick kiss before he pulled away, standing to his full height again.
You couldn’t wait any longer, you needed to touch him. Hooking your fingers into the elastic band of his boxer briefs again, you slowly pulled them down, revealing inch by inch of the base of his fat cock.
He was big, and the sight made your mouth water, but what excited you the most was the weight of his heavy balls.
“Fuck,” you whispered, eyes wide with fascination.
His hand found the back of your neck in a grounding hold as he guided you closer, your lips bumping against his tip. “Give it a kiss, baby… just like that,” he praised as you did exactly what he wanted, placing a kiss to his cock the same way you’d kissed his lips.
Over you, you could hear Joel release a content breathy chuckle, “That’s so good, baby, such a good girl.”
Egged on by his praises, you shifted a little on your knees, steadying your hands on his thighs as you pooled a blob of spit in your mouth that you let drip down the head. Joel watched you intensely as you used your dominant hand to slowly work the spit over his length, earning yourself a strained grunt. He grew even harder in your hand as you familiarized yourself with the weight and size of him in your hand. 
“Wanna taste it, sir,” you said and placed another soft kiss to the head, swiping your tongue over the slit to taste the precum that had started to pearl.
“Yeah?” he taunted, almost degrading, “You wanna taste my cock that badly?”
“Y-yes,” you whined, looking up at him through your lashes.
Joel watched you for a beat before he tapped at the hand wrapped around him, shooing it away as he fisted himself. “Open wide then, honey, ‘f you want it that bad,” he said, slapping his cock against the side of your face.
Your mouth dropped open in an instance as Joel stuffed his cock inside your mouth slowly. You opened up as wide as you possibly could, relaxing your jaw to accommodate the size of him in your mouth. It was a wide stretch, and the tip touched the back of your throat far too soon, making you gag around the head.
He pulled back to let you breathe for a moment, before he sunk back down your throat again, a large and grounding hand resting at the back of your head. The second time you were more prepared to take him, holding him in your throat for a few moments longer before you started to gag. Over you, Joel let out a strained grunt; the noise sending a bolt of arousal straight to your core.
After that, Joel let you take the lead.
You started out slow, taking the head into your mouth as you let your spit-covered fingers glide over his shaft in an experimental tug. Under your fist, a slick sound echoed off the tiles with every jerk of his cock. You made sure his cock was thoroughly coated in your spit as you set a steady rhythm. You let your tongue glide over the underside of his tip, his hips bucking when you dipped your tongue into the slit.
It was sloppy, and wet, and the noises coming from your throat were entirely too obscene as you started bobbing your head, taking him down your throat.
“That’s a good girl,” Joel praised you, helping guide his cock down your throat with the hand resting at the back of your head. “You love suckin’ cock, don’t you? Love havin’ a big cock fill up that tight throat?”
Suddenly, you heard the muted music coming from the bar grow louder before dying again at the sound of the door slamming shut. You stilled your movements in panic as you heard someone slip into the stall to your right. Your eyes met Joel as you slipped his cock out your mouth, but to your surprise he looked far from concerned about the new audience. 
Stretching his neck he turned his head in the direction of the occupied stall, while he wrapped his fist around the base of his cock. Even in his hands it looked big, and you started to wonder how you’d ever managed to fit it down your throat. A beat passed before he turned his head to look at you again, a wicked grin coating his lips as he bobbed his cock in your face, rubbing the head over your closed lips before he slapped it lightly against your cheek.
“Open up,” he mouthed with another light slap to your cheek. His actions made a tingle of arousal spread throughout your body, and you realized in shock how much the thought of getting caught turned you on.
You did as Joel said and opened your mouth for him to feed you his cock again. He watched you very closely this time, letting you ease yourself down his cock at your own pace, trying your best to be quiet. When the very tip of your nose made contact with the thatch of coarse dark hair at the base and your lips were snug around his cock, Joel couldn’t help himself. The grounding hand at the back of your head held you down as he shoved himself as deep as he possibly could down your throat, his balls bouncing against your chin at the movement.
To your right you heard the unmistakable sound of a toilet being flushed and a lock being twisted. Your eyes welled up with tears, your vision fogging over as you tried your best to fight against your gag reflex. Over you, Joel watched you with a proud smirk on his lips. When the sound of the sink turning on echoed through the restroom, you allowed a whimpering gag to escape you as you squeezed your eyes shut.
It shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did, but the thrill of getting caught choking on an older man’s cock, a man who was essentially a stranger, made you wonder if you could come untouched. You were so close already, just a flick of your clit would send you off the edge of bliss.
Your eyes were about to roll back into your head when Joel finally pulled back. You gasped violently for air at the exact moment the door opened, filling the toilets with loud music for a moment before you and Joel were locked away again in your own little world. Like you were on autopilot, your hand slipped between your thighs to find your clit, and soon you were withering with your orgasm.
“Oh, there you go, honey, come all over those fingers f’me, just like that,” you heard Joel say, though the force of your orgasm made it seem like he was far away, like your ears were filled with cotton.
When you finally calmed down, you steadied yourself with a tug at Joel’s jeans – the fabric rough under your fingertips. Over you Joel fisted his cock as he watched you with a wild look in his eyes.
“Goddamn, baby, you’re so fuckin’ hot comin’ like that just from gettin’ your throat fucked.”
“Thank you, sir,” you managed to let out, your voice strained and hoarse.
Realizing he must’ve been close, you sat up straighter on your knees, ready to pull him off the edge too. Leaning forward, you stuck out your tongue, licking a fat strip up the seam of his balls to the underside of his shaft. His cock jumped in his hand as Joel let out a breathy laugh.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, “Look me in the eyes honey– look me in the eyes when you lick my balls.” Joel jerked his cock above your face as you continued to lick at his heavy balls – your eyes locked with his.
“Look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he choked out through groans, “Suck on ‘em, baby, suck on my balls.”
Blinking up at him you tried your best to fit one of them in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking greedily and lapping at the skin, before you moved on to treat the other with the same amount of love.
Joel’s mouth dropped open in a gape, his breath coming out quicker and more staggered. He squeezed himself harder at the base with each jerk before skating his thumb over the swollen head, massaging it. 
“Fuck,” he panted, “I’m gonna come, baby, I’m gonna fuckin’ come.”
Popping his balls from your mouth you hurriedly sat up in front of him, the tip off his cock brushing over the plump of your bottom lip with every thug of his cock.
“Please, sir,” you begged, “Please, come in my mouth.”
Joel wasn’t one to deny your request, especially not when you were sat so pretty in front of him with your tongue sticking out.
A second later, Joel shoved his cock in your mouth and came – balls drawn tight as he shot his load down your throat. The force of it made you gag a little at first, the restriction around his sensitive cock only making him come harder. He groaned above you as you sucked him dry, before he pulled back when it was too much, and caught his breath.
“Say Ah,” he said, a gentle but firm hand cupping your jaw. The squeeze of his fingers made your mouth drop open to reveal the cum coated on your tongue and where it pooled at the back of your throat. “Don’t swallow– Let me see, darlin’.”
Your smile fought against his grip. Sticking your tongue out the best you could, you let him see the state he’d left you in; chin coated in saliva, tears starting to dry on your cheeks, mouth puffy and fucked, and marked in this stranger’s cum.
“Pretty as a picture,” he tutted before he let go of your jaw, and with a pat to your cheek finally gave you permission to swallow.
After that it was like the spell had broken between you. Joel helped you to your feet, both of you giggling when your legs wobbled like a foal unsteady on its feet. He held you upright with a strong hand to your waist, while the other one traveled up the length of your body to cup your face, and bring it closer to place a slow and sensual kiss to your lips.
“Would you believe me if I told you I’d never done anything like that before?” You asked him a moment later as he helped you clean your face by the sink.
Joel gave you a look in the mirror.
“You don’t?” you exclaimed.
Joel gave you an infuriatingly casual shrug, “It ain’t your first time suckin’ dick that’s for sure,” he teased with a pinch to your side which made you jump.
Giving him a playful shove, you said, “I’m not lying! I’ve never had a one-night stand.”
“Well, the night’s still young,” Joel joked, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and dipping his head to place a soft kiss to the column of your neck.
You leaned into his touch, feeling the soft grip of his hands on your body, and the soft presses of his kisses as you watched the two of you in the mirror. You found that you liked the reflection looking back at you, and if you were lucky, you hoped he liked it too; maybe enough to want to see you again.
“I can’t go back out there like this,” you said after a moment.
Your dress had finally dried, but so had the beer – staining it yellow.
Joel lifted his head from your neck to rest his chin on your shoulder as his eyes scanned your body in the mirror. 
“I have a flannel in my truck I can borrow you?”
“More layers in this heat?” you questioned, already sweating at the thought.
A wide grin spread across Joel’s face, full of mischief, “I guess I’ll just have to take ‘em off of you later, then.”
Turning around in his hold, you wrapped your hands around his neck, your fingers toying with the hair curling at his neck as you met his eyes. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” you whispered, painfully aware of the wet stain of arousal soiling your panties and sticking to your cunt.
“No, it doesn’t,” Joel hummed, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. 
“Wanna get out of here?” you asked and brushed your lips over his.
A moment later Joel guided you out the restrooms with a protective hand resting at the small of your back. Weaving through the crowd, you’d made your way almost to the exit when you heard a shout of your name over the music.
“There you are!” Sarah shouted again as she moved through the crowd towards you and Joel, arms reached out to the sky.
“Oh! And you’ve finally met my dad!”
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i hope this was okay and that someone liked this? as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3 i'm very curious to hear your thoughts about this! <3
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The Wolf You Feed (Part 1)
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 8k
Part 1 / ? (Ongoing Series)
Summary: Set in fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.
Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50). This chapter includes smut with fingering and cum eating. Dominant Joel. Eventual Angst. Drinking Alcohol. Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. 
Chapter Excerpt: He presses a gentle kiss behind your ear and another one drags to your jawline and to the soft meat of your neck. His coarse beard scrapes against your skin and makes you shudder. You press your ass into him and feel him hard against your lower back. He responds by pressing into you firmly and brings his mouth to your ear. 
“You feel what you do to me, beautiful girl?” He asks with his low, gravely voice and presses another kiss into you. His heat is searing into you.
A/N: Please hang in there. This chapter has a lot of setup and is a bit of a slow burn. Its also my first fic and I am pouring my heart and soul into it.
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“Remember, if you need anything you can ask Joel. He knows his way around the house” your mother reminds you. 
“Thanks, I will be fine but I’ll keep that in mind.” You appease her but have no intention of bothering her neighbor.
“Love you, honey. Talk later!”
“Bye mom. Love you.” You end the call and slump back against the couch. This was going to be your home for the next few months. Your parents had gone south to avoid the brutal New England winter and had offered their summer vacation home in Kineo to you in the interim. No rent and plenty of free time to figure out what to do with your life next. All you had to do was pay the utilities and keep an eye on things.
The offer was genuine but also came from a place of concern. You had spent the last few years living a more-or-less nomadic life and poorly indulging your dreams of adventure. Your bachelors degree in Liberal Arts proving to be as useless as everyone told you it would be. It got you jobs easy enough but nothing that felt like a long term career. It all felt directionless but you also had been hell bent on proving everyone else wrong and keeping up the appearance that you were doing just fine. 
Your past relationships were nothing too exciting either. Months of casually dating someone and it not really going anywhere or random hookups that you regretted the next day. One or two guys you were getting serious with but ultimately scared you off when they started talking about a family in their big picture. You were starting to get cynical about any compatible prospects.
You are only 29 and wonder if a midlife crisis before your 30’s is normal. At least, that is what it felt like was happening. You had been treading water for too long and felt like you were too tired to keep swimming.
Your mother finally wore you down enough when your lease was up at your Boston apartment and you had no real obligations. You hated your current job, your roommates were little more than acquaintances and the busy city life scene was starting to lose its charm especially when it was astronomically expensive to live there. It was getting harder to say no so you agreed to her offer. 
You had to admit living in the country sounded like a nice change. You had a few months to figure stuff out and the thought of something new was exciting to you. Even if it meant continuing to endure the bitter winter, you had a chance to start fresh somewhere new. Something different. 
You didn’t grow up here and spent most of your life living in suburban homes with slightly warmer climates. Your parents had bought a small one bedroom vacation home in a sleepy New England town that they mostly only enjoyed in the prime summer months. The home sat mostly vacant otherwise. They would rent it out for weeks at a time but in the winter months no one from away wanted to go there. Too far from ski resorts and civilization to be of interest to a casual vacationer. It had a lake that drew much attention from outsiders only when it wasn’t frozen. The town was reduced to just the year-round locals in the coldest months.
Your new residence was outside the main populous of Kineo and nearby the lake. In fact, you could see the lake peeking through the thick pine trees out the front window if you looked hard enough. 
The closest and only neighbor in sight was the handyman your parents raved about across the street. He kept an eye on the place while they were away. You had never interacted with him on your occasional summer visits, but knew he had been kind to your folks and heard about him often enough. You occasionally saw him out in his yard from afar and he would give a lazy wave to your parents in passing. You never really got a good look at him up close but from what you could see he looked rugged and fit and always wore jeans and work boots. He had a modest waterfront cabin across the street and seemed to keep to himself.
You had arrived just a few days ago and already had a job lined up at the local coffee shop, Grind. You were getting your caffeine fix and saw a help wanted sign in their window and you had no trouble securing the job when you chatted with the owner. She hired you on the spot and seemed desperate but grateful that you actually had enthusiasm for coffee and knew your Americanos from your Lattes. Grind Coffee House was on the main drag along with some other quaint shops. It was charming enough and an easy 10 minute drive from your house. The pay was pitiful but would be enough to get by. Things seemed to be lining up perfectly.
You went to bed early that night and felt optimistic that this was going to be good for you. This was going to be the reset that you craved. A new adventure. It was like nothing you had experienced before and maybe that was exactly what you needed.
Shit. Your first day working at Grind and you can’t even get the car to start. 
It was freezing cold. The kind of cold that hurts when it touches your exposed skin. You turn the key in the ignition again and the engine makes a pathetic attempt to turn over. Nothing. Fuck. 
You turn the key again. Nothing. Fuck fuck fuck. You pull out your phone and realize you have no idea what to do other than call your new boss and make a horrible first impression. No, that wasn’t going to do. You look in the rearview mirror and see across the street that lights are on at your neighbors house, despite the early hour. As quickly as the thought crosses your mind you push it away. No. No way were you going to bother him at this hour. You hadn’t even officially met the guy yet.
You pull up Google on your phone and scan the first few results for “car won’t start” and narrow it down to engine troubles or dead battery. Either outcome is something you are not equipped to handle. 
A few moments pass and you reluctantly weigh the options. Would a garage even be open this early? How long would that take to get someone out there? You were wasting time and had to do something. You curse to yourself and go back inside the house.
You walk over to the fridge where a note is hanging front and center “Joel Miller” with a phone number neatly printed. Your mothers careful handwriting to contact the poor neighbor that she probably harasses all the time. You sigh and open your phone to dial the number.
It rings a few times, and then you hear a gravelly voice that catches you off guard. 
“Hello?” A deep and thick, unfamiliar accent answers. Not what you were expecting. 
“Hi, Mr. Miller.” a long pause and you stumble over your words. “I uh, I’m sorry to call you so early. I'm Rick and Linda’s daughter.” and mumble your name. Another pause. 
“Ah, right. Whatcha need, kid?” He asks with little expression in his tone. You can’t tell if he is annoyed or just sounded that way. 
“My car won’t start and I–” you pause, not too sure how to ask for help from a stranger. “I don’t know what to do...” Your voice trails off with uncertainty on how to ask for help or what you are even expecting. 
You hear a long exhale on the other end, like he is letting all the air out of his lungs while he is thinking on it. 
“Dead battery most likely… on a day like this. I’ll be right over.” He hangs up the phone before you can say another word and instead say thank you out loud to yourself and let your voice trail off. You instantly regret making the call.
You zip up your coat, pull your knit hat snug over your ears and head back outside when you see a black Ford pickup truck ease into your driveway. A tall man wearing a brown suede jacket approaches. The morning light is faint but you can make out that he is much older and has some silver streaking his hair and beard. He looks weathered and rugged but also has a warmness about him that is hard to reconcile with his rough exterior.     
“Joel Miller, I presume?” you nervously laugh and awkwardly introduce yourself for the second time. You attempt to be extra friendly and maybe penetrate his bristly wall. It seems to help when he notices you are a young woman and not some bratty teenager that your parents probably made you out to be. He takes a step forward and reaches a hand out towards you, nodding. He firmly shakes your hand and you are taken aback by how his grasp seems to engulf you.
“Pleasure to meet you, darling.” His voice is smooth and polite and has the tiniest hint of playfulness in his tone. You can’t place his accent, but you know it isn’t from around here and only someone from away would say ‘Darling’ so casually to a stranger. 
His dark brown eyes hold your gaze for a moment and he has the faintest smirk as he subtly scans your body. It sends goosebumps down your spine. You are grateful that you made an extra effort to look cute for your first day of work. You realize your hands are still embraced and nervously laugh as you pull away. He gets right down to business, but not before stealing another peek of your body when he thinks you aren’t looking.  
“Lets see what we got here.'' He climbs into the driver's seat and in no time confirms it's the battery when he hears your car's engine protest. He walks over to his tailgate and brings back some jumper cables. 
You stand there with your arms wrapped around your body trying to hold in as much warmth as possible. Your bare hands clenched in a fist and tucked in as far as they could in your jacket sleeve to shelter from the cold. Your teeth chattering as you try to stand out of the way but want to be nearby too. At least give the illusion you can be helpful if he needs something. You regret your first meeting being a clueless damsel in distress, but maybe he liked that sort of thing. His tune did seem to change once he saw you. 
Joel returns and leans over the edge of the seat leaving the door wide open, his large palm dragging up slowly from the floor to the steering column, searching for the hood release. His finger catches on the button and he pops the hood. It’s hard not to stare at him while he slides his expert hands with reckless abandon.
His eyes find yours and the corner of his mouth raises slightly. You question if you are mistaking his caught you watching me look for more than what it was. He seems to enjoy you watching him work. He steps away from the seat and pulls a pair of work gloves from his back pocket as he works to connect your car to his truck with the jumper cables. He starts his truck back up and approaches you. Your breath and his making little frozen clouds as you exhale. 
“You can sit in my truck if you want, it’s plenty warm in there.” He gestures with his thumb over his shoulder. “This will just be a minute.” You thank him and take him up on his offer and climb into his passenger seat. He has a classical rock station playing on the radio. A thermos sitting in the center console. You glance in the back seat and see some neatly organized tools and miscellaneous junk on the floor. It smells metallic and leathery. 
You outstretch your hands to the vents that are pouring warm air into the cabin and relish the heat.  
A few moments pass and you don’t see much of what’s going on with the hood of the truck blocking your view. You doom scroll on Instagram to keep yourself busy but your mind keeps thinking about Joel. You were in no way prepared for your neighbor to be so fucking handsome. It felt absurd to be so turned on by him.
He’s too old. You tell yourself. Don’t even think about it. 
Your thoughts are interrupted as the hood slams shut and Joel opens the driver's door. He reaches his arm out to grab his thermos while he climbs into the seat with a groan. The door shuts hard behind him and a blast of cold air invades your space briefly.  
“Damn cold one today” He says it with a huff as more of an observation than a complaint. He takes a sip of his coffee and looks over to you. You nod in agreement and find yourself caught up in what to say to him. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them in his backseat. He rests his arm along the back of the seat and it is nearly touching your shoulder. The way his body takes up the space makes you feel small and helpless. Then, you remember you are small and helpless compared to him. He doesn’t feel threatening towards you but you certainly does give off the aura that he could be intense in the right circumstance. You find that undeniably attractive.
“Your folks called me last week. Told me you were gonna be staying here a while.” His eyes are back focused on you. “Meant to come over this weekend and introduce myself.” he seems a little nervous and takes another sip of his coffee. “Didn’t wanna bother you, though.” 
You feel a small smile start to grow on your face. The thought that he shared the same reservations brought comfort. Joel rests his thermos between his legs while still holding it with one hand. He looks like he is hesitating to say something but does it anyway. He looks over at you with tender eyes, 
“Didn’t expect.. You know...” He makes an unreadable expression as he is searching for the words and scans your body up and down. “Someone like you.” You were not entirely sure what he meant by that, but his smoldered stare on your body made you feel hot inside and your cheeks flush. He looked at you with intrigue and it made you feel good. It made you feel wanted. It had been too long since you felt that way.  
In fact, it has been too long since you had any sort of relationship. Even a casual lay.  
“You really saved my ass this morning. Thank you.” You pause and feel yourself giving a sultry gaze back at him. “I owe you one.” Joel makes a no big deal gesture with his hand and a cocky smile as he chews the inside of his cheek. In that brief moment you feel something between the two of you. The desire to flirt; tempt a man with at least 20 years on you. An unexpected but undeniable magnetic pull. A curiosity to learn what lies beneath. A forbidden fruit that is ripe and beckoning for you to take a bite. Something different. Something exciting. Something you know you should stifle before it even begins.  
His eyes reflect the same sentiment but also harbor concern and restraint. It’s a bad idea. The brief silence between you looms loudly. The elephant in the room. 
“Where ya’ off to so early anyways?” he asks, eager to change the subject. He takes another sip of his coffee while you reply.
“Oh, first day working at Grind. You know it?” Joel's demeanor changes in a subtle way that you may not have seen if you weren’t so focused on trying to read him.  
“Oh. Yeah..” he chides and looks down, pensive in thought as he brings his hand to the back of his neck and rakes it through his hair. “I know the place.” He glances back up and avoids eye contact. The bite in his voice does not go unnoticed, but you don’t pry. 
An uncomfortable subject; noted.   
“Better coffee than this I reckon” he says as he places his thermos back in the center console. He attempts to lighten the tone and then glances at his watch.
“I gotta get to work, sweetheart. Keep your car runnin’ for a bit and you should be all set. Probably get that battery replaced.” His tone is more serious now, more business-like. You realize you had been waiting in his truck longer than necessary. You really have to get to work anyways. 
You thank him again and return to your car. He waits for you to get in and raises his fingers off his steering wheel in a lazy wave to signal he was leaving. He backs out of your driveway and heads down the road towards town.
You take a deep breath and adjust the knobs in your car. Joel had put everything on high heat and full blast for you and your car was now unbearably toasty. You tune your radio and ease into the road and on your way to work. 
All the while your mind can’t stop thinking about your charming, handyman neighbor. 
So that's Joel Miller. You smile to yourself and faintly feel butterflies in your stomach. Anxious thoughts that excite and frighten you.  
It took Marlene all of five minutes to become your new work bestie. She was efficient and smart and knew her way around the place. She was the only one working when you arrived and despite the line of customers she was friendly and teased you for arriving late on your first day. 
Marlene had great rapport with everyone. It was apparent that the customers were all regulars and she wasted no time introducing you to them. She had a somewhat forward style but it was well received because she knew exactly what she was doing and didn’t waste time being flowery and over the top. It reminded you of the brashness of Boston.
After the morning rush things were relatively calm. You had time to chat and get to know her a little more while she was showing you the ropes. It wasn’t complicated and you were a quick study.
By mid afternoon it was time to close up shop. The hours were a perk. You were scheduled to work weekdays from open till close and would have to occasionally help out on Saturdays. Marlene worked the same shift and the weekends were mostly covered by high schoolers. 
It was just after 2 o’clock when the owner, Tess, stopped by. 
“How did it go?” she asks you both as she takes a seat and rests her bag on the counter. Marlene had no intention of telling her you were late and talked you up, pleased with your presence. Tess had a few other properties she owned so her time at the coffee shop was only as needed and Marlene you learnt was more or less the one who ran things day to day. 
You recap the day and thank her again for the job. You did genuinely enjoy the work. It was easy. Simple and straightforward. You got to know lots of town folk and everyone was curious and interested in meeting the new girl in town.
Tess seemed pleased enough and was quick to head out. She was friendly but brief and gave the impression she had other responsibilities that demanded her attention. She joins you behind the counter briefly and pours herself a black hot coffee in a to-go cup. Another perk of the job was indulging in all the free coffee. 
“Let me know if you guys need anything!” She says energetically as she collects her bag and heads out the door. She flips the sign to “closed” as she leaves. 
“Tess is cool. She doesn’t interfere too much and we only see her a few times a week, if that.” You nod to acknowledge Marlene. “Lets finish cleaning up and get out of here.”
It was nice leaving with the sun bright and warm. Winter meant shorter days, so getting out of work with a few hours of daylight felt luxurious. The bitter cold from the morning had made its departure. 
You had been so focused with work it wasn’t until you got back to your car that you allowed yourself to think about Joel again. You know you shouldn’t but can’t help feeling turned on at the thought of him. He was handsome in that brooding, mysterious way and he emanated competence. It was refreshing and welcomed. 
You decided to send him a text message. You had his number in your recent contacts after all and you were curious if he would play along. You were certain that there was something sparked between the two of you, but unsure if he would act on it. Unsure if there were too many obstacles between you.
You keep it simple and friendly.   
You: Thanks again for your help! 
Your car starts up with no issue and you head home. When you arrive you glance down to your phone to see a simple reply. 
Joel: Anytime
It was brief but you couldn’t help but read it with that low, southern drawl. His voice was so distinct. Polite but stern. You add him as a contact in your phone and wonder if he did the same. 
You take a shower, make some dinner and get comfortable in your bed. It’s early and you watch some TV when you hear your phone chime. You glance at your phone and see Joel Miller has you on his mind as he revives the conversation with you. 
Joel: So how did it go? 
You smile and recount this feeling like you were a teenager talking to your crush. You want to gush about your first day but you play it cool and brief. 
You: Went good, I think I’ll like it there
A few minutes pass. Against your better judgment you start to go into details but delete it before you hit send. You recalled his strange reaction earlier when you brought up Grind. This man has you second guessing yourself and you don’t want to blow it before it even begins. He replies instead before you elaborate.
Joel: Glad to hear. Thought you would. 
You: I’m exhausted though, getting to bed
You decide to be playful and see how he reacts. 
You: Goodnight, Mr. Miller.  
Joel: Just Joel. 
Joel: Goodnight darling
Darling. Even if it was just a typical Southern phrase it made you wild. It was uncommon to hear in the north and felt so endearing and warm. The knots in your stomach return as you struggle to fall asleep. Your mind is too excited to see where things go from here. You knew he was interested in you enough to keep talking. It would have been easy for him to end the conversation there and keep things formal and neighborly. 
Your mind wanders thinking about how truly handsome he is. How badly you want his manly, rough hands on your body. How his voice makes you melt. How his domineering  presence makes you tingle in your core. You feel yourself starting to get wet just at the thought of his body and what you wanted to do to it. What you wanted him to do to you. Sinful thoughts.
You slide your hand between your legs and feel yourself already wet and wanting. Your delicate fingers tease circles over your clit and it doesn’t take long before you get off. You feel ashamed to be lusting over an old man you barely know, but nevertheless wish it was Joel’s rough hands on you.   
You wonder if he is doing the same thing and sharing the same thoughts about you.
A few uneventful days go by and now it’s Friday. You haven’t seen much of Joel other than his truck occasionally driving off, but he had been stuck on your mind all week. Lonely nights accompanied by dirty thoughts of Joel that only fueled your yearning to get closer to him. Your inhibitions regarding age and disapproval of your parents were blinded by your building desire. It still weighed on you though. Your parents would be appalled and probably disown you if they knew. It would just be another tick on the disappointment list.   
Work is busy and the day flies by. Just a few hours to go. You are taking a break, sitting at one of the tables by the front window and snacking on a blueberry scone. You reason with yourself that tonight is as good as any to try to make something happen. 
You: You doing anything tonight?
An agonizing hour passes and no reply. Your message is on read. Marlene takes notice of your change in demeanor. When things finally slow down and its just the two of you waiting around to close up she presses you.
“So.. whats going on? You look distant.” 
“Just trying to… make friends here.” You pause. “A friend in particular.” Your voice trails off. Marlene catches on quick and she had suspected you were starting to fall for someone. 
“Anyone I know?” Marlene knows everyone. You don’t want her judgment on the matter so you keep it vague.
“My neighbor. He doesn’t seem the type to come to a place like this though.” Your phone chimes and you try to play down your excitement as you look down and see it’s from Joel. You can barely contain a smile. 
Joel: Just got done a job. No plans
Marlene searches your face and rolls her eyes.  
“Just go over then. Easy enough.” she was right. 
“Yeah, I think I will.” 
The rest of the shift goes by quickly and you are both out the door by 3 o’clock.
You sit in your car and decide to just call him already. You were craving to hear his voice again and you wanted to put him on the spot. He answers quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Joel. I still owe you, you know for helping me out earlier.” Joel sighs in defeat. 
“I see you aint lettin’ that go. What did ya have in mind?” 
“Can I come over tonight? I’ll bring over drinks.” Your offer was more forward than you intended, but you went with it.
“Yeah, ok. Sounds good.” He pauses and has a counter offer for you. “Come over for dinner first?” You melt at the thought and realize you haven’t responded and there is a silence while you are getting lost in your thoughts. “Grilling steaks. Nothin’ fancy.”
“Yeah. Sounds good.” You can feel your smile spilling into the phone. That sounds more than good. It sounds really fucking good.  
“Alright. Come over ‘round 7.” 
“Ok. See you tonight.” You end the call and take a deep breath. Your heart is beating out of your chest in excitement. 
Getting ready for the night you attempted a relaxed look. You wanted to look nice, but approachable. You had some worn jeans that tucked neatly into your Bean boots. A button down flannel that you left undone over an intentionally low cut, fitted shirt. It accented your chest just right. You wore your hair down and went light on the makeup. You threw on a light leather jacket and grabbed the six pack of beer as you head across the street. 
Joel opens the door and leans in the doorframe with a casual figure, taking you in while he bites his lip,
“Evening' sweetheart” He steps back and holds the door open for you and gestures to come in. He was definitely a gentleman. You normally are not a fan of the pet names, but he worked them into his vocabulary so smoothly it was welcomed. 
You step inside and turn around, holding up the six pack of beer.
“Sam Adams. That ok?” He shuts the door and nods in approval. “Figured I’d bring some Boston culture over.” You step further inside. His kitchen is just off the main entrance and has an island with some bar stools at it. You make your way over and take a seat and rest the case on the countertop. 
Your eyes scan the room. His kitchen is tidy, save the spot where he prepped the steaks. You see an empty whiskey glass. Evidence that he had at least one stiff drink before you came over. You panic a little and regret not doing the same.  
“That where you lived before this?” He interrupts your thought as he stands across you at the island. His crossed forearms holding him up as he leans towards you with intrigue. He is dressed plainly in a pair of worn jeans and a plain navy blue t-shirt that hugs his arms just right. His biceps bulge as he is leaning forward and your mind is now preoccupied with just how broad his shoulders are. You almost forgot he asked you a question.
“Yeah, for a few years anyways.” You briefly recount, distracted when Joel takes a beer bottle from the case and effortlessly pops the cap with his large, calloused hands. A satisfying hiss escapes the bottle followed by a clink as the cap falls to the countertop. He slides it over to you and repeats the motion again for himself.
“Oh, wow.” you say out loud, without realizing it. Joel has that cocky side smirk again, well aware of his impressive party trick. He holds the bottle up and towards you and you do the same, clanking bottle necks together and taking a sip. Your eyes are locked on each other for a moment; trying to read each other's intentions.  
“Make yourself comfortable. I’m gonna put the steaks on.” he gestures his head to the back door that leads onto the deck. He grabs his suede jacket off the back of a chair and walks towards the back entrance. You trail behind and this was the first time you really noticed just how beautiful his home was. 
His open living room and kitchen had a vaulted ceiling with massive windows lining the whole back side of the cabin. It faced the lake and you could imagine how serene it would be to watch the sunrise. The cedar walls and flooring made it feel cozy and inviting. There was a large wood stove in the center of the living room and an open loft above the back of the living room. The deck seemed to wrap along a good part of the home. 
“Your home is beautiful.” It had looked so much more discrete from the road; tucked behind some pines and a long driveway. The backyard was a short distance to the lake and sloped slightly down to a dock. Joel probably had a boat parked there in the summer. The cabin was perched perfectly with a breathtaking view; isolated and private from the world.
“Thank you. I built it myself. Me and my brother Tommy.” 
“Thats… impressive.” 
“Eh, just comes with being a contractor. Made more sense to build my own place the way I wanted.” There it was again, that feeling in your core that excites you. Joel likes to be in control, and he has the skill set to back it up making it all the more alluring. 
Its a cool night, but not uncomfortably cold to be outside for a few minutes with a jacket. In fact, you are grateful to have the crisp air to help ground you and calm you down. It was embarrassing how easily Joel could work you up. You lean over the railing and gaze out over the lake while he tends to the grill for a moment and then joins you at the railing.
“I spent a few years there myself. Boston.” This was news to you, but you were still curious about his Southern accent. 
“And… before?” 
“Texas.” He takes a sip of his beer. “Most my life.” You smile and give a slight laugh. 
“Well, that certainly explains things. You don’t exactly sound like a New Englander” you tease him. Joel laughs and looks a little distant. Something you have come to realize about Joel is that he has a lot on his mind he doesn’t say out loud. His mysterious demeanor was something you found as attractive as it was frustrating. 
“You like it here so far?” He asks.
“I do. Its simple and peaceful. Life is easy here.” you realize while saying this out loud that you mean it. You really are enjoying your time in Kineo more than you ever had expected. “And… my neighbor isn’t so bad.” You tease. Joel rolls his eyes and returns to the grill, pulling the steaks off.
“Mine is a pain in the ass.” He jokes as he closes the grill. He wasn’t wrong. You were persistent if anything. 
Dinner is laid back and enjoyable. He has a small dining room table but you choose to sit next to each other at the island drinking your Sam Adams and enjoying your ribeye steaks. Joel cooked them to perfection. You stay seated long after you are done eating, getting carried away with conversation. Your bodies are facing each other and knees knocking into his as you get animated with your storytelling. 
Joel mostly listens while you ramble on. The more you drink the lower your inhibitions get. You are a lightweight to begin with and it doesn’t take much. You don’t even notice that he isn’t really listening to you anymore. His focus has left your well intended words and shifted to your body. He’s looking at your low-cut shirt teasing him. The way you brush your hair out of your face when you laugh. How your neck looks so inviting when you tilt your head back to take a sip of beer, You don’t register that he is eyeing you crudely like you are a piece of meat. That he is fighting every urge inside him to just lose himself with you. 
He inches his hand along the countertop closer to yours until he is grazing your wrist with a light touch and dragging his fingers back across yours. It sends a shiver through your body as you become aware how he is looking at you and how painfully reserved his touch is. It is polite but intrusive. He watches how it makes you feel. How you start to come undone. 
Your pent up feelings are starting to overwhelm you and you excuse yourself reluctantly. Your heart starts to race and you wonder if he can hear it beating. 
You get up and bring your plate over to the sink to wash it. It is a distraction more than anything while you gather yourself. Joel watches you from behind for a moment. You can feel his gaze burning into you and brace yourself against the counter. You like the way it feels. The way he makes you feel wanted. 
That loud silence returns. The air in the room feels heavy. He joins you at the sink and you can feel his heat envelop you as he approaches you from behind. His broad body boxes you in and makes you feel small and vulnerable. 
Joel takes his hands and dances his fingers down your arms lightly. His touch starts a fire inside you and you crave a heavier hold. You need him like you need air in your lungs. He presses a gentle kiss behind your ear and another one drags to your jawline and to the soft meat of your neck. His coarse beard scrapes against your skin and makes you shudder. You press your ass into him and feel him hard against your lower back. He responds by pressing into you firmly and brings his mouth to your ear. 
“You feel what you do to me, beautiful girl?” He asks with his low, gravely voice and presses another kiss into you. His heat is searing into you. 
He agonizingly slides his hands down to your hips and turns you to face him. He pushes your body gently against the countertop and moves one of his hands up to caress your face. He presses his hips into you and holds your chin gently between his thumb and finger. He stares down at you with a thirst in his eyes. He narrows his focus to try to get a reading on you. Your mouths are just inches apart. There is a hunger he is resisting but the wolf inside is slowly starting to win over reason. 
“I want this, Joel.” You stare up at him and make sure he can see the desire in your eyes and that you are serious. You want to remove any hesitations he has on your account. You try to rock your hips into him but he has you pinned. He can feel your needy attempt.  
“We shouldn’t…” Joel pleads, but his words are empty and not speaking the same language as his body. 
Your age, your parents, your unfamiliarity with one another all should be reason enough to quelch this flame, but it just makes you want it that much more. He has wanted you since he first laid eyes on you that morning he came to your rescue. He wants to be respectful but fails, instead teasing you with how much he wants you. The hesitance is an illusion that he has kept up until that moment. Your body is trapped against his and he is looking at you like you are prey in his clutches. You had suspected and even hoped that Joel was a dominant lover with how confident he carried himself.   
You seize the opportunity to show him just what he is doing to you. 
You push your tongue into him and taste him; sweet and malty. His warm and wet mouth is inviting and intense. All reluctancy fades away as he gives in to you and takes control with his tongue. You can feel his cock is hard and straining against his jeans as he rocks into you. Your arms hang around his neck and tangle into his hair as you grind against each other. The friction of both your bodies sending each other into a frenzy.
He drags his mouth away, biting at your lower lip as he moves along your jawline to the soft skin at your neck. You stretch your head back giving him full access to your bare neck as he nips at you hungrily. His scruffy beard rubs roughly against your supple skin and feels so good. One hand roams up your shirt while his mouth traces lower and lower down to your collarbone. He thumbs and circles over your nipple. He can feel it harden through your bra and engulfs your breast with his large hand. His touch is brazen but you welcome it. You can feel just how badly he wants to devour you and it makes you moan.   
He slides his expert hand from your breast and drags it down to your jeans. He unbuttons them hastily with force and works his hand slowly inside. Your underwear is already wet from your arousal. He pulls his mouth away from you and has a devilish grin as he grabs at your pussy and narrows his eyes on you.
“You’re so wet for me.” He says breathlessly with anticipation while he has you in his grasp. 
He slides his hand inside your waistband and teases your clit as his hand slides against you. You want to reply to him but your words are trapped beneath the moans caught in your throat. He brings a finger to your opening and slowly pushes the tip inside you. The pressure from his large, calloused fingers makes you buck into him. He rubs his thumb over your clit as he slowly teases your entrance with his finger. He takes it slow and when he thinks you are ready he slips another one inside.
You can feel your walls clench around his obscenely thick fingers and he pushes deeper. Twisting and playing at your entrance and thrusting in. Your hips writhe in his grasp. While one hand is busy with your cunt the other has an iron grip on the back of your neck. His mouth messily returns to the soft skin above your collarbone and into the crook of your neck. You are completely at his mercy and can’t imagine any other place you’d want to be. 
You are so tight but he stretches you open artfully. Moans escape your lips as you gasp when his fingers dip further into you, reaching that perfect part deep inside. 
“Come for me.” He pants into you with a snarl as you convulse on him.  
He doesn’t let up and fucks you relentlessly with his fingers until you are coming and moaning his name. Incoherent expletives escape you while you soak him.   
You ride the wave of pleasure for as long as you can. It has been too long since you had fucked around with someone. However, no one had ever so masterfully gotten you off with just their fingers. The way he handled your body and worshiped you with his mouth was intoxicating. 
As you come down from your high he slides his wet fingers from inside you and pulls his mouth away with a final ravenous kiss on your swollen lips. He places a kiss on top of your head and pulls you in close for an embrace. The hard protrusion against your body makes itself painfully known.   
Joel presses his forehead against yours as he works to unzip his jeans and free himself. His fingers are wet with your slick. He smirks at you as his hand glides over his swollen cock and rubs your wetness all over his length. His breathing shallows as he strokes himself with one hand and braces his body on the countertop with the other. His swollen head grazes your belly with each thrust into his fist. 
You watch him wantonly as he palms himself with more vigor. Joel’s cock is thick and intimidating, but you crave it in the worst way. It is by far the largest you have ever seen. It glistens in your slick and the precum that was beading at the head. A desire builds inside you and you yearn for more of Joel. Want him in your hands, your mouth, your cunt.  
“Let me, please?” your voice comes out barely above a whisper. His hand slows and comes to a stop. He stretches out his arms to hold him up against the counter as he hovers above you and lets you take over. 
You reach out and grab on to him. You marvel at its size and how weighty it feels in your hands as you start to rub them up and down. His skin is hot and velvety smooth and pulled tightly. Your pace is much slower but more precise. You feel the veins bulge under your grasp as your fingers glide up and down his length.  
A moan hitches in his throat as you rub your thumb over his sensitive tip. You do it again and again. Teasing Joel Miller feels dangerous. You can feel how ragged he is and how close he is to coming. You want to make him come undone.  
“God, damn it.” Joel grunts under his breath. He peels back your hand and painfully pulls it off of him. His cock twitches at the loss of your touch. He stands up straight and towers over you as you shrink back.  
“Get on your knees.” He commands with his hand firmly on your wrist as he pulls your face closer to his. It sends a shiver through your body and you oblige. Any warmth in his eyes has been lost and he is staring at you; dark and menacing. He throws your wrist away and grips his hand along the side of your neck. His touch is rough and urgent. His fingers snake around to the back of your neck as he pulls you closer to him while you drop down. They twist into your hair and he has a hold on the back of your head. It doesn’t hurt, but his grasp is firm and might if you tried to fight it.  
He takes his cock back in his grasp with his other hand and pumps it. His movements are jerky and his breathing is labored. You can tell he is so close. He roughly pulls your head back by your hair to look up at him.
“You gonna’ finish what you started?” he asks with darkened eyes. “Then open up.” He commands you through clenched teeth. 
You respond with an uncontainable smirk. You part your mouth slowly and let your tongue hang out, never taking your eyes off his. You sit back onto your knees so that you are slightly under him and wait patiently. He widens his stance. His hand slides to the top of your head and tangles in your hair. You can feel him slowly starting to lose control and come undone before you while he strokes himself. You brace yourself, hooking your fingers into the back of his thighs and clawing at his jeans. You can smell his sex and feel his heat but he holds you just out of reach and makes you wait while your thirst grows. 
Finally he taps the head of his weighty cock against your tongue and you lick at his slit, sending him over the edge. He groans as his thick spend coats your tongue and drips messily onto your chin. You close your mouth around him as he begins to stall out and swallow, pulling the final drops of cum from him while you choke his cock with your mouth. 
“Good girl.” He rasps at you. “So fucking good.” His grip on you loosens and he tenderly drags his hand along your jawline. You relax your mouth and let him slide himself out. He groans when your tongue licks the underside of him as he pulls out. 
He thumbs over some of his mess that falls out of your mouth and curls his thumb over your bottom lip. You lick him clean and he moves to hold your face in his hands while you look up at him.
“My good girl.” His words shoot straight to your core and make you weak. He brushes your hair behind your ear and helps you up. He places another kiss on your head and wraps his arms around you. His hot and heavy body feels so good against yours. You tilt your head up and press your mouth into him one more time.
“Are we even now?” you joke. Joel smiles. Everything about him feels warmer. He peels himself away from you and steps back, leaning against the island. You adjust your clothes and zip yourself back up while he does the same.
“Actually… think I might owe you now.” Joel says with a playful tone. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and shakes his head at you like he can’t believe his predicament. You like the idea of Joel owing you. 
You don’t spend the night. He offers to walk you home but you opt to go alone. It felt good to get some fresh air, to clear your head and recap the night. You also wanted to leave him wanting more.
You weren’t sure what would come from this situation with Joel, but you knew you barely scratched the surface with him. He was rough around the edges but you liked that about him. You liked that a lot. 
END CHAPTER
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A/N: More to come! Undecided how many chapters but I have quite a bit mapped out. Please be kind. This is my first fic and it is nerve wrecking to post! If you loved it, PLEASE let me know. I'd love to know your thoughts so far! What did you like? What do you want more of? How much angst can your heart take? I aim to test it in future chapters. Comments/Reblogs are appreciated so much. Thank you all
Also special thanks to @magpiepills for the lovely cover photo (and her mood board inspirations she helped with along the way!) and to both her and @legendary-pink-dot for reading my first draft and giving their feedback AND courage to post this.
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If you are here for my gifs only and are like WTF I dont want to see this mature content... you can follow me over at @ArcaneFoxGifs which will ONLY be reposts of my gif sets.
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Love to my friends who give me the courage and support to do all the things @magpiepillsjunior @legendary-pink-dot @exquisiteserotonin @youandmeand5bucks @redhotkitchen @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo
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