#I finally got to see Austin lol

[jackieswift]

I will never get over last week, never ever 🐍❤️✨🇬🇧🕛🌙

[myownwholewildworld]

uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer

series masterlist | main masterlist | part ii

pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.

summary: you're driving back home and, unbeknownst to you, you've committed quite a few traffic offences, noticed by the one and only police officer, joel miller. he's not gonna let you get your way that easily.

a/n: umm hello?? idk what happened, but here we are. i threw this idea to the wind, people seemed to like it, so i started typing and this is what came out. read the warnings and do not judge me please lol this is inspired by this and this ask, so kudos to them! so basically i have decided to start a series of one shots where joel miller wears different uniforms. YEAH, i know, i'm not okay but that's okay. if you guys have any suggestions for this series, my askbox is open! also, i've decided that if i/you guys want, i can write the same uniformed!joel more than once (e.g. two fics of police officer!joel). if someone is interested in being in the taglist for this series, please do let me know. anyways, i do appreciate all comments, reblogs, likes and asks. as always thank you for reading! <3

warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. filthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). alcohol consumption (reader is sober by the time it happens). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. rough, public sex. unprotected piv. creampie. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.

w/c: ~4.6k.

tagging some people who seemed to be v interested (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):

@fartcloudfartcloud @liciafonseca @fan-fiction-floozy @sweetlummie

“Shit”, you mumbled as the car keys slipped off your fingers.

You crouched down and blindly dabbed the asphalt, your phone falling off your hand too. You grunted in frustration ― maybe you did drink a bit more than what you had intended. Not to the point where you thought it would be dangerous, otherwise you wouldn’t be driving home. You were already clumsy when sober, so this was no sign of anything, really.

The keys had tumbled under your car, so you got on all fours and bent over to reach. After a few trials, you finally got hold of them. Steadying yourself on the handle of the driver’s side of your car, you got up. Your tiny, fitted skirt had scrunched up at your waist, so you pulled from the hem to bring it back down. Looking around, you hoped you hadn’t flashed anyone.

You had dressed up for the occasion. As you grew older, your group of friends slowly drifted apart, so agreeing on a date and time to meet up had been a fucking miracle. You had been out since midday and sipped on many margaritas to quench your thirst. But knowing you would need to drive back home, you had stopped drinking a couple of hours ago. If you could, you would have gotten hammered. Living in the outskirts of Austin sucked.

You managed to finally open your vehicle and sat down. You hunched down, avoiding the steering wheel, to undo your heels. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips when you took them off ― your feet were hurting so bad, you questioned all of your life choices. A minute later the motor roared awake, and you were on your merry way without a hitch.

That was until you drove out of the city center onto not very well-lit roads. You were driving through an industrial estate when sirens went off behind you. Clicking your tongue, you looked through the rearview mirror, thinking it may be an ambulance asking you to give way.

Ah, no, you were very mistaken. It was a freaking police car, and it seemed like it was asking you to pull over. Great, just fucking great, you thought.

The headlights blinded you, so you couldn’t see the man approaching your car. Then you heard a tap, tap, tap on your window, the officer dazing you with the torchlight. You inhaled deeply, putting on your best smile, and rolled down the window.

“Good evening, officer. What can I do for ya?”, you battered your eyelashes at him, still dazzled by the torchlight.

Maybe if you played all sweet and innocent, he would take pity on you and let you go.

However, you were met with a deep, husky voice.

“License and proof of insurance”, he barked, no good evening miss, no please, nothing. So rude.

When he put down the torch, you caught a glimpse of the guy’s face. Bearded jaw with a prominent moustache, brown curly hair with slivers of silver, an attractive hooked nose, and some devilish hazel eyes. He was in his mid or late forties and was so fucking handsome you almost drooled at the sight.

You bit your bottom lip, a lopsided smile curling at the corners.

“Yes, of course, officer”, your voice was sweet and smooth as you bowed over the passenger’s seat, your boobs casually resting on the steering wheel.

You opened the glove box and handed him the papers, faking the most innocent, girly look you could muster.

“Is there something wrong, officer?”, you asked, leaning on the door frame, gifting him with the tentative sight of your deep cleavage.

His eyes wandered off the papers he was holding and lingered where you intended. You read the tag on his shirt: Officer Miller. Well, Officer Miller looked damn good in that tight uniform. The black shirt clung to his flexed biceps, the buttons slightly giving way to the bulge of his chest, the belt hugging his waist and… good fucking lord, those thighs, the size of a rugby player’s.

Your mouth watered.

You would lie to yourself if you said you were not affected by his presence. In fact, your damp cunt might as well fucking disagree with you. You pressed your knees together, unconsciously looking for some relief to the sudden wet heat gathering in between your legs.

His eyes drifted up lazily, locking on to yours. You swore a muscle on his jaw twitched.

“You were speeding, doing 40 on a 30-mph road. And your headlights are off”, he replied, his tone raspy.

Fuuuuuuuck, that’s why I couldn’t see shit. Were you that drunk? You didn’t feel like it.

Your face expression didn’t flinch, playing dumb might just do the trick. So you giggled, smacking your forehead with the palm of your hand.

“Ah, silly me. But it was well lit up until now, sir, so no harm done, right?”, your honeyed voice pleaded. “I swear this was a 40-mph road a couple of months ago?”

“It was but got changed. Did you not see the road sign?”, he seemed to be very annoyed.

You had no time to answer, because Officer Miller pointed to your lap. For a second you panicked ― surely your arousal had not drenched your clothes, right? You were aware of how wet your pussy was, but not to that extreme. Right? You looked down ― your phone was resting on your lap, but nothing else. A wave of relief overcame you and then you glanced up at him, confused.

“You were talking on the phone while driving, I presume.”

You gasped and promptly shook no with your head.

“No, no, officer. You see, I left it there when I got in the car, I forgot it was on my lap. I promise I wasn’t texting or anything like that.” Your explanation was genuine, but he cocked a brow. “I wouldn’t lie to you, sir.”

“Why? Because you’re a good girl?”. That question caught you off guard and turned you on at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. Your clit twitched. You gaped and nodded unwittingly. “I see. Step out of the car.”

Your heart was racing, attempting to jump out of your chest. Maybe you had been too suggestive. But he was the embodiment of the law, surely the officer had had his good share of temptation and would not yield so easily.

You got out of your sedan, slightly dishevelled, and tugged at your skirt so it would stop riding up your thighs. Officer Miller had taken one step back, his eyes measuring you from top to bottom, loitering on your breasts. His tongue quickly darted out to wet his bottom lip ― you were mesmerised by the simple gesture and pondered how it would feel if you choked on his tongue.

That thought made your cunt gush some more. You pursed your lips ― eyes on him, trying to convey normalcy.

“You’ve been drinking and have also been driving barefoot. That’s a total of, what, five offences?”. Miller clicked his tongue in disapproval. “It’s like you’re begging to spend the night in a cell.” His eyes flickered with malice ― and something else. Lust?

You really did not want to sleep in a cell tonight. You just wanted to get home, that was all. Also, most of your “offences” were bullshit. You were certain he couldn’t charge you with half of it, but his wickedness made you wary.

“I’m not drunk,” you said with a languid smile, touching his forearm, his arms crossed at his chest. “I stopped drinking two hours ago, officer.”

He raised an eyebrow ― Officer Miller didn’t believe a word you said.

“I can smell it.” You didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but his eyes drifted down to your pussy.

“I-It?”, you repeated, lips parted.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you for a long minute. Your bravery had flaked a bit, although your cunt was begging for him to do something about it.

Joel was having a hard time curbing his horniness. You were so inviting, so insinuating, it was like you were asking to be fucked there and then. Oh, yes, you were, he knew you were. Showing off your boobs, wetting your lips, rubbing your knees together, playing with the edge of your tiny skirt. He had noticed every single one of your seductive attempts.

His cock was hard, so much so that it was stretching against the zipper of his work trousers. He kept his arms crossed, but what he really wanted to do was to readjust his erection so it wouldn’t be so damn uncomfortable.

“Turn around, hands on the car”, he ordered with a steely voice.

You first looked muddled, but finally obliged, giving him your back ― your palms resting on the roof of your car, your knees pressed together. He was sure your cunt was pulsing, and you were just trying to calm yourself down.

The thought made him mad with lechery. His dick was throbbing already.

“I’m going to pat you down, and then I’m gonna cuff you. Understood?”, he warned you, getting close to you.

You suddenly looked over your shoulder, your smile unwavering. You tilted your pelvis back, your ass against his bulge. You glanced down and then back up at him decisively.

“I’m sure we can work something out, officer?”, you whispered, your butt pressing on his swollen lump.

No, Joel was not imagining things. You were definitely asking to be fucked senseless in exchange for just a warning. He was still contemplating whether to entertain the idea or not. You were tempting, he would give you that. Your body was built to satisfy a man’s pleasure ― he could see that even when you were clothed. Barely clothed. Your top was too small, your boobs almost spilling over the neckline; your skirt was too short, your ass cheeks almost visible ― and he was sure you had some slutty heels on before you jumped into the car.

His cock jerked at the thought of rearranging your guts. Because that was what Joel would do to you if he had the chance. He cupped his groin for a second now that you were not looking, pressing it slightly to relieve some of the tension.

It didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. He suppressed a frustrated groan.

Joel slotted his right knee in between your legs and forced you to separate them, his heavy boot grounding him. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you’re under arrest for at least reckless driving. Now stay still.” He was fully aware of how the top of his thigh brushed your crotch, but made a titanic effort to ignore it, for his own sanity.

Your panties were so fucking drenched, you feared your discharge might start dripping down your inner thighs. In fact, you let your head down to check discreetly and sighed with relief ― nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t notice how fucking horny you were.

Then he forcefully parted your legs, and you felt the fabric of his trousers sliding against your wet panties. The subtle touch made you jerked your hips up and then back down in surprise, your clothed cunt flushed against his thigh ― you had to swallow the sluttiest moan of your entire life, it felt damn good.

“I’m― I’m sorry”, you mumbled, lifting your body up to break the contact.

You didn’t need to look down to know that there would be a wet patch on his black trousers.

“You should be, making a mess of my uniform like that”, he grunted, exasperated.

Pressing your lips, you inspected every inch of the roof of your car while he patted you down. His big, calloused hands lingered on your underboob longer than necessary, almost cupping them. Both hands travelled down to your waist, his fingertips slightly under the waistband of your skirt.

Your heart was pounding, suddenly unsure of the whole thing. What were you really doing? Were you so desperate that you would let him use you in exchange for letting you go? Were you getting more than what you had bargained for?

It was like the excitement had burnt the last drop of alcohol in your blood and now you were fully aware of what you had unleashed.

But you had no more time to question your attitude, because Officer Miller completely slipped one of his hands under your underwear and buried all of his fingers in your soaked folds, except for his thumb which quickly found your clit. You shut your eyes and moaned audibly, your knees giving way.

His free hand wrapped around your waist to help you stand up, while his fingers traversed your whole slit, from your perineum to your clit, buttering your cunt with your own fluids.

“You are so fucking wet already, you should be ashamed of yourself”, he whispered in your ear while he pushed your ass back into his bulge.

Your treacherous body had awakened at his touch, your clit felt like it was on fire and your cunt was pulsating so hard it was uncomfortable. You rubbed his dick with your buttocks, unconsciously looking for some more friction. Miller groaned behind you, jerking you closer, his cock hard pressed against your ass.

Two of his fingers dipped further down and found your leaking hole, his thumb still rubbing your clit languidly. You whimpered and stirred your hips when one fingertip circled your entrance tentatively. Your back arched, pushing your butt further into his erection.

“Aren’t you a slut?”, he hissed as both fingers slid inside you, your brain not registering his words.

Your moist pussy clenched around his fingers, squeezing them hard. Every time your heart beat, so did your cunt. Officer Miller started fingering you, first slowly, and then picking up a relentless pace. Unable to control yourself, you mewled like a kitten in heat, your forehead now resting against the cold metal of your car and a thread of spit hanging from your mouth. Your needy cunt was so stimulated, so hot, so slippery, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, even if you wanted to.

So you let go. You orgasmed so hard, you squirted with his fingers still dug in your creamy pussy. But you coming didn’t stop Officer Miller from driving his digits inside of you over and over again, forcing another climax on you a minute later. Your inner walls palpitated so violently, you felt the emptiness of your womb. Then you noticed it: the trickle of your own cum streaming down your inner thighs.

Officer Miller forced his fingers out of you, a pop sound making it obvious that your pussy was drown in your own fluids. The cop tapped your pussy a few times, almost gently, as the last wave washed off your nerve endings. You had never come so hard in your life before. Not even your boyfriend of five years had been able to turn you on this bad.

When your limbs regained some strength, Miller let go of your waist and stepped back. You slowly turned around to face him, but as your eyes drifted down his uniform, you realised that there was a new wet patch on his trousers, this time on his bulge. You had leaked so much, you had drenched his own pants.

You tried to find the words to explain to him that this was not what you had intended. Or was it?

“You’re still under arrest”, his voice was resolute, as if nothing of what just happened had affected him.

Before your neurons could make contact with each other, he handcuffed you, your laced hands resting in front of you, conveniently covering your spent pussy.

“But―”.

“No but’s, blackmailing a cop is an offence too. So that makes it six now, right?”, he cut you off.

You huffed, not believing what he was saying. You had not blackmailed him, not even close, he was just making it up now. Before you could argue, Officer Miller removed the keys from the ignition, shut the driver’s door and locked your car. He then grabbed you by your elbow, forcing you to walk in front of him towards his cruiser.

“Oh, c’mon, you’re now just bullying me”, you complained, your sweet façade quickly toppling.

Miller didn’t reply to your taunting. He simply opened the back door of his Crown Vic and threw you in. You almost tripped but manage to stop the falling. You sat down on the seat, your legs still out of the car, bare soles against the asphalt.

You didn’t know what possessed you, but your cuffed hands darted up and played with the buckle of his belt. Maybe if you gave him some head, he would relax and let you go. You were already in too deep anyway, your whipped pussy living proof of your desire.

“Officer, please, I can make it worth your while if you let me go”, you muttered, your fingers unclasping his belt.

Miller did not say one word, he just stared you down while you held his gaze. His waist slanted forward in an unspoken invitation, his eyes swirling with lust and wickedness.

You were not sure why you were doing this, or if you wanted to do this. But you were a horny mess, your pulsing cunt urging you to keep going, saturating your panties even more. Sure, you could drive home and ask your boyfriend to take care of you, but by the looks of it, you were going to spend the night in a station cell if you didn't do something about it. About him.

With firm hands, you undid the buckle and unzipped his trousers. His big, meaty cock sprung out with no warning, swaying in front of you. He was wearing no underwear. You marvelled at the sight ― his dick was the longest you had ever seen with a considerable girth, veiny and hairy at the base. It looked scary, but also fucking tempting.

“Don’t just stare, do something”, he commanded, grabbing your cuffed hands to bring them closer to his erection.

Ah, someone is impatient, you thought with a smirk before wrapping both of your hands around his circumference. With your mouth agape, close to his leaking tip, you rubbed the precum against his slit with your thumb and then started pumping him. His cock was palpitating, hard and velvety under your clasp ― and warm, so fucking warm you could feel his blood rushing underneath.

His jaw clenched, his eyes transfixed on your moving hands as you upped the rhythm. And then, without prior notice, he fisted your hair in a ponytail and drove his whole dick down your parted lips. You retched when his glans surpassed your uvula and coughed with his cock still in your mouth.

You were suffocating, but he didn’t give a fuck. In any case, he pushed his cock further down, but it had nowhere to go. His pubic hairs tingled the tip of your nose as you looked up, silently asking for mercy with teary eyes.

Miller glanced down at you and the motherfucker just smiled as you were still gagging.

“Look at you. What a whore, you’re taking it so well”, he mumbled under his breath before pushing your head back.

His cock slid out and you coughed to clear your throat of precum, swallowing it. His brutish attitude, although unwelcome, made your traitor of a cunt gush.

“I’m gonna fuck your throat to teach you a lesson. Open up for me, darlin’.”

You didn’t know why, but you just obeyed. Without breaking visual contact, the cop slotted his cock back in between your lips. With his hands on your temples, he tilted his hips forward until his tip stroked the end of your throat. Then he pulled out harshly and started jackhammering your mouth relentlessly, driving his cock in as far as he could every single time, his hairy balls hitting your chin. With Miller taking the lead, your cuffed hands were free. They were lazily resting on your lap until you dipped them down, your index caressing your deprived clit.

You just took it like a champ. After a while, your gag reflex relaxed and you dared to press your lips around his girth, so it would be more pleasurable for him. His slick cock was drumming in your mouth, filling it up entirely, choking you.

Miller pulled your head back sternly ― you were panting like a puppy by the time he was done with your throat. Your eyelashes were damp with unspent tears. You were sure that tomorrow it was going to hurt like if you had caught the worst cold of your life. Your mouth was filled with his sticky precum, a bridge of it connecting your mouth to his cock.

“You’ve not thrown up, well done”, he chuckled darkly. “Clean this mess for me.”

Again, as if you were not in control of yourself, you did as you were told. You licked his throbbing cock, swallowing all the fluids you had swept off his groin.

He lightly patted your cheek. “Good girl, now get up and take that finger out of your pussy.”

You had not realised you had been fingering yourself all along and your clit was begging for some relief. With a trembling sigh, you removed your hand from in between your legs and stood up.

Only then you caught on: he had not come yet. Fuck, you thought.

Did you want this? You were not sure. Letting him finger you and giving him head was one thing, but letting him fuck you was a completely different story. You were not a slut nor a cheater, but he made you feel like one. Your dribbling pussy made you feel like one.

Joel snatched his fingers around your elbow once again and made you walk to the front of his cruiser. He was in extreme need of relief ― his cock was pulsing so hard it was driving him mad with lust. He was gonna fuck that cunt of yours till you begged him to stop.

Unceremoniously, he splayed you down across the hood of his car ― your chest against the metal surface, your ass up in the air and your legs spread wide. If he could take a picture to jerk himself off to, he would.

He needed to see for himself, taste for himself. He was sure as hell that your pussy was drooling, beseeching to be filled to the brim. So he knelt behind you and parted your ass cheeks to have a better look. You whimpered, tiptoeing to give him better access to your soaked flaps.

“You’re such a slut. I could scrunch your panties to fill up an entire glass with your cum. Your thighs are all wet and tacky too”, he couldn’t stop himself from pointing it out, driving his hands up from the back of your knees, up your inner thighs, until they reached your crotch, framing your pussy.

He leaned forward and sipped from the fountain of your underwear, his fingers digging in the flesh of your ass, smelling your sweet sex. You wept, moving your hips against his mouth. Ah, yes, he knew you wanted him to fuck you hard. Very hard.

Joel rode up your tight skirt, exposing your ass to the elements. And then he pulled down your panties and put them in the pocket of his vest, as if they were a trophy. Because they were.

He now could have a better look at your creamy cunt, all smeared with your wanton fluids. Spreading your pussy open with his hands, he lapped you entirely a few times, even your butthole. Joel heard your moans loud and clear, knowing that you had never had your pussy eaten this good before. So he kept on going ― lapping, licking, sucking, biting until you squirted in his mouth, leaking like a broken tap and whining like a bitch in heat.

Joel drank it all and when you were finished, he stood up. He spanked your ass and with a swift movement, impaled you until his balls were flat against your thighs.

You screamed, literally screamed at the top of your lungs, when he stabbed you with his cock. You tried to hold onto something, but there was nothing you could grab. This was exactly what your cunt needed, being stuffed like a goddamn turkey in thanksgiving. Officer Miller drove his cock in and out of you lazily at first, and then he started fucking you stupid with such vigour that your body was being rocked back and forth, the handcuffs sliding against the hood, scratching the metal underneath.

You just moaned uncontrollably throughout the whole thing, unable to quieten yourself. Your cunt clutched around his throbbing dick, squeezing it hard, so hard you felt your muscles strain. Your clit spasmed severely, another fucking climax creeping up on you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK”, you implored to the sky, to him, to whoever was listening.

The cop then fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled backwards, forcing you up off the hood, your back arching against his chest while he drilled you mercilessly. You were sure the squelching sounds your pussy was making could be heard from a mile away.

Then you finally came again, shrieking ― your treacherous pussy clamping down on his dick, leaking absolutely everywhere, trying to desperately milk him dry. Your eyes welled up, your black eyeliner running down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna take it inside and you’re not gonna complain”, he moaned in your ear and even in your blissful daze, you panicked.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” you mentioned, but you knew it wasn’t going to stop him.

“Ah, do you? Doesn’t seem like it right now”, and then he huffed heavily, letting go, driving his cock as far inside of you as he physically could.

His warm cum filled you to the brim, painting your walls of sticky white. Irremediably, you sighed, heaving, and closed your eyes, letting yourself rejoice in how full you were of his spent, of his cock.

And as soon as it started, it ended. His dick slid out of your crying, sensitive pussy, leaving your damp skin exposed to the cold air.

You took a minute to compose yourself and pushing down your skirt. When you looked at him, he had already tucked away his cock back in his work trousers, his cop uniform slightly in disarray. Now there were more wet, sticky patches adorning his groin area, a mixture of your shared pleasure.

“Can I have my panties back, please?”, you requested, extending your hand to him, with a sunny, albeit quivering, smile.

“No, I’m keeping them.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Can I at least have a tissue to clean myself up?”, your voice grew smaller as you lost confidence.

“No. I want you to go home with your pussy bursting with my cum, so that boyfriend of yours knows you’ve been fucked stupid by someone else”, he explained, full of himself.

At least you were going home. Or so you thought until you saw him walk to the back door of his Crown Vic, holding it open for you to jump in.

“This means nothing, you’re still spending the night in the cell”, he said, matter-of-factly.

You scoffed, angry. “Are you fucking serious?”, you asked, although what you really wanted to do was cry.

But you swallowed your tears, contrite ― your pride was bigger than your shame. And right now, you felt mortified.

What had you done?

Well, you had gambled, and you lost.

But, on the other hand, he had fucked you so good, so filthy, you were not sure any other cock would measure up to his.

[honeyedmiller]

Mr. Bakery Man

baker!joel miller x f!reader

rating: none

synopsis: it’s not every day you get to move from nyc to austin for your job and relish in a pleasant change of pace. it’s also not every day that you discover a cute family owned bakery in the heart of austin—and it’s definitely not every day that you meet the owner and fall head over heels for him.

warnings: this is pure, innocent tooth-rotting fluff ; fun flirting, we’ll call this one a hallmark type beat lol, sarah and ellie are both in this, joel is down bad in this (but so is reader), no use of y/n.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this was supposed to be for @punkshort’s au writing challenge but i’m hella late on it. life has been crazy lately, but thanks for sticking with me during my unintentional hiatus 🤍

Moving from New York City to Austin Texas had been an oddity in life’s recent escapades. 

Your job had asked if anyone in your department was willing to do the big move because the office in Austin needed a strong journalist on their growing team. With the rest of your colleagues having kids and spouses, nobody was interested in uprooting their whole life to move to a completely different state. 

You, on the other hand, wanted to get out of New York. You yearned for new opportunities, and when this one arose, you didn’t hesitate to tell your boss you were interested. 

You’d been slowly settling into Austin, getting used to life in another city with a completely different atmosphere. You were grateful your new colleagues were all very nice and welcoming. 

The one thing you’d say you missed dearly back in New York City, though, was this amazing bakery off of Fifth you’d frequent before work. Their coffee and croissants were delicious, which is what led you to go on a Google hunt to see what bakeries were good around here in Austin. 

One caught your eye immediately—Sarah & Ellie’s— with five star reviews and multiple photos of all the sweets they had to offer. It was a cozy little café and bakery mixed into one with a homey, warm vibe and cute decorations. You mapped it to see how long it would take you to get to the place, and to your luck, it was only a ten minute walk from your apartment complex. So, you decided you were going to go first thing in the morning before work. 

And for some reason, you felt excited to try a new place. Maybe it was a sign of finally getting used to living in a completely different state, fifteen hundred miles away from your old life. 

You luckily got used to being an early riser, so once morning had rolled around, you were up n’ at ‘em by six thirty. You left your house around seven, making your way down to Sarah & Ellie’s. 

The shop felt more homey than it looked online. As soon as you stepped in, there was already a short line of customers and a waft of delicious baked goods and coffee that filled your senses. You suddenly yearned for a home you’d never even been to. 

You stood in line and observed the menu, deciding on sticking with a classic chocolate croissant and latte for the time being. You wanted to see if this place held a candle up to the place off of Fifth. 

The older gentleman in front of you greeted the cashier with a bright smile, and she immediately typed in an order. 

“Hey Randy, how’s it going?” 

“Hey sweet pea. Just here for my usual mornin’ coffee and danish,” he says, handing the girl a ten dollar bill. She counts out the change and closes the register with her hip before returning his beaming smile to him. “Tell your old man to stop workin’ so damn hard. Cheryl says I need to lay off the sweets once in a while, but I can’t do that if all his baked goods are too delicious to resist.” Randy pats his stomach with a satisfied hum, and the girl laughs. 

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message. Have a good one!” 

After she waves him off, she locks eyes with you and gives you the same beaming smile as you stepped up to the register. 

“What can I get ya, Miss?” she asks, tone cheery and light. 

“I’ll take a chocolate croissant and a latte, please.” 

She nods and rings in your order, grabbing a cup to write your name on it. 

“Not to intrude or anything, but are you new ‘round here?” Her tone is still light, laced with pure curiosity as the sharpie pen hovers over the latte cup. 

You gave her a smile and nodded meekly, “I am.” 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Sarah.” 

You give her your name and her smile never wavers, scribbling your name on the cup. 

“Let me get that chocolate croissant for you—” she started, but was accidentally cut off by a man opening the door that separated the front of the café from the back. 

“Hey babydoll, do we have anymore—” the man stops abruptly, eyes landing on you. A black apron adorned his clearly thick and strong physique, flour dusted on his hands and arms. He was tall, and had a sweet glint in his brown eyes that made warmth flood your whole body. He had a head full of thick brown curls with grays strewn in here and there, and the mustache along with the stubble on his chin mirrored the streaks in his hair.

He instantly gave off a charming aura, and when he smiled at you, you were a goner. 

“Hello Miss. Don’t think we’ve ever met before,” he says, dusting his hands off on the apron before extending one to you. His Southern accent dripped like thick, pure honey, and it made your skin burn hot. 

You couldn’t hold back your smile when you reached your hand out to shake his. It might’ve sounded cliché as hell, but the sudden surge you got from just touching him made every single cell in your body alert, yearning for more. 

“I’m new in the city,” you explain, “Just moved here not too long ago.” 

“Ah, makes sense. Think I’d remember ya even if you didn’t come in often.” 

You’re taken aback by his words. Was he… flirting? You felt your face heat, and your eyes nervously flit to the glass case full of delicious looking pastries. Well, if he was flirting, there’s no harm in doing it back… right? 

“Me coming in often depends,” you find yourself grinning like a fool, “Do your pastries taste as good as they look and smell?” 

“They’re the best in Austin,” he winks, and with that, murmurs something to Sarah before giving you one last smile before walking to the back again. 

Sarah can’t help but giggle as she hands you your croissant. “It’s on the house,” she waves her hand as you pull out your wallet, and you stop short to give her a confused look. She clocks the expression on your face and grins. “Dad said.” 

“That’s your dad?” You didn’t mean to pry, you were just taken aback. 

“Mhm. Family owned and operated bakery,” you immediately hear the pride in her voice, and you can’t help but smile. “I’ll have your latte out in a minute.” 

You grin and nod, stepping over to the other side of the counter. You decided to take a bite of your croissant while you waited for your latte, and god, it was the best pastry you think you’d ever had. The croissants on Fifth had nothing against these gooey, decadent, flaky treats. 

You nearly had to hold back a moan, and the man—Randy, you think—laughed beside you. 

“Good, ain’t they?” he asks, and you nodded expeditiously. 

“Probably the best croissant I’ve ever had.” 

Randy nods in agreement, “Miller’s the best baker in Austin. Been comin’ here since his girls were little.” 

And you finally figured that Ellie must be his other daughter. It warmed your heart that he’d name his place after his two girls, clearly his pride and joy. 

“That’s so nice,” you say, and give him a quick wave goodbye when his order is called out. 

“Hopefully I’ll see you again soon,” Randy shot you a smile before taking a sip of his drink, and you nod at him with a smile before you turn your attention to your name being called out. Sarah handed you your drink and you thanked her, taking a cautious sip. 

Even the latte was superb. You were one hundred percent sold on this place, and maybe even a little smitten with the owner. 

Yeah, you’d definitely be coming back. 

-

A month passes by before you know it, and you’re now deemed an honorable regular at Sarah & Ellie’s. You’ve met Ellie, who was a total opposite of her sister—but you loved both of their personalities all the same. You learned that Ellie was going to art school and you promised her you’d buy a commissioned piece. 

Sarah was going to school for business, studying to take over the bakery one day, and possibly even expand it as a franchise. You told her you’d be at the grand opening the day that it happens. 

As for the owner, Mr. Miller—or, Mr. Bakery Man, you teasingly called him—kept the flirting subtle but fun. You looked forward to the playful banter you two’d exchange, and it always earned a raised brow and a not-so-subtle smirk from either Sarah or Ellie. 

Unbeknownst to you, they’d tease their father about the ‘crush’ he had on the pretty regular that came in and how he should buck up and ask you on a date. 

And he planned to do just that. When you went in on a Saturday morning, you were surprised to see him working the front counter instead of one of the girls. 

“Well if it isn’t Mr. Bakery Man,” you say, and he runs a hand through his hair. 

“In the flesh,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“Girls didn’t come in today?” You lean up against the counter as he grabs a latte cup, writing your name out on it. He hesitates for a moment, but continues to write on it before setting it down on the opposite countertop. 

“Nah. Sarah was up late doing homework and it’s Ellie’s turn to have Saturday off.”

You nod in understanding, pulling out your wallet. He stops you and shakes his head, and you scoff. 

“You have to let me pay, Mr. Miller. You can’t keep giving me these discounts.” 

“Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” his smile was shy, and he was fidgety—almost like he was scared. Right when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, he cut you off. 

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” His words were rushed, and your heart melted at how nervous he sounded. 

You paused your movements completely, meeting those warm brown eyes that made you feel so safe. 

“I’d love to,” you answered, and relief visibly washed over his features. 

“Great. I, uh, wrote my name and number on your cup. Hope you don’t mind,” he says, and you have to bite back a smile. Then you suddenly realized you never even knew this man’s first name. You’d just stuck with calling him the nickname you gave him, or by his last name. 

You took the cup from him gingerly as he finished making your drink a few minutes later, and turned it in your hand to see his name and number scrawled on the side as promised. 

Joel. 

The name fit the gorgeous man in front of you. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, and your palm landed on his insanely toned bicep with reassurance. 

He stared at you, the warmth in his eyes nearly making you weak in the knees. 

“I promise I’ll call you,” you say, giving his bicep a soft squeeze. Your hand falls to your side again before grabbing the croissant from the counter that you didn’t notice until now, and you eagerly took a bite. 

Joel wanted to laugh at the chocolate on the side of your mouth as you tilted the pastry toward him. He restrained himself from reaching up and wiping it from your mouth, but you beat him to it by using your knuckle to wipe it off. 

“Compliments to the chef.” You tease, wiggling your eyebrows. 

He couldn’t help but admire your playful side, ecstatic that you agreed to go out with him. 

“Anythin’ for you darlin’,” he said, and you left the bakery that day with a smile on your face that you couldn’t wipe. 

That night, you found yourself pacing back and forth in your apartment as you chewed on your bottom lip. Your phone was clutched in your hand, keypad open and ready to dial. Your other hand had the empty coffee cup with his name and number. 

You didn’t know why you were battling this in your head. Is it weird? Is it too late to call him? No—No, it’s not weird. He’s the one who asked you out, after all. 

Fuck it. 

You sighed as you dialed the number on the cup, pressing the phone up to your ear. Within seconds, Joel’s deep voice rang through the other line. 

“Hello?” He sounded a bit tired, voice hoarse from what had to be a long day. 

“Hey Mr. Bakery Man,” you said in hopes of lifting his spirits even in the slightest. 

His deep chuckle that sounded through the receiver had a warmth blooming in your chest. Even his laugh alone made you feel good inside—like a cup of hot cocoa in your hands on a cold night while you’re in your pajamas sitting fireside. 

Did it sound kind of insane? Sure. Did you care? No. 

The feelings you’d felt toward him almost blindsided you, but something in your gut told you that Joel would be a constant in your life from here on out. 

“Hey darlin’. How’s your day been?” He asks. 

“Good, good,” you pause for a moment, “So about that date…” 

“I was thinkin’ some dinner? Friday night at seven?” 

“That’s perfect. I can’t wait.” 

-

Friday night rolled around, and Joel was kicking himself for not exactly having a plan B. For some reason, the reservations he made got mixed up and you couldn’t be seated. 

You assured him that it was okay, and that his presence was enough for you to enjoy yourself. 

You both decided to get some pasta to-go and eat your food at a park nearby. Even though you both were dressed to the nines and didn’t exactly blend in, you couldn’t care less. You were enjoying your time with him and getting to know the amazing man that he is. 

He opened up and talked about how Sarah and Ellie were both his pride and joy, how he had Sarah really young and adopted Ellie later on, how he sometimes helped his brother Tommy in the contracting business, and how he’s loved to bake in the kitchen with his mom ever since he was a young boy. 

“Didn’t really think I’d make a career out of it,” he confesses. 

“Looks like it worked out for you really well though,” you nudge his side gently. You were settled onto a bench with him then, closer to each other than anticipated. Neither of you said a word, though. 

Being by Joel’s side radiated nothing but safety and comfort. It felt natural, like you two were meant to find your way to each other. 

“Guess so. ‘S funny though. I meet new people every day because of the bakery and, forgive me ‘f this is too bold to say, but meeting you has completely thrown me off my game,” he chuckles, and you furrow your brows. 

“What do you mean?” You try not to feign hurt in your tone, but he wraps his arm around your shoulders and brings you into his warm body. You’re engulfed in his scent, and you could stay here forever, you thought to yourself. 

“Don’t mean it as a bad thing, sweetheart. I mean you’ve been on my mind constantly, and truth be told, I didn’t think you’d ever agree to go on this date with me. ‘M not really one to put myself out there and go on dates, but somethin’ about you made me want to get to know ya more,” he explained, and you nodded your head in understanding. 

“I get it. I didn’t know what to expect when I moved out here. I always buried myself in work and didn’t pay much attention to dating someone, but I’d like to say this turn of events has been pleasant.” 

He can’t help but grin foolishly at your words. 

“‘M glad it worked out this way too. Y’know my girls pushed me to ask you out? Not that I didn’t want to in the first place, but ‘m… not very good at this,” he waves his hand to the side.  

You could easily picture Sarah and Ellie giving Joel a hard time, hounding him to ask you out. 

“Your girls know what’s best,” you tease, and he can’t help but let out a hearty laugh. “But you’re doing just fine, Mr. Miller. I promise.” 

“Even if I goofed and our reservation got messed up?” 

“Joel, I wouldn’t care if you took me to Whataburger for a date. It’s the company that matters,” you say, and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush. 

“Where have you been all my life?” His question sounded like it was meant to be directed just to himself, but you leaned in and gave his cheek a kiss. 

“Probably in New York City,” you shrugged. 

“You and your sarcasm,” he said, shoulders shaking from laughing. 

“Hey, you’re the one who asked me out. That’s on you,” and Joel couldn’t help the pride that bloomed within his chest. 

“Sure did. What do ya say? Wanna head back to the bakery for a cup of coffee and croissant?” 

“What, like a nightcap, but sweet?” You grinned, and he nods. 

“Somethin’ like that.” 

“I’d love to.” 

Joel offered you his arm and you wrapped your hand around his bicep, staying close to him as you both walked back to his truck. 

It didn’t take long to get back to the bakery. Joel made you some coffee with creamer and sugar while he drank his black. He made you a croissant too as promised, and you couldn’t help but gush to him about how you loved his baking. You’d tried a few other things off the menu since you started coming into the shop, but the croissants were what stole your heart. 

You and him sat there for what seemed like hours just talking and getting to know each other on a deeper level. You told him about your family, your dreams and aspirations, what made you want to become a journalist, and what drove you to reach your goals. 

He loved that you were so ambitious—he didn’t come across too many people these days that seemed to know exactly what they wanted in life. You impressed him, and as he sat across from you listening to you talk about work, he knew you were the woman for him. 

He would’ve deemed himself crazy not even a few months ago for thinking such a thing, but hell, if you know you know. 

So the months passed by, and you two became inseparable.

Both of you didn’t think you’d meet someone like this, let alone someone you both could see sharing a life with. This man, all kind hearted and selfless and a big teddy bear who treated you like a goddess, was the man that swept you off your feet and made you see that work isn’t everything life had to offer. 

You took that leap of faith to move to Austin, not knowing the outcome it would have. But, you sure as hell were so glad that it happened. That this thing with Joel happened. You were decently happy with your life before you met him and let him in, but now, you felt as if you’d been on cloud nine for months. 

You were helping Joel close up the bakery one Sunday evening when he turned to you and confessed that he loved you, and he couldn’t imagine his life without you. Neither could the girls. You’d changed him for the better, even if it hadn’t even been a year of knowing each other. 

You’d said it right back to him, and with flour still lingering on his hands, he’d grabbed your face and kissed you like you were the air his lungs needed, the blood to keep his heart pumping, and his god-given solace. 

And you thought, this was exactly where you were meant to be—safe in his arms, full of love, with a whole lifetime with him to look forward to. 

He was it for you. You'd won the heart of the charming Southern gentleman—your Mr. Bakery Man. 

dividers by @saradika-graphics

p.s. sorry if this sucked i’m genuinely so rusty w writing rn. thanks for understanding <3

[chunghasweetie]

𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄 | J.JK

— pairing | fem!oc x tattoo artist!jjk

— summary | jungkook’s still closing up after a long day of work. she went to his shop right after work and she was drained. luckily jungkook was just the right one to cheer her up

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

unprotected sex, cursing, praising, just sex lol

— word count | 1.3k words

— song suggestion | put it on me — austin mahone

Jungkook had been working at the shop all day. All sorts of clients going in and out of his shop.

His employees had already gone home a while ago. He was still closing up for the night.

He was exhausted and drained. He just wanted to see his girl, though she had never left his mind through his shift.

The clock had just struck 12pm and JK’s Ink Lounge had finally closed up for the night. It was late, and she was barely getting off work around the same time as well.

He hadn’t seen her since last night because of their busy schedules.

She was a nurse and would work insane hours at the clinic. The two hadn’t had a work break in quite some time.

A knock was heard on the locked door of the shop. “We’re closed!” Jungkook called out before looking at the door, realizing it was actually his girlfriend, not a customer.

“Oh shit.” He cursed to himself, getting out and unlocking the door for her.

Jungkook's face lights up when he sees her enter his shop.

“Sorry baby. I forgot my key.” She apologized, pecking her boyfriend’s lips.

“It’s okay beautiful. What made you come here? Aren’t you tired? I thought you were at home.” He asked her, a hint of concern in his voice.

“Wanted to see my boo.” She hummed. “Never get to really see you anymore.”

He exhaled, “Yeah I know.”

“I got dropped tonight so I thought my lovely boyfriend would pick us up dinner on the way home.” She fluttered her lashes cutely.

“Anything for my baby.”

“I’ll help you close. Just do your online stuff and I’ll clean.” Y/n walked to the front desk, setting her purse down.

“No no baby.” Jungkook stopped her. “You gotta be tired Y/n. I don’t want to do that to you.”

“It’s not that bad baby.” She chuckled, grabbing some cleaning products to properly prep the studio. “I want to help you.”

Y/n could almost run the studio on her own. She knew everything and was more than willing to help her man out.

“You’re so amazing.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll hurry.”

“No rush.” She shook her head, getting straight to cleaning.

The two worked on the closing duties, making sure every part of the studio was ready for tomorrow.

“How was work today baby?”

“It was okay.” Y/n shrugged. “I’m so drained.” She complained, taking a seat on his lap.

Jungkook immediately notices her drained expression, and his face falls. He pulls her into a tight hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "What happened, mama?"

“Short staffed again so I was kinda irritated.” She sighed.

He sighs softly, understanding her fatigue all too well. "You know I'm here for you, mama. Always."

His thumb gently strokes the side of her face, trying to ease her stress. "Why don't you let me take care of you for once?"

“Mm no. It’s my job to take care of you.” She protested.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head at her stubbornness. "That's my job, mama. You're too tired to argue, and I can tell you need some pampering."

“You’re so hard working baby. You’re better than me because you can take so much.” He hummed. “Sorry about your day baby.”

His thumb gently traces the outline her lips, before gently kissing them. "Let me take care of you tonight.

“Please.” She gave in, “I need it.”

"You're too beautiful to say no to." He carries her to a guest futon and sits down with her, his arm around her waist as he kisses her once again.

He groans softly, kissing her deeper and harder as his hands begin to roam her body.

"You know what I'm thinking about, pretty?" He whispers into her ear, his lips brushing against it. "I can't wait much longer. I was fucking trying to wait until we got home but— shit I can’t.”

“So fucking pretty” He whispered.

He begins to undress her, kissing every exposed inch of skin.

“Been wanting this for so long.” She spoke, “We never have time anymore.”

He groans as he hears that, his hands cupping her ass as he her you closer to him.

"Fuck I know pretty. I've wanted it just as bad you have no idea.” He lifts her up and positions himself before lowering her onto him.

“Haven’t seen you in so long.” She mumbled. “Haven’t touched you in forever.”

He nods in agreement as he thrusts up in her. "I know, baby. I've missed this too." His hands roam her body, touching every inch of it as he whispers sweet things to her.

"I love you, mama. You're so fucking beautiful." He croaked out.

His hands travel down her body and between her legs, rubbing her in just the right spot as he watches her with lust-filled eyes.

“Mm” She hummed.

Jungkook’s eyes darken at her soft moans as he leans in closer. "Do you want me to fuck you now, baby?"

He whispers hotly in your ear before nipping at her earlobe. "Because I want to fuck you so fucking bad right now. Just say the word.”

“Jungkook please. Want this so bad.” She whimpered

He growls at her whines, pulling out of her before flipping her over and pushing back into her. "Like this, baby?"

His hips piston in and out of her as he holds onto her hips, tugging her back into him as he thrusts forward.

“Fuck Jungkook— yes.”

He smirks as he listens to her pleas for more.

"Yes, baby?" He leans over her, his chest pressed against her back. "Do you like it when I fuck you rough?"

He moans at her words, his thrusts getting faster and harder. "Yeah, baby. You like when I fuck you rough like this hm? You're such a good girl for me."

He bites down on her shoulder as he reaches around and starts rubbing her clit. “So good for me.”

He smirks against her skin, feeling her getting closer to her release.

"That's right, baby. Cum for me. I wanna hear you scream my name." He thrusts into her a few more times before reaching down and starting to rub her clit furiously.

Her legs were shaking and her body was reacting all too well to his touch.

Jungkook was reaching his orgasm as well, trying to chase it with hers.

“Fuck I’m cumming.” She whined.

He groans at her words, feeling himself getting closer to his own release. "Yeah, baby. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock."

He thrusts into her as hard as he can, triggering her orgasm. "Fuck” Jungkook cursed.

“Feels so good— shit” she whimpered.

He growls at her words, feeling himself getting even closer to his release. "Yeah? Mm gonna cum all inside this pussy."

He thrusts into her a few more times before he couldn't take it anymore and cums inside her with a loud groan, filling her up.

“Shitttt” She panted, looking at how messy her pussy was because of them.

He pants hard, his forehead resting against hers as he tries to catch his breath. "Damn, baby. You felt so fucking good."

He smirks and kisses her lips gently. "Thank you, you always let me fuck you so good."

“Anything for you my love.” She giggled. “I can’t believe we had sex in here again.”

He lets out a chuckle, kissing her forehead. "Yeah, I know. I can't help it though. Everytime you walk in here I know I’m done for."

He smirks and kisses her again. "You always make me so excited.”

“You’re just lucky I can’t resist.” She laughed. “Let’s clean now so we can go get food. I’m fucking starving.”

He nods. "Yeah, let's clean up. My stomach is killing me." He pulls out of you and helps clean her up.

“I’m not done with you once we’re home.” He mumbled. “Once that food in my system I’m ready to go.”

“You can’t be serious.” She laughed.

[sunrizef1]

Austin Orange

Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader

summary: Daniel’s obsession with Austin goes even farther than just the city.

A/n: finished this at 1 am lmao

——————————————————————

yourusername

Austin, Texas 📍

liked by danielricciardo yourbsf and 12,762 others

yourusername hook’em 🐮🧡

load comments …

user1 I love her

user2 slayyy

user3 is she from Austin?

↳ user4 I think she’s from somewhere in east Texas, he family owns a ranch near Austin tho

user5 Daniel in the likes??? 😭

user6 Danny ric????

user7 you guys are late Danny’s been in this girls like for a loooong time

user8 😍

user9 r we gonna get farm content???

danielricciardo 😍

↳ user10 get outta here

↳ user8 I commented this too ur not special

↳ user2 a man…

danielricciardo

Austin, tx 📍

liked by landonorris Mclaren and 1,098,345 others

danielricciardo horns up 🤠

load comments …

landonoriss 🐮

user11 I <3 cowboy daniel

user12 Texas is my fav

user13 I recognize that hat shop…

user14 funniest thing is Daniel didn't even go to UT 😭

user15 this looks similar to a certain cow-girls post…

↳ user16 girl what

↳ user17 @/yourusername just posted and it was like these same pics

↳ user18 and Daniel even liked it lmao

↳ user19 not even trying to hide it lol

redbullracing 🐂

user20 does he understand college football???

user21 🐄🤠🧡

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo yourbsf and 38,422 others

yourusername god bless texas 🧡

load comments …

user22 where is heeeee

user23 the cow 🥹

user24 ranch content!

user25 I thought cowgirls were just in movies…

user26 liked by danielricciardo

user27 what’s the animals names?

↳ yourusername the cow is named Cheeto and the horse is named Billy <3

↳ user28 CHEETO?? 😭

danielricciardo 👋

↳ yourusername 👋

user29 YALL SEEING THIS?

user30 she responded!!!!

user31 so they’re in love now

user32 I wanna be a farm girlie 🥲

yourusername added to their story

yourbsf

↳ wonder who took that picture 🤔

yourusername

↳ 😒

danielricciardo added to their story

landonorris

↳ 👀 did you get a certain Texan to show you around???

danielricciardo

↳ mate.

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

danielricciardo

Liked by maxverstappen landonorris and 1,209,301 others

danielricciardo 🧡

load comments …

user33 sorry???

user34 🧑‍🦯 I do not see

user35 IS THAT Y/N????

user36 ewww

user37 CHEETO???

user38 no cuz you guys don’t get it, y/n had used the orange heart for forever and now Daniel is posting it after he finally got to meet her my heart can’t take it

landonorris 💋💋💋

↳ danielricciardo shut up

user39 that better be y/n or so help me god

user40 lando?? 😭

yourbsf 👀

liked by danielricciardo

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo landonorris and 112,332 others

yourusername she’s country

load comments …

user41 danielllll

user42 that’s Daniel if I’ve ever seen him

user43 billyyyyy

↳ user44 the true star

landonorris hey

↳ danielricciardo ???

user45 she’s so bae

user46 when she’s from Texas >

user47 I still don’t like her

↳ yourbsf girl stfu he won’t pick you

liked by yourusername

user48 liked by danielricciardo

user49 I’m in love with them both

user50 I don’t think that’s Daniel 🤷‍♀️

↳ user51 girl where else would Danny get a cow from

yourusername added to their story

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo yourbsf and 506,321 others

yourusername he’s new around here 🧡

load comments …

user52 oh god they’re like sickeningly sweet

user54 YEAHHHHH

user55 Daniel Ricciardo school of manifestation

user56 THIS IS WHAT WEVE BEEN WANTING

user57 couple of the year I fear

danielricciardo my lady 🧡

↳ yourusername my cowboy 🧡

↳ user58 AWWWWW

user59 sobbing

landonorris 🤠💋

liked by yourusername

user60 I’m in love with both of them

user61 fav couple

[itsharleystuff]

↳ I. 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘓𝘋 𝘊𝘓𝘈𝘚𝘚 𝘚𝘐𝘕𝘕𝘌𝘙

Gif not mine! | Read part two here.

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!fem reader (no outbreak au)

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After two years of absence and finally graduating college, it’s time you go back to Texas; to come home with your dad. But the prospect of facing the Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend and your secret crush, has your mind scattered.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), smoking, alcohol consumption, age gap (reader is twenty four, Joel is late forties), oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, spitting, mentions of masturbation, pet-names (sweetheart, darling), moral conflict, semi-public sex, slight dirty talk, pussy-drunk Joel, no use of y/n. I think that’s it, let me know if I missed something:)

— a/n: I honestly have tons of ideas for this particular universe, so I might make more parts if y’all like it<3 btw, reader is a fashion designer in this. Thought it might be important to mention, lol.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

You had never met him before. Not in person, at the very least.

Up until a while ago, you'd only seen him in the pictures your dad kept hanging around the house. And he had plenty of those: both of them in college, a road-trip with other friends or even after a hunt. Of course, you'd heard a lot about him too, but whenever you visited Texas your dad would dedicate his whole days to you exclusively. No time to visit his best friend-slash-neighbor, despite all the opportunities presented.

So the first time you ever saw him face to face was two years ago, in a Fourth of July barbecue he hosted.

Joel Miller.

Joel mother-fucking Miller.

Tall, broad, rugged looking, moody and with a seemingly stern exterior. An absolute dilf.

You always found him rather appealing— nothing but a silly little thought from whenever you would stare at the photographs. But meeting him personally was a whole eye-opening experience, like getting glasses after discovering you’ve had astigmatism your entire life.

"He liked you, y'know?" your dad had told you the next day. "Joel isn't usually that nice."

"Maybe it's because I'm your daughter," you joked. "I bet that helped with my impression."

"No," said him, laughing and shaking his head, "it was something else."

You didn't interrogate him on the matter. Whatever it was, you sure were glad to be in his grace.

That summer you saw a lot of him— specially since it was the longest you had spent in Austin ever since your mom passed away. You were twenty two at the time, right in the middle of your college studies. But the amazing thing about Joel was that he never made you feel patronized, neither did he treat you like you had to fit in the 'best friend's daughter' box. He was nice and made you feel comfortable in all ways possible.

Frankly, deep down you wanted him to be an asshole. If that were the case, you could've had the perfect excuse to push him away. Instead, your crush simply grew stronger.

Because, fucking hell, the man was hot in a striking, yet brooding manner. Joel Miller was attractive in the way a man is supposed to be attractive. Which was quite a contrast compared to the boys that usually neared you, who had no sense of themselves and were always fooling around with no idea what they were doing.

It was so bad that even now, after two years without seeing him —or your dad, for that matter— you feel anxious and eager at the thought of a reunion.

You're now officially graduated, and after a lifetime of traveling the states to visit both your parents, added to four years of college in New York, it's finally time to settle down for a while. To move in with your dad and make up for the lost time.

"Are you really going to stay in Texas?" Sophie, your best friend, asked through the phone speaker. "After all these years in the big city?"

"Yeah, I ought to stay with him. After all, we're the only family we've got," you replied, staring out the window of the cab. "When I told him I was coming he got so excited, you should've heard him. He said he'd throw me a homecoming party, can you believe that? Who's even going to attend?"

You hear her giggle on the other side. "What about that Mr. Miller you always brag so much about?"

"What about him?" you wondered with half strained voice.

"Oh, don't play coy, honey," she mocks. "We both know how much you want him to give you a sweet old Texan welcome."

"I have no idea what that is," you respond, smiling.

"I just made it up. No idea what they do in the south. I'm from Brooklyn." Of course she made it up. "But I meant it's pretty obvious how much you want his head between your legs..."

"Okay, yeah- I get it." You interrupt, starting to see familiar houses from your dad's neighborhood. "You're right. But he's... Righteous. Apparently."

"Sweetie, let's be honest," Sophie talks softly, "no man is righteous. Just show them a bit of skin and they'll be wrapped around your finger forever."

"I'm not sure I-"

"Try it. And keep me updated," she mumbles hastily. "I've got to go now. I have an appointment with the Ralph Lauren executives in ten minutes."

"Treat them nicely, Sophie. Don't waste my recommendation letter," the girl laughs.

"Yeah, yeah... I'm serious about Miller, though. Be sure to wear something low-cut. Bye, bye!"

She hangs up right when you're outside the house; the one you knew so well and at the same time felt so unknown. The one where you spend each summer and occasional holiday in. Your childhood home. Oddly enough, the door is open but you can't see your dad anywhere near. You hoped he'd be around to help you with the luggage, though it didn't seem like it.

"Dad?" You call for him from the entrance, carrying both heavy suitcases. "Anyone here?!"

The faint noise of footsteps is barely audible before you see him leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed over his sturdy chest.

Breathtaking.

"M'not your old man but pretty sure I can help you with that," he says with that characteristic Texan drawl of his, gesturing towards your cases.

"But if it isn't Joel Miller in the flesh," he tilts his head with a faint smile, approaching your side. "You haven't aged a day since I last saw you."

It was true. Perhaps his skin looked a bit more tan, his hair somewhat longer and curlier, his beard starting to gray. But everything else remained the same. He smelled just like you remembered —fresh soap and musky cologne—, and still held onto the same mode choices: flannels, boots and dark jeans.

"Quite the opposite to ya," he says, taking both your suitcases from your hands. "I like your new hair."

"Are you implying I look old?" Joel grins smudgily.

"None of that, darlin'. I'd say mature." His words manage to make your pulse raise. "Shall I take this upstairs?"

"Yeah, I- I'll walk you to my room," he chuckles as he steps on the stairs. "What?"

The man shakes his head as he makes his way to the second floor, followed closely by you. Nothing about this house seemed different. Nevertheless, you felt different.

"Nothing. S'just..." he takes a deep breath, but changes the subject quickly. "Your dad went to the store to get some beers. He'll be back any second."

You nod, opening the door to your dorm. It was exactly the same as it was two years ago, simply tidier and with a poster that read 'welcome home and happy graduation' in messy, colorful handwriting over your bed.

"He made that himself. Though, I've gotta say, I'm glad he didn't pursue an artistic career." You both laugh at the comment.

"A for effort." Joel sets your luggage next to the doorframe, being monitored by your keen eye. "Will I see you tonight? I know you're not a big fan of social gatherings."

"Your dad'll kill me if I'm not. He's got me here since ten o'clock to help him out." You look up at him, feeling vaguely nostalgic when watching your surroundings. "But I'm also hoping we'll catch up. I'd like to hear all about your adventures in the big city, aight?"

"Oh, I'm not sure you'd like that," you retort. "I'm afraid you'll see a side of me you might disapprove of."

Joel's brows shot up in a cocky expression. "And here we were all thinking you were such a nice girl. Forget 'bout me, sweetheart. Your old man would drop dead if he gets the news."

You can't hold back the smirk that spreads across your face as you look him dead in the eye. Truth be told, you had wished for him to change, in any sort of way. Maybe if he had gotten a couple more wrinkles or grey hairs you'd be able to not find him attractive anymore. But age suited Joel. Maybe if he stopped being so warm to you, so kind, it might be able to fade away.

'Righteous', you'd called him.

But he isn't so much. No man ever is.

In your last visit you weren't bold enough with him, but each time you'd say something slightly suspicious, every occasional brush or brief skin to skin contact during a shared moment, had an effect on him. He reacted to you, even if he thought you wouldn't know. Sure, he was well restrained and you probably wouldn't have noticed if you weren't actually looking for any signs. That didn’t change the facts, anyway.

"I've never really been much of a nice girl, to be honest," you retaliate, dragging the words. "But I bet you can keep a secret, can't you?"

Something in your voice causes him to unconsciously stop breathing. His brows knit together and it takes him a second to regain composure. However, he doesn't get to say a thing, your dad's voice suddenly floating from the floor beneath.

With your blood rushing, you practically flee downstairs, seeing his face change completely at the sight of his beloved daughter.

"You're here early, what the heck?" The man mumbles with a kindhearted smile, embracing you in a tight hug.

"Figured I might surprise you." The boxes of beer he bought were quickly discarded when he saw you. "So, are you surprised?"

"Very. But I was supposed to pick you up at the airport. Did you take a cab?"

"Don't worry about that," you reassure with a gesture. "It was included in the airport bill."

"Oh, man..." your dad turns to see his friend, "you leavin' already?"

"I have to pick up Sarah," he explains, peeking at his watch. "She had soccer practice today."

"Can I expect to see her later, too?"

Joel nods at your question, faintly beaming. "F'course. She loves you."

⩇⩇:⩇⩇✧˖°

Shortly after Miller's departure your dad sent you off to bed, arguing that you were probably tired. And even if you wanted to stay and chat with him for a while, you had to admit he wasn't mistaken. Either way, you still had the rest of the day —and plenty more ahead— to do that. Besides, he still needed to sort some things out before the party.

So, without unpacking or undoing your bed, you slept for hours, dreaming about how your new life was going to be.

(...)

When you finally woke up, night had already fallen. Your dad mustn't have wanted to wake you, but it made you feel in a rush to get ready. You took a cold shower and kept your makeup neutral in order to be quick. Furthermore, Sophie's advice to wear something low-cut was taken under consideration.

Judging by the noise coming from the backyard, you guessed the guests had already started to arrive. You heard talking and music, aside from smelling the hamburgers your dad was preparing. There were kids running around and a couple of people chatting in the living room when you entered, setting all eyes on you.

You knew most of them, neighbors and friends of your dad's. They immediately monopolized your attention, asking questions regarding your career life, reasons why you chose your major and saying how much your dad loved and missed you. It wasn't bad, you liked the courtesy and praise; nonetheless, in the back of your mind you were solely expecting the Millers' arrival.

After a while, you excuse yourself and decide to join your dad outside, stepping onto the fresh air.

"How's everything here?" you ask friendly. "Need any help?"

He was surrounded by some other of his pals, all of whom you'd met in your last visit, except for one– still, you couldn't help but think that he had a familiar air.

"We're alright, honey." You greet them all with a smile as your dad hooks an arm over your shoulders, offering a beer that you decided to decline.

"My niece was right," said the man you didn't know. "You're quite beautiful." He spoke subtly and on the right lines, giving you a affectionate smile. 

"Ah- I don't believe you've met Tommy," your dad chimed in. "He's Joel's younger brother."

"Oh, yeah..." you remembered, "he mentioned you last time I came. It's nice to finally meet you."

Now that you saw him up-close, he did resemble his brother in a certain way. There was something very emblematic that all the Millers had, a sparkle in their eyes that you picked-up on Sarah, but that enchanted you in—

"Speak of the devil..." your head jerked to the side, watching as your most expected guests come to join you.

"My goodness!" you speak in surprise, sharing a hug with Joel's daughter. "You've grown so much in the last two years... You're even taller than me now and I'm wearing heels." The girl giggles, charming as always. "Didn't you just turn seventeen?"

"A month ago," she answers. "But let's not talk about that, it makes dad feel old."

"Joel?" You look behind her, locking glances with him. "But he's in his prime!" he rolls his eyes sardonically.

"Come on, sunshine," Tommy says, "you know it's not polite to make fun of the elderly."

They laugh and you can vaguely hear your dad scolding him, but don't really pay attention to it as they go back to their conversation. In the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of his smile.

He looked handsome. To you, he always did. Tonight, however, he decided to change the flannels for an olive button up shirt and a black leather jacket. His curls seemed carefully styled and he smelled of sandalwood.

"By the way," you address Sarah, "I brought you something from New York. It's one of my designs..."

"Seriously?" Her whole face lit up at your words. "You know how much I love your work!"

"Yeah, thought you might like it. But I'll give it tomorrow. I haven't unpacked and my things are real a mess."

"That reminds me." The girl turns to Joel. "Did you bring it?" he nods and takes a small box from the pocket of his jacket, handing it to her.

"What's that?" you question out of curiosity.

"I got you a lil' present," Sarah answered.

"You, did what?" Joel countered with a reproachful tone.

"I mean- I chose a present..." the man clears his throat and she rolls her eyes. "We chose a present, which he payed for. Buuut, it was my idea so-"

His dad snorts and shakes his head, turning to chat with the rest of the men. The younger one drags you away to have some privacy, taking a solitary spot under the big apple tree. During your conversation, you discuss the details of your so called 'highlife' and open the tiny box they gifted, finding a shiny ring sitting on the bottom.

"Do you like it?" You grin and nod in response, deciding to put it on in that same instant. "Dad noticed you like wearing lots of rings.”

Joel noticed.

"I love it," you remark. "Thank you. Both."

Your eyes drift to the crowd gathered around the grill, men laughing and sharing beers. The surprising part was that when you finally found your target, he was already staring at you. If he was expecting you to notice or not, there was no sign. But the older one held your lingering glance and everything else seemed to fade away, suddenly becoming white noise in the background. There was a challenging fire behind his brown orbs, kind of like he was saying 'I know what you're doing and I can do it too'.

"So," you turn back to Sarah with a strange, thrilling sensation in the pit of your stomach, "what's up with you? How's high school?"

"Boring. You know the drill."

"And the boys?" she almost looks flustered at the question.

"Complicated. Bet you know all ‘bout that." Your brows furrow slightly.

"What gave you that idea?"

"Just an impression," her fingers fidget nervously.

You shrug, deciding to change the subject. "You're graduating soon... Have you decided on any universities yet?"

"Not quite," she sighs. "I'm worried about my dad, really. I don't want him to feel alone if I move out."

A sly smile parts your lips. "He won't be. There's my dad, your uncle and... Me. I'll make him a Tinder profile. He'll be fine."

Sarah chuckles and shakes her head. "He talks about you, y'know?"

"What, Joel?" you ask in a sarcastic tone, cocking an eyebrow at her. "Hard to believe."

"It's true! I think he admires you, in a way..."

With a hand gesture, you stop her. "Are we talking about the same man here?"

"Ask him. He might deny it, but it's often your name is brought up in conversations," she unfolds. "When you got that internship in Ralph Lauren, the articles you've written, magazines you've appeared in..."

"It sounds extremely rare for someone like your dad would be interested in the fashion industry. Even if it's just for me, cause I'm certain my own dad is the one forcing all this information onto him."

"Maybe," Sarah agrees. "Whatever it may be, I'm sure he'll be alright if you're around. At least happy, I think."

⩇⩇:⩇⩇✧˖°

The kitchen was a good shelter from all the gossip and noisy kids that turned out to be overwhelming after some time. No one came in there unless they needed to; and as of now they all seemed more concerned with other sorts of business. Besides, it was pretty late and most people had already headed home.

A bottle of wine was opened and poured into a glass, accompanied by a Marlboro cigarette from the depths of your purse, enjoying them while watching the night sky through the window. All your mind could think about was him and his odd behavior: Joel picking up on details, Joel talking about you with Sarah. Him. Just him.

"Am I interrupting somethin'?" you shake your head without looking back, recognizing his voice.

He walks over to you silently. The man is somehow very silent for someone so big, to the point where you didn't even listen when he opened the door. He leans against the counter, his body so close to yours that you can feel his warmth even if you're not seeing him.

"Want some?" you ask, raising your half-empty glass of red liquid and whipping your body to face him, standing shoulder to shoulder, closing the curtain in the meantime.

"Thanks," he mutters, showing his can of beer, “m'not that fancy." You titter, taking a short drag from the dart. "I'll have one of those, if you can spare."

With the fag between your teeth, you take the pack of smokes from your bag and hand it to him, shooting an inquiry expression.

"What?" he asks with an arrogant beam.

"Nothing..." your voice comes out weird from holding back laughter as you take the lighter in your fist. "I just didn't know you smoked."

He takes one to his lips, keeping close eye contact with you all the while. The action sends a rush of excitement throughout your whole body as you duck forward to burn the unlit end, staring back at him with hooded eyes.

"I rarely do," he admits, setting the package aside.

If he wasn't hot enough already, the practiced mannerisms he had when smoking simply added to his sultriness.

"Why you hiding?" you wonder, ashing the cigarette over the sink.

"Not hidin'. Just sent Sarah home, but I wanted to catch you before leavin'."

It didn't surprise you, they lived across the street and, after all, he did say he wanted to talk.

"Did I mention how handsome you look today?" He sneers shortly.

"Well, my daughter was very clear 'bout not wanting me to wear flannels around a fashion designer." Joel takes a sip from his drink, holding the cig between his fingers.

"She gives me too much credit," you say, a bit embarrassed.

"You deserve it," the man replies grimly. "And you look absolutely beautiful, too. One of yours?"

His eyes briefly set on your chest, for such a short second that you actually believed you had probably imagined it. The dress you chose for the occasion was one of your first designs; pearl colored, cinched from the waist above and slightly loose over your thighs.

"Yes," you gulp, diverting your gaze to the glass on your hand. "So how's everything 'round here?" Joel shrugs his shoulders with indifference. 

"'S alright. Same as always," he meditates on it. "Boring without you to keep us entertained."

You utter a mocking snort. "Do my silly little experiences really entertain you?"

The older one tilts his head to blow some smoke. "You always talk so freely about your dreams and the goals you've accomplished. And your dad's enthusiasm is contagious, I might say." He licks his bottom lip, thinking. "I don't know... I'm glad someone close is doing all 'at. Feels like you ain't afraid of anything."

His words put a bright smile on your face. "Life's a risk, isn't it? Better be bold if you want to end up somewhere."

He huffs a laugh, nodding in agreement. A comfortable silence veils between you as you enjoy the alcohol and cigarettes. It was always nice to hang out with him like this.

"By the way, how are you holding up?" the question clasps his curiosity. "Parenting a teenager can be quite difficult, I've heard."

"Jesus," he grunts, "it's driving me insane. Not her per say, but the whole 'boy talk' 's just too much."

"I bet," you chortle, "although, I wouldn't worry too much. It's just a phase." 

"Yeah?" Joel scoffs. "You gon' tell me you ain't got tons of guys chasing around ya' anymore?"

"Oh, they're there," your tone matches his energy. "All these old ladies kept trying to introduce me to their sons a couple hours ago. Nevertheless, I gotta say..." He leaves the empty can on the bar across him. "Boys make me sick."

His eyes widen in surprise, but the rest of his face remained in composure. "How so?"

The atmosphere swiftly changes, a kind of heated tension rising to the top, palpable in your fingertips and waving in his chest.

"I've had my fair share of them," you explain playfully. "Guys my age never know what they want or what they're doing. I've decided to change my focus to men, instead."

He knows what you're up to. You can tell he does.

The question is: will he take the bait?

"Meaning?" Joel's lips curve around the orange filter in a smug smirk. You jerk your head to the right, setting the glass of wine aside.

"I'm not sure..." he laughs dryly at your hesitation.

"I think you are, sweetheart."

The abiding silence that followed that statement was nothing but electrifying. Clouds of burning tobacco linger around as you share an intense gaze, creating a solemn, intriguing ambience.

"Well, how am I supposed to tell you, out of all people, that I'm looking to get attended by an older man?" you rag. "Don't you think it's inappropriate?"

"Mhm," his grin is still visible under the dim, warm lights in the kitchen, "clever girl. I see what you're tryin' to do."

"I don't know what you mean," you murmur, scowling and intending to sound clueless.

He doesn't buy it.

"No-uh. You're many things, darlin', but dumb isn't one." He leans forward, his face barely inches away from yours, eyes scanning your features. Eventually, he decides to keep playing your little game. "Why's that, anyway?"

"See, Joel," you blow some smoke right under his nose, "boys I've been with always take. Everything's gotta be about themselves. I've never been the type to believe in relationships, but if they're gonna suck at that too, the least they could do is make you cum, not leave you drier than a fucking desert." Your words daze his mind and he finds himself pending for something that he wasn't supposed to. "Shit- I'm sorry... I shouldn't talk like this."

"Damn right you shouldn't," he rasps out, "what would your dad think if he heard you?"

Joel Miller never considered himself a weak man. Not once in his life. It's not who he is.

But right now, under your curious, passionate gape, he's slowly crumbling.

"Good thing you aren't my dad, then."

His heart is pounding in expectation and confusion. He keeps thinking 'this can't be happening'. He tries to convince himself that it's all in his mind, like he did last time you were in Austin. But you bat your pretty eyelashes at him an it feels like you're begging to be taken away.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you know what you're asking for," he talks strictly, like you wouldn't actually understand. "Say this things to the wrong person and they might take advantage of you."

You laugh under your breath. "Are you the wrong person?"

He remains silent for a couple seconds, contemplating your question, meditating this whole parade in order to keep his head cold and ignoring the increasing heat that soared all around.

"M'not sure," he huffs.

It's true. He doesn't know anymore.

Your cig has burned out.

"I think you are, Mr. Miller."

Oh, such a clever girl indeed.

Suspense is killing him, like he's walking on the edge of a blade. Your closeness is intoxicating, the smell of your perfume gets him dizzy and his skin burned there where your limbs brushed against each other's. His lungs felt like crushing under the weight of anticipation.

"Quit beating around the bush," he downright demands. "Tell me what you want."

Honesty is a virtue; one you didn't lack with him.

"You," his chest puffs with a shaky breath. "Ever since we first met, you've been the only man on my mind."

Dangerous. This whole situation is dangerous.

But Joel would be lying if he said he didn't feel the same. That was the worst part of it.

For little more than a decade he had been perfectly content with his singleness; the sole thought of going on a date being absolutely terrifying. His best friend did try to set him up with a couple of his female acquaintances multiple times; yet he declined or merely accepted out of sympathy, never taking things further than a one night stand. Joel never expected that the one woman that would grasp his attention would be you.

He had never been into younger girls, at least not that young. But there was something enchanting about you. Whether it was your charming smile, your cunning eyes or your confident, determined nature that made all heads turn in your direction when you walked into a place.

Something about you bewitched him.

Perhaps it was none of that and he was simply depraved. Perhaps it was all of that and more.

For all he knew, you could've put a spell on him. Since your last visit, you had been on his mind like a mist that fogged his senses. He felt torn apart by his morals and desires, trying his best to get rid of the ghost of you.

That was until your dad told him you were coming back to stay for an undefined amount of time. What kind of sick game was fate playing with him?

"You tryin' to get me killed?" he locks a snarl behind his teeth.

His cigarette has burned out too.

"I know I'm asking for much," you say, "that I put you in a difficult position. With my dad and all 'at." Swallowing hard, you muster enough courage to raise a hand to his jacket, just laying your palm flat there. He allows it. "So I understand if you say no. You can decline and we’ll just act like nothing happened."

If Joel were a better man, he would've.

He definitely should have.

"It's okay. I can always call the next older lad on my hotline," you joke. "Your brother Tommy... I think he'll be interested."

He'd be damned.

No. Joel was just a man, and like every other, he could only take so much.

Quicker than you'd expect, his hand catches your wrist and moves your arm away from his body, the other raising your head up with two fingers under your chin. His face is so close to yours that his breath tickles your skin.

"Is that so?" his voice drops an octave. "You disappoint me, sweetheart."

Your legs quiver, feeling suddenly weak on the knees and hot on your lower abdomen. "How?"

His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip, staring down at you as if he had you wrapped around his finger. Truth be told, he really did.

"Thought there was a bit more fight in ya'," he whispers, letting go of your hand and laying his palm flat on your hip. "I haven't yet given my answer and you're already thinking of fucking my brother?"

You lick your lips nervously, glancing at his own and then back at his eyes. Your breathing pattern is completely altered and the ache between your legs starts to grow.

"Or was that just to tease me?" he asks with a grin.

"I don't know..." your hands clench in fists, wanting to touch him but wallowing in this new power dynamic. "Maybe."

"That's rather vague, darling." He takes a step forward, eradicating the distance that separated your bodies. "I'll ask again..." his fingers curl around your throat, not applying pressure but merely holding you in place. "What do you want?"

It's too late to look back now. Though you wouldn't think of it. "I want you to fuck me, Joel."

Music to his ears.

He doesn't respond, eyes boring into yours intently. The unholy words that you spoke scatter his brain and all he wants to do is accept. But he wouldn't indulge so easily. If you wanted to play games, he'd teach you how to play better.

You tilt your head upwards, searching for his mouth with limited mobility. Your eyes briefly close at the feeling of your lips barely brushing against his own, waiting for him to kiss you. Except he does not, simply caressing the soft flesh teasingly.

Joel's body is flushed against yours, keeping you caged between the counter and him. The hand that rested on your hip gradually travels to your ass, splaying his fingers over your covered butt and giving a firm squeeze that makes you squeal. Every breath he takes is the very air you breathe. The proximity and his scent are slowly —but surely— making you lose your sanity.

"Such a pretty girl," he mutters hoarsely, "with such filthy thoughts." You look at him through heavy lids, gaining enough courage to move your hands to his broad chest. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Please, just- kiss me." The plea is so desperate and pathetic that it doesn't even sound like you.

"Can't do," he says at last. "If you want to be treated like a slut, you'll get treated like one. Sluts don't get kissed." You feel yourself get wet with his attitude, trying to clench your thighs together in order to create some friction. "I can't give you what you want, sweetheart. Not tonight, at least."

His lips move to your jawline, tracing open-mouthed kisses along your bare neck and collarbones that have you panting in seconds, his facial hair scratching your skin deliciously before coming back up again.

"But don't worry, angel," he pours into the shell of your ear, "I'll make sure you cum, since you want it so bad."

"Fuck, Joel-" you stutter when he abruptly spins your body around, his growing bulge grinding against your lower back.

His face nuzzles on the crook of your neck as his hand roams over your thigh, leisurely making its way beneath your dress. You feel his teeth lightly scraping your flesh, the hardness of his crotch poking your ass and your own arousal pooling in your panties.

"Jesus..." he groans when his fingers reach the dampness between your legs. "I've barely touched you and you're already soaked."

"I meant it when-" your sentence gets muffled by a strangled moan that escapes your lips, "when I said I've been wanting you for so long."

His body vibrates with a laugh, ruffling your hair with his breath. He starts rubbing small circles on your clit, making your whole body shiver and squirm while he pushes the fabric aside, gathering your slick with his index and spreading it all the way back to your bud, repeating his actions until your arousal covered his knuckles.

"Wanna know a lil' secret?" his voice comes out soothing and husky as he eases two digits inside you, stretching you out in a way that makes both of you groan. "I felt the same."

His fingers are thicker, bigger and rougher than yours, adding to a new, unlocked satisfaction you had not yet experienced.

Joel took his time to explore the spots that provided more pleasure, that had your hips chasing him and biting your lip to refrain from making noise. His other hand gropes your breast, caressing your delicate nipple over the thin fabric, easily done due to the lack of a bra. He keeps altering his ministrations, collecting the wetness from your core and bringing it up to your bundle of nerves, prior to sliding into your cunt again. All that can be heard in the kitchen are the squelching, utterly pornographic sounds of your pussy and your pitiful whines, inaudible to everyone but him.

"You like this, sweetheart?" he hums, feeling your sticky arousal drip down your thighs, rejoicing in your responsiveness to him. "Being fingered by a man twice your age while your dad's just a few steps away?"

You squeeze his thick fingers, picturing just how big his cock must be just from the boner pressing your back. "Y-yes..."

He simply loves the way he's got you so needy, coming undone with so little. You were easy to please, so he wondered how awful your past lovers must've been if they couldn't get you wet. A primal instinct surges on Joel, wanting to erase all of them from your mind, as he wanted to be the only man you ever think about if you're having an orgasm.

"That's my girl," he coos, thrusting his fingers at a nice pace, curling them upwards to hit that soft spot that made your knees tremble.

You hold onto the counter for dear life, throwing your head back and laying it on his chest. He sighs every time your cunt tightens around his digits, mesmerized by your enticing cries and whimpers that had him painfully hard in his jeans. The sensation is overwhelming, adrenaline filling both of you at the prospect of getting caught.

A burning sensation builds on your lower belly, tiny beads of sweat rolling down your temple at the incoming crescendo. His thumb kneads over your clit with the right amount of pressure and your body gives in to him, all tension melting away as your muscles relax.

"Just like that, darling." His deep voice reverberates through you, holding you up by the grip on your waist. "Take what I give you."

"Joel, Joel, Joel-" he chuckles once again at your delirious state, biting down the sensitive skin on your neck as he helps you carry out your high.

He pulls his fingers out and you mewl in complaint, mouth slightly agape. You can't see his face but you watch as he takes both his sticky fingers to his mouth, your chest rising and falling while trying to regain composure. He licks them clean, savoring your sweet taste and feeling his cock twitch from the mere idea of his tongue exploring your folds, taking that same flavor straight from the source.

"I'm not done with you," he growls, swirling your body around.

He's fucked up now. He has found his own, favorite drug between your thighs and can’t seem to stop himself from getting it. He had a small taste and now craved for more like he was a famished man.

"Can I get a kiss now?" Joel finds your insistence amusing.

Those eyes of yours were driving him insane, staring at him wildly, sparkling with an etching desire. Your lips were plumped and glossy, cheeks flushed red and hands fisting his shirt. Seeing this side of you was like displaying one of his darkest fantasies, the kind that would randomly appear in his dreams and had him waking up guilty and needy.

"No," he grumbles, cupping your face in his hand and forcing you to glance up at him. "Open up."

You obligue without hesitation, parting your lips shamelessly— which further spurs him on—. Almost instinctively, you already know what he's going to do, catching that inquiring look in his darkened eyes. With a light tap to his chest, you give him the green light and he spits right into your mouth. You don't think about it twice; in fact, you can't even process what you're actually doing, unconsciously swallowing down while keeping eye contact.

"Good girl," he purrs, caressing the side of your face with gentle stokes of his thumb.

His voice and praise send you to oblivion, managing to give you goosebumps. But Joel won't allow you to catch a break, glueing his lips to the hollow of your throat and making his way down, down, down, until he's kneeling before you, feeling the way you tense and shake for him. He grips your body strongly, the pads of his thumbs dipping on your hipbones as he rests his forehead on your lower abdomen, taking a deep breath in. Your hands run through his curls, tenderly grazing his scalp with your nails. 

The man feels as if he's wasted; your scent, all around him, on him, intoxicating every fiber on his body. He'd be haunted by it, by you, in the upcoming days.

He reaches beneath the hem of your dress, fingers skating along the band of your panties and tugging them down at a tortuous pace, meanwhile his eyes pierce your soul. Joel lets the drenched underwear pool at your ankles and drags the thin, satiny fabric all the way up to your tummy, inhaling sharply at the sight of your sticky slick covering your inner thighs.

"Fuck..." he touches you like you're sacred, like he was granted permission to do so but couldn't fully believe it. "Jesus Christ, you're beautiful," he mumbles when he coaxes your legs apart.

You blush at the comment, growing partially embarrassed. A shadow of pure lust covers his gaze as he stares at your exposed, wet cunt. He basks in the view of your damp skin and swollen clit, feeling his mouth water and his pants strain.

"Joel-"

"Forgive me, darlin'. Been a while since I..." he clears his throat, trying to regain hold of himself, "since I went down on a woman."

Your fingers tangle on his locks and you give him a reassuring smile. "You don't have to-"

"But I want to," Joel blurts out. "I need to taste you, sweetheart. Would you allow me to?"

Did he even need to ask?

"Yes- god. Please..."

It's all he had to hear. He leaves small kisses on your swollen lips, taking pleasure in your silent gasps as his mouth inched closer to your clit. Your hips buck against his face when his tongue finally landed on that sensitive bundle of nerves, making you moan a bit louder.

"Fucking hell," you babble, gripping his hair tighter.

He groans, his tongue flattening above your delicate bud and sucking on it. Joel can see in your face how hard you're trying to refrain from making any noise, your brows slightly furrowed and mouth partially open as you throw your head back. His chest swells with pride, knowing he's the one making you feel this good.

Then you have to hold yourself up when he suddenly hooks one hand around your calf and lifts your leg, placing it over his shoulder to keep you open for him. His face buries between your thighs, tongue sliding across your wet folds and savoring your arousal mixed with your previous release. He uninhibitedly whimpers, lapping up the slick that kept pouring out of you, devouring your pussy like he had never had anything as good.

The man can't take it anymore, he's reached his limit. One of his hands snake down to fumble at his belt, as he sloppily palms his bulge through the briefs, trying to get some relief. He's drunk, feral, when he eats you out most earnestly, finding your weak spots rather quickly— the ones that made you shiver, that made you shut your eyes from sheer pleasure or grind against his face, but specially the ones that had you tugging harshly at his hair.

"Joel- please, I'm so close..." you cry out lowly, the only thing that kept you standing being his hand on your waist.

His beard makes your skin feel feverish and it's nearly impossible for you to hold back a whine when his nose grazes your clit and right in that instant you're coming hard, nerves buzzing and ears ringing. You feel lightheaded, white spots appearing in front of your eyes as the orgasm rips through you intensely. He drinks you down, licking you clean as if it was a crime not to, and you gasp at the overstimulation.

He helps you steady yourself as he gets back on his feet, hovering above you. His lips were shining with saliva and your own juices, dripping down to his chin. You breathe rapidly, pulse still racing while you look up at him with glassy eyes.

It's right in this moment when Joel knows for certain that he'd do it all again, consequences be damned.

If he was going to hell for what he'd done, then he would gladly do it, knowing that he had seen heaven the moment his tongue was inside you.

"Did I live up to your expectations, sweetheart?"

Instead of replying, your hand shoots to his jaw, the pad of your thumb brushing over his bottom lip. He lets out a shaky exhale and you don't miss the opportunity to finally lean in for a kiss. And despite his previous declines to your wish, Joel happily corresponded. You taste him and yourself when his mouth explores yours in depth, feeling his unsteady heartbeat against your own chest.

It's madness; a blur of wet, messy kisses as your hand coasts down his pants and underneath his briefs. You swallow down his lewd moans when you grasp his throbbing length, a deep groan coming from his throat when you circle the tip with one finger, coating it with his leaking precome. He takes your wrist to prevent you from going any further.

"Enough of that," he grunts, still not pushing your hand away. "I'm too worked up, I don't wanna be coming in my pants like a goddamned teenager."

You respect his decision, drawing your hand back and guiding your fingers to your lips with a cheeky smile. Fucking tease.

"I think it'd be hot," you murmur, dragging the words and leaning next to his ear. "Maybe afterwards I can help you clean up the mess..." you carefully nip at his earlobe, delighting in the way his body jumped and a sigh escaped him. "With my mou-"

"Fuuuck..." the mental image you were describing was not helping his situation. "We- we’ll do that next time.”

And before you can move a muscle, he gives you a soft forehead kiss and rearranges his pants, asking you to say goodbye to your dad in his behalf as he sneaked out. You stand there for a couple of minutes, dumbfounded and completely blown away from your post-orgasm bliss, still processing that all this had actually happened and it was not just another of your sexual fantasies and daydreams.

Joel was in a similar position. In spite of taking a cold shower and fucking his fist in the meantime, tonight's events kept being relived every time he closed his eyes, making him yearn for you all over again. It was a tough night of not much sleeping.

He thinks he might feel guilty in the morning.

Maybe he should. But he honestly doesn't.

Not even when he faces your dad the next day and he tells him how happy he is to have his darling daughter back home.

Nor do you. There's not a hint of guilt in your body when you go to his house in the next few days, solely to spend time with Sarah. No shame in the looks you share, regardless of the little to zero time you could spend together, always being surrounded by other people.

None of that mattered. All the while, the only question that roams your minds is: when will you do it again?

[rhaenella]

idk if ur reqs are open but im obsessed with ur account. i was wondering if u could do a smau of any driver (other than danny ric) x pbr!reader. like shes the only woman to ever compete at NFR in bull riding. shes also 19 and doesnt ride with a helmet (just a cowboy hat) shes also like yhe biggest rodeo barbie you could imagine.

Firstly, I’m sorry it took me so long to get to work on your request, end of the year stuff and other wips got in the way 🫠 Anyways, I decided on Max for this because I almost immediately thought of him and his little Texas outfit 🥰 Also, I have to admit that my (non-American) knowledge of professional bull riding consisted primarily of The Longest Ride so excuse any inaccuracies, but I tried my best to read up on it! That being said, I hope it’s to your liking :) 

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

MV1 | Season of Champions

pairing: max verstappen x pbr!reader

genre: social media au

summary: you and max are each other's biggest supporters as max tries to secure his 3rd world championship title, whilst you're fighting for your 1st in a previously all male dominated sport

masterlist

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Liked by wagsf1, user3 and 135,092 others

mv.y/nupdates: Tomorrow our girl can secure one of the few select spots in the NFR finals!!! Unfortunately Max can’t be there due to his own race in Qatar, but we’ll be sure to cheer them both on ❤️

View all 712 comments

user1: they’re gonna kill it on both sides of the atlantic

user2: POWER COUPLE

user3: omg i hope y/n wins 🙏 she deserves this so much

user4: my alarm is set for 4 am to support y/n 🫡

user5: are you taking a nap between their races??

user4: lol obviously

user5: same 😂 it’s a tough life stanning max & y/n

7 October

Liked by y/n, mv.y/nupdates and 112,363 others

pbr: y/n y/l/n becomes the first woman in history to qualify for the NFR finals in Las Vegas in December! Congrats on this incredible achievement, y/n. See you in Sin City⚡️

View all 674 comments

user6: OMG SHE DID IT ❤️❤️❤️

user7: i’m so proud of her, i’ve literally been here since day 1

user8: remember when she used to do rodeo and everyone told her she could never go into pbr… look at her NOW 🔥

user9: she gave her hat to the little girl in the front row 😭❤️

user10: yep i cried

user11: y/n is not only the best, she is the SWEETEST

8 October

Liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 805,298 others

y/n: There aren’t words to describe how it feels to finally have my childhood dream come true. I’m not gonna lie, it was a tough road, especially as a female in this industry. Working my way up through rodeo to where I am today: a NFR finalist!! It’s a real pinch me moment… Little me would be ecstatic (just like present me 🙈) To all the other little girls that share the same passion & dream, it’s possible! Never stop believing in yourself ❤️ Now, let’s get that trophy!!!

View all 3,238 comments

maxverstappen1: My girl 😍 You’ve 100% got this 💪

y/n: Thank you baby 🥰 But first, Texas!

landonorris: GET INNN

Liked by y/n

lewishamilton: Legend in the making 🤍

Liked by y/n

user12: you’re gonna inspire so many girls to follow their dreams 🧡

user13: ✨role model✨

user14: soooo… idk if anyone’s seen the other finalists but she’s going to absolutely annihilate the competition just saying

user15: fr, they ain’t ready

8 October

Liked by user16, user17 and 658,512 others

f1: Howdy, y’all, it’s race week 🤠 Austin, here we come! 🇺🇸

View all 520 comments

y/n: Looking sharp sheriffs!

carlossainz55: Muchas gracias

charles_leclerc: Have to look our best this weekend, don’t we?

y/n: I wonder who for 🤔

charles_leclerc: 😉

user16: UHM FLIRTY MUCH??

user17: easy there sharl, she’s taken 💀

user18: cota the soap opera, i’m here for it

16 October

Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 778,543 others

y/n: Switching my bull gear for that other bull gear 💙 COTA LET’S GOOO

View all 2,160 comments

maxverstappen1: Blue looks good on you

Liked by y/n

danielricciardo: Yeeeeehaaawwww

redbullracing: Team Bull. Always.

y/n: Hell yeah!!

user19: you can pull off literally anything 😍

user20: y/n is at cota this weekend!!!!!

user21: omfg finally some y/n & max content

user22: we’ve been STARVED

user21: exactly 🥲

user23: GIRL WAIT YOU SWITCHED TO THE CAP??

y/n: Don’t worry!! It was only for the pic 😊

user23: oh thank god

18 October

y/n's story

Seen by landonorris, alex_albon and 2,436,712 others

19 October

Liked by y/n, victoriaverstappen and 728,451 others

maxverstappen1: Austin ready 🇺🇸💪

View all 1,934 comments

y/n: There were so many cool hats to choose from but he insisted on wearing mine…😈

landonorris: Initiating the cowboy hat rule just in time before the race… Clever girl

alex_albon: Oooohh everybody watch out

schecoperez: 😂😂😂

y/n: You know it ;)

maxverstappen1: Wait what?

landonorris: Nothing, mate 🤠 You’ll find out soon enough

user24: BYEEEE AHAHAHA

user25: y/n and the whole grid ganging up on max 😭

user26: he’s so oblivious i love it

19 October

Liked by sophiekumpen, redbullracing and 654,281 others

f1: VERSTAPPEN WINS AT COTA! 🏆

View all 2,017 comments

user27: 🔥🔥🔥

user28: the goat does it again

user29: little sad that max didn’t wear the cowboy hat on the podium tho

user30: lmao y/n is probably as well

22 October

Liked by maxverstappen1, alex_albon and 768,311 others

y/n: WHAT. A. WEEKEND. 15th win of the season & 50th altogether!!!🥇Proud of you Maxie 😘😘

View all 2,108 comments

maxverstappen1: Love you 😘

user31: MAXIE??? i’m sobbing

user32: i need to know all her nicknames for him NOW

user33: and i need her to be at every one of his races

user34: same she fitted right in with the crew in the pitbox, joking around and everything :’)

user33: truly one of the few wags who are actually into the sport…

22 October

Liked by y/n, danielricciardo and 734,161 others

maxverstappen1: It’s incredible to win my 50th Grand Prix here today. I feel very proud to achieve this! Amazing job by everyone in the team 👏 And special thank you to y/n, the hat indeed brought us luck!

View all 1,998 comments

y/n: Always trust the hat, you should wear it more often

maxverstappen1: Unfortunately we cannot all break the helmet rules

y/n: 🙄

user35: lmao y/n is like you either die trying or you don’t try at all

user36: she has an aesthetic to look after 💅🏼

y/n: 🤣 You got it!

user36: OMG OMG

user37: BROOO

user38: well at least we’ve got that confirmed now

22 October

y/n's story

Seen by charles_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial and 2,766,192 others

23 October

y/n's story

Seen by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and 2,541,384 others

23 October

Liked by user39, user40 and 31,476 others

mv1jet: Verstappen’s jet just touched ground! 🛬 Nevada, United States of America 🇺🇸

View all 508 comments

user39: oh god everyone get ready

user40: this can only mean 1 thing

user41: MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN, 3-TIME F1 WORLD CHAMPION, COMING TO SUPPORT HIS GIRL AT THE BIGGEST PBR EVENT OF THE YEAR HELLO YES I AM SAT

28 November

Liked by mv.y/nupdates, pbr and 275,021 others

wranglernfr: Today marks the start of the 65th NFR Finals! Newcomer and fan favorite y/n y/l/n has a good shot at winning the championship this week. However, will she decide to adhere to the mandatory helmet regulations or will she risk disqualification and still wear her self-proclaimed good luck hat? We’ll find out soon, folks. Stay tuned!

View all 1,454 comments

user42: i bet she keeps to her aesthetic

user43: oh def, she basically said it herself already

user44: but but but would they really disqualify her when she wins…??

user45: technically it is against the rules to ride without a helmet during the nfr’s so… yeah they might

user44: 😥😥

user46: please y/n don’t jeopardize it all 😩

2 December

maxverstappen1's story

Seen by landonorris, schecoperez and 3,014,839 others

11 December

Liked by maxverstappen1, mv.y/nupdates and 301,294 others

wranglernfr: NFR 2023 Champion y/n y/l/n⚡️Despite sticking to her famous but controversial cowboy hat, y/n becomes the 65th winner in Las Vegas at just nineteen, beating the runnerup and last year’s champion Billy Youngster!

View all 1,778 comments

user47: SHE DID IT!!!! 💪🔥

user48: i’m bursting with pride i’m so happy for her 🥰🥰🥰

mv.y/nupdates: two world champions this is almost too good to be true 😭❤️

user49: their christmas is gonna be one helluva party

user50: well deserved, that billy kid had it coming

user51: he only won last year because of dumb luck!

user52: FACTS

user53: this year we have a winner who’s worthy of the title ❤️

user54: can’t get over how y/n was so far up ahead they literally couldn’t disqualify her for the hat thing lol

user55: imagine if they had, people would have rioted

user54: omg they would have, with max at the front hoisting his pitchfork in the air, leading the pack

user55: 😂😂

11 December

Liked by maxverstappen1, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,219,748 others

y/n: Cowboy hat + racing gloves = champions of the world 🏆

View all 4,193 comments

maxverstappen1: ❤️

sophiekumpen: So proud of both of you 🥰

victoriaverstappen: Coolest auntie (en oom natuurlijk🙊)!!!

Liked by y/n

landonorris: Congrats on making champion, champ!!! And wow… Max has got his own hat 👀

y/n: Yup! He deserved it after his triple US win 😍

charles_leclerc: Does this mean that your hat claim has lifted…?

maxverstappen1: Unless you want another inchident, back off

y/n: Uhm... He knows what it means now…

charles_leclerc: 😳

alex_albon: RIP Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc 🪦

Liked by maxverstappen1 and y/n

12 December

Liked by y/n, landonorris and 1,182,853 others

maxverstappen1: Wear the hat…

Comments have been disabled

12 December

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

a/n: translation of “en oom natuurlijk” > “and uncle ofcourse”

Happy holidays! x

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

[shockercoco]

Modern Loneliness

Major John Egan x reader

Warnings - little bit of angst, but mostly fluff

Word count - 2159

a/n - this was literally supposed to be posted over a month ago for the ending of MOTA, but I kept writing for Austin lol. Might as well get it out the drafts now. I also basically had to rewrite the whole thing bc wtf was I thinking a month ago. I hope you enjoy :)

The war is finally over, allowing all the soldiers to go home, including the two best friends Buck and Bucky. The only thing holding Bucky back from being completely content about leaving is the fact that he doesn’t have that special someone to go back to.

Buck has Marge, and of course he’s happy for him, but Bucky just wishes had found a girl before he got sent off, someone who would know how he was before the war. Buck would always tell him not to worry and that he would find someone soon, but each time it doesn’t give him any reassurance.

You have been best friends with Marge since college, so when she told you her fiance was coming home you had nothing but joy for her. You had been a huge supporter of their relationship since the beginning, and while Buck was away you were always at her house comforting her for when she cried or just needed a friend. During his absence, Buck would write to you to check in on Marge because you and him both knew Marge would never tell him how she was really doing.

Currently, you are walking out of her front door to go back home when you see a taxi pull up in the driveway. You didn’t think anything of it until you saw Buck exiting the vehicle with his bags in hand. You shout for Marge to come outside, and it doesn’t take long for her to sprint into Buck’s arms after seeing him in the driveway. With a smile, you watched as he held onto her tightly and so lovingly, knowing this is exactly what Marge needed after a bad week. 

Deep down, though, you were wishing you had someone coming home to you, someone whose arms you could run into and kiss you like his life depended on it. When it came to the dating scene you never had much luck, so after a while you just accepted the defeat and gave up, deciding it was better to put your energy towards your career. 

During your girl talks, Marge would always tell you that you would find someone soon, and how perfect of a person you were, but year after year of not finding a relationship was making it hard to believe her. 

A couple days after Buck’s return, Marge invited you over because she was hosting a barbeque for Buck and some of his friends. You tried your best to get out of it, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She also mentioned that Bucky – Buck’s friend from the military who you’ve only heard while reading letters – would be there and that it would be an opportunity for you.

You didn’t find it unusual that she was trying to set you up with someone because this is what she always does, but you just weren’t in the mood to have small talk with a guy who probably wouldn’t find you attractive.

When Buck had invited Bucky – because when are they not together – he turned down the offer, and just like Marge, Buck wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

So, now here you were in Marge’s backyard surrounded by men and their partners. The only people you knew were the hosts, so you sat on the steps of the back porch with Marge beside you. Marge also didn’t know many of the guests given the fact everyone was Buck’s friend from the military, so she kept you company as she watched Buck man the grill with a few other guys beside him.

Bucky was among them, standing right next to his best friend and sipping on a beer as he talked. Every now and again, he would run a hand through his hair to push some of his loose curls, and you couldn’t deny the fact that he was attractive as you found yourself admiring him from a distance.

“Are you going to say something to him?” Marge asked you as she swished around the lemonade in her glass. She had been watching you this whole time as you practically drooled in the direction of the grill.

“Of course not,” you say as you turn your attention back to her, not before glancing around to see if anyone else had caught you staring. 

Thankfully some of the women had formed a little group and were laughing and gossiping amongst themselves, so there was little chance anyone had noticed you.

“And why not?” asked Marge with furrowed brows. “He’s a nice guy, I promise.”

“I’m sure he is, but it’s not like I know what to say. Plus look at him, he’s way out of my league,” you reply as you take a sip of lemonade from your own glass. 

“No he’s not, he’s just like any other guy,” she scoffs followed by a laugh.

“And just like with any other guy, I have nothing to talk about. What do we even have in common? He also just got back from a war camp in Europe, what if I say something that triggers him? 

“You’re overthinking. Just start off with a simple hello, and then go from there. He’s a huge flirt so knowing him he’ll do most of the talking,” she smiles. 

She was always so optimistic about these kinds of things, but you would be too if you were getting married to a guy who basically worships you.

You quickly finish the last of your lemonade before standing up. “I’m going to get a refill,” you mumble as you walk up the steps and into the house. You needed an excuse to get away from the conversation, and to get out of the heat. The sundress you were wearing was cute and gave you airflow, but it also exposed your arms and legs to harsh sun.

You head into the kitchen and open the fridge to take out the pitcher of lemonade Marge had made earlier in the day. After refilling your glass, you thought it was best to linger in the kitchen for a bit longer and decided to grab a plate of fruit out of the fridge to keep you busy.

Just as you jump up on the kitchen counter to get comfortable, you hear the back door opening. Next thing you know, you see Bucky walking into the kitchen, letting out a sigh that seems to be of exhaustion. He flashes you a smile when he notices you, before proceeding to grab another beer out of the fridge.

“You’re Marge’s friend right?” he asks as he shuts the door and turns to face you. 

“Yep,” is all you say before sticking a grape in your mouth.

“I’m John, but everyone calls me Bucky,” he says. He makes direct eye contact as sticks a hand out for you to shake, which you do, before popping the cap off his beer.

“So I’ve heard. I’ve seen your picture in Marge’s letters,” you respond as you focus your attention on the plate in your hands and begin moving some fruit around.

“Oh, yeah? Did I atleast look good in those pictures? Buck never lets me read his letters,” He smirks as he leans against the counter opposite from you.

You almost choke on the piece of fruit you had just placed in your mouth from his statement. You feel your face and ears turning warm so you turn your head and look out the kitchen window to avoid his gaze.

You stop yourself from smiling and cover it by clearing your throat. “Well  you were in a uniform and in black and white, so I couldn’t really tell.” 

“Understandable, black and white photos can be misleading,” he jokes, taking a swig from his bear. There’s a short silence that follows that isn’t completely awkward, but not exactly comfortable to you either. You hope he doesn’t notice.

The silence is interrupted by the back door opening and Marge sticking her head inside. She grins as her eyes flicker between you and Bucky before stopping on you to say, “Are you coming back out or what?”

“In a second, I’m just going to cool off in here for a bit,” you tell her. She gives you a nod before closing the door.

“Not a fan of big gatherings, I take it,” Bucky says once Marge is gone.

“What makes you say that?” you steal a glance at him before looking back out the window.

You smile as you watch Marge join Buck at the grill, making him turn his head to give her a quick kiss.

“I can tell you’re avoiding going back outside, and I don’t blame you. I’m doing the same thing myself,” he answers.

“What are you avoiding?” you finally turn your head to face him.

“Nothing specific really, I’m just not in the mood for conversating and answering people’s questions right now. That doesn’t include you though,” he looks over at you with a small smile. ” I used to love being around people and having fun, but now all I want to do is leave.” 

You watch as Bucky stares at the wall, going distant. His mood seems to have shifted from the one he had when he first stepped foot in the kitchen. “Everything okay?”

Your voice interrupts his thoughts and brings him back to the present. “Yeah, I’m fine…I’m just…I can tell I’m a different person ever since I got back, and I’m not sure I like this version of me.” He sets his beer on the counter and folds his arms, no longer in the mood to drink it. 

“I don’t think anyone expects you to be the same.”

“Well yeah, it’s just the fact that everyone I meet from now on will only know this version of me. They won’t know how different I was before the war, and they won’t understand what I’ve been through. Like Buck has Marge to talk to, and she understands because of the letters he would send her. I don’t have that,” Bucky says before adding, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to dump this all on you.”

You just give him a smile. Even though you will never understand completely what Bucky went through, you do have some grasp on what he’s feeling. To you it’s obvious that he puts on a mask when he’s around people, and won’t let his feelings show unless he’s alone – harboring his emotions.

“I know how close you are with Buck, have you ever told him about how you felt? It always helps to talk to someone.” you tell him.

He shakes his head, “No, I don’t want to bother him. He has his own problems.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” you tell him, but he just shakes his head again. “Well...I know we’ve just met, but you could talk to me. I mean, you just opened up to me in a kitchen within ten minutes of meeting me. I’m obviously a great listener Only if you want to, though,” you end with a hopeful smile.

Bucky finally looks away from the wall to look you in the eye with his eyebrows raised. “Really?” he asks and you nod. “That would be nice.”

And that’s where the bond between the two of you started, and it only continued to grow stronger. You would meet up with him for drinks, lunch, or just for a walk through the park. Bucky would tell you everything, from him joining the military and meeting Buck to what he has experienced throughout the past few years. You could tell that he would get emotional when he brought up certain topics, but he never cried around you, even though you always encouraged him to let his feelings out.

One day when he invited you to dinner, you brought it up to Marge. She quickly got excited and said it was a date, but you just brushed it off and told her it was just another casual meeting. Nonetheless, you still decided to put effort into your appearance – more than you normally do – and once the dinner was over, you realized she was right.

Bucky ended up confessing to you how his feelings for you have grown over the past few weeks. At first you were shocked, but when you realized he was being serious, you admitted that you felt the same way. 

You didn’t care that Bucky thought he was a ruined person with a lot of baggage, everyone has their hardships, after all. Bucky loved how you enjoyed being with him after everything he had told you, and how you accepted him for who he is now.

When you eventually told Marge that you and Bucky were official, she wasn’t surprised at all and brought up how she always said you would find someone. When Bucky had told his best friend, Buck was happy for him and gave Bucky his fair share of I told you so’s.

[itgetsdark-x]

ok but pre-outbreak Joel gets a cute young new neighbour and she’s a camgirl (pretending it’s more modern day and the technology exists lol) but he doesn’t know and one day she asked him for help with fixing something so he actually sees the inside of her house. And then later on, at night he’s trying to find something good 👀 for happy Joel time (bc his cute neighbour in her way too short shorts got him a lil hot and bothered) he comes across her doing a live cam show and he’s like “oh shit.. I know that room. And that ass..) and he realises it’s her and he just has to join in and see what’s going on and it just gets smutty.

And in the end he somehow reveals it’s him in a discreet non creepy way and she’s like yeah i know *wink wink* just really flirty and stuff! There could even be another part eventually where they actually get together and smuuuut!

This idea has been in my head the last few days but I’m not a good writer.. and you’re such a good smut writer 😭😭

A/N: oh my sweet anon, I am so sorry this took so long!! I may or may not have got carried away with this and rolled it all into one piece… so have this monstrous 7.1k word oneshot 🥹

Warnings: 18+, minors dni!! fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (do better!), use of the word daddy, implied age gap (everyone is of legal and consenting age!), probs more I’ve missed. It’s just porn tbh people!

Word Count: 7.1k

Characters: Joel Miller x Cam Girl!Reader (f)

You waved sweetly, blew a kiss to your laptop screen and ended the stream after saying a final goodbye to your viewers. You closed down your laptop and reached behind you, on your bed to grab your T-shirt and shorts. You stood up from your spot on your bed, stretched your back with a groan and threw your baggy T-shirt on over your naked torso and shimmied your tight gym shorts over your bare legs. 

You had moved back to Austin a few months ago with your parents, things had ended badly with a previous partner and it meant moving back to the city to be closer to them. Your parents majorly helped you out, hence why you were able to afford the comfy house you lived in, deep in the suburbs. 

Your house was next to Joel Miller’s, he was a devoted single father to his daughter, Sarah, who was in her mid-teens. You would sometimes look after Sarah if her sitter ever cancelled last minute and you loved it, it was like having a little sister, she would often come round and ask for advice on clothes, boys and sometimes, homework, when she trusted you enough to know the subject. 

You kept a fair distance from her dad, he was a handsome male in his late forties, potentially pushing older and sure, you thought he was super handsome but it wasn’t a line you particularly wanted to cross due to the implications and mess if you did, so you stuck to yourself besides your interactions with Sarah. 

To help pay your rent and keep food on your table, you had a part-time job at a local store but the main source of your income came from your online presence. You performed on an adult-only cam site and offered subscriptions for your content. You had somewhat gained traction on the site and it left you living fairly comfortably, especially with your parents help. No one around you in your day-to-day life knew about your online presence and you preferred to keep it that way, it was the twenty-first century and sure your parents may have understood, you just preferred to not talk about it with them. 

You walked downstairs, your makeup was still on but you had pulled your hair up away from your face. You had gone to get a snack after a two-hour long show, you had given your midday viewers a special treat as you normally only performed in the evenings / later at night as that’s when the money seemed to roll in easier. You ate a bagel with cream cheese and sighed to yourself as you scrolled through your phone, you clocked the time and noticed you had four hours or so until you had an evening stream booked. You needed a hot bath to clean yourself up after this afternoon’s one and a nap also sounded amazing. 

With that in mind, you wandered back upstairs and switched your taps on in your en-suite and awaited the water to warm up. You waited five minutes and the water was still icy cold, you rolled your eyes and pulled your clothes back on. 

“Fucks sake.” You huffed angrily and stomped downstairs to pop next door. 

Joel was a contractor and all-round handyman, sure he wasn’t a plumber but he would most definitely have a better idea of what was going on and he would most likely be able to fix it. You walked down the driveway of your house to head to Joel’s; the cool summer breeze pricked your skin, goosebumps rose on your arms and legs and your nipples hardened under the white fabric of your T-shirt. 

You brought your hand up and knocked on the door once, you looked down at your appearance and suddenly felt self-conscious, you pulled your arms across your chest to cover your nipples and shifted on the spot as you awaited someone to answer the door. 

“Oh, hi darlin’.” Joel said, smiling through his confusion as to why you were here and knocking on his door. “Sarah is at a friend’s for the night, she’s been beggin’ me to let her have a sleepover so I gave in. Were you looking for her?” He asked softly. 

You tracked his eyes, they started from your flip-flop clad feet and followed the shapely lines of your bare legs before they hungrily raked over your torso and found their way back to your own eyes. You swallowed roughly and pulled your arms tighter around yourself. 

“Uh, I was actually looking for you…” you started. “I’ve got somewhere to be in a few hours and I need a bath, my taps aren’t running hot. I was wonderin’ whether you could come over and take a look?” You asked nervously. 

“Oh sure! It’ll probably be a simple fix, let me grab my tools from the truck and I’ll be right over.” He smiled and closed his door behind him. 

He grabbed his toolkit from the back of the truck and ushered for you to lead the way back to your house. Joel watched as your hips swayed as you walked, the stretchy fabric of your gym shorts clung to your hips, ass and thighs perfectly. They rode up your behind in the most teasing way and Joel mentally cursed himself for imagining what laid underneath the material. 

“Hot date tonight then?” Joel asked innocently as you walked him up your stairs. 

“Ha. Yeah. Something like that.” You laughed awkwardly, god if only he knew. 

You opened your bedroom door to Joel and let him walk into your room. “Yeah, just through that door. I’m useless with this sorta stuff and normally I would call my dad but he’s at work and I noticed your truck in the driveway…” you mumbled and stood in your bedroom awkwardly. 

You looked around your room, just scanning the area to ensure you hadn’t left any of your toys out from your stream and you felt your cheeks immediately glow when you noticed your vibrator sitting by your pillow. 

Joel was humming as he took your bath panel off to inspect the plumbing work under the ceramic and you took the opportunity to push the vibe just under your pillow. You went over to the bathroom and leant on the door frame; you couldn’t help but admire the older male’s biceps as they flexed as he toyed with the temperature valve under the bath. He fiddled around for fifteen minutes or so until the water ran hot, the water immediately steaming in the air. 

You grinned at him as he called out ‘gotcha’. “Joel! You’re a hero, thank you! I owe you a pack of beers, I’ll get them over to you at some point this week, I promise.” You enthused and clapped your hands. 

Joel sat up from his position, clicked your bath panel back in place and switched the taps off. He looked at you and dusted his hands off on his jeans, as you clapped he couldn’t help but notice the way your breasts squeezed together under your shirt. He could clearly see that you weren’t wearing any underwear, your nipple’s colour showed through your white T-shirt and he felt his cock twitch in his boxers at the sight. 

“Don’t be silly, darlin’. I’m just happy to help out a neighbour in need. Plus you look out for Sarah, I owe you a lot more than sorting out a couple valves under your tub.” He laughed and threw his spanner back into his tool bag. 

“I love Sarah! She’s like a little sister to me, I just hope I’m not a bad influence on her!” You giggled and watched as Joel packed up his tools. 

“You a bad influence? I doubt that very much, sweetheart.” He smiled softly and you let him pass you back into your room. He looked around your room and admired your decorations. “I like what you’ve done in here, looks real nice. You do this yourself?” He asked and toyed with the material of the canopy that hung above your double bed. 

You nodded proudly. “Yeah, well, my dad helped me a little but I always get impatient and end up doing it myself just so it’s done.” You chuckled and he looked around before clapping his hands awkwardly once. 

“I should uh, let you have your bath in peace. Unless you need anything else from me?” Joel asked causing your eyebrows to rise in shock. “No! I meant um, sorry darlin’! Didn’t mean to sound so dirty with that suggestion, I mean do you have anything else that needs to looking at around your house?” He corrected himself and you laughed softly at him. 

“Oh, of course you didn’t.” You mumbled, an edge of disappointment lacing your voice. “Well, my facets and pipes under the sink, downstairs are a little loose and leaky. If you wouldn’t mind tightening them, I would be really grateful.” You smiled softly and after Joel gave you a nod, you lead him downstairs into your kitchen. 

You bent down to move your cleaning supplies out of the way and Joel swore his heart almost stopped, he could clearly see the outline of your ass and your privates as the lycra clung to every one of your curves. You stepped back and let Joel work again. 

“Joel, can I please be really rude and excuse myself to go and take that bath? I need to clean up before I’m needed elsewhere. I really appreciate your help with this all and please feel free to let yourself out. I’ll pop by tomorrow with some beers!” You said sweetly. 

“No worries at all, I won’t be long at all, sweetheart. Please don’t worry about the beers, it’s my pleasure. Honestly.” Joel spoke from under the sink as you left the kitchen to go back to your en suite. 

Joel continued to work on your kitchen sink, it was a short job and he was soon finished. He heard the water stop running upstairs and once again, he scolded himself for letting his filthy thoughts run away from him. He imagined your body slipping into soapy water, the bubbles clinging to your breasts, your perky nipples inviting him to suck them into his mouth and your perfectly round ass glistening with the soapy water. He groaned to himself as he picked up his toolkit to leave, he briefly palmed his half-hard cock in his jeans and he was feeling so thankful that he had the house to himself that evening. 

Whilst in the bath, you laid back into the enticing warm water and you let your thoughts run away from you. You imagined how Joel’s calloused fingers would feel buried deep in you, working your pussy closer to orgasming. You imagined how it would feel to be embraced by him before he pushed his dick deep into you until you were crying for him to stop. You physically shook your head and swallowed thickly, that right there, those thoughts, that’s exactly why you tried to keep your distance from the older male. He got under your skin and lit a fire deep in the pits of your belly. Silently, you were appreciative that you were so worked up because you knew it meant you would be giving your viewers a great show tonight. 

The time soon came for you to start your live stream; you were wearing a lacy pink bra and matching panties; the bra had crisscross straps across your cleavage and your nipples showed through the sheer material. 

“Evening guys,” you purred and gave a wave to your viewers. Whenever you streamed you work a masquerade mask to hide your identity and you always put a voice on; it was similar to your own but a little bit lower and more sultry. “How’s everyone’s day going today? I know I’m super excited to be here tonight.” You whined as your fingers toyed with your hardening nipples. 

Your set up was simple, you usually sat on your bed at the beginning of streams before moving into all crude positions for your viewers; their comments and tips egging you to go further. 

Comments started to flood in and it didn’t take long for you to lose your bra; you kept your panties and stockings on as the garment you chose for tonight was crotchless which mean you could toy with yourself without losing the sexy underwear. 

You were laid back, your back was arched off the bed as you plunged your rabbit vibrator in and out, your thoughts swam with Joel and imagining it was him pleasuring you. Small moans tumbled from your lips as the noise of comments and monetary tips filled the room. 

You were getting closer to having an orgasm and you didn’t know how long you could hold off for. Normally, when streaming, you would fake it a lot since it was a lot of effort to have orgasm after orgasm, especially for hours at a time; by now you had perfected the faking of one but not tonight. Your fingers pinched at your nipples and you shuddered on your toy as you worked yourself through it. You removed the toy and brought it up to your bare lips, you sucked it into your mouth and moaned. 

“Wow, thank you Sunset331 for the $100 tip. I’ll be sure to send a picture your way after the stream.” You purred. 

*Handyman47 Entered the Chat*

“Good evening, Handyman47. I hope you enjoy the show!” You called out and turned so the camera had a perfect view of your exposed ass and vagina. You pushed the toy back into yourself and whimpered at your overstimulation as you got right back into the quick rhythm. 

—

Joel was frustrated, sexually and emotionally. He needed to relieve some of the stress that had built up this afternoon. He had always found you tempting and attractive but tried his hardest to ignore you whenever you came round. But there you were today, all perfect and tight, he was blinded by his arousal.

He laid back on his bed, his back pushed up against his pillows as he got his laptop out and started Googling adult-only sites that could help him along the way. He stumbled across a streaming site he hadn’t seen before, it looked decent enough so he quickly made an account and clicked onto one of the first streams he saw the thumbnail for. 

The actress looked attractive enough for him to take the edge off and he thought somewhere in the back of his mind, that the body on his screen looked similar to yours but he pushed that sinister thought away and assumed it was because you had frustrated him so much earlier that day. 

Then he heard the voice from his laptop, “Good evening, Handyman47. I hope you enjoy the show!” It clicked instantly in his brain, his eyes scanned the background of the room and he swallowed thickly. 

Joel couldn’t help the way his cock twitched in his hand, he was already stroking himself and then he happened to stumble across you. He watched on as the toy disappeared into your hungry heat and would come out covered in your arousal, he groaned loudly from the back of his throat as his thumb swiped over his cock head and lubricated his length with his own pre-cum. 

He knew he should close his laptop down and go and take a cool shower but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of his laptop screen, he looked out his window and could see yours; your curtains were drawn and there was a charming pink glow coming from behind them. Just like in your stream. He was so close to you, yet you had no idea just what he was doing a mere distance away from you or how crazy you drove him.

—

“Oh yeah, just like that daddy. Please don’t stop. Yeah.” You moaned, you had switched positions again. You were on your back and your sticky privates showed directly to the camera. Your juices were creamy and thick as you continued to push your toy into your hole. “Hmm, I think I should change to something bigger. I need a real man to come here and fill me up.” You purred and sat up to read the comments. 

Handyman47: I volunteer, darlin’. 

Sunset331: on my way, need u so bad

Jungleboy87: show us that needy pussy again. pls

You giggled as you read the comments, your tits hung in front of the camera as you did so but one caught your eye. Handyman47, surely it was a coincidence, no? Joel was around that age, that was his job and the fact he called you darling. Your throat went dry as you pondered the possibility of it being the older man from across the road. 

You pushed that thought aside and grabbed your dildo off your bedside table; it was hot pink and a thick 10” in length, your biggest one to date. 

“What do you think, guys? Do you reckon I can make it fit in my little hole?” You purred and ran it through your wet folds. 

You pressed the tip of the toy into your hole and whimpered at the immediate stretch, slowly, you plunged it into yourself. The stretch of the toy stung and you closed yours eyes, imagining it was Joel filling you out like that. 

Comments of encouragement flooded the chat once again and you smiled devilishly as you pulled the toy out to switch your position. You lifted the prop from the floor, it was a large piece of plastic that you used specifically for streaming, it allowed you to suction your toy to it and it meant you could ride it with ease. 

“Oh fuck, daddy. You’re so big. Dunno if I can take it all like this.” You whimpered, straddling the toy and slowly pushing yourself down onto it. 

You rode your toy, the pleasure already building up in your body and you clenched around it weakly as your thighs burned with the effort. 

Joel watched on, his eyes fixated on his screen; he saw the way your tight pussy stretched around the toy and he pumped his cock enthusiastically with each rise and fall of your body. His tip was leaking pre-cum and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he was cumming into his palm over the sight of you fucking yourself. 

“Gonna squirt all over your cock.” You shuddered and you meant it, it was how you ended your shows normally; one final blow out for the fans. 

Your hand fumbled beside you as it reached for your bullet vibrator. You brought it to your clit and almost immediately you felt your orgasm come crashing through you, your hips faltered as your ground down onto the toy below you. You rose as your felt yourself gush around it, your juices splashed onto the toy and you couldn’t help the way your eyes screwed shut and a loud, shaky moan fell from your lips. 

“Fuck, Joel.” You whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He heard it. That was his name. Surely not. Joel watched as you continued to squirt, his cock throbbed and with one final pass of his hand, he came hard. Your name fell from his lips with a groan, he kept hearing the way you whimpered his name as you came on your toy over and over in his head and it made his spent dick jump as he milked himself of every last drop. 

You shuddered as you removed the toy fully from yourself and discarded your bullet to the side of you after turning it off. 

“Wow guys, I’ve made a massive mess here.” You giggled and slapped your sopping wet core once, the wetness apparent as your fingers tapped lightly. 

Comments of appreciation were flooding through your chat and you grinned as you read each one. 

“Thank you sooo much for tuning in guys, I won’t be streaming tomorrow but I’ll be back the day after. Thank you all so much for the support. I love you.” You cooed sweetly and blew a kiss to the camera before shutting the stream down to clean up after yourself. 

—

You had slept soundly after last night’s stream; it was a busy one. All morning, whilst trying to do some admin work, all you could think of was that one username that stuck out to you… Handyman47. You were sure it just had to be a sick coincidence, your thoughts were clouded by lust in the moment and of course it wasn’t Joel. Why would he watch your stream? He didn’t find you attractive, that would just be ridiculous. That’s what you told yourself, anyway. 

You finished up your work for the morning and decided to pop out to the store, to buy the beer you had promised Joel. It was a warm day so you dressed yourself in a sunflower-yellow sundress and flip flops, your hair was tied up messily. 

Once you arrived home from the store, you parked your car up and made your way over to Joel’s house to give him the cool beers. It was a small gesture to say thank-you for the help, even if he insisted that he didn’t want them, it was the polite thing to do and you were raised with manners. 

You raised your arm and placed a quick knock to the door, you were half-expecting to see Sarah’s gorgeous locks but instead you were met with Joel. 

“No Sarah again?” You asked. 

“She uh, she wanted to stay another night at her friend’s and well, you know how the kid is, how could I say no?! You disappointed to see me again, darlin’?” Joel joked with a smirk, although, oddly, he barely made eye contact with you. 

You shrugged. “Eh, not quite my girl but you’ll do.” You joked and held the beers out for Joel. “Plus, she can’t exactly drink these. Not for a couple years anyway.” You winked. 

“Or ever.” Joel replied dryly, catching your eyes this time. He took the pack of beers from you with a smile. “I’m tellin’ ya, you didn’t need to do this for me! It was a small favour. How ‘bout you come on in, we can crack open a beer together?” Joel asked, opening his door wider for you to step in. 

“Oh I wouldn’t wanna impose, I bought them for you to enjoy. Don’t feel like you have to share!” You smiled. 

Joel shook his head and gently took your wrist, to pull you inside. “Nonsense. You look like you’ve had a busy mornin’ and could do with a beer. Go ahead and make yourself comfy in the lounge, I’ll put these in the fridge and grab a couple.” 

You obliged albeit reluctantly, you didn’t mind spending time with Joel but he drove you mad; just being in a close proximity to him like this drove you insane, you couldn’t act on what you wanted and it was torture. You sat down on the couch, crossed your legs and smoothed your dress down, the hem rested comfortably on your upper thigh, just teasing with a glimpse of your forbidden skin. 

Joel entered the room and gave you a bottle of beer, you shot him a small thank you before taking a sip. He sat opposite you in his arm chair and let his legs sprawl out widely; he was wearing shorts and a tight-fitting t-shirt, the material hugging his biceps deliciously. 

“How was your hot date last night?” Joel enquired innocently, pretending he didn’t know what you had been up to. “I’m sure I could hear you screamin’ from here.” He teased. 

You laughed dryly and shot him a deathly glare which only made him chuckle. “Wasn’t a hot date, I was actually um, I was working.” You mumbled and stared into the neck of your bottle before drinking some more. 

“That time of night? I thought you worked at that fancy little store in the city?” Joel asked, probing you further. He was treading on thin ice, either you were going to open up about what you were doing or you were going to lie through your teeth. He noticed the way you switched your legs over and shifted awkwardly in your seat. 

“I uh — I have an extra job.” You shrugged, keeping your cards close to your chest. Joel had never really spent this much alone time with you, especially not to ask you this many questions. “How’s work going for you, a lot of jobs on at the moment?” You asked just trying to deflect the attention away from your work. 

“Nope, you’ve got me intrigued, darlin’. What were you doing? What’s this extra job?” 

You cringed, you placed your bottle on the table and hid your face behind your palms. “I — I model and perform on an adult-only site; I do live shows of porn, basically.” You admitted, your cheeks were glowing under your hands. 

Joel watched as you hid your face, he bit back a smirk and watched as your embarrassment poured from you; it was wrong to admit, but it turned him on, to see you all embarrassed and flustered. 

“Oh yeah, I know the ones.” Joel said casually, taking another drink with a shrug. 

You peered through your fingers and your mind shot back to the username. Surely it wasn’t him. No. 

“You, Joel Miller, are telling me you’re one of those creeps on the site?” You asked, raising an eyebrow up at him. 

“Wouldn’t say I was a creep.” He stated bluntly. “I have needs darlin’, especially when my neighbour drives me mad all afternoon dressed in tight shorts or a sexy little dress.” His eyebrow was cocked upwards, testing the water to see exactly how you would react. 

You put your hands on your lap, your mouth fell agape and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat again. 

“Oh. I. Um. You?” You mumbled incoherently, your brain not working quickly enough to form an intelligible sentence which caused Joel to laugh. “You — you see anything on those sites of interest?” You asked quietly, your hands smoothing the fabric of your dress more out of nerves than to adjust the garment. 

“Saw a nice little show last night…” Joel said quietly, he stood from his seat; you could see the vague outline of his thickening cock in his shorts and your privates throbbed. “Thought I recognised the room…” he said, sitting down next to you. “But then I thought, no, it couldn’t be that good little girl that lives next to me. Not with the way she was performing, doing such a good job at taking in her toys.”

Joel was closing the space next to you, you could feel the weight of his body next to you and his fingers tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. It was a tender movement and it made you shiver physically under his touch. You avoided making eye contact with him, you were sure this was just a joke and he was teasing you for your extracurricular job. 

“Look at me.” Joel demanded, his lips were by your ear now, they just ghosted over the area and you shook your head. “Look. At. Me.” Joel said more sternly and his voice was dropped impossibly low. 

His hand held your bare knee, his fingers teasing to travel just under your dress and you finally bared to look at him. Your eyes were wide in shock, your chest heaved slightly with your more laboured breaths and small beads of sweat collected on your neck. 

“It was you…” you whispered to which Joel just smirked. “Son of a bitch. You’re a dirty old man, Mr Miller.” You teased, still feeling nervous under his watchful gaze and touch. 

“Is that why you whimpered out my name as you squirted on your toy? Cause I’m a dirty old man?” Joel asked, his voice dripping with sheer confidence. 

“I — no I didn’t.” You huffed. 

Joel squeezed the delicate skin of your thigh and you made a pathetic noise from the back of your throat before you tried to swallow it back. 

“I heard it.” Joel said smugly. “God, made me cum so hard on myself to hear you calling out my name.” He groaned, thinking back to his activities from last night. 

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call out your name, I didn’t think anyone heard me. Please don’t tell anyone about my extra job.” You whined as Joel’s hand slid up under your dress slightly, his fingers brushed past your clothed heat and your eyes dipped shut for a second. 

“How about I show you how good I feel compared to those pieces of plastic.” Joel whispered. 

“Please.” You breathed and bucked your hips upwards, searching for the feel of Joel’s fingers. 

Joel silently got off the sofa, you wanted to whine and bring him back so you could feel his large frame next to you again. Before you could react, the older male was sinking to his knees in front of you and was holding your thighs firmly. 

“Wanted to taste you from the day you moved in next door.” Joel stated and your cheeks flushed at his admission. 

He pushed the fabric of your dress up, you took the hint and was quick to discard it to the side of you. Your breasts were freed from the fabric and Joel groaned deeply as he drank in your naked form. He held your thighs again and he pulled you forward so your panties were closer to his face which caused you to yelp.

“Look at you. Fuck.” Joel cursed as he let one of his fingers trail across the wet fabric of your panties. “You wet already for me? Thought you woulda got it outta your system last night.” Joel teased with a knowing smirk as your shuddered against his gentle touch. 

“Are you gonna chat up my vagina all afternoon or are you gonna show me how much better you are than my toys?” You snapped with a bratty smile. 

“I won’t give you anything if you talk to me like that. Now be a good girl and shut up for me, yeah?” Joel bit back, his voice full of condescension which admittedly, only fuelled your arousal further. 

You rolled your eyes and just as you opened your mouth to argue back with the man, he pulled your panties to the side and let one of his fingers sink into your heat roughly. You threw your head back and your fingers gripped at the fabric of Joel’s t-shirt, the sudden action throwing you off. 

Joel twisted his digit to curl it inside of you before he removed it again, causing you to whine angrily at him. You lifted your head to grumble but instead you were silenced as you locked eyes with him; he brought his wet finger to his lips and sucked it in with a soft moan. Your lips parted in silent shock as Joel sucked your arousal into his mouth, moaning like it was the finest food he had ever eaten. 

“Taste so sweet, princess. Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He groaned, finally removing your panties from your privates. As you lifted your hips to allow the man more access, he noticed how evident your arousal was, you were near dripping onto his sofa and his mouth watered. “I’m going to eat you out now and I won’t stop until you squirt right into my mouth, so how about you be a good girl and do that for me.” Joel said sternly. 

You nodded dumbly; no man had ever spoken to you this way before, at least, no man you truly wanted. Without another word, Joel dipped his head down and licked a fat stripe up through your folds. You moaned softly, the noise was delicate and sincere, a complete contrast to how you sounded coming from his laptop screen last night. Your body shuddered against the sofa and your fingers had weaved their way into Joel’s salt and pepper hair; his soft locks entangled with your digits. You gently tugged at his hair causing the male to make a gruff noise into your folds, the vibrations rippled through you and you moaned again. 

Joel sucked your clit into his mouth, the sensitive bud was already throbbing with the male’s previous efforts and as soon as his lips suctioned around it your back was arching off his sofa. The old couch creaked under your body as your contorted your back when Joel’s tongue flicked over your clit. 

“Fuck me!” You cursed, one of your hands leaving Joel’s head to pathetically grip at the edge of the sofa for further stability. 

“Later,” Joel mumbled into your wet pussy. 

You let out a breathy chuckle; your head was swimming, your thighs were shaking with the pleasure as Joel continued to work his tongue expertly over your clit and occasionally to dip down into your hole. You felt your orgasm start to bubble lowly in the depths of your belly, just a gentle simmer as Joel licked at you like a man who had been starved. 

As if he read your mind of wanting more, Joel brought two fingers up to your hole; he barely dipped them into you and you whimpered weakly. He pushed one finger in, just barely up to his knuckle before he withdrew it and licked over your clit again, the tip of his tongue flicking at it gently. 

“Please.” You pleaded with a weak and shaking voice. 

Joel looked up at you; his dark pupils were blown with lust and he smirked as he let both fingers push into you, again, barely going past his first knuckles. He twisted his fingers in you and pushed them in fully until the palm of his hand met your body. You let out a loud gasp as your eyes fluttered shut and like a perfectly-timed dance, Joel flicked his tongue across your clit once again. 

“Fucking Christ, shit.” You cursed, your voice loud and sharp as Joel worked his fingers rhythmically into you. 

Joel laughed softly against you as he plunged his fingers into you again and again. He wrapped his lips around your clit again and suckled at the bud softly as his fingers worked into you quickly. Your orgasm came crashing down, you barely had time to register it as Joel worked his fingers quicker, he curled them upwards and they bumped the spongy spot inside of you that had screams tumbling from your lips. 

“G-gonna,” is all you managed to get out, the room was filled with your moans and the obscene wet noise of your arousal as Joel fingered you with fervour. 

“That’s it,” Joel cooed. “Good girl, cum for me. Soak me, need it.” He moaned as he pulled his mouth off of your clit but kept his face near and he replaced it with his thumb. 

The different sensation threw you off momentarily but it was too late and your orgasm ripped through your body, it drew a long moan from your throat; the noise was animalistic and raw and it echoed through the room. Joel removed his fingers and with that, you let go and whimpered as you gushed onto Joel’s face, he lapped up your juices and you shuddered through your orgasm. Joel watched as your pussy clenched and fluttered around air, the aftershocks of your orgasm evident as you writhed in your spot. 

“Look at you.” He sighed happily, watching you still. “Even better than on the screen, so perfect, so beautiful.”

You blushed as his words and you weakly let go of his hair your legs were still quaking as he let go of them, you slumped against his sofa; completely unashamed of your naked state compared to Joel’s fully dressed one. He stood and the outline of his hard cock was evident in his light shorts, there was a darkened wet patch and your mouth watered at the thought he got that turned on by pleasuring you. 

“Come here and taste yourself on me.” Joel breathed, taking your cheek to pull you in for a bruising kiss. 

You held onto Joel’s arms as he kissed you, his tongue trailed over your bottom lip and greedily you sucked it into your mouth, urging him to explore every crevice of your mouth. You made a small noise of appreciation as your mouth was flooded with the taste of Joel mixed with the tang of your own arousal. 

“Fuck me already. Please.” You breathed against Joel’s face, momentarily breaking the kiss. 

“How do you wanna take me, darlin’?” He asked. 

“However you wanna give it to me.” You retorted with a smirk. 

“Get on your knees on the couch, stick your ass up for me and show me that pretty little cunt.” He growled lowly and you obliged happily, doing as he said. 

You positioned yourself so your chest was pressed to the back of the sofa and you allowed Joel full access to yourself. You wiggled your ass as you heard Joel toss his shorts to the side haphazardly. 

“All for me now, huh?” Joel asked, his hands mauled at the skin of your ass and spread your cheeks, he took his length and pressed the tip into your hole, before you knew it, it was gone again and he slapped it gently at your oversensitive clit. “Tell me how bad you want it.” He hissed, running his cock through your wet folds, nudging your clit with each pass. 

“Please, Joel. I want it so bad, never needed a cock so bad in my life, you already made me feel better than any of my toys or the boys I’ve fucked before put together. Please give me your cock, wanna feel your cum fill me up so bad. P-please.” You whined, your voice coming out as small, wrecked sobs as Joel continued to rub his cock over you. 

“Good girl.” He praised and without warning be bottomed out inside of you, you moaned loudly; a perfect blend of pleasure and pain rippled through your veins as Joel brushed some hair from your face so he could evaluate your emotions. 

He rubbed your ass with his palm and landed a bruising slap to it, you moaned and threw your head back in pleasure. Joel took that opportunity to pull his hips back, to pull out of you fully; he passed his cock through your soaked pussy lips once again. Your mouth opened to complain but before a single noise could leave your mouth, he was pushing back into your greedy heat without warning. 

“So. Fucking. Tight.” Joel groaned, accentuating each of his words with a hard thrust of his cock. 

He built up a harsh pace, your fingers turned white as they gripped at the fabric of the sofa below you. You were sure if you held on any tighter then the fabric would surely rip under you. Your body prickled as if a hundred needles were touching your skin, your stomach knotted as you felt another orgasm working it’s way through you. Your walls fluttered around Joel and your legs wobbled as you tried to stay grounded as his thick cock nudged that sweet spot inside of you. 

“G-gonna, gonna…” You whimpered, your eyes screwing shut. 

“Mmhm, that’s it. Atta girl, cum on my cock. Tell me how good it feels, princess.” Joel whispered, leaning forward so his body was pressed to yours. 

“Fuck!” You cursed, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. “Feels so good, n-never felt this good before. Making me feel drunk on your cock, gonna need it again and again and again. Please give it to me. Please. So good.” You rambled, words falling from your lips carelessly as Joel fucked you into your orgasm. 

His thick but nimble digits wound their way around you to fall to your clit, he circled the bud perfectly and it had your head swimming. It was the thing you needed to push you over the edge; you felt as if you had fallen from a cliff, just floating in midair as Joel worked you through it. Moans of profanity and his name fell from your parted lips as you came around the man’s cock, your walls clenched him and held him tightly. 

Seemingly, that was what sent Joel over the edge, his hips faltered and he thrust into you once more, much weaker this time. His cock twitched in your walls and with a groan, and his hands squeezing your hips roughly, he came deep inside of you. You whimpered as your body went limp; Joel’s hot cum filled you and it made you clench weakly around him, your greedy hole trying to suck him in deeper still. 

“Fuck me.” You whispered, your ass still on display for the older man as he pulled out of you with a wince. 

“Just did that, darlin’.” He laughed breathlessly, trying to gain composure once again. 

You rolled your eyes, was typical Joel to state that when clearly it was a rhetorical state meant as a throwaway. 

“I should um, well I should pop to the bathroom to quickly clean up and then get out of your hair.” You said, somewhat awkwardly as you stood shakily from the sofa and held your thighs together tightly. 

Less than a minute ago, the man’s cock had been inside of you and now that the thick tension and lust had cleared the air you couldn’t help but feel a little bit awkward about it. 

“Stay?” Joel asked. “I mean, I wasn’t really done with you yet.” He grinned boyishly and you couldn’t help but smile at him. “Just an idea, darlin’ but how about we go shower and clean up and order some food. We still got more beers to get through. Then, I’m sure if you’re a really good girl, I could give you my cock again.” His hand was stroking up and down your arm, his fingers tickled your skin and in their wake they left goosebumps. 

You looked up at Joel, into his deep brown eyes and you nodded with a grin. 

“Deal. But you’re paying for the food, you ol’ perv.” You teased with a giggle. 

“Get upstairs.” Joel said with a roll of his eyes. 

You laughed to yourself again as you walked away, to go upstairs only to yelp loudly when Joel came up behind you and placed a light tap to your ass and rushed in front of you. 

“You’re dead, Miller.” You called and chased up behind him to return the favour. 

———————————————————————

—————

[storiesfromafan]

Obsessed Pt 3

A/N: I am finally back with part 3!! I am sorry for my absence, as I mentioned in anther post, I had taken time off work and it was my birthday on the 11/7. So I took some me time, haha.

I hope this part is alright, I finished it not long ago, so sorry if its not edited properly. Please don't come at me for mistakes or anything, haha.

Also, the last week or so, I have been thinking of a new series for one of Austin Butler's characters; Benny from The Bikeriders. Lets just say Austin has me in a choke hold right now lol. After this post I will be putting up something I wrote for him. I am finally branching out in my writing, which is terrifying lol.

With that, please enjoy the next part of the Obsessed Series.

Part 1 & Part 2

What was he thinking sending you that poem? What possessed him to act on his thoughts? Mattheo questioned himself over and over, tired from lack of sleep from his mind trying to figure out what was going on. It was like he was on autopilot when he done it. Mattheo had thought about the words, which his hand had written down and then mindlessly sent the words to you.

What had you thought when you got the letter? Did you read it? Did you like the muggle poem? Or did you hate it? No, you would like that poem as he had seen you reading it numerous times. Were you interested in knowing who sent it to you? Did you know it was him? Or did you think it was someone else?

“Mattheo, pass the juice” Theodore’s voice brought the worried boy from his thoughts.

Blankly looking to his mate, Theodore gestured to the pitcher of juice. Finally putting two and two together, Mattheo grabbed the pitcher and passed it to the male sitting down from him with their hand out.

“You alright?” Theodore asked taking and pouring the juice into his cup. “You seem out of it”.

Straightening up in his seat, Mattheo nodded his head. “Yeah, all good”.

From the look Theodore shot him, he didn’t buy Mattheo’s words, but let him be. If Mattheo wanted to talk to him, he would when he was ready. Mattheo went back to sitting silently, pushing his food around his plate, taking a bite here and there. He didn’t have much of an appetite, as his stomach was in knots with worry.

Looking up from his plate, Mattheo looked across the room to the Ravenclaw table. From where he sat, he could just see you sitting with your friends. You were talking and laughing like nothing was a miss. Maybe you hadn’t opened the letter he sent. But that still didn’t put him at ease.

Once breakfast was done everyone began to make their way to classes. Both Theodore and Lorenzo had gotten up before Mattheo, Theodore clapping him on the back in passing. With a look to you, he saw you were getting up with your friends, that was when Mattheo got up too. He wanted to follow you, even if you had different classes. But you had left The Great Hall before he could catch up to you and your friends. So reluctantly he followed his two friends, and went to morning classes.

First up Mattheo had flying class with Gryffindor’s. It was a pretty normal lesson; a few students falling off their brooms, Malfoy’s snarky comments, Potter facing off with Malfoy. Just a typical Slytherin and Gryffindor class.

Walking back into the castle, Theodore and Mattheo were pushing each other and laughing while Lorenzo strolled behind them. Pushing Theodore into a passing group of girls Mattheo roared with laughter, his friend apologizing for his mates actions. He then took off after his friend, grabbing him in a headlock. A small battle between them ensued before their next Professor made herself known.

“That is enough Mr Knott and Mr Riddle!” Bellowed Professor McGonagall. “This a hallway, not a dueling area”.

Both boys separated at her words, standing beside each other with their hands behind their backs. Lorenzo stood behind McGonagall snickering at his friends, all the while the students in the halls watched on with curiosity. The Professor took to scolding both boys, much to the amusement of those watching. To finish it, McGonagall escorted both boys to her class, which only gained more stares and snickers from their passing peers.

Once entering the classroom; Mattheo, Theodore and Lorenzo made their way to seats in the back of the room. Lorenzo and Mattheo sat at the back row, while Theodore and other Slytherin student sat in front of them. Throughout the class Theodore turned back to make comments to his friends, or share drawings he did out of boredom. Only after McGonagall caught them, did they finally settle down and take her class more seriously.

Now left to himself, Mattheo's mind went back to you and the letter. His stomach churned at the questions surfacing again. His mind was all over the place. The usually calm, cool and collected Mattheo Riddle was a worried mess. Part of him didn’t care about sending you a muggle poem, while the other half was worried about it getting out to the students. It would look bad for his reputation.

When class finally wrapped up, the three Slytherin mate’s packed up their stuff before getting ready to head to lunch. Theodore was already off a head with the Slytherin he had been sitting with, deep in conversation. While Lorenzo and Mattheo followed a few meters behind.

“You alright mate?” Asked Lorenzo with concern. “You seem out of it”.

‘So, it’s obvious then’ Mattheo thought to himself. He gave his friend a half smile, “do I seem like somethings wrong?”

Lorenzo nodded. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Looking to Theodore, Mattheo called out that they’d catch up later. Theodore looked back, not thinking much of it, but called back he’d see them then. With that sorted, Mattheo dragged Lorenzo off to an empty corridor. Out of the two friends, he knew Lorenzo would be the one to give him less shit for what he did.

So, taking a deep breath Mattheo began to explain to his friend what was going on. Starting from a year ago when you helped him, how he thought about that moment and you. Then how every time he saw you, he studied you, noticing minor things about you or what you did. How he wanted to be around you. And finally, the poem he had sent you.

“I sent her a bloody muggle poem!” Mattheo said holding his head. “Now I can’t help but think a million questions that I probably wouldn’t get answers to! I was an idiot!”

Lorenzo, still processing what his mate had just shared with him, lent back against a pillar. Part of him was amused at the situation Mattheo was in, while the other half didn’t think he had it in him to catch feelings for one singular girl. All three of them were known for their rotation in girls, never staying with one more then a few weeks to a month. But here was Matthe Riddle, looking to finally have grown out of his Playboy ways.

Lorenzo smiled at his friend. “You look to have gotten yourself into quiet the situation, huh?”

Mattheo groaned. “No shit. What do I do?!”

Lorenzo pondered his friends words. “Honestly, I don’t know” – Mattheo groaned again – “but maybe wait and see if you get a letter back? Surely, she wouldn’t just leave you hanging, maybe she is trying to think of what to say?”

 Thinking over Lorenzo’s words, Mattheo slowly nodded standing up straight. “Maybe…maybe you’re right”.

Lorenzo nodded. “Yes, we will see if I am. But I have to say mate, this is a new side to you. How feminine of you” he laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

Mattheo rolled his eyes. “Haha. Have a good laugh” he sulked, putting both hands in his pockets and pouting.

“All jokes aside, I am happy to know you fancy a girl whole heartedly” comment Lorenzo moving from the pillar.

The pair began to walk from their secluded space, and head to The Great Hall for lunch. No doubt by now Theodore would be wondering where they had gotten to. Mattheo smiled at his friend, feeling less stressed after finally confiding in someone about his mindless moment.

They were laughing and joking as they walked when a head of them, they heard a whooshing noise. It only got closer before a letter came hurtling to them, suddenly stopping before Mattheo’s face. Blinking a few times, realization kicked in and he grabbed the letter, in case if anyone had been near by could or had seen. He stuffed the letter in his pocket, while Lorenzo gave his friend a sly smile.

“I told you” was all he said shoving Mattheo’s shoulder.

Mattheo shook his head. “It might not be from her”.

“Then open it, dare you to” Lorenzo laughed.

Looking around, the hallway was empty, but he wouldn’t take the chance. “Not now. After classes” Mattheo replied.

With that decision made, which when Mattheo thought back on and decided was a stupid one, the two males made their way to The Great Hall for lunch. And now Mattheo’s appetite had returned a bit, well compared to breakfast it had returned. After that he managed to get through his afternoon class, but barely. The letter in his pocket felt hot, warming his skin, itching for him to read it.

Finally free the three Slytherin’s emerged from the castle into one of the few courtyards of the school. Theodore complained how the building had been so stuffy, and that they were missing out on a beautiful day outside. So, they decided to lounge around in the courtyard till dinner. Crossing the yard to a large tree that they usually hung out at, Mattheo was fidgety, wanting to open the letter and finally know its contents. Seeing how his friend was, Lorenzo nodded at him. And so, they both came up with an excuse – the ruse of meeting up with a Hufflepuff girl – to let Mattheo slip away.

Without a second thought Mattheo re-entered the castle, making haste to his dorm room. He didn’t know if it would be empty, but he’d find out as soon as he got there. Thankfully, upon entering he was relieved to find not a soul there. Dropping his bag by his bed, he pulled the letter from his pocket before sitting on his bed. Holding the envelope in both hands he noted the lack of a name on the front. What did he expect? His name? Yes, as many girls addressed their letters to him, but there were a few that kept it blank. Yet he had never signed his letter to you, so there would be no name on a letter. Turning it over he saw the wax seal, the last thing holding him from the contents and who the sender was.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Mattheo finally worked up the courage to break the seal. He sat there for a minute, as if rushing to get the letter out it would cause it to escape his grasp. Eventually he slowly pulled the letter out, before opening the parchment he took another breath and thinking to himself how silly he was being. It was just a letter. He gets them all the time from his fangirls. But if this was from you, it meant so much more.

Finally, he took the leap and unfolded the parchment. He was meant with a fair number of words, which read as such:

Dear Mystery Sender,

Thank you for the poem. I am glad to see there is someone else who knows of the muggle Lord Byron. Do tell, are you fond of his work? I can honestly say that poem you wrote would be my favorite of his.

Do you possibly have any other writers, poetry or anything, you enjoy? As I feel you know my enjoyment of literature, you could recommend something new for me to read.

Finally, if this was some kind of prank, please don’t bother to reply. I have entertained this for almost a day. I don’t like to be made the butt of someone’s joke.

Sincerely,

(Y/N) – don’t mess with me – (L/N) ❤

Mattheo stared at your letter, his brain slowly processing not only that you had wrote him but what you had written. You were messing with him, you thought he was pranking you. That was far from what he wanted to do. His intention was to show you, in a language you understood, how he thought about you. Cursing himself, Mattheo dropped the letter on the bed while hitting his head.

“Great” he sighed. “She thinks I’m fucking with her!”

Just then the dorm room opened, making Mattheo grab the letter and hide it under his leg. Lorenzo stuck his head into the room, upon seeing Mattheo rushed in and closed the door before crossing the room to his friend.

“So?! Is it from her!?” He asked in a hurry.

Mattheo would have laughed at Lorenzo if he hadn’t been in such a slump from reading your words. He nodded his head, to which Lorenzo pushed him further. Not knowing how to put it, Mattheo pulled out the now crumpled parchment before handing it over to his friend. Without wasting time, unlike Mattheo, Lorenzo read your words. Excitement dropping after reaching the last sentence of the letter.

Lorenzo dropped to sit at the end of Mattheo’s bed, placing the letter on the bed between them. “Well, that was not what I was expecting” he comments. “It started out promising, before crashing and burning”.

Mattheo half moaned and half groaned snatching the parchment up in hand. “I know! What am I going to do!?”

Silence settled between them, both thinking over the situation and possible solution. “Write her another letter, this time your own words would be best” Lorenzo stated, stressing ‘this’ and ‘time’.

“I figured as much” muttered Mattheo. “But do you think she will believe me? And not think it’s a prank?”

“Only one way to find out; write her. You won’t know if you don’t try mate” Lorenzo said, voice of reason.

Mattheo slowly nodded his head but decided to let this new revelation swim in his mind for a while. Opting to waiting till after dinner to construct a response to your letter. He didn’t want to rush a reply and make things worse. But to be fair, no matter what he reply’s with could go badly, as you might think it was still a stitch up.

Thinking Mattheo’s choice to wait to reply was a good idea, Lorenzo ushered his friend from his thoughts and their dorm, and to dinner. Before leaving Mattheo stashed the letter in his bag, silently hoping it would be safe and trying to think of a better hiding spot for future.

A/N: as always, let me know what you think and feel free to request :)

[hwaightme]

Bang bang

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR STAR'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist) (join taglist)

⚫ pairing: gangster/mafia!seonghwa x stripper/afab!reader ⚫ genre: smut, mafia!au, noir, ganster film style, bits of angst ⚫ summary: Bang bang, he shot me down / Bang bang, I hit the ground / Bang bang, that awful sound / Bang bang, my baby shot me down... the words never sounded truer as you hunt for the man who made you fall from grace. ⚫ wordcount: 14.6k ⚫ warnings/tags: barely edited (written in a chaotic flurry), gangsters, murder, guns, blood, attacking, language, strip club, slight objectification, rudeness, bickering and arguing, emotional manipulation, revenge, death [of a side oc], yandere themes, obsessive behaviour, alcohol, money, seonghwa driving expensive cars, betrayal mention... lmk if anything else. ⚫ perma-taglist: @legohwas @doom-fics @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @hoshischeekss @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 ⚫ a/n: HAPPY SEONGHWA DAY!!!! May our brightest star be blessed with everything and more <3 (and never venture into what this fic contains lol); much love and appreciation to nora for going unchained over mafia hwa, and for supporting me through the blackout that was the writing process for this fic. Much love, all reblogs, comments, thoughts welcome~

⚫ nsfw tags: hate sex, car sex, fingering (receiving), sub-leaning reader but a hardcore brat, dom-leaning seonghwa but he enjoys the degradation, degradation (whore, slut, cock slut...), pet names and praises (doll, precious angel, darling, baby, sweetheart), a bit of impact play (slapping), orgasm denial, doggy style, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), blowjob, deepthroating, hair tugging/yanking, manhandling, grinding, spit play, come in mouth/swallowing... whew

⚫ playlist: bang bang (from kill bill) by geek music, showed me (how i fell in love with you) by madison beer, you put a spell on me by austin giorgio, i've got to see you again by norah jones, who do you want by ex habit, woman by emmit fenn, bad drugs by king kavalier, often by the weeknd, chills (dark version) by mickey valen

Bang bang… he shot me down…

You had given up on seeing him again. Searching for him, hellbent on getting the last word. You had been confident that finally, after all this time, your tortured soul could get some rest. That was until your eyes locked with his in a silent duel, that shit-eating grin on his face growing wider as he studied the wounds he had left behind. The invisible scars that were the start of your metamorphosis.

It was not that you had never imagined meeting the fiendish man again – in fact, you swore that it was your only relief: to fantasise about what you would do if you were to physically cross paths somewhere in this forlorn city, and many nights you would wake up in cold sweat after hearing the intoxicating low-toned laughter resonate in your skull. He haunted you and you knew that he was watching your every move like a sadistic predator. As such, the only thing that had driven you out of your madness, the flimsy umbrella that you clung onto amidst your fall from the life you had built and hoped to have, was to wish that one day, you could do the same. And seeing him right there, in front of you, in his tailored suit and jewellery bathed in blood as the spotlights made him look like the devil himself, the notion of hoping returned.

When a strobe light flashed across his faced you saw him lean and whisper something into the ear of one of his goons, evidently excited to having spotted you. After the ever so slightly shorter, but impressively built, undoubtedly a dark-souled man armed to the teeth, surely his bodyguard, nodded a couple of times, and in turn called over one of the waiters to continue the chain only for the latter to shrink and rush off into the backrooms, your nightmare ambled towards the bar. With a quick unbuttoning of his suit jacket, he settled in one of the stools and spun around to face the stage. To face you. Subject you to a mocking scrutiny while you had no choice but to continue dancing.

As he mindlessly took a black card out of his pocket and passed it to the bartender, without sparing a glance behind him, the object pinched between his pointer and middle fingers, you were in your lonesome on the stage, fighting an uphill battle for every coin and paper bill. Spinning in circles like an animal trapped in a cage, clinging to the pole as though it was a thread connecting you to existence itself, even though experience had shown you that in this, you were skilled only in going down. That man who made living seem easy, despite, or perhaps thanks to the darkness from which he was undoubtedly spawned. Your first love, your first heartbreak, your first glimpse into how the world could chew you up and spit you out – life that was a forbidden fruit so beautiful, so tantalising to where through atrocious flavour and agony one would bite through to the rotten centre and willingly lose their senses to keep a piece to themselves.

His eyes tirelessly accompanied your every move as you went through your routine. Grinding against the pole, crawling across the stage as onlookers and perverts – those who you had to call revered guests because they could spend, and spend a lot, ogled you and yelled heinous remarks, you had not felt so humiliated in a long time. The transition to your present career had been a follow up to a series of events that had shut all other doors – you considered yourself lucky that you had even had the chance to catch yourself on these professional branches during your painful descent. And you had to admit, it did pay well. In a couple of months, after you had definitely breached all work hour regulations, you had managed to pay off your fines and numb yourself to your revoked medical licence. Things were looking up, like the heels you wore. Not quite sky-high, but nevertheless, not in the sewers. But now that being sat at the bar, devouring you with his smouldering gaze and using you for cheap amusement, made you feel filthy. With his pristine, clean, supreme ‘I am above you all’ aura, he might as well state that he owned you. Maybe, in a way, he did. Since his ‘company’, or as one would say ‘bunch of organised hoodlums in suits’ behind closed doors, owned this club among many others dotted around the metropolis.

You climbed up, approaching the finale of your performance. Soon you would be able to leave that creature’s gaze and hide in the rank bathrooms until the coast was clear. Even if that meant you had to abandon the bills. Or no, no you would have the time. You had rent to pay, what were you thinking? And you still needed to return the money you borrowed for the funeral, despite you being told that your now ex could be left to rot just fine. The act was more for you anyways – you wanted to prove to yourself that you still knew honour and tradition, regardless of how far you had been swept up by the unforgiving currents of the underworld. So now, to pay for your illusion of honour, you put on a show and flaunted what you had, fuelled by an undercurrent of indescribable disgust.

To the numbing bassline and an addictive beat you went higher and higher, letting the sensuality envelop you once more. If the months that stacked themselves like cash had taught you anything, this passage of time that you had spent nomadic, performing in one club, another, until you ended up in the one where you were now centre stage, it was that professionalism came first. You were surprised to find out just how many of your academic and practical skills had actually been put to good use – well, maybe not things like knowing components of the limbic system but having a steady hand and being able to manoeuvre out of uncomfortable situations in a cool and calculated manner certainly did their wonders. As you performed a high kick hold, and let your toes discreetly push off the ground for more momentum, you were already thinking a couple of steps ahead. The fairy, the floaters transition, you mentally listed and promptly ticked off the items, going from one move to another. It was nothing more than an elaborate ploy to convince those ogling you, some even unceremoniously palming themselves through their trousers, to give you their ‘hard earned cash’. Though, you never wanted to know where exactly that cash came from. It was not your problem, and you were quick enough to realise that it was better to keep your mouth shut and ask less questions. What these men wanted to see was a pretty doll spinning on a pole as if just for them, a fantasy just a couple of steps away from them. Not some amateur interrogator. 

His figure burned into your retinas as you amplified your dramatics, and stole the night for yourself with flair, flipping yourself upside down, only to recover and descend into your final pose. Due to the sweat and the light body highlighter that you had applied to make your features pop, you were an impossibly entrancing vision. A deity of the underworld that just so happened to find it entertaining to grace the local scum with her presence. 

The handsome black-haired man, an enticing, lethal ‘bella donna’ flower continued watching the forbidden apple of his eye. He had finally gotten you within his reach after so many months of playing cat and mouse. You were unbelievably easy to track, never having attempted to hide yourself, but for him to restrain himself for so long and not hunt you down at first opportunity was borderline torturous. Park Seonghwa was never one to wait. If he wanted something, or someone, he got it instantly, handed to him on a platinum platter. But your hatred was like an addictive scent that brought him to an unprecedented high. Each time he had news delivered of you discreetly asking after him at a club, or you trying to frequent an area where he had been spotted, evidently on a mission to do exactly what he was doing to you, it brought Seonghwa an excitement that shook him to the core.

But now that you were here, in his lair, his first club that he had opened, still a junior in the business at the time and coincidentally, still having been in what could be called a relationship with you, he could not resist. His mind had been screaming Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, every hour of the day, and his primal desires grew stronger than ever before. As he inspected the way in which you bent down to take bills from eager hands, coy and purposefully demure so as to attract even more tips, sinful musings clouded him. He could not ignore the curve of your back as you tapped another fowl man’s chin and took what was definitely over his budget right out of his beggarly hands. Seonghwa was tense as he focused on the white dancewear that adorned your body, elegant lace providing a dizzying contrast to the lewd scene as you let another imp paw at your ass as he hooked the waistband of your thong to leave more crisp notes.

The act of a sensational seductress, you practically glided off the stage, the platform heels doing little to diminish your resolve. You were even better than what he could have ever imagined from the stories that his closest allies and bodyguards had relayed to him. And while, San, the man who he had entrusted with observing you particularly closely once news had gotten around that you joined Club Estelle, had expressed your resounding success and renowned desirability on a number of occasions, now that Seonghwa had seen it he was nothing but proud. His masterpiece, his project, his precious little cherub was doing so well. All for him. How could he not grace you with his presence after seeing such a show?

You knew there was no way of escaping the monster, even if you had the ability to turn invisible, so you were not too surprised when you had found the man who had been next to him for the duration of the performance standing in front of you. What you were taken aback by, was how in just a flash, the man’s intimidating aura dissipated to reveal a charming, heart melting smile and twinkling eyes.

“Miss L/N Y/N?” voice equally as sweet, he inquired. Though you had no doubt that his was just airs preceding the request for you to accompany him to his boss.

“Yes. And you are?” remaining amiable, albeit distant, you responded, crossing your arms in a subconsciously protective manner.

“Merely delivering the request for your audience with my chief.”

You motioned for him to accompany you to the back, signalling that you needed to store the cash before any further discussions were made. The sweetheart obliged, and let you take the lead. In your peripherals, you spotted Seonghwa gripping his drink a little too tightly to be indifferent. As questionably possessive as ever, it seemed. Once you and the muscular bodyguard who you discovered was wearing a double holder were behind the curtain that served as a door to a dark corridor, you continued the conversation.

“A request or an order?” 

Absent-mindedly, you checked the quantity of the bills which you had collected - the rest were already waiting for you in the room, courtesy of the waitstaff whom you had actually managed to make something of a deal with: you did not tell anyone about their habit of permanently borrowing beverages from the bar, and they did small errands for you. Maybe this man with cat-like features was in a similar agreement with Seonghwa, though the likelihood of there being blood involved was too high.

“A request that I would definitely advise you to follow.” he insisted, holding open the door to the changing room as you inspected the bucket that had been left for you in the corner, with neatly collected, crisp notes. Your favourite sight as of late.

“If you answer my question.” you threw out while organising the money inside of a sports bag - the storage of your professional life. Once you were done, you shoved the item into your personal locker, sealing it shut and spinning around to face the man again as he beckoned you.

“Kindly, follow me, Miss.”

“Who am I following?” you repeated, desperately curious to know of this man’s identity. Nevertheless, your feet carried you forward, and you yielded to his summons, heading back out into the club.

“Mister Park Seonghwa’s man.”

“Ooh, his man…”

“Right hand man.” he elaborated, making you roll your eyes.

“So no name to pair with such a handsome face?”

The answers were almost automatic. It was not foreign to you to flirt with strangers, since that way you amplified your chances of financial success, but never before did you catch yourself being so passive, even when the intonations were well practised and near identical to what you would normally say. But there was no one, nor nothing, to blame except the hardwired response to the nearing figure of a very specific gangster, on whom your gaze immediately settled as soon as you reached the edge of the prolonged bar counter.

“I believe that Mister Park would not enjoy hearing such words from you.” of course he would not. When did he ever enjoy you complimenting anyone else except him? San steeled himself as he lowered his head, while you let the fingers of your right hand flitter over the counter as you sauntered over to the man who could not even be bothered to approach you himself, despite having evaporated from your life for an unbearable collection of months.

“Then he would not have sent you to fetch me. He should know that I appreciate beauty-” you were testing your luck, uttering the words when within the gangster’s earshot. Thankfully for San, he chose to take the matter into his own hands and, setting aside the glass of cognac with a delicate push, addressed his bodyguard.

“Sannie, is Y/N giving you a tough time?”

Your name sounded precious, meaningful when he said it. Like it had a genuine purpose in this mortal realm. A melodic uttering of simple sounds that drowned out the pulsing beat that zombified the visitors of Club Estelle. Whether that music was on or not made no difference to you - either way, you would only hear Seonghwa. His voice was like a rumbling of an oncoming thunderstorm amidst a nighttime quiet. The rolling growls of heaven’s rage as steel grey clouds stalked across the sky, wrapping the defenceless earth in a catastrophic promise. With nothing but a foggy trepidation in your chest, you slid onto the seat that was to your nightmare’s right, turning to have your back to the bar and rest your elbows behind you on the elevated table. 

“Uh, not at all, sir.” San’s shift in mien was comical. In a flash, he had stepped down from the pedestal of a man who made the demands, to a servant who you struggled to imagine acting a step out of the lines that his boss had drawn out for him. You raised an eyebrow, giving the guard a onceover.

“Sannie?”

“Yes, darling. San. Like a mountain. Isn’t it cute?” Seonghwa interjected again, not letting the man who you were addressing as much as regard you. Apparently, being under his command also meant that you were instantly off limits. How dull.

“Interesting word choice…”

“He is a cutie, though, aren’t you, Sannie?” smirk gracing his lips, Seonghwa teased the cutie, who, judging by the sheer broadness of his shoulders, could probably snap a person in half with his bare hands. Not that the person would complain since the last thing they would see would be that pretty face… but that was besides the point. No one in the mafia was soft and fluffy. And if there had ever been, they had not survived long enough to establish themselves as the sole representative in history. 

“No comment.” 

“See? How fucking adorable,” with an icy tone, Seonghwa concluded. “Now, could you give us some time to speak tête-à-tête?”

“Of course.”

As rapidly as his appearance had been, so was his departure into the lingering crowd. A newbie - even more new to the business than you, was beginning her performance, and had caught the attention of a couple of the regular patrons, and the lewd chatter had picked up considerably. It was apparent, however, that it was not enough to capture the interest of the man in front of you, who shifted his seating to face in your direction, and officially broke open the door into your life once again. Not because you had been tirelessly searching for him. But because he found it beneficial for himself to make himself known to you.

“Greetings and salutations, Y/N, it’s been a while. We have much to catch up on, don’t you think?” you blinked slowly, suppressing a rude scoff. People were still watching you, that much you were aware of. Those were the perks, or the faults with wearing stripper dancewear. You were the fixation of lustful eyes, the cool glass of water that was just out of reach for the hoards of parched scum.

“I have nothing to say to you, Seonghwa.”

“Ah how I missed you saying my name.”

“And I’d rather you keep mine out of your mouth.” a total lie, had you considered your instincts and how your legs had instinctively tilted closer to the brunette, but you were not about to throw away months of fantasising the man’s demise at the first interaction. You had at least some restraint left.

“Only if you can silence me. I know a couple of ways.” he winked, but you pretended not to catch it as you stared down at his hand that was lying on the counter, studying the ornate decal on the fingerless leather glove.

Taking notice of your preoccupation, he tapped his fingers on the surface, making the silver studs that ran down each digit and surrounded the opening on the back of the hand shine in the glimmering lights. You counted the holes that revealed his knuckles, for no reason other than to try shifting focus. You were not opposed to this kind of interaction. Gestures. Hints. Symbols. It was a horrifying craving that started in the abyss that Seonghwa had left in your tarnished soul, an affliction caused and amplified even by the most mundane details. You could feel those same fingers wrapping themselves around your neck, tracing your jawline, making a ghostly descent down your body. A shiver ran down your spine as you tore yourself away from the sight that had turned into a sinful recollection, forcing out a jarring taunt to convince yourself that there were no undertones to Seonghwa’s phrase.

“With a gun?”

He was not buying it. His precious flower, barely dressed and yet graceful to the extent of rivalling divinity, squirming from his mere presence. This was what he had been searching for, all this time that he had denied you contact. You had been a bad girl. Running, thinking you were pure and angelic. He did not want you that way, so he took his time winding you up, making your world collapse so that you would be ready to take the real him. Not the foolish goon that he had been before. You had been so sweet, doting on him and showing him off to your friends. But what he yearned for was the animalistic antagonisation of his very being. The fire in your heart that drove you to a vengeful insanity. Seonghwa’s tongue pushed at the corner of his mouth before running over his bottom lip, disappearing to give way to a smug grin as he noticed your eyes dart to the action. He comprehended your capabilities properly. More than any of those quacks who you had looked up to ever could. Your demons were loud, and yet you had gone to great lengths to suppress them, even when you were the most beautiful like this. The mortal embodiment of Discordia. Truly, the one deity he would worship. The only one who he would continue sacrificing for.

“Ah, that reminds me. Heard about your boyfriend, such a shame really. He was so young…” he pondered out loud, not a single bit apologetic.

“That’s rich coming from the man who put a bullet between his eyes.” you hissed, crossing your arms as a man walked past and openly gawked at your breasts. 

Though that quickly resulted in a not so subtle threat, with Seonghwa leaning back to adjust his jacket, only to reveal the grip of a menacing handgun, tucked away into a leather holster. The visitor, who had purposely slowed his pace, bolted from the spot, giving the gangster one final look before rushing to the other side of the club. As if looking for your praise, or approval, Seonghwa hid the gun from sight once again and gazed at you, softer and more affectionate than before, his eyes transforming to take on more of a doe shape and inducing an uncomfortable pain. When you did not satisfy him, he clicked his tongue and ran his hands over his hair, shorter at the sides and revealing a buzzcut design that had begun to fade with growth. The new style suited him, you decided. Almost too well. It was frustrating.

“Ah, ah, no. Not me. My hands are clean, sweetheart.” he raised them, a hilarious attempt at trying to prove his innocence which you chose to ignore. No matter how obsessively he washed his acts away, blood was more than a rusty red liquid. It was a curse that stained the skin of those who wished to draw it with an eternal permanence, passing from generation to generation until the Earth was saturated with the hue. Ignoring the blatant bullshit, you mused the fate of the man who you had used to fill the void.

“What the fuck did he even do to you guys?”

“Oh you know how it is. Got a taste of success, got a little too greedy… and kaput. Didn’t keep a clean inventory and clean percentages, you see. And I don’t like when things aren’t clean.” you did not have to be brought into the matter any further than that. You certainly did not need to be let in on the fact that your ex was actually one of the best dealers in his district. He was just a little too close to you for Seonghwa’s comfort.

“Sure you don’t. You said the word, what, four times already? That’s why you even launder your money…” you muttered, not noticing how Seonghwa’s elbow slid closer to you until his hand began to play with a lock of your hair.

“Ah, so attentive, counting what I say…” twirling it around his finger, he observed how the myriad of colour from the club’s lights managed to change its shine, and let it fall back into an alluring cascade, “... and not only that, we also do pest control. The last thing we need is lowly vermin poisoning our supply chains and ruining user experience for our end clients, right?”

“I still don’t-”

“Funny how you got involved with him. Of all people. A drug dealer.” it was easy to make you shift focus. One mention of your failed career, and you were gone. So, in a dire situation such as this, Seonghwa would be a fool not to use this fact.

“Guess he was the only one there to actually support me in the shitstorm. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Now, now, no need to thank me, darling, when I did nothing-”

“I was blacklisted, Seonghwa. Do you know what that means?” slamming the counter with your hand, you stood up off the stool and glowered. Oh, how adorable it was when you got so riled up. A darkness flashed across his eyes as he imagined you to be a tiny predator, ready to pounce. How endearing.

“I can try to guess, though something tells me you will provide more details.” he egged you on, enthralled by how you tried to hover over him, but still retained his favourite fragility.

“It means my dreams have gone up a rat’s ass. I wanted to be a nurse, Seonghwa. And yet, as soon as I get to work, the next day after helping you and your stupid goons, I get kicked out and sued.” The only downside that he could see was that he would not be able to have his way with you were all professional and in a dainty nurse’s outfit. Though… he would have had to make some adjustments to the scrubs for that. A few rips here and there would not hurt anybody.

“It really was only basic supplies that you permanently borrowed, and for the greater good at that. I still think the hospital over-exaggerated.” you had been more than benevolent. Overlooking status, background and appearance you had dashed to lend a hand. Seonghwa had counted on you to do that so that he could drag you down closer to himself.

“In the eyes of the law, I am a thief who has gotten away with far too light a punishment.”

“And I see a saviour.” a merciful fucktoy who he had initially simply been playing around with, only to discover that you were so pathetically trusting that he could not help but fall in love.

“Poetic.” you responded sarcastically, raising your eyebrows. Seonghwa was bearing witness to the dissolution of your resistance. As much as you wished you could keep the game up, his charming falsities and unforgivable seduction were a delight that you could not withstand. 

“You know one of those ‘stupid goons’ celebrated his wedding anniversary with his wife two months ago? And then the other sent his daughter to primary school not long ago… Like I said, you made a sacrifice that those bureaucratic little shits, hidden away in offices, would never make. You care for people.”

His hands snaked to your hips, and he pulled you closer to him until you were trapped with his legs on either side of you. Even though physically you were the one looking down, every passing second you felt more and more like a lab experiment or a sample under a microscope. He was dissecting you, tearing you apart and rebuilding you once again so that you would be just right. Just for him. His favourite doll.

“Seems I care for the wrong people.” you alluded to the man in front of you, a shallow, staggered breath escaping you as he gripped a little tighter.

“Do you regret it?” his eyes. Two dark pools which housed your tailored terror, but had to be so lovable. The devil always took on the most beautiful form.

Your silence told him everything he needed to hear. You could have pushed him away, slapped him across the cheek. Hell, you could have told San to get lost - though in that case you would have probably been disposed of and continued your existence as an addition to a faraway landfill. But that was besides the point. Because you were not indifferent. And the boundary between love and hatred was nearly invisible.

“So happy to have you here. At last.” just as he was about to bring you into an embrace, drunk from the elation of your first meeting in what had to have been an eternity, you pressed down on his shoulders, narrowly avoiding the stark white collar of his shirt that was laid over his jacket, and pushed away, hostility written over your features.

“That’s why I bet you are proud of having sold me out.”

“Who said that?” confused, Seonghwa inquired.

“I just know it.”

“And I am asking, who told you that I sold you out?” stuck in what could only be equated to a tug of war, the two of you were challenging each other to ‘try their worst’.

“My e-”

“The druggie. Right. Of course he did. I bet he told you a lot of things.”

“Like how you used me…”

“Uh-huh,” his hands glided up your body until he stood up, and your arms were limp at your sides once more.

“Corrupted me…”

“My love, you’re still an angel,” he cupped your chin and gazed deep into your eyes, noting that it was as if you were reciting something that you had practised time and time again in front of a mirror until it made no more sense to you than white noise.

“Then betrayed me…”

“Something I would not do under any circumstance. You know what family honour is.” Seonghwa did not betray. He acted in ways that benefited him. And if it just so happened to leave others hurt, it was their fault for caring so much.

“Family. What the hell do you know about family?” you were seething. He was burning you. Again, and again, and again. And you were readily giving in every single time.

“Certainly more than you. Oh sweetheart, I know how lonely you have been-” he wanted to comfort you, even if that made him nauseous, but thankfully, you were not in the mood and stepped away, making him let go of you.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I only want to-”

“I said. Don’t. Seonghwa. Look. I- I hate you. Okay?” music to his ears. How you desperately tried to get away from him and from your own feelings. Scared little pet.

“Are you trying to convince yourself?” the phrase echoed within you as you took another step backwards, realising too late that you had let him wrap himself around you like a hungry python. You needed out. This was it. Final. You needed some air. Or better, to return home, climb into bed, and pretend this never happened. Future you could handle this problem, present you was irrational, risk-seeking and a harm to the self.

“N-no. I. I need to go.”

“You know you can’t.” Seonghwa whispered out loud as he watched your determined departure, right up until you were behind that heavy velvet curtain. 

He picked up his glass and studied the clear, russet contents, and let the liquid slosh around to take in the aroma. With a quick sip, he was back to his usual self, and the smile that was on his face was instantly erased. Bored, the dangerous man leaned against the counter with the weight of his body, imitating your earlier posture and commanded:

“San, I know you’re lurking, come here.” Indeed, in a matter of seconds, his bodyguard appeared from behind one of the pillars that was located closer to the kitchen.

“Yes, sir?”

“You see that man over there?” raising his glass, Seonghwa pointed in the direction of one of the very dedicated hounds who was by the stage. He had been particularly involved in your act, and from the moment Seonghwa had first noticed him, to the very last moment that you were up there, the tipsy man had probably dropped at least a couple thousand dollars’ worth of cash. He was the perfect candidate for the gangster’s plan.

“The one in the green hoodie?”

“Yes, that sleazy bastard. How about we cast him as the bad guy, huh? Payment upfront.” San nodded. The method was simple, and had shown tremendous success in the past. He hummed in agreement, waiting for Seonghwa to add his usual:

“Temporarily, of course. All in good fun.”

“Understood. What should I lay over?”

“That a certain Y/N is particularly ravishing after her performances, and will be at the back exit in about twenty minutes.”

Bang bang, I hit the ground…

Maybe what that gangster had said was true, and that you were too good for the ‘overworld’. It was an attractive thought. Perhaps after the doors to the medical field and consequently a wide range of other careers you had considered had been shut, due to your newfound, albeit light, but nevertheless a serious enough criminal record, you ended up simply tapping into your true nature as a creature of the underworld. While out there, you had always been average, here you were a saviour. A goddess. A queen. Maybe you indeed were celebrated and had gifts thrown at your feet exactly because you deserved nothing less. The chasm that was the dark side of the corrupt city might be your true home, and you had simply been in denial, running away from it. 

How easy it was to fall back into your patterns. As you sank into Seonghwa’s eyes, you recollected your time with him. The attentiveness that he had shown you. The way in which he would patiently listen to you explain obscure medical terminology, convincing you that, to him and him alone, it was interesting. You had felt blessed then. And that was exactly why you wanted to erase him. As you strutted down the corridor that ran behind the main hall of the club, leading you to the back rooms that were for staff and artists only, you shook your head. Wishful that this would help you get rid of the reminiscing of the last ‘easy’ time of your life. Before you revealed to yourself that you would commit a crime in the name of love. Even when that love was merely an illusion. Confused by your own feelings, still seeing a glowing red target over Seonghwa’s evil heart while making out golden glimmers on its surface, you stormed into the changing room and let out a sigh of relief as you saw it completely empty. You could meditate on your frightening conversation with the devil himself.

There was something therapeutic about the wind down from your performances, if you were to forget about the side eyes you were being thrown after having been caught talking to the owner of the establishment, and according to some of the whispers, a very desired man. How they could overlook the fact that he was more cold blooded than a snake when it came to satisfying their need for a happy and tranquil life amazed you. With the thumping of the music feeling so far away that you were practically enveloped in a sea of cotton, and the lights emitting a more familiar fluorescence, like a late night grocery store rather than the strobes, sickly colour selections and kaleidoscopic reflections, the changing room was a sort of safe space. You were trying to stuff the bills that you had collected, and the chunky stripper heels into a nondescript sports bag, after having covered yourself up with something more appropriate for a ‘so late it could be considered early’ trek back home.

You needed time to yourself before you were going to black out and make some foolish decisions concerning that conniving man. It was a curse, without a doubt. Not dissimilar to the very drugs you had smuggled, he was hard to quit. And you hated him for it. At least this was what you had been openly declaring, and were not going to give up on. If anything, this was your new habit. Imagining revenge on Park Seonghwa. You were going to get it. Eventually. You still had some hope left in you, even though your feet were currently struggling to hold you up, even in your sneakers, a hint of a fire in your chest as your memories of the man were refreshed. Did he have to look more handsome than before? More refined? More demonic?

When you had met him during a night out with your friends at a bar in the classier side of town, Seonghwa had introduced himself as an ‘intern’, which you now understood as one of the lower ranking goons who did the dirty work. Now, he was all white shirt and spotless sleeves, smooth skin and perfectly manicured hands, only a breath away from being a model rather than a hardened and ruthless criminal. Perhaps it was this contrast that had resulted in the man having cemented the nickname ‘Mars’ for himself, as you had found out from a few tipsy insiders who would do anything for a private show. The god of war, destruction, bloodshed, all in the name of an interpretation of peace and prosperity. The dangerous balance on the tip of a razor, by which you had undoubtedly been slaughtered.

He was a mastermind, a monstrosity in a beautiful guise as he ran, alongside the uppermost echelons of the mafia that effectively had the city, and at this point you would not put it beyond them - the country in a chokehold, the numerous operations that kept the underworld’s heart pumping. An inky fluid, viscous and bitter, one which you had accepted in a pretty glass of so-called love without thinking twice. Seonghwa knew how to make you happy. And the longer that went on, the more of a problem that became. He knew just how to spin thread out of you, how to wrap you again, and again around his finger until you were nothing more than one of the rings that he would occasionally wear to complete his outfits. And in such a hypnotised state, you thought you were doing the right thing when you broke into the place that was housing your professional dreams, and crept to retrieve some of the most sought after medication. Just for him. Oh how he thanked you then. How he had professed his love to you and praised you. You had been on cloud nine. Until you found out that someone had anonymously filed a report against you, provided all evidence, somehow all in the same night, and by the next midday you had already been summoned to court.

The day when you had stepped out of the courthouse was imprinted in your mind. Having received a much kinder sentence than one you had expected - more financial and reputational damages than anything else, you had been upbeat enough to engage in smalltalk with the state-provided lawyer whose name you had forgotten in a few hours. At least you had been that way before you saw him across the street. Lower body hidden by a jet black, matte sports car, black suit, black shirt, black hair… the reaper himself having arrived to taunt you and laugh at the death of your career. A carefree smile had been replaced by a deep scowl as the gears clicked, the puzzle completed itself in your head. Seonghwa. It had to be Seonghwa. It took every fibre of your being to restrain yourself from committing another criminal offence and attack him, and instead watch him climb into his car as though you had been nothing but empty space to him, and speed off in the direction of uptown. A murder most fowl. Of your soul, of your heart. And what mind you had left, you had promised to dedicate to hunting him down.

You sighed as you heaved the emergency exit door open, having avoided the main back entrance out of fear that Seonghwa might be there, or anywhere inside Club Estelle. What did you mean by hunting him down? Now that he was there. Within slapping distance, if you were to put it in an unceremonious manner. What were you actually seeking? Was it your mind twisting your desire for him to simply make a return and instead of stalling on your destruction, simply go on ahead with it and shoot you down? You shook your head, pulling the hoodie that was covering your otherwise scandalous outfit tighter around you as the cool air enveloped you. It was almost peaceful. Almost quiet. Almost.

“Hey Y/N~ you put on suuuuch a goood show, baby girl… fucking fantastic… damn. Was told I could catch you here and damn, you are a goddess.”

You snapped in the direction of the sound, finding a man who was rocking side to side approaching you. Relatively tall, scruffy, with dirt-stained clothing hanging off, unfortunately, a more athletic-looking body. So striking him with one of the heels in your bag and running was out of the question. Besides, who knew how he would act if he saw the cash? You backed away having been met by the stench of what had to have been at least three shots of the strongest liquor in the house, and found yourself with your back pressed against a wall of the dimly lit alleyway between the club, and a line of dumpsters, with this very drunk problem whose perverted grin was inducing an uncontrollable trembling. The longer you stood in this state of a showdown, much like a wild west film, the more he was suffocating you with the overwhelming, acrid stench of sweat, cigarettes and whatever concoction his stomach had made out of the alcohol he had consumed.

“Can I get a… private show, huh? Swear’ve been good just for you baby girl.”

You suddenly felt so alone. Abandoned. Terrifying conclusions running through your head. There was not a single performer at the club who you were more than acquaintances with, and even then, would they help? The club bouncers rarely got involved since the majority of the customers were high-paying, and apparently the rule there was: if they had cash, they could behave like trash. Maybe a dead stripper to them was just the usual night. Who would you have called in the past? You hated to admit the name, the face that floated into your brain as soon as you asked yourself the question. But Seonghwa had a way with situations like this. He had stood up for you before, to the point where you had to kiss away his pain and treat his wounds - though that was nothing compared to the scarlet sight that he had painted in your honour. It was horrific, and yet, he had made you smile. It had probably been the grandest gesture of adoration that you had ever received. 

Still managing to keep some distance between you and the disgusting creature, your brain went into overdrive. You were backing away from him, but there was only so much time before he would pounce. As much as you wanted to just scream your heart out and pray some, well, a very specific, knight in shining armour would appear out of nowhere, you were a big girl and knew that the stories you indulged in reading were not true. In real life, and especially your own life, you had to be your own hero. It was your mission to remind yourself that Seonghwa was a villain. So you tried to project him onto your temporary enemy.

Although the action made bile rise in your throat, you peered into the drunk’s eyes, trying to read his actions. Not quite walking straight, he took another step towards you, supporting himself by pushing on the dumpster to his left, your right. You immediately mirrored it, your hand feeling for the wall to your right. A couple more steps and you would be right beside a trash pile that you had spotted when you first appeared in the alley way from the staff exit – the bastard sure was persistent and did not want to give up on you. You sneered – it could almost be his redeeming quality, compared to a certain someone else who liked to drive into the metropolis and then turn into an omniscient poltergeist.

“Come on, why are you being such a tease? Weren’t you having the time of your life earlier? So sexy, don’t you want to use that?”

He was making your skin crawl. You were trying your hardest to not interact with him more than necessary and stayed quiet. One wrong move and you were going to be in much deeper trouble than this. The sort where the best-case scenario you envisioned was showing up in the news, not so alive and in a ditch. The situation reminded you of a short story by Rudyard Kipling, Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, but instead of a face off between a mongoose and a king cobra, there was a young woman with a flurry of ruminations and a myriad of regrets. Though the latter was definitely swaying like a snake.

“Hey, baby girl, are you not going to come to daddy any time soon? I am getting impatient, baby, and you don’t want to piss me off.” He growled, his previously aimless blabber turning into a threat.

Your body was screaming for you to just make a run for it, but you knew better than that. This guy, unfortunately for you, was sporty enough and lanky enough to catch up to you in no time. On top of his build, you had the brilliant idea to wear new heels for your show today, which had cut into your flesh just enough to hurt, as if scolding you and repeating ‘I told you so’ and leaving your feet exhausted. As you stole a glance at the more comfortable pair of shoes for which you had settled, it was as though a lightbulb went off in your head. That was right. You did have manoeuvrability. You just needed to get one hit. 

You neared the exit of the alley, judging your proximity solely by the light emanating from a lonely street lamp right back on the main street. You steadied yourself as you saw the man open his mouth again and crouched further down to reach for an empty wine bottle that was lying on top of the pile you had been counting on. Keeping it hidden from the man, you stepped to the side, obscuring half of your body behind the large trash bin.

“What are you doing you bitch, huh? Answer me. I’ll give you one more chance.”

You remained silent, sliding your bag off your shoulder for better movement, pleading that it would not make a noise. The first glide down your upper arm was smooth enough, though your relief did not last long as it accelerated and came down to crash on some debris. That appeared to trigger new aggression in your opponent, as he practically snarled and lunged forwards, arms outstretched. You jumped backwards, only nearly missing a pipe protruding from one of the walls, and made contact with one of the walls, tripping the man as you did so. You were not thinking clearly, vision a blur, your surroundings spinning. You had only one mission now – survive. While the man was picking himself up, cursing and inspecting his painfully grazed hands, your eyes focused on the back of his head.

What if this was Seonghwa? What would you do? He had betrayed you, didn’t he? He had no right to be in your life again, regardless of your instincts. Regardless of how terrific he looked and how much he wanted you. An otherworldly rage overtook you as you imagined the devil in place of this sinner. In his designer suit, with his slicked back hair and chains that would glitter like stars even in the dim light. The set up made your body act on its own. You were fuelled by your anguish, and each sensation in the present turned into a re-enactment of your inner turmoil that had built up over the time. The guttural shriek, the stinging tears threatening to roll down your cheeks as you shut your eyes and swung with all your might only to meet-

-nothingness. A strong grip of your wrist and a firm chest pressed against your back prevented you from moving. And again, that familiar scent. Your drug. Your demise. The emergency exit door snapped itself shut, suggesting that Seonghwa had only now made it into the alleyway, and an odd sense of calm enveloped you. For the time being, he was the lesser of the many evils.

“Oh, ‘s you! Mar-”

The stinging sound of a gunshot, lulled into an ambient slumber with a silencer. Time slowed, and you swore you could see the bullet soaring through the air, about to collide with the skull of the man whose fate had been sealed. But a blink before you could bear witness to the impact, darkness overtook you, and you were embraced in an overwhelming sweetness, vision sealed with a resolved, mercilessly protective hand. You were spun in a macabre dance, now facing the gangster, breathing against the crook of his neck and focusing on the freezing cold jewellery that caressed your cheek. Nothing more than a sigh, a tainted soul escaping from the mouth of the drunkard, before you heard a thud of his body colliding with the cold concrete. 

You sincerely wished you could feel remorse, but all that you could identify in your body was an insatiable curiosity, and a perplexing connection of the societally horrific event with what had happened to your ex. So, that was how he had been disposed of, huh. The same damn signature. And he was most likely lying when he was trying to assure you that it was not the same man. His hand was too stable, heart was too calm, and the way in which he pressed his soft lips to your jaw, and once your sight was returned to you, your cheek, were all telltale signs that this was not the first time he had killed with you as his prime motivation.

“You’re awfully calm for someone who was ready to murder, darling.”

The words rang out in your head and the realisation hit you, cutting through the comforting fog that had settled over your psyche as you drifted in black irises. The bottle which you had picked out of the trash to serve as your weapon suddenly felt unimaginably heavy, and it began to slip.

“Now, now, we don’t need to cause any more of a mess…” gingerly, the bottle was taken from you, and clinked against the smoking gun as Seonghwa was more preoccupied with keeping your full attention on him. While you were still tame enough for him to manoeuvre, He returned the weapon under his jacket.

Dizzy, you swore you were within inches of delirium. Darting from one one part of his face to another, you soon spotted a tiny splatter of blood on his cheek, and lifted a trembling hand to caress it. Eyes wide, you watched as the crimson spread under your thumb and left a trail whilst you were wiping it away. Lips parted, you were locked in a soundless scream. This was not a joke. That man, no longer a man, a soon to be carcass, crow food, was dead. And without a doubt, Seonghwa was going to tell you that it was your doing. Turning slowly, you caught a glimpse of the aftermath, and the dark dots that now decorated Seonghwa’s side that had been the closest to the drunkard.

“Look at me, darling. Look at me.”

“But I, but he-”

“I said. Look at me.”

“But you kill-”

A crash resonated as Seonghwa threw the bottle against the opposite wall, the olive-coloured rainfall covering the dead body and rippling over the dumpsters. Knees buckling, you wanted to collapse next to it then and there, only to have a gloved hand force your face to be right against his.

“You are a lethal flower, darling. Shame this had to happen.”

“Shame?”

“You’re shaking. Did this man touch you?” with a concerned air, Seonghwa inquired, his breath hot against your skin. Discreetly, he began to step towards the exit of the alleyway.

“N-no… but-”

“Did he scare you?”

“Y-yes… a lot.”

“For fucks sake, these idiots have no self control, hurting my precious angel like this.”

Precious angel. You were his precious angel. So he did care, at least somewhat. You had a space, a chance to corrupt what was left of his heart. Your forehead was against his as you allowed him to guide you out of the cramped space, careful to sidestep when he told you, lifting one leg, the other when he whispered that you should do so. This felt right. He was back. He was here. He was ready to do anything for you. This was where you wanted him. While you were busy processing what had just unfolded and fading into your beloved manifestations, Seonghwa pulled you into an embrace and began to direct two of his men who had snuck in through the emergency exit and were awaiting instructions. After a couple of raises of the eyebrow, and one point towards the bag which you had abandoned, they began to tiptoe around the area, ready for a rapid spring cleaning.

Wherever he was taking you, you had no choice but to follow. Such was the rule. Even if you had other ideas and plans, now that Seonghwa was back, you had to fall into his rhythm, and figure out a new strategy that would not cause a dissonance. Your clouded mind was lulled by his low instruction. Slow down here, now heading out onto the street there… you were a puppet in his hold. You were… a criminal. Weren’t you? You froze just as the two of you approached a parked car, and judging by Seonghwa’s immediate instinct to reach into his pocket, you assumed it was his. No, you couldn’t. This was… you needed to go home. Conflicted, the hold you had on Seonghwa’s jacket loosened.

“Darling?”

“I… I need to go home.” his soft smile fell, replaced with a judgemental grimace. Retaining a fraction of decency, he refrained from shoving you against the vehicle, instead choosing to subject you to scrutiny.

“You are home.”

“Here?” you surveyed your surroundings, figuring out that you were outside Estelle, and luckily, there were no longer any stragglers who regularly tried to make it through into the venue past doors closing. The street was ghastly, located in one of the most dangerous parts of the metropolis housing anything from cheap alcohol and sex to designer drugs and assassins. Anything one could desire, they could find here. Was this really your home?

“Yes. With me.” Seonghwa was reeling you back. A click, and the car was unlocked. Keeping you within reach, he leaned to open the passenger door. You shook your head.

“No… no… I don’t want to be a-”

“Don’t want to be a what?” he insisted, and squeezed your upper arms, as if he was about to shake the answer out.

“A criminal.”

“The fuck?” 

“I am… look… I was… Again I was so ready to-” the man who was probably still in that alleyway, blood spilling like wine out of a glass that toppled over, occupied your vision, and you gawped at the bloodstain on Seonghwa’s cheek. 

“But you didn’t. You did not kill him.” Sighing, he stated as-a-matter-of-factly, not wishing to deal with a breakdown, far too attracted to you physically to care for what effect his expression of affection had.

“But I made you…”

“Oh baby, no you didn’t. I did it out of love for you. You had no part in this except being my angel. Darling, Y/N, come on…” picking his words carefully, he permeated your barriers, crawling into the expanse of your mind palace like a virus.

“I am no angel. The law literally says I committed crimes. I should not be here. I should never be here-”

Evidently this caring approach was not functional. You were simply melting into him and turning into a sappy mess, instead of the coldhearted bitch who he had spoken to in the club. Where were you? Where was the goddess who wanted nothing more but to hurt him? He had deconstructed you a little too much, it seemed, you needed a bit more venom in your system. Seonghwa snapped.

“You know what. You are right.”

“Huh?” still too dazed to answer properly, you hummed.

“Who do you think got you out of a jail sentence in the first place, huh?”

“I- I don’t… What?” eyes narrowing, Seonghwa peered into your soul. He needed you to wake up if he was going to give into his obsession.

“Talk to me. Take a guess. Do you really think that the judge was benevolent? Fuck… girl, you’re naive. That bastard passes his bank account around the courtroom, you really think he woke up one day and felt like being nice just because? Oh no… sweetheart. I got you out. You hear me? I did. Because like hell are you gonna be anybody else’s. Huh, you tried your best with that idiot rotting in the ground. Bet you screamed my name as he fucked you, right? Tell me, is that right? SPEAK, sweetheart, don’t piss me off.”

Noticing how you could not contain your tremors, he released his grip on your upper arms, only to position your hands so that they rested on his waist, while his cupped your face. What was supposed to be an intimate gesture felt like a stare down with a wild beast. His expression was that of a predator, pupils dilated so he could refresh the memories of every piece of you, while his lips curled into what you interpreted as a crooked, pitying smile.

If you did not know better, you would have believed that your love that was reflected in his dark orbs was actually his. But he was a twisted, terrifying man, who could only take. As such, most you could expect was his suffocating coddling, his treatment of you like you were of his design. His cooing as he peered at you and saw how you were putty under his touch. You hated him precisely because you knew you could never escape.

“Oh baby… my lovely little angel, look at you. Don’t you know that I would do anything to make you smile? Come on, you know that right?” he wiped a stray tear with his right hand, and you swore you caught a quiff of blood and gunpowder, blending with a hint of alcohol that was still on his breath from earlier, all to be washed away by that scent you always adored, vanilla, flowers, coffee. Seonghwa. You nodded, which seemed to provide relief for the man.

“And I will never let your pretty hands get dirty, okay? If you need somebody dead just say it my darling and I will do it. Me. You are my angel. And now, let me prove it to you, alright?”

Whatever noise had existed before was now but a soft buzz of a streetlamp. No rustling. Not a single droplet. Suspended in an intimate fog, you studied the criminal, the hardened killer, the bloodthirsty demon in front of you. The one who was so hellbent on getting you to follow him to the realm below, even though you had never left. It was simple. He led, you followed. He told you to jump, you jumped. That was all he wished for. And perhaps this was indeed your fate. Not to be rushing around in hospital corridors, nor to be collecting banknotes in a g-string. But to completely fall from grace for the embodiment of an apocalypse, who more than willingly closed the space between you to taste the lust you had been suppressing, relishing your shared sin.

Bang bang, that awful sound…

The wind styled your locks as Seonghwa sped deeper into the night, abandoning the artificial lighting of the underworld district. From bars and clubs, to sleepy neighbourhoods, and finally, the inspiring expanse of rolling hills and rocky slopes, he was taking you to a place where you would never be bothered nor controlled, yet one that gave you a view of the city that was so breathtaking, that it was easy to believe you could destroy it. Estelle would be smaller than ever, and your problems would be nothing more than a haze on the line of the horizon. The cliffside had been your spot when you were something of an item, with you always begging for Seonghwa to take you there, if not for the alone time, then at least for the striking skyline. How oddly romantic of him to pick the spot now.

Relaxing into the leather seat of the Rolls Royce convertible, a new addition to Seonghwa’s collection - as he had informed before starting the car, you tested the strength of the breeze by stretching your hand out of the window and letting it float. After a couple of tries, you finally got into the right pose for minimal resistance, and pretended that you were a bird, soaring, cageless. The glimmering dots of the city even further from you than now as you spread your little wings and lifted yourself towards freedom. In moments like these, you were happy to be able to enjoy the simplicities, and it was easier than ever to pretend that you were not the Y/N who had fallen so irreversibly for a beast, that to you even his lies sounded like the truth. And, of course, it was easy to imagine that Seonghwa himself was capable of feeling love.

He did not bother taking off his gloves nor, which was uncharacteristic of him, clearing the remnants of the execution off his face, as if it was a badge of honour. Interestingly, the more you observed the gangster, the more you got used to the new additions and even took them as complementing features. While he kept one hand on the steering wheel, he continuously seeked contact with you, the other gripping your thigh as if to make sure that you were still there in the car with him and were not a hallucination. The exhilarating velocity at which the car dashed past trees, somnolent villas and road signs was barely letting you catch your breath due to Seonghwa choosing to keep the roof off, and so to stabilise yourself you returned the gesture. The smirk into which his lips curled was not quite as threatening as it had appeared before, however his aggressive slam on the accelerator made you start praying. What would the family that had not yet disowned you think, if they were to find you in a crashed car with one of the most notorious men in the region? You chuckled; they would probably agree that at least the last thing you saw was beauty himself.

Finally, you approached the secluded location, and fortunately, it was as abandoned as ever. Grinding to a halt on a gravelly clearing, beyond which were two lines of wooden fences that had been set up at the very edge of the small cliff, Seonghwa set the car into parking, cranked the handbrake and turned off the ignition. A deafening silence overtook you as you looked up at the night sky, twinkling stars reminding you of the collection of silver that hung around the enigmatic fiend’s neck and on his left ear. In the absence of machinery, you could feel his presence even more acutely, and the anticipation for what he undoubtedly had planned was reducing the supposed coolness of the hour into a mere deception. Your body was burning up, and as Seonghwa’s hand moved higher and higher until it was teasing you by playing with the drawstrings of your tracksuit bottoms you had to consciously remind yourself to breathe.

You stared out at the metropolis through the windshield, registering your beloved criminal’s movements towards you. As you studied the glinting whites, reds and yellows that formed the urban starscape, you could not help but ponder how, out of all the millions of people, in this architectural phenomenon that seemed to stretch on forever, on a day when you were not even supposed to be where you had ended up being, you had run into none other than Park Seonghwa. And as fate would have it, you were naive enough to let him take everything from you. And being the loved up, hypnotised fool that you were, you thanked him for the misery in which you found yourself, because at least he made you feel. With him you were a disaster, but you saw life in colour. With him it was impossible to tell whether there would be a tomorrow, but you could exist in an exuberant today. With him, the everchanging palette of emotion had a canvas to paint on. And tonight, you were going to let the masterpiece create itself.

“Take the gloves off if you want to touch me so badly.” you derided him for his eagerness, though did not see any dampening to it. On the contrary, he appeared to be more drawn to you than ever, mumbling a ‘sure thing, darling’ as he unbuttoned the leather, and slid the pair off his hands with his canines to speed up the process. The gloves found a home in the compartment underneath the wheel, to join the harness and pistol that he had stashed away there.

“Good?” he asked, giving you a mischievous grin.

“Good.” no more words were needed for him to pull you towards him, and lock your lips together in a feverish, thrilling kiss.

Oh, how you missed this. How you missed the mind-numbing sensation of his hand on the back of your neck, how soft his lips were compared to his sharp and intimidatingly stunning appearance. You moved in a familiar rhythm, having recognised one another’s alluring presence and only wanting more with each passing second. Frustrated with the remaining distance, Seonghwa growled into you and dragged you by your top; understanding his goal, you rose from your seat and promptly were settled on his lap, grinding against his growing erection that was concealed by too many layers of clothing for your liking.

Brushing his hair back, lightly tugging on it as you reached the ends, you were giving yourself up to the scalding hot hellfire. Your memory did not fail you: the action elicited a groan, and the kiss was further deepened until your lungs were screaming for oxygen. Pulling away, you gasped, only to be alerted by a stinging pain on your cheek, and a hostile grimace on the man, whose hand was hovering next to your jawline.

“Did I say you could pull away?”

“And since when are you so damn needy?” You challenged, slapping away the hand that had just collided with you, and placing yours on his exposed throat, not bothering to ease into the action as you pushed your digits into the sensitive skin, restricting his airflow and preventing him from taunting you with a mocking retort.

You continued to rock your hips forward, sensing your own arousal climbing further and further amidst the enjoyment of the man’s temporary obedience. You watched his eyes roll back momentarily, and he attempted to tilt his head towards you and steal your lips, only for you to wriggle in his lap until you were completely out of his reach, still holding his neck.

Seonghwa was seeing stars, and yet amongst them you still shined the brightest. There you were. This was who he was searching for. When he was at his limit, and could no longer withstand the restraint, he rapidly reached for your wrist and yanked your arm away, making you yelp. To prevent you from attempting anything similar, he used his hands as cuffs to keep you under his control, and pulled you to him. Giving you a smirk corrupted by lust, he kissed you again, only this time letting his long tongue part your mouth, and swirl itself around.

Wanton sounds filled your mind and preoccupied your ears as you parted, strings of saliva connecting you. Apparently dissatisfied, Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, and gripped your waist. Sitting up, he mumbled ‘back seat’ and stumbled out of the car with you wrapped around him. In seconds, you were lying on the couch-like leather, Seonghwa above you as he shifted his attention to your neck, leaving trails of spit, and nipping at the skin until he saw the beloved bruising begin to show. Sucking above the jugular vein, he imagined himself tearing you apart then and there. Destroying you. But the way in which your hands swiftly moved to unbutton his shirt was too enticing to not commend.

“Look who is needy now.” he teased, and reached for the zipper on your hoodie, unable to contain a pleased sigh as he saw that you had not changed out of the white dancewear. As soon as the hoodie was off, and flying in the direction of the steering wheel, he let himself devour the tainted goddess that you were.

Trailing over the fabric, he did not wish to take it off, the image of you around the pole still fresh in his mind and amplifying his lust. His lips made contact with your chest as he added more love bites to his abstract design.

“You drove me crazy earlier tonight with those moves of yours. How could you even consider anything else when you have a body made to sin?”

“I think you are batshit by default.”

“Do you want me to punish you again?” he threatened, discontented when it had no effect on you as you contended. 

“By what, hitting me? Two can play that game-” as soon as he saw your hand flying towards him, he caught it and forced it down by you, and chuckled.

“Be a good girl and you’ll come.”

“Big deal.”

“Says the whore who was grinding against me.”

He shifted to untie your sweats, and dragged the material down to reveal your matching white g-string, stopping for a second before moving to take it off too. The bra was going to be enough for him.

“Says the reprobate with a hardon from the bare minimum.”

He did not respond, too enraptured by the sight before him. Your form, laid out and so familiar, and yet, the newfound resolve and the bite in your words was boundlessly more attractive than the mellow nurse in training that he had fucked before. The blaze that had festered and grown within you, painting your psyche and very essence in the soot of detestation was a guiding light to him, a star in the pitch black that he gravitated towards, and wished to take over. Your strength and determination spurred him on and inspired him to make you reach the point of no return. How? He was yet to decide. But that came after he had his fill of your intoxicating body.

“Damn, Y/N, do I even need to get you ready for me? You’re so fucking wet-” he remarked, running a hand over your pussy, with it immediately receiving a dose of your slick.

“Guess you don’t.” you countered, attempting to shut your legs together, but to no avail as your brattiness only encouraged him.

“You know what. I am in a giving mood. A changed man. Ready to commit some good deeds.” he announced to you in a low, borderline monstrous tone as Seonghwa pulled you by your ankles closer to him and began to work at your arousal.

After a slow start, where he languidly circled your nub until you gave out a whine, the man dedicated himself wholly, and soon enough, you were sinking into a sensual paradise. The two digits pumped into you, while with his other hand Seonghwa was stimulating your sensitive clit relentlessly, rubbing the erect nub until you were barely able to produce any sound at all. Pressing his thumb right against its tip, he curled his fingers and beckoned you closer to a climax, stopping the motions, he kept his hand inside as he replaced the finger that was dominating your clit with another thumb, and instead took to rapidly building you up with practised, fast flicks, higher, higher, just as you were about to-

Your hips jerked up, only to be met with a total emptiness as you tried desperately to coax Seonghwa into giving you your orgasm, to which he only responded with a click of his tongue, and a demonstrative sucking of his digits as you watched him with a glazed over expression.

“You rude, unbearable menace.”

“Awh, is my precious angel angry that I did not give you what you wanted?” he asked, giving his cock a couple of pumps before making a circular motion with his index finger and ordering you.

“On your hands and knees, like the bitch you are.” immediately, you obliged, unable to contain yourself after he had denied you what you had been seeking, with that devilish grin suggesting just how much the notion had excited him. Finally, he undid his belt and trousers, letting his aching length spring free, a hiss escaping Seonghwa as the cool air hit it.

Finding your slick-coated pussy with the tip of his cock, he teased you, repeatedly moving it back and forth between your folds. When you let out a whine, rocking your ass side to side in an attempt to deliver your need for more friction, Seonghwa merely chuckled and pushed forward, keeping his member flush against your sex, but not offering any relief. Your wetness coated him as he continued the torturous act, pausing to flick your clit and snicker at just how desperate you had become for his dick.

“Tell me if you want it.” Seonghwa wanted to hear you beg, or sigh, or anything else to suggest that you were fully pliable, but what had come out of your dirty mouth surpassed all his wishes.

“You want this pussy more than I want you, judging by how fucking hard your cock is, Hwa.”

Without as much as a warning, he put an end to the foreplay and slammed his hips against yours, sinking deep inside and groaning at the warm invitation of your walls. As he heard you yell out, he mercilessly glided back until only his tip was between your labia, only to thrust and bottom out once more. And again. And again. Just as he had remembered from the nights he had you before, this left you trembling, and soon enough your body was pleading for more, to which he happily obliged, smacking you on the ass and speeding up.

The feeling of you spasming around him and the feeble moans were an unrivalled art. He positioned one hand to hook around you and held it against the area right below your belly, biting his lip as he felt his dick pushing deep inside you, the bulge detectable by his palm. Closing his eyes, Seonghwa focused on this sensation, thereby slowing down ever so slightly, and moving to hit the spot that accelerated the growth of the knot in your tightening core. 

“A-ah… Seong… hwa…” you mewled into each stroke, hazy and unable to form anything more than nonsensical babble.

“That’s right, darling, only I can make you feel this good.”

Seonghwa was despicable, because he knew exactly how to make you lose your mind and fall apart under him and forget that you ever hated him at all, driven only by a carnal passion. Having had enough practice to study you, you were at his mercy as he provided the exact fullness that you had been desiring for so long, the exact firm thrusts that were bringing you closer and closer to a total fall, and the honey-laden voice that had you turning even weaker.

“My- darling-”

Your climax came down on you hard and fast, and you crumbled into the shaking that washed over you, forehead almost connecting with the back of the seats if not for the fistful of your tresses that Seonghwa had grabbed. Not letting you ride out your high, he quickened his pace and each thrust was making your vision darken and your moans turn into pathetic wails, drowned out by the lewd slapping of skin against skin that was lubricated by your orgasm. Using you as a fucktoy, he chased his own high and pushed you into an abyss of violent pleasure, ceasing to abuse your cunt only when he deemed it necessary for himself.

He slid his cock out of your pulsating sex, dragging it over your clit before ushering you to kneel before him. Movements still too slow and lagging, Seonghwa proceeded to guide one leg, then another down, so that you were ready for him. Lifting your chin, he he peered into your hazy orbs and commanded:

“Open.”

As you slackened your jaw and opened your mouth wide in obedience, he spat into it, and upon positioning one of his hands at the back of your head and the other at the base of his member, he slid into the warmth, sighing as your tongue glided along his throbbing length, as if encouraging him to go deeper until his tip hit the very limit and bumped against the back of your throat. You struggled to suppress your gag reflex, but the salaciousness of the combination of yours and his spit and your orgasm dribbling around his cock as you began to bob your head was driving Seonghwa to the brink of insanity, and you desperately wanted to see him unravel entirely.

“Ah… that’s it. My good cock slut. This mouth is built… for me.”

You allowed him to choke you as he fucked your throat with abandon, submitting to the oncoming waves of his orgasm. Clawing at his thighs you seeked balance, to which he responded by pushing you even closer, earning a muted yelp. The vibration drove him over the edge as he pumped himself inside you only a few more times, before collapsing into a series of staggered bucks of the hips and a muttering of filthy curses.

“Swallow darling, I bet you were dreaming of this- ah, fuck-” he exclaimed. 

He threw his head back as you centred yourself, trying to relax into how his hand that was tangled in your hair kept you so close that your nose was pressed against his pubic bone, though it proved to be an impossible challenge. In an effort to overcome the pain that spread over your jaw as Seonghwa refused to let go of you, you blinked away the moisture in your eyes and focused on the sensation of the hot, salty cum coating and running down the back of your throat. 

When he finally released you from his hold and let you fall onto the floor of the car, you sputtered and gasped for air, vision having grown blurry. While he did not comfort you, nor praise you for how well you had taken him, even though judging from his state you could make your own conclusions about the performance, this roughness felt more real, more honest than the intimacy you had shared before. You licked the corners of your mouth, collecting the remnants of his cum and spit, and crawled up onto the leather seating to be met with open arms, a gesture which, in your exhaustion, you accepted.

Captured in a lazy embrace you admired the universe that surrounded you. The dawn was imminent, with some of the more enthusiastic birds already greeting you with their songs and the distant rumble of the city beginning to pick up, and yet none of this felt real. It was like you were floating in the air, tethered to the mortal realm only by the man beside you. You had taken the liberty of snatching Seonghwa’s suit jacket, considering that the outerwear you had been wearing had been unceremoniously discarded and thrown into the driver leg space, outside of your immediate reach. 

You pondered what was going to happen after this broken reunion, that had been as always, orchestrated by the evil mastermind with a pretty face, currently resting on the seats, one arm over the door, the other on the back rest, head tilted to the sky. When you inspected one of the dark spots on the right sleeve of the jacket, you had come to realise that the dead man, who you had left behind to chase your pleasure, had, amidst his departure from the living, was trying to greet Seonghwa. Using his gang name, no less. You wanted to laugh until tears would be streaming down your face. Double over and, hands hitting your thighs, fail to compose yourself and continue laughing at just how ignorant you were. Fooled once again. Of course that scene had been this criminal’s doing. How else could anything ever happen to you if not with Seonghwa’s meddling? This overly involved, human embodiment of jeopardy who you had voluntarily invited in to share space and time, so elegant as he was devoid of movement, counting stars in the sky, the unbuttoned white shirt gracing his figure like a heavenly robe. It was a shame that you had to have chosen him to glorify, especially since he fit the role well enough to fit into your delusions.

As you sat upright, only to put your elbows on your knees and lean to catch your head in your hands, you mused whether you truly despised this man or not. It was almost habitual, routinely, to curse his name again, and again until it was nothing but an incoherent collection of syllables. It was your shield and clarity, your comprehension of the incorrigible man who, come the opportunity, would shoot you down the same way that he did to hundreds, if not thousands of others. It was heartbreaking, gut-wrenching, but unfortunately true. In his eyes the individuals with families, friends, hopes and dreams, hell, even those with nothing at all, were nothing but sacks of bone and blood that he could scare into submission, or drain if they disobeyed. Such were his methods. Methods that you had looked the other way from, making yourself believe that you were above that amateur, unjust purgatory. No matter how much of you Seonghwa received as an offering, it was never going to be enough. The seven deadly sins were a bucket list for him, and one in which he would outshine every reckless criminal. He was systematic, calculating, and would not hesitate to remove a variable that no longer served him.

You were serene, a ghost of a smile dancing on your lips. Slowly, you blinked, immersing yourself in the sensation of the bites, the kisses that the man you had once felt something for gifted you. Sultry tattoos that you would wear with the pride of a person who had defeated themselves, come to terms with, and learnt to coexist with inner turmoil. Nothing short of a miracle. If this hell were to continue, then you would simply have to adapt to live with the ebbs and flows of a turbulent tide. Hilarious, how you were treating Seonghwa as if he was a terminal disease that you had to live with, but the analogy was comforting. Until the moment when you would receive a bullet between your brows, you would strive to live fully, and remain indifferent. As much as you had wanted to ‘get the final word’, you had come to realise that all you had to say had been said, and he was no longer worth your time. Looking at the horizon, you spotted the sun beginning to stir under its heavy blankets, getting ready to rise.

“You thought about me, didn’t you?” Seonghwa’s voice broke your peace, and you turned to him, regarding his bewitching demeanour with a tired onceover.

“Hm?”

“You were thinking about me, in that alley way. Weren’t you?” so, he had realised now, too. However, you were not bothered to continue this discourse. Fascinating how the mind of even the most evil of men could get fixated on the simple things like a random good-for-nothing becoming a gourmet meal for maggots.

“I am not sure why or how that matters.”

“Would you kindly get the gun for me?” Now that piqued your interest, so you obliged, and reached over the front seats, aware of how your ass was on full display for Seonghwa though he had just seen you in even more lewd tones. After a couple of tries, the hand gun was in your hands, and hooking it by the trigger guard, you tried to pass it to its owner. To your surprise, he refused and you remained standing in your perplexion.

“What are you getting at?”

“You definitely thought about me. As a matter of fact you were thinking about doing this for a long time.” you could not deny that, and thus remained silent, “Remember how I taught you to fire a gun?” the man continued, and you nodded along.

“That I do, but again. Not sure how it applies.” you crossed your arms, the pistol swinging ever so slightly from your index finger.

“Don’t you want to fulfil your dream, darling?” he raised an eyebrow and grinned.

Another game. Another dare. Another attempt at making you feel something when you had no more emotions to spare. You were spent. For the first time since you had first come to be acquainted with Park Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Hwa, Mars, you saw a stranger. A passing face who you would regard, but most importantly, go on your merry way and never wish to see again. No more yearning, nor begging. He was cute when he thought he was in control. You chuckled, earning a questioning gaze from the ghost of your past.

“What is so amusing, my dear Y/N? So delighted that you can barely contain yourself?”

Oh, if only he knew. You steadied your breathing, and through half-lidded eyes, took in the man’s form that you had once worshipped. Everything had finally clicked, and unknowingly, the symphony in your mind was now fully composed, all to Seonghwa’s rhythm. Your magnum opus, by the visitation of a brutal muse, completed. With the softness of a stalking cat, you bent forward and came face to face with this boy, and with both hands, pressed the gun to his bare chest, smiling languidly as it collided with the necklaces to make a noteless tune. Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he followed your ascension back to now leaning against the front seat further from him, stifling a laugh of his own as he realised your intentions. The world held its breath as you dispelled your nightmare, and, light-hearted, like you were discussing daily happenings or the weather, asked him:

“You said you’d keep my hands clean, right?”

“Yes.” breathless, he whispered.

“You said you would kill anyone for me, right?” you continued sweetly, studying how Seonghwa checked the magazine and clicked the hammer with practised motions, appearing almost impressed.

“Yes.”

“Do anything to make me smile?” you tested, and he conceded, brushing a hand over the barrel, and looking up to memorise your every detail.

“Yes.”

“Then prove it. And make me smile. One last time.”

You uttered, admiring how his perfect skin, his gorgeous eyes, his dark soul glowed, caught ablaze in the rays of the rising sun.

Bang bang, my baby shot me down.

[austinslounge]

Okay, this is pure speculation and I’m just basically talking out of my ass, but IF the PR relationship theory is true, then Presley may be an indicator. I do believe that all Kaia’s public relationships were/ are PR stunts. So, let me fantasize a little. First, this whole Pete Davidson thing. After dating Ariana Pete was HOT(He still is tbh, I think that he is like cheap hype and publicity for celebs at this point). Cindy and Rande wanted Kaia to be famous since she was 10. I’m convinced that they paid for the articles before she was even legal. Then, as soon as Kaia turned 18, BOOM, Pete Davidson, dating, “candid photos” etc, etc. But then they probably had to break the contract, because Pete was indeed dealing with mental health/drug issues and our favorite helicopter parents finally realized it was a bad idea. I remember these photos of Kaia’s parents outside her apartment, when Pete was “freaking out”. It was late at night and I think it’s strange that the paps were there to witness this whole Kaia/Rande/Cindy/Pete drama. Gives me stages vibes too, tbh.

After Pete, there was this whole Cara thing going on. Presley’s meltdowns, tattooed face. If you read Daily Mails articles about this family in 2020, you can see that there was a lot of strange things going on and their reputation was not good, to put it nicely. Also, around this time Kaia got interested in acting. During this year, there were a lot of rumors and speculations about Kaia’s sexuality, what she has to do with Cara/Ashley etc. And then….surprisingly….she started dating Jacob Elordi! Yeah, right amid sexuality speculations, Presley’s meltdowns and starting her acting career. Her relationship with Jacob looks absolutely the same to me as her relationship with Austin. Stupid staged pap walks, zero chemistry, “happy and in love” articles. The only difference is that she posted something with him rarely on social media, unlike with Austin(Because making even a simple “Happy Birthday” is strictly forbidden, it seems). They date for a year and then suddenly break up. Maybe, this contract was just for one year, as Kaia was only 20 at that time. Besides, Euphoria hype was dying down slowly and there was another star raising on the radar. Austin is actually a very logical target for Kaia’s PR, especially since her family’s obsession with Elvis is creepy at this point.

So, yeah, a month after Elordi split, we have Kaia and Austin. Where did they meet? How? When? No one knows. I’m finally getting to the point why I think Presley might be an indicator of their relationship status. I hate this whole Gerber family, it gives me major Kartrashian vibes, BUT Presley is the only one I like and can tolerate. He seems the most real and genuine. I genuinely appreciate his idgaf attitude, so I think whatever PR campaign Gerbers have for Kaia, Presley is either not engaging at all or doing bare minimum. You mentioned that Presley unfollowed Austin for the first time in 2022. Looking back at her relationship with Elordi. Let’s say the contract was just for a year, maybe at first the contract with Austin was also just for one year, but then they saw how much publicity it brings Kaia and renewed it. Probably they went from one year contract to three. This may actually explain why Presley unfollowed Austin so suddenly this year.

But anyway, this is just my wild imagination. Also, sorry if my grammar sucks, English is not my first language, but I hope you got my point.

Hey girlie! Fantasize away! 😄 I don't mind lol.

But yea, your theory is actually a good one. All we (and even the general public) have picked up on with this couple is that something seems off.

I honestly wouldn't be shocked at all of Kaia and Austin's relationship has always been just PR. I actually think it started as PR. Maybe it grew into something more "real" as time went on, but as of right now, the love seems to have fizzled out in this ship long time ago.

It also seems like she sought him out, and imo, that's always the kiss of death for most relationships with guys. I always kind of feel like the guy should be a little more into you than vice versa if you want a guy who gives you the best relationship.

Another thing, maybe I'm in the minority, but I actually feel like her relationship with Elordi seemed more genuine. He was always hanging around her and her friends even while he was dating Zendaya 😵‍💫, and I think that he and Kaia genuinely had things in common. They're also both kind of weird with weird tastes for things.

I kind of think Jacob had his eye on Kaia even while dating Zendaya. I think she had all the power in that relationship. She even told Elordi early on in the relationship to shave his mullet off. You're only doing stuff like that when the man went after you and you know that the man likes you a bit more than you like him.

With the Kaustin relationship, it seems pretty clear to me that Austin is pretty much running that show. Kaia seems needy, clingy (remember the Taylor Swift concert video? The perfume video?🤭), she changes her personality and habits to fit his, copies what he says in interviews, her family has supposedly been putting pressure on Austin to settle down with Kaia, etc. To me, Austin is clearly wearing the pants in that relationship. This might also be slightly different from the Aunessa relationship, where Vanessa (being older) may have been more of the one to control things. To me, Vanessa seemed way more secure in her relationship with Austin.... maybe because she was older? Or, maybe she just knew that he actually really loved her.

I kind of feel like if Kaia were actually the one who was in control in the Kaustin relationship, she wouldn't feel the need to do half the stuff she's been doing. She'd be perfectly secure in the relationship.

Your thoughts about Presley are pretty spot on. He seems like the least likely to try to keep up a fake rosy-colored view of the family.

He definitely unfollowed Austin again from social media, and hasn't re-followed him like he did Ayo. Make of that what you will.

Btw -- Your English is perfect! 🥰

[lol-jackles]

//If the spin off happens I think Jared's character will be called to return to his fictional hometown in Texas that suspiciously looks like Austin. The show will be called Fire Country: Lonestar.//

I’ve literally been thinking that if Jared does/gets a spin-op for Fire Country it would be called, Texas Fire Country. Lol.

From what he’s said in panels, I don't see Jared doing the spinoff unless he gets to work in Austin. I’m not saying there is no way, but I don’t see him signing up to live in Vancouver or LA, or whatever for 9 months of the year when he’s been adamant that he doesn’t want to be away from family that long. I suppose it would be more likely if it was a streamer or shorter tv season, but I’m thinking if he got Walker filmed in Austin, he’d probably try to leverage that and get a potential FC spinoff filmed there, too.

From the rest of your post, I hope it has a lighter tone than the OG show, too. I’d like it to feel familiar but distinct from the original show. Having Camden and The Goat on a show could be fun. Maybe that should be the spinoff name. lol.

Final thought, a week or so ago, a fan was claiming in someone’s ask box that Jared was annoyed by Deadline mentioning a spinoff and claiming he was only currently interested in doing the guest appearance, and not interested in leading another show. I’m sorry I don't have a link because it was an anonymous ask from a little while back, but it was hearsay anyway. My question is, do you think Jared would have actually expressed annoyance at the spinoff being mentioned? And would Jared really turn down a spinoff if he was offered one? Or was he just being cautious, if the anon's claims were even true.

First I've heard of Jared's annoyance, so let me guess, it allegedly came from a M&G and therefore no video to listen for the tone or transcript to read his words. If the claim is true, Jared's annoyance is that the spinoff news was broken too soon. Even if the spinoff is currently being developed, announcements are usually made after the character is introduced to the audience, not before. Jared probably hasn't had media training yet so he's not ready to answer questions and fend off people begging asking for jobs.

Jared wouldn't turn down offers, especially during this contraction era where more people than ever are without jobs, both above and below the line. Jared tends to hold stuff close to the vest, he didn't reveal for 20 years that he had a holding deal with WB, so he's being cautious if the Anon's claims are true.

[tiredtxmblrvet]

Fic rec friday!

Got this idea from @mediumgayitalian (thank you!)

Below are 5 fics I've enjoyed this past week/recently. (They're all solangelo)

FAR GALAXIES by @rosyredlipstick

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49263694

Summary:

She didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled out her PADD from her coat, slow enough that Nico only slightly twitched. Jason’s transmission was loaded up on the screen—at the bottom, their signature tag was spelled out. “Guardians of the Galaxy. That supposed to be a joke?” “More like an aspiration,” Jason said. - Space, the final frontier. Or whatever.

--

Rosy is still working on it, but when I tell you this is absolutely worth it. Nico is 1 part of the Guardians of the Galaxy, and him, along with Piper, Jason and Leo get into many shenanigans in their journey across the stars. I'm just obsessed with Will and Nico's dynamic in this. Rosy is just such an incredible writer, her fics will probably pop up in more of these if I'm being honest.

Solace by @solisaureus

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38228998

Summary:

solace (n.) comfort or consolation in a time of distress or sadness.

solis (n.) the Latin word for "sun."

--

I am an absolute sucker for fics that are "rewrites" of canon but that are Will Solace-centric, and when I tell you this absolutely delivers. I loved reading about Will's journey as a healer, how he deals with love and loss, it's just a beautiful fic!

i'm put in awe (of something so flawed and free) by CordeliaRose

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53629369

Summary:

Right. Well. Nico squares his shoulders, reminds himself that nobody’s perfect and this guy has to be ugly, and knocks on the door.

He is met with a Greek God, and forgets how to function.

|||

AKA: the archaeologist!Nico & trauma surgeon!Will AU.

--

If you're not familiar with Cordelia, they wrote the solangelo bible (AKA August) and are currently writing August(Will's version). However, they decided to bless us with this absolutely adorable Trauma Surgeon! Will and Archaeologist! Nico AU, and it's such a pleasant read. Will and Nico's dynamic is flirty and adorable, and the rest of the seven are such sweet friends to Nico. Plus Nico is autistic coded in this and I'm a sucker for that.

my lover's the sunlight by demigodbeauties

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30187689

Summary:

It’s his Olympic debut. In a few short hours, he’ll be the only man skating on the ice sitting before him. He’ll be skating in the Men’s Singles Short Programme and representing all of the United States. He’s in a city he hasn’t seen in years, skating a brand new set of routines, and he wants so desperately to win. 

--

Figure Skater Nico di Angelo has a run in with Ice Hockey Player Will Solace. It doesn't go too smoothly, but then again - when does it ever?

--

Olympic Skater!Nico and Olympic Hockey player!Will. This story is warm and heartfelt, and the "enemies" part of the "enemies to lovers" tag is more misunderstanding than anything else. I felt myself wanting to cheer for Nico as he performed right there along Will, and #Solangelo even trends on twitter in this LOL.

Got a Pretty Face (Pretty Boyfriend, Too) by @buoyantsaturn

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33772453

Summary:

Was Will flirting with him? Or was this just his attempt at being a friendly neighbor? Either way, just to be safe, Nico should probably make it known that he’s off the market. Right? A casual mention of a boyfriend would work - he’d never had to let anybody down easy like that before, but he’d seen it in, like, movies. Thanks, I’ll see if my boyfriend is interested. Perfect. Now, he just had to say it.

-

Will moves from Austin to a small town in Texas, where he immediately takes up three jobs, and does not have the time to be flirting this much.

--

CJ never ceases to amaze and impress with their work, and this fic is no exception. I'm not normally one to read Leo/Nico, but I found I really enjoyed their dynamic in this fic, and the use of "sunshine" and "freckles" as nicknames for Will absolutely made me smile. Basically Nico and Leo live in Texas and Will works two jobs, and meets both Nico and Leo separately, and the two both start crushing on him. Shenanigans ensue. I adore this fic.

--

Okay that's all! I'll probably keep doing this until I run out of fics to recommend. Have a good friday lovelies!

[lindszeppelin]

Smooth Pretender

Pairing: Austin Butler x Fem!Reader

Prompt: You and Austin can't keep your hands off each other at a very important awards show, and you risk it all to quench the insatiable sexual appetite.

Word Count: 9.6k

Warnings: swearing, semi public sex / touching in the company of people, (would this be considered exposition? Lol genuinely wondering), fingering (f. receiving), SMUT; oral (f. receiving), p in v sex. and obvs...baz being adorable to austin lol

Los Angeles, California; 8:00am

The faint chimes of your phone's alarm clock looped in a sweet sing-song, rousing you from your deep slumber. You groaned, annoyed that your sleep deprived body had to be jostled back to the land of the living. No matter how hard you passed out, jet lag drained you of every human function - rendering you like a zombie with a groggy morning voice and a dull pounding at your temples. If today wasn't such a special occasion, you would have the right mind to throw your phone clear across the room and snooze until noon. But it wasn't every day that you get to go to a glamorous award ceremony with your talented boyfriend, who was a nominee and up for the accolades.

Austin was always busy with work. He had a few films he was dutifully working on. His latest project took him to Ohio to shoot a film, and you barely got to see him. Especially because every other weekend he had to fly to California as awards season is ramping up in speed. His role as Elvis Presley in the Baz Luhrmann picture has him sweeping the competition, everyone is pretty positive he's gonna win the prestigious Oscar. Austin on the other hand, isn't so sure. He's keeping his feet on solid ground. But while he's in the running for his awards, he's being pulled back and forth across the continent to do Q&As and give interviews. While it's been wonderful to see your man get the recognition you know he so ardently deserves, you'd be kidding yourself if you said you didn't miss him. You've barely had a chance to see each other properly in months. But today was different.

With the wrapping for The Bikeriders completed, he had to fly right back to California and be at the awards ceremony tonight. You were so excited when he facetimed you saying he had purchased a one way plane ticket for you to California so you could be his date to the ceremony. Finally, you were going to see Austin and support him on this very important day. But you were scared shitless at the same time. This would be your first time going to an extremely photographed and high profile public event with Austin. Since you knew how the general public could be, you didn't want anything you accidentally did or said to be taken out of context. So you knew you had to be presentable and be on your best behavior - as anything mildly negative could reflect poorly on not only you but on Austin. And any bad press at such a serious juncture was not what was needed.

Your eyes slowly blinked open. The Egyptian cotton sheets felt like heaven on earth to your naked body as you writhed on the bed, rolling over on your front and burying your face in the silk pillows. Not even bothering to look, your hand nearest the bedside table fumbles absentmindedly for your phone, putting it on silent. Fine, I guess I better get up.

You huffed, shifting in your hotel king sized bed, and realizing pretty quickly that the warmth of Austin's naked body wasn't laying next to you. Furrowing your brows, you rolled over to the other side of the bed and felt out with your hand - emptiness. Damn, Austin must have woken up much earlier than you to get a few things done before the ceremony. His PR team always had him going to some kind of interview, or round table event - more campaigning for his Oscar. Waking up in bed alone in your hotel room in LA bright and early wasn't exactly how you wanted your day to go. But you learned that being with Austin meant you had to forego any and all expectations of what a normal relationship would be like, and that was okay with you. You both enriched each other's lives and would be in despair without each other.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stretched your aching limbs, shaking away the pins and needles from your arms before padding barefoot on the expensive carpet to the bathroom.

As the day wore on, you still saw no signs of Austin. You imagined that you two would be getting ready in the hotel room together with the entourage of stylists, hair dressers, and makeup artists primping you two up as the hottest couple of the season. But nope, you were still alone aside from any room service men you called to place an order for breakfast, which was a few hours ago.

You sat on the bed, watching something mindless on the tv when suddenly you heard a knock at the door. Your heart raced in your chest. Finally, maybe now was the time you'd have to get ready to endure hours of hair pinning and makeup brushes stamping your eyes and face with makeup. And as you predicted, when you opened the door an entire entourage walked right passed you in a frenzy with their work bags in tow. The hairstylist set down her foldout chair for you to sit in and got to the task of setting up all her hot tools, hair pins, and clips out on the large bathroom vanity table. The makeup artist worked around the hairdresser, setting up her own makeshift spread on the other side of you. It was overwhelming seeing all the different shades of lipstick, blush, eyeshadow, and various pairs of wispy false lashes all placed neatly in a tidy row. With the unfurling of her makeup brush case, and the hairstylist brushing out your hair free of knots, the process of making you drab to fab was about to begin. And your stomach was doing horrific summersaults.

You weren't sure how much time had passed since you started getting dolled up, but you were getting antsy to see how you looked in the full length mirror out in the foyer. The stylist and the makeup artist were nice enough thankfully, making small talk with you and settling your nerves as they asked about your day and how you felt about the upcoming ceremony. They asked you how you envisioned yourself out on the red carpet, and they took your ideas but gave a professional spin on it - doing a much better job than you probably could with your own makeup and hair tools. You were grateful for the help.

Sometime in the middle of getting done up, you heard another knock at the door, and the makeup artist rushed to open the door, ushering in a team of 3 stylists carrying a long dry-cleaning bag on a hanger with your dress inside it. Austin's personal stylist had given you a suggestion of three dresses to pick from that she had in her arsenal that was your size, given maybe a stitch or two in quick alterations. When you saw the pictures she had sent you of a gorgeous bright red floor length dress with a thigh-high slit, deep v-neck, and low back you knew right away this was your dress. It was gorgeous but it wasn't over the top.

Finally after some final last minute touches, your face and hair were set. The stylists led you to the mirror so you could get a look at yourself, and you nearly fell to the floor. Your hair was curled to perfection with delicate tendrils of your long hair falling over your shoulder. And your had a sultry, fox eye makeup look with winged liner, wispy lashes, and a bold red lip to compliment the dress. Damn, you just know Austin is gonna drop to his knees when he sees you in this. But you're not done yet. The last thing you needed was to slip into your dress and nude heels, and then you were complete.

And here you were, looking like you stepped out of a painting. The gaggle of stylists had packed up their things and left the room once their job was complete, leaving you alone to your own devices and chasing the butterflies in your stomach as the clock neared go-time. You were standing by the vast, expansive floor to ceiling windows of your hotel room, looking down at the LA horizon. All the cars down in traffic looked like mere specs on the glass. But it looked beautiful with the golden sun peaking through the clouds. You were so lost in through, trying to quell your nerves, that you didn't register the slotting of the key card and the familiar thudding steps that got louder until they stopped in their tracks.

"My god, you look like a vision." Said Austin longingly, as if his breath was taken away from him the moment he set eyes on you.

The familiar timbre of your man's voice sent a warm shiver down your spine. You turned around slowly, gathering the fabric of your dress and swinging it around so you don't trip. Finally you were face to face with the one person in the world that you'd move mountains for, who's arms that yearned to be around your naked waist this morning were sorely missed - and as he drank in the sight of you, you nearly lost your balance as you were struck with the most handsome man you've ever met in your life. How lucky you were, you thought, to be by his side. All of those sleepless nights curled up in the fetal position wearing his shirt that lingered with his sweet cologne while he was on the other side of the country made those moments worth it. It was in the thousand mile stare, the quivering lip, the hand over the heart, and crystalline orbs that hold every ounce of love for you that reminded you right now of why you chose Austin Butler as the man to spend the rest of eternity with.

And damn did he ever look fine. He's in a bolero jacket phase and you hope he never stops wearing them. The cropped length accentuates his devastatingly long legs. All donned in black, he looks tailor made and strikingly good looking - especially in his newfound facial hair that leaves you compressing your thighs tight to skive off the rush of arousal pooling in your barely-there panties.

You absentmindedly brushed some flyaway hairs from your forehead. Your blood red lips form the most softest of smiles that's reminiscent of old Hollywood glamor. "You look not so bad yourself, handsome." You purr.

Austin's pearly whites blinded you, his moustache prickling the sides of his plush mouth as he puts on the biggest of grins. "Do a twirl for me baby, please. I wanna see the whole thing." He says softly.

You oblige him. The slit of your dress exposes your leg, giving him a flash of your thigh and your foot slipped perfectly into sexy heels that define the muscles of your calves. You purse your lips, not taking your sultry eyes off Auston for even a second. You want to see how every part of him reacts, so you tease him just a little bit. You toss some of your hair behind your shoulder as you slowly turn around on your heels, revealing the low back of the dress. The breath hitches in Austin's throat as his wandering eye makes note of how the silky fabric clings to your round ass he loves so much, and exposes just enough skin to know that when he poses for pictures with you later his hand will make contact with your flesh. That thought alone drives him wild already.

You turn back around and face him fully, letting him get a good look at the plunging neckline that reveals your perky breasts. The thin straps of the expensive dress sits prettily on your collarbones.

"What do you think, Aus?" You ask coyly. You fluff your flirty lashes at him, knowing you've definitely got him under a spell.

Austin gulps, all of a sudden feeling hot under the collar. He can't just stand there gawking any longer. He has to be closer to you. The heel of his italian leather boots click on the floor as he makes his dissent. "I think if we weren't forced to go to this award ceremony tonight I would rip this pretty dress right off your body and make sweet, passionate love to you until sunrise." He said boldly, now all of a sudden right up in your personal space.

His forehead was touching yours, his button nose brushing the tip of yours as he ghosts his plush, wanton mouth over yours. He knows better than to plant one right on you, the lipstick would come right off and get you both messy, ruining the hard work of the makeup artist. But fuck, does he so badly want to collide his eager lips with yours and have his tongue explore every wonderful inch of your mouth - leaving you both gasping for air.

The fact that you can't have him right now kills you. How the hell are you gonna manage tonight? You have no idea, but you hope the ceremony is short so you can make it back here in record time.

There's a glimmer of sparkling embers igniting behind Austin's blue eyes as he seemingly stares into your soul. To him, you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. He could break you in half with his cock or wrap you up in a protective embrace, cradling you like a priceless china doll in his arms.

Austin's long fingers brush gently across your rouged cheeks, and pull some of your hair back behind your ear. You can tell this one little maneuver has you blushing hard, the heat of your skin could melt this makeup right off your face and land into goopy pool at your feet. His other hand glides effortlessly over your waist, gently grasping your flesh and guiding you into his body. You suddenly feel dizzy as you take in the feel of Austin flush against your curves. Instinctively, your dainty fingers make their way into the inviting open neckline of his jacket, most of his toned chest on display. His curly blonde chest hairs invite you to play with them, and you do as you gaze into the man standing before you.

He hums as he meanders on the thought of smearing your lipstick, his eyes flickering seductively between your lips inching closer to him and your doe-like orbs. "But showing you off to the entire world as my gorgeous girl is also a good option." He breathily chuckles. You can practically taste the mint of his toothpaste as his breath pillows against your mouth. Before he pulls away from your needy mouth, he lets the rough hairs of his beard tickle you in just the right way to make you weak in the knees. Oh, what you would kill to have that beard of his tickle another place on your body yearning for his touch. Not now, but most certainly later.

It's all a vast whirlwind of mass hysteria swirling around you when you arrived on the red carpet. You swear on your life you've never seen so many grown adults foaming at the mouth just for one or two pictures of passing celebrities. And all of them do stop for these pictures, looking prim and properly dressed with dazzling smiles and sexy smolders. Austin has mastered the art of seducing through the camera lens. He calls it his "Zoolander" moment, aka pulling out the famed blue steel and melting the lens with his animalistic prowess that even he never knew he could muster.

When you first set foot on the carpet, your nerves were on full blast. Fans were behind black velvet ropes with iphones in hand, hoping for the chance of getting a picture with their idol. Austin was always by your side, his large hand entwined in yours. You felt safe and secure in his grasp - like no matter what happened, you knew Austin would be there to catch you. It was really cute seeing Austin pause for a few moments to take some pictures with fans who were calling out his name. He just couldn't help himself. He always had to oblige someone who admired his work. It's like he was having all of these "pinch me" moments right before your eyes, and you were witness to the blossoming of Austin Butler.

He stole the show. And with you on his arm, you could feel a few eyes on you too. After all, this was your first public appearance being seen with Austin in a major way. While the occasional paparazzi shots from diner dates, or nice walks in the park at home was something you got used to with time, this was an different animal entirely.

The further down the red carpet you went you felt like you were in Oz, traveling down the yellowbrick road into madness. All around you were famous movie stars, directors, screenwriters, models, and other important people dressed in clothes you knew were so expensive you'd probably lose your mind if you saw the price tag. And here you were, a run of the mill girl from small town beginnings with your boyfriend Austin Butler. To say it was surreal was an understatement.

You gripped Austin's hand a little tighter when you noticed that you were both making your way to a photo-op specifically for high profile guests to get their pictures snapped by about 20 zealous photographers for magazines. The thought of the whole world seeing all of your imperfections in 4K made you sweat uncomfortably. Austin could feel you trembling on his arm, and he looked down at you with a concerned furrow of his brow.

Austin placed his free hand over yours, stroking you lovingly. "Baby, it's gonna be okay. Just breathe." He said in a whisper against the shell of your ear, so only you were privy to what he was saying. He's all too aware that there could be wandering eyes and he didn't want to draw anymore unwarranted attention to your anxiety, making you uncomfortable.

Your frightened eyes glanced up at him. "What if something happens? Like, the photographers yell at me or I get booed? Is that even a possibility?" You ask in a frenzy.

Austin's lip tweaked into a slight smile, admittedly finding your nervousness a little adorable. "No one is gonna boo you. And if they do, they'll deal with me. And they won't like me when i'm angry." He said playfully with a slight growl at the end of his words.

His humor cuts through the trepidation like a knife, making you smile. Your eyes melt when you catch his fixed gaze upon you, his blues sucking you in and making you forget about everyone around you except for him. "I can see the headlines now. 'Austin Butler punches the lights out of boisterous photographer. Still wins award for Best Actor'.". You joke.

Austin scrunches his nose and throws his head back, laughing adorably. Out of your peripheral in this moment you see the bright flash of a camera illuminating both you and Austin. A photographer definitely snapped that candid moment of you two laughing together. You're sure when that picture makes it on to the internet that people are gonna be wondering what you said to make the man of the hour laugh so hard. If only they knew.

It was your turn now to stand on the red carpet and get your professional pictures taken with Austin. Even though you cringe at the thought, it reminds you of high school prom. But this time, you're not linking arms with some acne-faced teen and a dress you picked out last minute from some local department store with a cheesy smile plastered on both your faces. This was the moment you knew the internet at large would never let you live down. It would either go over swimmingly, or it would be a disaster. But you hoped for something in the middle to better your chances of succeeding.

Austin led you over to a spot on the ground with a large X, indicating where exactly you stand so all the photographers can have their best shot. Immediately all you could hear was a litany of men and women with cameras strapped to their necks shouting Austin's name, begging him to look at them for a picture. But Austin wouldn't give into their pleas so easily. He was laser focused on you.

As you got into position like you practiced - standing to Austin's side with one hand behind his back and your front leg pointedly posed to show off your best assets, you could feel Austin ogling down at you, and only you.

While the photographers were getting rowdy, at this point begging your man to look up into their cameras, he was transfixed on how beautiful you were nestled warmly into his side. You trailed your eye up his lean body, landing on his baby blues that were like tidal waves lapping against your body. His cup overflows with complete adoration of you, and he feels like the luckiest man to get to be with you. Austin proudly smiles down at you, never once daring to give the eager photographers what they want. This is about you and him. No one else.

You could feel your heart racing wildly in your chest as you lingered on his hypnotizing gaze. The blinding flashes of cameras snapping was going on in front of you, but in this moment you didn't care what you looked like or what was going on around you. All that mattered was the man holding you close to his side, displaying you off in a light show of dominance to everybody that you're his and he is yours.

His lips parted, and time seemed to slow down when you caught him leaning down close to you. While he resisted his urges back in the hotel room to kiss you, he wasn't going to now. It felt like the right moment, and he was gonna seize the opportunity. He just wanted to have a genuine moment of shared intimacy with his woman. And you let him finally caress his velvet, all encompassing lips onto yours for the first time in what seems like forever.

As he let his hand dance over the searing skin of your exposed back, the other one cupped your face tenderly. His hands are so large that it feels like your entire head can fit perfectly in his palm. It leaves you trembling, and yearning more of him. For a few moments, you bask in the sweet kiss. And you whimper against him, totally forgetting your surroundings and not caring who can see the PDA. Austin's moustache faintly whispers over your top lip, and he too moans softly as his mouth works against yours in a tasteful display of affection.

Little do you know that the photographers are eating this up like it's the best thing they're ever gonna get for their magazines. It's a fury of hollers and cheers from other celebrities who see the whole thing going down on the carpet, egging you both on. They probably assume that this was purely a show for the cameras, but they applaud you all the same.

Austin's thumb grazes over your cheekbone, and with a wet pop his lips were gone from yours. You both slowly open your eyes and stare into each other's souls. You giggle a little when you notice a pink flush creeping up on Austin's tan skin, demure once again in his usual modality. And luckily not a lot of your lipstick transferred over to him. Whatever little stain it did leave behind, he licked his lips and rubbed them together, deciding he was gonna proudly display your lipstick residue on his mouth - all the more reason to let every single person at the ceremony know who he belonged to.

Not long after the exuberant display you and Austin made to the cameras on the carpet, you both made small talk as you made your way inside the venue. It was dimly lit, but there were glass chandeliers hanging from each ornately made up table. It looked so regal, and yet again you felt out of place. Like, should you really be here? Did you belong here? But with Austin by your side, he made you feel like you could walk on water and you'd believed it. So for the time being, you let the nagging thoughts leave your mind and allow yourself to just be present.

With your hand in his, Austin led you to the Elvis table where you saw a few familiar faces. His movement coach Polly Bennet was there, the fantastic fashion designer Catherine Martin looked sensational in one of her own creations, and of course the wonderful Baz Lurhman looked dashing as ever as he greeted you both warmly with smiles and a hug.

As Austin pulled out your chair for you to sit down, ever the gentleman, Baz perked up. "I thought I heard all that commotion going on out there. Word got around quick that you two were making quite a scandalous scene on the carpet. Do tell." He said a little tipsy already with his champagne flute sitting daintily in his hand. He wiggled his fluffy white brows and narrowed his dark brown eyes as he dramatically took a sip of the bubbly.

You blushed all over again, this time from embarrassment. And you heard Austin laugh nervously from behind you, making sure you were settled in your seat before he sat down next to you. "What good will words do when you can see it for yourself in the papers tomorrow?" Austin quipped teasingly.

Baz snickered. "Oh, young love. Ain't it just the best." He said in a wistful dreamy tone, leaning back in his chair, admiring the pair of you before him as if you were a young romeo and juliet.

Austin smiled at you, interlacing his hand with yours and kissing your knuckles sweetly. "You damn sure are right about that, Baz.". Well shit, you blushed all over again. You thank god it looked like the most darkly lit Hollister store right now in this venue, because you were sure you looked beat red.

Baz sipped more on his champagne, eyeing the two of you just a tad bit longer than maybe one should. But he was looking on in almost a proud fatherly way. Austin was happy, and it was obvious. And that meant the world to him. Not just because Austin was the star of his film. No, it was because he and Austin formed a special bond on set that can never be broken. Austin's likeness and talent doesn't come around all that often. Maybe once in a blue moon. And seeing Austin happily settled in the romance department made him sigh a breath of relief, as he knows the man deserves it. Baz put one of his arms behind the chair of his beautiful wife Catherine, and allowed the love radiate over the table.

As time drew on, dinner was served at the tables. You were used to being wined and dined by Austin. Money is no object for you, and he loves to pamper his girl. Sometimes you want to retch at the 3 or 4 digit totals of the bills you two have shared together, but he insists on splurging for you. He dutifully saves his money so he can have the means of treating you like he believes you should be.

This time, you were thankful Austin didn't have to reach into his pocket to pay for dinner. It was a nice spread, and occasionally you would both pick at each other's plates, or feed each other heaping forkfuls into the other's mouth like a newly married couple. No one really batted an eyelash at you and Austin being sickeningly sweet at the table, and if they did they kept their mouth shut letting you both enjoy this magical evening of pure delights.

One thing remained constant the entire evening - Austin's hand never left your thigh. And he chose his seat wisely, knowing that you cross your leg on the side where the slit hangs off your thigh. While no one can even notice he has his hand on your exposed leg, you two certainly know what's going on. With his hand under the tablecloth, out of eyesight, sometimes you could feel his calloused fingertips painting lazy circles on your flesh. Maybe every so often he would toy with the fabric of your dress, rubbing the silky material between the pads of his fingers. Other times, he would push the fabric to the side, letting it fall even further up your thigh, and tracing featherlight touches on the newly revealed skin.

Some of this he was was doing almost as a subconscious tick, not even aware that his hand was on autopilot. But other times it was deliberate, and you both knew it. He tried to get away with just how much he could show off your tantalizing skin, and how close he could get to your heat without daring to directly go there. It was the best kind of torture. Especially after that longing, dreamy kiss you shared with him on the carpet. You wanted nothing more than to get through all the awards and drag him back into an uber to a one way trip to your hotel bed. But since Austin was up for an award, you weren't going anywhere. You were glued to your seat for the next foreseeable few hours. This was gonna be hell.

Finally you were excited when the award ceremony actually got underway. One by one awards were being given out like hotcakes to happy winners, and long speeches were made in their wake. You'd be lying if you didn't find yourself zoning out for most of the event. It was getting a little tedious, and honestly all you cared about was Austin's nomination. It seemed like they were saving the best for last though, because after an hour of awards being passed out left and right, they were nowhere near the Best Actor category your man was nominated for.

But just as quickly as your brain was starting to tune out the world around you, there again you felt the familiar caress of Austin's fingers trailing up your thigh under the table. Your heartbeat jumped, your ears ringing the more it seemed like Austin wasn't stopping. He was walking his hand along his desired path right where you wanted him after all this teasing.

Hold on. Right here and now, though? In front of everybody? Maybe he's gonna stop just shy of your aching heat, leaving you wanting more. Surely you figured that he wasn't bold enough to do anything more than that. Right? No, seemingly not, you were mistaken.

All you could focus on now was his hand. You didn't even hear anything that was being said onstage or what was happening. You just kept a deadpan expression on your face as best you could as you zoned out, as to not alert anyone of the goings on under the table.

Austin brushed the fabric of the dress to the side and inched his hand up higher on your thigh. Giving the flesh a gentle squeeze, his hand snuck between your crossed legs, nudging them apart with barely any force. Slowly, you allowed yourself to uncross your legs. Your right knee touched Austin's as you settled into this new position. You could feel the heat radiating off of him in droves just from that one gentle graze of his black slacks against your bare leg. Already debased thoughts were swirling around in your brain. It was getting hard to concentrate on anything else but what may happen next. He was keeping you on your toes, and your body was willingly giving into him.

You wanted to see what he looked like right now, his hand fully committing to the task at hand, and under the cover of darkness. No one was the wiser. Slowly but surely his fingertips went high and higher under your dress until his pinky landed at the hem of your panties. You were frozen in your spot. Oh fuck, he's really gonna do this. There's not stopping him. He was gonna take what was his, and in front of the most famous people in Hollywood.

You swallowed thickly, awaiting for his next step. His pinky finger trembled slightly as it dared to trace your clothed slit up and down languidly. All of your senses were heightened so much that you could just barely register the gasp Austin emitted from his throat when he felt just how soaked through you were for him. Does he dare to go further? Yes, he does.

Not wanting to waste any more time, needing you right this very moment, he carefully grasps your ruined panties in between his fingers and shifts them to the side. A cool breeze hit your hot, aching pussy. You tried your best to stifle back the whimper that wanted to come out when you felt Austin's hand cup your slick mound, his long middle finger running circles over your entrance. He obscenely smears all of your juices that come gushing out of you and collects some of it on his fingers, letting the sticky wetness coat him good and proper.

Now you really wanted to take a look over at Austin and see if he was crumbling or not like you were. It was added torture that you couldn't give away the game by passing a glance back in his direction. He could feel how needy you were for his touch, how wet you were for him in front of all these important people. And that made him painfully hard.

He's the master at edging. And with his fingertips dripping with your heavenly nectar, he makes a beeline for your swollen clit. You couldn't help yourself, you let a little moan creak past your lips. The chair you sat on was enduring the mighty strength of your grip against it as you white knuckled the seat with one of your hands, trying to ground yourself.

Momentarily, Austin shut his eyes and faintly whimpered, the cracks of his facade shining through. He knew exactly how to touch you to have him writhing in pleasure. You just have to sit there, pretending like Austin isn't running deliberately slow circles around your throbbing clit, making you feel every single stroke of his masterful fingers as he toys with you like his own perfectly tuned musical instrument.

This game is too much to do alone. The longer he spins laps around your clit, the more soaked your seat beneath you becomes. This erotic power play is intoxicating for the both of you. What started off as innocent touches is now a full blown high speed chase for primal pleasure, no matter how public it is. Even if it were to somehow risk Austin's chances of winning his award tonight, it would be worth it to have his fingers forever tangled in your folds, smothered in your juices.

You can't take it anymore. You have to feel him. With your right hand you go under the table and slowly make your move to his manhood - but not before you tease him too. The moment your hand lands on his muscular thigh, you feel Austin's breath catch in his throat. He wasn't expecting this turn of events. But he's not pushing you away. He wants to see where this goes, and more so than ever he wants you to touch him just as badly.

Austin shivers under your hand as you walk your fingertips over his slacks. The pleats at his crotch yield way to the massive girth of his cock that strains underneath the luxe fabric. You breathe a sigh that's one of relief and pleasure when your hand comes into contact with his erection, at long last.

Poor Austin had to cough out loud and grab his glass of iced water on the table, pretending like he was overcome with a sudden coughing spell. But it was all a rouse to bite back the moan he did a bad job of concealing the second you squeezed his cock in your warm hand.

It was a sneaky game of chess now. You made your move, but you weren't prepared at all for the swiftness of the turn this would take when all of a sudden you felt Austin's fingers make their way down from your clit and plunge into your pussy. Your walls immediately clamp down around his index and middle fingers, knuckles deep inside you.

You felt like soon enough the chair you were sitting on would give way due to how strongly you had it in a vice grip. You pursed your lips together and breathed harshly out your nose during a moment in the ceremony when loud claps erupted after an arduous speech, skillfully hiding the feeble noises you were making.

You knew that you couldn't just unzip Austin's pants and whip his cock out under the table. That would be putting the two of you at a massive risk of obviously being caught. So you do what you can, and you wrap your hand around his throbbing clothed cock and start to jerk him off up and down under the table.

You can feel Austin suck in his stomach, holding back the urge to throw his head back and moan obscenely loud at how good you were stroking him. His good girl, his sweet innocent girl working his shaft to the entire Academy of Hollywood elites had him nearly cumming in his pants. And as his fingers plunged in an out of your soaking wet pussy, he could tell it was all too consuming for you too.

This wasn't enough. He needed more. You both craved the other. Screw the awards ceremony. While this was Austin's big moment, all that mattered to him was sinking his thick cock into his girls dripping wet pussy. He didn't think of it as a risk to undertake. It was a simple solution to a problem he created. But the trick was getting you both away from everyone and having his way with you.

As if fate was on both of your sides, the host of the ceremony announced a brief 15 minute intermission midway through the doling out of awards. Thank fucking god. It was now or never. The tables around you were bustling with new energy as people started to rise to their feet and stretch their limbs.

You let out a whine when Austin removed his fingers from your pussy, wanting nothing more than for him to be back in there. But as he wiped off your juices on the napkin on his opposite thigh and clutched onto your hand atop his cock, you knew that you were gonna get something even better than his fingers.

The brief but intense heated glare you both passed each other for the first time since this whole teasing game started was palpable. The tiny embers from when Austin saw you in the hotel for the first time to the rolling flames on the red carpet as he kissed you deeply in front of the cameras, to the insatiable burning inferno his stormy blues ricocheted into your lusty eyes said it all. 15 minutes was all you'd get with him, but it was enough to tide you both over.

Austin cleared his throat, swallowing the arousal that pooled in his throat. He leaned over to Baz and said, "We'll be back in a few. Don't wait up for us." With his best attempt to disguise the obvious sexual desire dripping from his vocal chords.

Baz eyed the both of you in a very dad-like manner. "Well, hurry back Aust. You don't wanna miss the announcement of your award. If you miss it i'll happily scamper up there to collect if on your behalf." He jabbed playfully.

Austin laughed, patting Baz on the back. He waited for the right moment when everyone at the Elvis table was looking elsewhere before taking you in his hand and rising from the table, albeit a little awkwardly and hunched over. His raging boner was making it almost impossible for him to stand up straight, but he thanked god that there was a little wiggle room and pleats at the front of the pants to hide any unfortunate fashion faux pas, like right now.

He let you lead the way, hiding his erection behind you from the view of possible eyes as you both walked hand in hand to your unknown destination.

While fucking Austin in a coat closet wasn't the ideal situation you'd hoped for, and it certainly wasn't on your bucket list, you made do with the best of the situation. The bathrooms would be too crowded, and not enough privacy. Who would be heading into the coat closet during the middle of the ceremony? Two horny lovers who can't get enough of each other, that's who.

As soon as he closed and locked the door to the large walk in closet, it was endgame. Like a lion going in for the attack, Austin rushes over to you with a few brisk steps and crashes his lips onto yours.

You both pass each other needy moans into each other's mouths, sucking and swirling in a messy collision of lips and tongues. Austin would be covered in lipstick marks by the end of this, but he didn't give a damn.

He backed you against the wall, fumbling hands clambering over every single bit of skin he could latch his fingers onto. And you found purchase in Austin's ashy blonde waves, tousling his coiffed hair his stylist spent a good amount of time getting just right. But you needed him closer. If you could melt with his soul in his moment you would.

Austin moaned heavy against your mouth before pulling away, gulping down air like it was going out of style. "I can't believe how wet you were for me out there." He heaved out, his lips attacking the sensitive flesh of your neck. You mewled and clung even more desperately for him.

"I can't believe how hard you were for me. You have no idea how badly I wanted to pull your cock out and make you cum in my hand." You breathed lustfully, sighing as Austin's mouth worked wonders on suckling the skin down your decolletage.

He whined haughtily. "You'd like that wouldn't you, baby? Milking my cock while they call out my name to get my award."

You moaned, wrapping the leg exposed by the slit of your dress hoist up around Austin's svelte waist, drawing him in. Austin takes the invitation and grabs hold of your thigh. The silver rings on his large dominating hand press into your skin, leaving red welts behind. Latching onto your leg, he brings you closer to his hard body, rocking his hips directly into your aching core.

You mewl, lolling your head to the side, earning Austin more access to nip and lick back up the column of your neck. "Maybe I would. At least everyone would know for sure that you were mine." You purr.

Austin darkly chuckles against the shell of your ear, grinding his erection firmer against your mound, which made you whimper softly. "Don't fret, my love, we made sure to remedy that on the carpet earlier. By tomorrow everyone will get to see the girl that captured my heart for life."

Face to face with Austin once again, he looked like a wild animal in heat with mad eyes, smeared rep lipstick, and his waves now unruly atop his head. With one hand still firmly holding your leg against his waist, the other one glided up your feminine curves, cupping your breast roughly in his line of fire, causing you to gasp.

His fingers wrapped around the front of your throat, applying just enough pressure to assert his dominance. "The entire world will finally know the pussy I sink my cock into at the start of every morning and end of every night." He growled huskily. His rumbling baritone permeated through to your very core, sending a homerun directly down into your clit.

You furrow your brows together and moan at this emboldened statement. As if you weren't already wet before, that made you gush out and ooze onto your ruined panties. The corners of Austin's lips curled devilishly into a coy grin. All the while he was still teasing you with grunts and thrusts of his strained cock against you. Seeing the effect he had over you made him high, better than any drug can do, and he could chase that feeling all day for the rest of his life.

"Austin, please." You plea in a whiny high pitched tone. Your deft fingers play with the curls at the nape of his neck, and you grind yourself as best you can against his length, stirring up the friction you desperately needed on your pussy. Austin sunk his pearly whites into his puffy bottom lip, getting off on everything about you. 15 minutes was barely enough time with his best girl, so he needed to stop playing like he had all the time in the world and get down to brass tax.

Not letting go of your leg, he swiftly sinks down to his knees, throwing your thigh onto his sturdy broad shoulder. He looks up at you through his long lashes, his blues swirling into a cacophony of love drunk ecstasy. "I know we don't have much time, but I wanna taste you. I need to have my tongue buried in your sweet pussy. Want your taste to linger on my palette to get me through the rest of the ceremony." He slurred hot and heavy.

You didn't even have time to respond before you looked down to Austin dragging your panties down your legs and pocketing them in his bolero jacket, repositing your leg over his shoulder. All you can do is mewl in response at his request. If it's one thing you love about Austin, besides his heart of gold, is his heavenly mouth that can bring you countless crippling earthshattering orgasms with a flick of his masterful tongue. Yeah, you needed this just as badly as he did.

In a flash, he let his tongue escape past his lips and lick one long broad determined stripe through your folds. You shuttered and squealed, immediately carding your hard through Austin's golden tendrils.

At first he explored you like the more he licked away at your pussy he would soon strike gold - the treasure of a lifetime. Your slick coated his tongue and lips, making it the easiest thing for him to slurp you up. By your own volition, your hips arched off the wall and started slowly rocking your pussy into his facial hair covered face.

He moaned against your wetness, his long tongue parting your folds with every deliberate swipe and lick.

"Fuck, Austin." You moaned breathlessly. His freehand dug into your waist, helping you along in humping his face as he buried his strong, wet muscle against your pussy. Dragging the tip of his tongue along your slit, he made his way up to your aching swollen clit. Giving your little bundle of nerves all the attention he could muster, he impressed upon you the swiftest and sloppiest flicks of his tongue as fast as he could manage.

He groaned against you, your arousal seeping into his mouth as he delivers an onslaught of licks and flicks of his tongue against your clit that leaves you shaking and clinging to his hair even harder.

"Oh yes! Just like that, baby, please." You scream, not caring who walks by and hears Austin going down on you. He devours your pussy like a man who's starving. As if he didn't just eat one of the fanciest meals of his life in the company of fellow high profile celebrity elites. But you're his favorite meal, by far.

The noises his mouth is making as he messily and eagerly slurps you up is borderline pornographic. He loves to make you wetter than a waterfall, and he savors the taste of your divine juices like they were tailor-made just for him. He could eat your pussy for hours, licking you until you go dumb with only the most base of urges left residing in your brain. And if tonight was a normal night, he would have you cum by his mouth. But the clock was against you both. He knew he didn't have the time to allocate to getting you to your first orgasm on his tongue, but he for damn sure knew he cock would do the job.

Parting from your clit, he swipes more fast and broad strokes of his tongue through your folds, sloppily, obscenely moaning deeply against your sopping cunt. You throw your head back and grind faster on his face.

"Mm. Aus, I-I need...I want to cum on your cock. Now." You moan desperately, savoring in the last few final salacious flicks of his tongue on your pussy before he pulls away from your core completely.

When he rises to his feet, he looks positively fucked out on your pussy. Noticing that his beard is fully drenched in your slick, making the hairs turn a darker blonde, you feel a wave of arousal drip down your thighs.

Austin captured your mouth in a deep and passionate kiss, one where you could taste yourself on his lips as he molded his mouth into yours. Still holding onto your one leg, his free hand gathers up the fabric of your red dress hastily, moving it out of his way to free up your other leg. He lightly smacks the back of your thigh, indicating that he wants you to jump up into his arms.

Taking his nonverbal que, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and wrap your other leg around his waist. He pulls away from your mouth with a wet pop, grunting hoarsely as he cradles you fully in his arms, pushing your back up against the wall with brute strength.

Time is of the essence, there's no dillydallying here. With you in the perfect position, Austin lets go of one of your legs and unzips his pants, pulling them down just enough to spring his leaking cock free from his trousers. Taking his erection in hand, he smears his pre-cum oozing from his puffy, red tip over your slippery folds, making you both sigh lustfully as you stare into each other's eyes.

He swallows the remnants of your juices in his mouth and pants. "You ready for me, baby?" He asks, still just as polite and taking into account your comfort even in the heat of the moment.

You nod your head. "Yes, please Austin. Don't make me wait for your cock anymore." You purr, nuzzling your nose against his.

That was all he needed to hear. No longer did those words leave your red lips that he aligned the tip of his cock with your weeping entrance, and slowly pushed through your constricting walls.

The guttural groan that erupted from Austin's throat made you even wetter, and inadvertently clenched around his hard cock at the same time, making him shiver. Feeling him inch his way through your wetness, filling you up to the brim made you want to scream out in pleasure. "Holy shit, Austin." You moaned high and raspy.

He bit his lip and whimpered. Now that he was all the way seated deep inside your pussy, he adjusted his hold on your body, gripping your hips with both his large hands.

Austin withdrew, leaving just the tip lingering inside you. And with full force, he snapped his hips in one fluid motion and his cock fully entered you again, causing you to groan at the feeling of being stretched yet again.

In a frenzy, Austin went to work on slamming his cock in an out of your wet pussy. Over and over his cock pushed deeper through your walls, somehow brushing against all of those hard to reach spots that no other man has ever managed to hit before you met Austin. The curve of his cock was just the perfect fit with your pussy - like it was designed for you.

Austin buried his head in the crook of your neck, fucking you into sweet oblivion. "So goddamn tight for me, baby." He moaned, his breath hot against your neck.

The sounds of your combined noises of love making and the slapping of skin on skin with the sloshing of your pussy juices echoed off of the expensive fur coats and barren wooden walls. Nothing else mattered except for the feeling of Austin's engorged cock getting heavy by the second as he plunged further and harder into your soft heat.

Your breasts jiggled through the neckline of your dress, the thin traps already fallen off your shoulders as Austin fucks his way through your pussy and straight to your soul. He grunts, and you writhe against him, at his mercy and unable to bounce yourself back down on his cock. He's in control, and you let him steer the ship.

The longer he massages his cock along your g-spot, leaving bruises on your cervix, your pussy aids him in slipping in and out of you at an easier and faster rate than ever before. Pretty soon, you're literally dripping onto the floor. In the back of your mind you hope you don't make a mess on Austin's expensive italian leather boots. You just know that by the sounds of it that he's absolutely murdering your pussy right now.

Your walls flutter around him and stroke his cock in such a way that has him buckling already. He can tell by the ramping up of your high pitched moans and your pussy clamping down on his cock that you're nearing the finish line. And you know he's close as well just by how his hips stutter as he sloppily fucks through your slick heat blanketing him from all angles.

It amazes you genuinely how quick he can get you there, but you feel your orgasm threaten to ripple through your body. But you don't want to cum solo. It's gonna be your mission to make him cum with you. This is afterall his special night, and you want him to revel in the moment of falling off the precipice into heavenly bliss with his woman before winning his award. You were already set on your finishing move.

As you pant and whine into Austin's ear, one of your hands yanks his head back perhaps a little too roughly. His face peels away from your neck, and you can see he's sweating bullets. The look in his eyes reads that he's nearing the most sensational orgasm he's had in a while. And you were gonna help him achieve that.

With your best sex kitten voice, you breath through his ragged thrusts as you look into Austin's baby blues. "I want you to fill me up with your cum. Make your load drip down my thighs in front of everybody. Mark me as yours." You pant needily, on the edge of the proverbial cliff just seconds away from diving head first into your orgasm.

This was enough to set Austin careening over the edge. His eyes widened, his brows knitted in concentration as he slammed you down onto his cock, groaning out loudly as he nears his climax.

"Fucking hell, i'm gonna..." He warned loudly, his lips ghosting yours.

"Me too." You muttered helplessly.

And with a few final hard, messy, juicy thrusts you both moan in pleasure at the same time. You feel Austin's cock throb hard inside of you, his cum spurting out in thick globs painting your walls. Just like you wanted, you have every single inch of your pussy drenched in his cum. And while he's shaking uncontrollably, moaning your name as he cums, your walls milks his orgasm so good that he's nearing on the brink of insanity. Your slick gushes out around him, earning you all of his gruff and sexy mewls of fantastic serenity pouring out of Austin's mouth one after the other.

"Goddamn, that's what im talking about, baby. Oh yes." He purrs thickly, letting his lips lazily graze yours in a barely there kiss. His cock is still buried to the hilt in your pussy, and his thrusts come to an eventual halt.

You breathlessly smile against his mouth. "That was everything."

Austin hums in agreement. You whine from the loss of him when he pulls out, his cock lobbing back heavy against his stomach. Gingerly, he places you back down on the ground as you unfurl your legs from his waist. You're wobbly on your heels and you clutch onto his strong forearms for support.

Once he see's your okay to stand as normal, he tucks his cock still coated in your combined orgasms back into his pants. That's a mess he'll deal with later. Plus, he'd rather know that he can have a physical reminder of you on both his cock and his tongue when he sits back down at the table.

After quickly adjusting your dress and your hair back to look somewhat presentable without a mirror present to double check you look okay, you lean up on your tiptoes to place one last tender kiss on Austin's lips. Luckily any lipstick that did transfer on his face isn't there anymore. So he's safe, and no one is still the wiser.

Austin sighs. "I think our 15 minutes in heaven is up." He laughs. "C'mon, let's get back out there."

Linking hands once again, you make sure to look both ways down the hall to check that the coast was clear before you both strolled back into the dining hall as if nothing happened.

And to no ones surprise, Austin swept the competition that night by securing the first of many well deserved awards. When he went up on stage to collect his trophy, he never once looked away from you - the girl that managed to capture his heart, mind, soul, and body. As he thanked you innocently on stage, he licked his lips. A gesture that to everyone else is seemingly normal, nothing to raise concerns over. But to you and him, it brought back vivid flashbacks to those 15 glorious minutes spent with him in that coat closet.

This was absolutely a night that you two would never forget.

@aconflagrationofmyown @harringrove-sketchbookpages @samfangirls @2lekk @moonchild-daniella @plasticfantasticl0ver @austinbutlersworld @unadulteratedkingdomzombie @sapphirescripts @ash-omalley @pearlparty @denised916 @cartooncoaster @flowersofcement @allittakesisoneflight @powerofelvis @purejasmine @austinbutlerinleather @allittakesisoneflight @madisonafangirl @sournatromanoff @denised916 @donnamarie23 @houseofcoquettes @pennyroyalcreep @austin-butler-library @lrd98 @fallinlovewithurlove @raspberry-coulis @bisexualwvtson @elvisstyles @mymamalife @oldermenluverrr @pennyroyalcreep @houseofcoquettes @flwrs4aust @auztin777 @sparklemichele @presleyobsessed @avengen @elvisabutler @blurredcolour @tacozebra051

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[tieronecrush]

I have a request but it’s also infideltiy so I understand if you ignore this lol.

I’ve been thinking lately about a scenario where reader and Joel have been separated since the outbreak for a few years, reader starts dating some guy in the QZ she’s at, joel shows up and they reunite. Joel really tries to stay away and respect her relationship but they’re both too emotional and horny to resist. I really do love passionate reuinion sex tho!!!!

thank you so much for your request lovely nonnie! i switched it up just a lil bit to make the reader the one who shows up with her bf to boston where joel already is - hope that’s okay!!

muscle memory

joel miller x f!reader

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

word count: 6.5k

summary: when you flee the baltimore QZ to head to boston with your boyfriend and others, the last person you expect to see is joel miller. you had mourned him for years, having thought your last partner was lost to you forever. when the two of you start smuggling together, more time around each other only seems to strengthen your connection - to the point where neither of you can manage the tension anymore.

warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, no age specified, use of pet names (‘bonny’, ‘little lamb’, ‘sugar’), infidelity, previous relationship, mentions of death/loss, some angsty angst, alcohol use, mentions of drug use, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, cockwarming, dirty talk, praise, mild breeding kink, possessive!joel, soft!dom joel

Boston is an upgrade from Baltimore. At least in the state you left it; the Baltimore QZ had finally succumbed to Firefly occupation and FEDRA was forced out. Not that it really mattered to you, but it was another reason to add to the list. The biggest reason for your caravan up north was that your smuggling lines and connections had dried up. Like, completely. Either people found better deals or died on their journeys outside of the walls of whatever QZ they were from. You mostly dealt with Washington and Philly, both having been radio silent for weeks by the time your smuggling group made the decision to move on. You were welcoming the change; sure, the means to get there was full of uncertainty and danger, but the group you were with and your boyfriend of a few months, Danny, made you feel the slightest bit more confident trekking through the decimated country.

It’s been a few weeks since you all officially transitioned into the Boston QZ, registered under FEDRA, and having gone through your quarantine. You all settled into your government-assigned homes, you living with Danny and others grouping up to attempt to make these shabby walls feel like home.

It was easy to be with Danny. You two had known each other for years, done tons of runs together, and developed a comfortable friendship. Your relationship was born out of convenience -- after hooking up one night when you both needed to be taken care of, you stayed together. It was nice to have companionship, but it certainly wasn’t love.

You haven’t felt that way since Joel.

Joel Miller. Your partner when the world went to shit.

The two of you were together for a couple of years, and you were planning to move in with him at the start of the new year - 2004. It was supposed to be your year. Moving in with the love of your life and his daughter that you loved as if she were your own, probably getting engaged or just eloping with him, maybe even talking about growing your little family.

You loved your life before. You mourned it for years after the outbreak happened, knowing you likely wouldn’t see any part of it again.

When Outbreak Day happened, you weren’t with Joel. You weren’t even in Austin. It was the week of your mom’s 60th birthday, and she had begged you to come up north for a visit. You were supposed to fly home on September 26th. You were supposed to surprise Joel for his own birthday.

And then your flight got canceled. Rebooked for the following day.

And everything changed.

But that was years ago, now it’s 2010. Family members were long gone, friends made along the way lost, too. You grieved as well as you could with the way the world moved now. Despite searching for any sign of Joel, or Sarah, or even his brother Tommy, you accepted your fate to be alone and settled in Baltimore.

And now, you were accepting the fate that your new home would be Boston. Seemed like a decent replacement in your mind, and hearing about the smuggling business here made you eager to get involved.

The small group that you traveled with had arranged a meeting with two of the more prolific runners in the city. You weren’t given any details besides a meeting place and time, so when that night came, you and Danny made your way into the dilapidated storage building along with your friends from Baltimore.

You glanced around at the place, attention turning to the small huffs of frustration coming from your boyfriend next to you. He was fiddling with the zipper on his jacket, the grooves stuck in the fabric. Nimble fingers worked it loose as you stood amongst everyone, Danny’s lips pressing to your hairline in a sweet thanks.

There is no way in whatever is holy, if there even is anything out there, that Joel is seeing who he thinks he’s seeing. They must be a figment of his imagination. It’s been seven years.

And then he hears that laugh. This stranger has a laugh that he would recognize anywhere.

That’s your laugh. That smile is yours, too. And when you turn towards him finally, his gaze fixed on you since you entered the room, he meets your eyes. Those eyes that made his heart sing whenever they shined with joy, made him shatter when they were filled with tears, made him completely head over heels for you.

And right now, they were making it all come rushing back. The heartbreak, the loss, the grief, the love.

A small gasp escapes your mouth when you recognize him. He was aging, that much he knew. Had some grays sprinkled into his brown hair, his beard was just as patchy as it had been before. He had harsher lines on his face, the world wearing him down much quicker than it would if the outbreak never happened — if he never knew what loss was like.

You’re taking inventory of all of his changes, and he notices similar ones in you. Your hair is longer, even pulled back he can tell it’s inches past where you normally would keep it. There’s the faintest wrinkles next to your eyes, soft smile lines near your lips. Signs that you stayed light in the world of darkness. That made the pain in his chest lessen just the smallest amount.

He keeps checking that you’re still there during the entire meeting. Tess does the talking, some grumbles of rules coming from him, but he’s thankful that she’s taken the lead ‘cause he doesn’t know if he could get more than a handful of words out at a time. With arms crossed over his chest, he pinches his bicep as he glances at you again, assuring himself that he isn’t dreaming or having a bad trip from those pills he takes.

The rest of the meeting goes by quickly, plans are made for the next few runs to integrate the newest additions. He stays back, hoping that you would do the same. There was no way that he wasn’t going to talk to you; he’d run after you if you left.

Luckily for him, you had understood the subliminal messages in the short bits of eye contact he made with you.

The guy that was with you stayed, too, but he stood near the exit while you stepped closer to Joel.

With you right in front of him, he gave himself another quick pinch before clearing his throat. Just when he was about to break the growing awkward tension in the stale air, he heard your voice crack.

“Hi.”

That’s all you say, and suddenly he can’t help the grin that quips up to the side. A hushed chuckle exhales through his mouth shortly, eyes locking with yours.

“Hey there, bonny.”

He watches your shoulders drop from their frigid position, uneasiness visibly relaxing after the greeting. He grins wider, dimple deepening in his cheek as his chest tightens from the gentle reaction he’s gotten out of you.

He still had the tiniest bit of his accent. Especially when he said that nickname. Short for bluebonnet, Texas’s wildflower, which is where the name originated from. Joel called you his wildflower, and when you asked him what kind of flower one night, he told you he only knew bluebonnets. Typical proud Texan man. Eventually, the moniker turned into ‘bonny’.

It’s a nickname you hadn’t heard since your last phone call with him, disappointment evident in his voice when you had to confess that your planned surprise wasn’t going to happen and that you would be home the next day to celebrate with him belatedly.

“‘S alright, bonny. Sarah’s already got something planned for the two of us. Promised her I’d pick up a cake on the way home from the site.”

Your stomach had toiled with anxiety that day from his sadness that you were going to be missing from his birthday and that he was just missing you. This time around, hearing that same nickname roused your nerves from the thrill that it zipped down your spine, the sound of his voice around the words tingling in your ears.

The two of you make introductions to your respective tag-alongs, Joel to Danny and you to Tess. Greetings were passed and conversation flowed, the two of you skating around your history with company present, only divulging necessary details. You two dated before. That was it. They didn’t need to know how long, how serious, how you mourned the loss of him and the life you two built together.

Ignoring the past in conversation was easy. Ignoring the physical pull you felt towards him was more of a challenge. Heat crawls up your back and settles on the nape of your neck, tongue poking out to wet your lips every few moments. Fingertips itch to touch his skin, to trace the lines on his palms, and to brush over the scar on the right side of his face. One he didn’t have with you, and you wanted to know what it was from.

You wanted to know a lot from him. What these last seven years looked like for him. Once the conversation died down naturally, you faced Joel and asked him gently the first of the two most pressing questions you wanted answered.

“Where’s Tommy? Guessin’ the two of you are still glued to each other like you were back then,” you tack on a light laugh to your query, feeling the rush of panic as you realize that these answers you were wanting might not be answers that you want to hear. A lump forms in your throat as you wait for his response, a tender look on your face.

“He’s, uh, he’s here still. Doesn’t run with us though, he’s been getting into shit with the Fireflies here. Drives me insane, but you know how he is.”

“Always a joiner,�� the words roll off your tongue and you bite down on it, cursing yourself internally for making fun of his brother without really knowing how this Joel would respond.

Relief washes over you when he laughs, not a full one, but nevertheless, you got to see a sliver more of that smile that had you smitten.

“Got that right. Tommy always wants to be a hero,” he shakes his head back and forth, an adoring smirk on his face as his stare lengthens and his mind is taken to his younger brother for a moment.

With the news of Tommy, you were even more eager to ask your second question. It gripped your heart, tugging it nearly out of your chest. Your voice softened as you spoke to him, eyes involuntarily watering in anticipation.

“And Sarah?”

Silence. As if the words catch in his throat and start to choke him from the inside. His eyes widen in loss of oxygen, chest still as he holds his breath. He can’t look away from you, eyes quickly pacing to hold contact with yours. They communicate desperation, as if he wants so badly to explain, to tell you what happened to his daughter that you loved, but he can’t get the words out of his airway.

It tells you everything, that look. You hadn’t lost your ability to read Joel, and the realization completely demolishes the composure you were attempting to maintain. Closing the gap between you, you focus on Joel as you wrap your arms around his waist, tight and full of compassion. Your head rests on his chest, facing to the side. Everything else in the room falls away, muscle memory moving your hands in circles against his lower back in the way you remember he loved. He’s tense in your arms, his own wrapping around your shoulders hesitantly until he feels the comforting touch. Tautness breaks from him, resting more of his weight against you as his head dips down to rest his chin on you and his eyes close.

Yours close too, and just for that moment, you’re back in his kitchen, sticky summer morning air coating the room from the open screen door. Cartoons squeak from the TV in the other room, and the smell of Joel’s French toast wafts from it’s crisping on the stove.

Domestic bliss. What could’ve been.

That hug has tormented Joel for weeks. The first time he saw you, the first time he heard your voice, the first time he held you after he thought he never would again. And that one time has unearthed a hunger for more. A need for you. Doesn’t matter if he’s around you or not, he can’t stop thinking about you.

When you’re on runs with him, he has one eye on you at all times. When it’s a route without your boyfriend, he feels a bit bolder; touches linger on your back as he guides you through obstacles or around your arms as he holds you back to get ahead of you to clear a room.

He’s been trying, so desperately trying, to respect your relationship. Not that you mention him much, but you and Danny arrived in Boston, shacked up together, and have made no hints at that changing. For now.

It’s gotten to the point where it’s driven him to drink, added to the long list of things he needs to be inebriated or high to cope with.

This is how he ended up at the QZ speakeasy, a few blocks from his building which makes it an easy past-curfew destination. Sole occupant of the low, barrel table against the back wall, he pounds a whiskey back which quickly turns into three. A buzz has started in his body and his mind, a clear path to his ideal destination on the horizon. It was a shitty run today, mostly coming up dry and having to deny some trades. Plus, you weren’t with him.

When he’s waving the bartender for another glass, his eyes skate across the room and catch you standing at the top landing of the stairs that snake down to the warehouse basement bar, eagerness evident in your expression when you find him. Overprotective, he watches you bound down the stairs to make sure you get to whoever you’re meeting without any issues. He’d be more than happy to step in if someone got too close.

Focused on his self-appointed task, he doesn’t realize that you’re making your way over to him excitedly until you’re standing in front of his table, gesturing to the empty seat across from him that he offers to you.

Plopping down in the wooden chair, a goofy smile stretches across your face as the giddiness of being around him flickers in your stomach. You’d felt this jolt of energy being near him, thinking about him. It’d been like that for weeks since you saw him again and held him. It was a spark, and now your embers were slowly catching fire the more time you spent with Joel.

Greetings were exchanged, and him buying you a drink along with another for himself. Finger tracing around the lip of your glass, you glance up at him and attempt to make small talk if only to be able to hear his voice.

“So, how was the run today?”

“‘S fine. Pretty dry.” His response is clipped, mumbled out as he brings his drink up to his lips for a swig.

“Oh, really? That’s a shame. You got another one planned?” you keep your eyes on him, watching as he looks anywhere but at you. Around the table, across the room, even at his own boot.

“Yeah, got one next week.” Joel’s grumbling, deep crease between his brows as he sulks in his chair.

“Maybe I can join you on that one?” you propose, hoping that it gets his attention. Sure, you could be reading into it, but something told you that he enjoyed having you around as much as you enjoyed being around him. Brows raised in hopefully curiosity, anticipation swells your tongue in your mouth.

“Maybe.”

That’s it? That’s all he has to say?

Joel’s always been a man of few words, always crafting careful and thoughtful responses when you were together. But this? This is ridiculous. He clearly doesn’t want you around, his eyes darting as if to look for the fastest escape route. It stings, deflating your excitement. The chance of this encounter was the sole reason you went out tonight. Danny had fucked off to play poker or gamble away ration cards with some other guys he’d gotten buddy-buddy with, and it didn’t help that you two had been drifting further from each other over the last week. You weren’t sure how much longer this companionship would be worth it, and with Joel always around, it certainly was starting to blur some lines. He always made you feel better, even when he wasn’t trying. Except for tonight.

Your hurt boils into anger, and you scoff at him, arms crossing firmly in front of your chest.

“You keep acting like you’re looking for a chance to leave. If I’m keeping you here, feel free to go. I’ll drink by myself.”

Joel looks at you, his eyes softening. He opens his mouth, then shuts it, thinking about what he should say. You get annoyed by his lack of response, grabbing your drink off the table and slipping out of your chair to leave him there.

“Are you really that oblivious, bonny?”

You turn back, anger growing at the thought that he’s mocking you.

“Well, screw me for trying to make conversation with you, Joel. I guess I am oblivious ‘cause I thought we could be friends or, I don’t know, at least civil after all this time.”

“Bonny, I can’t be friends with you.”

He’s kicking you when you're down, clearly just being cruel.

“Why? What did I do?”

“I can’t be friends with you, ‘cause I want more than that.”

The honesty stuns you. Sure, you had felt that pull towards Joel again, but you didn’t know that he felt the same way or that he would act on it if he did. He gets up from his chair, taking a step closer to you before he continues.

“I looked for you, y’know? After everything. All I wanted was to have you back. I knew you’d know what I needed. And when I saw you again, I realized why I couldn’t stop looking. What I needed most was you.”

He stands close to you now, warm breaths intermingling with the other’s, humidity heating your cheeks while his eyes stay locked on you. Everything you’ve felt since Joel had been revived into your life suddenly becomes overwhelming; you can’t contain them, can’t compartmentalize them anymore. You reach for him, hand pressed over his heart, feeling the rushed beating pulsing under your touch.

His eyes look down slowly to his chest and then back up to you when you whisper, “Mine feels the same way when I see you.”

“Is that right? Can I feel for myself?”

You nod slowly, peeling your hand off of him only for him to catch it and hold it in his. Your voice is thick, “Maybe somewhere a little more private? Like your place?”

He looks confused for a second, brows knitting together before it dawns on him, pupils widening and darkening his eyes.

“Let’s get out of here, bonny.”

Keys jingle as he twists them in the lock, throwing the thin wooden door open after he pulls them out. He nods for you to step in ahead of him, taking a few paces into the apartment and surveying around. The door clicks behind you and the deadbolt slides into place, the sounds sending goosebumps across your skin at the prospect of being totally alone with Joel, no watchful eyes or possible interruptions.

Eyes continue to skate along the room, tiny details noted. Half-drunk whiskey bottle on the counter, small baggies of pills on the coffee table, other finds from his side occupation littering the space.

His weighted steps drag across the worn wooden floors at your back, the presence of him hanging behind you slowing your breaths in suspense. Saliva coats your mouth at the dryness of your thirst, hair standing off of your skin in waiting.

The first touch you feel is his fingers brushing against the back of your neck, sweeping the hair there off to one side and holding it there. Joel takes one step closer, chest pressing against your shoulder blades and crotch against the swell of your ass. The warmth radiating off of him sends a shiver down your spine, jolting against him briefly. Your breaths pause as you wait for his next move, eyes fluttering closed when his lips touch the nape of your neck in a ghostly kiss. A hand wraps around you, resting just over your breast to feel the rapid beating of your heart, the rhythm matching his own that you feel against your back. A placid gasp puffs from between your lips, snapping the taut tension between the two of you and sending a new urgency to his actions.

Palms encase your hips, spinning you around to face him and tugging you close to feel every curve pushed against him. His lips find yours in a hungry kiss, your own mouth opening in a sigh at the contact. Joel takes this as an opportunity to lick into your mouth, tongue dominating yours and swallowing every whimper that comes out of you.

Your own hands grip his shoulders, nails dragging against the fabric down to his biceps. Fingertips dig into the flexed muscles, steadying yourself as he starts to walk you backward throughout his place. He never leaves your lips, knowing the space with his eyes closed to lead you all the way back through the door to the small bedroom on the left side of the living space.

A whine escapes you when his mouth detaches from yours, working kisses along your jaw to the hollow under your ear, sucking at the space there. A groan rumbles from his chest when you let out a soft moan and hold his arms tighter, hips involuntarily jerking against his growing bulge.

Lust-blown eyes stare into yours as he stands up fully again, delicate touch brushing your cheek before his thumb nudges the scar that sits on your brow. The look in his eyes pains for half a second, and you finally speak up since leaving the speakeasy.

“‘S not a good story. Happened from a lamp falling onto my head when I was raiding around some suburban house. Just an accident. You wouldn’t have been able to stop it from being there.”

His gaze meets yours again, tugged away from the fibrous tissue on your face. The bulb in his throat bobs when he swallows, head moving side to side minutely.

His hand caresses your cheek, voice thick with his drawl when he softly responds, “You underestimate me, bonny.”

The words gloss your vision, quick blinks settling the emotion and clearing the picture of Joel in front of you again. Your heart constricts in your chest, attempting to imagine the amount of pain that he’s been through, but you can’t even begin to know.

Instead of dwelling on the moment, he presses one light, affectionate kiss to your lips before he takes a step back. He grips the hem of your shirt, brows quirking up in a silent question. You nod subtly, the permission allowing him to slowly tug the fabric over your head. He devours the newly exposed skin with his burning stare, compelled to bend down and trace his lips over every new mark he sees while his hands move across your curves to reacquaint himself with your new features. Wider hips, rougher skin, purply stretch marks veining your skin along with ropy paths where injuries had healed over.

Joints crack softly as he settles onto his knees in front of you, sending you into light giggles while he groans and presses his forehead against your lower tummy. He reaches around and playfully smacks your jean-covered ass, a fake scowl on his face when he looks up at you from his praying position.

“‘Nuff gigglin’ at me, you’re gonna feel this sore come morning.”

The threat of his words floods arousal between your thighs, bottom lip toyed between your teeth as you quiet down your laughter. Joel kisses your clothed thigh, fingers popping the button of your jeans and dragging the zipper before they hook in your waistband and tug the denim down your legs. Joel laughs lightly at your silence, eyes finding yours as his hands lift each of your feet one at a time to help you out of your pants.

“Thought that might get you excited, lil’ lamb. I know you’re gonna be such a good girl for me, aren’t ya?”

The wink that follows his drawl jolts your limbs and fingers twist into his locks as his open mouth exhales warm, humid air on your panty-covered mound. He presses his face against the fabric, inhaling deeply and moaning softly at the scent of you.

“Fuck, sugar, it’s still the same. Missed you so much. You think you still taste the same?” He directs the question up to your face, your head lulled down to meet his gaze. A smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth, mischief glittering in your eyes.

“Only one way to find out, baby.”

His amber eyes were pools of ink with how much they darkened, full of carnality. Large fingers smoothly strip you out of your panties, his figure coming to stand at his full height in front of you. Gripping your waist, he guides you back to sit on the edge of the mattress, lifting your legs by your thighs and easily maneuvering you toward the center.

Joel moves to climb onto the bed with you, but your soft sigh of frustration stops him.

“I wanna see you. ‘Specially if I’m completely naked, ‘s only fair that you are, too,” you gripe to him, bottom lip protruding only slightly in a pout. Joel considers for a moment, ultimately deciding that fair’s fair. He pulls his knee off of the mattress and makes quick work of undressing, his own clothes laying rumbled on the floor with yours.

Satisfied with his fulfillment of your request, your eyes completely devour his bare body as he moves to kneel on the mattress between your open legs. Fighting for survival has kept him fit, broad shoulders flexing as he lifts your legs at the crook of your knees to spread them further. His chest is firm, the rest of his torso softer just as it had always been. It was one of your favorite parts of him, the sight of it now taking you back to times cuddling him on the couch or in bed, head in his lap to press kisses against his tummy or resting your head there and being lulled to sleep. Your fingernails comb through the happy trail, pressing into the skin of his lower abdomen as you sit up to kiss him deeply. He moans quietly against your lips, your knees pressing into his stocky thighs, toes curling against the flexed muscles in his calves. Your arms settle around his neck, lips chasing his as he pulls back to look at you.

“I really did miss you, bonny. Couldn’t believe it when you were in front of me again. Still can’t really believe it right now.” His voice is breathy, eyes holding yours, moving back and forth minutely. One of his hands encompasses the left side of your face, the other moving down between your bodies, his frame bent over yours. Two fingers work circles into your clit, inhale catching in your throat while your legs tense from the feeling of his touch on you.

“M-Missed you, too. So much. I looked for you everywhere I went. Needed you again, I need you now.”

“‘M right here, lil’ lamb. Not going anywhere again. I’m gonna make you feel so good, just like I used to.”

His fingers working your clit slip through your wetness, pressing against your entrance to coax a moan out of you. He hooks them into you, pushed against your spongy walls in search for that spot he’d been all too familiar with. Like riding a bike, he fell right back into what you had loved from him before, knowing just how to work you up. His jaw dropped slightly as his eyes glued to where his fingers thrusted into you; he closed his mouth every so often to swallow the saliva flooding his mouth until he couldn’t wait another second to taste you again.

Joel folded over, legs scooting back on the bed to allow his head to sit between your thighs, tongue lapping against your clit feverishly and switching with his lips every so often to suck at the same spot.

The sounds leaving you at that point were wanton and lewd, mixing with the squelch of your wetness. You felt the familiar knot tightening in your stomach until it’s pulled loose, a loud gasp of his name while your nails dig into his shoulder and walls tighten around him.

He keeps his pace, mouth still attached to your core. He’s not going to let up without you saying something, and you can’t take another moment without him giving you what you want — what you need from him. Fingers tangled in his mussed hair, peeling him from between your thighs. He meets your eyes, lips and chin shining with dampness in the low light of the bedroom and fingers pulling out of you. Eyes blown into blackness at the sight of your pleasure, mouth opening to speak when you cut him off.

“More of that later, if you really want it. But I need you. Inside of me.”

Joel smirks devilishly, fingers coated in your come pushing between your lips and into your mouth for you to clean off.

“Just tastes so sweet, bonny. Can’t help but want seconds,” his hard cock twitches where it lays against your thigh at the feeling of your tongue sucking his fingers, “Better ask again nicely, lamb. Or else I’m not giving you anything.”

The smirk stays painted on his face, a huff of frustration as your hips jerk up to chase his hand that hover over you, desperate for more.

“Please, pretty please. I need you,” you beg, pleading in your eyes as you look through your lashes, dull nails scratching his skin.

“That’s my good girl. Kept your manners.” The wink he sends you flutters your walls around nothing, whimpering as he manipulates you into his desired position.

Joel straddles one of your thighs, bringing the other up to lay against his torso and rest on his shoulder. Your hips turn only slightly to the side in the position, opening your pelvis into a kindling heat. He spits in one of his palms, fingers of the same hand running shortly through your arousal and then mixing the fluids to coat the tender skin of his length. The head of him pushes into you deliciously measured, his motion pausing for you to adjust.

It only takes a moment before your body remembers, the muscles of your tight pussy molding around him once again. Your body feels the familiarity of him, the reactions it has are heightened from the comfort of his own body, focusing solely on how perfectly he fits inside of you.

“Damn, sugar, feel like your little pussy got even tighter. Feels so pefect around me, like she knows who’s about to fuck her just right,” his voice is coated with lust, jaw laxing with a guttural groan when he pushes further into you.

When Joel finally starts a rhythm, slow and deep at first, your eyes roll back into your skull as your head presses hard into the mattress under you. The position brings him incredibly deep, and his size fills you nearly to the brim. It was a feeling you hadn’t felt since the last time you’d had him, his veins on his swollen cock carving the same paths along your insides to feel every detail of him.

“Feel so full, baby. Haven’t felt it since I had you last,” your voice is higher and breathier, toned in a whine.

“That’s right, bonny. Nobody makes you feel as good as I do, huh? Probably haven’t had a decent fuck for years, you poor thing.”

All you can do in response is moan, hands gripping his forearms that are the part of his nearest to you.

He fucks you like this for a good moment, moaning your name quietly before he huffs in frustration, completely pulling out of you. Immediately, you mewl at the loss, head shooting up to protest before he’s moving you to his will again.

“Just a second, sugar. Need to be able to kiss you and feel you all over. Being such a good girl for me, I promise you’re gonna love this.”

He still couldn’t be as deep and close to you as he needed to be in the previous position, so he manipulates your jellied limbs easily to be able to fully cover you with his body. His grip is on your knees, bending your one leg that was once between his thighs to move your calf to hook over his shoulder. Once both your legs are settled on his frame, he continues to stretch your hips by leaning over you, pinning your thighs back to your ribs. He’s completely opened your lower half, folding you back to the point where his tummy is resting against yours and his face is hovering over you. Muscles in your legs and hip flexors burn and spasm, but you can’t care for even a moment when Joel thrusts into you again. You’d never been in this position with him before, and your mind instantly clears of any thoughts besides how hard and deep Joel is fucking you, how you had never felt as full and complete as you did in that moment.

He chuckles as he watches you completely cock drunk, one hand leaving your leg. The large palm finds your lower abdomen, pressing against it as he locks his gaze in yours.

“Can you feel me right here, lil’ lamb? Feel me deep, pushing your belly?” His voice is sweetened sickeningly, the pride and amusement of being the one to give you this experience, to make you feel that full once again evident in the twinkle of his eyes and the sideways smirk on his face.

Chants of his name leave your mouth, your voice barely covering the sounds of his skin slapping against yours steadily.

With him inside of you, it was like two puzzle pieces joining together to finish the picture. The satisfaction of completion was there on all fronts, his rhythm frying your nerves and tightening that red hot coil in your core. With his body covering yours in this embrace, he keeps his mouth on you, heady kisses to your lips when you can take it and mouth biting or licking along your chin, jaw, and neck when you need to breathe.

His motions switch up in the next instant, pushed into you at the hilt as his hips circle to grind you on him. He makes tight figure eights, the act getting you to the point where he’s fucked you completely dumb. All you want in that moment is to feel his warm spend inside of you, watch his face contort from his own pleasure. You can tell he’s close the less he speaks and the more he pants, head falling to your shoulder and eyes closing as he focuses hard to keep pace.

“Come inside me, please. I want it,” your tone is urgent, spilling the words out before your orgasm blinds you white-hot, mind clear of everything except for the euphoric high Joel’s given you. Tightening around him, he moans loudly, thrusts becoming messy and stacatto as he chases his own peak.

“God, such a perfect girl for me. You gonna keep my come in you all night? Go back to your boyfriend tomorrow with it dripping out?”

All you can do is nod, cunt fluttering around him as it starts to work into overstimulation, the rub of his skin against your clit so pleasurable it’s getting painful. Your voice falters when a third orgasm pulses through you.

“Y-Yes, yes. I want you inside for as long as it’ll stay there. Pl-Please, baby.”

Your begging pushes Joel over the edge, hips stuttering as ropes of his warm spend fill you up. He starts to work into you again, fucking it deeper before he finishes.

The pair of you are sweaty, sticky messes; hair tangled, lips swollen, eyelids heavy in recovery. Joel stays inside of you, gently moving your legs down and his own arms wrapping under you to lay you on your side with him, lifting one of your legs to rest on his hip.

Soft, supple kisses are shared as the two of you drift in and out of consciousness, eventually falling asleep completely.

Blue tinted sunlight creeps into the sole window of Joel’s bedroom, the night sky fading into a lilac dawn. You’re studying Joel as he sleeps, long lashes grazing his cheeks, lips parted just enough to let some light snores escape. Your finger delicately traces the scar on his right temple, your featherlight touch causing his eyes to flutter open and find your gaze half awake.

Joel’s immediately in fight or flight mode, arm around your waist tightening as he holds you closer.

“You okay? Something happen?” His voice is hoarse from sleep, clearing his throat as the slight panic wakes his up more.

Gently, you rest your hand on his chest and shake your head with a tender smile.

“Everything’s fine, you can relax. I was just lookin’ at you before I have to go home.”

Joel deflates, brow creasing at the mention of you needing to leave, to go home to your equally shitty apartment and some guy that wasn’t him. Jealousy flicked in his chest, a confession sitting in his throat for a minute before he let it out.

“I really did mean it, y’know. I need you. Now that I’ve got you back in my life, I can’t let you go. You’re some of the only family I’ve got left, and I don’t think I could survive losing you again.” His voice is shaky, wet brown eyes locked with yours. You have rarely seen Joel this unguarded, even in your life before, without the hardness that had come with the constant threat to his survival hanging over his head. The words wrapped around your heart, squeezing tightly and ripping it out of your chest to give to him. Silence falls between the two of you as an understanding washes over you, relaxing your body as the memory of safety, comfort, and home ripples throughout every muscle. You tell him what you have felt since the moment you saw him again:

“I’m not going anywhere, Joel. Not without you.”

tagging the mutuals: @swiftispunk @joelsversion @johnwatsn @midnightswithdearkatytspb @pedrit0-pascalit0 @theelishad @undrthelights @ladamedusoif @ruinedbylanadelrey @thetriumphantpanda @pedgeitopascal @dinsdjrn @thepascalofus @pedgito @soaringcloud @somedayauthor @alloftheimagines @pr0ximamidnight @beskarandblasters @atinylittlepain @nicolethered @scrambledslut @lunapascal