#UndercoverAprilShowersChallenge

[aurorawritestoescape]

GOOD GIRL || Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you get caught in the rain on your way to Professor Miller’s house and your lesson gets derailed.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, big age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel’s in his late 40s), insecure reader, soft!Joel, praise, f!oral, unprotected piv, belly bulge, use of a morning after pill, slight Professor kink, power imbalance. Joel can pick up reader, reader has hair. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no physical description.

Word count: 7,9k

A/n: this is for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge. Big thank you to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing. Hope you all will enjoy it💖

MASTERLIST

You are rushing along an empty suburban street caught in a warm summer rain. Soaked strands of hair are sticking to your face and you brush them off, feeling your clothes getting wet too. Drops of water are trickling down your naked thighs as your skirt rides up and your shoes squelch with every hurried step.

The rain isn’t too heavy and you might have enjoyed it some other time but not now, not when you’re running late for your lesson at Professor Miller’s house. You could have waited it out under a tree but by the look of it, the pouring won’t stop soon.

You didn’t want to make Professor Miller wait. He is already doing you a huge favor, tutoring you a few hours a week in preparation for another year at college.

You decided to switch majors and, being a good friend of your mother, Professor Miller agreed to help you so you could catch up on what you had missed and get more confident in the new field.

Frankly you wouldn’t be late if you hadn’t been running circles in your room, trying to decide what to wear. Of course, you had a crush on Professor Miller. He was handsome, intelligent, nice and much older than you. But you’d never act on it because you couldn’t even imagine him looking at you like that. So you weren’t choosing anything to attract him that day. All you wanted was to look nice. You always wore formal clothing out of respect for him. One time you put on a band tee and a pair of ripped jeans for your lesson and felt terribly out of place next to the perfect Professor Miller. After that you swore to yourself to look presentable at his lessons.

You’re looking very far from presentable when Professor Miller opens the door to you now. Yet there’s not a trace of displeasure in his warm gaze.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re soaked!” he exclaims, eyes widened behind his black-rimmed glasses.

“Forgot my umbrella, so sorry,” you mumble, stepping inside. You take off your wet shoes and put on the slippers you always wear in his house. Seeing that you’re dripping water on the floor, you silently curse.

As a striking contrast to you Professor Miller looks impeccable. Beautiful dark curls are combed back, a black sweater over a white dress shirt and black slacks make him look like he’s on a red carpet rather than in a suburban house on a Saturday.

He rushes away, mumbling something about towels, and you peek into the hall mirror to check the damage.

What you see makes you want to jump out of the window - your mascara is running, the hair’s wet and disheveled but what makes your heart drop to your stomach is your white blouse, soaked, stuck to your torso and completely see-through. Your chest is fully exposed except for your white lacy bra which isn’t much help either as you can definitely see your nipples.

Your hands dart to cover yourself but you don’t want to attract more attention to it, so you try to cross your arms over your breasts as casually as possible.

“Here.” You jerk, hearing Professor Miller’s beautiful voice and take a towel from him with a quiet ‘thank you.’

“Can I use the bathroom?” You ask, hugging the towel close to your chest.

“Of course, take your time. Join me in the office when you’re ready.”

You love Professor Miller’s guest bathroom. All of his house actually. It’s always neat and feels warm and cozy. Every piece of furniture seems thought through, the colors are rich but calming and you often find yourself wishing to stay here longer.

You clean your face up and dry yourself as well as you can. Your hair is still damp, but the skirt is not that wet. On the other hand your blouse still makes you wanna cry. At some point you contemplate asking Professor Miller for a spare shirt but this seems very inappropriate.

So you take a deep breath and decide that you can cover your almost exposed breasts with a book or something else.

You walk to the office and hastily join Professor Miller at his desk. A cup of hot tea is waiting for you next to a stack of books.

“Take a seat, sweetheart,” he says, patting the chair next to him and you plop down awkwardly, trying to hide your indecency. “Drink this. It’ll help you to get warm.” His gaze slides over you fast, not sticking to anything in particular, and you ease up a little.

He starts the lesson by checking your homework and explains your mistakes. You nod but hardly listen to him. So close to Professor Miller you feel disappointed in yourself, looking like an idiot who forgets to check the weather before leaving the house.

A light breeze hits your back and you shiver.

“Oh, I’ll close the window.” Professor Miller rushes to stand up, but you stop him with a hand on his arm. As if electrified by the feeling of his firm muscles under your touch, you dart your hand back, as your cheeks burn and you say,

“It’s ok. I love the sound of rain.”

“But you must be cold? Here, take my cardigan.” You object but he doesn’t listen, grabbing it off his chair and putting it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you breathe out, wrapping yourself in it as his scent envelops you. He smells of vanilla and cardamom and you can’t help but take a deep breath of him. He smiles, but you don’t notice it.

A couple of times during the lesson Professor Miller seems to lose his train of thought and you blame your look for it. He must be thinking that you look like a stray wet dog and your mood gets worse.

When he stands up to get a book from his home library you use the pause to apologize,

“I’m sorry again for looking like this. I should have waited the rain out but I was running late.”

He turns to you, standing at the wall full of books, and shakes his head, a warm smile on his handsome face,

“What are you talking about? You look great.”

“Ehm…I doubt it. I bet I’ve left a puddle in your hall like a wet dog.”

He chuckles, then grabs the necessary book and returns to the desk. He sits down and turns slightly towards you. His knee touches your naked thigh and you press your legs together, feeling the tingling between them. With a new wave of embarrassment overtaking you, you close the cardigan over your chest. He doesn’t look down but instead searches for your eyes.

“You look amazing, sweetheart, you always do. And I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. It’s just rain.”

The sun peeks through the clouds for a second, and when its golden rays fill the room, you notice how beautifully Professor Miller’s eyes sparkle behind the glasses when the light shines on them. It takes your breath away and you lower your gaze with a smile. His praise makes you feel warm and fuzzy and your heart sings at the sincerity in his voice.

“Thank you.” Your quiet words are barely audible because of the sound of the rain outside.

Professor Miller takes a deep sigh. “Sometimes when I look at you…I wish I was younger.”

Your jaw nearly hits the floor as you look up at him and stumble, “W- what… why? Really? Why?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, my back wouldn’t give me so much grief.”

You’re nodding with a fake smile, disappointed by his answer. He’d never look at you this way, in a different way. He’s perfect and you’re …well, you. He interrupts your self-deprecation saying softly, “Sweetheart, you worry too much. You, young people, don't understand how lucky you are. You have the whole life ahead of you, you’re free of regrets, sorrows. And the youth passes so quickly.”

You’re staring at him now, lips half parted, and then suddenly blurt out, “I am afraid. Almost all the time.”

“Of what? Why?” He asks, looking concerned.

“I don’t know. Of… everything.”

You turn slightly to him on the chair but quickly avert your gaze and stare back at the open window. The thrumming of the rain outside makes it easier to talk, as if it is accompanying your words.

“I’m afraid of my future. How wonderful it can be or how unhappy I might become. I study hard thinking …wishing the result will give me happiness but what if it doesn’t. I worry about my future career, but I’m not even sure I want it. I.. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You feel wetness coating your eyes and glance at him. He’s looking at you with intent, his brows slightly furrowed in thought.

You sniff, turning back to the desk, and stare at your fingers fumbling with the corner of Professor Miller’s cardigan.

“Sweetheart, no one knows what the fuck they’re doing.”

Your head whips up and you gawk at him with widened eyes. You’ve never heard him swear and never thought you ever would. He smiles, as if finding your reaction amusing.

“I might look all put together but I’m just like you. Scared, unsure… hell, we all are. No matter the age, I doubt it ever goes away,” he says placing his heavy hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, “But you can try to focus on the present, enjoy the moment, enjoy yourself.”

The sadness in your eyes makes him chuckle bitterly, “My intent was to help but it seems like I’ve done the opposite.”

“No, it’s fine. I appreciate you telling me this but I doubt I can do that.“

He watches you for a few moments and suddenly his face lights up and a charming lopsided smile twists his lips. You almost giggle at how mischievous and joyful he looks.

“I know what we should do.” He gets up and offers you his hand.

You look up at him confused but so much joy is radiating from him, you can’t say ‘no’. You take his hand and your whole body vibrates with skin on skin contact. You’re overwhelmed by his and your confession, by the unexpected turn your lesson took, and your heart is fluttering in your chest.

You follow him to the living room, your hand in his, and come up to the French windows which lead to the back yard. He lets go of your hand and you fix his cardigan that’s slipping off your shoulders.

Professor Miller opens the windows and a flow of humid slightly cold air rushes into the room and you wrap the cardigan tighter around your torso. The rain got heavier and you see little puddles on the patio.

He turns to you and says, louder than usual, so you could hear through the drumming of the shower.

“You know what I want to do now? What will make me happier?”

He starts walking backwards out to the wet patio and you open your mouth and giggle,

“Oh my god, Professor! What are you doing?”

He shoots you a wink and steps under the heavy rain. Then he tilts his head up, closing his eyes and exposing his face to the drops, falling from the sky.

“Please, come back inside!” You walk up to him, still standing under the cover of the roof. You place your hand on his shoulder and grab him lightly. “Come back inside, you’ll get cold. I’m not sad anymore, I promise.”

Just a few moments under the downpour are enough to drench him and when he looks at you, his glasses are all wet, curls are stuck to his forehead, his sweater is soaked.

“Do you like walking in the rain, sweetheart?”

“Well, sometimes yeah, I guess, but…”

“Great!”

With that, he grabs your hand on his shoulder and pulls you out onto the wet grass. You gasp, feeling the rain drops on your face and body again, your clothes and slippers getting wet slowly but surely. You try to get back inside but he quickly closes the windows and stands in front of you, not letting you through.

“Come on, sweetheart, enjoy this summer rain with me.”

“I will but maybe inside the house?” you plead, trying to cover your head with your hands.

“And where's the fun in that? C’mon,” he returns your pleading gaze with his own, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Let’s enjoy the moment. Do what you want. Don’t worry about the future. Live now.”

His hands leave your shoulders and he steps up closer, making you walk further from the cover of his house. Watching him prowl towards you like that, with a charming smile, his hands in the pockets of his slacks, sends a surge of arousal through your core and you feel yourself getting wet not only from the rain. You stop and he does too, an arm length from you.

You two are standing in the middle of the backyard, smiling at each other, while the heavy rain is soaking your clothes, drawing wet paths down your faces.

You follow his lead from a few moments ago, looking up and closing your eyes. You feel the drops caressing your skin, kissing your eyelids, nose, lips and then sliding down your neck. For a moment you let go of your fears and hopes that weigh on you rather than motivate you and just feel, taking a deep breath.

When you open your eyes a few moments later, there’s something different about the way Professor Miller is looking at you. His cheer is gone and he’s serious again but not in his usual ‘I’m a professor’ way. His gaze is focused on you, dark eyes tracing your features with quiet hunger.

“What would you like to do right now?” He asks you, tilting his head to the side. The answer comes to you like lightning and you act on it immediately.

You take a step, reach up and kiss him. It’s just a peck but you stay there for a few seconds pressing your wet lips to his.

He breathes in sharply against your mouth and the realization of what you’ve just done hits you like a freight train. You part from him and step back, your eyes filled with terror.

You’re staring at each other for a few long moments, only the sound of rain and your pounding heartbeat breaking the silence. You open your mouth to dump all possible apologies on your tutor but you have no time to do it because in the next moment Professor Miller kisses you.

One hand on your neck, the other on your arm he’s kissing you, keeping you close, but not grabbing you. You can stop it any second. You don’t. You revel in the feeling of his lips gently caressing yours. They taste like rain. His thumb is sliding along your jaw and your pussy aches with need. You’re cold from the rain but burning up inside for him at the same time. A shiver runs through your body and his lips leave yours.

“Let’s go back inside. You are freezing,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. You curse your body for interrupting the most beautiful moment of your life but follow him when he takes your hand in his and leads you back into the house.

You’re dripping on his carpet in the living room until Professor Miller brings towels and you dry yourselves. He takes off his sweater and you swallow loudly when he rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt exposing his big forearms. His tousled wet curls take your breath away. One curl falls on his forehead and your heart hurts from how handsome he looks. He places his glasses on the coffee table and asks you,

“Would you like to change? I can give you my shirt. Or find something of Sarah.”

After discarding his soaked cardigan, you look down and see your sheer wet blouse sticking to your breasts but you don’t feel uncomfortable or embarrassed any more. You shake your head, wanting him to see you, all of you. The realization makes you gush and your pussy tingles, making you press your thighs together.

“God, you’re shivering, you can get sick,” he fusses over you and he’s right, you’re trembling all over, but not only because of the rain-drenched clothes. Your whole world is upside down. You shoved your crush on Professor Miller into the furthest corner of your heart, being scared of it. You were always good at limiting and controlling yourself, at making yourself feel less, not acting on your desires.

Until today.

Shaking legs bring you to the sofa and you sit down. He takes a blanket from the side of it and wraps you in it, rubbing your arms and back over the material, trying to warm you up.

He’s so close to you. You stare at his wet face, lashes stuck together, lips shining with the rain or your saliva or both.

It feels like a dream that you don’t want to end. His hands leave you and you look at each other. His gaze slides down to your lips and your heart flutters. You wonder if you have enough courage to kiss him again.

Suddenly you hear a loud thunder and jump in your seat. You look around and it’s like you finally woke up. Your heart freezes at the thought, ‘You kissed Professor Miller! You kissed your fucking tutor! Your mom’s friend! Fuck!’

Your head whips back to him. “I’m so sorry,” you mumble, trying not to burst into tears, your throat getting squeezed with embarrassment. “I…I don’t know why I’ve done it. I must have lost my mind. I’m sorry. Thank you for taking pity on me, Professor.”

His hand darts to your shoulder but he swiftly puts it away.

“First of all, call me Joel, please …and what do you mean by pity? I didn’t take pity on you. I acted inappropriately but… I wish you could see what I see when I look at you.”

You drop your head and murmur under your breath, “A complete mess?”

He sighs and takes your hand in his. His big warm palm engulfs it completely and you look up at him, not being able to contain yourself anymore, as tears well up in your eyes. His voice is warm and soft and so pleasant you wish he’d never stop talking.

“You’re a wonderful young woman. Intelligent, kind, capable of anything you’ll set your mind to. Your future is bright, I'm sure of it.”

You smile and tears roll down your cheeks.

“And you’re very beautiful. I hope someone tells you this.”

You sniff, eyes downcast, and shake your head, making your tears fall. Joel gently takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your head up so you would look at him. His face is blurry with all the wetness in your eyes. He cups your cheek and brushes a tear away with his thumb.

“Well, then let me do it. You’re the most beautiful woman I know.”

Your heart stops. At least you think so because what you’re hearing can not be real. You died and went to heaven otherwise it’s unbelievable that Professor Miller… Joel is telling you this.

You’re gawking at him and he chuckles before taking his hand away.

“I love that I can see all your emotions on your face.”

You hastily close your mouth and try to collect yourself while a whirlwind of feelings swirls in your stomach.

“And I don’t regret kissing you.”

You search his face for a sign of a joke, but find none. He looks and sounds serious and you feel yourself lean closer to him.

“Me neither, Joel,” you whisper, his name sweet on your tongue, and lean forward a little. It takes him a second to meet you halfway and kiss you. He takes the lead and moves his lips slowly and gently against yours but you feel that he’s holding himself down by the way he breathes, the way his lips move faster and with more vigor until he stops himself. You feel hot wrapped in the warm blanket so still glued to him you unwrap yourself and it pools at your feet.

“You’ll get cold,” he mumbles against your lips and you shake your head no, still kissing him. You don’t want it to end so you desperately cling to him with only your lips touching.

Another thunder shakes the house and you feel his hand on your naked knee. You part your legs and scoot closer to him and his thumb brushes your inner thigh. Your whole body erupts with chills.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers as his lips leave yours, “Your legs are ice cold.” He puts his hands on your arms, “And you’re still shivering, poor thing.”

You’re about to explain that it’s not because of the rain or wet clothes, at least not only. It’s him, his plush lips on yours, his warm hands gliding over your skin, his eyes looking at you so differently from what you’re used to. All of it makes every cell in your body vibrate, your stomach churn, your core burn with arousal.

But before you can tell him all that, he says something that makes you stop in your tracks, “Would you like to take a bath?”

For the hundredth time today you’re staring at him with your mouth agape.

“H-here? In your house?” you stumble, blinking at him.

“Yes. There's a nice tub upstairs in my bedroom.” He hears himself and hastily adds, “It’s not like that. Ehm… You can take it and I’ll wait for you here. I’m afraid you’ll get sick because of my carelessness.”

His beautiful brown eyes are pleading you to agree. You don’t want to leave him but your sodden cold clothes make the offer of a hot bath sound better with every second.

So you nod and he beams at you. In a second he’s walking upstairs and you’re trailing behind him, your hand in his. He leads you to his bedroom and you quickly look around, seeing that it’s perfect like the rest of his house, simple but cozy. You follow him to the en-suite bathroom and he starts the water. He explains to you how to make it colder and hotter like you’ve never seen a bathtub before but you don’t get offended or annoyed. He’s nervous, it’s visible and it makes you jittery too. Suddenly the idea of being alone without him makes you sad and your heart aches.

The tub fills up fast and while he’s telling you about the bath salts and towels you interrupt him,

“Can you stay?”

Now it’s his turn to gawk at you.

“When…until it’s full?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No, when I take it. Can you stay with me?”

He swallows loudly and takes a step closer to you.

“Sweetheart, I’ve crossed so many lines today. I’m not sure I can cross this one.”

“You told me to do what I want right? And I want you to stay with me, Joel,” you say louder, trying to feign confidence, before taking a step to him.

“Are you sure?”

You look deep into his eyes, so close that you can see your own reflection in them and reply,

“I'm not sure about anything in my life… but I'm sure that I want this,” you say, drawing an invisible line between your hearts with your finger, and add, “Really badly.”

His dark eyes are darting between yours as if he’s looking for a trace of doubt in them. He won’t find any. He’s reading your features and they probably tell him something because in the next moment he slowly leans to you. The kiss is soft but the more you taste him the more confident you get.

So you press your body to his and he groans when your lower belly touches his bulge. Your heart and pussy flutter when you realize how big and stiff he is. Is it because of you? A part of you can’t believe a man like him can be interested in you but his body can’t lie.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, pulling away but, in an attempt to interrupt something you don’t want to hear, you raise your hands and start unbuttoning your wet blouse.

Joel’s eyes are glued to your fingers, working their way up your top. Soon your belly is revealed, then sternum and your breasts, covered by the bra. You slide the blouse off your body and it pools at your feet.

“You’re so beautiful,” Joel whispers, as his hand slowly lifts to your breast and he brushes your nipple through the thin lace of the bra with his thumb. It’s already perked up from all the kissing and the cold and you whimper, your body vibrating with desire at the slightest touch of his big hand.

You get impatient and take your skirt off too. You’re standing in front of him wearing nothing but a lace white set and Joel growls like a hungry wolf. You bite your lip, hearing the sound of his desire for you.

His gaze slides from your face to your breasts, belly, hips, legs and up to your face again. He seems to make a decision because soon he starts unbuttoning his shirt too.

“I’m going to hell,” he mumbles as the expanse of his chest is revealed to you and you salivate seeing his golden skin, soft belly, happy trail that leads down. Your clit twitches when he unzips his pants.

Soon his clothes join yours on the floor and he places his hands on your waist. You try not to look at the huge tent in his boxers but fail miserably. He smiles and pulls you into his arms and you hug his middle. He’s big and hot against your cold skin and your whole body erupts in goosebumps.

“Still shivering, poor thing, let’s get you into the hot water,” he whispers and his hands slide to your back. He searches for your eyes and after you look up and nod, he unclasps your bra and takes it off you.

His chest is heaving when his gaze moves down to your naked breasts but he doesn’t stop stripping you. With his fingers hooked in your panties, he waits for your permission and then slides them down. They fall on the floor around your feet and you step out of them.

His eyes are completely obsidian now and his hands dart to you but he stops himself.

“Could you help me?” You ask and turn around before offering him your hand. He takes it and you step into the full tub. The water feels scolding hot at first but all your senses are focused on Joel and you lower yourself into the hot water. Sitting in the middle of the tub you look at his bulge, which is at your eye level now.

“Join me, please,” you plead and he mumbles soft “yeah,” before pulling his boxers down. His cock springs free and your pussy buzzes with anticipation and fear because he’s really big and thick.

Joel gets in the water behind you, his legs bent at the knees by your sides. He puts his hands on your shoulders and pulls you to lie down against his chest.

You rest your back on his warm broad chest and he wraps his arms around your waist. You feel his cock twitch against your lower back and a quiet whimper escapes your lips, “Joel.”

He almost purrs hearing how you said his name. You feel his heart beating hard at your back. His body, so big and strong, envelops you, warms you up better than the hot water around you and you feel like it’s where you belong, in his arms, reveling in his warmth, his softness, ready to give him anything he’d wish for.

The ache in your pussy gets harder to ignore and you squirm between his legs. He takes a sharp breath and bucks his hips against your butt. You feel his lips at your temple as he plants a kiss there.

“You’re so hot,” he praises you as his hands slide up your body and he cups your breasts. He palms your pebbled nipples and you moan, pressing your thighs together.

Then you tilt your head to the side and back and look up at Joel. His face is twisted in pleasure, eyes blown, and he lowers his head and catches your lips with his. This kiss is different from the ones you’ve shared before. Craving, impatience in every stroke of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, and you drown in pleasure of his caress.

Suddenly it’s not enough for the both of you. Without saying a word to each other you sit up and turn around while he helps you shift in the tub with his hands on your waist. You’re facing him now, standing on your knees, and he takes in your wet naked body before whispering,

“Let me make you feel good, sweetheart.”

You breathe out a soft ‘ok’ and in a second he lifts you up and sets you on the edge of the tub in the corner. You lean your back against the cold tile wall and shiver. Joel notices your reaction and starts pouring the water over you so you’d warm up again.

When you say that you’re not cold, he stands on his knees in front of you, his hands planted on the edge of the tub by your sides. He cages you in between his broad torso and the wall and your pussy pulsates for him.

“Could you spread your legs for me, please?” he says, sitting down on his heels, as his chest is pressed to your knees.

You slowly do what he asked and your pussy blooms for him, folds opening up to his view and Joel’s breath hitches and he llicks his lips at the sight.

“Oh, my,” he mumbles and glances up at you, "You have the most gorgeous pussy, sweetheart." That word on his lips sends a fiery wave through every inch of your body and you whimper, when he moves into the space between your legs, spreading your thighs wider with his broad torso.

His plush lips parted, eyes blown and restless, he takes you in - his gaze hastily runs over your face, breast, belly, cunt as if he can't get enough of you. He reaches for your face and kisses you deeply and passionately. His hand brushes against your aching pussy and you moan.

"My sweet girl," he whispers against the corner of your mouth and his soft lips move down to your neck, collar bone, chest. He's swirling his tongue over your nipple, his hand kneading your breast while you are running your fingers through his damp curls.

Soon he gets to your pussy and when his hot lips touch you there you almost come against his mouth.

“You’re sweet all over, honey,” he mumbles against your twitching clit, hunching down. Then he grabs your ankle in the water and lifts your leg.

“Put your foot on the edge, yeah, like that, good girl.” You’re completely exposed to him now but your desire shuts all your insecurities and you ache to show him every inch of you without any shame.

Soon you’re moaning and writhing on the edge of the tub as his tongue is dancing over your clit before his lips close around it and he gently sucks on the bud, keeping your folds spread with his thick fingers.

You’ve never felt more euphoric in your life and he approvingly hums against your pussy, when you whisper his name again and again, alternating it with whimpers and soft ‘yeah’s’.

“Damn, I can come just from hearing you, honey. What are you doing to me?” He says, looking up at you from between your thighs, eyes glistening. He looks completely pussy-drunk and it must be taking everything from him not to spill his seed into the bath water right now.

You give him a little apologetic smile and he continues pleasuring you. Joel’s caresses are slow and gentle, he’s almost edging you but when you start moving your hips, searching for more friction, he reads your signal immediately.

“Need more, sweetheart?”

You nod eagerly and with his hands on your inner thighs he starts devouring your pussy, his growls full of lust. The flat of his tongue is rubbing against your clit, then the warm muscle plunges into your crying hole as his nose nudges your clit and soon you’re screaming, shaking with the hardest climax of your life.

Joel laps at your juices, generously dripping into his greedy mouth as you’re digging your fingers into his broad shoulders, clenching around his tongue when he slides it inside you.

“Yeah… like that. Oh, my good girl,” Joel mumbles, his words muffled by your pussy.

When your climax dissipates, you rest your head back against the wall and he stays between your legs, peppering kisses on your inner thighs. His palms glide up and down your legs as you’re catching your breath.

When you look down, your eyes well up with tears when you see this big, gorgeous, intelligent, hot man on his knees in front of you. A voice inside your head reminds you that he’s much older, your parents will kill you, you’re fucked. But you push all your fears away when he gently helps you get back in the water and sets you on his lap.

Straddling him, you look into his eyes. You’re feeling a myriad of emotions but the brightest one makes your heart sing - you finally feel like yourself, confident, free, happy.

“Thank you,” you whisper with a smile, grateful for the pleasure but also for the self assurance he gave you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He returns your smile with the warmest grin and pulls you into his embrace before kissing you. His big arms envelop your torso as you melt against his chest.

His cock twitches between your bodies and the fire in your core ignites with a new force.

“I want you inside,” you whisper, nuzzling his neck.

“Oh, darling… I wish for nothing more but … I’m afraid to hurt you.”

You sit up straight and drop your gaze into the water. His cock looks painfully hard and huge and you take a sharp breath, imagining it piercing you.

“I wanna try,” you say with confidence.

He searches for any doubt in your eyes again and then nods. Joel helps you to stand on your knees in the bath, holding you steady with his hand on your hip, the other holding his cock at the base.

“Start slowly and if it hurts… stop any second, ok?”

You agree, positioning yourself right above his waiting cock and begin lowering your hips.

You feel his hot tip bump into your clit and, feeling a burst of pleasure, you grind against it a few times. You both moan at the sensation and Joel tightens his grip on your body.

His handsome face twisted in pleasure might be the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You don’t tear your eyes off him, wishing the image got sealed in your memory forever.

You shift a little, nudge your hole with his fat head and start sinking on his throbbing member.

He’s big. Really big.

You widen your eyes as his length parts your folds and slides inside you, surprisingly easily thanks to your recent orgasm.

Joel leans back against the tub and watches your pussy swallow him in the water, his brows furrowed, half-lidded eyes set on the place where you two are slowly joining.

You lower yourself further as your walls spread, trying to accommodate his member inside you. It hurts a little but you’re so aroused you hardly notice it.

Joel moans when you’re finally flush with him, his cock filling your wet heat perfectly.

“Fuck, ohhh, fuck… I’m sorry for all the cursing, honey, but your pussy feels fucking incredible.”

You smile at the praise and clench around him making him squeeze his eyes shut.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?” he asks with his eyes still closed.

You shake your head, but hastily add ‘no’, realizing he can’t see you.

“I’ve had a boyfriend. But he dumped me pretty quickly.”

He looks at you, brows furrowed, as he hears a slight sadness in your voice.

“His loss, sweetheart,” he says, gently taking your neck between his palms.

His gaze slides down your body to your pussy.

“Hnggg, you’re so tight.”

“Sorry. “

“What? No, it’s .. Gosh, I can’t think straight when you …look like this, wrapped around my cock. I’m in heaven.”

His warm hand rises to your face and he cups your heated cheek. You nuzzle into it smiling against his palm. Then you move your face a little and when you feel his thumb at your lips you part them and take it into your mouth.

His cock throbs deliciously inside you, and he moans as your tongue swirls over his thick finger.

“Oh my god, you naughty thing. You’re going to be the death of me.”

You smile around his finger and roll your hips a little. You both almost scream at the sensation. His thumb slips out of your open mouth as a wave of pleasure rushes through you. You seem to feel his cock everywhere. You can’t stop now, not with the way his thick length massages your pussy on the inside, sending bolts of ecstasy through your body.

You start fucking yourself on his stiff cock and you both fill the room with groans and whimpers, adding them to the soft splashing of the tub water.

He tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut while you feel another climax building.

“Oh, Professor,” you moan and he groans, clenching his teeth,

“Don’t.”

“What?” You ask and bite your lip, seeing that he’s deep in the pits of lust just like you are.

“Because I won’t let you stop calling me that,” he groans and your heart sings at the implication of you two doing it again in the future.

Not giving him any respite you breathe out, “It feels so good, Professor,” and start bouncing on his throbbing cock.

Joel moans but then holds you down.

“Baby, are you on the pill? I can’t… I’m gonna come soon.”

“No,” you reply through panting and he furrows his brows,

“Shit… not sure I have condoms,” he says, his eyes darting between yours. He clears his throat and adds, “I haven’t been with anyone for …some time now.”

You feel like he wants to apologize and you shut him up with a kiss.

“It’s ok. I’ll get Plan B. I want…want it inside me,” you whisper against his lips and sit up, starting to move again. You roll your hips, feeling your clit rub against his soft belly, and whimpers escape your parted lips again and again.

“Fuck, look at you,” he mumbles, watching your body slowly move on him. He’s almost drooling as his palm slides from your neck to your chest, over the swells of your breasts, brushing against your erect nipples, caressing the soft skin of your belly. He dips his hand in the water and presses it to a lump right over your mound and moans,

“Oh, fuck, I can feel my cock right here… do you feel me deep, baby? Tell me.”

“Yes, Professor,”

“Shit, I’m not gonna last, gonna fill you up.”

Looking down, you see it, the bulge in your belly moving up and down, his cock inside you stretching your skin.

With a loud moan, you clench around him and it sends a chain reaction making your pussy vibrate and contract, as another climax starts shaking your body.

“Yeah, baby, just like that… squeeze my fat cock, my good fucking girl.”

Not being able to hold any longer, Joel erupts inside your core, jets of cum spurting against your walls. You feel hot from the water and his heated body and now there’s warmth inside you too, your pussy’s getting filled with him.

You’re fucking yourself on his exploding cock while he’s sucking on your neck, and then he holds you so tight, it gets difficult to breathe. Every cell in your body is screaming with pleasure and you wish this moment never passed, he was inside you forever, holding you close.

When you both feel your climaxes subside, Joel leans back against the wall and pulls you to lie on his chest. You stay like this for a few minutes, plugged by his cock and full of his seed. You breathe in the scent of his skin, your hands on his chest as he rocks you like a big strong wave, slowly breathing in and out. You feel an immense affection towards him, and your throat gets squeezed with upcoming tears. You try to hide them from him but when you sniff he gently cups your cheek and makes you look at him.

“Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” he asks, looking you over with worry in his gaze.

“No, I’m just… I’m just happy. I’m sorry.”

You smile at each other until he takes your face in his big hands and plants kisses on your eyes, cheeks, nose, chin, lips. You giggle when his facial hair tickles your delicate skin and he laughs with you.

Your bodies relaxed, hunger satiated, you stay in the bath for a few more minutes while he’s pouring water with his hands over your shoulders to keep you warm.

When the temperature lowers, he gets out of the tub and brings you a big fluffy towel while you shamelessly watch him move naked and wet around the bathroom. He helps you to get up and you bite your lip when his cock twitches at the sight of your body on display for him. He clears his throat and starts gently drying your skin. The memory takes you back to him drying you in his living room, before you crossed the line with him and you marvel how much changed between now and then.

You feel happy for the first time in a long time but also scared of what happens next. What if he goes back to being just your tutor, what if he doesn’t want to see you at all, what if your parents find out… The thoughts rush through your mind and he reads your face again and asks, “What is it, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, driving away your fears. Joel wraps you in the towel and you gasp when he lifts you. He laughs, carrying you to his bedroom, and then lowers you gently on the bed.

“Get under the duvet, sweetheart.”

You listen to him and get comfortable in his bed. The sheets smell of him and you can’t help but gush again. He brings your clothes and you sit up reaching for them so you could put them on but he stops you.

“Stay here. I’ll go get you the pill,” he says and makes you lie back down. After getting dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, Joel tucks you in and kisses you gently before leaving.

You hear his car drive off and fall into the comfort of his bed. You close your eyes for a second suddenly feeling tired.

You wake up from soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, lips.

“I hate to wake you up, honey, but your parents are worried.”

You sit up rubbing your eyes and holding the duvet over your naked breasts. You see the pill and a glass of water on the nightstand and take it.

“They called?” You ask, swallowing Plan B.

“Yes, I told them you needed to do some extra exercises.”

You giggle but he looks upset. Your fears come back again.

“You regret it,” you whisper, as your eyes well up with tears.

In a second you’re in his big arms and he whispers against your cheek,

“Never, baby. I don’t. But I can’t help but feel guilty. I should know better. I feel like I’m robbing you of your time. You should be someone young, someone who can give you more.”

You search for his eyes and take his face in your hands.

“No, I don’t want anyone else. I want… I need you.”

You kiss him and pull him to lie over you on the bed. You’re making out holding each other close. The rain has stopped and you can hear birds chirping outside through an open window.

“Fuck.. I need to go,” you whine, parting from Joel and reaching for your clothes at the foot of the bed.

“Language, young lady,” he scolds you with a smirk. You bite your lip and purr with a sultry tone, “Sorry, Professor.”

You love how this word makes him shiver with arousal now.

He adjusts himself, cursing under his breath and his dark eyes are watching you while you’re giving him a little show while putting on your clothes - gliding your hands over your body, slowly slipping into your panties and bra. When you slide your arms into your already dry blouse, he gets up to button it up for you. Soon your lips gravitate towards each other and it takes a lot from you to part from him again.

You go downstairs and Joel offers to drive you home but you politely refuse.

“I’ll walk. I love the smell of the air after rain,” you smile ready to leave, standing at the door, “besides someone told me to enjoy myself more so I’m gonna follow his advice.”

You smile at each other and he gives you a farewell kiss, hugging you, before whispering in your ear, “My sweet girl. Thank you.”

You look deeply into his eyes and ask,

“See you on Thursday?”

“Yes, but you’re going to study.” Your widened sad eyes make him chuckle as he adds, “Among other things.”

You beam at him, peck his lips and walk out of the door, feeling wings behind your back.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌺

Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! 💖

Masterlist

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[lunitawrites]

Heavy Rain - a Joel Miller one shot

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

rating: explicit

summary: It´s been raining for weeks when Joel finds you curled up on his couch.

warnings: reader struggles with mental health (please note that this is not based on any scientific diagnosis of a mental illness, it is coming from my experience struggling with my own mental health), crying, smut (PiV), heavy emotions

a/n: This is for @undercoverpena´s April Showers Challenge. You can find the rest of the works under the #UndercoverAprilShowersChallenge tag.

word count: 850

The rain feels heavy on Joel's shoulders as he arrives home that evening. It's not unusual for the Texan spring to be this wet, but this time the rain stretches over weeks, painting the blue spring skies grey, soaking the dusty terrain until it turns into mud under his shoes.

His house is cold, almost feels damp as the walls soak up the never-ending rain. You are lying on his couch, only lit by the fluorescent light of the muted TV, displaying commercials, long forgotten by its audience.

He can hear your quiet sobs from across the room. He knows you noticed him, but you don´t turn, just pull your blanket tighter around your chin. He walks then, slow steps towards you, seemingly afraid that he might startle you if he moves faster.

You are silent now as the back of his knuckles brush on your cheeks. I know, he whispers into the darkness, not even sure if you can hear him.

He goes into the kitchen then, quietly closing the door behind him, when he is sure it won't bother you, he flicks on the lights. Half eaten cereal and a bottle of wine, only missing a glass from the burgundy liquid. Your journal lies open on the dinner table, its pages blank. He closes that first and then slowly and meticulously puts everything in order. He heats up soup from the freezer, puts on a kettle of water to boil.

When the kitchen is in order, he puts the soup and mint tea on a tray and returns to the living room. He places it on the coffee table in front of you. You open your eyes and give him the faintest of your smiles. A smile almost just to mask your lips trying to curl down, your eyes ready to cry. You sit up, the material of the blanket bunching around your waist, revealing the stained t-shirt you are wearing. You seem embarrassed for a moment when you notice and pull the blanket up to your chin again.

He offers you the soup then. He would feed you, but he is sure you would never let him do that. You take the bowl in your hands, lacing your fingers around it, enjoying the warmth radiating from the ceramic.

He leans back besides you, taking your calves and placing them over his lap, his hands drawing slow, mindless circles on your bare skin. Both of you stare at the muted TV in silence, none of you bothered enough to look for the remote to change the volume.

You put the bowl down as you finish and curl up again on the couch, removing your calves from Joel's lap. He can see tears in the corners of your eyes again, threatening to overflow and paint wet stripes on your cheeks. You swipe them away with the heel of your palms and squeeze your eyes shut. You hold your breath to keep yourself from crying.

Joel curls behind you, his whole body hugging yours. Breath, his mouth is on your ear, leaving a small kiss on the shell of your ear. So you do, let the air flow into your lungs. You keep it in for a few seconds and let it out slowly, feeling your tears escape your body the same time the air does.

You take his hand and press it against your chest, squeezing yourself impossibly close to him. The rain is still drip-drip-dripping on the windows, a monotonous sound that you cannot escape. I want it to end, you breathe and you both know you are not referring to the rain.

He buries his face in your hair, breathing you in. You can feel his length hardening against the curve of your ass. He mumbles an apology and adjusts his position so that your bodies are no longer touching.

No, please, you push yourself back again, make love to me. The urge to have him inside you takes over your body. You push your underwear down, kick it off with your legs, and then reach behind to remove his jeans too. You hear his quiet hey, baby, stop; but your only answer is the squeaky pleas that are falling from your lips, landing straight at the bottom of his spine.

He takes his cock out, fully hard now, propping it to your entrance and entering you with one swift motion. You moan in unison at the feeling, his hands holding you close, splayed out on your stomach.

He fucks you then, no rush in his movements, peppering small kisses to the back of your neck, your shoulders. He mewls quietly in your ear every time he fills you up. He does not stop until your body tenses around him, pleasure ripping through your tired body. When he comes, it is with a soft groan buried in your neck.

At least now I have something in me that I love, you whisper. The rain has stopped now, the only dripping sounds are his tears landing on the bare skin of your chest.

--

Thank you so much for reading!

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader x tess servopoulos

genre: smut, modern au, minors dni

word count: 2k

summary: you're new to town and tess invites you to go camping with her and joel.

warnings: fmf, threesome, flf dynamics, reader being eaten out for the first time, dirty talk, oral s.ex, cum eating/play, for the sake of this fic let's just imagine they have a very big tent they can actually stand in lmaodfb, things escalate quickly but honestly I just wanted to write some good old smut

a/n: this wasn't originally intended for the amazing @undercoverpena's april showers challenge BUT since I had already written the rain aspect of the fic I thought it would be nice to post this for it 💜

prompt: both/all parties get caught in the rain. 

**dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜

Breathing is hard. Walking is hard. Carrying the weight of your backpack is hard. 

But, the fresh air, the white clouds above, and the two people you’re with make up for it. 

Stopping briefly, you roll your shoulders and stretch, neither of them notice you. Not really. You figure it’s not really important if they do or don’t, it’s not like they’re that much ahead of you, catching up wouldn’t be difficult. You watch them, you must admit, a bit dreamily as they walk the bath they’re clearly so used to walking. You’re still surprised that the seasoned hikers invited you to a camping trip. Tess was the one to approach, she knew you were new and how overwhelming it’s been getting used to the people and the sights. She told you she and Joel would be going on a trip soon and that you should join. And even though your answer had been an eager yes, you were worried about holding them back. Admittedly, you weren’t the most fit and haven’t hiked anywhere in years. 

However, your excitement to spend time with not one but both of them had tipped the scale rather harshly. You’ve been harboring a secret crush on both of them, it was hard not to when both of them were charming and witty.

Now, as you walk behind them, you can't help but steal glances at the way Tess effortlessly navigates the trail, her hair swaying with each step. Joel walks beside her, occasionally pointing out interesting plants or landmarks, his backpack seeming almost weightless on his shoulders.

You catch yourself smiling as you imagine what adventures lie ahead on this trip.

You decide to pick up your pace, closing the gap between you and them. As you draw nearer, Tess glances back, her eyes brightening with a genuine smile as she sees you catching up.

"How's the hike treating you?"

You catch your breath and reply, "It's challenging, but I'm enjoying every moment of it."

Joel turns around with a friendly grin. "Glad to hear that. We've got a great spot picked out for camping tonight."

As the three of you continue forward, you feel a surge of excitement. Your legs might be aching, but you can't wait to see where the day takes you all.

Rain. 

At first, you thought you were unlucky. You had dreamed of campfire, smores and snuggling underneath the starlight, but with the first lightning strike and drop of water, you thought the two would be agitated, annoyed by the bad weather. 

But to your surprise, as the rain began to fall in earnest after setting the tent, Tess and Joel didn't seem bothered at all. In fact, they laughed and exchanged playful looks as they turned their heads up to the sky. Their infectious joy caught you off guard, and despite the downpour, you found yourself smiling too.

Then, unexpectedly, Joel's arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. A rush of warmth floods through you as his lips brush against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, Tess leans in, her lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. The moment is electrifying, filled with a blend of desire and affection.

Before you know it, Tess and Joel are gently guiding you towards the tent they had set up earlier. The rain continues to pour around you, but inside the cozy confines of the tent, a different kind of heat ignites. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Joel cups both your breasts tenderly from underneath, the wet fabric dampening his skin. You feel Tess’s eyes on your back, observing, taking in the details of the scene before her. Meanwhile, Joel’s gaze is glued to your pebbled nipples, he slowly drags his thumbs over them, your breath catching in your throat. “Does that feel good?” 

“It does,” your eyelids flutter, he repeats the movement, drawing circles this time. His eyes flicker up to meet yours. 

“So fucked out already,” he hums. “Our pretty little girl, so shy and hungry.” 

Tess stands from where she is sitting and circles her arms around your waist, fingers digging into your stomach, she pulls you flush against her. Your stomach bottoms out as you feel the plump flesh of her breasts against your back. Your lips part, you want to kiss her. 

You want to kiss her. 

You turn your head, chasing her lips with yours, before your eyes close, you see the mischievous curl of her lips. She pulls away and smiles even wider when you whine. “You’re so easy to tease.” 

Opening your eyes, you swallow, your body arches when Joel sneaks both hands under your shirt, lifting the fabric, goosebumps raise all over your skin. “Is that a bad thing?” you ask her, voice slightly shaking. 

“Not at all princess,” she drags her lips down your neck. “It just makes it even more amusing.” 

Your reply gets stuck in your throat as Joel dips down and sucks one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. He tightly closes his lips around the nub and flicks it with his tongue. Your body jolts, pleasure running through you like the lighting outside. Your head falls over Tess’s shoulder, she lays open-mouthed kisses over your neck, her hands unbuttoning your pants. 

“You want him to eat you out?” she breathes into your skin and without looking at either of them you nod. “Have you ever had your pussy eaten out, princess?” 

You lick your lips, “No,” you say half ashamed, and swallow. “This’ll be my first time.” 

Joel’s tongue stills on your skin and suddenly two hungry eyes come into your view. If you didn’t know better you’d say he looks pissed off. Never breaking eye contact, he continues what Tess started and pushes down your pants along with your underwear, leaving you bare to the chill of the tent. He pushes two fingers between your folds and starts stroking you, you shudder against both of them, and your breath hitches. 

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he says. “Beg me for it.” 

“Please.” 

He chuckles darkly, “Oh sweetheart, I ain’t gettin’ on my knees for that. Do better.” 

You let out a small gasp as he grips your chin, squeezing lightly. To provide comfort, Tess kisses the back of your neck, however, you can feel her smiling into your skin. 

“Please,” you say again. “I want you to make me come, Joel. I want to feel your tongue—I want you to be my first—” 

Your lips part for another incoming beg but he’s already sinking to his knees, large hands sliding up and down the back of your thighs. A shudder rolls up your spine. Tess’s hands replace Joel’s, kneading your breasts softly. 

His hands finally come between your thighs, gently nudging them so you open wider. You see a flicker of a smile when you do, amused, he drags two fingers between your folds. “You’re soaked, sweetheart.” 

“She’s not the only one,” Tess chuckles. “Now get on with it, Miller. I’m impatient.” 

He clicks his tongue without retaliating further. You feel the warmth of his breath on your core, and slowly, he presses his lips over your mound, the scratch of his beard making it an exquisite experience. You moan at the touch of his tongue, it moves slowly, circling your clit and going deeper. His nails bite into your skin, the sounds he makes between your legs are downright sinful. Your legs begin to shake. 

“Shh it’s okay,” Tess whispers against your cheek. “Just give him a taste and we’ll lay you down, princess. I know you can do it.” 

Joel grunts in approval, the timber of the sound making you whimper. His hands slide up to your ass and he squeezes the mounds roughly, pushing you further against his mouth. He licks and sucks, when you feel the bite of his nails against your skin, you finally come undone. 

Your knees threaten to give out under you, the only thing holding you upright being the two stunning people consuming you. Tess smiles against your skin, kissing and licking the salt of your skin. Meanwhile, Joel moans rather loudly, licking everything you have to offer as you come, come and come some more. You’ve never felt anything this intense before. The air is knocked from your lungs, your body ice cold yet burning up at the same time. 

You’re vaguely aware of Joel standing, the man who was worshipping you between your legs suddenly towering over you. He has a small smile as he leans in, you think he’s going to kiss the slope of your shoulder first but then you hear the soft sounds of two lips coming together. With the corner of your eyes, you see them. Tess and Joel kissing, their tongues sliding into each other's mouth, sharing your taste—

“Fuck,” you whisper, your cunt throbbing. They both smile, lips curving in an almost malicious way. As they break apart, Tess licks Joel’s lips, her eyes find yours. 

“Someone’s still hungry for more,” she teases, slowly stripping. “Get on all fours for us, princess.” 

You swallow and do as she says. You feel Joel’s large hands cup the mounds of your ass, squeezing tenderly. “Beautiful,” he rasps. “Such a goddamn sight.” 

Your back arches into his touch. He drags two thick fingers between your folds as Tess lays down, spreading her legs. Your eyes immediately drop to her center, the soft hair that crowns her pretty pussy. You see her glisten with want and your mouth waters. 

“Don’t be shy now,” she smiles. “Have a taste.” 

Her fingers curl around the back of your neck and at the same time, you feel the head of Joel’s cock stretching you wide. Your eyes roll as you part your lips, Tess moans loudly when your tongue swirls around her puffy clit. You can’t think straight. Joel buries himself deep holding himself there for a second before pulling back and slamming forward. Your moan into Tess’s cunt, your lips parting away briefly every he pulls himself back. 

“Best cunt I’ve ever had,” he grunts through clenched teeth. “How does it feel sweetheart? You enjoyin’ yourself?” 

You flatten your tongue against Tess’s folds and moan, your body clenching. 

“She is,” Tess answers on your behalf, breathless. “Such a sweet girl letting us use her like this.” 

Your eyes close tightly shut, sweat drips down your spine, your body a vessel of pleasure. Every muscle in your body tightens, and you hear both of them groan. You close your lips around Tess’s clit and flick your tongue, her head falls, gushing into your mouth. Joel’s watches intently, his cock pulsing and throbbing, his hand comes against the back of your head and he pushes you further down. 

“Good girl,” he growls, the pace of his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Fuck, that’s it, lick her clean.” 

Tess moans again, the loud sounds becoming whimpers. You can barely breathe but you don’t care. With one final thrusts you come undone around Joel’s cock, your body squeezing him like a vice. 

When the violent shudders of your body become gentle waves, Joel pulls out. Your head falls limply against Tess’s stomach, her hand gently rubbing your neck. A soft gasp leaves you when you see Joel shuffling closer, his cock still hard and glistening. You watch as he strokes himself only mere inches away from your face, the head of his cock an angry shade of red. 

You stick out your tongue as he spills himself over your face and Tess’s stomach. Another pulse of pleasure spreads throughout your body. Tess let’s out a deep sigh, gathering some of the come with her fingers, she pushes them between your lips. 

“Fuck,” Joel sighs, sitting back on his heels. A small smile forms against your lips as you suck on Tess’s fingers, when she pulls them out, you dip your tongue into the mess over her stomach and swallow every drop. 

“Filthy girl,” Tess muses. “And here I’ve been callin’ you princess.” 

“Your fault,” you mumble, looking away, your cheeks burn. 

Joel leans in, capturing your lips before whispering. 

“Don’t pout. You’ll always be our princess.” 

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Rain Confessions

Summary: A dance in the rain at Jackson's last day of the summer celebration leads to you and Joel finding out something surprising about the both of you after you sneaked off to have some alone time.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Rating: E

Wordcount: 3.5k

Warnings: falling in love, a whole lot of backstory nobody asked for, implied past SA, age gap (around 15-20 years), fluff, baby fever, smut (semi public sex, unprotected sex) accidental breeding kink (?), pregnancy surprise at the end

A/N: This is my entry for @undercoverpena April showers challenge! I had so many ideas for this challenge, but this is it (for now lol)

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If you had learned anything about the community of Jackson since arriving here almost two years ago, it was that the people would always find a reason to have a town celebration. 

It was foreign to you at first, celebrating the first summer harvest a week after you arrived. Seeing everyone in the middle of town, celebrating while music was played by some towns people on their instruments. Children playing with wide smiles, safe from all the horrors that laid behind the walls of this tiny town. So much food everyone wouldn’t have to cook for days. 

Dancing. 

Happy people. 

You had a full blown panic attack the first time you had attended a town celebration, overwhelmed from how… normal everything seemed now. Almost like it had been before the outbreak happened. 

You only had little memory of how it was before. You had just turned 20, moved to another state, far away from all of your family for a job you were excited for, but would never get to work in. 

You had been shot on outbreak day, waking up almost a month later in a make shift hospital in what would later become the Dallas QZ. You remembered being told how lucky you were that an officer had brought you in in all that chaos. There would be many times after you had healed and been released, that you asked yourself if you really had been that lucky. The question about why you survived, being a constant thought inside your head. 

Whatever had happened to you had fucked with your memory, leaving you with big gaps about your life before you woke up in the hospital. 

You had stayed in Dallas until the QZ fell, leaving with a group of what you thought back then were friends. You had worked with those people, those men, for many years at the QZ. They had never given any indication about not being decent people. You trusted them.

Trust that you clearly had misplaced. 

You would learn in the following years that they had only taken you with them so they had something to offer to whomever could help them survive. 

It would take years for you to finally escape from them, kill all of them, leaving you with nothing but the clothes on your body stumbling through the deserted lands of what you would learn was Wyoming until a group of people found you. 

You had asked them to kill you, tired of life. 

But they had taken you in. Maria saw something in you that day. 

You became a part of Jackson. Working in the greenhouse every day because as it turned out, you had a green thump.

Yet you were still keeping to yourself. 

The years of abuse you had endured, did not make it easy to trust new people. You only had little friends. Lauren, who worked with you at the greenhouse, and Tommy who made it close to impossible not to be friends with. Maria who became like a big sister to you. 

You weren’t looking to meet more people, let alone find something more than just friendship until Joel Miller stepped into your life. 

You had been pared with him on your monthly patrol, something every citizen of Jackson had been tasked at least once per month, not even knowing he had joined the community, or knowing that he was Tommy’s brother.

He was quiet, reserved, cold, but only to the people who were to scared to look past the facade he put on. 

It was like you could see right through him, the way he was masking the pain he carried with him all day. Maybe because you had been doing the same thing. 

The first patrol you went on together left you drenched to your bones, surprised by rainfall, making you sick for a whole week after with Joel being the only one who would check on you. 

Something you didn’t understand at that time, because you did not know the man. 

You still weren’t sure who made the first move of spending some more time together. It seemed to just… happen. Eating together at the Tipsy Bison after he came back from his job at Patrol. Him visiting you in the greenhouse when he found himself lonely, telling you about his complicated relationship with Ellie at the moment. 

You spending time at his place to teach Ellie how to bake, because she had been nagging you for weeks to do so. 

He never pushed, always listened to whatever you had to say, both of you opening up to each other about what you had went through before getting to Jackson. 

He had held you after you talked about the years you had been in captivity, vowing to never let anyone ever lay a hand on you. 

It was after the first baking lesson, Ellie long gone to bed, that you found yourself in Joel’s arms for the first time, his body on top of yours, his cock filling you slowly, while he whispered words of praise against your ear. 

Yet it would take another couple of months for the two of you to admit that you had feelings for one another, oblivious to what everyone around you saw with their eyes closed. 

There hadn’t been some grand gesture like in the movies. 

It had been a normal night where you felt a little restless and decided to walk towards the stables to wait for Joel to come back from patrol. The way his face lit up when he saw you as he rode through the gates, taking you by surprise even though your face was a mirror image of his. He had wrapped his arms around you and whispered how much he missed you before he kissed you softly, the world around you disappearing when he admitted to you that he’s been in love with you for a while now. 

You had moved into his house the week after.

And now you were in your shared bedroom, getting into clean clothes while Joel sat on the bed, looking at you with warm eyes. 

„We could just stay in? Have some time for ourselves while everyone is busy celebrating the last day of summer?“ He asked and you smiled softly, putting your pants on, while his eyes continued to undress you. 

„And do what?“ You asked. 

„I can think of a thing or two. I’d start with getting you out of this jeans again,“ he winked and you smiled shyly at the way he looked at you. 

You hope he would forever look at you like that. 

„You know your brother would come looking for us. We promised we would be there. And Ellie asked you to come too,“ you reminded him and he sighed. 

Things between him and Ellie were still hard, but she was slowly coming around. There would be a small art installation from the school at the town square and Ellie had drawn a couple of paintings she was excited to show off. 

Joel got up from the bed and walked over to you, his hands coming to rest on your hips. 

„You gonna let me dance with you?“ He asked and you sighed, pulling your arms up and crossing your hands behind his neck, looking up at him. He was smiling softly at you and you were pretty sure you would never be able to love another person like you loved Joel Miller.

„Always,“ you smiled before you got on your tiptoes to kiss him softly. 

You were watching Joel and Ellie from afar, both of them standing in front of a painting she did from a landscape across town square that was currently filled with people. Ellie had told you that it was the mountain view she had woken up to for an entire week while she was sick on the road, Joel taking care of her until she felt better to continue their travels on their way to find Tommy here in Jackson. 

Joel was visibly struggling to keep the tears at bay as you saw Ellie explain it to him before they hesitantly hugged each other. 

You were sitting under one of the tents that had been put up earlier today, the sky not looking like it would be dry outside much longer. Yet it was warm enough to only wear a T-shirt.

„You think they gonna be okay?“ Tommy asked, sitting down next to you, little Elijah in his arms. Maria had given birth not too long ago to a mini version of Tommy much to her delight. She waved at you from next to the grill, and you waved back before you reached your hand out to Elijah who took your finger with a squeal. 

„I think so. She’s beginning to understand why he did what he did. And he’s understanding why she’s so upset. They miss each other,“ you said and Tommy nodded. 

„I would have done the same if it was my kid,“ Tommy said and you nodded. 

„Yeah. Me too,“ you smiled at Elijah who now was trying to suck on your finger, making you chuckle. 

„Are your parents not feeding you enough, little man?“ You said with a grin. 

Without answering he proceeded to pull your finger in his mouth, making you giggle. 

„Maria just fed him twenty minutes ago. He’s just ravenous,“ Tommy rolled his eyes.

He turned his head when he heard Maria call for him. 

„Can you take him for a moment? My wife calls,“ he asked. With a smile you nodded, opening your arms for the little boy to be placed against your chest, kissing his forehead while he still sucked on your finger. 

„Aren’t you just the cutest little thing?“ You hummed with a small smile as he snuggled against you. When you looked up you found Joel’s eyes locked on you from across the little square and you felt your cheeks warming at the look he was giving you. 

In the past couple of weeks you had the recurring dream about having a baby on your own, a mini version of Joel. You dreamed of watching him with a tiny baby on his chest. You dreamed of your own little family. 

Elijah used this moment to nibble on your knuckles, making your eyes widen before you looked down at the little guy again. 

„You really are hungry huh?“ You laughed.

„He’s teething,“ Maria said, smiling down at you with a plate of food in her hands, Tommy following behind her.

„You gonna eat some spare rips next summer, huh?“ You teased, tickling the babies side, making him giggle. 

„He sure will be,“ Tommy said proudly, before he took Elijah back. 

Music started to play from the band that had formed earlier this year from the town and you could see Tommy smirk. 

„I think you had an admirer,“ he winked before you turned around and found Joel walking towards you. When he was close he held one hand out which you took. 

„You promised me a dance,“ he said and you couldn’t help but smile. 

„I did, didn’t I?“ You said before you let him guide you towards the middle of the square were people had already gathered to dance. 

The band was playing a song you did not recognise. It was a slow song for a change, Joel and you having danced to two songs before laughing loudly at the way you just could not manage to not stumble over your own feet. 

But now you were in his arms, your cheek against his chest as he slowly swayed you to the beat, his lips against the top of your head while he murmured the words to the song. 

You took a deep breath of his familiar earthy scent that always felt like coming home. 

It was then that you felt the first drops of rain. Feeling his arms tighten around you he cursed quietly as it began to rain, the sky opening up, drenching you within seconds, your clothes clinging to your body. 

The normal reaction would be to seek shelter from the rain, just like the people around you who quickly ran towards the tents that had been put up. 

But you looked up at Joel who was already looking at you, his hair clinging to his face, drops of water falling from his nose down on you.

The band was still playing, the song changing to a distinct version of Purple Rain, making the people who were now in the tents laugh, but you just smiled, letting Joel twirl you on the improvised dance floor before you came to rest against his chest again, both of you laughing. 

You danced for a couple more minutes, before he kissed you deeply, holding you close against him.

„Get a room!“ You heard Tommy yell and you smiled against Joel’s lips, before you took his hand and led him away from the town square.

He had you crowded against the wall outside of the greenhouse as soon as you rounded the building, his lips on yours, his hands rounding your face. 

The greenhouse was closer, your house being on the other side of town. 

It was still raining, the both of you under the small and apparently leaking roof that was above the outside work station, just out of view from the building. You could still hear the people down the street celebrating when he picked you up to sit you down on the work table, your legs parting so he could step between them. 

„We should get out of these clothes,“ you mumbled against his lips, your fingers working on opening his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. He sucked your bottom lip between his. 

„We should,“ he agreed, before he pulled your shirt over your head, growling softly before his head lowered between your tits, pushing your bra down, sucking your nipple into his mouth. 

„Shit….“ You moaned, your hands pushing into his hair, your eyes dropping close. 

There was a tiny part of you, that knew it would be a better idea to get back home and out of these clothes, but you wanted Joel so badly, right now. 

„Love these perfect tits,“ he hummed, playfully biting into the soft skin above your left breast. 

„Joel please… Just….“ You pulled his head up so he was looking at you, your eyes wide and needy. 

„You want me to fuck you? Right here? Again?“ He asked and you nodded, memories of all the times he had you right here while the people were working inside, filling your mind, a shudder running down your spine. 

„Sure is gonna be fun to get you out of these drenched jeans,“ he joked and you chuckled before you jumped from the table.

It was a little struggle, the wet denim clinging to your legs like a second skin, but after a little bit of Joel’s help, you had them down to your ankles and Joel kissed you softly. 

„Turn around,“ he hummed and you did, your hands on the edge of the table while you heard Joel’s belt unbuckle, followed from an annoyed huff that let you turn your head over your shoulder to find him too struggling to get his jeans off, making you smile to yourself until you saw him free his cock, his pants just so pushed down to get it out. 

He looked at you with a bashful smile, before he took a step closer, his big hands moving over your ass. 

„Gotta make this quick so I can get you home and out of those clothes,“ he said, before he wrapped one hand around his cock and lined himself up. 

„This okay?“ He asked. He always did, every single time, needing to hear you consent after you told him about how you had been treated in the past. 

„Yes,“ you nodded and he winked at you before slowly sinking into you, inch after inch of his cock filling you, stretching you, until he was nestled deep inside of you, his hips flush against your ass. 

You turned your head back forward, letting it fall down, your eyes closing. 

„Baby…“ he sighed, letting his head fall against your back. He kissed your spine before he began to move, finding a slow rhythm that had you positively losing your mind. 

The rain was still falling hard, dripping down Joel’s back as he fucked into you.

„Need it harder,“ you whined, finding your back pushed against his chest the next moment, one of his hands across your chest, holding one of your tits as his thrusts got deeper. Faster. Harder. 

You brought your hands up, both holding Joel’s arm that was across your chest as he fucked into you. 

His lips found your neck, licking up the rain that was still dripping down your body and you whimpered. 

He took a couple of steps back, pulling you with him until you were back outside in the rain, the warm drops hitting your flushed skin. You leaned your head back against Joel’s shoulder, your eyes opening to find the sun coming out just when Joel’s other hand slipped down between your legs, his hands covering your pussy, his fingers parted to feel how his cock entered you before he moved it in slow circles, stimulating your clit. 

It was too much. 

The rain, his cock fucking you, his hands all over you, his mouth sucking softly at your neck, in the middle of the garden you were working in every single day. 

You came with a soft cry of his name, clenching around his cock, struggling to keep yourself on your feet as he continued to fuck into you. 

„Good girl,“ he hummed against your ear, his hand on your breast tightening, groping, and you gasped. 

„Wish you could cum inside me,“ you hummed and he cursed. 

„Wish I could….“ You stopped yourself, not wanting him to know your deepest secret. Not before you had an actual talk about it. 

„Wish you could what?“ He asked, his thrusts getting slower. He turned your head so you were looking at him and you were sucking your bottom lip in. 

„Wish I could have your baby,“ you whispered, whimpering when you felt him twitch inside of you immediately, his eyes darkening. 

„You want that?“ He asked and you nodded. 

„Fuck,“ he groaned, beginning to fuck you again, somehow ever harder than before, both of his hands now on your tits as he pumped into you. 

„You wanna have my baby?“ He asked. 

„Want me to fuck you so full of me, until it takes?“ He grunted and you moaned. 

„God yes. Yes please Joel. Fuck a baby into me,“ you whimpered and he groaned, his thrusts getting sloppier and you could feel him pulse inside of you before he pulled out, coming against your thigh, his head falling against your shoulder. 

You were both panting, trying to fill your lungs with air while the rain around you seemed to finally slow down. 

Suddenly nervous about what you said you were trying to form an excuse about it, when Joel spoke up. 

„You really meant that?“ He asked, his voice soft. 

Gulping you turned around in his arms, avoiding his eyes until he tilted your head up to him, so you had to look at him. 

„I don’t… I guess I do? I… At first I thought it was just the fantasy about it, but the longer I thought about it….“ You mumbled. 

„How long have you been thinking about it, sweetheart?“ He asked softly. 

„Since I moved in?“ You said and he huffed before he shook his head with a soft smile on his lips. 

„How about we get home and out of these wet clothes and talk about it?“ He asked.

Slowly you nodded and he kissed you, before he helped you get dressed, which was almost more complicated than getting out of the wet clothes before. 

The rain had almost completely stopped as you made your way towards your shared house, Joel holding your hand, stealing glances at you as you looked towards the ground. 

He would be lying if he said he hasn’t been thinking about it. 

And yeah, maybe it was reckless, he wasn’t the youngest anymore. This world was not the best place to bring new life into. 

And maybe it wouldn’t even work, having a baby.

But as he looked at you, with your shy smile on your lips, he knew he would give you everything you wanted to make you happy. 

Both of you not knowing that that one time almost two months ago when you were out for patrol together and he had fucked you against a tree, the second he had pulled out to late was enough to already have you pregnant. 

But you would found that out a month later. 

[milla-frenchy]

911

1k4 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Summary: you and Joel go out on a rainy night. His protective side turns you on Warnings: 18+ mdni. teasing, footplay, dirty talk, rough sex, piv, oral (m). Light violence (not towards reader). Reader’s hair can be pulled.  No age specified, no outbreak a/n: couple from the 5 days collection. Can be read alone. This is for the April showers challenge by @undercoverpena Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta reading 💕

Series masterlist | Masterlist

***********

You and Joel were having dinner at a restaurant. Night had already fallen, and the rain was painting the city streets in darker shades. While waiting for dessert, you breathed out on the window and drew a heart. You smiled shyly, and Joel thought you were the sweetest woman he had ever met. When you slid your shoeless foot from his calf to his crotch, he thought that you were also the sexiest woman he had ever met.

“We haven’t tested this bathroom yet, Joel,” you said, gently stroking your lip with your index finger. Your shy smile was forgotten, giving way to another kind of smile. Without taking his eyes off you, he grabbed your foot and pressed it against his shaft.

“Nah. Wanna make you scream on my cock tonight. I can’t give it to you good here, baby. Wanna do it right.”

Your pussy clenched, and you tried to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the pressure between them. But he didn’t release your foot, smirking as he saw you grimace in your chair.

The waiter set down your desserts, cutting off the conversation momentarily. You brought the spoon to your mouth, keeping it in longer than necessary.

“Mmm…that’s the best flavor I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

He looked at you, his narrowed eyes glinting.

“Is that right?”

His eyes moved down from yours to your lips, and he pressed your foot tighter against his cock. He grabbed his glass with his free hand and took a sip. It looked tiny between his fingers. And you couldn't help but think about moments when he would push them into your pussy and make you come on them. You tried to calm down as his grin widened. Of course he knew exactly what you were thinking about. You cleared your throat and asked: “are you jealous of a spoon, Mr. Miller?”

“I think I could be jealous of just about anything that comes near you, sweetheart.”

You smiled and took another spoonful.

You walked out of the restaurant and headed towards the parking lot. Joel had his arm around your shoulder, yours was around his waist. The rain started to fall again and you took shelter under a porch of one of the buildings. Joel hugged you and kissed you, his big hands squeezing your ass under your dress. You whined, eager to finally be home and feel his naked body against yours. Two men approached, and one of them said, “nice ass, wanna share?” Joel turned towards them, fists clenched.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

He stood in front of you, interposing himself between you and them. They were young. Early twenties.

“I said," Nice ass, wanna share?”. Are you deaf, man?”

Neither he nor you had time to anticipate what happened next. When Joel punched him, you heard a bone crack and the man knelt on the ground. The one who accompanied him approached, hesitantly.

“Get the fuck outta here, kid. Or I ain’t gonna break just this asshole’s nose.”

The guy looked at his friend and ran away. Joel glanced down at the kneeling man, then back at you. Tilting his chin towards you, asking silently if you were ok. You nodded. Joel looked around, and saw a piece of wood on the ground. He grabbed it, before approaching the young man. He held out his hands and shouted “I’m leaving, I’m leaving!” I'm sorry!!" before getting up and running away too.

Joel dropped the piece of wood and moved closer to you, covered your cheeks with his hands, and asked “are you ok, sweetheart?”

“I…fuck, yeah. I think so. What the fuck is wrong with these guys?!”

He took your hand, and said “yeah, I know baby, but it’s ok now. Come on, we can’t stay here.”

You ran to another street under the heavy rain, and Joel didn't keep his eyes off the surroundings. Finally you arrived at the underground tunnel and stopped at the stairs. You were soaked by the rain.

“Okay, let’s wait here until the rain calms down a bit”, he said.

He held you close, and you couldn’t stop thinking about how he protected you, his cool control of the situation, as if he had never doubted his superiority over them. You kissed him, your tongue sliding between his lips. You pressed yourself against him, and slipped your hand between your two bodies and put it on his crotch.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked, his piercing gaze searching for yours. You looked up at him and your stare left no doubt about what you desired.

“Fuck…Did that turn you on?”

You nodded, stroking his cock through his jeans. He was already hard.

“Claim me”, you said.

“What? Claim…here?”

“Yeah, fuck me here. Now. I need it.”

He held your chin between his fingers, trying to read you again. Searching for an ounce of hesitation. But there wasn't any. You slipped your hand into your panties and collected your slick on your fingers before showing him your hand. He took your hand in his and licked your fingers. He groaned. “Shit, ok. ‘m gonna fuck you here, if you want it that bad.” 

He turned you around, pinning you against the cold wall of the tunnel. His fingers eagerly unzipped his jeans before releasing his hard cock. He grabbed your hips, pulling them towards him. He pulled up your dress and pushed your panties to the side, before sliding his fingers along your soaked slit. He hissed through his teeth.

“You’re the filthiest girl I’ve ever known.”

He grabbed his cock in his hand and barely slid it between your folds. You held your breath, ready to feel his cock sink into your core. You wanted him to own you. He bottomed out in one go, and your cheek rubbed against the stone.

“Fuckin’...tight,” he grunted. “That’s what you want? Being railed in a tunnel at night?”

“Yes, fuck….”

“I'm sure you'd like someone to catch us here. So that some guy could see you, hear you moan while you're getting fucked. Let him see that you’re fuckin’ mine.”

He grabbed your hair in his tight fist, and started fucking you hard, grunting every time he thrust.

“Answer me.”

“Yeah, you know I’d love that.” His hand released your hair and it slid down along your breasts, down to your panties.

“Yeah...You’re gonna come on it, now. Wanna feel this pussy clenching me.”

His finger rolled over your clit, as his cock kept pounding you.

“Damn, been hard since the restaurant and the show you gave me there. Fuck.”

He fucked you fast and hard, not letting his fingers leave your clit even for a second. His cock was brushing your g-spot continuously, and you felt your orgasm building. This mixture of pleasure and pain, his cock brutally parting your folds every time he thrust in, his fingers on you. He knew for a long time how to make you cum in a few minutes. When you clenched his cock, your moans echoed in the tunnel. 

You pulled away from him and got down on your knees, your dress falling down your thighs.

“Claim me,” you said again, your eyes raised to him.

“Fuck,” he said, quickly jerking his entire length in front of your face. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, waiting. Your eyes were fixed on each other.

“Shit…gonna paint your face.”

He grunted when the first spurts of cum hit your lips, tongue and chin, and he placed his tip on your tongue for the next two spurts. Your eyes were still fixed on him.

He thrust into your mouth, and you felt him twitch again, until he emptied his balls completely. He rested his hand against the wall so as not to lose his balance as you sucked his cock, swallowing his hot load.

“Fuck, baby….” he was trying to catch his breath, while you were keeping his throbbing cock in the warmth of your mouth.

Finally, he grabbed your elbow, helped you up and kissed you, tasting himself on your tongue. You heard the sirens of an ambulance in the distance. He tucked his cock in his pants, took your hand, and you two walked towards the parking lot.

“Told you I wanna make you scream on my cock, tonight. Come on, I’m not done with ya.”

***************

Same couple : 5 days collection

***************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

[flightlessangelwings]

Drowning in You

Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Word count-2.5k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), exes to lovers, alcohol, pining, feelings, f receiving oral (all hail Frankie the pussy eating king!), overstim, sexytimes in a car, reader is able bodied but otherwise not described other than body parts, no use of y/n

Prompts- Both/all parties get caught in the rain. / "Kiss me in the rain. Please?"

Notes- Written for @undercoverpena April Showers Challenge! Getting this in on literally the last day of the month too lol! But I had fun with this one so I hope y'all enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

Moodboard made by me

~

You never expected to see him here. Especially after all these years. You had broken up with Frankie so long ago… or had he broken up with you? Honestly it had been so long that you couldn’t even remember. Were you upset about one of his deployments? Was he upset that you worked too much? Was it something so inconsequential that you drew a blank? At this point, it didn’t even matter anymore.

As you stared at Francisco Morales- Frankie- from across the bar, all your old emotions bubbled up to the surface. He had more lines on his face than the last time you saw him, but it only made him more handsome. He still wore that same ratted baseball cap, but his hair looked a little longer as brown wavy locks poked out from under it. And his smile… even from far away you saw how his smile lit up his face. It made your heart flutter in your chest like you were a lovestruck school girl all over again. 

But time felt like it stopped when you and Frankie locked eyes from opposite sides of the room. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the temperature rise around you. All movement that surrounded you felt like it was in slow motion as you and Frankie just stared at each other, both as dumbfounded and surprised as the other. 

You hadn’t changed a bit. No, you were even more beautiful than the last time Frankie saw you. And the way your lips parted as you wore a stunned look across your face only brought up all the feelings he fought so hard to bury. The truth was not a day went by that Frankie didn’t think of you. So many times he picked up the phone to dial your number only to hang up before he could hit the call button. He couldn’t even remember why the two of you broke up, but he knew that letting you go was the biggest mistake of his life.

And he wasn’t about to let that happen again.

“Hi,” Frankie tried to sound smooth as he approached you, “You look…” he cleared his throat as he messed with his hat, “You look… Wow,” he breathed as a crooked smile lit up his face.

“Wow yourself,” you shimmied your shoulders subtly as chills ran up your spine from hearing his voice again. You fiddled with your fingers for a moment as nerves overtook you, “It’s good to see you, Frankie,” you said, “How have you been?”

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets, “You?”

“Same old,” you sounded playfully dismissive, as if neither of you cared about the past. All that mattered was the present, and maybe the future. “How are the guys?” you asked.

“Nothing’s changed.” It was a lie; so much had changed since the last time Frankie spoke to you. But now wasn’t the time for that. 

“That’s good,” you grinned. Shifting your weight from side to side, you felt like there was so much in the air between you two that needed to be let out. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to voice any of it. The tension was palpable, and even the strangers in the room could notice.

There was so much Frankie wanted to say, and yet none of it felt relevant. What could he possibly say to you after all these years? His chest felt tight and he felt like his throat was dry as he tried to swallow. And he was sure it got warmer in here since he came over to talk to you.

Frankie finally settled on, “Can I get you a drink?” 

Your eyes lit up and it made his heart pound in his chest, “Yes,” you breathed.

It was as if no time passed at all as you and Frankie shared drink after drink together. In an instant, you remembered what made you fall in love with him, and Frankie felt the same way about you. Both of you lost yourselves in each other as you talked and caught each other up on where you were in your lives.

“Hey, I bet I could still kick your ass at pool,” you shimmied your shoulders playfully as you motioned over to the empty pool table.

Frankie took a big swig of his drink and smiled widely, “You’re on!”

Heat built up between your bodies as you took turns shooting the balls into the net on the table. Every time Frankie came close to you, you felt your skin warm and tingle. And especially when he leaned so close against you that you thought he was going to kiss you. For a brief moment, you almost gave in as you unconsciously leaned in and glanced down at his lips as he teased you for missing a shot.

But, before you could make a move… 

“Alright love birds, last call,” the bartender interrupted you and Frankie, “It’s closing time.”

“Oh shit,” you laughed as you took a step back, “I didn’t even realize it got so late!”

“Me either,” Frankie’s eyes never left your figure as you put the pool sticks away. He flagged down the bartender and paid for both of your tabs before he returned to you, “Can I walk you to your car?”

“I actually didn’t drive here,” you admitted sheepishly, suddenly embarrassed about being out so late on your own. But you weren’t on your own, were you? You almost forgot about the friends you came here with, and you were sure they all left hours ago as you were catching up with your ex. 

“Can I give you a ride home then?” he asked, hopeful.

You smiled at him, “Yeah.”

It was dark as you and Frankie walked through the parking lot of the bar. Most of the cars were gone, and those that remained were about to drive away. Only Frankie’s truck parked on the far end of the lot was left.

“Still got that shitty old truck, huh?” you jested.

“Hey, this piece of shit has done me good,” Frankie laughed, “She may be getting up in years but she’s still got some life left in her.”

All you could do was grin widely. Yep, he was the same old Frankie that you fell in love with all those years ago. The same Frankie that you missed every day. The same Frankie that you wished you could get back and be the way things used to be…

“Well,” Frankie groaned as you both reached the passenger side, “Your ride waites,” he made a scene about hamming it up for you, making you burst into laughter.

“I’ve missed you, Frankie.” The confession slipped out before you could stop it.

He froze. 

Under the low light of the streetlamps, you looked stunning. Even in the darkness, Frankie could see the way your eyes shone. The tone shifted as he reached out and cupped the side of your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“I missed you too, baby,” he murmured softly.

Your lips parted to let out a deep breath as you found yourself drawn closer and closer to his face. You glanced down at his lips for a moment, remembering the way they were always so soft against yours. But, just as you felt his breath on your skin, it suddenly started to pour.

“Shit!” Frankie hissed as you both found yourself soaking wet in the downpour that came from nowhere, “Quick, get in!”

“Wait,” you grabbed his shirt, “Kiss me!”

“What?!”

“Kiss me. Right here, in the rain,” you sounded more sure of yourself this time, “Please?”

Frankie exhaled sharply as he hovered his lips over yours, “I can’t say no to that.”

With that, Frankie crashed his lips against yours in a deep and desperate kiss. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, feeling your soaked body against his. Swallowing the moan you let out, Frankie let out a groan of his own as he tasted you for the first time in years. And it was way better than he remembered. Instantly, Frankie was addicted to you again.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured against your lips as he broke away briefly only to kiss you again.

“Frankie…”

“Baby,” he cut you off, “I gotta tell you… Now that I’ve had a taste, I fucking need more…”

“What’s stopping you then?” you smirked as your tone dropped, your tone obvious.

“Now? Fucking nothing,” he smirked against your face as he grabbed you as yanked you towards the backseat. Fumbling with the door, Frankie quickly ushered you inside before climbing in on top of you and shutting the door behind him. Laughter erupted from both of you as you clumsily tried to situate yourself in the cramped backseat of Frankie’s truck. 

“Feels just like old times,” you mumbled in between frantic kisses as you felt yourself stripped of your soaking wet clothes.

Frankie let out a short laugh, “Like when we were younger and I’d fuck you in my back of my old beat up piece of shit car for hours,” he groaned as he yanked your bottoms off of you, “Fuck…” he breathed in awe.

All you could do was moan as you felt the heat of Frankie’s gaze warm you from the inside. Suddenly, the cold rain felt like a steamy mist on your skin as he looked at your pure pure need and adoration. 

“Shit baby,” Frankie purred before he dove into you in a flash.

You threw your head back and screamed as his lips made contact with your pussy, immediately sending you into a state of ecstasy. Pleasure overwhelmed you as Frankie’s tongue worked your fold with expert precision that you knew and loved from him. Moans filled the truck as your hands landed in his hair, pushing the cap off his head so you could bury your fingers in his tick locks.

“Fuck… Frankie…” you moaned as your eyes rolled back into your head. 

The rain continued to pound on the roof of Frankie’s tuck as he devoured you like a man starved. And perhaps that’s what Frankie was. Ever since the day you left, he wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms again, to taste you again. And now that he had his wish, he was not going to let you go.

Frankie’s emotions overwhelmed him as he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer against his face. He felt no need for air as he licked and slurped greedily at your pussy, savoring your taste and every sound you made. With every flick of his tongue, Frankie felt his cock stiffen more. But he ignored it. All he cared about was drawing in your pussy, drowning in giving you the pleasure you both craved after so long apart. 

“Oh baby… Fuck…” you cried out as tears filled your eyes.

As much as he wanted to coo soothing words, Frankie found that he couldn’t pull himself away from you. Licking down your folds, he darted his tongue in and out of your entrance a few times before he ran back up and sucked hard at your clit. The action pulled a cry from you that drowned out the pouring rain and you tugged at his hair harder.

That’s it baby, Frankie thought as he groaned into your body.

Your hips bucked against Frankie’s face on their own. Up and down, up and down, you rocked your hips against his face, feeling the combination of his tongue and his nose against your folds that created a pleasure unlike anything you ever felt before. You cried out in ecstasy as you felt a tingle emanate from your core.

“Fuck… Frankie… I’m…” you moaned as you felt your climax quickly approach.

Frankie didn’t let up. Instead, he grabbed you even tighter and picked up his pace with his tongue. Flicking your clit over and over again, he pushed harder, knowing exactly which spots drove you wild. Your moans and cries were music to his ears, highlighted by the sound of the rain that continued outside, surrounding you in your little pocket of bliss. 

“Fran…” you couldn’t even get his entire name out before your orgasm crashed into you like a wave hitting the beach. Your legs trembled on either side of his head as you threw your head back and screamed loudly. You felt like you were floating, with only Frankie’s tongue and hands to keep you grounded.

Even as your peak hit, Frankie still didn’t stop. He was too consumed with you to even think of breaking away. Instead, he kept going. Even as you whimpered from becoming overstimulated, he kept going. Frankie sucked and slurped at your cunt like he was eating a melting ice cream. And to him, you were just as sweet, if not sweeter.

Tears fell down your cheeks as your mind went blank. Even the uncomfortable cushion of his backseat didn’t bother you as you let out a desperate whine. In the break between your screams, you heard the rain hit the roof of the truck… as well as the obscene slurping of Frankie in between your legs. Picking your head up, you saw the outline of him in the dim light, his head bobbing up and down as he refused to let you go.

“Oh fuck…” you moaned as another climax hit you out of nowhere. Your body went limp as you cried out in bliss once more, feeling the overwhelming pleasure that Frankie’s tongue brought you. “Fuck!” you screamed as you yanked on his hair, letting him know you finally had enough.

With one final loud pop, Frankie finally broke away from your body. His eyes were glazed over and his chin glistened from your juices. He stared at you in silence, the only sound being the rain outside as you both caught your breaths. The windows were so fogged up that no one could see inside even if there was anyone out to peer in, and Frankie could barely see out.

“You alright, baby?” Frankie asked, breaking the silence. 

You blinked your eyes open and your heart fluttered in your chest from the way he looked at you, “Never fucking better,” you grinned.

Frankie leaned over, pushing himself forward to cover your body and take your lips in a slow yet still heated kiss, “Me too,” he murmured against your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him in closer, “I missed you so much, Frankie,” your voice was like a plea.

He cupped your face, “I missed you too, baby,” he replied, his tone soft. Frankie’s thumb brushed a tear off your cheek before he spoke again, “Hey,” he started with a hint of a smirk in his voice, “How about we go back to my place and make up for lost time?”

You grinned widely, “What are we waiting for?” you kissed him again, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. 

“Absolutely nothing,” he replied with a grin of his own and a bright future ahead for both of you despite the downpour outside. 

[punkshort]

The Stranger

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: An unexpected visitor barges into your new apartment, turning your whole life upside down, then disappears just as quickly. Or does he?

Warnings: infidelity is mentioned (reader gets cheated on by OC), language, threats of violence, heavy making out and some sexy situations but no smut

WC: 3K

A/N: When I wrote this, I had still yet to see The Equalizer 2 but I wanted to write an assassin fic and Dave was just right there. So, for the sake of this story, Dave doesn't have a family and he has a cover job. K bye.

Written for @undercoverpena April Showers Challenge

Collection Masterlist

Sunday Night

The apartment was small and a little dirty, but it would do. It would have to. The choices were limited on such short notice, and beggars can't be choosers.

The last thing you thought you would be doing the night before you started your new job was unpacking what little belongings you had in the middle of a goddamn thunderstorm. In an ideal world, you would have waited to move in when the weather was expected to clear, but when you walked in on your boyfriend of four years naked in your bed with his ex-girlfriend only a week ago, you would have moved in the middle of a blizzard if you had to.

That was how you found yourself late Sunday night drenched in a mix of your own sweat and rain, unpacking the last of your clothes from wet cardboard boxes. Making your bedroom the priority was a must. The last thing you needed on top of everything else was wrinkled clothes and a bad night's sleep for your first day of work.

If only you knew what your night had in store.

You were just starting to unpack the boxes for your bathroom, cursing under your breath when you noticed the towels at the very top and bottom of said box were soaked in rain water, when you heard a pounding on your door so loud, you almost screamed.

Nobody even had your address yet. Too embarrassed to tell your friends what your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend - did, the only people who knew you were moving were your parents, and they certainly wouldn't be blessing you with a surprise visit on this side of town after dark.

Tip-toeing out of your bedroom, your hair a half-dry and tangled mess, you slowly crept towards your door. Just as you were about to peek through the peephole, you heard the deadbolt unlock and the door swung open, only to be stopped by a laughably weak, eight link chain.

"Alvarez, it's me, open up," a gruff voice said through the crack in the door. He sounded panicked, but at least it wasn't a home invasion. This man just didn't realize Mr. Alvarez was no longer here and he must have had a key.

Combing your hair back from your face, you tentatively stepped into the beam of light that stretched into your living room from the hallway. When you locked eyes with your stranger, all dark and mysterious, your throat constricted. You could only see part of his face, just one eye and half of his soft looking mouth, but your heart still fluttered a bit in your chest.

"Who are you?" he frowned, eyeing you up and down, and suddenly you felt incredibly self-conscious standing in your own apartment only wearing your white tank top and sleep shorts.

"Excuse me? I live here. Who are you?" you countered, crossing your arms defensively. The man scoffed and tried to get a better glimpse of your apartment, as if he were expecting another person to emerge.

"Where's Alvarez?"

At that point, you felt a little bad. If this man knew Mr. Alvarez well enough to have a key, what you were about to tell him would be devastating, so you sighed and motioned for him to step back.

"Let me undo the chain," you explained, and he paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on your chest before taking a step back and allowing you to close the door and slide the chain off. When you reopened it, you finally saw all of your mystery man. He was decked out in black: black ski cap, black leather gloves, black jeans and jacket, and he dripped rainwater from each article of clothing, creating a small puddle in the thin carpet right outside your door.

"I'm so sorry, but Mr. Alvarez passed away a few weeks ago," you said sympathetically, and while, in your experience, men tended to be less emotional, you didn't expect his response.

"Well that's just fucking great," he muttered, and for the first time you realized he was out of breath. Red flags began to pop up everywhere: the dark clothes, the indifferent response to a friend's death, the fucking hand hidden behind his back. How didn't you notice that before?

You went to quickly shut your door but his hand shot out and stopped you.

"I'm sorry, but I'm gonna need to come in," he said, and your eyes went wide. Your parents warned you this side of town was bad, but the very first night?

"No!" you protested, putting all your weight into pushing on your door, but he wedged himself so you couldn't close it.

"I left something in here and I need it," he explained through gritted teeth.

"Nothing was here when I moved in," you said, still pushing on the door, "I have my phone and I'm calling the police!"

It was a lie. You didn't have your phone. It was still charging on your bed, but you had hoped that would make the man leave. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.

The door shoved open and you flew backwards, falling onto your back with a yelp, a sharp pain shooting up your spine.

The man entered your apartment and quickly shut the door behind him before glancing around.

"Are we alone?"

You scowled at him, about to lie, but you realized there was no point so you didn't say anything. He sighed and reached out an arm.

"I'm sorry," he said, and for the first time in your brief interaction, you heard some emotion in his voice. You stared hesitantly at his still wet, gloved hand before grabbing it and allowing him to pull you back up as you rubbed the back of your head with a wince. "You okay?" he asked, his brows furrowed and when you realized both his hands were visible, you relaxed a fraction.

"I think so. What the hell? Who are you?"

"I'm-"

He was about to explain when you both heard heavy footsteps running towards your door. In the blink of an eye, he reached forward and slid the chain back into the lock and deadbolted the door. There wasn't a second to spare because two fists began pounding heavily on the door from the other side.

You gasped softly and stepped backwards, eyes wide and filled with fear. That was when your mystery man pulled out the handgun from the back of his pants, silencer already attached, and your mind went blank.

This was how you were going to die.

"Open up!" a man's voice shouted from the other side as he began to kick at the door, making you jump. The intruder turned to you just as a rumble of thunder shook your building.

"You gotta make them leave."

"Me?" you whispered in a panic, "how do you expect me to do that?"

"They want me, and if they know I'm here, they'll kill me. Do you understand?" he asked, matching the volume of your voice while grabbing your shoulders.

Your lower lip began to tremble and he noticed.

"You can do this," he assured you, walking you backwards towards your bedroom as the shouting and pounding got louder. And as you stared into his deep brown eyes, you started to believe him. "I'm gonna hide and then you gotta tell them I'm not here. Can you do that?"

"If they just want you, why don't I just let them have you?" you asked as he continued to walk you backwards.

"Because they'll kill you, too," he said, his gaze never wavering. "These guys don't leave loose ends."

Fear shot through your body like the bolt of lightning outside your window.

Once he got to your bedroom, he released his grip on your shoulders and headed for your closet. He opened the accordion doors and pushed your clothes aside before sliding in against the wall.

"Just convince them I'm not here. You just moved in, you have no idea what they're talking about, okay?" he said, holding your gaze until you slowly nodded. Then he snapped the doors shut and shuffled your clothes around, leaving you all alone.

As you walked back towards your front door, you snagged a towel from the open box of bathroom stuff and wrapped it around your hair. You could do this. You had to.

You took a deep breath, your hand curling around the brass doorknob, and yanked it open, the chain still holding the door in place so you only saw a glimpse of the men in the hall, but you could see at least four.

"Can I help you?" you asked, trying your best to sound annoyed and not scared for your life. "You interrupted my shower," you added, pointing to your wrapped hair.

"Where is he?" the first man asked. His head was bald but you could see some stubble coming through, indicating he must shave his head.

"Who?" you asked innocently, and the man sneered.

"You know who."

"Actually, no I don't," you said, crossing your arms. "This is my apartment and I was enjoying a quiet night in before you arrived."

"Oh, yeah? You wear a men's shoe, size eleven?" the beefy looking guy asked, quirking an eyebrow as he stared down at the floor. Your eyes slowly drifted down and noticed a wet and dirty outline of your stranger's boot pressed firmly into the ancient beige carpet.

"No," you said, meeting his eye again. "But my boyfriend does. And he's out getting us dinner. We just moved in tonight," you told him confidently, squaring your shoulders and fucking praying the chain would hold if push came to shove.

You saw the men behind him exchange glances and shift their weight as they mulled over what you said. It was working. All you could hear was your own heart pounding loudly in your chest, the rain beating heavily against the glass windows of your living room, and in the distance, another soft rumble of thunder.

The bald man shot one more cursory glance into your apartment before meeting your eye.

"Must have the wrong unit."

You smirked.

"Honest mistake," you said, bravely holding his gaze as the group of them slowly ambled back towards the stairs. Once they were out of sight, you shut the door and twisted the lock, letting out a shaky breath. Your arms and legs were weak, head fuzzy from the adrenaline when you remembered a stranger was stuffed inside your closet.

Stumbling back towards your bedroom, you swung open the closet door, breath shallow and fast just to find him leaning up against the wall, a floorboard in your closet removed, revealing a now empty cash box, and holding up a piece of lingerie.

"For your boyfriend?" he questioned, and your fear quickly transformed into anger when you snatched it from his hand and tossed it on the floor next to his feet.

"Get the hell out of here," you told him, voice trembling.

He gave you a cocky smirk and pushed himself off the wall.

Gazing down at you, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes, he lowly asked "got a towel I could use?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced your feet to move towards the open box in the middle of your room, snatching up a clean towel and tossing it to him before pulling your own towel from your head and dropping it by your feet.

You watched for a moment as he plucked the ski cap off his head, revealing a thicket of dark brown, wet hair and used the towel to help flick away the moisture. Then your eyes landed on his gun, now tucked into the front of his jeans.

His gaze followed yours and smirked, thinking you were looking at something else.

"See something you like?" he asked, making you blush.

You swallowed roughly and took a step back. "Are you going to kill me, now?"

His gaze softened and he dropped his towel next to yours.

"No."

You eyed him wearily, still not believing him until he took the gun from his pants and tossed it on your bed, a good five feet away, leaving you both defenseless.

"Better?" he asked, and you raked your eyes up and down his body.

"How do I know you don't have any other weapons on you?"

He grinned and took another step forward, his eyes darkening. "You wanna frisk me?"

Your cheeks flushed with heat and you looked away, but he pinched your chin, the leather soft against your skin, and tilted your head back in his direction.

"Tell me something," he murmured, his eyes boring into yours, "you really got a boyfriend coming back here?"

He could see your face fall and he instantly felt regret.

"No," you said softly, your eyes now pinned to the floor with shame, "we broke up. It's why I just moved in here."

He frowned as he studied your face. "Why did you break up?" he asked, his fingers still gripping your chin.

"Caught him cheating on me," you told him. Why could you tell this perfect stranger your deepest shame but you couldn't tell your best friends?

He tsked and inched a little closer. "He's a fucking idiot."

Your eyes snapped up to his in surprise, only to find desire and need reflected right back.

Before either of you could overthink it, your mouths crashed together, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck and his hands pulling at your waist, dragging you against him as you devoured one another. Your fingers raked through his still damp hair, his skin smelling like the rain and sweat and gunpowder, the combination intoxicating. His tongue slipped past your lips with a groan, his exhale coming in quick, hot puffs against your cheek as he walked you back toward your bedroom wall. Once your body made contact with the chipped paint, he reached down and snagged the backs of your thighs, wrapping your legs around him while his tongue swirled aggressively around yours.

When he ground his hips into you, his hardening length rubbing against the ache between your legs, you gasped and tipped your head back.

"I don't even know your name," you whispered as his lips traveled down your neck, nipping and biting playfully as he went, the rain sounding like little musical notes against your singular bedroom window. He just moaned against your skin, his teeth dragging lightly over your collarbone while you rolled your hips against him, desperately some seeking relief for the fire he started between your legs.

He yanked you from the wall, a small squeak of surprise slipping past your lips, fingers digging into his broad shoulders as he carried you to your bed and dropped you down next to his gun. His assault on your neck never stopped. You arched your back, wishing he would take off those damn gloves so you could feel him when his phone suddenly trilled in his pocket. His lips stalled and you held your breath, each of you frozen in the moment wondering how you managed to find yourselves in such a compromising position so quickly.

"Shit," he whispered, reaching into his pants pocket, and you knew right then and there it was over.

He glanced at the screen and gave you an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry," he said, pushing himself away from you and snatching up his gun and hat. "I gotta go."

You sat up on your bed and pressed your legs together, hoping your face didn't look as red as it felt.

Before he left, he glanced back at you, his eyes falling to your mouth, watching as your teeth sunk anxiously into your lower lip, chin bright red from the burn of his five o'clock shadow.

"Thank you," he said, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching at his side. And before you could respond, he disappeared with just a soft click of your door, making you wonder by morning if you had dreamed him up.

Monday

As expected, you hardly slept. Sleeping in a new place all on its own had its challenges, but after almost dying a handful of times within an hour, a good nights sleep was pretty much out of the question.

You don't know why you did it, but as you were getting ready for work, after a lukewarm shower, you foolishly grabbed the piece of lingerie your stranger discovered in your closet and put it on under your clothes. Maybe you wanted a reminder of him, or maybe you just wanted to feel more confident.

Arriving ten minutes early, the rain drying on the sidewalk but the smell still thick and heavy in the air, you strode up to the front doors of the financial consulting firm, hoping that the amount of coffee you poured down your throat that morning would be enough to keep you at your best.

The perky blonde from HR was showing you around the impressive building as she led you back to the department you would be working with. You were longingly eyeing the fresh fruit in the break room when you turned around and nearly ran smack dab into her back, stumbling a bit in the process.

An apology died on your lips when you found yourself looking past her, gaze falling onto an all too familiar looking man inside an office less than ten feet away, his phone cradled between his shoulder and ear as he typed into his computer, a concentrated look painting his impossibly handsome face. His dark, soft hair was neatly combed, his plush lips twitching into the receiver as his muscular shoulders stretched the fabric of his light blue button down, and when he reached for a file, his eye suddenly catching yours.

Neither of you looked away while he continued to give one word answers over the phone and you barely recognized that the HR girl was showing you your new desk. A desk right outside his office. All you could think about was what his hair felt like between your fingers, what his mouth felt like when he left those marks on your neck you had to cover that morning with makeup.

How he left you, needy and aching for more.

Then your eyes flicked to the shiny name plaque next to his door frame: Dave York.

pt. 2

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[mountainsandmayhem]

Right Person, Wrong Time

Joel Miler x Female Reader

AN: This is for @undercoverpena 's April Showers Challenge. And for once, I did not write smut. I know, who am I? This is not beta'd or really proof read. I'm basically having imposter syndrome over the whole thing soooo...Love you, say it back, bye!

You know that famous saying, “Right Person, Wrong Time”? Well, that was Joel Miller. He had the potential to be the absolute love of your life, but as a single father to a teenage girl and a small business owner, he just didn’t have the time right now. You were about to turn thirty, him thirty six in just a few days time. So, the night before his birthday you made the gut wrenching decision to end things with him. 

“What do you mean we should see other people? There’s no other people.” He proclaimed, eyes filling with tears, mirroring yours.

“It’s just not the right time. I want to get married and have a baby, Joel. Do you really want that?” You have to remain strong, it had only been three months, you hadn’t met Sarah or any of his family. Same with your side, he knew about your sisters but no one else was at risk of being hurt by this break up outside of the two of you. This was the right thing to do before you both got in too deep.

Right Person, Wrong Time.

Almost twenty five years later and you still find yourself replaying that conversation. Every September, Joel flashes behind your eyelids - still perfectly clear, almost like it had just happened yesterday. Dark curly hair, patchy scruff, big brown eyes and furrowed brows; one day he’s going to have a permanent crease between them from all his sexy scowling. If you focus hard enough, you can feel his rough and calloused fingers on your skin. You can still hear his deep and silky voice, almost managing to make you feel lighter every time he said your name or called you darlin’ or sweetheart.

“That feel good, Darlin’?”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let go for me.”

The outbreak happened not even 24 hours after you broke up with him. Had he survived? There’s no way you survived and he didn’t. Your suspicions were confirmed the day Tommy Miller showed up.

For the most part you liked to keep to yourself, running the community garden. You’re thankful for the small and safe community, but word gets around. And when you hear that Tommy’s brother has come to town you shrink even further back into the shadows, unsure if you want to see him again. Would it hurt more if he remembered you, or if he had no memory of you and that conversation that has imprinted itself upon you? Joel Miller is your last memory, both happy and sad, before the world fell apart. 

Him, and the little girl he showed up with, left before you found the courage to approach him and soon winter took over Jackson, leaving you without the garden. Without the distraction from your thoughts of Joel.

The winter is long and brutal. April finally rolls around, and you trudge out into the rain and head to the dining hall for dinner. The gates open in the distance, but you’re lost in your own thoughts. This is more rain than you have seen in months. The garden is going to love it, you think. Just as you’re about to step up the creaky wooden steps you hear your name. It floats across the commune in a deep, gravelly, and oh so familiar voice.

You stop, tears flooding your lash line and the mud squeaking under your rubber boots as you turn to look at him through glassy eyes. Your lips part and your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. The world around you melts away. All you can see and hear is Joel Miller. He’s aged, grey peppers his temples and facial hair, he has those lines that you knew he would permanently etched between his brows, but those big brown eyes are like they’ve been frozen in time as they dance around your face.

“It’s you,” he says softly, voice shaking in a mix of sadness and relief, as he takes a few steps towards you. “I-I can’t believe it. I’ve, well…” He rakes his fingers through his soaked curls as you stare at him. The rain is coming down in a steady sheet, the ground becoming a muddy mess, and both of your clothes completely soaked through. You haven’t taken a breath in what feels like hours. 

It’s you.

“I have thought about you almost every day since the world fell apart,” he continues, his warm voice washing over you like molasses. “When I was at my lowest I would think of that little dimple you get when you smile, or that time wine came out of your nose from when you laughed at that stupid joke I made. I don’t remember the joke, but I remember how happy you looked as the sun set and the orange glow lit your skin. I’d remember the way your face scrunched up when you tried whiskey for the first time. I would remember where all your freckles are, and how soft you were against my lips as I kissed every single one. I’d think of that first time we made love, how I’d never felt that overwhelmed with emotion for another person before, how in that moment I realized that I was truly fucked when it came to you. It was anything you wanted, sweetheart. Even if it meant you wanted to break up. I never should have let you go, darin’. I’m so sorry. I tried to find you before we fled for Boston.”

By the time he’s done talking you’re right in front of him, chest grazing his, close enough that you can feel the heat of him. You have no idea how you got that close to him. You don’t remember moving your feet. Joel Miller, your Joel Miller. Greyer, lines around his eyes, but yours.

As the rain pelts down you waste no time, reaching up around his neck as he lifts you up and into his embrace. Your noses graze as you whisper a quiet ‘I missed you so much’ into his lips. 

“I’m never letting you go, baby. Never again.” He says and then you press your lips into his in a searing kiss. It lights your whole body on fire, you feel like you’ve been hit by a defibrillator. 

You’re alive again.

====================

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi i @pedritoferg @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey @iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81

[loonmartell]

𓄹𓄼 Rainy day brew 𓄼𓄹

(No outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary : Can a stormy night and well brewed coffee bring two hearts together?

Rating : Explicit/+18 (Smut! MDNI)

Word count : 6,336 (I got carried away sorry..)

Warnings/tags : No outbreak AU, forced proximity cuz rain, pining, Alternating POV, pet names, one “yes, ma’am” because I couldn’t help it, a sprinkle of plot, lil fluff & banter, SMUT (unprotected PiV sex, fingering, dirty talk, grinding, kissing, teasing, One (1) playful ass slap, creampie), storms (rain, thunder & lightning), A LOT of yapping about pour over coffee, no use of y/n.

A/N : Hello again! Today I come with Joel smut 🙏🏻. I wrote this for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge! I absolutely fell in love with the idea when i saw it, cuz if there’s one thing about me it’s that I LOVE rain! So ofc i had to try and do it <3 A big huge colossal thank you to @joels-darlin for being my lovely beta <33 and @coispunk for not blocking me after i bounced off the walls contemplating if i should upload this or not ✨✨✨

Masterlist

——

“You need a ride home darlin’?”

You turn to the source of the voice and find Joel talking to you through the rolled down window of his pick up truck.

“Oh! no it’s okay I can wait for the rain to—”

“Non ‘a that now, This storm could last ‘til tomorrow night” he leans over the passenger seat to open the door for you.

It’s not that you wouldn’t appreciate the ride —you most certainly would— but you didn’t want to be an inconvenience and you especially didn’t want Joel to think that you were aburden.

You didn’t know each other very well. Your best friend Maria is dating his brother Tommy. And you’ve been dragged to a couple of dinners and drinks over the last couple of months with the three of them. But the conversations were always guided by the other two, so you and Joel never really spoke much. In fact, you had the fleeting idea that maybe Joel didn’t like you. He’s always so tense around you, you know this because you literally saw his jaw tensing after you showed up. And you caught him glaring at you a couple of times. You thought you may have unknowingly offended him somehow, but Maria assured you afterwards that you didn't say or do anything wrong and that he was probably just tired. So you let it go, but the idea is still floating around in your head.

Tonight was one of those nights where you went out for drinks, Maria and Tommy headed home early and left you with Joel half an hour ago. And not long after that Joel excused himself saying he had an early morning and said his goodbyes.

You waited a couple of minutes before you got out as well. Only, much to your delight; a storm was brewing and it was raining by the time you were ready to walk home. What an incredible choice you made to walk instead of drive on this day.

When Joel was one street away from where he left you at the bar. He thought back on when you mentioned leaving your car at home because you thought it was nice weather for a stroll. He tried really hard to get the idea of you walking home in this storm out of his head. You can manage. Get an uber, call a cab, whatever. But then again, Joel's southern manners would never allow him. That, and this big, colossal crush he has on you.

The first time he ever saw you was when he picked up Tommy from Maria’s (and your) apartment one morning. Tommy left him waiting long enough for you to get out and go to work (he assumed). You really had him in a chokehold. You were really, breathtakingly beautiful. You had your hair in a high ponytail with a few strands deliberately out, framing the gorgeous features of your face. You had both your hands full. One had a large handbag hanging from your wrist, hand holding a travel mug and a coat hanging on your forearm. The other hand was holding a bright red watering can. You started watering the flower beds on the windowsills and the big pot of gardenias right by the door. Your next door neighbour, an old lady, got out at that time. And Joel saw your cheery smile for the first time, and what he assumed were good mornings were exchanged. What a sweet, little thing.

He had the sudden urge to roll down the car window so he could hear what voice accompanied that divine face. But he thought better of it. And sooner than he would prefer, you were in your car and driving off.

When Tommy finally showed up, apparently physically unable to take his lips off of Maria’s, judging by how they never separated even after he was out the door. Joel rolled his eyes and turned his face away from that scene and towards the street on his other side.

Finally Tommy got into the car with a disgusting, lovesick smile on his face. But he smelled like shampoo and his hair was relatively wet. He showered and for that Joel is eternally grateful.

“You’re late” Joel deadpanned.

“And good morning to you too, brother” The younger man scoffed before placing two travel mugs in the cup holders.

Joel scrunched his eyebrows “what's that?”

“Coffee, Maria’s roommate brews her own with one ‘a those pour over kits and she insisted that we try hers.”

Joel’s throat went dry, thinking about that pretty girl he was unashamedly staring at, going out of her way to make enough coffee for her friend’s boyfriend’s brother. A sweet, delightful little thing.

“That’s real nice of her” if his voice cracked a little, Tommy didn’t notice.

“Yeah it is. So I’ve been thinkin’,” Tommy changed the subject faster than Joel would like. “You think you can drop me off at my place at say.. Two?”

“Two? We finish at the site at least after Three, what d’ya mean you wanna get out at Two?” Joel shifted his eyes from the road long enough to glare at his brother.

“Yeah I know but I was thinkin’” Joel is really starting to hate it when Tommy thinks “today’s me and Maria’s six months anniversary, and I kinda wanna do somethin’ special for her”

Six months anniversary Joel mentally scoffed, the fuck is a six months anniversary? And why isn’t he talking more about that damn sweet roommate!

“Yeah no can do, Romeo. We’re already behind ‘cause ’a last week, need I remind you that you ditched me laying down parquet on my own? had to do the three bedrooms that day all by myself”

“I told you we should’a done planks instead of parquet but you never listen to me, do you?” Tommy’s counter argument was weaker than he was hoping for. It was the owner’s choice, not Joel’s. And they both knew it. “Plus I had a damn plausible excuse that day”

“Not sure if a discount on an already cheap restaurant counts as plausible”

“It wasn’t just a ’discount’, Joel. It was a surf ‘n turf for half the price!”

“Yeah well I was surfin’ and turfin’ alone on the floors of the Johnsons. You’re not ditchin’ me again.”

Tommy slumped down on his chair like a toddler would.

On a red light Joel finally picked up his mug and took his first sip. A sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making little thing.

——

Before he even knew it, Joel was opening the passenger side door for you, not taking no for an answer. Thankfully, you didn’t put up that much of a fight and climbed your pretty ass in his truck.

The ride was pretty short and silent. The sound of thunder and loud smacks of raindrops against the car not leaving much room for chatting anyway.

When he parked as close as he could to your door, he reached behind your seat to the pocket of it. And brought out a small, folded umbrella. He knew it was a mere seconds walk from the car to your door, but he had the umbrella with him already, so why risk giving you a cold? Your nose, red and sniffling. He had to actively suppress the upturn of the corners of his lips.

“Here” he handed you the umbrella and before you could get a chance to speak, he followed with “not taking no for an answer, darlin’. Gettin’ soaked in this wind could get you sick”

“Um.. actually the storm’s getting stronger, and I was gonna suggest you come inside? I don’t know if I’m comfortable with you driving in this weather”

A sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful little thing.

He looked out the windows, trying to figure out his next move.

“Think I’ll take you up on that offer. It does look pretty bad, and the slippery streets are harder to navigate when I can’t see further than my nose.” He brought his eyes to you. Hoping he wouldn’t seem too eager to agree.

You graced him with a smile and said “well alright then, guess now I don’t have to feel bad for hogging you umbrella”

“ ‘s not hogging if I’m voluntarily givin’ it to you” he smirked as he turned off the car. He got out of it with a quick “stay where you are” and opened the umbrella as he rounded to your side of the truck.

You walked under the umbrella he was holding. You’ve never been this close to him before and it gave you goosebumps that had nothing to do with the weather. You fiddled with your keys until you got the door open. There was no car outside or shoes in the foyer. They must’ve gone to Tommy's then. As much as you always wanted some quiet, alone time in your apartment. This was not one of those times. You were hoping Maria and Tommy were here to take the edge off of being alone with Joel, but you can’t really back out now and you’re already here. So, time to take a page out of the southern manners book.

”What would you like to drink?” you offered after he settled on the couch. His large frame dwarfing your whole living room, making everything look almost miniature. The thought had you blushing and you don’t really know why, but you don’t even want to find out.

“Coffee would be nice, if it's not a bother” his voice travelled through his place on the couch to the kitchen.

You can’t help the excited grin you have on “not at all! I just got a new Holklotz set that I’ve been dying to try out” when you get a new brewing set, you need time to experiment with different coffee grinds, ratios and timing between blooming and brewing to master the perfect cup. Time is a luxury not available to you on late mornings when you trade it for extra minutes of sleep.

Footsteps approaching the kitchen make you raise your head to see Joel coming into view, his eyebrows scrunched and confused “you got a what?”

You smile and hold the wooden base of the dripstand that you took out of the cabinet “this is my newest set, it arrived a week ago but between work and being too tired after, I haven’t had the time to bring it out and try it yet. Until now” you look at him with a too excited smile that you don’t try to hide.

“Well alrighty then, you happen to have here the perfect white mouse, test away” he settles at the barstool by the kitchen island that you’re standing by. You weigh the coffee beans and put them in the manual grinder, set to the size you need. Not too coarse but not too fine.

“Okay white mouse, care to help?” You hold up the grinder.

“Tell me what you need, boss” he concludes. So, you hand him the grinder to work on it as you heat the water and take the rest of the set out and put it together.

He continues working on grinding the coffee and wonders if you have immensely great upper body strength, since you do this every morning. His coffee is already ground and comes in a container. He doesn’t see the necessity for an upper body workout every time you need a little caffeine. But truth be told, he has been craving that coffee you made him that one time. Damned if it wasn’t the best cup he’s ever had.

The silence is killing him, and he has to avail from the storm that brought him to your home. “So, when you’re not at work or training for an arm wrestlin’ tournament,” he gestures to the grinder “what do you like to do?”

“Obviously, I take part in the tournaments I train for” you say with a serious expression that has his eyes widened in surprise. “I’m kidding, Joel. Although I think I have a good solid shot at winning.” You stick your nose up in the prettiest little smug face and Joel wants to kiss it away so bad. Focus.

He drags himself back to the present “can’t argue with that. But, if you’re basing that over this,” he again gestures to the grinder in his hands “then it’s not enough bargain for winning”.

You scoff and raise your hands up, wiggling your fingers “you have no idea what these hands can do” Joel can see you regretted blurting out the words without thinking, judging by the rising blush on your face and the way you don’t meet his eyes anymore. He can’t say he’s any better, his mind is already conjuring unholy images, reeling his brain and sending a rush of tingling heat down south.

What can they do? He imagines your small hands trying to wrap around his throbbing cock. Or you writhing on your bed stuffing yourself with three of your too small fingers, desperately trying to cum. He bets he can do it faster and better for you. If you give him the chance.

He knows he shouldn’t be picturing you like this. It’s crazy to even think about you like this. You haven’t even told him if you’re interested. Hell he never even said anything to show you he’s interested.

Clearing your throat, this time you’re the one bringing him back to the present, you say “anyway, I think I got off topic there” you let out a nervous chuckle. “To answer your question. My time is pretty much divided between work, coffee and my plants. I’m kinda boring, don’t really got much going on”

Joel doesn’t hear the presence of a partner in your life, and he selfishly likes it.

“Don’t sound boring to me, ‘s pretty comfortable” you smile at his comment and he gives you the coffee grounds, ready to be used.

You start your brewing process, talking him through every step you’re doing. Wetting the filter, dumping the coffee grounds in and meticulously pouring the water on the dripper. The blooming, the timing. He can’t promise he heard everything. Because you bite your bottom lip and your face contorts in the cutest focused face and he can’t help but stare. You really love doing this and he wants to eat you up.

“My chemex is my go-to on late mornings,” You suddenly pipe up as you’re waiting for the water to drip through the coffee grounds. “Even though it takes longer than a V60, It’s just faster to clean up and I can dual-task while it’s brewing. So I don’t mind.”

He lets out a hum from the back of his throat, considering what you said. “What about the taste? Whaddya like more?” He surprises himself that he actually cares and not just trying to be polite.

“I like them both the same, the flavour with the V60 is usually richer ‘cause the filters are thinner, but I still like the soft, smooth taste when using the chemex”.

In the back of his mind, Joel thinks he’s ready to fall in love with you. He loves coffee, sure. But to him it’s just something he needs in the morning and sometimes later in the day. Never really thought much of it, he has a coffee machine that gets work done for him. And yet, here you are, showing him a different, almost artistic aspect of it.

“Although..” Okay so you’re not done yet. “If we’re talking taste-wise in the brewing methods, I’ll have to go with the syphon”

“Syphon?”

“Yes syphon, I tried it once in a lovely family owned coffee shop across town. I’m telling you, if I lived near there? I would be a regular faster than you can say syphon”

“Well syphon is a long word, two full syllables” he faux ponders, making you giggle.

“Okay smartass, coffee’s ready.” You pull out two mugs from the cabinet. And fill them up. And slide his across the kitchen island, a brown owl adorning the ceramic surface.

You both sip at the same time then let out a ridiculously simultaneous soft sighs. You look at Joel with wide, pleading eyes, gauging his reaction. And of course, being the honest man that he is, he would never lie.

“Damn, that is good” he clicks his tongue and goes for another sip.

You smile brightly “I like it too. Although it’s a little more bitter for my liking, think I'll adjust the grind next time.”

You want to kick yourself so bad. You’re only now realising that you got too comfortable and you let yourself go on and on about something he probably doesn’t even care about. You had to shut the caffeine talk down.

“So, Joel, how's Sarah?” You gestured for him to follow you to the living room.

He settled on one side of the loveseat while you occupied the other, folding your legs under yourself. “She’s alright, her mom wanted her to see her grandma so she’s with her this week.” Maria told you all about their co-parenting system and how they’re succeeding in making it work so far. Little 10 years old Sarah spends equal amounts of time with both her parents and she feels loved by both. Not everything is a bed of roses, of course. But they deal with obstacles when they appear in their time.

“That’s nice, and how was her game last week? I remember you said she was nervous about it?” He stared at you for a few seconds too long that it makes you wonder if you crossed a line or said something wrong. But he blinked a couple of times and continued.

“Doin’ great actually, my little goal getter” he pondered softly before announcing “she scored the winning goal in last week’s game!” He sat up a little, you think it’s unconsciously as a result of his excitement.

“Oh my god! That’s so amazing!” You matched his energy “you must be so proud!”.

His smile widened if it was possible “I am, she puts her mind into something and never rests ‘til she gets it,” he reclined against the couch again “dunno where she got it from, but I sure as hell am not gonna complain”

“You’re selling yourself short, Joel.” You offered a warm smile “I’m sure you’ve been a great influence on her, your determination is probably rubbing off on her.”

Joel’s expression softened, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. “Thanks, sure means a lot coming from you, sweetheart. If I’m bein’ honest, I just wanna see my girl chasin’ her dreams and be happy. ‘s all I want”

“I have no doubt she’ll do so much, and she’ll achieve great things with your guidance and support” you placed your hand on his knees for reassurance.

He felt warmth all over his chest, his heartbeats exceeding those of a hummingbird. His eyes fell down to where your hand was touching and almost burning him, and they stayed there for a while before looking back at your eyes. He has this immense urge to kiss you. The tension has been building all night and his ability to hold himself off is getting harder and harder by the second.

He cleared his throat, trying to steady his racing heart as he met your gaze. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your faith in her means the world to me."

Your hand lingered on his knee for a moment longer before you withdrew it, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. "She's lucky to have you as her dad, y’know" you said softly, the look in your eyes showing the sincerity of your words.

A moment of silence passed between you, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Joel's gaze flickered to your lips, his own heart still pounding accompanied by longing. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to convey the feelings swirling inside him.

He brought his eyes back up to yours only to see that your gaze had been on his lips, mirroring his desires. Your gazes met, the tension snapped. Lightning flashes through the window right before your eyes and your lips crash in a bruising, soaring kiss that to outsiders would look as if you were trying to devour each other. Everything happened at a rather fast pace. The roaring of the thunder dwindled by frantic breathing and the rush of blood in his ears. His tongue demanded entry, which you gave no problem. He brought his large palm over your hips, pulling you over to straddle him, never breaking the kiss.

He felt your heat through the layers of clothes between you as you settled on his lap, pulling a soft gasp out of you. Using his grasp on your hips, he rocked you back and forth to grind your center on his bulge, eliciting a string of whines you let out in between the clashing of tongues. In a moment of sudden clarity, he broke off your lips but never moved too far away, he rested his forehead to yours, sharing the air. Finally, he spoke, his voice husky with emotion.“Um- I’m sorry, is- is this okay?”

You continued to move against him, seeking more friction. Then you chuckled through your laboured breathing, “yeah, yes I want this. If- if you do too.”

“Oh darlin’ you have no idea” he hurried out before picking up where he left off, trailing his lips down the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck where he settled on open mouthed kisses that sent your head falling back, giving him more of you. He got addicted to the taste of your skin on his tongue fast and he craved to taste more.

Dragging his mouth over your shoulders then to your collarbone. He huffed in frustration, your shirt was personally offending him by denying him the access he needed. Seeming to sense his frustration, you pushed him away slightly so you could pull off your shirt over your head in one smooth motion. He wasted no time roaming his hands all over your torso, returning his mouth to your collarbones, kissing his way down to the parts of your breasts spilling out from your bra.

His hands slithered up from your hips to the sides of your waist, then wrapped around your back and moved up to hook his fingers underneath the strap of your bra. He mumbled against your skin, “can I take it off?” You gasped your affirmation. Overwhelming sensations leaving you breathless.

Even though it was a simple bra strap, he struggled to unhook it. Hands too shaky and excited. You breathed a laugh and did it yourself. Once you’re completely bare, nipples perking up as soon as the cold air hits them. He pulled away, looking at you with wide, fascinated eyes. His lips immediately latched around a nipple, flicking his tongue slowly, almost as if he’s savouring the feeling. He pulled away and murmured “beautiful”. Just to latch onto the other one with the same treatment, “absolutely beautiful” he murmured again into the plushness of your tits.

You felt a shiver at the undivided attention from the gorgeous man that seems to never get enough of you. Of course you always thought he was handsome, that was non negotiable. The man was gorgeous from day one. And tonight, you felt a connection that you never felt before. And as soon as the ties were made, the tension rose suddenly, as if it had always been there but you were too much in your head to notice it, contemplating whether he likes you or not. But now, you do notice it. Very much so. And it’s becoming unbearable. You want him so bad. You want him to drown all your senses. You want him inside, outside, under and over you.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You held his head with both your hands to pull him away from your chest before saying “need to see you too, Joel” you pleaded as you fumbled with the hem of his shirt trying to lift it. His eyes darkened at your desperation. As quick as the lightning that occasionally lights up the room around you, he flipped you so your back is against the couch and took off his shirt and jeans and hovered above you.

You took a steadying breath and your eyes drank in the sight in front of you, bringing your hands on each of his wrists. You mapped the outlines of his thick arms, moving towards his shoulders. Then brought them back to his broad chest, bare except for the hair that formed a thick layer in the center. You felt the muscles ripple under your fingertips. Built from the physical labour that a contractor would endure. You lowered your touch a little to feel his soft stomach. Squishy tummy, a sign of a man that was actually living and feeding himself well. Not shying away from a meal or obsessing over fitting society’s mould of perfection. You wanted to kiss it and nibble on it so bad, but you weren’t sure if he’d be okay with it, that was probably more of a second time type of thing. Mentally shaking your head away from the idea that you’re already thinking of next time when nothing even happened yet. Lastly, you ran your fingers on the smattering of coarse, dark hair that dipped further down into his tented boxers.

Mostly empty coffee cups long abandoned on the table. He knelt on his knees between your spread legs, and yanked your pants and panties in one quick motion. Towering over your naked form. His eyes danced around every inch of your body. He brought his thumbs to each side of your heat. Tracing the outside of your folds. He murmured so low, almost as if he’s talking to himself “Too goddamn pretty for your own good, baby”. He was basking in the sight of your desperate writhing as your need for any kind of friction became unfathomable.

“Please,” you whined in frustration, A smirk pulled on his lips at your little pouty face.

“Please what, darlin’?”

“Touch me” your keen hands reach for his wrists to coax them where you want him. But he was determined to keep his hands at their place.

Yeah, your hands are too small, too soft for such a sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager little thing.

“I am touching you now, ain’t I?” He keeps stroking the outside of your lower lips.

“More, please.” You whimpered.

“Well, you leave me no choice now, since you asked so nicely”

He wasted no time gathering the slick from your opening and plunging his thick middle finger in and out. Your breath catching at the sudden but welcome stretch. Not long after, his ring finger joined inside and he curled them both up, searching and finding the spot that makes your eyes roll and your hips buck into his hand in shock.

“sit still, angel.” He placed his other hand on your lower stomach to keep your back rested on the couch. He picked up the pace of his fingers thrusting in and out, in and out, massaging the same spot over and over and over. He felt your walls slightly tightening around his fingers, and there’s a change in the rhythm of your breathing. You’re close. “Cum for me, angel. Come on lemme see this pretty pussy droolin’ for me”. He kept his pace up until you were gasping for air. And with a specifically strong stroke, your walls clumped down, choking his fingers and soaking them to the wrist. Working you through your high, he kept his eyes on you, the sight of you coming apart on his fingers. Heavenly.

He took his fingers out and sucked them with lewd, obscene sounds. He made a show to lick his palm clean of your release and humming around his fingers. “Next time, I’m havin’ it straight from its source” he leaned down and kissed your parted lips. “Oughta have a palate cleanser ‘f we’re gonna give your coffee a fair shot” he gave a playful smack to your ass “and you sure know how to make ‘em.”

You blushed and giggled as you couldn’t help the giddy feeling of the prospect of a next time. The image of Joel relishing the taste of you is already seared deep in your brain. You couldn’t wait to have these slurping noises happening between your legs, certain already that he doesn’t eat, he devours.

He sat up on his haunches and lowered his boxers below his balls. He took his cock in his hand. Not even his large hand wrapped around it makes it seem any less girthy. The head is angry and leaking a steady stream. He gives himself slow, languid strokes from base to red-purplish head. You couldn’t help yourself, you sat up and your hand took over his. Stroking him at the same pace he was. He shuddered at your touch and marvelled at the contrast between his rough, calloused hand versus your soft, smooth ones on his cock. You gradually increased the pressure, adding a twist at the end that sent his head falling back with a stifled groan between his clenched teeth.

His hands were tight fists by his sides, desperately trying to hold off but ready to pounce at you any moment. “Hold on, baby” he groaned “I- I gotta grab a condom”

“But I wanna feel you, and I’m safe” you said in a little, unsure voice. Still stroking him and loving the velvety softness enveloping the steely hardness. When your gazes met again, the hungry look in his eyes made a tiny sound climb to the back of your throat. With that, the last thread holding off the beast inside him snapped. With a low growl he grabbed your ankles, yanking you closer to his pelvis, making your back hit the soft pillow on the couch with a dull thud.

“Baby, I’m clean too. But I need ya to be sure, angel. ‘Cause when I start, ‘m not really sure I can stop” He said through dark eyes that were straining to hold off.

You held firm eye contact with him “I’m sure, Joel. Please fuck me now”

“Yes, ma’am” with that, he ran his cock through your slit, gathering you wetness before lining it with your entrance and with one quick motion he sinks into you. Your moans and his name on your tongue, dripping honey onto his ear. He feels your warmth enveloping every inch of him. He wants to get lost in the feeling. To replace every bad memory he has with this sensation, the divine fit of your silky smooth walls, encompassing him. So tight, so soft, so perfect.

As his hips rocked back and forth, you wrapped your legs around him, and dug your heels into his ass, wanting him impossibly deeper. Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy little thing. He removed his hands from beside your head to hold the base of your skull in one of his palms and wrap the other under your waist for leverage. Grunting into your neck while your pretty moans filling his ears got louder as he moved in a pace that promised him a date with painkillers and an ice pack on his back tomorrow night.

When he felt the telltale signs of your near release, he gently let go of your head to bring his hand down and circle your bundle of nerves. Your continuous string of frantic pleads prompted him to lay soothing kisses to the corner of your mouth. With a compulsive string of “it’s okay, baby”, “sound so pretty whinin’ like that”, and “just let go for me, princess.”

The last one pushing you over the edge. With your legs quivering, your breathing turning into shallow panting and your hands clawing at his back. He was working you through it all with a “that’s it, angel. There ya go”, “so good for me” and “look so pretty cummin’ on my cock”.

Once your muscles stopped contracting and your heartbeat settled on. Joel switched to a more gentle pace. You stuttered out between small gasps of air “cum for me, Joel. Fill me up”. Leaving him no choice but to buck into you wildly with renewed vigour. Fucking you like all of his goddamn life is depending on it.

Loving the effect you have on him, you whispered “Wanna feel you inside me after you leave, Joel”. This makes his release hit him like a freight train. With a few forceful plunges and a string of grunted out fucks. He shoots his load with a prolonged groan of your name, painting your walls with strong, long spurts. He came so hard, he thinks he blacked out for a minute.

He collapsed on top of you, nuzzling in your neck and surrounding himself in your scent as he comes down from his high. In the middle of the chaos of regulating heartbeats and relaxing bodies, your laboured breathing turns into a giggle when his beard tickles your neck and under your jaw. He lifted his head to look at you with a “what?” and scrunched eyebrows. You stifled your giggle with a shake of your head. Only failing when he dips his head in your neck again. He smirked when realisation hit him. Lifting his head again “You’re ticklish ain’tcha, angel?” His face is so close your noses were touching.

You pressed your lips in a firm, straight line and shook your head again.

“No? So you don’t mind me doing this?” He rubbed his beard on your neck again and again. You went into a giggle fit that triggered his own breathy chuckles as he switched to the other side.

“Okay, okay I am, I am!” You managed to say between giggles.

He stopped and looked you straight in the eyes “ ‘s what I thought” he descended his lips on yours and they mingled in a soft, deep kiss that made you lightheaded. He wouldn’t mind getting used to this, “Lemme clean ya up, princess”.

One year later.

The anniversary of your first “get together” is today. Joel wanted to skip work all together, but he knew Tommy would give him shit about it. How ironic.

He rented a gorgeous, comfy cabin for the weekend, that’s a thirty minutes drive away from town. Joel coaxed Sarah into a slumber party at her uncle’s, which she would’ve very happily agreed to either way. But she’s a smart kid and she chose to haggle for a later bedtime and ice cream for dessert both nights.

He wanted to take the extra time to prepare everything you might need, from basic essentials like food or first aid kits, to extra entertainment options like books or puzzles. He doubts they’ll need the latter though.

——

But then again, it’s April, and a storm was closing in. Rendering the drive there too dangerous to make during the night. And the storm is predicted to last the whole weekend, even threatening to close schools on Monday.

“I’m just upset you didn’t get your money’s worth from that cabin” you say with worried expressions as you put away the food that you aimlessly packed earlier.

Joel brings the last of the suitcases in, sitting them by the door. “The owners seem pretty nice, bet they’ll understand and agree to push the reservation back”

“Then, that settles it.” You sighed and closed the fridge with finality. “We’re having our anniversary weekend here” you approached him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He instinctively placed his hands on the dip of your waist, and grunted with furrowed eyebrows “I got a long ass list of things I wanted to do to you in that cabin, now ‘s just sitting in my wallet mockin’ me”.

“It’s for the better, gives me time to make my own list” you teased him with a wink and a bite to your lower lip.

He squeezed your waist with a low, gravel groan. Eyes on your lips in a strong, hungry stare.

But before he can act on his thoughts you unwrap yourself from his tight grasp and turn away with a shout that carries upstairs “Sarah, change of plans! We’re staying here for the weekend!”

Hearing her footsteps descending the stairs, Sarah asked “you’re staying with us too?”. She squeals when you nod with a bright grin. “Now we can watch that movie I told you about last week!” With that, she drags you into the living room, gushing to you about the movie while you listen with interest and occasional oohs and aahs and reactions Joel knows are genuine.

Every other sound dies down as one thought only echoes in his head.

Oh god, please let me keep her.

The black, velvet box burns a hole in his suitcase. And item no.1 on his list sits idle by, just waiting to be checked.

He knows you’ll say yes, this isn’t a subject you avoid. You’re both aware of what you want in a relationship and you communicate your needs to each other. So you’re both sure that you’re on the same page. The element of surprise lies in the timing and method only.

As he looks at you and his daughter, he knows that this feels right. This is how it is supposed to be.

Okay, he owes Tommy an apology. Because now he understands disgusting, lovesick smiles and the urge to get out of work early. He understands six month anniversaries, because when he’s with you; there isn’t a damn thing he wouldn’t do for the mere chance to make you happy.

A Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy, dreamy little thing.

My Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy, dreamy little thing.

——

A/N : Again, if you’re still here, I love you so much & you made my day <333 pls tell me your thoughts! I write cuz i love doing it but i need to know if i should continue to upload or just let the contents of my delulu brain stay in my phone 🫣

Loon out, luv yaa <33

[thelightsandtheroses]

when the rain washes you clean, you'll know

Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Secrets can’t stay hidden forever, not with these rainy days anyway … Warnings: 18+ blog, MDNI, secret relationship vibes, sexual tension, passing mentions of sexism and work, flangst (is it a lolabee fic without this?), copious references to rainy seasons and rain, poor communication, elements of rivalry if you squint maybe? Notes: This is my entry for the very lovely @undercoverpena’s April Showers challenge and I would like to thank this event for giving me some Javi P inspo. The fic title is from the brilliant Fleetwood Mac Dreams. Word Count: 2.7k

April brings the rain in Bogotá. You hear that in Cartagena, they get an extra month of dryness, but you’ve never minded water. You’re used to it.

If you were at your apartment now; with rain pitter pattering against glass windows, steaming coffee in your cup and a whole evening away from the office ahead of you, it would be better, you’d enjoy this moment. Instead, you’re desperately searching your handbag in the vain hope that this time around you will find an umbrella.

The embassy has a few umbrellas near the entrances and exits, but these have already been purloined by people leaving work before you. That will teach you to work late, to try and impress Messina again in vain.

This job isn’t what you expected. You wanted to expand your horizons, to do something wild and reckless with your life while you could. It seemed sensible to do this now, before mortgages and future commitments and expectations made it too difficult to be spontaneous.

The post in Colombia, working for Claudia Messina, seemed like a perfect opportunity. When you were told about it, all you could think was how it would certainly be a change from your small-town world and to learn from a woman rising in a male-dominated field was a dream, as well as a chance to stop the bad guys? You said yes almost automatically.

The reality is different to the images you’d let run wild in your mind. You’re not an active agent, you’re mostly doing translations, paperwork and shadowing Messina. The DEA’s office is dark and dank, illuminated by artificial bulbs and full of cigarette smoke. Your apartment is small and loud. Work takes so much of your time that you feel like you never explore this beautiful country or city and now it’s the wet season.

You feel like your adventure hasn’t yet started. It’s been weeks since you moved here and despite your best intentions, this isn’t what you had hoped for.

“Where are you parked?” a voice asks softly behind you. You turn around and see Agent Javier Peña - the source of most of your late nights of work as you try and untangle his messes or work on a better case for Messina to present.

When you had first joined the DEA office, one of the women in the office had taken you under her wing and shared the gossip and news about all of your new colleagues. She told you that Agent Peña has been in Colombia for years though, longer than most of the other active DEA agents.

He has a reputation. It’s all she’s needed to say to you about him.

Your few conversations with Javier have been professional, concise and fine. You’ve tried to notice his smile, the way he slightly changes his voice when he speaks to you, or any women. You refuse to be a notch in an already impressive bedpost, or to be the woman people talk about.

He might have a reputation, but from what you’ve heard, he’s one of the ‘good guys’. It lowers your guard; lets you point vaguely in the direction of your car. Javier smiles.

It’s a good smile. You can understand the rumours with a smile like that.

“We haven’t met, have we? I’m Javi” Five words. It takes only five words for Javier Peña to ruin everything. “I’d definitely remember seeing someone like you. Which uh, office are you in?”

You stand stonily silent, listening to the water running off the umbrella. Javier looks at you, brow furrowed as you extend the silence.

The rain does sound beautiful.

You open your car door and get in. Part of you wants to leave Javier right there, standing dumbfounded in the rain, his clothes getting damper by the second, the rain pouring over his stupid umbrella.

“I work for Messina, Peña, in the same damn office,” you say finally before slamming the door shut and starting your car engine.

“You changed your hair,” he says, hands on his hips defensively as he stands over your desk. “What’s your problem, Agent Peña?” “You changed your hair, that’s why I didn’t recognise you.” “Right.” You’re proud you manage to avoid physically rolling your eyes at his excuses. “It’s true,” he argues, shifting his position slightly. “Uh huh.” You remember that Colleen has boasted about him noticing her damn nail varnish so this feels weak at best so this hardly feels plausible, but as you look up you notice that Javi appears genuinely disturbed at your reaction. You take in his appearance further, now he’s not at the end of another busy day, isn’t fighting away rain in a damp suit and shirt, with curls peeking through his hair. Today he’s wearing a white shirt with a black pattern on it, his hair slightly scruffy, but moustache carefully sculpted. He smells like cologne and cigarettes. Sweet, woody notes trying to mask smoke and drawing you in like a siren’s song. “Look, this has been … delightful, but do excuse me, Agent Peña,” you say coolly, focusing on each syllable of his surname because you at least remember his name, at least you remember meeting him before yesterday. “I need to get back to work.” “Oh, well, please don’t let me keep you,” Javi replies with a sardonic tone, one eyebrow raised and his arms folded. “I shan’t.” You don’t move. “Must be very important work,” he says pleasantly, a slight smirk at your lack of movement. “Well, someone has to actually work around here,” you reply sweetly.

You don’t need to be a special agent to know that everybody has secrets. It’s a fact of life. There will always be things we keep from others, especially at work. Most of them will be mild and harmless, but some of them won’t be. It’s a constant.

There’s a reliability to this idea that perhaps you’re never getting the true person in front of you; just the shiny version that they want to project, the one that masks all the little secrets like they can’t quit smoking, or they drink milk straight from the carton.

It’s you too. You have a secret.

Your secret is wearing a light blue shirt today. Your secret is walking down the hallway arguing with his colleague. Your secret is the smell of cigarette smoke, whispered words and so much heat.

Your secret now is Agent Javier Peña.

He’s been your secret for weeks; weeks since the teasing banter developed into something else, to lingering touches, to kisses that you need like breathing and hands that map your body in a way you can hardly describe. You spent the month break from rainstorms in between yours and Javi’s apartments under the cover of night and cloud. Now it’s raining again, the wet season truly living up to its name.

Down in the DEA office, you can’t hear or see the rain outside. The windowless, dimly lit basement is a world away from the bustle of Bogota’s streets, yet somehow still is damp. Colombia’s wetness permeates through poorly maintained vents, through wet umbrellas in the bucket by the office door that hint at a world outside.

Steve and Javier are arguing. It’s not subtle, not a quiet disagreement between colleagues. It’s hands on hips, hands in the air, shaking heads and barely concealed curse words.

Maybe you should say something.

Or maybe not.

You try and return to your paperwork and the steaming mug of coffee you’ve been anticipating ever since your morning cup. There’s a coffee shop a few steps from your apartment building and you’ve finally convinced them to sell you some of their coffee blend. It’s not quite the same, but it’s close.

You think of breakfast this morning. The ghost of Javi’s lips on yours.

There’s a noise, a clearing of a throat and you look up to see Steve and Javi standing in front of your desk.

“Messina’s in meetings until five.”

“I know,” Javi says.

“It’s you, we want to speak to.”

You raise an eyebrow. Whatever this is between you and Javi relies on the two of you barely acknowledging one another in the office.

“You’re fluent in Spanish, right?” Steve asks directly.

You nod, still perplexed at how Steve’s Spanish is . “Why?”

“Firearm trained? You’re not just a desk jockey, right? You’re qualified?”

“Came third in my class.” You may have been a little higher if not for a terrible argument with your parents two days before your final exam. It hadn’t been your finest hour. You still carry it with you in every awkward phone call, every stilted letter home.

“Okay. That’s good. So, I don’t see the problem, Javi.”

“She came third. Who came first?’

“Really?” you ask incredulously, hurt and anger raging. How fucking dare he? You’ve told him about how hard it is to be taken seriously in the department, how the sexist roots prevail even with Messina in charge. Institutions can’t change overnight - they need people like you to fight them. Javi had emphasised, talked about his own barriers, the presumptions people had from his surname, his heritage.

He has the decency to look away, eyes abashed and fixated on the floor. Good, you think, that’s the very least he could do.

“I can get one of my informants -” No, you think, no, not one of Javi’s informants. You’ll do it, whatever Steve needs, surely you can do it instead?

“What do you need, Steve?”

This morning feels a world away now, but you let the memory take you away from this moment, from Javi’s inscrutable look when you said yes to Steve, from the fact you’re doing something this brave, this dangerous. You remember the coffee on the stove, its rich aroma seeping through the room as you wander out of Javi’s bedroom. Hands behind, wrapping around your wait and turning you around to meet his kiss. His hands move down your nightdress, teasing at the lacy hem as he moves them underneath. Laughing between kisses. “It’s raining,” you say. “I noticed,” he teases, tracing kisses down to your neck and then back up your jaw. “I think of you when it rains.” “Oh, yeah?” Javi stops for a second and looks at you quizzically. “Of how we got talking, of how we got from there, in that moment to here.” “Well ,I’ve never been more grateful to be caught in the rain.”

You’re starting to wonder if there was ever a time in Colombia that it wasn’t raining. The stormy clouds add to the greyness and foreboding of the street you’re currently parked in.

“Don’t,” Javi says quietly, the rain hitting the car windows and roof, echoing loudly around you. “Please don’t do this.”

You chance a look at him. “Do you not believe I can do this?” you ask, the concealed firearm heavy on your side, the wire Javi had put on feeling all to visible to you. He’d swallowed as he did it, featherlight fingers trying not to linger, you wondered if he was also trying not to default to the usual way he’d touch you.

“Oh, baby, I know you can.” Javi swallows. “But I want to be selfish and tell you not to do this. This isn’t a game, it’s not a drill -”

“I know that. I’ve been through the same training -”

“It’s different. You’ve not seen what I’ve seen.”

“I can handle it,” you reply simply.

“I don’t want you to.”

“Don’t be a sexist.”

“Don’t be so naive then, goddammit!”

“I’ve read the reports, studied the intel. I am not some naive ingenue here, Javi, fuck you for saying that. You made out I was stupid earlier, like I was some -”

“I’m sorry.” You can hear the apology is genuine.

You don’t reply, letting the rain speak for you instead. If you’re honest, you are nervous. This is your first undercover assignment and is so beyond the comfort and safety provided by your windowless desk.

It’s the job though, it’s what is needed.

“I’ve got this, Javi, whether or not you believe in me,”

“I do believe in you. I am sorry. I just - I don’t like it out here. I don’t like me out here, I don’t like who I am or who I become and I don’t - you’re still you. That’s part of what I love about you.”

You raise an eyebrow, meet Javi’s gaze. “Love, huh?”

You expect him to walk his words back, to huff or not say a word. He just shrugs.

“You ready?” Steve asks through the walkie talkie.

You nod before catching yourself, pressing the button and saying, “Yes, yeah, I’m ready and in position.”

“Okay, keep it to what we agreed, nothing else and keep it quick.”

Next to you, Javi looks at you pointedly, reinforcing Steve’s words.

“Understood,” you say and you can’t help but chance a smile at Javi as you unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car.

Rain hitting your skin.

Your heart’s racing, it’s so loud you can feel it in your ears. The incessant beating and drumming of adrenaline coursing through your body.

You should be cold, but you’re not. Not as they load them into the van, as Steve pats you on the back to congratulate you on a job well done.

You wish your undercover persona was the type of woman who wore a coat on a rainy night. You wrap your arms around yourself.

You can still hear the gunshot. The shouts.

There’s a weight on your shoulder, the scent of cologne, cigarettes … Javi permeating through your haze.

He stands next to you, leaning against the wall, a lit cigarette between his fingers.

“I’m fine,” you say urgently.

“I know.”

“It’s just … a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“I thought they had made me towards the end.”

Javi pauses, taking a long drag of his cigarette before offering you it. You accept it with surprisingly shaky hands.

“I did too,” he admits in a low voice.

“But they didn’t.”

“They didn’t.” Javi pauses. “You did great.”

“You haven’t.”

“I haven’t, what?” he asks playfully, turning to face you. In the dim streetlight, you notice each feature of his face, how it’s illuminated in yellow light and how deep brown his eyes really are. His brow is furrowed, hair slightly dishevelled in the way you normally associate with a good night, but you know from his bad days in the office is from running his hand through his hair too many times.

“Changed,” you say. “You said you don’t like who you become, but you’re you, Javi. I like you. All of you.”

“You say shit like that, I’m going to end up kissing you right here.”

“Dare you,” you tease.

He smirks. “I would,” he replies in a low voice.

“It’d be romantic, with the rain and all. Maybe less so with our colleagues around though. ”

“Is that what you want?”

“Do you?” It’s the first time the two of you have broached this subject. For months, you’ve existed in peace with the parts of Javi he can give you out of an assumption that was all that he could offer. Today seems to have changed things though.

Javi swallows.

“Take away the job, or who you’re hunting, take it all away for a moment. Would you want - would you want to be with me like that?”

“If we were in Texas, if none of this was going on, then nothing would stop me.”

“I’ve never been to Texas,” you muse.

“When this is over, we can go,” Javi says and the vulnerability in his eyes is so alien.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Looks like it’s still raining,” Javi says, noticing your attention at the view outside.

“Yep,” you say, “I suppose we should head back to everyone else, right? Finish the paperwork?”

“I didn’t say it this morning, but I think of you too. When it rains, I always think of you.”

Tag List

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

[jolalibrary]

April Showers Challenge 

[noun: in parts of the northern hemi, an april shower is rain during the month of april]

for this little challenge, we want it to rain! so, all you have to do is write a story (minimum word count 500), create a moodboard, gif or art where it is raining / rain is present (that is a must!). 

below, i've found some prompts if you want or need, but creativity is all up to you. the only condition for the story is that it must be raining and must include at least ONE pedro pascal character (no rpf pls). how you interpret that is up to you <winks>  

[I’ve wanted to do this for an impossibly long time (and we all know how much i love writing about the rain) but the most important thing here is to have fun. if it becomes stressful, please don't force yourself to post!]

SO, THE CHALLENGE? 

It must include raining in some capacity.

The challenge is open from 1st April to 30th April (ideally 👀, but i'm never going to stop people from posting late)

Your story must include ONE pedro pascal character (or more, if you so wish)

Add appropriate warnings if needed (dubcon/noncon etc) 

Please use hashtag: #UndercoverAprilShowersChallenge (so I can find it for the masterlist) 

OTHER INFO:

⇶ There is no maximum word count. ⇶ You can share MORE THAN ONE creation, but it has to have different characters (muahahhaa) ⇶ A masterlist will be put together at the end.  ⇶ You post your story on your own blog, using your own banner (I’m just kickstarting some fun). 

PROMPTS:

some prompts you can use, but don't feel you must (you can amend to fit your story if you use, also)

⤬ Person gets caught in a rainstorm and gets sick.  ⤬ Both/all parties get caught in the rain.  ⤬ "Kiss me in the rain. Please?" ⤬ First kiss in the rain/forgiving kiss in the rain.  ⤬ Driving in the rain. ⤬ Having a lazy day at home.  ⤬ Childhood friends reunite after years apart, reminiscing about their shared memories while taking a nostalgic walk in the rain. ⤬ Two strangers take shelter together under the same umbrella. ⤬ A couple escapes to a cosy cabin in the woods during a weekend getaway, as the rain drums on the roof.

INSPO

rainy moodboard

[ladamedusoif]

Coup de Foudre

Lucien Flores x F!Reader

Pairing: Lucien Flores x F!Reader

Summary: Storms come down unexpectedly in the heat of the Parisian summer. The only thing you and Lucien can do is make a run for it.

Warnings: Explicit, MDNI - smut central; established relationship; unprotected but safe PiV sex; fingering; no physical description of reader other than her gingham summer dress; alcohol; a soaking wet Lucien Flores is his own warning

A/N: I loved the prompts and inspiration for @undercoverpena’s “April Showers” event and this is the result. Thank you for organising this, Jo! ‘Coup de foudre’ literally means a thunderbolt/lightning strike in French, but has entered idiomatic language (including in English) as a term for an unexpected event - particularly associated with love at first sight.

With thanks to @paulmescal-s for beta-ing ❤️

Word Count: 1192

Follow my writing blog, @ladameecrit and turn on notifications to keep up with my work!

Sheet lightning illuminates the nocturnal city, thunder rumbling almost immediately as the rain intensifies and comes down hard and heavy on your warm skin. In ordinary circumstances, anywhere else, you’d hate being caught in a storm like this. But here, in the hot, humid summer night, Lucien’s big hand gripping yours as you race along glistening streets in the direction of the hotel? There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

Lucien leaps over a puddle, his infectious laughter echoing through the narrow streets as he guides you home. His silk summer shirt is soaked through, the brightly-coloured fabric clinging sinfully to his body in a reminder of the temptation underneath. Your favourite gingham summer dress, meanwhile, has been rendered translucent in the downpour.

Everything will need to come off as soon as you get inside.

***

The water drips from your soaking clothes onto the hotel bedroom carpet as Lucien swiftly retrieves the fluffy, white bathrobes from the closet and hands one to you. His thumb catches a droplet wending its way from your hairline down your cheek, and you lean pleasurably into the caress of his hand against your face before shivering abruptly.

”Out of these wet things, gorgeous, before you catch cold.”

You kiss the greying hair on his handsome jaw and head to the bathroom to change, not wanting to create a puddle on the plush carpet. The gingham pools in a sopping pile on the tiled floor, the thin satin slip you wore underneath now stuck to your skin. You peel it off, exposed in just your bra and panties. The impact of the soaking makes itself felt again as you start to shiver and sneeze.

With a knock on the door, Lucien pops his head into the bathroom. “You okay? Sounded like you were -”

The sight of you stops him in his tracks. Your bra and panties are as soaked as the rest of your clothes, underwear almost see-through, and your bra clinging to your breasts and showing off the firm, pebbled nipples underneath.

“Oh, I… I just got a bit cold. Looks like you’re soaked through as well, Lucien.”

You nod towards the light-coloured summer pants that are now two shades darker and clinging to the strong muscles of his legs. He’s already stripped to the waist, his silk shirt and white undershirt in one hand, the golden chains glistening on his damp chest and his unruly dark hair now slicked back in shiny, damp curls. It is impossible to avoid noticing how the wet fabric of his pants draws attention to his half-hard cock. Clearly, Lucien Flores likes what he sees. And so do you.

You guide him into the bathroom, arms around his neck, and nod your head in the direction of the shower unit in the corner of the room, large enough for two. “You know, I think a nice, hot shower is the perfect way to make sure we don’t catch cold. Don’t you agree?”

Lucien licks his lips as he moves closer to you, nodding in agreement as his eyes rove up and down your damp body. “Everything will need to come off, of course,” he says quietly. With a hum of approval you reach for the waistband of his pants, pulling him tight to you as you unbutton and unzip them. His dark eyes meet yours and he reaches both of his hands up to your face, pulling you in for a deep, warm kiss that halts you in your tracks. “Don’t stop,” he murmurs into your mouth.

The soaking fabric gathers at his ankles and he steps out of them, still not breaking the kiss. Long, thick fingers explore your body, reaching around you to remove your bra and expose the damp, soft flesh of your tits. Your hand teases at his boxer briefs as he moans into your mouth.

”These are soaked, too,” you purr, as Lucien tugs at the fabric of your panties.

“So are these, baby.” He presses a finger to the cotton covering your most intimate parts and chuckles. “And I don’t think it’s just the rain that has them wet.”

With a smirk you break away, reaching into the shower to get the water running. Leaning in to adjust the temperature, you feel Lucien’s presence behind you. Two broad hands on your hips, gently but purposefully caressing the damp flesh. He works the last bit of wet fabric off you and leaves you bare.

“Look at me, gorgeous girl.” He pulls you tight to him, strong arms holding you in place, as you quickly pull down his boxers and grin at the sight of his hard cock springing free. It throbs against your body, a delicious vibration and foretaste of what’s ahead. You run your hand over his cock as you guide him into the warm steam of the shower, taking great pleasure in the needy groans you coax from him. But Lucien can, as you’d learned from the start, give as good as he gets. With one hand on your wet breast he slips his fingers between your legs, dragging them along your dripping folds as you cry out under the shower.

“I don’t want to help you dry off here,” he murmurs into the crook of your neck as his middle finger teases your pussy. One - then two - and then three thick digits slide inside your cunt, stretching you for him even though he knows you can take it without much preparation.

You’re ready. He can tell. But he wants to hear you ask for it.

“Words, darling.”

“Please, Lucien,” you gasp, stretched out on the fingers he’s fucking in and out of you. “Need you to fuck me now. Need you inside me now.”

He withdraws his fingers and trails them over your lips, watching with wanton but affectionate pleasure as you taste yourself. Another kiss, the droplets of the rainfall shower pouring over your faces as you slip your tongue into his mouth.

“Okay. Turn round,” he instructs. He positions your body carefully: facing one tiled wall as he shifts your hips into position.

It takes almost no effort whatsoever for him to bury himself inside you. Even Lucien seems taken by surprise, exhaling sharply as he bottoms out. His right hand covers yours, fingers splayed together on the tiled wall, his other hand holding your left hip firmly as he fucks you. The little gold medallion that dangles from his chain beats a steady rhythm against your body as he takes you, hard and deep. The water rolls down his gorgeous body and drips onto yours, bringing you ever closer to your first orgasm. His magic hands already have you near the edge, two fingers rubbing firm circles over your swollen clit. The groans and exclamations he makes suggest that Lucien is not far behind you.

It’s the pretty little noises you make when he fucks you that tip him over. His rhythm changes, and the sound of your voices blends with that of the storm still hammering the windows as you come, hard, together.

***

Sated, dried off, and wrapped in warm fluffy bathrobes, Lucien orders two whiskies to the room and joins you on the bed. He kisses your damp hair, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he clinks his cut-glass tumbler to yours.

“What are we drinking to?”

He hums happily and reclines on the stack of plump hotel pillows, closing his eyes as he listens to the rain still falling, more gently now.

“To stormy weather.”

[604to647]

Sugar Drop (a Mi Galleta one-shot)

3.3K / Modern AU Grumpy Bouncer!Pero Tovar x Sunshine-Rich Girl!reader

Summary: You’ve been dating Pero for several weeks - have you made a mistake in assuming the two of you are exclusive?

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Newly dating relationship, some angst and insecurity (if you've read the series, you know our reader has a tendency to assume the worst), fingering (semi public), mention of oral (m receiving).

A/N: I wrote this for @undercoverpena’s April Showers Challenge - please use #undercoveraprilshowerschallenge to see all the other wonderful works! I'm so nervous because this is the first time I've ever participated in a writing challenge 🫣 The story was written as part of the Mi Galleta AU and takes place early on in Part 3 after Pero and reader start to date. While I would love for people to read Mi Galleta, I don't think it's necessary to read this? Just know that Pero works as the downstairs bouncer of a high-end restaurant and he rides a bike🥵🏍️

“Keep your eyes open, Cookie.”

Your eyes snap open at Pero’s words, followed by a slower opening of your plush mouth into an oh shape before you let out a whimper.

He’s working you open so deftly with just two of his fingers, it’s a wonder you’re not crying out obscenities and pleading to come.  But you have to stay quiet; you are, after all, at Pero’s place of work.  You and your friends had come to Lin for dinner and Pero had not only looked fucking delicious when you arrived, he had then been so damn teasing palming your ass as he walked you, Eloise and Dorothy to the elevator, you hadn’t been able to wait until after dinner to see him again.

In between appetizers and the main course, you used the pretense of bringing a drink to him as an excuse to visit with Pero while he worked.  The majority of the dinner rush now over, Pero had welcomed your company, pulling you into his lap and burying his face in your neck; the soda water you brought him forgotten on the side of his desk.

If memory served him correctly, he could expect roughly 20 more minutes before any late seating diners would start to show; it was less time than you deserved, but Pero would make do with what he was given.  Perching you on the edge of the desk and facing you away from the front doors, he remains sitting in his chair, eyes trained forward to see if anyone approaches to enter the lobby.  His fingers dance up your thighs past the hemline of your dress and trail straight to the front of your panties where he finds you wet and wanting.

“So wet already, princesa?  Is this for me?”

Biting down on your lip, you nod and let loose a soft whine, “Yes, Pero… all for you.”

Eyes darkening, Pero teases you merciless over the fabric before pushing it aside and thrusting in two fingers, taking your quiet gasps and shortened breaths as encouragement.  Scissoring you open before adding a third finger, he stretches you to the brink and touches that part of you only he can.  Just when you start to feel a familiar slow winding of the coil beneath your belly, Pero presses his thumb to your slippery clit and begins to write his name; your back arches, ascent now accelerated.  Pero needs only to repeat the cursive script of his signature three times before you’re shuddering, legs shaking and threatening to slip out from under you.

Pero holds your thigh firm with his free hand as he speeds up his fingers, “I got you, Cookie.  Let go and come for me.”  And you do.

As you take a minute to catch your breath and regain the use of your legs, you watch dreamily as Pero pops his slick covered fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean with a shit eating grin, “Always so sweet, hermosa.”

Tucking you under his chin, Pero walks you to the elevator and lets you go with a sweet kiss and the promise that he’ll see you when you're done dinner, then again when he comes over after he gets off at 10:00.  You think you hear the front door of the lobby open, and regretfully, Pero heads back to his desk before the elevator doors close.

After straightening up your dress and checking your make up in the elevator mirror on the ride up, you nearly crash into a girl who barrels into the elevator the second the doors open.  She barely acknowledges when you excuse yourself then maneuver out of her way before making it back to your table.

Eloise points to your five-spice crusted pork medallion, “Your dinner just came.”

With the most diabolical smile to ever grace her lips, Dorothy chimes in, “… as did you?”  You swat her on the arm with your purse before the three of you burst out laughing, and you start to dig in to your dish - it’s delicious, a contender for your top 5 favourites at the restaurant for sure.

The three of you have been happily eating for less than ten minutes when the girl that almost mowed you over in the elevator comes back to the table that’s right next to yours.  As she sits, her friends all lean in expectantly, and one of them asks excitedly, “So???!”

She smiles, triumphant, “His name is Pero Tovar, he gets off work at 10:00, and that’s when I’m going to suck his dick.”  Her friends squeal and high five her as she sits looking excited and smug.

You put your utensils down in shock and look up at your friends to make sure they heard the same thing you did; their stunned faces indicate that they did.

Suddenly, your appetite is gone.  Eloise places her hand on yours, “Babe, that doesn’t mean…” but even she is unsure how to finish her sentence; you just look at her and shake your head lightly to thank her for trying, but you’re trying very hard not to cry.

You and Pero have only been seeing each other for a few weeks, and while things have been moving rather quickly, they've been going quite well - or so you thought.  Up until now, you haven’t given it much thought, but now you realize that the two of you haven’t had any talks regarding exclusivity.  Although you’re not interested in seeing other people and as much as it stings to admit, it would be completely within Pero's rights to see other people.  Or even just hook up with them, you suppose, chest tightening as the girl at the next table continues to express how hot Pero is and how she can’t wait to see him later.

Dorothy calls for the cheque quickly, and while you wait, you feel your cheeks flush.  It would be one thing to see other people, but it’s really quite another to make plans to mess around with some girl at the restaurant while you’re still here.  And right after he had his hand buried in your cunt.  You’re humiliated.  You suddenly wonder if he does this every night with a never-ending parade of paramours from the restaurant, of which you’re just one.  That’s when the first tear falls.

“Oh babe, don’t cry,” says Eloise soothingly, putting her arm around you.  Dorothy hastily pays the bill and the three of you stand abruptly, leaving you half finished dinners behind.

“I’m calling for a car,” announces Dorothy as you wait for the elevator; you feel your stomach churn at the idea of having to walk through the scene of your recent exploits.  Tears of shame spring from your eyes; you never would have done that with Pero, if you had known you were just the first (and of that, you’re not even sure) of his many conquests tonight.

Pero is surprised to see via the security camera dashboard that you and your friends are coming down as it’s earlier than he had expected you.  He hopes no one is unwell.  When the elevator dings, he stands to meet you, but to his surprise, you and your friends rush past him; Eloise has her arm around you and Dorothy makes sure to stand between you and him.  It had started to rain heavily and none of you have umbrellas; Pero keeps a few behind the desk and goes to offer them to your group, hoping as well that you’ll slow down enough to talk to him, “Hey-”

Dorothy spins around with blinding speed and just says Don’t definitively and with finality.  Pero is stunned.  He watches as Eloise holds her jacket over the two of you to shield you from the rain before climbing into a waiting car.  Briefly, he catches a glimpse of your face before the car door closes and his chest constricts when he sees your sad expression and tear-stained cheeks. 

He immediately texts you: Cookie, are you okay?  What’s wrong? And he’s confused and worried when you don’t answer.

---

You have a good cry in the car and by the time the car reaches your place, you’re tired out.  Dorothy and Eloise come in and help you finish a bottle of wine before you send them home; you tell them the truth – you want to go to bed.  You don’t want to be anywhere near awake when 10 pm rolls around; if you are, you know all you’ll do is spiral imagining what Pero’s doing at that time.  After getting ready for bed and snuggling in, you open your book hoping it will help you drift off, but the heavy rain beating against your windows provides enough of a white noise calm that you’re quickly lulled into the sleep you so desire.

---

Pero cannot fucking sit still.  At ten to 10:00, he decides to throw in the towel.  It won’t make a difference if he leaves 10 minutes early; all the late seating diners have been seated and there’s no need for the front desk to be occupied when the restaurant closes.  He can’t stop thinking about you how sad you had looked when you left earlier, very clearly upset by something; it pains him to see you being anything other than your usual cheerful self.  Having made up his mind, Pero forgoes the time it would take to switch out his dress clothes and just grabs his helmet out of his backpack and beelines for his bike.  So hell bent on getting to you, he doesn’t even register the torrential downpour until he has to repeatedly wipe his visor before he even starts the ignition.  Fuck. He had planned to throw caution to the wind and speed all the way to your apartment, but now that plan is shot.  He can’t comfort you if he’s laying in a ditch by the side of the road.  He settles for weaving through the city streets as fast as he can go with risking a wipe out, squinting through the rain that hits his face having long since given up the futile task of wiping off his visor and just leaving it flipped open.  By the time he gets to your apartment, his suit is soaked through, he can't feel his face, and it’s an effort just to take off his waterlogged gloves so he can text you.

Cookie, are you feeling better? 

The engine on his bike cooling under the wet onslaught, Pero sits shivering waiting for your response.

Did you still want me to come over?

Princesa, I can see your light is on.

This last message finally gets a response: You’re here?

Look outside your window, baby.

Having fallen asleep with your light on, you were woken up by the buzzing of Pero’s first message.  After reading his second, you were miserably contemplating whether or not this was his way of asking for an out so he could go home with that other girl, when the notification for the third message scrolls down.

You pad over to your window and look down to the street.  It’s dark and the rain is coming down in sheets, but you can just make out a striking figure illuminated by a street lamp sitting on his bike and looking up at you.

He’s going to catch pneumonia.

Looking at your phone again, you’re surprised by the time - it’s only quarter after 10:00.  Either that was the world’s fastest blow job or… Pero had teleported here; judging by the look of his soaked clothes, you would say not.  As you stand there, confused, your phone starts to ring.

“Pero?”

“Cookie, are you okay?  Can I come up?” 

You can hear his teeth chattering.  Despite the turmoil you feel, you’re not totally unfeeling towards him and you definitely don’t think it’s a good idea for Pero to be outside in the rain a minute longer.  The best thing for right now would be for him to get dry; the two of you can deal with the rest separately.

As soon as he steps through your front door, Pero mumbles an apology about dripping water everywhere, but you don’t even hear him through your fog of devastation – you approach him wordlessly, and as if on autopilot, start to take off his wet clothes.  Pero removes his helmet and tips your face up to meet his eyes, “Cookie, what happened tonight?”

You thought you were all cried out, but the tears that well up and spill over your lash line prove you wrong.  You hadn’t even considered the possibility that you would have to confront Pero tonight; you need time to think and his soft eyes and honey-laced baritone voice aren’t helping.  Lowering your gaze and crying softly, you simply shake your head, “Let’s just get you out of these wet things.  Don’t want you to get sick.”

Pero lets you undress him, seeing that for the moment you prefer to focus on the mundane task.  He lets you take off his soaked through suit jacket and loosen and lift his tie over his head.  He watches you chew your bottom lip as you slowly unbutton his dress shirt and cuffs, then unbuckle his belt and peel off his pants and socks.  You take all his wet things to the bathroom, and return to lead him, nearly naked, to your couch where you drape a warm blanket over his shoulders before straddling his lap and burying your face into the nook under his jaw, still sniffling.

All Pero can do is wrap you up in his arms and under the blanket with him, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back soothingly until you’re ready to face him again.

Your body feels warm and safe pressed up against Pero’s solid bare chest with his arms encircled protectively around you, but your heart still feels restless. 

After what feels like forever, you push yourself off of Pero’s chest and positioning yourself to face him, you say very quietly without meeting his eye, “Pero, were you with someone else tonight?”

If it were not for the distressed look on your face, and the unusual way you’re holding yourself so small, Pero would have thought you were making a joke and laughed.  He can’t quite figure out what would prompt you to ask such a ridiculous question.

Not sure how to interpret Pero’s silence, you press on voice shaky, “If you were… I mean, I couldn’t really say anything about it.”  You toy nervously with the hem of your sleep shorts, “You haven’t made me promises or anything, so you’re free to do what you want.”  Your voice breaks a little at the end of your sentence and Pero’s heart plummets into his stomach.

Tipping your chin to finally look up at him, he tilts his head and tries to soften his usually hard countenance, “Princesa, what could I possibly want except to be with you?”

You try to shift your gaze away, but Pero won’t have any of that. He gently cups your face in his still freezing hands, willing you to hear his words, “There’s no one else, Cookie.  Never has been.  There’s only you and there will only ever be you.  I don’t want anyone else.”

You smile a little at these sweet words so he continues, “Why would I?  Look at you, beautiful and sweet even when you’re sad.  I’ve hurt you somehow tonight, and still you take care of me.” His thumbs continue to lovingly stroke the side of your face.

“There’s no one kinder and more considerate.  I’m too lucky, hermosa, and I hope I never mess this up.”  He places the gentlest, most precious kiss to your lips.

You snuggle into his neck again feeling a little lighter, and murmur, “Didn’t want you to get sick.  You’re so grumpy when you’re sick.”  Pero can’t help but lightly chuckle as his holds you tighter.

When your breathing eventually evens from him softly petting your hair, Pero asks, “Can I ask what happened tonight?  Did you really think I was with someone else?”

After giving him a slightly awkward shrug and nod, you hear Pero make a questioning hmmm in the back of his throat.  You sigh, “There was a girl at the restaurant bragging that she was going to blow you tonight.”  Pero furrows his brow in confusion at this, not only at having no idea what would possess any girl that isn’t you to make such a proclamation, but that you would believe it.  When he expresses this to you, you feel minorly irritated, huffing, “She knew your full name and what time you got off work!  And she said she made the plans with you after I saw her go down to the lobby when I went up.”

Something minorly familiar tugs at the corner of Pero’s mind: after he had sent you upstairs, he had almost immediately let in a table of five using the second elevator, then left to have a chat with William in the staff elevator alcove in the opposite corner of the lobby.  When he got back to his desk, there had been a girl waiting; recognizing her as a patron that had already been dining upstairs, he figured she had come down and gotten locked out by accident.  He had wordlessly gestured for her to follow him to the elevator before swiping his fob and sending her back upstairs again.  The whole interaction had been less than a minute.

When he describes what he remembers of the girl, you confirm she’s one and the same. “Princesa, my name is on the lockscreen of my computer, and she must have overheard me talking to William about when I was leaving.”  You look at him with a raised eyebrow, but it’s not in any serious way; you’ve already decided you believed him.

“I can prove it, hermosa.  There are security cameras for the elevator bank and the lobby, with sound.  I’ll pull those up for you and show you.”

You shake your head lightly, smiling, “It’s okay, that’s not necessary – I believe you, Pero.”

“Maybe I should still give Dorothy the tapes.  I feel like she would say that hard proof is necessary.”

Laughing at how well Pero knows your friends, you tuck yourself back into Pero’s arms, now feeling somewhat silly and bashful at having gotten so upset over what turned out to be nothing.

“And what would you have done if she came down at 10:00 and offered herself to you?” you smile into Pero’s shoulder.

“I would have told her I was spoken for,” Pero say very softly, “I’m sorry that you were upset tonight, Cookie.  I take it this is your way of telling me you don’t want me seeing anyone else?”

Shaking your head, you bring your hand up to Pero’s face and lightly scratch his scruff that you love so much, “No, I don’t want you to see anyone else, Pero.”

“Good,” Pero’s voice drops to that husky register that goes straight to your panties every time, “I don’t want you seeing anyone else either, princesa.”  And then he kisses you, fully and passionately.  Tongue begging for entry, you grant him access as you adjust yourself on his lap so that the two you can entangle your arms around each other.  Pero licks into you immediately and with such a hunger that all you can do is gasp and swallow him with a groan.  Your hands feel hot and soft as they map the expanse of his bare chest and strong arms; Pero’s hands reach to roam your backside, groping and pulling you even closer to him.

Suddenly, you pull away, having made a shocking realization, “Pero!! There are security cameras in the lobby?? Can they see behind the desk?”

Laughing, Pero reassures you, “I’ll delete the footage, Cookie, don’t worry.”

Threading your hands through his hair, you bite your bottom lip, shy, “Do you think you could get me a copy before you delete it?”

Smirking and nodding, Pero pulls you back onto his lips and growls, “Dirty girl,” as you squirm in his lap with delight.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

into you

Summary: After almost giving up the hope to become a big actor you get offered the leading role in a period drama, leaving you to spend three months in Scotland with your male co star Dieter Bravo and maybe falling in love with him.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.247

Rating: T

Warnings: fluff, falling in love, implied smut, kissing, really cheesy movie lines I made up, confessions of feelings, reader is in her late thirties, Dieter playing the piano

A/N: Another one for  @undercoverpena April showers challenge! What's better than a Pedro character in period clothing in the rain? Making out with him hehe

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You couldn’t sleep. 

The moon was shining hrough the window of your hotel room, an old castle in the middle of nowhere somewhere in Scotland. 

You had come here almost three months ago, having gotten the first big job of your career, the lead role in a period drama. The first lead role you ever got. The first big job you ever got. 

For years you dreamed of being a big movie star. 

Much like every young person who came to LA. 

Which had been almost twenty years ago. You had been about to quit trying for that one big role that would finally grant your your big success last year. 

By now well in your thirties (the forties getting closer and closer), not having any major success apart from some multi episode secondary character on some netflix shows in the latest years, you gave up hope that you would make it. 

Sometimes the residuals you got from playing Chandler Bing’s awkward girlfriend for two episodes almost twenty years ago on friends had been the only way to pay your rent.

You were looking into going back to school when your agent called you, talking you into going to this last audition. It had been as a favour to them that you agreed, the contracts between you and the agency already canceled towards the end of the month. 

They had always believed in you and you hated saying no to them because of that reason. 

Maybe it was you having nothing to lose that left you going into the audition and blowing them all away. Not that you thought you did until your agent called you not even twenty minutes after you went out of the audition, asking you to come back to read opposite the male lead. 

Still you didn’t let yourself getting your hopes up, walking back into the office building, back into the room you had been in before, now with an additional face smiling warmly at you. 

You didn’t know that in the next two hours your whole life would change. 

Not just because they offered you the job. 

No, It was the day you met Dieter Bravo.

Of course you knew who Dieter Bravo was. 

You had admired him since he starred in the high school drama series you definitely did not tape every episode from when you were in your teens. 

And there had been no posters of him in your room growing up, nope. 

But like almost every teen crush, it faded over the years. 

You grew up, and he did too. You knew he had won an Oscar some years back, you saw the movie in the cinema back then. 

He had made headlines after that, naming him the next big thing. 

But lately the only headlines you remembered of him had been of his drug escapades and dating life. 

So you had been a little reserved when you first met, hoping he would be professional enough throughout the audition. 

Hope you shouldn’t have had, because Dieter had turned out to be professional in every single way.

Now, after spending almost two months with him, playing opposite of him, acting that you were in love with him, you found yourself wishing he would be a little less professional. 

Groaning you sat yourself up in your bed, clicking the lamp on the bedside table on, reaching for your phone. 

2:43 am. 

Taking a deep breath and releasing a long sigh as you exhaled you let your head fall back. 

In twenty four hours you would be on a plane back to the states, already on your way to shoot your next movie, your career seemingly finally starting off now that you were starring in a movie with Dieter Bravo. 

You should be beyond happy. 

Everything you dreamed off finally seemed to come true. You had three jobs lined up that would pay more than you had made in the last ten years combined. 

Yet the thought of waking up every morning and not getting to spend the day with Dieter made it all bittersweet. 

You had spent a lot of time together since getting to Scotland to shoot this movie. Not only on set, but apart from it too. He had been here before, shooting another movie and invited you out some times, showing you around. You had dinner together almost every night be it in an restaurant he wanted to show you or in the hotel. You got to know the man behind the persona you learned he put on for the public for and over the last weeks you had found yourself falling for him. 

Your fingers cam up to brush over your lips, the lips he had kissed. 

More than once. 

In front of the camera. 

But before you went to bed tonight, he walked you to your room and he had kissed you good night. Without cameras rolling. Without people around. Just you and him. His warm hand on your cheek, your back pushed against your hotel room door as he towered over you, his other hand resting on the door behind you. 

You were out of breath when he parted from your lips, wishing you a good night, leaving you watching after him with your lips parted, your brain still trying to process that he had just kissed you, as he went down the hallway until he disappeared into his room. 

You were too giddy to sleep, getting an old sweatshirt on before you grabbed your hotel key and walked out of your room, hoping he was as sleepless as you were and downstairs where you had found him often during your stay. 

You could hear the faint sound of a piano as you entered the lobby, the night manager giving you a small smile as you walked past, following the sound. 

In the far back corner of the lobby was a piano where you found Dieter playing a melody you did not recognise. 

You had found him here before, in the beginning when you could not sleep because you were too nervous to fuck this big chance you got up. 

He told you that his art supplies hadn’t been shipped yet, and that he usually painted when he couldn’t sleep.

And so instead he played. 

And you listened, sitting next to him until you both almost fell asleep, before he walked you to your room, only to be up some hours later to shoot a movie where his character denied to be in love with your character, pushing your character away until a big dramatic scene where you would finally admit your feelings to each other. 

Sitting down on the seat next to him as he played now, you let your head fall against his shoulder, hearing him inhale as he continued to play. 

His lips brushed against your temple and you closed your eyes, just listening to his song. 

When he finished you looked up at him, his eyes were already on you, an unreadable expression on his face. 

„Couldn’t sleep?“ he asked. 

You hummed in agreement. 

„Too many thoughts in my head,“ you whispered and he nodded. One of his arms came to wrap around your back, pulling you closer against his side. 

„You wanna talk about those thoughts?“ he asked and you chuckled. 

„Don’t wanna fuck the big scene up tomorrow, well today,“ you said and he gave you a small smile. 

„If someone is gonna fuck up it’s me. You make me keep forgetting my lines,“ he winked and you felt your cheeks growing warm, remembering the many occasions Dieter had seemingly spaced out during some scenes, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t place. 

„What do you mean?“ You asked, and he sucked his bottom lip in, before he shrugged and there it was again, that expression in his face, his eyes big as he looked at you. 

„I can’t stop looking at you. You’re so talented and beautiful and kind and so damn intelligent. Sexy….,“ he winked „You just blow me away and it’s like my brain stops working when I look at you sometimes. I never really felt like this before…“ he whispered and you blinked at him. 

„What I am trying to say is, I like spending time with you. I like talking to you. I like kissing you, touching you,“ he grinned and you huffed. 

„Especially when it’s just the two of us. Last week when the director called cut when we were in bed….“ He closed his eyes, shaking his head. 

You had rushed off after finishing the scene with him, having to take care of the ache between your legs in the bathroom after spending almost six hours in bed with him, shooting numerous sex scenes.

„I wish we had been alone,“ he whispered his face getting closer to yours, his lips brushing over yours. 

„Dieter,“ you whispered, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his lips pressing against yours and you shivered. 

„Yeah?“ He asked. 

„We are alone now,“ you whispered and he nodded, before he kissed you again, deeply. 

„Would you like to have sex with me?“ He whispered and your lips twitched into a grin which he mirrored before he kissed you again. 

„Take me to your room, Dieter,“ you said, giggling when you found yourself pulled in the direction of the elevators in the next moment. 

„This is madness,“ you shook your head, the rain coming down on you without mercy, drenching your many layers of clothes. 

„Why? Why is it madness that I have fallen for you?“ Dieter asked, in character, his white shirt clinging to his chest. 

You huffed a laugh, your character in denial about the feelings not only she had, but he had too. 

„Because we are both engaged. And not to each other. We have to end this. I have to….“ You shook your head, closing your eyes, before you looked up at him. Dieter having closed the distance between the two of you, but not close enough to touch. The raindrops where running down his nose, his hair clinging to his face. 

He looked like a wet dream straight out of a Jane Austen novel.

„All these times we spend in each others arms, they don’t mean anything to you?“ He asked. 

„It was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened,“ you said, Dieter’s character seeing right through your lie. 

„Do you love me?“ He asked and you did not have to play the small smile that sneaked to your lips for only a moment before you fought it down. 

„It doesn’t matter,“ you said, turning away from him, but his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you before you could go. 

„It matters to me. ,“ he whispered, broken, and the tone of his voice made you want to cry. 

The rain continued to fall as you gave the camera time to capture both of your faces. 

„Of course I love you,“ you finally said, looking at him over your shoulder. 

„Then stay,“ he pleaded. You began to shake your head, when he pulled you against his chest, one of his hands on your cheek, brushing your hair that stuck to your face to the side, his eyes gazing deeply into yours. 

„Stay and allow yourself to be happy,“ he said, almost begging. 

„Stay here and let me love you,“ he let his forehead fall against yours and your eyes dropped close, pictures of the night he had spend with you filling your mind, the way his forehead had rested against yours as he filled you over and over and…

You opened your eyes and Dieter’s lip twitched for a second, having caught your unintended pause.

„What about our families?“ you asked, „What about my sister? She’s in your house getting ready to marry you today,“ you asked. 

„They will understand. They have to. And if they don’t, I’ll take you away where we can live our life without the judgement of others. You’ll never have to worry for money.I love you, please be with me,“ his nose brushed against yours. 

You felt his other hand on your lower back and you gasped. 

„Then take me away,“ you whispered, feeling his smile against your lips as he finally kissed you, your arms wrapping around his broad back, fingertips brushing over his drenched clothes as he deepened the kiss. 

The first thing you realised when Dieter parted from your lips was that the rain had stopped and that it was quiet around you. Too quiet. 

Looking at Dieter he gave you a sheepish smile before you looked around, finding the crew around you looking at the both of you, Dieter’s PA holding two robes in his arms, giving you a wide smile. 

„You gonna listen when I call cut now?“ The director teased with a wide grin and you let your head fall against Dieter’s chest, mortified, but he just chuckled, before he helped you get into the robe his PA had brought over. 

„We’ll meet in an hour for the wedding scene, do not be late,“ the director reminded everyone, giving you and Dieter a longer look, and you nodded. Dieter grabbed your hand, and you looked at him. 

„Can’t wait to marry you,“ he winked and kissed you again, before you both were rushed off from the set to get ready. 

And you did actually get married. 

Seven months later.

On a beach. 

In the rain. 

Without any interruptions. 

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Just Breathe: The Dinosaur Diaries - Sticky Situation ✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: This is my contribution to @undercoverpena April Showers Challenge! This was a really fun write, and I loved exploring an AU that is near and dear to my heart 💙 Please consider reblogging or leaving comments if you like this piece ☺️ I expanded and decided to do a little series, so be on the lookout for more parts to this 🥰

Series Summary: After going under the wings of doctor Miller, the hottest paleontologist you’ve ever seen, he takes you on a little adventure as his research assistant. You’ll get more than just knowledge and dinosaurs, you’ll also end up getting the sweet scientist who can’t seem to keep his hands off you.

Chapter Summary: You find yourself in the middle of a sticky situation in the pouring rain, not to mention a large T-Rex stalks the area you’re in. Joel steps in and saves the day, and he’s the best at calming you down.

Pairing: paleontologist! Joel x fem! reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Tags: Fluff, tension, dinosaurs au, Jurassic Park au, kissing, mentions of smut, paleontologist Joel, protective Joel, cute nicknames

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Your heart thunders in your chest, lightning crackling through your spine as you lean against the dented RV. Rain pours down like a raging monsoon, raindrops like glass cutting into your skin as you shutter in your drenched sweater. You have no breath, no words in your constricted throat as your eyes stay wide, sheer terror coursing through your veins.

“Don’t move,” Joel whispers as he slips his hand around your wrist, his calloused fingers burning through your skin as the heat of his touch makes you feel a little less like you’re on thin ice.

His movements are slow, steady, composed as he pushes his broad back into your chest, his large frame towering over you as he covers you from view. From the large, starving T-Rex that stands mere inches from your face.

You feel its breath, its slimy drool as it dips its massive head and sniffs for its prey. Which is you. You are the prey, and it’s your own damn fault for going outside when it was dark. You knew it wasn’t safe. You knew. Joel warned you. Why didn’t you just listen?

The dinosaur's leathery skin collides against yours, just barely skimming its scratchy body against the surface of your arm as it lifts its head and lets out the loudest roar you’ve ever heard in your life.

Joel squeezes your hand and presses a little closer as he turns his head carefully and whispers against the shell of your ear. “Stay calm. It’ll go away as long as you're silent. Focus for me, sweetheart. Breathe,” he whispers gently against your skin as you feel his plush lips graze against yours, his pine scent filling your senses as it automatically calms your panicked body.

“Joel,” you whisper out terrified, your mouth brushing against his jawline where his soft salt-and-pepper scruff sits, the area you so hungrily lapped against earlier as he had you pinned against the little wooden table in the vehicle, rutting deep inside you as he painted you shades of white between your sticky thighs.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just stay put, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna let anything happen to you,” he says adamantly as his deep, gravelly voice soothes every aching bone in your body.

Your foot catches on the side of a slippery rock and you freeze as you see the ravenous dinosaur turn toward you as its sharp claws dig into the sinking mud that turns into a dirty swimming pool. You hold your breath and close your eyes, trying your best not to make a single sound as Joel takes a step back, crowding your body as you feel his heat encase you as the rain continues to pound against your shaking body.

You can practically hear his soothing voice graze through your mind. Don’t make any movements. Breathe. You’re gonna be just fine.

You feel the rumbling of the jagged rocks underneath and tense your body as you wait for its teeth to rip into your flesh as it swallows you whole. You sink against the side of the RV just waiting for that awful moment when suddenly, you hear a distant roar in the distance. You feel the T-Rex turn toward the noise as it stomps off into the direction of the roar, saving you from what you thought was your watery grave. You hear the distant crashing of green vines and towering trees that fill the jungle. And then it’s quiet, only the sounds of pelting rain hitting the muddy ground.

You keep your eyes closed tight, your fingers flexed as you concentrate on not falling completely apart where you stand. You feel Joel try to pull you out of your misery, but his voice is far away. That deep rumble in a fog as you pretend this didn’t happen, that you didn’t nearly get yourself killed, along with Joel.

“Hey, sweetheart, open your eyes,” he says softly against your ear as you try to fight him off, keeping your eyes closed until you know it’s safe.

Joel shakes you, stirs you from your anxious thoughts and calls your name adamantly as he cups your face and whispers words of affirmation. “You’re alright. C’mon now. Open those pretty eyes for me.”

You bite your lower lip and slowly peel your eyes open and then gasp at the vision that stands before you. Joel stands there in the pouring rain, deft fingers clinging to your jawline as he cups your face affectionately, soft honey eyes staring straight into yours as rain pelts against his tanned skin. Water slips down his hair, his tousled curls slicked back by the rain as his green flannel sits soaked to his broad shoulders, his biceps flexing as he focuses solely on you.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come out here so late. I knew better, and I…”

He cuts you off as he pushes you up against the cool metal of the RV, one hand lingering on your jawline as his other snakes around your hip. His lips crash against yours as you taste sugar and coffee, the perfect mix that sets your taste buds on fire as you drink him down hungrily.

You part your lips and allow him to slot his tongue in. He laps at the inside of your mouth, your tongues colliding together as you breathe in the smell of autumn leaves and rain water that drips off his lips onto yours.

The kiss is hungry, romantic as you slide your hands through his dripping wet curls, twisting your fingers around him so you can be that much closer to him. He lifts you up and wraps your legs around his torso as you pant into his mouth, his calloused fingers digging into your skin as it burns for him.

It’s like a dream, the pouring rain and muted sparks of lightning across the dark sky mixing together to make the heated kiss that much more romantic. You stay like that for minutes just getting lost in each other, lost in the flavor of him.

When you’re both completely out of breath, Joel sets you down on the ground and rests his forehead against yours as he chuckles lightly, his smile lighting up his honey eyes like Christmas lights that shine bright just for you.

“What’s so funny?” you ask as you push against his broad chest. “I nearly got us killed,” you groan as you sulk into the back of the RV.

Joel cups your chin and pulls your face up to his as he looks calmly at you with a soft smile playing on his lips. “Next time jus’ be a little more careful, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he dips down and places a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Before you can ask why he isn’t mad, he bends down and picks something up against the rocks that sit at your feet. “Besides, I wouldn’t have found this if it wasn’t for you,” he grins as he holds up a broken, sharp black claw that clearly came from the T-Rex.

Your eyes go wide as you trace the edge of the claw. “Is this…”

“Yeah, it sure is,” he beams as he slides his thumb over the sharp curve of the claw. “Came right from that Tyrannosaurus rex. Now I have physical proof. Exactly what I needed to collect to do some data research and some tests in the lab.”

His eyes light up like sparkling fireworks as he places the specimen in the pocket of his denim jeans. He hooks his arms around the back of your waist and brings you closer to his chest as he grazes his lips over the sheen of your rain covered lips.

You grip his damp flannel shirt and smile up at him as you brush your nose over his. “My smart paleontologist finally gets his real life dinosaur experience, yeah?” you hum as he brushes his wet lips over yours.

“Mhm, this smart scientist wants to go make love to his gorgeous assistant in the RV. Maybe take a warm shower first, make some hot coffee, maybe sit you on my lap so I can kiss you again and again and again.” He grabs a hold of your hair and presses his plush lips against yours once more as you fall into his arms, completely and utterly hooked on him. The man you fell head over heels for that first day in the lab.

When you pull your lips from his, he takes your hand and squeezes as he drags you back inside. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get you back inside where it’s warm. Wanna go make love to my girl.”

Tags 💙 @keylimebeag @sawymredfox @amyispxnk @princesatracionera @mountainsandmayhem @lotusbxtch @littlevenicebitch69 @syd-djarin

[couldsewyouastitchandsavenine]

When It Rains [Javi Peña]

My entry to @undercoverpena April Showers Challenge that I discovered randomly after talking to @pedroschka about wanting to write something similar. And while, Jo kinda closed the challenge, it's still officially 30th of April where I am, so, voilà.

pairing: javi peña x reader

w/c: 1,5K ish

warnings: mild cursing but it's just a fluff, overall safe to read, Javier experiences love at first sight should be warning on it's own but oh well.

Javier Peña hadn’t thought that it might rain. But then again, no one in this city ever did.

And yet, as if to mock him, the rain finds him anyway. A shower of rain bullets as though the skies themselves were at war, drenching the thirsty asphalt and showing no mercy to anyone caught beneath its relentless assault.

Seeking refuge under the narrow awning of the closed fruit vendor across the offices, Javier's fingers, jittery with nerves, fumble through the cold to pull a cigarette from its nearly crushed pack. It is soggy and limp when he finally manages to do so, yet placing it between his lips feels like a minor victory, pathetic as it seems. His attempts to light it, however, fail miserably—the wind, too cruel, mocking his weak efforts with gusts that make the flame dance and die before it could catch.

Defeated, Javier stuffs the ruined cigarette back into its pack. Crans his neck upward, staring into the relentless downpour of the dark, wet sky, and curses again.

Javier knows it’s late. Absurdly so—the kind of late reserved for ghosts and the lost, and standing there, shivering slightly and with his patience fraying at the edges, Javier feels like neither. Because all he feels is longing to go home. Where, within the confines of his four walls, he can find some semblance of peace, even if it often feels like little more than a stage for his unrest.

But home seems like a world away tonight, his jeep abandoned around the corner on a street now succumbing to rising floodwaters.

And he knows he has no need to be out there, exposed and weary—a quick sprint across the street and a shove through a door would land him back in the bullpen. Yet, the thought of returning to that fluorescent-lit purgatory makes his skin crawl. The oppressiveness of it all—the endless paperwork, the sprawling maps of drug routes stretching across his desk like an atlas of despair, the corkboard plastered with faces that seem to mock his distance from the resolution he so desperately craves—repel him far more than any storm could.

“Hey!”

Cursing louder than he intended, Javier’s hand is quick to reach for his gun, tucked into the waistband of his jeans. But then, his eyes meet yours and he hesitates—not out of fear, but surprise when you grin at him and shuffle closer, lifting your umbrella to cover both of your heads.

And then you smile—soft, tentative, yet disarmingly warm. It hints at something brighter, something warmer, and for a moment, Javier finds himself wondering how it would look fully unfurled, in its most radiant form.

He blinks the thought away at the same time as you speak to him again. “What are you doing out here?”

Javier bristles at your voice, tinged with concern, and then makes a gruff noise as he sizes you up. “Who the hell are you?”

His reaction makes you look down at your shoes briefly, as if trying to shield your disappointment from his harsh gaze. “Oh, I guess you don’t remember me?”

“Am I supposed to?”

“Well, yeah—I guess…,” you trail off with a shrug as you look back up at him. “Intel Division,” you quickly supply, deftly producing a lanyard with your DEA credentials from beneath your yellow windbreaker. “We work—”

“—I know what Intel does,” he interrupts brusquely. And Javier knows that his tone is more abrasive than necessary, but something about you, your hideous yellow coat, and your behaviour is strangely disarming. He isn’t sure if he finds it weird, scary, or if it’s turning him on. So, in order to compose himself, Javier nods to himself. Wishes he had a cigarette he could smoke. Lastly, he asks, “You new around here or something?”

“Nope,” you reply, your smile returning briefly. “Been here for a few years now.” You stop as if trying to figure out your next words. “We usually have briefings together, so I thought you’d—well, nevermind. Why are you here?”

“We do?” Javier asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

“We do, what?”

“Have briefings together?”

Your answer is a nod. “Yeah. I often sit across from you.”

At this, Javier’s expression changes slightly, and with a mix of embarrassment and perhaps a tinge of frustration crossing his features he looks away from you. Then, with his brows knitted together, he glances back at your face—his brain sifting through his mental directory of mugs and names, quickly finding none that match yours.

You chuckle.

“It’s fine, seriously, don’t sweat it,” you reassure him with a gentle voice, “I know I’m not that memorable,” you joke, waving your free hand around your face, but Javier only frowns at that. But, you ignore him, tucking your exposed hand back into the pocket of your jacket. “So, why are you out here?”

Javier sighs. Runs a tired hand over his face in a frustration that never quite went away. “My car—didn’t look like it’s going to rain this morning.”

“It never does here,” you supply mirthfully. “Where did you park it?” Javier doesn’t answer, but simply waves his hand towards the general direction where his jeep sits. “Great. Let’s go then.”

“Where?”

“To your car,” you grin up at him, gesturing in front of you.

—

Unlike Javier, you seem almost indifferent to the storm, your demeanour unfazed by the downpour. Yet as a particularly heavy cloud bursts above, Javier can’t help but note the slight falter in your steps, the struggle to hold the umbrella over both of your heads against the rebellious wind.

“Here, let me hold it,” Javier declares more than offers, his hand reaching to take the hold of your umbrella before you can protest. And even though it’s a simple gesture, the brief hand contact sends a subtle, warm jolt through him—a sensation that lingers unsettlingly long. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you breathe out, returning his gaze.

Javier quickly looks away.

The outline of his jeep materialises in the distance, a dark silhouette against the hazy veil of rain, but the journey to it feels overwhelmingly long. Javier's mind attributes the stretch to the silence between you, an oppressive, stifling thing that seems to thicken with each step. And even though he has never been one for small talk, he finds himself wanting to fill the void, to somehow bridge the gap, but he struggles to find the right words. And the ones he finds disappear before they could form into coherent sentences.

"It's okay," you say softly, your voice cutting through his reverie, as if sensing his discomfort. "We don't need to talk. We can just walk."

So walk you do, until at last you arrive at where his car is parked, the lone steel frame glistening with a slick coat of rain. What follows is an awkward moment as Javier’s hands pat down his pockets in a frantic search for his keys.

"Fuck, I'm really sorry," he mutters, relief and frustration mingling as he finally feels the metal contours of the key in his grip.

A dismissive wave from you and a brief smile of his later, you step back to give him room to open the door. As smooth as possible and avoiding any more rain on his neck, Javier slides inside, shivering as his body stills against the cold seat. Then, he glances up to voice his thanks, only to see your figure retreating—silhouette melting into the rain, causing him to feel a sudden tug at his heart—an unfamiliar sensation that’s filled with a sudden, inexplicable reluctance to let you go just yet.

Thus, Javier finds himself cranking down the window with haste. “Hey!” he calls out; sharper and louder than intended. But, it makes you stop and turn; look at him, and Javier’s heart skips for just a beat as he offers a tentative smile, propelled by a rash impulse. "Come on. This rain isn’t letting up anytime soon. Let me at least get you somewhere dry."

You hesitate for a second, your gaze drifting to your shoes for a moment before meeting his eyes again. And then, with a small smile, you’re nodding and making your way back to him—the umbrella hardly more than a token shield against the rain.

With soft words of gratitude, you settle into the passenger seat, and Javier simply nods—a brief, uncertain smile flickering across his lips as he starts the engine. The familiar silence envelops the space between you again, yet this time it carries an odd comfort. One that Javier appreciates more than he cares to admit.

But while the quiet lingers, Javier’s mind races, sifting through memories, briefings, and faces of informants and colleagues—none of which align with yours. It’s frustrating and he hates it, thus, he finds himself stealing glances—once, twice, pulled by something beyond his control.

It's only when a red light forces him to a stop that he finally gives in to the urge to speak. “I’m Javier… Javi,” he says, as if to reaffirm his identity and anchor himself in familiar territory. “But, you probably know that.”

Glancing back at him, you give him a small, knowing smile. "Yeah, you were the topic of my first briefing when I transferred here. Also, you don’t need me to remind you that you've got a reputation."

Javier chuckles, raising an eyebrow. "Hope it's a good one."

Your smile only widens to the exact point where Javier wants it, confirming that it’s, in fact, unabashedly beautiful—just as he assumed.

"Depends on who you ask, I guess. Men think you're a hero. Women, on the other hand, not so much."

A moment of strange panic flickers through Javier, but you sigh contentedly, your gaze drifting back to the misted window, deliberately steering clear of that particular rabbit hole—at least for now.

"Look," Javier starts again, his voice a blend of confession and curiosity, "I gotta admit, I'm drawing a blank here, and I’m usually better with faces." He pauses when you wave him off, but then persists softly, "No, really—I should remember. Especially those pretty eyes like yours."

You snort, giving him a look that mixes amusement with mild rebuke, but he just winks, finding himself strangely comforted by your dismissal of his compliment.

"You’ll live, Javi," you tease before finally telling him your name. And Javier repeats it, savouring the way it feels on his tongue, a subtle pleasure tingling through him as he acknowledges how much he likes the sound of it.

Pausing briefly, Javier steals another glance at you. “There’s a little place not too far from here,” he suddenly starts. “Open all night. Their food isn’t half bad, and the coffee’s strong. Thought we could head over for a bit, to dry off? Unless you’re not up for it.”

A moment of hesitation flickers across your face before a smile emerges. "Sounds good. I usually can’t sleep anyway... but only if it's not out of your way."

Something inside Javier’s stomach kicks. A gut-punch of pleasure that lines his insides with warmth that he doesn’t bother to dismiss. “It usually is, but I feel like going out of my way tonight.”

—

tags: @pedroschka, @itscolleenhere, @idontcareihavenoidea