#austin pics series

[lindszeppelin]

My Favorite Austin Pics  [13 / ∞]  

[punkshort]

i'll be home for christmas | part one

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)

WC: 9.1K

A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.

Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them

Series Masterlist

It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.

This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.

Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.

Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.

You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.

Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.

"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"

"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.

"Where's Mom?" you asked.

"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"

"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."

"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.

"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."

She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.

You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.

"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.

"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.

"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."

You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.

"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.

You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.

The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.

You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.

"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.

"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.

"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.

"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."

"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.

"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.

"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.

"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."

"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.

"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.

"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"

"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.

"How far along are you again?" you asked.

"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.

"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.

"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.

"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.

"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.

If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.

So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.

"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed.

"So why were you even with him?"

"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."

"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."

"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.

"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."

"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."

"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.

"Baby names?" you asked.

"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."

You giggled and stood to join her.

"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.

After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.

Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"

"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.

Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.

A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.

You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.

"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?

"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.

"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."

He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"How do you know Paul and Martha?"

Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.

"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.

"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.

"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.

"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.

"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.

"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.

"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.

"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."

"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."

"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."

"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.

"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.

"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"

Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.

"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.

"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.

"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.

"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."

"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.

"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.

"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.

You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.

"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"

"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."

You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"

You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.

"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"

You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.

"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.

"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.

You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.

Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.

You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.

As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.

Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into

You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.

"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.

"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"

"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"

"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.

"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.

"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."

"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.

"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!

"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"

"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.

He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.

"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.

"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."

"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.

You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.

Oh my god, what if she died?

You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.

Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.

"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.

"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.

"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.

"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.

"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.

"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.

"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.

"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."

You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.

"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."

Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.

"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.

"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.

"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."

You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?

"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"

Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.

"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.

Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?

You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?

You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?

You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?

You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.

Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?

You giggled and tapped out a reply.

You: I'd love to!

Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7

Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.

You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.

She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.

You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.

"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.

"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.

"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"

"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.

"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.

"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.

"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."

"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.

"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.

"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"

"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."

"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."

"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.

"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.

"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."

"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.

"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.

"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.

Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.

But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.

Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.

For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.

Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.

Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.

Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.

"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.

"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.

"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.

"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.

"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.

"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.

"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.

"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."

Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.

"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."

"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."

Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.

"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.

You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.

Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.

"Yeah, did you?"

"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."

You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.

"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.

"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."

"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.

"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.

"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.

"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.

"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.

"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.

"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.

"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."

"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.

"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.

"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.

"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."

His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.

"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."

You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.

Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.

"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.

"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.

"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.

"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"

You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.

"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.

"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.

"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.

"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.

"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.

"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.

"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.

"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.

"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.

"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.

"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.

"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.

"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.

All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.

"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice.

He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.

Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.

A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.

"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.

Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.

"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.

After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.

You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.

He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.

You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.

"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.

You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.

"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."

"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.

Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.

Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.

Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.

His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.

[aurorawritestoescape]

JOEL’S VISIT | Bad Blood Extra | 3,8k

Summary: Joel pays you a visit and makes your night unforgettable.

Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel is in his late 40s), step uncle!Joel is a warning in himself, stepdad Tommy makes an appearance (kinda), fingering, ass play, anal, sex toy, spit as lube, pussy slapping, cum eating, creampie, degradation kink, praise kink, alcohol consumption, swearing.

A/n: written as a naughty bday present for my love @milla-frenchy 🥳 happy birthday, baby!😘🩷 ILY! Hope you’ll enjoy my little gift❤️ and Joel’s huge gift🍆🍑😏

Pics are only for the mood. Reader has no specific physical description. Reader wears a skirt. Dividers by @strangergraphics-archive

Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST || Milla’s MASTERLIST

You step into your favorite bar in your college town and search for him. You notice the familiar broad shoulders far away from the crowd and saunter there, on the way turning heads of the other patrons but you don’t care about them. As if by a magnet you’re being pulled to the man, who’s sipping whiskey in a dark corner booth. Joel Miller.

You hate to admit it but you really missed the fucker. Missed his rough hands, his dirty words, his assholish attitude. No one else can make your blood boil like that but the hate you often feel towards him morphs into passion so fast that you wonder if your relationship is meant to be. As toxic as they are, you've never felt such a strong pull towards anyone. Except your stepdad Tommy of course.

Right now Joel’s in the dog house. You’re still fuming over his intention to fuck someone with the hard on YOU gave him. So you don’t sit next to him and instead settle in front of the man at the booth.

Joel looks up from his drink and a smirk tugs at his lips, shining with drops of whiskey.

“Hey, uncle Joel,” you greet him with a reserved smile. He’s wearing a denim vest with a white tank top underneath and his huge arms make your heart skip a beat. Why does he always look so delicious?

“Hello, angel.”

His eyes slide down to your lips and then cleavage, with your tits almost spilling out of your top by design. He adjusts himself before asking,

“Doncha wanna give your favourite uncle a kiss?”

“Not really,” you reply as your eyes are boring into him.

He huffs a laugh and rubs his scruffy cheek.

“Being a cold bitch doesn’t suit you, baby. I prefer you needy and with my cock between your pretty lips.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, but your mouth waters at his words.

“It’s a health issue, Joel. I don’t wanna catch anything after you fucked every hole in Austin.”

Joel’s brows rise up and he leans forward, planting his elbows on the table. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you ogle his arms and shoulders.

“Oh, little slut’s jealous.”

You cross your arms making your breasts almost jump out of your top and lie,

“No, I‘m not.”

He narrows his eyes at you and takes a sip of his whiskey before talking again.

“Here’s a thing, angel. You can keep Tommy’s balls in a cute box under your bed. I don’t care. But ya definitely not getting mine.”

You scoff and he leans back against the seat.

“So let’s make it clear— I fuck whoever I want whenever I want.”

You clench your jaws as anger and jealousy squeeze your throat.

For some time you two sit in silence, the air between you electrified and heavy.

Finally Joel gets up with a grunt and you look up at him scared that he might leave, abandon you, but to your relief he comes up to your seat and plops down next to you. He turns to you slightly and puts his huge arm on the backrest behind you. He’s so close that it feels like a hug. His scent immediately envelops you and you gush as if on command.

“Look at me,” Joel gruffs but you keep staring ahead of yourself.

“Look. At. Me.”

The steel in his rumbling voice makes you throb and you turn your face to him, hiding your true emotions, your expression angry and cold.

“I’ve had a shitty day, angel. Don’t make it worse.”

He sounds serious and you furrow your brows with worry.

“What happened?”

Joel grabs his drink and finishes it. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and talks to the empty glass.

”Paid Jess a visit today. Tommy left some stuff at your… her house.”

“Why didn’t he go himself?” you ask, feeling a pang of sadness that Tommy didn’t tell you anything.

Joel laughs.

“I don’t think he wants to meet your dear mother. He fucked her daughter on their marital bed. She ain’t exactly waiting for him there with open arms.”

“And you? I’m sure she wasn’t happy to see you either.”

“I don’t give a fuck. The bitch can curse me out all she wants. Tommy’s just too good of a guy. Feels bad.”

“Whatever,” you grumble.

Your gaze drops and you sit quietly, deep in your thoughts. Does Tommy feel bad about what happened? If so does he regret your relationship? Does he regret you?

“Hey,” Joel calls and you immediately look up at him, noticing a trace of softness in his voice. “Tommy asked me to give you something.”

“What?”

Joel turns to you more, his thigh presses against yours, and he brings his hand to your jaw. He pinches your chin and slowly leans down.

You slightly open your mouth, welcoming him, and he kisses you. In a second he’s licking into your mouth with passion, claiming you in front of everyone, and you melt, tasting whiskey and cigarettes on his hot tongue. He grabs the back of your head and devours your mouth, swallowing your needy whimpers as his other hand settles on your bare thigh, close to your naked pussy under the short skirt. He squeezes your leg and, feeling how much he wants you, you gush more. Your soft moans are drowned in a sea of chatter and music at the bar. It takes just a few seconds of this, of him, to make your pussy uncomfortably wet. Your core is crying for more and you open your legs wider, signaling him to touch you.

Joel’s plush lips part from yours as he mumbles,

“Here’s my needy slut.”

You reply with a flirty smile and press your body closer to his.

“Take me to a motel. Want you to fuck me like one of your cheap hookers.”

You drag your nose up his neck and Joel groans, roughly kneading your thigh.

“My sweet niece needs to get railed, uh? Dontcha have some fuck boy on standby at your dorm?

“I don’t cheat on daddy,” you whisper against his neck.

“Oh?”

”It’s ok if it’s you. It’s different.”

Joel huffs and then his expression gets serious.

”I can’t do motel today, baby. Need to get going.”

“Already?” you whine, pouting your lips.

“Yeah. Have work tomorrow. And if I get you all to myself in a room I won’t be able to stop fucking ya for at least a week.”

You smile and playfully bite the skin of his neck, before purring, “Sounds good.”

Your pussy is tingling for him and you desperately need to alleviate the ache.

“Please, Joel,” you sit straight and plead, batting your lashes at him. “I miss your big cock so much.”

Joel's wolfish grin makes your clit throb with the beat of your heart. Your tactics seem to work because he adjusts his big bulge and groans,

“My truck. Now.”

You can’t get up fast enough and then hurry to the exit, feeling Joel’s eyes on your swaying ass.

The parking lot is dark, illuminated only by one street light, and almost empty except for a few cars. Joel motions to his truck and you shiver when you walk there but not because of the cold. The culprit is an anticipation of his hands on your body, his cock deep inside you.

Before getting in you stop with your back to your step uncle.

”Wanna show you something.”

You bend over slightly and then lift your skirt. He sees your bare ass and you hear a whistle.

“Juicy.” He grabs your asscheeks but you swat his hands away.

“No, Joel. Wait.“

You push your ass out and spread your cheeks so he could see a pink jeweled butt plug, shaped like a heart.

“Fuck, angel, this for me? Been training your ass to take my big dick?

“Yeah. I thought you might miss it.”

You sigh when he presses his whole frame to yours. His big hands start kneading your naked cheeks and he licks the side of your neck and sucks a hickey into your delicate skin.

“Tommy asked me to leave this as a message for everyone.”

“What’s the message?” You breathe out, grinding your butt against Joel’s bulge.

“This pussy‘s taken. You’re ours.”

You moan, reveling in the possessiveness of the brothers and the sensation of Joel’s heavy body, pressing you against the truck, and you’re slowly but surely drenching your inner thighs. Soon the need overtakes any pride you have left.

“Fuck me, Joel. Fuck my ass. Please.”

“Sure, angel,” he growls, taking a step back, and pulls you off the truck. ”Inside. On your back.”

You do as you’re told, drunk with desire and excitement, and lie down on the faux leather seat at the back of the car. Joel settles between your thighs and throws your left ankle on his shoulder, opening you up for him.

“You often fuck here?” you ask, noticing how fast he found a comfortable position.

He replies with a smirk, “No, only on special occasions.”

You shoot him a playful wink.

“Aww. I’m flattered.”

“Ya should be. I’ll probably spend ages cleaning everything off your slick, little slut.”

“Fuck you,” you giggle and spread your thighs wider, as he grabs your hips and lifts them a little.

The hem of your skirt slides to your waist and Joel leers at your exposed pussy. In the almost dark car his eyes are glinting like those of a predator in a night forest. Your breath hitches as you marvel at his handsome features, accentuated by the dim yellow glow from the outside.

Joel seems to be mesmerized by you too.

“Here she is. Wet little pussy.”

He covers your cunt with his big hand and you shiver when his warm palm squeezes your cold folds.

A gasp crawls up your throat as Joel begins playing with your slippery cunt, drawing soft moans from you—he slides his fingers over your lips, massages your mound, lightly grazes your eager clit and when he lowers his hand and brushes the pink heart of your butt plug, you buck your hips, calling for him to take you.

His light ministrations feel so good you might cry but they are not enough to satiate your thirst so you yank the neckline of your top down and start kneading your naked breasts.

“Fuck, angel, never met anyone this horny and cock hungry.”

You don’t reply, fully lost in the sensations, but Joel demands your attention by flicking your clit and you cry out as a jolt of pain mixed with pleasure shoots through your body.

“Joelllll,” you whine but then a hazy smile blooms on your face and your step uncle notices it.

“How could I forget that my little niece likes a lil bit of pain with her pleasure? Dirty fucking girl.”

You smirk and Joel continues,

“I see you clenching your holes, baby. That pretty plug of yours nearly jumped out of your asshole. Let’s make it dance.”

Suddenly he slaps your pussy with an open palm and you whine,

“Fuck, Joel.” Your body jerks and all your muscles contract. His hot palm lands on your blooming cunt again and again, the strokes light but precise and sharp. Your soft moans fill the truck, sometimes interrupted by Joel’s encouragement.

“Doing good, angel— ya know ya deserve it—look at ya asshole sucking in the plug— your pussy’s winking at me—can ya come like that, baby?”

Through the lustful fog in your head, you barely register what he wants from you but when you do, your fingers start twitching your nipples, pushing yourself closer to the edge.

Slap—slap—slap, Joel spanks your slicked puffy folds and when his wet hand hits your clit just right, you cry out. Your head dips into the seat, your back arches as you come undone from Joel’s rough caress and he praises,

“Yeah, like that, angel. Good fucking slut.”

It takes you some time to stop trembling and when your limbs and body relax, you find Joel’s obsidian eyes drinking in every sign of your ecstasy.

“That was…Wow. Never came from spanking before.”

“‘s weird considering what a bratty bitch you can be. I’d think every second lover wants to slap your cunt.”

You smirk and flutter your eyes shut, still melting after experiencing such an incredible pleasure.

But they immediately snap open when you feel your butt plug move. You see Joel’s eyes glued to your puckered hole, held open by the jeweled toy.

“Joel?” Your voice is strained by the overwhelming sensation of the plug shifting its position inside you and you lift yourself on your elbows to see what he’s doing.

“I really missed your tight hole, angel. Very. Much.”

Joel empathizes each word by moving the plug in and out of your asshole. It glides smoothly, covered with lube and now your slick. You bite your lip, and whimper at the sight and feeling of your tight hole, stretching around the shiny head of the plug and then clamping around its base.

“Damn,” Joel mumbles to himself, as his fingers leave the plug and he begins unbuckling his belt. “Your asshole‘s drenched by your needy pussy. Might do without lube.”

“Yeah, Joel, fuck me raw. ‘s ok if it burns a little.”

“Shit, angel. Naughty slut. Look what ya doing to me.”

Joel unzips his jeans and tugs them down and your eyes are graced with the sight of his huge hard cock. The tip looks like a fat shiny lollipop and you almost drool seeing it bob over your naked cunt.

“Let’s replace the toy with something better, baby”.

Joel’s hand confidently wraps around the base of his stiff manhood while the other pulls on the plug. Your asshole clenches around it tightly, not letting it go, but Joel slowly slides it out and your ring closes.

Your chest is heaving with a mixture of excitement and nerves as Joel slides his cock between your soaked folds, wetting it, and then nudges your asshole with his leaking tip. He pushes in and you take a deep breath to relax but your hole is too tight.

“C’mon, little slut, relax for me.”

”Yeah,” you nod obediently and lie back down, looking up and trying to relax your muscles.

”‘s like that, open up for me, angel. You’ve taken me before.”

“Yeah, but … when I took your huge dick Tommy was there. He knows how to make me relax.”

You find Joel’s obsidian eyes, and then look down at his lips. The man scoffs.

“I ain’t gonna smooch ya forehead, baby. And ‘good girl’ for sure ain’t about you, little slut. So let’s try something else.”

Suddenly you feel Joel’s cock bump into your hardened clit. You whimper, hazy eyes locked with Joel’s, and he drops his head and starts drawing circles over your sensitive bud with his slippery tip.

“Ya like when I do this?”

”Yeah.”

“Good, breathe, baby. Unclench for me. Uncle wants to ruin your tight ass.”

He’s swirling your clit for some time and when the sensation of him, massaging your pussy, brings you close to the second climax, he slides his cock down to your crack and pushes into your tight ring.

With a gasp you feel your asshole give in as he inserts his mushroom head inside your ass, slowly but assertively. Your nails dig into the faux leather of the seat while Joel groans and closes his eyes and you watch his handsome weathered face twist in pleasure.

“Fuckkk,“ he growls and your heart sings, seeing him enjoy your body that much. Not minding the dull pain and the feeling of fullness, you whisper,

“Deeper, Joel. Want your whole cock in my ass.”

He opens his eyes and smirks at you,

“‘Course, angel. Gonna use you so good, you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

His promise should probably make you nervous but lust has completely taken over your body and mind so you bend your legs and press them to your sides, submitting your body to him like an offering.

Joel’s huge hands grab your asscheeks, he spreads them and holds you open before rolling his hips, pushing his cock deeper into you.

He’s grunting and groaning while you’re breathing in and out steadily, opening up for him more and more. Letting him claim the deepest part of you.

Soon Joel bottoms out with a satisfied sigh and stops his movement.

“Look at that, angel. My dick’s fully inside ya ass.” His eyes are focused on the place where he’s sheathed inside you. ”Fuck, I’m so happy Tommy married your mother. It brought me here.”

He chuckles and drops his head back in pleasure and you lift on your elbows to see the way you are joined and watch your asshole flex around the base of his cock.

“Yeah, glad we met, Joel. Now can you please move?” You whine, desperately needing more. Joel doesn’t make you wait- he grabs your hips tighter and slowly pulls his cock out almost to the tip and then slams it back inside as you moan and grab onto the seat.

He starts off slow, rhythmically moving his stiffness inside your ass, then pulls out his glistening shaft half way out of you, spits on it, and plunges back in your canal. You moan as the wetness adds to the pleasure, coursing through your body, and soon your sweet sounds and Joel’s groans fill the inside of the truck.

You whine your step uncle’s name and your hand slithers down to your cunt.

“What is it, little slut? Aw, your needy pussy’s lonely,huh?”Joel mocks, through gritted teeth, and you gloat inside thinking that he must have a real hard time trying not to burst inside you.

But you decide to be a good girl for him so you bite your lip, pull your eyebrows together and nod.

“You’re cute, let’s fill your sloppy hole too then.”

Joel leans down and brings his index and middle fingers to your mouth.

“Make ‘em all nice and wet, angel.”

You smile and take his thick digits between your lips and lick them, glide your tongue over his skin, coating it in your saliva.

When Joel decides it’s enough, he pulls them out and straightens, slowing down his thrusts.

With his cock deep in your ass, he pushes two of his fingers into your crying pussy and you both watch both of your holes being spread wide around Joel.

“Fuck, I’m so full. Your fingers are like another cock inside me.”

“Ya welcome,” he mumbles and starts fucking both of your entrances— your ass with his cock, your pussy with his hand.

If you were enjoying yourself before now you’re in heaven.

“Yes, Joel, don’t stop,” you moan and the man growls in response. His thick and long cock in your ass takes so much room that your pussy channel feels tighter, his fingers stimulate you so much better, that in no time your walls start contracting around his fingers. Squelching sounds of your weeping cunt makes Joel fuck into your holes faster and soon you unravel under his ministrations, crying out his name and arching your back off the seat. You’re trembling all over, cock dumb, pleasure drunk, biting your puffy lips and leaving scratches on the seat.

When you relax and melt under the man, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and slowly thrusting into your ass, lets you clean them up.

”Lick it off, angel, be a good girl.”

You lazily taste yourself and then he covers your body with his, pressing you into the seat, his hips flush with your asscheeks.

“Gonna come soon, baby. Gimme some sugar.”

With that he kisses you passionately and begins hammering into your ass, reaching the deepest spot inside you, feverishly chasing his climax.

Seizing this moment of unity with him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him tight, while your tongues are moving against each other. You’re gladly letting him take everything from you and soon his muscles tense under your touch and he makes a few hard thrusts and then moans into your mouth and begins spurting ropes of hot cum inside you. He’s filling you up to the brim, his throbbing cock moving in and out of your tight canal, pushing his cum deeper into your stretched ass.

You’re nuzzling his cheek, tasting his skin with your tongue, and the overwhelming feelings in your chest make you forget your complicated relationship with the man stuffing you so well and you purr his name into his ear, softly, gently, pouring so much into these four letters. Joel locks eyes with you, while his cock still twitches inside you from time to time.

His gaze is relaxed, soft and satisfied, rid of the usual sharpness, mockery, guard.

Your throat squeezes and your breath hitches when you realize that you’re staring at someone else, someone deep inside Joel you know and before he disappears, hides behind the wall, you kiss him gently, hug him close, and he gives you all of that back.

A few minutes later Joel’s tucking his cock back into his jeans, groaning about your slick and scratches all over the seat. The asshole is back.

“Maybe ya wanna lick off your mess, angel?”

“Fuck off,” you snap, fixing your clothes, and then get into the front of the truck and carefully sit down on the passenger seat. Your ass is sore and plugged up again with Joel’s cum inside. ”A warm farewell gift for ya,” he laughed.

“Going raw was a mistake,” you complain with a hiss and watch him get behind the wheel with a lit cigarette between his lips.

“Take me to the dorm,” you command and Joel glares at you without moving.

“Please, uncle Joel,” you bat your lashes with exaggeration and he starts the car.

You immediately take out your phone and call Tommy.

“Hey, baby.”

“Daddy! Guess who just fucked my ass!” You chirp with excitement into the speaker.

You hear Tommy chuckling, Joel curses and smiles at you.

“I need the details, baby.”

You give Joel a wink and start talking.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

SERIES MASTERLIST I MASTERLIST | Milla’s MASTERLIST

Tag list for the series: @milla-frenchy @iamasaddie @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquent-dreamer @ashhlsstuff @evolnoomym @pinkiec6-rubi @guelyury

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 02/10/2024 Logan Sargeant- Public Sex

Plot: Logan and you go out clubbing after he is replaced in Williams and both have a few to many Tequila sunrises.

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, Public sex, Public fingering, in a club setting, in an alleyway etc 18+ MInors DNI

Logan wasn’t a risky person. He was actually the boy next door, never did anything wrong, always super sweet and never stepped out of his comfort zone.

He struggled in Williams, they didn’t have the best car and mixed with communication issues between himself and the team 2024 didn’t start of great. That was also because James Vowles was a knob who decided to convince Carlos Sainz to join Williams starting all the way back in 2023.

But now Logan was out of a seat and with the dwindling number of seats in F1 he surely wouldn’t get a seat back there anytime soon. So he started looking at other racing series, he even started looking into NASCAR but he was also at the point where he was now mentally checked out from racing.

Not completely but he did need a massive break from all the pressure on his head.

So of course being the loving doting and awesome girlfriend you are, you travelled with him. You guys went to Disney, travelled to watch the race in Baku, went to Japan and said fuck Williams in Singapore and then you ended up back in America before the Austin GP.

You went out clubbing with all of his friends from school, and some people who didn’t make it out of the feeder series like he did. You guys were enjoying your night. But the more one of you would drink, the more the other one would.

You were going back and forth from the bar taking it in turns while other people were also chipping in and buying you drinks. So by 2am, you were both outrageously drunk singing (actually screaming) along to Vigilante and Ready for it, as Logan of course is in his Reputation Era.

“Baby you look so fucking hot tonight I could fuck you right here” he groans as you take seat in his lap in a booth of the area of the club you guys are in.

“Omg fucking do it” you say leaning into him.

“Yeah, you want me to touch you in front of all these people?” He says kissing up your collarbone, across your neck, up your jaw and just before your ear.

“You wanna show all these people how pretty you are when I’m inside you. Argh that face you make?” He slurs and you nod turning round to lean into him more and sloppily kissing every inch of his face.

“Baby please I need you!” You moan into him, his hands grip your hips spinning you round so your facing him and straddling over his thigh.

“Im gonna make you cum so hard pretty girl” he moans kissing you lightly before slipping his tongue all the way in. His hand travels down in between the two of you, going up the little sparkly mini skirt you had on and straight into your underwear.

“Ah Logan” you moan leaning closer into him as his thumb makes circle motions on your clit. To anyone who looked you guys just looked like a horny couple having a steamy make out in the corner of the club, and there were many people who did look, and further took pics and you were probably in the back of others videos.

But that didn’t cross neither yours or Logan’s mind.

His fingers went deeper and his was thrusting his hand rapidly in and out. He made sure to keep his lips on yours to try drown out your drunken moans, even though the music was doing that anyway.

“Your so gorgeous like this, how’d I get so lucky. My god, beautiful girl” he moans and before you know it your arms are hugging round him pulling him close as you shake and clench around his fingers buried deep in you and still moving to ride out your high.

You sat there, trying to calm down just as a few of Logan’s friends joined you in the booth. Logan quickly pulled his fingers out, licking your juices off them before pulling your hair back and moving you to sit next to him, saying pulling your underwear back over to cover you up from the leather of the club booth.

You both seemed to slowly forget what you’d just done in the club, it was pretty scandalous for Logan so it made sense you both sort of had drunk a lot more since doing it.

Eventually you guys needed to leave, you ended up behind the back of the club in a quiet but not vacant alleyway that backed into some houses.

Logan immediately pushed you against the wall hitching your leg up and pushing himself into you making you gasp.

“You’ve been so persistent all night baby, you frustrated from earlier?” You ask knowing he hadn’t let go any of his pent up tension it was all still brewing.

“Mmmmm I want to be inside of you right now against this wall” he moans as he starts to hump into you at a feverish pace, whining and moaning as he does.

“Baby come on let’s wait till we get home huh?” You say with a small moan as his jeans brushed against your clothed clit. It felt good, so good but you could feel the exhaustion slowly take over.

“I can’t wait baby, you got your fun in there let me have mine out here” he complains and before you know it he’s unzipping his jeans and pulling himself out of them.

“Fine but make it quick” you gruff out noticing he’s already pulling your panties to the side and lifting you up to hold you against the wall as your legs naturally wrap round his waist.

He slips in so easily and a sigh of relief comes from him. He holds you up using the wall to help him keep you in place as he’s not at him most stable right now.

“Oh my god Logan” you moan, a hand coming up to cover your mouth not wanting anyone to hear from the rooms above.

“Ah baby, so good. Fuck you’re so tight” he says pumping in and out of you. Your back is arched against the wall and your hair is getting caught in all the brick work that’s started to wear away.

“So so close baby, keep squeezing me” he groans as your walls clamp around him even tighter than earlier.

“I love you so much Logan, fuck keep going” you moans loudly your head leaning back against the wall. This is the first time you decided to look round a little and you notice there are some people walking past the end of the alley way.

“Im gonna cum baby” he moans into you forcing himself further against you leaning your fully back against the wall and you feel him paint your walls. You’re immediately releasing that coil in your own stomach, letting all of your body weight relax into Logan.

“L-let’s get home” he sighs pulling out of you and tucking himself back into his shorts.

“You’ve never done anything like that Sargeant, what’s gotten into you” you laugh pulling your skirt back down.

“The drinks for sure, we’ll wake up tomorrow with questions, maybe even some scandalous articles” he jokes and he takes your hand to start to walk you guys home.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[earlycuntsets]

pt. 1

parts (2, 3, 4)

earlycuntsets.org website sources - where I got all my mcr pictures

first of a series. due to tumblr limits on how many links you can post. this full idea will be continued on future posts. for now here's 2002- 1/2 of 2007. this is pictures. will make a separate post for youtube/recordings.

been needing to fully source my website so here we go! wanted to share with other kool mcr fans.

old fansites/website appearances:

most popular - theimmortalityproject.com

mcr's old website [2002, 2003, 2004, 2005]

magazine scan archive - mcrhollywood.blogspot.com

more mcr flyers here than anywhere - theydrewblood.blogspot.com

gerard pic/interview 2003 - artsucks.com

show pics:

(8/18/2003 & 04/28/2004 washington dc, 08/20/2004 gillette stadium foxborough ma and 06/13/2004 baltimore md) - brokenvoices

(09/13/2004 & 01/21/2005 birmingham academy) - blackvelvetmagazine.com

(rainbow montreal 01/06/2003, kool haus toronto ca 02/10/2003, salle lx montreal ca, 08/25/2003) - junkedcamera.com

(bottom of the hill sacramento ca 1/23/2003) - sacramentomusicarchive.com

I do not know this show, 2003 - idolize magazine

04/03/2004 majestic theater detroit mi - schwegweb.com

05/07/2004 bakersville ca - rocksandiego.com (kira olsson-trap)

10/13/2004 kansas city mo - grrphotography

03/11/2005 taste of chaos cobo arena detroit mi - schwegweb.com

03/13/2005 taste of chaos st louis - grrphotography

03/16/2005 td waterhouse arena orlando fl - jencray.com

03/20/2005 st paul mn - shatterthelens.com

07/16/2005 fairgrounds, salt lake city - trent nelson

08/07/2005 warped tour orlando fl - jencray.com

08/08/2005 warped tour verizon wireless lot charlotte nc - josh hofer

08/12/2005 warped tour tweeter center camden nj - musicmattersmedia.com

11/01/2005 wolverhampton civic hall, wolverhampton england - blackvelvetmagazine.com

03/17/2006 emos austin tx - brooklynvegan.com & andrewkendall

10/26/2006 webster hall ny - dontbescene.com

11/15/2006 nottingham uk - blackvelvetmagazine

1/21/2007 big day out gold coast australia - kylie keene

03/25/2007 cardiff - blackvelvetmagazine.com

07/03/2007 helsinki - deadflowerphotography

flickrs (show pics):

7/25/2003 farmingdale ny - gaelen harlacher

08/16/2003 toronto ca - allfalldownphotography

I do not know this show, 2004 - joel

01/13/2004 night and day cafe manchester uk - tony woolliscroft

04/28/2004 cotton club atlanta ga - mike white

06/15/2004 mr.smalls theater, milvale pa - scapularemix

08/20/2004 gillette stadium foxborough ma - futurebreed

10/26/2004 roseland ballroom nyc - alyssa

01/30/2005 cologne germany - johanna bocher

07/02/2005 warped tour piers, san fransisco ca - laurentertaining

07/06/2005 warped tour pampano beach fl - internetpirateradio

7/28/2005 warped tour quebec city, quebec @ the pepsi colisée parking lot - alec hartman photography

08/05/2005 warped tour st petersburg fl - todd cynic

08/10/2005 warped tour nissan pavillian va - jessica

08/13/2005 warped tour nyc ny - christine natanael

08/23/2005 underworld london uk - sammi hills & lauren siohan

09/02/2005 &09/03/2005 rock in idro milan italy - matteo galli

09/13/2005 station park providence ri - katie o'keefe

09/15/2005 columbus ohio - stacy chambers

09/20/2005 st paul mn - matt birhanzel

10/14/2005 tweeter center camden nj - kristin

03/17/2006 emos austin tx - nicole herbst & allison7821

03/19/2006 recording academy san fransisco ca - james

05/12/2006 sun god festival la jolla ca - sam litvin

08/06/2006 nyc - heather marie ryan

08/25/2006 bramham park leeds uk - dancelike.hell

10/12/2006 virgin megastore london uk - stephen kallao

10/28/2006 & 10/29/2006 voodoo festival new orleans - mandi & voodoo music

10/31/2006 house of blues hollywood ca- veronica murietta

11/09/2006 e-werk cologne germany- sabrina & himychemicalromance

11/21/2006 milano italy - rodolfo sassano

1/24/2007 brisbane austraila - conradpayton

2/04/2007 perth australia - richard giles

03/04/2007 denver co - selene locke

03/07/2007 las vegas nv - heather marie ryan & pamela zabala

03/11/2007 anaheim - scarlet lark

03/21/2007 brighton england - peter hill

04/21/2007 seattle wa - steven friederich

04/22/2007 ft lauderdale fl - heather marie ryan

04/28/2007 williamsburg va - andrew s

05/05/2007 east rutherford nj - maria newman & mimie7981

05/01/2007 toronto ca - liz lulu

05/20/2007 vancouver ca - amy sept

05/21/2007 seattle wa- ciera walters

06/08/2007 leicestershire uk - sara bowrey

06/21/2007 bilboa spain - patriciana

06/23/2007 madrid spain - juan the fly factory

06/24/2007 lisbon portugal - mario guilherme

06/30/2007 hovefestivalen tromoya norway - kim erlandsen

07/08/2007 naas ireland - james quinton

07/25/2007 seattle wa - ciera walters

livejournals:

04/04/2004 bottom lounge chicago il - mechanical_riot

05/11/2004 san francisco ca - from strawberyxlove

01/05/2005 newcastle university england - open_heart_zoo

03/06/2005 daytona ohio - xxmeansyourhxc

03/10/2005 taste of chaos cleveland - dyanna

04/07/2005 barrowland, glasgow uk - elite_cru

part 2 here

[lady-phasma]

As most of you know, when the auntie vibe strikes I go with it. I was reblogging some of my ancient, ridiculous headcanons today. I love them and they make me giggle. They also reminded me of something about fandom culture that is very important to me:

These are characters. The actors are humans.

My long-time followers know that I don't post paparazzi pics intentionally, I don't participate in celebrity gossip, and I don't objectify the actors. Those are my boundaries.

These are real people, with real feelings. I have heard some things recently that disappointed me, so I thought it appropriate to couch this in my objectification of Aemond and Daemond so people could see why this is an important distinction.

Consent.

If an actor does a job and blesses us with the film/television series, then, I feel, those images and those characters are fair game for fanfiction, objectification, and silliness. However, that does not extend to images they did not consent to have publicized. I go further in my own boundaries and feel that it should not extend to the person themself in general.

I always use Matt as an example because, well, y'all know. He is a human and has feelings. He will likely never see the ridiculous things I write on here, but I still consider him with every keystroke. Same with Ewan and Austin. Off my blog I may very well think a candid pic of Austin is hot, but I can't imagine objectifying him if those photos weren't intended for me.

I'll keep this as brief as possible. How would you feel? If you found photos/videos you didn't consent to being passed around the internet even if you were fully clothed in them, would you be flattered, embarrassed, disappointed?

I like to think that any actor (especially Matt) would react to our unhinged fan stuff the way others have. I consistently reference Graham Norton showing guests fanfiction and fan art. Tom Hiddleston, Benedict Cumberbatch, Martin Freeman, James McAvoy, and Michael Fassbender (to name a few) all laughed and took it in stride. The characters are fictional, our dolls to play with in our imagination, the people are real.

Treat others how you want to be treated.

[beardedjoel]

closer | part three

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au.

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3  

chapter summary: you try and avoid joel after your awkward kiss the other day, but it doesn’t take long for him to reel you right back in. 5.2k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), inexperienced reader, joel being a menace, more flirting, it’s gonna go DOWN next chapter, reader wears a cropped shirt and jean shorts, reader is described only as having hair

a/n: i hope you are all enjoying this so far! i’m so sorry this chapter definitely ends on a bit of an evil cliffhanger <3

You’re officially hiding from Joel. You realize you’re a grown woman and should be acting more mature about this, but you can’t seem to help the embarrassment that you feel when you even think about seeing him again. You wonder what he must think of you - just some silly girl, afraid of a fucking kiss, that’s what he’s got to think. 

You’ve done everything you can think of to stay out of his sight for the last day, although you haven’t noticed any activity over at his house this morning, so it’s safe to assume he’s working today. 

The only interaction you’ve had with him was when you thought you’d caught his eye after you came out of your shower yesterday, wrapped in only a towel. You thought better of it, but you couldn’t help the little power trip that having him see you naked through your window gave you the last time. So, pretending you don’t see him, you drop the towel, parading around your apartment looking for something to wear for the day. You know it was probably too far away for him to see if you made eye contact, but you were careful to not look in his direction too much and give yourself away. You’d left the house with a smug smile, wanting to gain back a little of the power you felt you lost when you’d embarrassed yourself.

You try to keep yourself busy - starting your day with some shopping that’s supposed to be for your new apartment in Austin when you find one, but it ends up turning into clothes shopping, or more specifically, underwear shopping. You bite the inside of your lip, holding up different pairs of sexy underwear, tilting your head as you look at them. Sure, you own plenty of pairs already, but you’re feeling the urge to add to your collection, trying to convince yourself it has nothing to do with Joel despite the passing thoughts wondering which color he’d like to see on you. You decide to call Sofia, your best friend from back in Chicago while you’re ambling through the air conditioned stores, trying to stay out of the house as long as possible. 

“So, if I’m hearing you right, you’re telling me that you're embarrassed because you two kissed? Didn’t you want to kiss him?” Sofia says into your ear, sounding incredulous.

“Ugh, it’s not that. It’s that I fucking jumped when he tried to put his hand on my ass, like some teenage virgin or something,” you groan. 

“I think you’re overthinking it,” she tells you, “Like, it sounds like he was understanding, right?”

“I don’t know, I think so. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me, I just get crazy when I’m around him. I wish you could just see him and understand what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, first of all, I can’t believe you haven’t taken any sneaky pics of him for me yet - it’s truly offensive as your best friend that you haven’t shown me apparently the hottest man alive yet,” Sofia starts, and you laugh. “Secondly, I think you need to just… move on from being embarrassed about it. I know that sounds harsh, but seriously, it sounds like he’s into you.”

“I don’t know… how could he be?” you muse, feeling insecure. You’ve just been unable to see what Joel could find alluring in you when he could have someone more put together, more attractive, less shy around him, the list goes on. 

“You’re kidding me… you’re young, you’re hot, and did you already forget the part where he kissed you back and tried to grab your ass?”

You laugh. “Okay, you do have a point, Soph.”

“Of course I do. You’d better get back over there and kiss him again, and don’t even think about texting me or calling me again until you do,” she says, and you scoff in fake hurt. “Okay, not that last part, just kiss him, but please update me every 10 seconds because I miss you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I miss you too,” you say to her with a chuckle, before you wrap up your conversation, knowing she’s right, that it’s really not that big of a deal. You just hate how you feel like you’re constantly embarrassing yourself in front of Joel. By now, it’s the early evening, and you’ve managed to stay away for most of the day, avoiding both Joel and your own thoughts with some good old retail therapy and talking to Sofia. 

You take your dinner outside, a grilled cheese and chips, your favorite summer meal since you were a kid, and sit down on a lounge chair. You sit cross legged with your plate and book in front of you, taking in the way the heat of the day has finally turned into that perfect, comfortable evening temperature. You see no sign of Joel, no lights on at his house, and decide to enjoy a few moments of solitude knowing he can’t spot you right now. You get completely lost in your reading, one of the few reprieves you have these days, so you fail to notice lights flickering on next door until a loud, rumbling laugh catches your attention.

You feel like a deer in headlights as you peer over at the source of the noise and see Joel emerging out of his back door, someone trailing closely behind him. He’s wearing what looks like work clothes, although you haven't seen him dress in a whole lot other than t-shirts and jeans, and he has a six pack of beer in one hand. The other man next to him bears some resemblance, the same dark hair and tan skin, although he has a more boy-ish appearance than Joel does, and you assume it’s his brother that he’d mentioned, Tommy. 

You don’t know if you should move, run, or hide - a real classic flight or… flight situation. Luckily, it seems like Joel is occupied enough with his brother’s visit that his eyes haven’t made it over in your direction at all. You wonder if there’s an occasion, or they’re just having an after work beer, which you somehow find endearing, like everything else he does. They sit down on Joel’s patio table, supposed-Tommy sitting across from Joel, facing your direction. Good, this is good, you think, he doesn’t know who you are, so why would you catch his attention? You’re still trying to decide your next move, but find seeing Joel is a distraction from even that. You decide to try and sneak away without being noticed

“Hey,” Joel says, calling your name with a wave as you’re halfway up the stairs to your apartment. You groan internally, and grimace slightly before turning around. You’ve been spotted, and feel you have no choice but to engage now. You make it to the fence line between your yards, realizing you’re still awkwardly holding your empty dinner plate and book, and that combined with seeing Joel, turned around in his chair, looking at you, makes you already want to sprint away.

“Hi…” you say, trying to speak up but finding it hard right now.

“This is my brother, Tommy, the one I was tellin’ you about,” Joel says, and there’s something different about his voice, but you can’t quite place it yet. You furrow your brow, but then relax your face, not wanting to be rude. Tommy gives a little glance at you, and then Joel, as if trying to piece together why we’d been talking about him.

“Howdy,” Tommy says with a wave and a friendly smile. At the least, he seems disarming enough that your nerves are settled a bit.

“You joinin’ us for a beer, or what?” Joel says, and that’s when you place it. Joel’s is drunk, or at least tipsy. You think they must have had some beers prior to the six pack they’ve just started drinking. You’re not sure what to do with this information, how to feel about it, but you’re intrigued to see this side of Joel. Tommy, completely unaware of your pain, gives you a hopeful smile, urging you to come over. 

“Um, yeah, sure,” you say, and the nervous pit that’s been living in your stomach for days lurches. You want to forget the other day happened, just be normal around Joel, and think that maybe having a drink could be a good start. “Hang on,” you add, holding a finger up before you run up to your apartment, discarding your plate and book, and run back out, not before double checking how you look in the mirror. You scowl a little, feeling like you look spent from your recent sleep deprivation.

You join them a few moments later, awkwardly settling yourself down into one of the chairs. Tommy pulls a bundle of keys out of his pocket, using his bottle opener keychain to crack open one of the beers and starts handing it in your direction before suddenly stopping.

“Wait. You old enough to drink this?” he asks, eyeing you suspiciously. You laugh, not entirely sure if you should feel flattered by the comment. If anything, it makes you feel even more self conscious about the kiss you and Joel shared, your cheeks warm and buzzing just at the memory.

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’m 25,” you respond, and you can see Joel’s gaze shoot over to you as the number comes out of your mouth. You knew he had to have been wondering your age, and while you assumed he had a likely guess, he’s never asked you directly. Tommy gives over the beer to you with a smile now, asking your name. You tell him and he tries to make casual conversation.

“So, I see you and my brother have gotten acquainted then. New neighbors?”

“Kind of,” you say, and you explain the situation with your parents to him.

Tommy laughs, looking over at Joel. “Imagine one of us, doin that with Mom and Dad… whew, we’d have gone crazy. They’re lucky they’ve got a good daughter like you,” he says kindly, and you decide you rather like Tommy now that you’ve met him. He has a welcoming, warm energy that you’re extra appreciative of right now.

Joel chuckles at his brother’s comment, looking between the both of you. “She’s an angel, this one,” Joel says, his gaze landing on you again, and giving a small wink. You smirk and humbly bow your head at their comments. Mostly, you need to get out of seeing Joel’s piercing brown eyes looking at you. 

Tommy continues to ask you questions about your life - your time in college, growing up in San Antonio, what kind of hobbies you have. He’s a fun conversationalist, and he makes you feel listened to, looking at you with interest at every answer you throw at him. You manage to squeeze in a few questions of your own, but it seems like Tommy is more interested in hearing about you. Joel is mostly sitting back, listening, laughing here and there and throwing in some of his own comments. But every time you look over at him, it’s as if he’s just… absorbing you with his eyes, hanging on every word you’re saying about yourself. His stare is intimidating in its own way, and you find yourself equally averting it but unable to keep peeking over at him.

You’re now about two beers deep and can feel the light, warm feeling of it coursing through you. This isn’t so bad, after all, you think - you can totally be normal around Joel after your awkward, embarrassing encounter the other day. You’re lulled into a sense of security, enjoying this evening with the Miller brothers, watching them bicker here and there and just letting the conversation flow naturally. They both have a little color on their cheeks as they laugh hard at some inside joke and memory, your smile growing just at seeing how hard they’re laughing - it’s adorable, you think to yourself with a huge grin.

Your parents must have let Benny out in the yard, because he catches Tommy’s attention as he runs over to the fence line and barks at you, probably wondering what the hell you’re doing over there, and not at home with him.

“Now who’s that cute fella?” Tommy asks you, smiling at Benny wagging his tail and panting by the fence.

“That’s Benny, my parents’ dog,” you tell him.

“Ah…” Tommy says, looking over at Joel knowingly, then right at you. “So you’re the reason my brother was late the other day,” he says with a smirk. You are in the middle of sipping your beer, and you immediately choke at Tommy’s words, the bottle falling out of your hands as you cough. It lands on the table with a loud thud, beer going everywhere - on your clothes, on the table, even some spitting out of your mouth as you choke.

“Oh shit,” you yell out in between coughs, quickly jumping up and standing back, seeing the beer dripping off of you, a large puddle on the table. You’re suddenly very aware of just how tipsy you are from the almost two drinks you’ve had - you forget how much of a lightweight you are sometimes. “S-sorry,” you say, trying to brush some of the liquid off of your arms and shirt, but you just end up making a bigger mess.

Tommy and Joel jump up with little chuckles, quickly ready to begin cleaning up the mess. “S’alright darlin’,” Joel says quickly, “Bathroom’s inside and down to the left, why don’t you go clean yourself up a bit,” he suggests to you, while he and Tommy get to work cleaning the mess with the beach towel he still had outside from the other day when you two got caught in the rain.

You rush off into the house, beer dripping off of you, barely bothering to inspect Joel’s house despite desperately wanting to. The sun has gotten much lower in the sky since you arrived over at Joel’s, so his house is relatively dark, and you search down the hallway clumsily, finding your way to the bathroom. Once the light is on, you blink a few times to adjust, and quickly grab the nearest towel, dabbing your arms dry. It’s not much use, considering your clothes are pretty well soaked, but you wet the towel and try wiping your shirt down a bit anyway. You take a few extra moments to calm yourself, feeling slightly dizzy from the alcohol and the way Joel has been stealing glances at you all evening. One more deep breath and you decide you’ll leave the bathroom, excuse yourself, and head back home to shower and change. Does Tommy know? Your brain is running off with the idea quickly before even having all of the information. Maybe he just meant the part about Joel’s injury, but you can’t help but picture that little smirk he had on his face. Fuck, you can’t stay, you can’t take it anymore, being around Joel like this after knowing what it felt like to kiss him, having Tommy seeming to know about it.

You open the door, steady your feet slightly, and turn down the hallway, and Joel is standing in the shadows, waiting for you. It causes you to jump a little, seeing his broad form just standing, leaning a shoulder against the wall.

“Oh, uh, I can grab some more towels, to help clean up,” you offer, unsure of what he’s trying to do right now, but Joel doesn’t seem to hear you or care, and he approaches you quickly, crowding his body close to you and you end up with your back against the nearest wall. Joel is standing practically up against you, but his hands are still at his sides. He’s trying so hard not to touch you, to grab your hips and pull them against his. to cup your face and crash his mouth into yours. Fuck, he’d said to himself that he was going to let you come to him, but he can’t help it as his hand twitches towards you. 

“You’ve been avoidin’ me, pretty girl,'' Joel says, and he’s slurring a little. He didn’t seem that drunk to you, maybe just buzzed, enough that he’s coming off slightly different than normal. Hearing him call you ‘pretty girl’ sends you speechless, as his pet names always seem to do.

“I - I -“ you stutter, unsure of how to answer. You have been avoiding him, but don’t know how to tell him that, since it seems childish now that you’re faced with it. His large body is pressed so close to yours and you desperately want to lean into it, your mind scrambling completely at the proximity of him. 

“S’okay, sweet girl,” he slurs, sending another pulse of desire through you with another new pet name. His hands slowly come up and rest on your waist, the feeling of his strong hands wrapped around either side of you sends what feels like a jolt of electricity through you.

”I just can’t stay away… said I would, but look at you,” he says, letting his tipsy brain spill all his thoughts as he looks down at you, glancing up and down your body and resting his eyes on your face. “Just tell me what you want, ‘cause I know what I want,” he says teasingly, his voice going lower. 

“And… What do you want?” you finally muster the courage to ask him, lifting your eyes to search his face. You find his dark eyes staring back, lustful and heavy lidded. You gulp down the excited, panicky feeling you seem to continuously get around him and feel your stomach churning with desire.

Joel hums low, the sound deep and suggestive, followed by a small chuckle, pressing his forehead to yours delicately. One hand reaches up from your waist and gently touches your arm, and you can tell he’s holding back, practically restraining himself as his breathing quickens along with your own. 

“You need me to say it?” Joel asks, “Need to hear me say what I wanna do to you?” He groans a little, his hands tightening on your hip and your arm where he’s holding them, pulling you a bit closer to him. 

Your breath catches in your throat a little and you don’t know when, but you’ve started shaking slightly with anticipation. You feel the familiar aching between your legs once Joel’s body is pressed even closer to yours. You can smell the beer and the musk of him as you lean your head slightly, causing your nose to nudge his as you nod slightly, awaiting his answer. You’re curious to know exactly what he wants to do to you, and in fine detail. 

Joel takes a breath in to answer, but a sound from down the hallway towards the kitchen takes you both out of the moment - someone clearing their throat. You gasp and try to leap back from Joel, but the wall is right there, still leaving you at Joel’s mercy. Joel pulls back, but only slightly, as if he doesn’t care that Tommy is standing right there, watching all of this.

“Just came for some paper towels, but I see I’m… interrupting something,” Tommy says cooly, and his tone isn’t like you’d heard before, it’s much less warm and genial. He’s upset, you realize, and you think maybe he has every right to be, knowing how young you are compared to his brother.

“I- I’m so sorry,” you mumble, and to whom you’re apologizing, you’re not even sure. You start to slide out from under Joel’s form, still so dangerously close to you, and his hand falls from your arm, letting you go. “I should, I should go…” you mumble as you brush past him and start rushing towards Tommy to cut through the kitchen to the back door. You stop abruptly, awkwardly near Tommy and without looking him in the eyes, say, “It was nice meeting you,” before making a beeline for the back door. What the fuck had just happened? you think to yourself over and over as you burst through the door to your apartment, standing with your back against it for several moments to try and collect yourself.

“Jesus Christ, Joel, I was joking about her being the reason you were late,” Tommy chides, leaning back against the counter in Joel’s kitchen. “I didn’t realize… whatever the hell that was… was going on.”

Joel sighs, running a hand down his face, his buzz quickly wearing off at his younger brother’s scolding. “Tommy, it’s not anything. I’m gonna need you to mind your damn business for once in your life,” Joel retorts, feeling frustration rising up quickly in his chest.

“Right, just forget I saw that? She’s 25, Joel.” Tommy sets down the beer he was holding on the counter next to him and crosses his arms.

“It’s not that big of a deal, she’s just sweet on me, I think. I was a little drunk and she was… just there,” Joel replies, knowing his argument is weak, falling apart by the minute.

“And so you’re just, what? Egging her on for the fun of it? It ain’t a game, Joel.” Tommy’s tone is getting more serious, gearing up for an argument with his brother.

“God damn it, I realize that, Tommy,” Joel says, his voice rising dramatically. Tommy cocks his head, his eyebrows drawn, studying his brother as the realization begins to dawn on him.

“You don’t… Joel tell me you don’t have feelings for her.” Tommy sighs, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“You don’t think I know it’s wrong? That I wanna be with someone nearly twenty years younger? Fucking hell, brother, I know it.”

“Shit…” Tommy says simply, at a loss for words right now. They stand in an awkward silence, Joel shifting from one leg to another, unsure of where to even go next with this conversation.

“Look, I’ve been trying. To avoid it, that is. Really hard, I’m trying…” Joel trails off, and Tommy looks over at him again, a softer look in his eyes now that he’s coming down from his anger.

“But…” Tommy urges him on.

“Seems you already know. Don’t know if I can stop seein’ her,'' Joel shrugs.

“Listen, you know I’ve done my fair share of stupid shit in my life so I’m not one to talk. She’s a sweet gal, though, and you shouldn’t be fuckin’ around with her like that.”

Joel sighs even more deeply. “I know you aren’t gonna believe me when I say this, but… I want to treat her right, Tommy. It’s not a game to me, swear.”

Tommy looks over at his brother skeptically. Sure, he believes his brother, but can Joel really follow through on that? He isn’t so sure. “My advice? Stay away from her,” Tommy says with finality, taking another swig from his beer. 

“Good thing I didn’t ask for your advice,” Joel says quickly, narrowing his eyes at him. 

“Why do you care so much, Joel? You don’t need to be messing with a young girl’s life, drag her into your shit.”

“First off, it seems she’s interested in me, and she knows she’s not my age, she ain’t stupid. She can make her own decisions.” Joel crosses his arms and stares his brother down.

“And secondly…?”

“She’s a sweet girl, kind, funny, and…beautiful, of course, but that’s besides the point, I think. Somethin’ about her… I can’t explain, Tommy.”

“So it’s more than just wanting to fuck her?” Tommy says, still suspicious of Joel’s intentions.

“I don’t know yet, if I’m honest,” Joel starts, scratching the back of his neck. “I think so. But we haven’t…” Joel admits before he can stop himself, feeling a little color creep onto his cheeks. Tommy sighs again, his frustration still palpable, but he breaks a little bit.

“Jesus, Joel,” Tommy breathes out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you’re not going to listen to me, just be careful, please?”

“I will,” Joel says firmly, and he means it. He doesn’t have any intention of hurting you, or messing with your life. He does want to fuck you, very badly, in fact, but he’s pretty sure it’s more than that at this point - he wants to spend time with someone sweet like you, someone who is kind and generous and loving. He’s found during the conversations this evening that he’s more attracted to you than even he realized, and he knows that Tommy is right, he’s completely fucked up for wanting to be with you like that. He knows deep down that his brother’s advice is sound, but after seeing you giggling all evening at their jokes, hearing the passion with which you talk about your hobbies and life, getting close enough to breathe in your delicious scent again, he knows he’s absolutely doomed. There’s no staying away from you.

Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover it. You want nothing more than to hide away forever, and yes, you realize you’re being dramatic, but having Tommy walk in on you and Joel all over each other wasn’t how you’d wanted to end your evening. You practically felt like you’d gone home with your tail between your legs, and you’ve been moping around for the last hour after you’d showered the beer off and changed into your pajamas. A quiet knock on your door before it opens alerts you, and you look up from your bed to see your mother coming in.

“Sorry to bother you, honey,” she starts, stepping tentatively into the room. You sit up on the bed and try to give her your best smile.

“No, that’s alright, mom, what’s up?” you say, your own voice coming out a bit strained sounding to you. She eyes you a little suspiciously, but decides to continue on.

“Just wanted to say hi,” she says, smiling at you, and you realize you’ve been so preoccupied with your own shit that you’ve barely bothered to check in on them when they are home from work. “And I’d just meant to say thank you the other day for fixing that cabinet. You know it was driving me nuts,” she says, straightening up some pillows and blankets on the couch before sitting down. You pause for a moment, debating on what Joel had said about you taking credit, but it felt… awkward to lie about. 

“Actually, it was uh, Joel… Miller from next door,” you admit sheepishly, worried about any follow up questions she might have. You’re not a great liar, and you worry she would see right through you if you tried to hide the way just talking about him makes you giddy, despite the conflict regarding him raging through you right now.

“Oh?” she says, urging you to continue with her head tilting. Your mom’s eyebrows are raised, and she looks absolutely enraptured by what you’re going to say next. She’s a sucker for random acts of kindness, you know. 

“He saw me trying to fix the gate, and then asked if there was anything else we needed help with, so… yeah. He works as a contractor, I guess, so he knew what he was doing. Unlike me.” Your face lights up a little just talking about him but the room is dimly lit enough you think it might hide it from her.

“We’ll have to thank him. That’s awfully nice, isn’t it?” your mom says with a smile, suddenly getting up. “Let me make him something, some cookies, oh, or a pie, and you can bring it over,” she rambles mostly to herself, already halfway to the door to put her plan to action. You groan - she is absolutely insane, thinking about making a whole pie at seven thirty in the evening, you think, rolling your eyes. The thought quickly strikes you that it would be a good excuse to see Joel again if you had a reason to go over to his place, and your heart rate picks up a bit. Maybe it would help, you think, if you were able to just try and talk things out with him. You haven’t stopped thinking about the question he’d asked you earlier - to tell him what you want. 

You think you finally have your answer. You know exactly what you want, and you’re pretty sure that you’re feeling brave enough to tell him tonight. You’re tired of hiding, of feeling too embarrassed to even look at him. You need things to progress one way or another, you decide.

You follow your mom back to the main house, helping her in the kitchen, and about thirty minutes later she has fresh chocolate chip cookies out of the oven and is plating them up with you. Your mother never ceases to amaze you when she gets into a mood like this - she’s one of the most efficient people you’ve ever met. She hands you the cookies with a smile, urging you to go deliver them now. 

“It’s kind of late, don’t you think?” you ask, wanting to make sure you don’t seem too eager.

She frowns a little as she glances at the clock. “I don’t know…” she says, and you can see the familiar overthinking anxiety taking over her instantly.

“That’s alright, mom, I got this. I’ll just run them over right now, I think he stays up kind of late, I’ve seen him out in the yard past eight o'clock before,” you reassure her, half for your own reasons, you think with a hint of guilt.

“Oh, good, thank you, honey,” your mom replies, a relieved grin coming over her face. “I just want to make sure we get off to a good start with our neighbors.” You almost laugh, thinking she doesn’t have to worry about that too much with the things you’re hoping to do with him.

“I’ll probably head back to the apartment and get some sleep after, so we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” you tell her. You want to have an excuse if in case, and the thought alone makes you want to squeal, anything happens that keeps you at Joel’s longer than they’d expect you to be there. 

You leave out the back door, quickly rushing up to your apartment to change your clothing and get ready. You put on your favorite cropped tank top, tight around your chest, and it’s in a blue color that you think looks great on you. You choose your shortest pair of jean shorts for the bottom of your ensemble, feeling a little ridiculous putting on as little clothing as possible for him. You rush to your mirror, tousling your hair a bit to make sure it looks in place. You can’t believe you’re doing this for what’s supposed to be a quick visit, but you dab on a bit of makeup - some mascara and a hint of blush, just to give you a fresh look. You take a deep breath and smooth your hair one more time before leaving down the stairs, making your way to the front of Joel’s house. You have to do this before you lose your nerve, you think to yourself, mentally urging your shaking hand forward. You inhale one more time before knocking on the door, feeling your stomach flipping with anticipation as it starts to open.

[lindszeppelin]

My Favorite Austin Pics  [12 / ∞]  

[punkshort]

something only you can give

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You, Joel and Sarah head to NYC for a long weekend and celebrate New Years Eve together.

Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat - reader is on BC) unprotected piv sex, soft!joel, slight jealousy/possessiveness, a little cheesy because this is still a Hallmark-type story

WC: 8.2K

A/N: I had so many requests for more from this couple, and the original story was so successful, so I thought up a little NYE story. Also I absolutely needed to use this pic for something because it's haunting my dreams. Hope you enjoy ✨

Series Masterlist

Wednesday

"Oh my god! Look, Dad! You can see the Statue of Liberty!" Sarah squealed, yanking on Joel's shoulder to make him look out of the tiny, oval window of the airplane. Joel smiled as he leaned over to peer out.

"Looks cold out there, hope you're ready," he told her, looking down at the darkened, snow covered streets.

"It gets cold in Texas, too," Sarah scoffed.

"Not like this," Joel told her, sitting back in his seat.

His hand dipped over the armrest to find yours, your fingers lacing together, making you smile and pull out your earbuds.

"Hey," he said softly, his dark brown eyes sparkling with excitement. You grinned and wondered if this man would ever not give you butterflies. You hoped not.

"What do you wanna do tonight?" you asked him, running your thumb over his dry knuckles. He shrugged.

"Let's just check into the hotel and get some room service or somethin'," he said. "You got a big day tomorrow, you need your sleep."

He wasn't wrong. Your trip had multiple purposes. Tomorrow, you had to go back into your office to collect some computer equipment in order to work from home, back in Austin. Then on Friday, you planned to rent a U-Haul and load up all your belongings from Melanie's apartment. You had hoped to time it so that you could go there while she was at work, but the unfortunate part was she worked in the same office as you. So, you had to just hope all your meetings tomorrow would keep you busy enough that you didn't run into her at all while you were there.

And since this trip was technically your Christmas gift to Joel and Sarah, you planned on exploring the city together the rest of the time. Sarah already had a list of things she was desperate to see while you were there, and you planned on checking off as many as you could.

"I'm so excited to stay in a hotel!" Sarah said after overhearing you and Joel. "I only got to stay in one once, when I was super little. I barely even remember."

"I remember plenty," Joel said, rolling his eyes. "You wouldn't fall asleep til almost two in the morning. Drove me nuts."

Before you knew it, the pilot was announcing the plane's descent into JFK. By the time you filed off the plane and collected your luggage (and 45 minutes spent at the lost luggage counter claiming the suitcase you checked the week before when you decided to skip your flight) you were all exhausted. You yawned as you leaned up against the check in counter at the hotel, your arm around Sarah's shoulders as she rested her head against you, waiting for the receptionist to make your keys. You took one from Joel's outstretched hand as you filed into the elevator, your luggage in tow.

"What's our room numbers?" Sarah asked sleepily. You looked down at the card in your hand as you stepped off the elevator.

"305 and 306, they're right next to each other. I'll knock in the morning before I head out and say bye," you told her, heading down the long carpeted hall with a dizzying pattern. Sarah frowned.

"I don't get the extra room?"

"No, you're with me," Joel said, swiping the card and pushing the door open.

"But Dad!" Sarah whined. Joel sighed and held the door, waiting for her to come in the room. He raised his eyebrows at her when she didn't move.

"Let's get a move on, I'm beat," he urged, but she just made a face and crossed her arms.

"Why would you two sleep apart? That doesn't make any sense," Sarah countered, and you felt the tips of your ears burn as you stood in front of the other door, the key hovering over the lock, waiting to bid them good night.

"You're too young to be on your own," Joel began to explain, but she shook her head defiantly.

"I'm sixteen, Dad. Please? Pretty please? I'll be right next door, it'll be fine!"

Joel sighed again and rubbed the palm of his hand over his face.

"You're lucky I'm too tired to be arguin' with you," he muttered, stepping back out into the hall to look at you. "You okay with that?"

"Y-yeah, of course," you stammered, handing Sarah your hotel key, which she took excitedly with a triumphant smile spread wide across her face. "It is your Christmas gift, after all."

"You wanna order somethin' to eat with us at least?" Joel asked her as you walked past him into the room.

"I'm not that hungry," she said, opening the door. "Let's just go for a big breakfast tomorrow." And with that, she disappeared inside her room.

"Sorry," Joel told you as he set his bag down on the spare queen bed.

"Oh, I think I'll get over it," you teased with a wink. You pulled back the covers and collapsed on your back with a groan, closing your tired eyes.

Joel's lips brushed gently over yours, and a slow smile spread across your face. Without opening your eyes, you lifted your arms to wrap loosely around his neck, pulling him down to you. Even though you felt like you could sleep for a year, you couldn't get enough of him.

"You hungry?" you asked him when he finally pulled back.

"Not for food," he said with a smirk, nipping at your jaw, and you felt your cheeks flare with heat.

You twirled your fingers around his curls and hummed against his mouth, trying to stifle a yawn, but Joel noticed.

"You got a big day tomorrow," he reminded you again, kissing the tip of your nose, and you nodded.

"I know, but -"

"It's okay, baby. Go get ready for bed. We're here all weekend," he said, giving you a quick kiss before helping you up.

You headed to the bathroom begrudgingly. You knew he was right, but it was so hard to not take advantage of every single private moment you possibly could. You wouldn't stay the night at Joel's house if Sarah was there. He claimed she wouldn't mind, but it just didn't feel right. However, you hoped to open up more possibilities for you both when you got back to Texas and begin checking out all the apartments your sister, Cassie, very eagerly found for you.

Thursday

You adjusted your skirt as your train came to your usual stop. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it was really just a month since you last made this commute, and you came to realize you absolutely did not miss it. The rude people shoving past, the weird smells of the subway station, and the delightful random power outages that made you late for work left little to be desired. You kept telling yourself this was the last time you would have to make this trip as you trudged up the steps and onto the bustling street. You wrapped your scarf tighter around your face as the blistering wind took your breath away. By the time you made it the four blocks to your office, your eyes were watering from the cold and wind. You took a moment to dab at the corners of your eyes before heading into the lobby and to the elevators.

You made a beeline for your cubical, trying to keep your head down and avoid getting caught in any conversations that would just end with the other person being nosy. You had no doubt rumors were swirling around the office when those pictures of Will and Melanie appeared on Instagram. Combined with the fact that you were conveniently out of town for the month made for the juiciest office gossip.

Opening up your Outlook, you confirmed the first meeting you had was with Brian in IT in less than ten minutes. You had just enough time to use the bathroom and grab some coffee before he met you at your desk with all your required equipment. He spent the next hour going over in painstaking detail how to set up all of the devices while you furiously took notes. Fortunately, none of it seemed bulky or heavy, so you wouldn't have a problem getting it on and off the subway.

Next, you had a meeting with HR to review a revised contract now that you were accepting a fully remote position, even though it was the exact same job you were doing before, it required all new paperwork.

By lunchtime, you finally managed to get an hour to yourself. You snuck out of the office to grab a sandwich at your favorite deli and checked in with Joel.

You: busy morning, my head is spinning... can't wait to leave - what are you guys up to?

Joel: Sarah wanted to see Central Park. Figured I would spare you, it's freezing out here but I can't get her away from the damn ice rink.

You: try not to get run over this time ;)

Joel: I only let that happen when you're around to save me.

You giggled to yourself as you walked down the street back to your office, the cold air not bothering you so much anymore.

You: ah I should have known it was all an act. Nobody could ever bring Joel Miller to his knees

Joel: Just you, baby.

You blushed and sent him a quick heart emoji before pocketing your phone and heading back into your building.

As you got off the elevator, you were distracted thinking about Joel and Sarah, wishing that you could be with them instead of stuck in your stuffy office building all day, but you comforted yourself with the fact that you'll all be crammed into a U-Haul truck for almost two days soon enough.

You had your head down, rummaging through your purse and not paying attention when you heard a familiar voice nervously say your name as you passed. You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat and turned around. You knew the odds of seeing her were pretty high, but since you managed to avoid her all morning, you had convinced yourself you might just get through the whole day.

"Hi, Melanie," you said, your voice strained.

"You look good!" she replied, giving you a cheesy grin. You nodded and forced a small smile in return.

"I was gonna stop by and get my stuff during the day tomorrow, if that's okay," you said, and she quickly nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Hey, listen... did you have a minute? I think we should talk," she asked, chewing her lower lip nervously. You glanced around the hallway, noting the looks you were getting from your coworkers who were no doubt trying to eavesdrop. You looked down at the time on your phone, your heartbeat slowing a fraction when you saw the picture of you and Joel kissing under the mistletoe as your background.

"I only have ten minutes," you said, hoping to dissuade her, but unfortunately she eagerly accepted your offer.

"Here, why don't we go into conference room B, there's no meetings scheduled," she said, leading you to the door, away from prying eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Melanie blurted out the moment she shut the door. "I was wasted. It's not an excuse, but I swear it only happened after you broke up. And it's over now."

When you saw the pictures, you had just assumed she was the girl Will was cheating on you with when you caught lipstick smeared on his neck after a night out. She could have been lying, but you weren't sure what the point would be, other than to try to clean up her reputation.

"That was really fucked up," you told her. You couldn't help it. It still stung to be betrayed by not only the man you were ready to spend your life with, but one of your closest friends, as well.

"I know," Melanie said, tears welling in her eyes. "You don't have to forgive me, I get it. But I just needed to tell you to your face. I just feel so awful that you're leaving town over it."

"Oh, I'm not moving because of you or Will," you said, taken aback. "Is that what people think?"

"I-I don't know. Maybe? It doesn't matter. Just as long as you're happy," she said, giving you what felt like a genuine smile.

"I'm moving because I met someone," you clarified. "Back home. In Texas, over Christmas."

"Oh, that's great! Good for you!" Melanie said, giving your shoulder a playful nudge, and you frowned.

You were about to argue with her, sensing that she didn't believe you and she was trying to help you save face, but you let it go. It didn't matter, anyway.

"I should be getting back, I have a meeting with Mike soon to go over this remote work thing," you told her, referring to your boss.

"I think it's great they allowed you to do that," she said, and you swore it sounded a little condescending, but you couldn't be certain.

"They offered it to me, actually. I didn't ask. I was giving them my resignation. Guess they really like my work or something, huh?"

You gave her a mocking smile as you headed back to your cube. At the end of the day, you were happy, and ironically it turned out to be the best thing that could have ever happened to you. But you didn't want to tell her that. It wasn't your responsibility to absolve her or anyone else of the guilt they had for what they did.

Joel met you down at the lobby when you texted and let him know you were getting off the subway. When he saw you lugging bags of computer equipment under your arm, he quickly rushed over to take it from you.

"Thank you," you said in relief, clenching your sore hand. He leaned down to press a soft kiss against your lips, and all the aggravation you still carried with you from earlier vanished. You were home.

"Have a good day?" he asked as you walked over to the elevator bank.

"Uh," you said, not really interested in rehashing your conversation with Melanie. "It was alright. Missed you guys a lot, though. Did you have fun?"

"Sarah had a great time. After the park, I took her to some cupcake spot she heard about online, then she swindled me into shoppin' for clothes. I think she's up there going through all her new stuff right now," he told you with a grin, jabbing the 3 button in the elevator.

You laughed and shook your head. Joel loved spoiling his daughter, he just liked to pretend otherwise.

"What should we do tonight?" you asked him as you followed him down the hall towards your room.

"Sarah wanted to try this Chinese restaurant nearby, you like Chinese?" he asked over his shoulder, realizing at the last minute he actually had no idea.

"Sure I do," you said with a grin.

"Then after, thought we could check out some huge tree. Probably won't get another chance for a long time."

"You mean the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree?" you asked, and he snapped his fingers.

"That's the one."

You giggled, as if there was another one that could compare to the most famous Christmas tree in the world.

After dinner, where Sarah insisted you all order something different and share, you headed to Rockefeller Plaza. As expected, it was insanely crowded, but none of you cared. The tree was massive and lit up in front of a huge ice rink, where families and couples glided around giggling and falling into each other.

Mercifully, Sarah said she got her fill of ice skating earlier in the day, so the three of you found an empty spot against the railing to watch all the skaters and admire the tree. Sarah pulled out her phone to take pictures, scurrying a few feet in both directions to try to get the best angle while Joel stood behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist and his prickly chin resting in the crook of your neck.

For the first time in a long time, Joel felt content. He felt like he had everything he could ever want: his little girl was happy and he had someone who loved him, someone who cared for him and wanted to be with him just as badly as he wanted to be with you. And the way you were with Sarah made his heart swell with so much love, he thought it might burst. It finally felt like the last puzzle piece in his life was found, a piece he didn't even realize he needed to survive until he met you.

The three of you walked slowly back to your hotel. Joel's hand linked with yours while Sarah skipped ahead, occasionally stopping and turning to look up at the huge skyscrapers in awe.

He watched as you laughed at Sarah's antics, your eyes lit up and your smile wide as she babbled on and on about how cool the city was and all the things she wanted to do tomorrow. You turned to look at him and when you noticed he had already been gazing at you with so much adoration, you blushed.

"What?" you asked when he didn't look away. "Do I have something in my teeth?" He laughed.

"Just can't believe I get to sleep next to the most beautiful girl in the world tonight," he said quietly so Sarah wouldn't overhear. The color on your cheeks deepened as you shook your head.

"There's literal models walking the streets here, you know," you teased.

"Seen 'em. They don't hold a candle to you," he said sincerely. You bit your lower lip, trying to contain your grin, and playfully shoved his shoulder.

"C'mon, charmer. Let's get back to the room," you told him, leaning into his arm and wrapping your free hand around his bicep, pulling him close.

"Tired?" he asked, watching Sarah shoot ahead a bit to look into the front windows of various shops.

"Nope," you said. His eyes shot over to yours and he smirked.

"Good."

Joel loved a lot of things about you. He loved the way you laughed, he loved how you pretended to like the action movies he suggested for movie night, and he loved how you insisted on helping him cook, just so you could be near him. But he especially loves the way you whisper his name breathlessly in his ear when he first sinks himself into you. The way you say it makes his heart flutter in his chest, like you were saying a prayer or sharing a secret that was only meant for his ears. Even throughout the day, whether he was at work or driving in the car or grocery shopping, he replayed it over and over in his head, like a mantra.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

He couldn't get enough of it. Like a catchy jingle that refused to leave his head. But nothing was like actually hearing it in his ear. It sent goosebumps all over his body every time. He rolled his hips and watched your lips part and your eyelids droop. It's only been a few weeks but you knew each others bodies so well, already. He never put much stock into the idea of soulmates, but for the first time in his life, he was starting to believe it. The instant connection you both had combined with the way your bodies fit so perfectly together left him with few other explanations.

Your fingers raked through his curls, nails gently scraping his scalp in just the right way that made a tingle shoot down his spine and a quiet moan slip past his lips. God, he fucking loved when you did that. He mentally added it to the ever growing list of reasons he loved you as his mouth descended upon your neck, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin while his lips leisurely roamed the column of your throat, stilling only when he found your pulse point thrumming steadily against his tongue.

If he could stay inside you forever, he would. His body constantly ached to be near you, to show you how much you meant to him, to prove to you he was devoted to you in every way. And the best part was, he felt all of that in return. Your hand always searched for his, whether you were in the car or walking down the street, you needed his touch just as badly as he craved yours. Even if it wasn't clear, the fact you gave up your whole life in this exciting city just to move to Texas more than proved your feelings for him.

"Joel," you whimpered again, your hands sliding from his hair to the sides of his head, dragging his face up so you could lock your lips with his. As the volume of your moans increased, he realized you were trying to muffle the sounds against his mouth, and the mere thought that he could give you so much pleasure that you couldn't even control the sound of your own voice made his knees weak.

"So beautiful," he gasped, pulling his face away so he could look at you, the pressure in his stomach building and his muscles tightening with every thrust. You bit down on your lower lip, trying desperately to stay quiet so his daughter wouldn't overhear in the next room. "Fuck, baby, you feel so good," he groaned softly, and watched as your eyes fluttered shut and your cheeks reddened at the compliment.

His big hand gripped your thigh, yanking it up so your leg hooked around his waist and he could delve deeper, his hips circling as he watched your face, waiting until he saw your eyes fly open and your jaw drop. Right there.

"Ohmygod," you whined, your brows pinching together as he felt your climax building around him.

"That's it," he mumbled hotly against your ear. He would never get tired of making you feel good. The way you fell apart for him like this made him feel like a man, like if he could do that for you, he could be capable of anything.

"I'm-" you began, but your gasp cut you off.

"I know, baby, I can feel it," he assured you, nibbling on your jaw. "Doin' so good."

Your nails dug into his bare shoulders as you hung onto him for dear life while your orgasm shot through you like lightning. You buried your face against his neck and let out a muffled scream that sounded like a garbled version of his name, and a lazy smile spread across his face.

"There we go," he said softly, his hips keeping up the same pace that brought you over the edge so you could ride out your orgasm as long as possible.

"I love you, Joel," you whispered hoarsely against his skin once you found your voice again.

"I love you, too, baby," he said with a grunt, chasing his own high now that he was certain you were satisfied. "God, love you so fuckin' much. Can't believe I went so long without you."

He frantically latched his mouth over yours as he felt himself spill inside you with a deep groan, his breaths ragged as his hips shallowly thrusted forward until he collapsed on top of you with a sigh of relief. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close with the side of his head resting against your chest as he listened to you catch your breath.

He felt you draw lazy circles over his back with your finger, and he was convinced he could fall asleep just like this if you let him.

"Joel?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think we're moving too fast?"

His eyes flew open and he tilted his chin up to look at you.

"Do you?"

"No," you said with a shake of your head, your finger still drawing patterns on his sensitive skin. "It's just - we've barely known each other for a month. Some people might find it shocking that we already say 'I love you'."

"It's not like we're teenagers," he said, nuzzling his face against your chest and closing his eyes. "I'm old enough to know how I feel 'bout you."

You grinned and kissed the top of his head.

"Me, too," you whispered, relieved to hear him say that. An insecure part of you had wondered if you pressured him into this relationship when you skipped your flight in favor of staying in Texas with him. He never gave you a reason to think otherwise, but considering how badly your last relationship ended and how you managed to ignore all the red flags, it was nice to hear Joel confirm it.

Friday

Luckily for you all, Melanie's building had a designated spot for moving trucks to temporarily park right outside the front door of the building. It was quiet, most of the residents were at work as you rode the elevator up to the 8th floor. You dug your keys out once the doors opened, and you led Joel and Sarah down the hallway and around the corner to Melanie's apartment.

"I don't have that much stuff," you assured them both as you unlocked the door. Joel shuffled a handful of flattened cardboard boxes inside and against the wall while Sarah dropped the bag of packing tape and bubble wrap on the kitchen counter.

"This place is so small, this is where you lived?" Sarah asked in disbelief. You laughed as you led her down the hall to the spare bedroom, where you had been bunking for just a few short days before you flew home to Texas for the holidays.

"I didn't stay here long. I used to live in a much bigger place, actually," you told her, opening the door and sighing at the work you had ahead of you. In your hurry to leave Will's apartment, you didn't exactly take much care in packing your things.

"Why did you move?"

"Sarah," Joel said in a warning tone, but you just shrugged.

"It's okay. I was engaged and living with the guy. It didn't work out," you told her, deciding not to get into specifics.

"How long were you together?"

"Sarah!" Joel scolded louder now.

"What?" she asked, clearly annoyed.

"Joel, it's fine, I'm over it," you laughed, waving him off as each of you began to construct the cardboard boxes. "Uh, long time. Seven years, give or take. We met in college," you told her.

Joel didn't even know that, although he had his suspicions based on pieces of information you had told him in the past. Still, hearing 'seven years' stunned him, although he knew he had no right to feel jealous. He was with his ex-wife for even longer, but he was a bit older than you, as well. But the thought of some man getting you to himself for that long and not even treating you the way you deserved set his teeth on edge.

The two of you spent most of the morning packing while Sarah continually got sidetracked looking through your purses and makeup. You took a short break after ordering in lunch, and by early afternoon you were close to finishing up.

"Shoot, I got a missed call from Tommy," Joel murmured, frowning down at his phone. "Didn't even hear it ring."

"There's really spotty reception in this building," you explained as you taped up a full box. "If you go down to the lobby, you should get a signal."

"Alright. You be good," he told Sarah, narrowing his eyes as he left the apartment.

Joel was pacing the lobby as he listened to Tommy on the other line.

"So, they brought us the wrong size?" Joel clarified. He reached up to rub his forehead with his spare hand and realized he had brought down a tape gun by mistake. Dropping his arm back down to his side, he turned around in the lobby as Tommy went into further detail about the mixup. He vaguely watched as a younger guy in an expensive looking suit tried the doors, then finding them locked, rang the bell for one of the apartments.

"Yeah so they sent us 6 size 8s when we really need 8 size 6s, right? I'll call 'em when we get back, but for now, go down to the other site on Summers. We should have size 6s there, then we'll replace 'em once I get it all sorted out."

An older lady walking her small dog got off the elevator and gave Joel a smile, which he returned with a quick nod. She held the door open for the younger man who was waiting to get buzzed in. His eyes landed on Joel, then he noticed the tape gun in his hand.

"Excuse me, are you the mover helping the girl in 807?"

Joel frowned and held up a finger. 807 was Melanie's apartment number.

"Tommy, lemme call you back," Joel said into the phone before ending the call. "Sorry, what was that?"

"You're the mover, right?" the young man asked again, now pointing to the U-Haul parked outside.

"In a way," Joel replied slowly, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. "Who are you?"

"Name's Will," he said, reaching out his arm to shake Joel's hand. If Will noticed Joel tense up and hesitate before forcing himself to shake his hand, he didn't let on.

"Joel. What can I do for you, Will?" Joel asked, doing his best to keep his emotions in check.

"The girl you're moving is my ex. I've been waiting to run into her and her friend told me - sorry, you don't care about any of this," Will realized with a chuckle.

"No, it's alright. Go ahead," Joel urged, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I messed up, and I came to try to get her back but I know she'll kill me if I go up there right now and surprise her," Will said, shifting his weight and fiddling nervously with his tie.

"How'd you mess up?" Joel couldn't help but ask, his body stiffening. You were his now. He wanted to set this little punk straight, but he bit his tongue.

"I cheated on her," he replied with a shrug. "I mean, it's New York! Everyone's sleeping with everyone, I didn't think she would get so pissed about it. But since she's been gone, I've been missing her, you know?"

"No, I don't know," Joel said, a frown etching his features now. He didn't appreciate the cavalier attitude he took when he spoke about hurting you. "Real men don't cheat on their women. They treat 'em with respect, treat 'em right. Sounds like she's better off, if you ask me."

Will stared at Joel for a moment, an awkward silence filling the lobby, but Joel didn't back down. He held his glare and waited for Will to make the next move.

"You sound like you're from the South," Will said.

"Yep."

"My girl's from Texas," he added, the wheels turning.

"Don't sound like she's your girl anymore," Joel couldn't help but remind him, and Will's jaw clenched.

"Right," Will finally said, eyeing Joel up and down one more time before turning to the elevator. He pressed the call button right as the doors slid open, revealing both you and Sarah each holding a box.

You didn't notice Will at first. Your eyes immediately found Joel's and you smiled, but then you took in the look on his face and your smile wavered. You shifted your gaze to Will and your eyes widened in shock when he gave you a warm smile and said your name in greeting.

"Will," you replied coldly, all the blood draining from your face as you forced yourself to step off the elevator so the doors wouldn't close.

He took a step towards you, leaning in to plant a kiss on your cheek, but you quickly stepped back. Joel had to hide his smirk as he held out his arms for the box you were holding.

"I'll take it to the truck," he assured you, and your wide eyes flicked back to Joel. You began to shake your head and he stopped you. As much as he wanted to stay and put this guy in his place, that wasn't going to happen. Not with his daughter right next to him. He trusted you implicitly, and if you needed his help, you would ask for it.

"I'll be right back," he said softly, and you slowly released your grip on the box to allow him to take it. "C'mon, Sarah," he said. Sarah gave you a confused look as she followed Joel out the front door behind you.

"Your mover's got a kid working for him?" Will tried to joke, but you just whipped your head around to glare at him.

"My what?"

"The mover you hired. Kind of a weird guy," Will said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"What do you want, Will?" you asked, anger flaring in your belly.

"I want you back," he said bluntly. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that to you. I got carried away, it's no excuse but all the guys I work with at the firm all have side pieces and I just lost sight of everything and what we had." He reached a hand out to try to take yours, but you crossed your arms defensively.

"C'mon, don't be like that. We have a history together. I said I was sorry."

"I don't give a shit," you spat. "I was with you since college, Will! I was there when you were broke and failing class and I fucking helped you! And the second you get an ounce of success, that's how you repay me?"

"Listen-"

"No, I'm done listening. I wasted way too many years on you, and I'm not interested in wasting another minute." You dropped your hands to your side, about to turn around to find Joel outside when his hand shot out and grabbed your shoulder.

"What are you gonna do, huh? You think you're gonna find anyone in Texas better than me? Think again, sweetheart," Will said with a scoff. You knocked his hand roughly off your shoulder.

"I already did, actually," you couldn't help but say smugly. "Joel."

"Joel? The mover?" Will asked, looking over your shoulder and out the glass lobby doors.

"He's not my mover, you asshole, he's my boyfriend," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Oh, wow, and he's got a kid? C'mon, you gotta see how that's a step down," Will replied, tossing his hands in the air in disbelief.

"Shut the hell up," you snapped, your voice rising. Joel swung the door open just as you were finishing your sentence. "She's amazing. And Joel treats me better than you ever did, and he actually knows how to make me come!"

Joel cleared his throat behind you and you spun around on your heel, heat immediately flooding your face. To your relief, Sarah was a few seconds behind and didn't walk into the lobby until you had already stopped speaking. You looked back and forth between Joel and Sarah, your eyes wide and your heart hammering in your chest. Joel tried his best to hide his smirk by looking down at his feet, but you could see his cheeks lift and the dimple appear on the side of his mouth.

"Fine," Will said curtly, brushing past you, clearly not appreciating the hit to his manhood. He locked eyes with Joel as he was about to leave.

"Good luck, man," Will said, shaking his head.

"Doesn't sound like I need it," Joel said over his shoulder with a grin. Will paused for a moment with his hand on the lobby door before pushing forward and walking back out onto the sidewalk.

"Uh, what was that about?" Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow at you and Joel. You turned away, trying to hide the color on your face and neck.

"Nothin', babygirl," Joel said, his grin still plastered across his face. He draped an arm over you and Sarah's shoulders as you waited for the elevator. "Nothin' at all."

Saturday - New Years Eve

You and Joel strolled hand in hand throughout the Museum of Modern Art, gazing at the art hanging from the ceiling overhead as you made your way to the next exhibit. Sarah led the way excitedly, her crumpled brochure tight between her fingers as she made sure you got to see every single piece of art the museum had to offer.

Yesterday, you had apologized profusely to Joel the moment you were alone and Sarah couldn't overhear. He had just looked at you in surprise, not understanding what could warrant an apology. He had never felt more proud when he heard the end of your argument with Will, but you explained you felt childish and immature. Maybe you were right, but that didn't stop him from feeling like he was on top of the world. And it also didn't stop him from joining you in the shower that morning to prove to you twice that he could, in fact, make you come.

If that made him immature, then so be it.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you watched Sarah lead you from piece to piece. She looked so happy and you were thrilled you were given the opportunity to be a part of her life and witness her unbridled joy for things you took for granted.

Something snapped in you when Will implied that Joel having a daughter would be a downgrade. You couldn't help your reaction, you saw red and jumped to their defense because they both meant the world to you, and you refused to let anybody say otherwise. Regardless of the history you had with Will, you realized it all meant nothing to him until he couldn't have you anymore. And once that clicked, that shared history no longer meant anything to you, either. The only thing that mattered was Joel, Sarah, and your family. Because those are the people who truly loved you, who loved you unconditionally, and that was all that mattered now.

After the museum, the three of you got hot dogs from a street vendor because according to Sarah, it wouldn't be a true New York experience without one. It had been a while since you had one, and you were surprised at how good it was. You grinned as you watched Sarah lick the mustard from her fingers and told her so far her to-do list was knocking it out of the park.

"Are you sure we can't go to Times Square tonight?" Sarah begged the both of you as you headed towards the Empire State Building next.

"People have been lining up there all morning," you explained. "We would waste the entire day, but I promise you'll still be able to see fireworks from anywhere in the city."

"It's way too cold and you gotta be squished up against people or else you lose your spot," Joel added. "Not my idea of a good time."

"Alright," Sarah said dejectedly, unable to hide her disappointment.

"Hey, I think I have a better idea," you told her, and she looked up at you expectantly. "Why don't we go up to the roof of the hotel tonight? You'll have a great view of the city and that way you could see all of the fireworks, in every direction. We can bring up snacks and blankets -"

"Yes!" Sarah squealed, jumping up and down. "Yes! That sounds perfect!"

Joel chuckled as he watched Sarah bounce around, talking animatedly with you as she already planned what snacks she wanted to buy, Times Square already long forgotten.

He gazed at you adoringly as you giggled with Sarah in front of him on the sidewalk. How did you always know what to do? The way you fit into their lives with such ease astounded him. He always thought he would end up alone after he and his ex divorced. He had never really considered a relationship, although he ached for someone like you for years, he focused all of his energy on Sarah and making sure she had everything she ever needed. But watching the two of you together just solidified what he and his daughter were both missing in their lives. You brought this beautiful energy and light into everything you did, and suddenly he didn't seem to mind all the years he spent so alone, because now that you were here, it all made sense. He was just waiting for you.

You and Sarah juggled all of the blankets you could find in the two rooms while Joel lugged up two bags worth of drinks and snacks behind you on the stairs. Once you made it to the roof, you realized you weren't the only ones who had the idea, but even so, there was still plenty of space for you to have some privacy together while you waited for midnight. You spread out a thick blanket to sit on while Joel laid out all the snacks and popped a bottle of champagne and Sarah took pictures of the skyline.

"This is perfect," Joel told you as he handed you a champagne flute. You thanked him and settled in next to him, the back of your head resting on his shoulder as you watched Sarah take selfies then frown, deleting them before changing the angle and trying again.

"You think you'll be too tired to drive tomorrow?" you asked him, and he scoffed.

"No way. I can get four hours of sleep and still operate a table saw. Drivin' a truck will be a piece of cake."

You giggled and took a sip of your drink.

"I hope you have your liability insurance up to date," you teased, and he grinned. "Where do you think we can stop for the night?"

"Thinkin' if we make it to Nashville, that'll be a good spot, 'bout halfway," he said, and you nodded.

Sarah helped you set up a tray of cheese and crackers as the clock inched closer to midnight. You could see her eyelids drooping, but she was fighting to stay awake. She definitely wasn't used to all of the walking that was required in New York City, and it showed.

You had to nudge her awake when you heard the other people on the roof begin to murmur louder, and when you glanced at the time, you realized it was only a couple minutes until the ball dropped. She sat up and sleepily rubbed her eyes, but perked up quickly when you informed her it was almost time. She jumped up and pushed her way to the railing so she could get the best view of the street below, but you and Joel stayed cozied up under a blanket on the ground.

You listened as the small crowd of people on the roof began to countdown to midnight, and joined in with the cheers when the clock struck midnight. Fireworks began going off in the distance in every direction, and much to your surprise, someone was setting them off a block away on the roof. The loud pop made you jump, and Joel chuckled next to you.

"C'mere," he said, pinching your chin and pulling you in for a kiss. His lips felt cold but his hands were warm as you let yourself melt into his touch.

"Happy New Year, baby," he murmured against your mouth, and you smiled.

"Happy New Year," you whispered before cupping his face and pulling him closer, your lips slotting together perfectly as the fireworks continued to go off and the rest of the crowd looked up in awe. But neither of you cared to take your eyes off the other. There was no point: nothing could compare to what was right in front of you.

Sunday - New Years Day

Sarah yawned, her chin resting in her hand as she slumped over the table at the diner you had found within a short walking distance of the hotel, one of the few places open on a holiday. You had gotten up early so you could hit the road and put as many miles under your belt as you could. The trip was short, but you crammed in as many things as you could, and you could tell even Sarah was ready to get back home.

"Dad, I'm tired," Sarah pouted as she watched Joel finish eating his pancakes.

"You can sleep in the truck," he told her, wiping his mouth before drinking the rest of his coffee. "This ain't even that early. I'm normally up -"

"By 5, yeah, we know," Sarah said, rolling her eyes dramatically, making you giggle. Joel raised an eyebrow at you.

"Oh, so now you're gangin' up on me?" he said accusingly, but his tone was light, which made you laugh even more.

"Where are we gonna put all your stuff?" Sarah asked suddenly. You frowned, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"At the house. Where's your stuff gonna go? Dad's closet is already overflowing-"

"Oh, no," you told her, shaking your head. "We're taking it to my mom and dad's house until I find an apartment."

"An apartment? Like that small one you just left? Why?" Sarah asked, snagging an extra piece of bacon from your plate.

"Well, apartments are notoriously tiny in New York City. The ones in Austin will be bigger," you explained, ignoring her underlying question. But she didn't let you get away with it that easy.

"We could make room at our house, right Dad? Can't you build something for her clothes?" Sarah asked, turning on him now.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, anxiously draping his arm across the back of the booth. "But she wants her own space, baby girl."

"But why?" Sarah asked, furrowing her brows at you. "You're over all the time anyway." You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Yeah, I know. But your Dad and I just met, and you really should be together longer before you move in with someone," you explained, and you felt Joel shift his weight next to you.

"You said you were with that other guy for seven years and you lived with him, right?" she questioned, and you knew immediately where she was going with it.

"Yeah," you said slowly.

"So maybe that doesn't really matter," she said with a shrug. You shifted your eyes to Joel, silently asking for help, and he straightened up in his seat.

"Alright, that's enough, detective," he said to Sarah. "Let's get a move on, I wanna hit the road."

A couple hours later as you made your way further south and Joel confirmed Sarah was fast asleep in the backseat, he cleared his throat, getting your attention.

"Y'know, 'bout earlier," he began, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. "If you wanted, you could move in. But only if you wanted," he repeated nervously, stealing a glance in your direction. "Don't want you thinkin' I don't want you around-"

"Oh!" you said, blinking in surprise. "Thank you, but I think maybe I should learn to live by myself for a while. I've either always lived with my parents, or a roommate, or Will. I think it would be good for me to get my own place. Nothing against you," you said hurriedly, "I really appreciate the offer."

"'Course," Joel said, nodding in understanding. "Just wanted you to know you're always welcome at our house."

"I know, thank you," you replied, reaching your hand across the seat to him, and he dropped his hand from the steering wheel in favor of holding yours.

"Besides, we can have sleepovers at an apartment where we can be as loud as we want," you whispered with a wink, and he smirked.

"I'm gonna have your poor neighbors up all night," he told you, and you giggled. "Get you kicked out, then you'll have to move in with me." You laughed even louder at that, and Joel joined in, eventually waking up Sarah.

"What's so funny?" she asked sleepily, and Joel shook his head.

"Nothin', go back to sleep," he said, glancing at her in the review mirror.

"Well, I'm up now," she said, stretching and looking out the window. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere in Maryland," you told her over your shoulder. She groaned and laid back down, shoving her earbuds in.

"Wake me when we get home," she mumbled, closing her eyes.

You smiled, turning to look out the window at the cars flying by on the thruway. It didn't really matter where you were because you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

You were already home.

Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywuanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin @daddy-dins-girl @jessthebaker @seratuyo @wh0reforbucknasty @paleidiot @misstokyo7love @runningmom94 @mandoisapunk @marantha @missladym1981 @mybworlds @hologramgrlluvr @txtattoostark @jay-mach @stevie75 @merz-8 @sarap-77 - if you are crossed out, it won't let me tag you

[aurorawritestoescape]

So i couldnt sleep so my mind went rambling abt bad blood tommy fucking reader while on facetime w joel. (Like yk filming reader if that makes sence.) And tommy MAYBE brat taming her a little bit or smt and joel telling him what to do or smt. (You can ignore that last part lol)

Xx

BAD BLOOD extra || Tommy’s visit || 2,1k happens after part 6 | can be read alone

Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, step-cest, age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), brat tamer!Tommy, mean!Joel, voyeurism, exhibitionism, unprotected piv, consensual ass spanking, creampies, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, ass play, swearing, smoking. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: thank you for the delicious thots and inspo, lovely nonnie!💖😘I’m not gonna ignore the last part bc it’s hot af! Hugs to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Love you all!❤️ dividers by @saradika-graphics

Part 6 || SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

Tommy’s visiting you while you’re at college and he got a hotel room for you two for a whole weekend, starting Friday. After a few weeks apart and numerous phone sex sessions you couldn’t take your hands off each other. You lost count how many times Tommy made you come on his tongue, his fingers, his cock.

Fucked out of your mind, you’re lying naked on your front in the bed, nibbling on some French fries that you ordered to the room.

“Let’s call uncle Joel,” you offer, smiling at Tommy who’s resting next to you, leaning against the headboard, drinking water and stealing your fries from time to time. He’s naked as well and you marvel at his golden skin, glistening with sweat, his long dark curls, some stuck to his forehead and neck.

“You miss him?” he asks, grabbing his phone off the nightstand.

No way you will admit it so you answer with a shrug. Over the weeks apart Joel and you phoned each other too. Your calls were much shorter than with your stepdad and consisted of him making you come by degrading you over the phone, while your vibrator was pressed to your clit or your fingers were playing with your pussy. He never jerked off though. ‘I ain’t a fucking teenager to jack off over the phone like that,” he always said. But you could bet that as soon as he hung up, his hand darted to his throbbing cock.

When Joel picks up the phone, you hear music and people talking loudly. It’s Friday night so of course he’s at some bar. Tommy greets him and the noises get quiet when the older brother apparently steps outside.

“Hey, uncle Joel,” you purr, when Tommy passes you the phone. Joel gives you a trace of a smile, his face illuminated by the dim street light. He’s looking handsome and smug as always, with a lit cigarette hanging off his lower lip.

“Tommy, why is this little slut still talking?” he raises his voice so his brother could hear. “You’ve been there all day, she shoulda been in a cock coma by now.”

Tommy shakes his head, mumbling ‘Jesus’ and you roll your eyes.

“Stop it, daddy’s made my pussy very happy.”

Joel hums in disbelief and you pout your lips.

“Why haven’t you come with him?”

“I have work this weekend, angel. Need to get some dough so when you visit us I can spoil you like a princess.”

“Really?” You beam at the screen.

“Hell no! Ima spend it on hookers and blow,” he chuckles.

“Fuck you,” you curse at him and throw the phone back to Tommy.

You turn over on your back and with your brows furrowed, start angrily chewing on a fry.

“Second, Joel,” Tommy mumbles, crawls to you and slowly gets between your thighs, the phone still in his hand.

“You know he’s joking, right? We can't wait for you to visit us in Austin.”

Tommy’s warm smile softens your attitude and you slide lower to wrap your legs around his hips, pressing your cum filled pussy to his already hardening cock.

He takes it as an invitation, which it absolutely is, and glides his pink tip between your slicked up pussy lips, massaging your clit and drawing needy whimpers out of your half-opened mouth.

“Look at this, Joel,” Tommy smirks, turning the phone and directing the camera to your cunt, hugging his stiff cock.

“Damn, angel,” you hear your step uncle respond.

Then Tommy slowly changes the phone's angle so your step uncle could see your naked body, squirming against the messy sheets.

You look at the screen, eyes already glossy with lust and bliss, and bite your lip, hearing a loud growl, coming out of Joel's mouth at the sight of your puffy wet folds, being used by his brother, your heaving belly, your hickey-covered tits and pebbled nipples.

“Looking hot, baby,” you hear him compliment you and almost come at how rare and thus more delicious it is.

“Thank you, uncle,” you breathe out and suddenly cry out when Tommy roughly pushes his cock into your weeping hole, taking you by surprise.

“Daddy!”

“Yes, my love?” Tommy gives you a naughty smile, rolling his hips into you and you smile back. The way he fills you is so satisfying, it makes your pussy greedily clench and gush more around his cock .

“How is she?” Joel asks, and you hear him take a drag of his cigarette.

Tommy turns the camera back to himself and talks to his brother, while his cock is languidly sliding in and out of your soft cunt.

“She’s heaven, Joel. You’re missing out.”

At this point you’re not sure if they’re talking about you or your pussy, which turns you on even more.

“Yeah, fuck, ya know that we need to get that contract. I’m meeting them tomorrow morning.”

To your shock they start discussing the upcoming deal and your jaw drops in astonishment.

“Hello! Your dick’s inside me! Can you talk shop later?” you grunt at Tommy and hear Joel’s gruff voice.

“Shut it, angel. Grownups are talking.”

Tommy gives you an apologetic smile but then continues speaking to Joel.

Anger boils up in your stomach and you plant your foot on Tommy's chest and push yourself off his cock. The man hisses, apparently in pain from your sudden movement. But you couldn’t care less. How dare he? you think, feeling hurt and offended.

You roll over on your belly, grab a handful of fries and shove them into your mouth.

“What the fuck, babygirl? Ouch,” Tommy growls behind you.

“Whatever.”

“Come on, sweetheart. I’ve just asked him a couple of questions. It’s important.”

“Fucking brat,” Joel comments on the phone and you grind your teeth.

Trying to soothe you, Tommy rubs the back of your thigh with his warm hand.

“My cock’s hard and waiting for you, my love.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” you bite back and Tommy throws the phone on the bed next to you.

Suddenly he plops down on top of you, pressing you into the mattress with his heavy body.

“He’s right. You are a fucking little brat,” he hisses in your ear and grabs your arms with his strong hands, when you try to lift your torso to push him off. “I’ve been railing this needy cunt all day and you can’t give me a few seconds?”

He bucks his hips against your ass and you moan, feeling his huge cock dig between your asscheeks.

“Daddy,” you whimper in defeat.

“Bitch needs to be punished, brother,” Joel’s modulated voice is egging Tommy on.

“Ain’t he right, sweetie?” Tommy grunts, his hot breath fanning your cheek.

Your mischievous smile tells him everything he needs to know and he commands, lifting his torso off you and sitting up.

“Ass up, babygirl!”

He slaps your asscheek and you whine, when the vibrations pleasure your sensitive pussy.

You do as you’re told and grab the phone with a naughty smile, before placing it against the headboard, letting Joel see what your stepdad is about to do to you.

“Should I spank this minx, Joel?”

“Fuck yeah! This brat’s begging to be disciplined. Right, little slut?”

“Yes, please, daddy, uncle,” you obediently breathe out, wiggling your pushed up ass.

It immediately earns you a slap from Tommy and you moan.

“Shall I keep going, sweetie?” Tommy asks and you hastily nod.

Another slap lands on your ass and then another and another.

“Fuck, wish I could join you, brother,” Joel groans. “I’d give it to her good.”

Tommy spares you, his hits are not that hard, but after having the same spot spanked a few times, you feel heat and ache spread over your skin.

“Daddy,” you whine and he glides his palms over the globs of your ass in a soothing gesture.

“Will you interrupt me again, babygirl?” he asks and slaps your burning asscheek.

“No, daddy!”

“Good girl,” Tommy praises as his hand runs over your spine and squeezes the back of your neck.

“And never get off this cock until I’m done with you. Understand?”

You nod your head, noticing Joel smirk on the screen.

“We should punish her more often, brother. Pity that the slut loves it too much.”

You stick your tongue out at Joel and turn to Tommy.

“Fuck me, daddy. Please.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Your hole’s been clenching the whole time I’ve been slapping your sexy ass. She’s so needy.”

“She is daddy—ahhh,” you purr and moan as he inserts his fat cock into your cunt and begins thrusting into you hard and fast.

“Pussy’s already full of my cum. So wet. Gonna give you more, sweetie.”

“Yeah, ruin this cunt, Tommy,” Joel growls and you stare at his handsome face with half-lidded eyes, reveling in the sensation of Tommy’s cock massaging your walls, and Joel’s black gaze, watching you getting railed.

“Angel,” you hear his voice, calling you. “Can you do something for your dear uncle?”

“Yeah?”

“Stick two fingers into your ass for me.”

You curse, getting more turned on.

“Good idea, Joel,” you hear Tommy’s strained voice as he must be close to coming.

“Get the phone,” Joel says to his younger brother and soon he has a perfect view of your ass and pussy, stretched around Tommy’s cock.

You bring your hand to your asshole and mewl,

“Daddy, help.”

“Of course, my love,” your stepdad coos at you and spreads your asscheeks with his thick fingers, giving you a better access to your tight hole and then spitting right on it.

You jerk at the sensation of his saliva hitting your puckered hole and sliding down your crack. You spread the liquid over and slowly push the tip of your middle finger inside.

“Relax, baby,” Tommy says, slowing down the pace of his cock inside your cunt. Your ass is tight but you take a deep breath, follow his advice, and soon your whole digit sinks into your asshole.

“Yeahhh. Good little slut,” you hear Joel and smile, your cheek pressed to the bed.

Your loud moans fill the room when you begin moving your middle finger at the same speed that Tommy picks up, fucking your pussy.

“Angel, add another one, c’mon,” Joel grunts. “Tommy, faster.”

Joel is directing his brother, who’s fucking his ex stepdaughter. Your juices are sliding down your inner thighs, your eyes roll back while your asshole is getting filled with two fingers. Tommy begins rutting his manhood into your cunt relentlessly, chasing his orgasm, while you are self-fucking your ass.

“Like that, open up that tight hole, angel. Get it nice and ready for your uncle’s fat cock. What a good little slut for us.”

Both of your holes clench hard at his words and it sends Tommy over the precipice.

“Oh yeahhh,” he moans and starts spilling his hot cum into your pussy. The warmth of his load and the squirts, hitting your walls, make you explode on his cock and your fingers. You scream and whimper, while your pussy is getting flooded with Tommy’s thick seed, and your asshole is clamping tight around your fingers.

Tommy finishes emptying his balls into your pulsating cunt and pulls out as your fingers leave your asshole too. You both collapse on the bed, panting and smiling at each other.

“Guess my work there ‘s done. Bye, lovebirds,” you hear Joel’s voice, coming from the phone, lost somewhere in the sheets.

“Wait, wait!” You hastily search for it and when you succeed, ask Joel, your eyes glinting with mischief,

“Are you hard right now, uncle Joel?”

The older brother narrows his eyes at you.

“What d’ you think, angel? I jus’ watched you fuck your own ass like a cock hungry slut.”

You smile proudly, imagining his huge bulge, straining his jeans all because of you.

“Have a nice jerk off session, uncle,” you mock but Joel smirks.

“Don’t think so, baby. Gonna go find a nice wet pussy to fuck in the bathroom.”

With that he ends the call and jealousy burns deep in your belly.

As always attentive to your mood, Tommy swiftly scoops you into his arms and holds you close, while you’re nuzzling his neck.

For a few minutes you two are lying in silence. Tommy’s heartbeat soothes you, floods your soul with affection for the man but you sigh, feeling a pang in your heart that Joel isn’t here.

“He really wanted to come, sweetheart,” Tommy says, as if having read your mind.

You hum, faking indifference, but your heart feels lighter and you tilt your head up to kiss his soft lips and mumble, “I love you, daddy.”

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💖

Part 6 | SERIES MASTERLIST I MASTERLIST

Tag list for the series: @milla-frenchy @iamasaddie @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquentdreamer @ashhlsstuff @evolnoomym @pinkiec6-rubi @guelyury

Tommy tag @huskyfox5

General tag list:@milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

If you'd like to be tagged in the series or in anything else let me know!💕

[paperstorm]

I’m looking at that new pic of TK from the promo and looking at his big green eyes and face and thinking THAT MAN IS A HUSBAND

Do youuuu ever think about how literally this series opens with him wanting to be a husband. Like actually TK is the catalyst for everything right I mean the show is technically built around Owen but 9/11 happened almost 20 years before the pilot and Owen never left Manhattan. The series really begins because TK is so desperate to be a husband that he asks the wrong man to marry him just so he can fast forward to his happy ending. That is the reason any of this exists. It’s the reason they went to Austin, the reason Owen recruited Paul and Marjan, the reason Mateo was able to finally pass his exams, the reason Judd was able to work through his PTSD, the reason Tommy would end up coming back to work, the reason any of them met Carlos. This whole beautiful found family going four years strong, all because all TK ever wanted was to be someone’s beloved husband. And now he is 🥹

[pelorsdyke]

making a new pinned post to neaten up my fic links! my name is k, i love writing wlw ships, and ill be so real with you rn a lot of them are rarepairs. find me here on ao3. my tumblr fic tag is here, and I often post wip peeks for tag games.

some ships I’ve written once or twice include: spemily (pll), buffy x tara (btvs), jackienat (yellowjackets), donnajoey (the west wing), maggie x sophie (leverage), and wayhaught (wynonna earp). I also wrote a lot of ronance (stranger things) during the s4 era.

marjan marwani & nancy gillian (911 lone star):

who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me (test kitchen au)

and love isn’t a fact, it’s a hunch at first. (paul helps marjan come to terms with her feelings for nancy)

and your keys, your ring of keys (marjan starts to realize some things about herself, with the help of an oc. lesbian marjan)

underneath your hands I become poetry (some celebratory sex after tommy announces nancy will take over as interim captain while she’s away. inspired by the bts pic where nancy appears to be wearing a name tag that says captain gillian)

your essence is the ink in the word forever (nancy has tattoos. marjan notices.)

so swing your hips and do a little dip (nancy, marjan, and tarlos go to a gay bar)

I will do my best to get it right (nancy and marjan’s first anniversary plans go awry)

I’m gonna love you for a long time (marjan’s lesbian flag hijab, but also just like. 1k words of established fluff)

I’ve been under scrutiny (you handle it beautifully) (marjan and nancy are actors on the firefighter show austin 126. nancy may have a tiny baby crush)

everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it (post-canon, nancy thinks about moving on. it’s kind of terrifying.)

speed queen marj versus the big tortoise (a coda to 5x01 wherein nancy & marjan continue their banter and kiss a little bit. a secret relationship fic)

lucy tara & kate whistler (ncis: hawai’i):

the room is empty, and the window is open (a spiderwoman lucy au, the tumblr tag for the series is here)

february, the thirteenth (kacy celebrates valentines day early, as per lucy’s way of handling holidays)

blue scooby-doo fruit snacks and unrequited love, probably (high school au kacy flirting)

sit down, breathe, and just listen (post-3.04, kacy talks about marriage and promises)

in response, your glorious laughter (a snapshot of a sweet married kacy early morning)

hear the desert wind roll by (kacy first meeting cowboy au, pwp)

one single thread of gold tied me to you (kai buys lucy a virtual meet-and-greet with her celebrity crush, kate whistler. it turns out they may be a little more familiar with each other than lucy’s remembering.)

hen wilson & karen wilson (911 abc):

I did think, let’s go about this slowly (karen and her instinct to let insecurity drive her decision-making.)

I wanna get stuck in your head (some soft henren fluff about parenting, flirting, and finding the time to talk to your wife.)

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - PART 18.2 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Sex. SO MUCH ANGST. Medication/drug use/overdose. Dub con (sort of?). References to medical trauma, miscarriage, infertility. Blood. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 16.3k (LOLOLOLOLOL)

A/N: Y'ALL, I'M SO SORRY, it's a monstrosity. I couldn't help it. There was just so much to be said while still in E's POV, so that's how we ended up here, over 16k. But we finally learn Elvis' BIG SECRET and experience the mighty fallout from that in his eyes, so hopefully it's worth it. This is my Thanksgiving gift to all of you, but you may want to pace yourselves. I feel like I had to rip my heart out a little bit to really get in E's headspace. Prepare yourselves emotionally. That's all I will say.

A quick note about the pictures...the first is actually from when he bought Graceland in March 1957 and it just works PERFECTLY for the beginning. I couldn't resist the pics from Red West's wedding in 1961, even though I know the timeline and the people don't match but the VIBES, the VIBES my friends, are oh so Jack and Reader's wedding so I just had to include them. The one for 1960 was taken the night of the Rollerdome. *sob*

If you so desire, you should now have the ability to tip my blog or different chapters in the story! Some of you have been asking about this, and of course, no one is obligated to do so! If you do choose to tip, thank you so much! I've never had anyone want to pay for my work before, so this is a big step towards my romance novelist dreams. 💜

Speaking of Thanksgiving, I am so FREAKIN' GRATEFUL for every single one of you babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, YOU ARE EXTRAORDINARY which is always evident but especially so when someone tried to steal PS last week and y'all went 'ride or die' for me instantly, without question, getting it taken down in record time. I didn't in a million years expect this kind of support and response for Pink Scarf, and your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my AO3 account, as well as my NEW Wattpad account. so if you are so inclined, you can check it out/support me over there with kudos and votes and whatnot!)

(Elvis in March 1957, Graceland)

March 1957

Elvis parks in front of your house, his mind whirling with noise. He’s not exactly sure how he ended up here, but as soon as he’d gotten off that train, he knew he needed something that he couldn’t get from any of the guys or even his mama. So, he finds himself unexpectedly here.

Turning off the car, he seeks any sort of relief from the heartache he feels. He’s been holding it all in since the train stop in New Orleans, the one that sent the world crumbling under his feet, destroying the pretty picture he’d had for the future. But all that is gone now and here he sits, hands tapping on the steering wheel with nervous energy.

He nods to himself, finally leaping out of the car, and then he saunters down the walkway to the front door. The chime of the doorbell can be heard through the door, and he listens carefully, grateful to hear light footsteps from beyond.

When you open the door, it’s like he can breathe again for the first time since the train pulled away in New Orleans. You look surprised to see him, those big eyes of yours widening the slightest before you speak.

“Elvis, you’re home?” you ask with a hint of confusion, but overall, you seem pleased at finding him on your doorstep.

“Just got in, baby,” he says, that boyish smile curving up. He gathers you up into a big bear hug and instantly feels better as he breathes in the unique scent of your shampoo and lingering perfume. A scent that feels like home.

“And you came right here?” you ask, brow furrowing when he pulls away. He notices that you look a bit worn around the edges, darker circles rimming your eyes as if you haven’t been sleeping well.

You’re right to be confused. Of course, he hadn’t planned to see you right away. He’d planned to sweep June off her feet in New Orleans, wanting to show her Graceland immediately, the home he’d thought they’d share together for the rest of their lives. But all that had been dashed as soon as she’d blurted out that she was engaged to another man. Engaged. His June.

“I want to show ya something,” he blurts out instead of saying any of this. “It’s a surprise! Will ya come?” Oh, god, you have to come, he thinks. His heart might shatter if you don’t, though he’s not exactly sure why. You’re not his—you and Jack have been dating for nearly a year—so it’s not as though if you don’t come that it really means anything. Yet, still he hopes. He needs this. He needs to share this moment with someone he cares about.

Despite the fatigue in your eyes, you nod quickly, and then as if you can’t leave the house fast enough, you grab your purse and coat and shut the door behind you without a word.

He smiles gratefully, and relieved, he grabs your hand and practically skips to the car. Once he has you tucked in safely, he runs around the front of the Cadillac, jumps in, and peels away. It’s not too far of a drive, and he yammers on about the last few months he’s been away, the words flying out of him. You nod and ask all the right questions, but he notices that you are pensive, quieter than usual.

His verbal diarrhea halts for long enough for his brain to take into account that you don’t seem your usual self, and he asks, “Are you okay?”

You look down at your hands and then out the window, as if contemplating if and how much to share, which makes him a little nervous. Your fingers twist in your lap.

“Honestly? It’s been a hard few weeks, E,” you finally say, still unable to meet his eyes. “My nana passed last Tuesday.”

He’s mortified that he’d just been going on and on about himself and here you were dealing with such a loss. “Oh, darlin’, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t know. I know how close you two were,” he says remorsefully, reaching his hand over to clasp one of yours.

You shake your head, sniffling back tears. “It’s okay, you’ve been away. There was no way for you to know. And I keep telling myself that she’s in a better place now, but that doesn’t really help all that much. I guess it still doesn’t seem real.”

He nods, because he can’t seem to think of anything to say that will make any of this better for you. “We can do this another time, baby, if you’re not feeling up to it,” he finally gets out.

“No, no. I need something to do instead of moping around the house. I’m worn from being sad and worrying about the rest of it. No, I’m glad you showed up, E. I can’t wait to see your surprise,” you add quickly, trying for a smile.

“The rest of it? What’re you so worried about, baby?” It’s obvious you don’t expect him to pick up on that because he sees the quick look of panic that flashes over your face at the question, so he’s quick to add, “I mean, you don’t hafta talk ‘bout it if ya don’t wanna, but I can tell somethin’ else is weighin’ on ya.”

“You could say that,” you sigh, raising your eyes to the roof and back down again. The twisting fingers are back. “God knows I haven’t been sleeping, and it’s giving me these terrible headaches.” You pinch the bridge of your nose for respite. “I…well, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to tell you, Elvis, because it’s about Jack, and I really don’t want him to think I’m running around telling everyone our business.”

A warning rush rolls over him at this because he suddenly and very desperately wants to know what has happened with Jack, and that is a dangerous game for all kinds of reasons, many of which he’s not ready to admit to himself.

“I swear and cross my heart I won’t say a word, if you wanna tell me,” he says instead, a little too eagerly, so he quickly adds, “If it’ll help ya feel better and all.”

He forces himself to watch the road and not you, but he can practically hear your mind whirring.

“Oh, fine, but not a word out of you to anyone, Elvis Presley, I mean it. I know how bad you are with secrets,” you glare at him.

“I promise, I promise!” he concedes, crossing his heart. “I swear on my mama!”

“Well, in the midst of all this with Nana, I found out that Jack was dating other women a while back while we were going together. Apparently, I thought we were exclusive, but he didn’t, and well…” you trail off bitterly.

Elvis has to bite his tongue and bite it hard because somehow this wasn’t what he expected, and oh, lord, he knows too much for comfort.

Thankfully, you take this as him listening intently, because you continue, “I know I shouldn’t be too mad at him. I suppose it’s an honest mistake, seeing as maybe we didn’t communicate clearly enough about where we stood with each other. But it was so obvious to me, and I don’t understand how it wasn’t obvious to him. It’s not like I was going around with other guys all the time! I know it was months ago, but damn if it doesn’t really sting. Part of me feels like such an idiot, you know? What else don’t I know about him and what he’s doing? It just makes it hard to trust him, even though he was truthful about it when I asked.” He can sense the conflict in you, as your voice fills and shakes with the emotion of your held-back tears.

His heart is beating fast now, and all he is seemingly able to do is nod furiously, as if agreeing vehemently with all you are saying. The problem is that Elvis is complicit in all this and you have no idea. You have no idea that he was the one who pushed the showgirls onto Jack when he came to visit him in Vegas in November. You have no idea that “dating” didn’t have much to do with it at all. And now he feels altogether shitty for being the one to put Jack in that position in the first place. He’d managed to spread his own unfaithfulness and debauchery right on over to Jack, and now you are the one paying for it.

Shit.

Although, knowing Jack, it’s also possible that there was other dating happening, too. Either way, Elvis knows he’s got to tread real careful here and needs to keep his trap shut.

But Elvis can’t stand that hurt look in your eyes when he dares to take his eyes off the road to glance at you. He hates how angry and sad you look, the blue-black circles under your eyes conveying your distress.

And his emotions feel complicated, too complicated for comfort. He suddenly wonders if he didn’t present Jack with those temptations on purpose because there is a very deep and selfish part of him that desperately wants you to kick Jack to the curb for this, and that terrible, selfish part of him wants you to finally see Elvis in the same way he sees you.

Maybe there’s a reason that things didn’t work out with June, that voice pokes at him hopefully.

Stop that shit right now.

All this is playing through his head and leaving him outwardly silent. He realizes he has to say something, anything, because you are waiting for him to do so.

“I-I’m sorry that happened, ‘specially finding out at the same time as all this with your Nana. W-What are you gonna do about Jack?” he says, trying not to gulp.

He watches your eyes narrow and then he quickly looks back at the road. He can feel you shift in your seat.

“I…well, right now, I wanna pummel his brains out, so I told him I need some space to figure out what I want to do. I just—I thought we…” you trail off dismally. “I don’t want to go through this again,” you add quietly.

Elvis knows you are talking about Ted. Stupid Teddy who stepped out and got Judy Cole knocked up and then left you brokenhearted in his wake. It still pisses him off, even though he knows he’s got no right to judge Ted, not now, not after all the foolin’ around he’s done.

But when it comes to you, he can’t help but be protective. It’s in his bones, the way he wants to take care of you. In fact, he wouldn’t mind punching Jack in the face right about now for hurting you like this. And he’s even more pissed at himself for his part in it all.

Elvis just wants you to be happy and to be with a man who deserves you, and deep down, he doesn’t know if that man is Jack, even though he loves Jack like a brother. But the real problem is he’s not sure if he thinks any man will ever be good enough for you.

But his brain is wary to dwell on the meaning of that, wanting to avoid anything else that feels uncomfortable, so instead, he lets the excitement of showing you his new home overshadow any other unwanted feelings he might be experiencing.

“Okay, baby, we’re almost there, so close your eyes,” he says excitedly, changing the subject abruptly, before pulling up the long drive.

“Alright, Elvis, this better be a big surprise with how hyped up you are,” you chuckle, letting the mood turn by doing as you are told.

“The biggest,” he breathes, sliding to a stop in front of the Colonial mansion. “Don’t open your eyes yet! I’ll come around!”

You wait until you hear the car door open and feel his hand take yours. He gently brings you out of the car to standing, an excited energy vibrating through him.

“Okay, darlin’, open!” he drawls dramatically.

You do, blinking out the early Spring sunlight. He watches your face light up as you take in the architecture.

“Oh my god, Elvis, it’s beautiful,” you say in awe. “Is it yours?”

“Yes, baby, it’ll be all mine very soon. And for Mama and Daddy, of course,” he adds hastily, as if you’d thought he’d abandon his parents.

“Of course,” you smile, looking at him with those pretty, though tired, eyes of yours. “Can we go inside?” you ask.

All he can do is nod excitedly. Elvis takes your hand, pulling you up the steps and past the huge white columns on either side. He can’t unlock the door fast enough, the keys rattling and shaking in his hands. Once inside, he pulls you through the house, mouth running a mile a minute about what he wants to do in each room, how he wants it to look.

Finally, you make it to the top level, the last room. “This is gonna be my bedroom,” he rambles on. “I’m gonna get the biggest bed you’ve ever seen in your life, made special.”

You gently pull your hand out of his, and he watches as you take a small pill bottle out of your purse and pop two of the pills before downing them dry. Aspirin, probably, for the headache you were talking about in the car.

“E, stop a minute,” you say. “This is all amazingly wonderful and beautiful, and I am so excited for you, but…well, what exactly am I doing here?” You look at him with curious and concerned eyes.

“I…uh…I…,” he stammers, unsure of what to say or how to say it, as it’s all been spinning inside for hours and hours. He looks away, unable to meet your eyes. He certainly doesn’t want to put any of his stuff onto you, not now, not after what you told him earlier. His hands fall to his sides, and he shakes them, wiggling his fingers like he does to come down after a show. It doesn’t help. There’s just too much emotion rolling through him all the sudden.

You step to him, first putting your hands on his shoulders, then you run them gently down his arms before grabbing his flailing hands, absorbing some of that wild energy. The feeling still manages to send little electric shocks through him, even after all this time. Only then does he finally still and dare to look at you.

“E, what’s wrong? You let me talk earlier, so why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?” you ask, your eyes searching his, open and concerned. He should’ve known you’d see right through him. Maybe that’s why you’re here, because he knew you’d understand, that you’d be able to tell he wasn’t okay when no one else cared to.

It takes a moment for him to gather his words as his emotions get in the way. Emotions he stoically hid from the guys the rest of the way to Memphis. Emotions he pushed down when he saw his mama because he just couldn’t bear to break her heart yet with the news. God, he’s spent so much time recently learning how to hide everything real about himself in order to become the man everyone wants him to be. But here, now, with you, it all begins to overflow.

“I-I-I told June to meet me in New Orleans. I-I w-w-was gonna bring her back here, to show her w-what I-I wanted to buy…for us,” he says, bouncing on his toes, tears welling and clouding his vision. He hates how it’s tearing him in two to say this.

You squeeze his hands, urging him to continue, and for you, he does.

“But when I-I got there, she was acting so strange. There w-wasn’t much time and, uh, she told me she’s engaged to someone else.” He blinks and the tears run over, finally spilling down his cheeks. Saying it out loud suddenly makes it feel all too real. His chest aches with betrayal, with loss.

You look at him with such care, though you do not look shocked at this news.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, E. I know you how much you loved her,” you say, squeezing his hands again gently.

‘Loved.’ As in past tense.

“Did you know?” he asks suddenly, stepping back, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

You take a conscious deep breath. “No, I didn’t. But she did call me a few times wondering where you were, if you were okay. She said she hadn’t heard from you in months…” you say awkwardly, petering off.

“Aw, shit,” he curses, running a hand through his greased hair. A wave of anger rolls through him, burning him from the inside, but as much as he wants to put it on June and her spiteful engagement, he knows the anger is mostly towards himself. He fucked up. He fucked around. And he’d expected June to just sit back and wait for him while he did it. He didn’t even make the time to call her.

And you know what he’s done. He can see it on your face. He looks down, unable to meet your eyes.

You don’t speak. You don’t lay into him or tell him he’s an asshole, although it might be better if you did. God knows he’s already thinking it. You just look at him with sadness and understanding and forgiveness, even though he doesn’t deserve it.

With that ache in his heart, he finally realizes that he couldn’t have loved June the way he said he did and then leave her hanging like that. But he did love her…at least, he had. They’d had such a beautiful summer together and he was sure he wanted to marry her, once his fame was settled. Three years, he’d told her.

Shit, I didn’t even make it six months, he thinks absently.

And then everything changed almost overnight. His fame exploded. There was Hollywood, then Vegas. And the girls, good god, there were so many beautiful girls who wanted him, needed him, who threw themselves at him. He’d been weak. He hated being alone. He couldn’t help it. It was just sex, he’d told himself, just a way to blow off steam as his world became smaller and smaller and nearly suffocated him. A thousand excuses run through his head, but in the end, it was his choice not to pick up the phone. It was his choice to screw around, to live this life.

It’s no wonder that June moved on, he thinks. I’m a first-rate asshole.

“Y/n, I messed it all up,” Elvis finally chokes out. The sob fully breaks the dam holding him together, the pressures of his fame and the realization hitting him like a truck: he is never going to be able to have that normal life with a wife and kids he’d once dreamed of. His knees buckle under the weight of all of it—his decisions, both good and bad, the fame he doesn’t know what to do with, the unexpected consequences of this privileged but isolating life he’s chosen.

He sinks to his knees, defeated, on the carpet of his future bedroom, the one he’ll probably never share with someone who loves him for who he truly is. Because he isn’t just Elvis Aron Presley anymore—he is “Elvis Presley,” the celebrity, the commodity, the fantasy.

While he relishes in the luxuries of it all, in being able to provide the life his family deserves, a small part of him cannot help but feel like he’s made a deal with the devil. That this talent he has been blessed with will also be the thing that damns him. He is overcome by the feeling that he’ll never know ever again if he is loved for who he really is, or if it is his fame and his image they love. And there is something about that that crushes his soul.

But he can’t say all this to you because it sounds dramatic and indulgent, and he knows there are very few people in this world who’d actually understand.  This is his cross to bear.

And yet you still comfort him. You are still here. “Oh, hon, I know. It’s okay, I know,” you say, kneeling down with him.

In the midst of all he’s achieved and gained these past few years, June is the representation of all that he stands to lose, all that he’s already lost. “She was my last chance, y/n. I’m never gonna be able to trust that a woman loves me for me and not for my fame after this. And I screwed it all up,” he says quietly, tears running freely. “I just feel so fucking alone.”

“Oh, that’s not true, Elvis, it’s not,” you say, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “You’ll find her, I know you will. And you have so many people who love you for just being you, not for the fancy cars or the mansion or the fame. You’ve got your family, you’ve got Jack and your true friends. And you’ve got me.”

The way you say it, so softly, yet so matter-of-fact hits him hard, so hard that his heart stops beating for a moment. If he wasn’t already kneeling, the honest way your tired yet beautiful eyes search his face might knock him right off his feet.

It’s you, it’s you, it’s always been you, he thinks suddenly. This is the feeling he was avoiding in the car. The feeling he’s been avoiding since he watched Jack kiss your cheek in the diner a year ago.

It takes his breath away. You take his breath away, you always have. He’s been enamored with you since you plowed into him all those years ago in the hallway at Humes High.

Suddenly, June is all but forgotten because you reach up, cupping his face in your cold little hands and wipe a tear off his cheek. He cannot help the way his eyelids flutter closed at the sensation of the pad of your thumb dragging softly across his face. His breathing, rapid from his cries is now labored for another reason entirely.

Opening his eyes slowly, he shouldn’t be shocked to see tears in yours, your grief and sorrow, not only for yourself, but for him, too, welling there, as if you are connected to him. In fact, Elvis feels like his brain is short-circuiting because you are too damn close and the tension in the room is suddenly so thick, he feels like he might suffocate.  

Every cell in his body feels on fire as you lean in closer and closer until your lips press against his forehead. You’ve never kissed him, not once in all these years, and this alone sends heat rushing through his young body. Then when you kiss his nose, and then one tear-stained cheek, he holds his breath, feeling like he might die from this chaste sensation.

Warning bells explode in his brain because suddenly he wants you more than anything in this world, always has. And now you are so close. This is Jack’s girl, he thinks, and she’s my dear friend. Don’t be an idiot.

But when you lean in to kiss his other cheek, you place your lips alarmingly close to his, his tears wet underneath your soft lips, and his body is on high alert as only a twenty-two-year-old’s could be. His heart flutters as you pull back just enough to look deeply into his eyes, tears shining in your own, and then you lean in once more.

This can’t be happening. This should not be happening, his mind screams, but then your lips are grazing his and all rational thought ceases to exist.

You taste so sweet.

Heat blooms through the ache in his chest, and in his disbelief, he freezes. Part of him wants to devour you whole, but he is terrified that if he moves, he might spook you and he cannot bear that.

His confusion is overridden when your hands, shaking but demanding, pull him closer. Your lips are soft and sure, and he cannot help but be swept away by them. He’s kissed so many girls, too many to count, all over the country, but not one has ever made him feel like this, like his heart is going to leap out of his damn chest.

But this is a betrayal of a monumental kind, for both of you. While he is no stranger to betrayal, he does not want this for you. As much as he wants you with every fiber of his being, he does not want to be the source of your regret or heartache. He’s already done enough in that regard already, though you don’t know it. Mustering up every ounce of his self-control, Elvis pulls out of your kiss.

“Y/n, baby, you don’t want this. I’m no good for you this way,” Elvis says in a hushed tone, his forehead resting against yours. “I-I can’t have you regretting me, I-I-I couldn’t bear it.”

You lean back the slightest bit, and he thinks you might be listening, reconsidering, making him feel mostly dismay but also a little relief. What he does not expect is for you to press your little pointer finger up against his lips, hushing him, as you stare into his eyes. It’s as though your soul is as weary and needy as his and it feels as though you see him, truly see him, which is a new feeling for him. This sends a welcoming shiver down his spine, and he knows that despite every scrap of logic and propriety he is trying to lean on, with you he is powerless.

When your finger drags down his lips, catching on the bottom one, it sends a bolt of pleasure straight to his groin. Yet still he resists (even though he wants more than anything to see where this is going), thinking you might realize your mistake, and this will all be over in an embarrassed, yet still salvageable, flash.

Instead, you very deliberately scoot closer, your knees bumping his on the carpet. You lean in again, your lips grazing his again with a yearning he cannot help but return in kind. It’s barely a kiss, but the intent is there and when you pull up, effectively opening your mouth to him, the way he can feel your warm breath mingling with his own has him struggling to control himself.

You are testing him, testing the waters, hesitant but somehow insistent at the same time. His long lashes flutter closed when your fingers brush his jaw then rake into his perfectly styled hair. But it’s when the tip of your tongue touches his, sending a hot shockwave through him, that he can stand it no longer and closes the gap between your mouths with a longing sigh.

Pressing his pliant lips to your yielding ones, he rolls his tongue softly but firmly against yours, earning him a quiet moan from you. This is like fuel on the fire, finally spurring him into action, and his hands fly to the back of your head, pulling you closer.

If there is one thing besides music that Elvis excels at and loves to do, it’s kissing. He plays with it the same way he plays a crowd, listening to you and adjusting his performance as necessary. The buzzy way it makes him feel, like every nerve is magnetic, is one of the only things in this world that is anything like how it feels for him to perform for an audience. He loves the way it makes him feel.

But kissing you is unlike anything Elvis has experienced before. It’s as though you are tuned to the exact same frequency, finding his rhythm immediately, adapting easily. The usual fumbling of people getting acquainted in this way does not seem to apply to the two of you, the ebb and flow so natural it’s as though you had done this with each other many times before.

But the passion of it stokes a fire that has been denied a long time. Intense heat crashes over him, sending tendrils of warmth through his limbs and deep into his belly. He drinks you in as deep as he can without being desperate, and oh how close he is to being desperate for you. His grief over June melts away the more he tastes you, and he wonders how he ever lived before having the taste of your lips on his.

It's all very dramatic and romantic, which he is both at heart. From just a few kisses, he suddenly knows that if he could kiss you and only you for the rest of his life, he would be a happy man indeed. This surprises him.

But what truly shocks him is when you lean so far into him that it pushes him over, his knees screaming a little, and he falls back into the wall with a thump. He scrambles backwards, maneuvering his long legs into a more comfortable seated position while you don’t even miss a beat or attempt to come up for air. And when you crawl into his lap, hoisting the flowing fabric of your dress up just enough so your warm, bare thighs are straddling his, his heart actually flies right out of his goddamned chest.

Speaking of which, you are currently running your hands down his, pulling his silky shirt up enough to dance your fingertips over his stomach. His breath hitches then hisses at that, his arms involuntarily encompassing you, large hands splaying across your back to draw you ever nearer.

And you go willingly, inching up his lap until you are straddling his hips. When you grind down into his lap, he thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven, his blue eyes rolling back into his head with a low moan.

He'll admit he’s dreamed of this, fantasized about this, but nothing could truly prepare him for the reality of the way you are making him feel. A trickle of attraction that began six years ago is now a roaring river, and is so, so much more than anything he’s felt before with anyone else.

He doesn’t understand it. He loves women. He always falls in love too fast, enjoying the rapid descent into the madness of it all. There have only been a few that he feels were true, though every girl he’s with, he loves in his own way.

But you are not like any of them, not at all. With you, it has been slow, so gradual sometimes that he didn’t even realize it. A teenage crush turned into friendship, and within that has blossomed a love that he didn’t know he was capable of. It is not until this very instant that he realizes it truly for what it has become. He doesn’t just care for you. He loves you.

He is in love with you.

Fuck.

Realizing this as your hips begin to rock steadily over his crotch is not the best timing. He’s as hard as a rock, fighting both the swell of his physical need for you while wrestling with the emotional needs he’s quickly realizing at the same time.

If he didn’t love you, he might not care if this is just a quick fuck between friends, but he does care. And he’s worried about where this is coming from, likely your overall grief and your anger at Jack. No, he doesn’t like the messiness of that at all.

But another grind of your pelvis into his, coupled with your tongue down his throat has the physical quickly taking over any and all rational thought. He wants you, more than he’s ever wanted anyone. And he desperately wants to give you what you need, which based on the mewls escaping your lips, is a physical release, a connection.

God, he can feel the wet heat of your cunt now through your panties and his pants as you slide over his length, back and forth, again and again. He clings to you as your hands wind through his hair, burying his head in your neck, his lips taking in as much of your skin as he can. He revels in the scent of you, your perfume and your irresistible musk that is permeating the room. He is positively dizzy with it.

You are frantic in his lap now, chasing something he’s not entirely sure you’ve ever had. He knows about Ted, but he highly doubts Ted knew what to do with you. And with Jack, well, he’s not sure how far the two of you have gone, but he can only guess based on Jack’s recent actions and your desperation for no one to know that Ted had popped your cherry that you’ve been trying to be good and pure and wait.

But as you reach for his belt, pawing at him, for the first time in this whole event, he gets the distinct impression that you’re not sure what to do next, only that you are needy for something. And goddamn him, he is willing to give you what you need, but only if you really understand what it is you’re asking for.

“Wait, baby, just…wait,” Elvis pants, stilling your hips with one hand while grabbing the hand at his belt with the other. You whimper a little at the interruption, rolling your hips for emphasis, but despite the groan he can’t help, he’s having none of that.

“Baby, I need to know that you really want this,” he says, brushing your hair off your deliciously pink cheeks, your lips swollen from his kisses. He looks into your eyes, almost getting lost in them and forgetting what he set out to do. “You’re absolutely sure?”

“Yes,” you whisper, and then add, “Elvis, please,” in a begging tone that sets him completely aflame.

“Oh, damn, okay, baby, okay,” he breathes, barely able to contain himself with that. He’s only human, after all. He races to help you with his pants, pulling them over his hips and down his legs in record time, his erection springing free, precum already glistening the tip. You lift up on your knees, you move your panties aside, and touching the silky soft skin of his cock, you help him line up with your entrance. He can’t help but gasp at the feeling of your cool little fingers circling his shaft, losing it a little more when he feels how incredibly soaked you already are.

He can’t believe this is happening. It shouldn’t be happening. But all logic is gone from him, replaced by the sweetness of your mouth and the wetness of your pussy and his desperate need for whatever love you have to give him.

He watches as you bite your lip in concentration, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you try to take him in. You are incredibly tight around the sensitive tip of his cock, and he moans a little at the constriction. That’s when he knows for sure that no one else has touched you like this for a long time. You aren’t ready for him, not yet.

Reaching under your skirt, he deftly finds the delicate little bundle of nerves there and begins to work it ever so gently. He shifts his hips down, his cock regretfully released from your hold on it. Sliding his fingers through your folds (oh, god), he gently slips one finger into your tight heat, then two, allowing you to adjust around him before pumping them in and out. Your eyes go wide and you gasp with the intrusion, but then they flutter closed with a sigh, and then another, and another before your hips begin to rock again.

He watches you in your ecstasy, taking in every delectable reaction he can and committing it to memory. The way your brow scrunches and your mouth falls open into a little O. The feel of your thighs clenching around his hand as he massages and fingers your dripping pussy. Those alluring little breathy moans escaping your lips. Every part of you has him completely mesmerized and he knows it. He knows his mouth is agape and he is moaning softly right along with you. He is so aroused just by watching you, he feels like he could come without you even touching him.

“E, I need more…I need you,” you breathe with your eyes closed and brow concentrated, and oh sweet lord, those might be the best words in the English language with the way they come out of your mouth.

He is utterly unable to deny you this. He can’t even speak, he just pulls his fingers out of you, lifts your hips, and maneuvers his cock back to the place it wants to be most. And you are more ready for him now, your tightness yielding much more easily around the sensitive tip of him.

It’s in that moment, as you sink down ever-so-slowly onto him and he is enveloped by your wet heat, that Elvis realizes he is utterly ruined for any other woman, ever. They cannot and will not ever hold a candle to you. He should’ve known before. He should’ve stopped this while he still could. But as you finally settle in his lap, taking him in completely, your fingers relaxing and your eyes bright and glassy, he knows he is well and truly fucked in every way.

He kisses you deeply again and again, memorizing your mouth, as you begin to raise and lower yourself on his cock. You feel so good, so completely perfect, it’s as if you were made just for him. He is drunk on you, hands wandering your body, finding what makes you keen, and he’s unable to get enough of you.

But you are so needy and ready that unfortunately it doesn’t take very long of you riding him and him playing with your clit for you to begin falling apart at the seams. Based on your surprised gasps, he’s not sure you’ve ever come before, so he does his best to help you get there while holding on to his own release for dear life. You begin to shudder around him, clenching his length, and with a strangled moan you hit your peak. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the way you are coming undone on top of him, around him, your eyelashes fluttering closed and then popping open, all wild-eyed and rosy cheeked as the hushed sound of his name falls out of your perfect mouth.

He's so fucking enraptured that his orgasm hits harder and faster than expected, chasing yours almost immediately, not giving him time to pull out like he should have. But he can’t bring himself to care because it’s all you. All he’s ever wanted or needed—it’s you.

Oh, sweet Christ, I love you, I love you, I love you, he chants in his mind as he follows you over the edge.

He clings to you, head pressed into your breasts as he pulses hard into your warmth with a grunt, then stays there as he comes down from the high. And then you are both gasping in the silence, and there is an air of disbelief that fills the room that the two of you just did that, together.

This is making love, he realizes suddenly. It must be, considering the incredibly overwhelming feelings he has for you that are pouring through him in unreasonable amounts. He never wants to let you go, not ever.

He pulls back enough to kiss you tenderly, lingering a little too long. There is a sinking, nearly unbearable feeling that this may never happen again, and it threatens to break him, so he pushes it as far away as it will go.

You press your forehead to his, silent, you still enveloping him as he eventually begins to soften inside you. Neither of you rushes to move. He cannot read what you are thinking and that makes him nervous.

“Are you okay?” he finally whispers, his thumb grazing your cheek.

You nod but say nothing.

“Okay, baby.”

You both sit there a while, simmering in what you have done, and he wishes you would say something, say anything at all to let him know what is going on in that head of yours. But you are quiet, unreadable.

Finally, you remove yourself from his lap and stumble your way into the ensuite bathroom to clean up.

Elvis runs a hand down his face, wiping away the mixture of salty tears and sweat that has collected there. He uses his handkerchief to wipe himself off and then puts himself back together. Blissed out in his refraction, he is so full of love for you that he almost can’t stand it. He thought he’d known love before, and perhaps he did, but this realization of love for you is so big that he doesn’t know what to do with it. God, he feels like with you by his side, he could conquer the damn world.

But you’re not his girl.

Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit.

His head falls back onto the wall with a thump.

Somehow, he’s both on top of the world and completely buried by it at the same time. You interrupt his thoughts, coming back in quietly and falling, exhausted, into his arms. He takes off his coat and puts it on top of you both. He can’t help but pull you closer, up into his lap, so your head rests against his chest. This is where you are supposed to be, he can’t help but think.

He knows the two of you need to talk about this. While he has been having his epiphany, he has absolutely no idea what you are thinking. He has no clue if you feel anything even close to what he feels for you. It is possible that all of this was just some sort of revenge on Jack, and that breaks his heart a little. And even if you did do it for that reason, you chose him. You felt safe enough with him to choose him.

But something deep inside him tells him it isn’t just that, not with the way you kissed him, not with the way he felt like his damn soul was connecting with yours. That deep connection he’s always felt to you, it can’t possibly be one-way.

But what if it is? a worried little voice creeps in.

He wants to ask you, but he looks down and sees you passed out on his chest. Fatigue begins to hit him, as he hasn’t slept in over a day.

It’s not long before he, too, falls into an exhausted slumber.

*

He’s not sure how long you sleep, but when he wakes, the sun has moved and the room is nearly dark. Disoriented, it takes a moment for him to realize that it’s you in his arms, and when he remembers why, his cheeks flame with heat.

Oh. Oh.

Drowsy, he rubs his eyes with one hand, trying to wake up. As the memories of your lovemaking resurface, his heart beats faster, and he knows the moment you wake you will both have to face what you’ve done. You’ll have to decide what comes next. And more than anything, the hopeful little voice inside him realizes that he wants to share this all with you—that’s why it is you he brought to Graceland today, and why it was so important to him that you like it.

“Y/n, honey, wake up,” he says quietly, not wanting to shock you awake, but you don’t even stir. He shifts under you, hoping that might get you moving, but you just lie there.

“Hey, baby, it’s time to wake up,” he says at full voice now, but you remain still, too still, and silent.

His heart starts to pound. Something isn’t right.

“Y/n! Honey, I need you to wake up!” He is getting frantic now, his hand gently tapping your face, which feels too cold. But still, you do not wake.

“Fuck. Fuck! Y/n, wake up!” He shakes you. Panic and confusion roll over him as he tries to figure out why you are knocked out. His sleep-addled brain runs through what happened before you both fell asleep, before you made love.

Her headache, he thinks. She took pills for her headache.

He had thought they were aspirin, but as he frantically rummages through her purse, pulling out the little prescription bottle, he reads “Percodan, one tablet every 6 hours for pain and sleep relief” on the label.

Elvis swears you took two tablets, not one, way too much for a girl your size. You hadn’t read the bottle.

Shit.

Having been in Hollywood, he knows that this happens. People overdose from taking these narcotics, usually to get high, but he knows that you did it on accident. Based on how full the bottle is, he’s guessing that you maybe hadn’t even taken the meds before today.

Regardless, he’s not taking any chances with you. There’s no phone hooked up at the house, so with his adrenaline now working overtime, he lifts your unconscious form and quickly carries you to the car. He peals out, driving to Baptist Memorial Hospital as fast as he possibly can.

The those few hours are some of the most terrifying of his life.

He bites every nail down to the quick in that waiting room, pacing there as your family sits, equally worried. He can’t help but feel that they are judging him for letting this happen, even though it was an accident.

He can’t bring himself to call Jack.

Guilt eats away at him, even though he knows he had no idea about the pills, but if he hadn’t fallen asleep, maybe he would’ve realized sooner that something was wrong. Part of him feels like this is punishment for his sins, for what he let happen in the house. He prays and prays to God, harder than he’s ever prayed before.

Please, God, I love her. I can’t lose her. Do what you want to me, just let her be okay.

His prayers work.

You wake up. The doctors say you are going to make a full recovery. His heart nearly explodes with relief.

He offers to stay while your family goes home to get some rest. It is past visiting hours, but being Memphis’ own superstar, the nurses take pity on him and let him stay, as long as he doesn’t keep you awake.

When you finally stir, it’s the middle of the night.

“E—Elvis?” you croak. “What happened? Where am I?”

He sits up straight and leans forward to take your cold little hand in his. “Y/n! Oh, baby, you took too many of your headache pills and I couldn’t wake you up. You scared the hell outta me. You’re in the hospital, but you’re gonna be okay,” he whispers, squeezing your hand.

“Wake me up? Why—why was I asleep?” your brow furrows in confusion.

His heart drops into his stomach, dread like ice in his veins. He doesn’t want to ask, but he knows he must:

“What’s the last thing you remember, honey?”

Obviously still groggy, you close your eyes for a moment to think. “Um, I remember you picked me up and took me to…to your new house,” you say, then your eyes pop open, “You were showing me your beautiful new house, and then my headache got really bad, so I took some of my pills, and then…” You stop, looking at him blankly. “And after that, I don’t remember. You said I fell asleep?”

Oh, God, no. No, no, no. He feels like he’s going to vomit.

The force of his dread hits him like a tsunami as he runs through what happened in his head again. You took the pills first and then he told you about June and then you kissed him.

But you don’t remember. You don’t remember because you were accidentally fucking high.

“Elvis, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” you say.

“Sorry, baby, I-I-I was just really worried about you, is all. I-I guess it’s all kinda hittin’ me at o-once, now that you’re o-o-okay,” he says, unable to keep his voice from shaking, unable to keep from stuttering through the half-truth.

“Please, go get some rest, E. I’ll be fine. I’m so tired, I feel like I could sleep for days…” you say, drowsily, eyes fluttering closed.

“Okay, okay, baby, I will…Get some rest,” he says, kissing you on the top of your head as you drift back into slumber.

In a panicked daze, he manages to make it down the hallway and to the men’s room before his stomach rolls and he is violently sick into the toilet.

Oh, sweet Lord, he took advantage of you. You were drugged and didn’t know what you were doing, and he had sex with you.

He vomits again, tears running down his face.

I didn’t know, I didn’t know, I wouldn’t have ever let it happen if I’d known! I would never hurt her! the reasonable part of his brain cries out.

Shame eats at him from deep inside, cutting him. He deserves it.

How could he do this? How could he let this happen?

I should’ve known. I should’ve known the moment she kissed me that she wasn’t in her right mind.

But he didn’t, and what the hell does that say about him? He’s fucking selfish and he took something from you that you weren’t in your right mind to give.

He dry heaves, wanting desperately to expel his regret but knowing that he never will, not until the day he dies.

And what’s even worse is that he is still left with the fact that he is desperately in love with you. You don’t remember what, up until a few minutes ago, was one of the most amazing moments of his young life. You can’t share that with him. And that makes him feel even more selfish because the last thing he should be thinking of is his own damn feelings.

Sitting there on the cold floor, he tries to convince himself it’s for the best. It’s much less complicated for you this way. For you, there was no betrayal. For you, making love with him can never be a mistake you once made in a moment of anger and desperation. For you, there is only the love of friendship between you two.

Yes, it’s better this way, he thinks. He can carry the burden for both of you. He deserves to.

Because he knows he cannot give you what you need. He cannot be there for you, day in and day out, holding you tight and keeping you safe. Especially not now. Not after what he’s done.

He has to lock this away. You can never know, not ever. He must protect you from this and from his guilt. He knows you wouldn’t be able to look at him if you knew.

Oh, God. Please forgive me.

He can’t stop crying. He has to stop crying because he has to go out there and he has to look fine. He has to be fine, for your sake. You’re alive and going to be okay, and it’s that which he latches onto as a mantra in order to slide into the persona that has made his name.  

He manages to make it to the car without losing it again, as the dawn starts to break on another day. He can’t bring himself to go home; he can’t look his mother in the eye right now. So, he drives aimlessly, for hours, his sins eating away at him until he finds himself at the church.

He waits for Reverend Hamill in a pew, his thoughts dark and churning. This is just the straw that broke him, for he knows that since his fame began two years ago, he has fallen so very far. He has been self-centered and vain. He has fornicated and broken hearts and caused pain to those he claimed to love, all in the name of this new life of his. And he’s pushed his friends to do the same. His stupid, selfish actions have had a ripple effect that has completely ruined lives.

Not only had he driven June away and into the arms of another man, he’d played with your life and Jack’s as well. If he hadn’t pushed Jack to cheat, you would never have needed those pills in the first place. You almost died because he didn’t want to be alone in his debauchery, and he knows that some sick part of him pushed Jack to it because he wanted to sabotage your relationship.

Then he realizes that, on top of all that, he did another incredibly selfish and stupid thing. He came inside you, which means that you could be pregnant. And that would ruin you completely, and you wouldn’t even know why, you wouldn’t understand. He would do the right thing, of course, and maybe, someday, you would learn to forgive him, but it would ruin you all in the process.

Oh, Lord. Oh, Jesus.

He thinks he might vomit again.

When the Reverend emerges, he looks surprised to find Elvis sitting there.

“Pastor, I am the most miserable man you’ve ever seen. I am doing the things you taught me not to, and I’m not doing the things you said I should,” he sobs, “Please, please pray for me.”

“Oh, son…come in,” Reverend Hamill says.

Deflated, consumed, and heavy with his guilt and the repercussions of his actions, he follows the pastor into his office. He can’t bring himself to admit what he’s done, to admit how horrible he is. He just cannot get the words out. Instead, he weeps and prays, over and over, the Reverend praying with him.

All he can whimper out is, “Please, please forgive me for my sins. Please.” He’s not sure if he’s asking the minister or God or both. He only knows he cannot live with himself for hurting you, even if you don’t know it.

After over an hour of this, by the grace of God, he finally calms some. His entire body and soul aches.

But he knows what he has to do now. He understands the deal he has made.

It doesn’t matter what he wants or needs. You being okay is all that matters. He has to make sure you’re taken care of. He has to make sure that you are happy.

In the days and weeks and months that follow, Elvis pretends he is having the time of his life, becoming every bit the budding superstar that the country insists that he is now. Sometimes, he even believes it; sometimes, he even forgets. Though every time he sees you, his heart breaks a little more, his love for you permeating him to the core.

But he knows he can’t have you. He knows he doesn’t deserve you.

Instead, he plants seeds in Jack’s ear. “You love her, don’t ya, Jacky Boy? When are ya gonna make an honest woman of her?” He pushes Jack to fully commit to you. He even goes with Jack to buy the ring, though he stops himself from paying for it. Jack has his pride, after all.

Instead, he throws himself into work, grateful for the grueling cycle of touring and recording and appearances and acting. He throws himself into fixing up Graceland for his family, building a life of extravagance that he never could’ve dreamed of.

And, God help him, he starts seeing other girls. He leans into the image of the playboy they all want him to be. He dates and he fucks, thinking that maybe, just maybe, one of these girls will make him forget the perfect way you fit into him, forget the way your face looked when you came undone around him. That maybe one of them will come close to the wonder that is you. That they will help him forget his past sins by cutting new ones. He cannot seem to help but do the sinful things he swore he wouldn’t do, lest he drown in his sorrows, but the girls help keep him from the one thing that is off limits: You.

When Jack finally pops the question in the summer, and you accept immediately, he can barely keep himself together. He convinces himself this is the right thing, that he is happy for the both of you as he stares into the night sky knowing deep in his soul that it should be him. He reminds himself that this is the deal, this is what he wanted, to see you happy and taken care of.

And he will damn himself for your salvation every time.

December 28th, 1957, Graceland

Oh, God, what have I done?

The moment you appear down the aisle, looking ever the most beautiful, blushing bride, every part of him aches with love for you. He’d thought that by giving you the life you dreamed of, the life you needed, that it would be enough to let you go. But as Elvis stands by Jack’s side at the altar, he realizes that no matter what has happened, no matter what he has done, he is always going to love you and it’s never not going to hurt, especially not after this.

Not after the quick look you shoot him as you step up to meet Jack, your pretty, wide eyes full of excitement and emotion. Not after seeing you all in white and wishing to God that it was him marrying you right now. Not after he keeps his peace after the minister asks if there’s a reason these two should not be married.

He somehow manages to keep himself from openly weeping during the ceremony by biting the inside of his cheek repeatedly but still finds himself caught in your radiance more than once and must force himself to look away. During the wedding pictures, he cannot help but maneuver himself close to you to press a lingering kiss to your cheek, to be memorialized for all time on film. The press of his soft lips into your warm cheek sends that tell-tale shiver through him, one that drives in the fact that he still loves you. He gives himself this tiny thing, and no one questions it because they all know you are close friends, and a congratulatory cheek kiss on your wedding day is not strange.

Discretely, he makes sure to let the photographer know he wants copies of the pictures, with the excuse that he is paying for them and wants to make sure they are perfect. This, too, is not questioned, as if it is the most normal thing in the world.

To torture himself even more, he offers Graceland up for the reception. These are his two best friends, after all, now cleaved together in holy matrimony for the rest of their lives. No expense should be spared because they deserve all the happiness in the world.

And they do, he reminds himself throughout the day. They do deserve all the happiness in the world.

At least if you are with Jack, he thinks, he still has you in his life. He can still see those beautiful, wide eyes whenever he wants without question or suspicion.

He clings to this.

Even so, he feels as though he is being sucked into a riptide. It seems fated that his life is going in a much different direction than the newlyweds. The draft notice he received a week ago confirms this, weighing heavy on his heart and feeing like a nail in the coffin of his hopes and dreams.

God is testing him, he thinks. It is all a very clear and stark reminder that where he goes, you cannot follow. He cannot help but feel that God is punishing him for his sins by taking him away from the fame he has just settled into to, taking him from the people he loves and the things he loves to do. He wants to lament that it isn’t fair, but part of him knows that he deserves this, too, for what he’s done and for what he’s done to you.

And perhaps God works in mysterious ways, as while he is loathe to leave his parents and his career and his fans, he cannot help the small part of him that is relieved he doesn’t have to watch you and Jack in your newlywedded bliss for the next two years. It’s the only upshot to this entire disaster.

But he won’t let his sorrow overshadow your big day. With a smile plastered on his face, he gives a charming and loving speech of how wonderful it is to see his two best friends find such happiness with each other. He only stutters once or twice, which comes across as endearing rather than damning. But the thing is, even though he is miserable, he is still happy for you two. He wants more than anything for you to have everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and if that is with Jack, then so be it.

The only time he truly falters is during the dance.

Your little sister (who at 18 is not so little anymore), Rosie, as the Maid of Honor, dances with Jack, while he, the Best Man, dances with you. The moment he touches you, sparks fly through him and down his spine, and he cannot help but pull you in a little too close, even though everyone is looking. His large hand wraps around your smaller one and the other clings to your waist.

The thing is, you do not react to this at all, not outwardly, anyway. You let him hold you and press his cheek against your temple. You let him breathe in your scent and lean into you, as if memorizing everything about you. You let his hands contract, pulling you in closer. You let him lead because it’s like somehow you know, in your soul, that he needs this, even if you’re not exactly sure why.

And for that he is grateful. He is grateful as he takes in every bit of you, committing you to memory, knowing that soon that is all he will have of you. All you will be is a memory, imprinted on his heart, for the rest of time.

When the song comes to an end, he leans back slowly, his eyes searching your face for any recognition, any understanding of his plight, any feelings of your own that might linger in your subconscious. You stare back at him openly for a moment, and for a second he thinks he sees a glimmer of something in your eyes, but then Jack is pulling you away and the moment is gone.

As the party continues into the night, he feels like he is suffocating and escapes upstairs to his room. And as people know not to enter his bedroom without express permission, he feels safe to let out the shaking sob he’s been holding back for hours.

He’s not sure how long he cries before a tap at the door startles him into motion, frantically wiping at his face.

“Bewbie, sweet boy, can I come in? It’s just me,” his mama’s voice echoes through the door.

“Yeah, Mama, come in,” he croaks out, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. While he is relieved that it’s her and not one of the guys, or God forbid, you, he still doesn’t know how he’s going to explain the state he’s in.

His mama comes in quietly, shutting the door quickly behind her. She looks him over and in one fell swoop seems to understand, even though he’s said nothing, even though he’s spent months perfecting his nonchalantness for the world, what is going on.

But a mother knows.

His mama sits next to him on the edge of the bed, putting her arm comfortingly around his broad shoulders. “Oh, my wittle baby, it’s her, isn’t it? Our beautiful y/n. You love her,” she says, less of a question and more stating a fact.

That does him in, the way his secret is exposed so easily by his mama. It terrifies him that she knows him so well, and terrifies him that if she knows this, what else does she know? There’s no point in denying anything, so he curls into her like a child and lets go of it all, the tears streaming once again down his cheeks as his body shakes with quiet sobs.

His mama has always loved you, taking quickly to your genial ways and how you always made time to spend with her. Maybe she suspected something from the start, he doesn’t know, but she doesn’t judge or scold him now.

“H-hurts so bad, Satnin,” he hiccups out. And it does, now that he’s letting it. It feels like his heart is being ripped from his chest.

“I know, baby, I know,” she coos, rubbing his back. He can sense all the questions she wants to ask but doesn’t.

“I-I-I couldn’t…I-I ain’t w-w-what she needs or wants, Mama,” he stutters out. It’s as close as he’s willing to get to telling her the truth.

“It takes a brave man to let the girl he loves marry another, when he knows that’s what she wants, though I can’t say I wish it didn’t work out the other way,” his mama tuts.

“Y-you knew?”

“Course I knew, Bewbie. A mother always knows. To be fair, I been watchin’ the way ya look at that girl for the past few years and it didn’t take much t’put it all together, baby,” she says. “But the question is, does she know?”

He stills and stays silent for a moment, before answering truthfully, “I don’t know, Mama. I don’t think so.”

“Hmm,” she tuts, “I’m gonna trust you had good reason for lettin’ that wonderful girl go without tellin’ her how ya feel?”

His heart constricts, causing him to doubt his choices, but he can’t explain how he nearly killed you with his terrible decisions. He certainly can’t tell his mama that he made love to you when you weren’t yourself, no matter that it was you came on to him. And he knows his mama would balk if he told her how much he doesn’t deserve your love because of his sins.

“It’s better this way, Mama,” he says quietly, sitting up and staring at his hands. “And she’s happy, both she and Jack.”

His mama nods, resigned. “Alright, my sweet baby, puttin’ your friends’ happiness before your own…I know ya made the choice ya thought was best,” she says, wiping his face and pinching his cheeks, “but ya get yourself cleaned up now ‘n go be at least a ‘lil happy for your friends, okay?” She leaves the obvious unsaid—that he’s leaving to film in a few days and straight from there, it’ll be into the Army, so this will be one of the last times he can spend with them.

He nods. “O-okay, Satnin.”

And with that, he does as he’s told.

*

And then, in a blink of an eye, she’s gone. His mama is gone and his world fully collapses and it’s all his fault.

You are the only one who saves him from being completely swallowed in the blackness of his despair, and he’s not in his right mind to think or care how that looks. All he knows is you’re there when he needs you the most. You’re there to get him through the absolute worst of it before they send him a world away, and then, he loses you, too.

He loses everything that means anything to him—his mama, you, his career—and he wonders how long God will continue to punish him for his misdeeds, until he can’t bring himself to care much anymore about anything at all.

Germany feels like a cold fog that clouds his brain, even when he brings his Daddy and Dodger and Red over to live with him off base. In his haze, he writes Anita promises he wishes he could keep but deep down knows he won’t. Then, he turns around and does all the things he shouldn’t do because he can and what does it even matter if it’s all lost anyway? He takes the pills they give him to keep him awake in the field, and those make him feel pretty good, for a time anyway, and then he starts taking other pills they give him to bring him down after. In his off time, he screws and tries to forget the life he used to know.

And in those horrible quiet hours when he lies awake, trying to sleep when even the pills won’t let him, trying to escape and can’t, he thinks of you. He thinks of his love for you and your hold over him even now, a world away, and when he’s extra lonely, he imagines you on top of him, writhing and beautiful. And when he comes undone, there’s nothing left but a gaping hole in his heart and a mess in his hand.

*

March 1960

Elvis bites his nails to the quick on the long journey home. It’s not just because of the planes and the exhaustion and not knowing if he’ll ever get back to being “Elvis Presley,” but he knows he’ll be seeing you in a matter of hours. Not years or months or weeks, but hours.

And he thinks that maybe he is finally over you, that maybe he’s healed enough from everything and that he’s on his way to start something new, something fresh.

But, God, somehow you are more beautiful now than before, but you act so strange around him, and his heart wants to leap and implode all at once. Somehow everything has changed…but you, you still own his heart.

Once he discovers your pregnancy, he is over the moon for you because he can sense how badly you want this. He doesn’t care that the baby is Jack’s—he loves it more than anything because he loves you and seeing you so happy brings him true joy for the first time in a long, long time.

His career is taking off again, his new image impressing those who denounced him a few years ago, and he already has appearances and recordings and films lined up to go. Life feels…almost good, like maybe he’s finally paid his karmic debt.

Then you almost bleed to death in his arms.

His terrified confession of love is spoken in an act of desperation, a singular hope that if you know he loves you, you won’t be able to go, that the string of fate that draws you both together cannot be broken, that he can somehow will you back to life with the power of his love.

He begs God, begs as he’s never begged before, an inner wail of blood-soaked prayer that does not cease as he rides with your near-lifeless form to the hospital, nor when he calls Jack and your parents, nor as paces the waiting room.

Singularly focused on his pleas to God, he doesn’t even realize he’s covered in your blood until Charlie and Jerry arrive shortly after the ambulance and look at him in shock.

“Jesus, EP,” Charlie gasps quietly, taking in the macabre scene, “We need to get you changed and cleaned up before Jack gets here.”

That’s when he looks down and sees your life’s blood staining his pants, his shirt, his arms, his hands. God, it’s even under my nails, he thinks as he watches his hands shake, feeling utterly disconnected from his body.

He’s frozen, unable to move, repeating his prayers again and again, until Charlie whisks him away and has to physically help him strip down and wash the blood from his body in the bathroom. As he watches the pink-tinged water swirl down the drain, he cannot bear the thought that maybe it’s the last thing he has of you, these stains, and that maybe he’s truly lost you.

He just got you back. He can’t lose you. He won’t.

No, his inner mantra of prayer doesn’t cease until he is absolutely sure you are going to be okay.

Though “okay” is relative, he learns quickly. You have a long recovery ahead of you, the surgeons say, wiping their sweating brows, and the next few days will be crucial. The baby is gone, and the doctors say that more tests need to be done once you are well to see if that is even an option in the future.

He is heartbroken for you, and for Jack. But you are alive. You are alive.

Lamar and Red have to physically drag him from the hospital in the morning to get him ready and put him on the train to Florida for Frank Sinatra’s special, which is the very last thing he wants to do. But it is absolutely pivotal in his career comeback, so he tells Rosie in no uncertain terms that she is to keep him posted about her sister and any developments.

As he showers and packs, exhaustion seeping into his bones, it suddenly hits him that he told you he loved you, and it’s likely there will be fallout from that. It makes him incredibly worried, and he is even more loathe to leave until he knows where he stands with you. It’s possible you won’t even want to see him again.

Or it’s possible she loves you, too, a little voice hopes. But he knows better than to feed that monster. You don’t love him, not like that, and it’s selfish of him to even consider at a time like this.

“It’ll take your mind off things, EP,” Jerry tries to convince him, seeing his trepidation, prodding him along to get on the train. “And it’ll give y/n and Jack and her family time to get situated.”

The message is clear. Elvis is not in the inner circle of your life, not anymore, not as he wants to be. This fact is both sobering and cutting at the same time. It reminds him yet again that where he goes, you cannot follow, and where you go, he is not always welcome or needed.

He nods solemnly, thinking he finally understands, yet again, the terms of his deal with God. You live and he keeps his distance, he keeps his sins from tainting you. You live and he lets you go.

He pops a couple of pills, brought over from Germany, to wake him up, to get him in the performing mindset, to rev him up to being THE Elvis Presley. “Anything she needs, anything at all, comes to me,” he tells Jerry, “Hospital bills, recovery costs…and I want the best doctors helping her figure out her pregnancy issues. Oh, and send flowers, every day.”

Jerry nods, eyes observant and keen. “Of course, EP. Anything for y/n and Jack.”

Yes, anything for you.

*

You don’t remember a thing from that night, he learns from Rosie, and most of him thinks it’s for the best. But a small, egotistical part of him thinks bitterly that you certainly have a knack for forgetting anything monumental that happens between the two of you.

But he is busy. So busy, in fact, that he barely has time to think of you at all after that.

Except half the songs he chooses for his comeback album have something to do with you, which he only consciously realizes when he steps up to the mic to sing. And just as he thought of you the night of the talent show, he thinks of you now, singing about the girl of his best friend and how it feels so right being with you. He pours his hopes and dreams and frustrations and sorrows right into that album.

Perhaps it will cleanse him of needing you. Perhaps it’ll help him let you go.

When you find out that children are likely not in the cards for you and Jack, he sends more flowers, every day for a week. Jack is devastated and practically begs to come out to Hollywood to escape the sadness, so he agrees.

Anything for his friend, right?

He takes care of you from afar. He takes care of everything. Anything you could possibly want or need is yours. But he keeps his distance.

That is the bargain.

He falters at Christmas, almost letting his grief and yours ruin everything. He swears that you feel something for him, that maybe your impulse to be with him was not entirely driven by the drugs all those years ago. That maybe you do somehow remember his confession. Part of him swears if he had let it happen, you would’ve been his once again.

But you are not his, you never really were.

And while he knows this on a logical level, the more he is away, the more he fills his days with mindless movie making and wooing his costars and taking pills that bring him up and more that pull him down, the more he lets himself imagine you are his. From a distance, he can take care of you. From a distance and in the deep recesses of his mind, you belong to him and him alone.

“Elvis Presley” becomes a household name, now with a clean-cut image, alluring to both housewives and teenagers alike. His fame and wealth grow, and so does his isolation and loneliness. So does the need for the pills and to bring the rest of the guys into it all with him. Even Jack.

Especially Jack.

But he doesn’t like to think about why that is.

He manages to destroy his relationship with Anita along the way. He loved her, in his way, he really did. But she was not you. Neither is Ann, though he thinks for a moment that she may be the answer to his prayers, but in the end, he screws that up, too.

As the years drag on, he thinks he finally understands why he sabotages every relationship he’s ever had—it’s you—none of them are YOU. So he flits from fling to fling without ever truly landing because all he really wants is your love. But he doesn’t deserve it, he never has.

He knows this as he watches Jack descend into alcohol and drugs and women, and a small, horrible part of him wants Jack to self-destruct, and even though he knows this hurts you, he is too selfish to stop it. And the guilt of this, coupled with the downturn in his career, pushes him to self-destruct, too.

Still, he keeps his distance. When he’s home, he tries not to shoot you too many lingering glances. He reins himself in, most of the time, but in moments of weakness, he allows himself to get too close. He catches you alone, he makes a pass. But because you are you, you always rebuke him with a laugh. Silly Elvis, ever the jokester.

But sometimes, in the dark of night, in your beautiful, wide eyes, he sees something else. That deeper connection that drew you together in the first place, mixed with a heat he has only seen once or twice. And it is that which keeps his hope alive.

In an attempt to bury it and fill the hole in his heart, he almost marries, but in the end, he can’t go through with it. He’s wildly unhappy and dissatisfied, and it’s not until he finally gains some control over his career again that things take a turn for the better. He finally starts to clean up his act. He seeks knowledge and spiritual clarity. He finally finds his passion for music and performing again after nearly a decade.

But it’s too late for Jack. He managed to drag Jack to hell and while he made it back, Jack has not. And you are miserable because of it. This breaks his heart.

He tried to give you everything you wanted and needed by stepping back to let Jack do so. He kept his distance. He did what he’d promised God, and yet life still destroyed your dreams.

Jack no longer makes you happy. Jack is no longer the man who can give you what you need.

And suddenly Elvis wonders if he was wrong all along. That perhaps he wasn’t the man you needed then, but he is now. Perhaps his sins have been forgiven. Perhaps the more he pushes you away, the worse things become for both of you because you are indeed supposed to be together.

You are his. You’ve always been his.

So, riding high from his first Vegas performance, he finally allows himself to pursue you. He pushes away a decade and a half of guilt and shame and lets his charm and confidence entice you. He lets the sparks fly between you, finally free after all this time, and more intense than ever. To his gleeful surprise, you accept him willingly, if not a bit hesitantly.

Maybe it is just sex, he thinks at first, this carnal need he has for you, but he knows better. As soon as he tastes you after all these years, he knows he can never let you go again. As soon as he coaxes, then watches you come undone again and again, he realizes that still, after all this time, this is it for him. You are it. You always have been. And he will do anything to keep you, to make sure you know that you are his.

He thinks you might remember it all after that first night, but you don’t, not right away. He senses your fear to let go, to let yourself have him, to have this affair. He knows you want this to be only sex. And maybe it is for you, at first.

But he will have you. He doesn’t care how many mountains he must move or what he has to do to convince you to stay, but he loves you more than anything in the world and he’s not willing to part with you, not anymore.

It’s true that his fame, wealth, and influence have spoiled him into always getting what he desires. Of course, what he truly desires always has been you. Now unlocked, his love and want and need for you is insatiable, and he will do anything to keep it that way.

Anything for you. Anything but letting you go.

*

As the blackout of his rage starts to dissipate and he comes to, he assumes that his friends are holding him back from quite literally killing the disheveled and beaten man who used to be his best friend, and he watches with deep satisfaction as you slap the shit out of your husband.

He also feels the immense guilt of letting it get this far, of not knowing just how bad Jack was to you, and his part in all of it.

But when you vomit and promptly fall to an unconscious heap on the ground, his fear is what overshadows his rage and guilt. Something is wrong, he knows it.

Not again, not again, not again.

Triggered by your history, Elvis, with untold strength, wrenches himself from the four men holding him down and clamors to your side, everyone else forgotten.

Pulling your limp body into his lap, he screams for someone to call the doctor. His heart pounds so hard he thinks he might need one, too.

Please God, please God, please God. Not now, not after all we’ve been through.

That deep-seeded, old shame creeps back in as he rocks you: This is your fault. Your selfishness did this. You destroyed Jack, he took it out on her, and you’ve put her at risk, yet again. You are a scourge on this woman you claim to love so much. A pestilence.

He’s getting lost in this fearful despair, and then Jerry’s voice in his ear snaps him back: “EP. EP! You have to let her go, man. The doctor is here.” Jerry pulls his arms off her as the doctor examines her.

Elvis’ fingers go straight to his mouth, his obsessive habit of biting his nails taking over as he watches the doctor carefully.

The doctor looks up, taking in the scene. He looks at Elvis, then at Jack bleeding against the wall, and purses his lips. “Will somebody tell me what happened to this young lady?”

“There was an incident…” Jerry begins diplomatically.

“Her husband slammed his fist into her face!” Sandy yells over him, furious, earning scathing looks from the entourage. They knew better than to give details, knowing to keep things close to the chest and avoid any legal issues, to protect him at all costs.

“Sandy!” Jerry admonishes her.

“No, it’s okay, Jer,” Elvis says firmly, waving him off. “I’m sure the doctor knows to be discreet.”

The doctor looks up at his hovering, intimidating form, and says nothing for a moment. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I need to get her to a hospital and stabilized as soon as possible. She needs x-rays. It’s likely she has a serious concussion, Mr. Presley.”

The men start to argue, knowing that as soon as she leaves this room, a whole host of problems could fall down on them, but that’s the last thing he cares about right now. All that matters is you.

Elvis holds up his hand and everyone goes silent. “Do what you need to do, Doc. Anything she needs.”

The doctor nods and asks that someone phone for an ambulance.

Elvis looks up and sees that the men cleared the room at some point, leaving only the major players. Jack still sits, leaning on the wall next to Red, his face battered and bloody, watching the doctor. Elvis can’t tell if Jack is sorry or not. Elvis walks towards Jack, his anger tempered only by his concern for you.

“EP!” Jerry says in a warning tone, signaling for the men to flank him.

“I’m fine,” he commands, crouching at Jack’s side.

Jack flinches.

“Are you proud of yourself, Jacky Boy? Are you satisfied, seeing her laid out on the ground like that? Is this what you wanted?” he hisses.

Jack says nothing. He sees the tears in Jack’s eyes, the regret through the pain, and for a second, Elvis almost sees the man he used to know in there.

“Hmm,” he tuts, looking over his friend with disgust, shaking his head. “I’ll deal with you later. And you, too,” he says, with a low, deadly calm, pointedly to Red. Then he rises easily from the floor, his attention on the men with the stretcher who just entered the suite.

“It’s never enough with you, EP, you selfish motherfucker. The man who gets everything he wants, no matter how many lives he has to destroy to get it. The rules never apply to you, do they? Dammit, you coulda had anyone, anyone! Why did it have to be y/n?” Jack spits out mournfully from behind him.

Shame snakes through him, through the anger that continues to boil under just the surface, covering the sorrow that flows under that. There is truth in Jack’s words, he knows that, even though he wants to deny it.

“How long, Elvis?”

He supposes he owes Jack that much, though he doesn’t even turn his head.

“Opening night.”

“No, you bastard. How long have you been in love with my wife?”

The room goes silent yet again.

Elvis turns around, but he cannot bring himself to look Jack in the eyes for a moment. A lifetime of memories flashes through his head, of times much better than this, of times when they had each other’s backs. Ultimately, he knows what Jack has become is partially his fault. Ultimately, he knows it was wrong of him to want you when you weren’t his, wrong to have sex with you, even before the debacle of you and the pills. It was wrong of him to manipulate Jack into marrying you.

As much as he hates Jack right now, he once loved him, and still, he betrayed him.

Jack chuckles darkly, “That fucking long, huh?”

Elvis finally looks Jack in the eyes but says nothing. Nothing he can say will make any of this less of a fiasco. Nothing he can say with make it right, no matter how much he wants to jump in to defend himself, to tell Jack he saw you first, to tell him he wanted you first, to fucking explain that you’re his goddamn soulmate and he’s had to watch you be with someone else for almost two fucking decades.

“Ahhh, and she didn’t even know, did she?” A hint of a smile plays on Jack’s bloodied lips. “Didn’t even give the King the time of day! Well, at least I got that goin’ for me,” he laughs.  

His brow furrows as he fumes, and he steps towards Jack again. Lamar puts himself between the two men.

“It’s fine, Lamar, let him at me. What do I have to lose now anyways?” Jack laughs, which turn suddenly to sobs, “You were my brother. I gave up my life for you! I loved you, man!”

The words cut Elvis to the bone, flooding his fury with more guilt.

“And I love her,” Jack sobs.

“You don’t fucking love her,” Elvis says, infuriated, pushing past Lamar to grab Jack’s chin, wrenching his head to look at you being put on the stretcher. “You hurt her. You been hurtin’ her. And Jack, if she dies, I don’t care what brotherly love was between you and me—I will fucking kill you,” he says, low and vehement in Jack’s ear, for only him to hear.

He pulls back to stare Jack in the eye, to let him know just how serious he is, to make sure he understands that through the pain and the alcohol and whatever pills he might be on.

Jack blinks through his tears and nods his head once, shakily.

Elvis releases him.

Then he steps in behind you, still unconscious, on the stretcher as they take you out of the penthouse and to the elevator.

“EP, I really don’t think it’s a good idea to…” Charlie starts, hustling behind him.

He turns, seeing the stares of the men who have given him their lives to stand by his side. Some of them are befuddled, some understanding and resigned, some even a little suspicious after tonight’s events.

“I don’t give two shits if it’s a good idea or not, I’m goin’ with her. Anyone wanna argue with me about it?” he says impatiently, shooting up an eyebrow.

No one does.

It’s good it’s the middle of the night, otherwise he would’ve caused a huge scene at the hospital. But the nurses and doctors seem to gather by his demeanor that now is not the time for autographs. Instead of putting them in the waiting room, they set up an empty room at the end of the hall for the lot of them, a gruff old nurse warning them they best be quiet and not wake any of the patients before she closes the door on them.

And for the third time in his life, he waits to know your fate.

He waits for you, just as he’s been waiting for you for the last 18 years.

He waits and he prays, though this time, he makes no bargains with God.

He stills when the doctor finally comes to tell him that, yes, you do have a concussion and though you will likely experience symptoms as you recover, you should recover fully. He feels like the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders.

When the doctor leads him and him alone back to your room, the doctor mentions the other symptoms you’ll likely experience and that you might have issues with your memory leading up to the event. Elvis cannot help but chuckle at that.

“Oh, I’m betting she will,” he says under his breath, though this time, he thinks it might be best after what you went through tonight.

He sits by your side in the quiet, dimmed room, and is taken aback by the angry bruising already spreading over your beautiful face. His fury at Jack swells through him once more, followed immediately by sadness. You look so innocent and fragile lying there. Suddenly, he feels afraid to touch you, as though you might break.

So, he waits. He waits for you to wake and he prays. He thinks of the lifetime he’s had without you and the life he wants with you going forward. And this time, he knows he won’t be leaving your side for anyone or anything.

But his secrets still lay heavy and dark on his heart. There are those things he cannot tell you of that day at Graceland so long ago, and the things he still cannot bring himself to admit to, like his confession of love as you almost died in his arms and his meddling in your life. He doesn’t want to tell you how all of it has led to you lying here in this hospital, hurt and fragile but somehow still his, he hopes.

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do about it yet, so for now he just waits for you to come back to him.

He’s been too rough with you, he thinks, in his quest to show you how you are his. Pushing you too hard to keep up with his rockstar lifestyle and his insatiable need for you sexually has not been good for you. You’re exhausted, not eating, and have been on an emotional rollercoaster for days, and he was too consumed by his own selfishness to listen, so much so that he almost drove you away. The hurt, the feeling of pure panic that shot through him when you said you were leaving was enough to bring him to his knees, but of course, he could not tell you that. He couldn’t show you that weakness. Instead, he’d covered it with anger and passion, fucking you into submission.

He realizes his dominance, while fun in the bedroom, is perhaps masking his true feelings. He has told you in so many words how desperate he is for you, how he wants you to be with him, to let him take care of you, how he is yours, that he needs you. But in truth, he is afraid. Afraid that you don’t and never will feel the same towards him as he does towards you. That it is only his coercion, manipulation, and his sexual prowess that keeps you here with him. No matter how much you say you are his and that you will stay as he fucks it out of you, he’s not convinced that you’ll feel the same in the light of day, of your own accord.

Lord, the way you said you needed him tonight flashed him right back to that first time with you at Graceland. The time you don’t remember. He is putty in your hands now, just as he was then. But that need of yours was only sexual. If it is truly just sex for you and you are only staying for that…well, that scares him and makes him want to hold onto you so tightly that you can’t leave even if you wanted to.

If you don’t ever feel that same pull inside your heart, in your soul, that he has for you, he’s not sure what he will do.

Gone is the bravado and confidence gleaned from years of being Elvis Presley. Instead, he sits here at your bedside feeling stripped to his core: a nervous, stuttering boy with a funny name who loves you more than life itself. He is that boy who picked your books up off the ground, the one who you calmed backstage with your sweetness and wit. For you and you alone, he is just Elvis. And he’s worried he won’t recover if you don’t ever grow to love him.

Anxiety courses through him, a throbbing pulse that serves to remind him that for all he has and is in this world, he is still only a man. And you are the girl who has comforted him through some of his worst moments, yet now after all this time he’s still terrified to let you truly see him. If he lets you in, you will see him for all that he is and all the terrible parts of himself he’s ashamed of: his selfishness and possessiveness, his overindulgence, his obsessive tendencies, his goddamned vanity and ego. His secrets. If you know the things he’s kept from you, he’s not sure you’ll ever forgive him. Certainly, you could not love him.

His heart aches at that thought, flooding him with despair. He needs you so badly that he cannot bear to risk showing you everything; however, a deep part of him wants to flay himself bare to you, to expose himself in a way that he has never done before, not with anyone.

Elvis puts his head on the bed near your hand. He is going to be gentler with you, especially after tonight. He will prove to you that he is worthy of your love, that this is so much more than just sex. He’s going to take care of you and give you the life you’ve always deserved.

God has humbled him once again tonight, and he knows he must do better.

He loves you so deeply he can hardly breathe.

So, he waits. He prays.

And he hopes that one day, you will love him, too.

*

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love

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@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @eliseinmemphis @russian-soft-bitch  @tattywood 

@sassanoe @re3kin @thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23 @ab4eva 

@fic-over-cannon @lacyluver @littlebitofgreen @paigevis 

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[thisismeracing]

bono!reader head-canons

she learned how to ride a bike through brawn team members taking turns at races during the pre-race track walks to oversee her attempting to balance on her small pink bike with tassels on the end of the handles

she had a tutor for her pre-undergrad education because you cant tell me bono left this kid in the uk while he worked all over the world. but also because by the age of 5 this kid knew how advanced physics and aerodynamics worked. she needs something to challenge her and normal public school education for her age bracket was not going to cut it

there is a wall in brackley where there’s a series of marks indicating her height over the years and the team still makes her do it from time to time (imagine bono standing on a stool taking his much taller kid’s height and it being posted on the merc insta captioned: just like old times. it’s a swipe post where the first pick is bono squatting down to take 6 year old bon’s height and the second pic is the one where bono is on the stool)

she had multiple ear piercings. and they indicate her most important accomplishments. her first lobe piercing indicates her bachelors deg., and her second lobe piercing is her masters and she’s saving her 3rd lobe piercing for a potential doctorate degree. maybe she has a cartildge piercings for being hired at merc and another for being promoted to team lead

has her dad’s birthday tattooed on her somewhere, im thinking somewhere on her back

she babysits miss laura magnussen from time to time and makes everyone feel old as fuck because their og grid kid is looking after the next gen grid kid (ahhhhhhh im so soft about this hc in praticular) i think a pic of laura and bon gets posted on both the haas and merc insta captioned something along the lines of “one generation to the next”

i think she’s a high top shoe type of girl, i cant see her being a low top type of person

continuing along the same lines, is an ankle boot wearer whether it be chelsea or laced

is very proficient at riding a horse without any prior experience (i think this one gets found out after bon and bono make it out to austin to the schumacher family ranch)

not a contacts person, wears frames like her dad does but her frames are the semi round ones (think same shape as that one pic of lewis with silver frames and silver suit)

☕️

omggggg yes to all of these!!! I love those hcs smmmmm

Idk why but the shoes makes sm sense to me too. Yes to the piercings and tattoos (maybe she even got matching ones with someone in the grid or something - maybe she's the one that convinces mick to get one). the height thing made me tear up bc yes!!!!!! traditions!! traditions is the word for bono baby and we love it, we love every detail about them.

[rosecoloreddesire]

The Hold You Have Upon Me

Summary: Your best friend Olivia gets you in on her big role in a new movie and you gladly accept the offer. Little did you know the job had a lot more to offer than it lead on.

Note: I’m so sorry for being so inactive! Please forgive me y’all! Should this be my first Austin series??? But the new pics from behind the scenes??? LORD HAVE MERCY!

Part 2

Warning: FLUFF! Also I only read through this twice so I’m sorry for any errors!!

“Y/N, c’mon! You’re doing great! I’m so proud of you for being here for me.” Olivia wraps her arms around you in a warm embrace.

“You know I wouldn’t have denied being an extra in an Elvis movie,” Olivia rolls her eyes as her makeup finishes,” and wouldn’t have denied seeing my best friend have the role of her life!” She smiles as the finishing touches are applied and twirls around.

“Time to line up, girly!” She takes your hand and leads you to set. The booming echo of the band thumps within your body as you watch Baz record them up close. Olivia tugs on your arm and points at the corner of the set. There he was.

“Holy shit, Liv. He’s Adonis…” you hadn’t had the time to see Austin as Elvis yet. The sight of his tanned skin adorned in black leather pulling the air from your lungs. She laughs and pats your back as a set manager pulls her away from you. You can’t keep your eyes off of him as workers surround him to make sure he looks perfect. That shouldn’t be too hard you think. His cobalt eyes are stoic as he finally catches you staring. His smirk eliciting a squeak from your lips as you go to find the same set manager that stole Olivia away from you.

“Got enough of gawking Mr. Butler in for one day?” Mia asks as you walk up next her. You sigh and rub your hands on your face.

“He saw me and probably thinks I’m a freak.” She cackles as she’s reads the list in front of her. She pulls you along with her.

“Well, this freak is front of stage. Have fun, love.” You whip your head to glare at Mia.

“‘Mia?! Are you kidding me? This is insane! Please, put me closer to the back or something.” Mia shrugged her shoulders and looked through the papers on her clipboard. You try to look over her to no avail.

“They dressed you up just like the girl in the original ‘68 comeback that sits right there! Soooo, no can do, love!” She waves at you as you sit down. He’s going to be dancing right in front of you. You place a hand on the stage and drag your fingers on it softly. This is insane.

“Good luck, Y/N. You got this!” Olivia looks beautiful as she shakes your shoulders.

“Knock ‘em dead, Priscilla.” She smiles and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek. You smooth your skirt down as other extras begin to fill in next to you. Your heart begins to beat out of your chest as Baz calls for action.

“And here he is, Mister Elvis Presley!” The applause sign lights up as you begin to clap. Ignoring the total arousal that seeps through you as you see him begin to bend to grasp his guitar. He sits down and begins to sing and your heart all but melts. You could see he put everything into becoming Elvis and he looked just like him. You could feel tears well in your eyes as you remembered watching Elvis with your grandma when you were younger. Never understanding why she’d get so emotional. Now here you were seeing double. You smile as the song comes to an end and wipe your eyes. Baz calling cut so that he could move things around for a better shot. He smiles at you as he makes his way to Austin. You nod and turn to where Olivia is sitting. She shapes a heart with her hands and you return it as you take a deep breath.

“Quick touch up break!” Makeup artists swarm in as cast members make their ways to chairs. Some stay seated and some grab something to snack on. You watch as Austin sits down panting as staff use towels to lightly dab onto his face. He smiles and his lips curl as he listens to Baz and his flailing hands.

“Hey, why don’t you just try talking to him?” Mia startled you, your hand shooting to your chest. She grabs onto your shoulder as you grasp your surroundings again.

“M-Mia, I’m one of how many extras trying to get to know him? Give me a break! Not gonna happen-“ you choke on your last words as you make eye contact with the aforementioned man. His gaze could pierce stone as you squirm in your seat. He nods to the artist powdering his face and he rises from his chair.

“Welp, I gotta go! Have fun, darling!”

“Hey, you’re Olivia’s friend right,” you nod as your throat dries,” I’ve seen you on her Insta page. You’re uh, you look gorgeous.” Your eyes widen as does his.

“Thank y-“

“ I’m sorry if that was weird, darlin’.” His voice lowering as he rubs the back of his neck. You laugh, shaking your head.

“No,” your voice squeaking, you clear your throat,” no! Um, I think you’re gorgeous too.”

“It’s just the get up, I feel.”

“I mean the get up is a plus-“

“A plus? You really like it that much, doll?” He stepped a little closer to you. You move back a little scared he’ll hear the pounding of your heart. You place a hand on your chest as your cheeks flush.

“Austin,” his hand slips around your waist as his other hand rests tenderly against your cheek. His fingers softly move against the soft skin,” I-I do.” You splutter out meekly.

“Good. ‘Cause I’m really liking the get up you got goin’ on to.” Before you can say your weak attempt at a joke his soft lips are upon yours. His grip slowly tightens as you sigh into the kiss. You rest your hands on his chest as you feel your legs begin to weaken. His entire being yearns to be as close to as possible. He pulls away and uses the hand still on your cheek to move your face to the side. His lips finding solace betwixt your jaw and neck. You begin to giggle as he hums against your skin.

“A-Aus, what are you doing? You’re gonna have to go on soon.” He continues to hum into your skin. Not leaving any marks but leaving a slight tingle in his tracks.

“They can wait, darlin’. I just can’t get enough of you.” His phone buzzes in his pocket as he finishes his rasping speech.

“I don’t think they want to.” You wink as he pulls away from you with a pout. You stand to your tippy toes and lay a chaste kiss to his nose. His skin flushing pink within seconds.

“I’ll find you after, Y/N.” He holds your hand until ultimately he has to let it go. You sigh heavily and lean against the wall as you collect your thoughts.

“That was….adorable!!!” Olivia squeals and wraps her arms around your shoulders. You yelp and she covers your mouth.

“How could you?! Did you see all of that?!” You take her hand off your mouth.

“Hey! I was tasked to come find Elvis and found Elvis I did!” She wiggles her eyebrows as you groan. You both make your way back to set. Your seat open in the front of the stage as he winks at you from it. You take Olivia’s arm.

“I’m not sitting back up there. I just kissed him and I gotta act like that didn’t happen?” You groan once more as Olivia shrugs.

“Hey, at least it’ll help with the fan girl in love look.” She smiles as she leads you back to your seat.

“Liv, I feel like I’m gonna hurl.”

[stylespresleyhearted]

CCG — THE PRESS RUN

Notes: It’s been a long time, baby. Life has been kicking my ass but I still think of this universe constantly. Adore you @blainesebastian <3

liked by ashleybee and 15935 others

enews Elvis star Austin Butler had his leading lady on his arm at Cannes Film Festival. The couple looked stunning and more in love than ever with Butler encouraging her to pose for some solo shots. More pics of the two of them in the link in our bio

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butlerbot SHE’S SO PRETTY IM JEALOUS

austinnb have you guys seen the video that dropped 😭 he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she posed !!!

y/naustin she was so shy and he still had her take some on her own jsgsh

sheilableu Everything I see about this couple I enjoy. Very in love and genuine I see them lasting.

liked by jillian.mua and 62953 others

tmz The best girlfriend award goes to? Austin Butler’s lady has been sure to show her support for Butler through the release of the Elvis film. She as well as his sister accompanied the Elvis star to his debut interview with Jimmy Fallon. Fans were chanting her name as she entered. Pics and videos at the link in our bio

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paparazzi1 when the fans of heart throbs like you, you’re in it for the long run. was lucky enough to meet them and they were so kind and graceful

ccgfan her style is TO DIE FOR

butlerrr She looks like the star and Austin is the supportive boyfriend lmao

liked by rileykeuogh and 936910 others

hollywoodreporter A cute moment on the Golden Globes red carpet shared between Elvis star Austin Butler and his longtime girlfriend 💕 Butler spent a few seconds frantically looking around for his beautiful date but when he spotted her posing on the carpet he couldn’t help but erupt in joy and rush to plant a sweet kiss on her. Video on our TikTok and at the link in our bio 

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louisemarie they called me single and said im gonna die alone i can’t handle their cuteness

butlerrr HE IS SO IN LOVE WITH HER 😭

butlerbot siri play ‘can’t keep my eyes off you’

presleyfan her little giggle 🥰 austin is so baby

rileykeuogh This is so real. One of the first things I noticed meeting them is how in love he is. 💗

liked by ashleybee and 1539761 others

coffeegirl I’m so proud of you, babe. I witnessed you pour your heart and soul into this role and there’s no one more deserving. Love you so.

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ashleytisdale THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND!!!

catherinemartindesigns All that coffee must have helped, darling 😉

bazluhrmann No words to express the pride I feel in this guy and the work he did. Unreal.

oliviadejonge 🌹🙌🏼

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ccgupdates Reaction during Austin’s BAFTA winning speech. “… to my girlfriend, the best partner, my best friend, I thank my lucky stars every day I have you by my side. If it wasn’t for your constant love and support, for all the coffee, most of which I only ordered to see you on long set days*laughs* for the oreos and ginger ale — you’re the best part of my dreams coming true. I love you, baby.”

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presleyfam They both got teary eyed and he choked up I can’t -

butlerbot HE LOVES HER SO MUCH LIKE HE IS SO IN LOVE ❤️❤️😭😭💗💗💗

mccall OTP. CRYING.

austinelvis Ok did anyone else also spot Brendan crying during Austin’s speech too? Austin had everyone teary eyed, he’s so genuine

ashleybee ❤️

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austinbnews Austin and his girlfriend leaving the Oscars before heading to the Variety after party.

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butlerbot It’s so good to see him smiling 😭 I know it’s because he has her with him thats why I love her she makes him so happy

austinfan the Oscars were rigged but I’m happy he has her!!!

sharonbleu True love ❤️

ccgupdates They are each other’s favorite win, as long as they have each other they will always be happy and smiling and in love.