#cuck!joel

[covetyou]

just a taste

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: cuck!Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) chapter warnings: daddy kink, cuckolding, creampie, cum eating, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, male masturbation, one single pussy slap, rimming if you squint, pet names (baby, sweetheart), dd/lg vibes, established relationship, mention of original male character. word count: 2.5k summary: Joel helps you clean up a mess.

A/N: This has taken me so long to write beyond the dialogue because it's all been so distracting that I've had to stop myself and go have breaks, but then I come back and write more horny shit for parts I didn't even intend to write. cuck!Joel is something else.

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You're still floating on cloud nine when the bed dips beside you. A kiss is placed to your cheek, the corner of your mouth. You lick your lips - you can still taste him on your tongue.

"Wake up, baby. Daddy's home."

You sigh and stretch, arching your body into a bow as you pull yourself from your doze, the crumpled sheet falling to your waist as you turn to greet Joel. His hair is mussed from running his fingers through it all day, and his eyes crinkle as he smiles down at you.

"Hey, baby," he whispers, tugging the sheet further off your body. "Just look at my pretty girl."

"Hi Daddy. I missed you," you breathe, softly kissing him, that lingering taste still on your tongue.

A rough hand smooths your hair back from your face before cascading down your shoulder, over the softness of your breast and down between your legs to cup your damp pussy through your panties.

He traces soft kisses over your shoulder, your collarbone. "You have a good day?" The ghost of his words flutters over your skin, pebbling your nipples before he takes one into his mouth, sucking lightly as you melt into his touch.

You smile and nod lazily at him. You had the best day. "Mhm."

He releases from you with a pop. "You did?" He pushes softly against your mound, cupping you more firmly before rubbing his fingers from side to side across the crotch of your panties.

You wiggle your hips away from him, whining in discomfort.

"What is it? What's wrong," he says, faux concern pulling at his brows.

"My panties are all messy, Daddy," you pout, biting your bottom lip as you look at him through your lashes.

"And why's that, sweetheart?"

He keeps rubbing, his hand moving back and forth now across the damp fabric, smearing any mess into your skin with each movement and forcing you to stifle a moan.

"I don't know."

"Hm, I think we both know why your panties are messy, baby."

He raises an eyebrow at you, waiting for your confession. You bite it back and try to look away, his dark eyes boring holes into your skull, seeing right through you. He taps a finger to your cheek with his other hand, his usual sign for you to look at him. You obey. Of course you do, you always do.

"Did you have a friend over to play today?"

"No," you pout again.

slap

His broad hand claps dully against your clothed pussy, all noise and no sting. Still, it makes you gasp as the buzz shoots through your cunt straight to your sleep addled brain.

"Don't lie to me baby."

"Andrew came over to play."

"And did you play down here?" He tickles his fingers lightly over your entrance through your panties, making you squirm.

"No." This time you can't keep back the smile that pulls across your face as you say it. This was your, and you suspected his, favorite game.

He rolls his eyes at you, dragging his tongue across his teeth. He knew when you were lying and, most of all, he knew when you wanted him to know you were lying.

"Let's have a look then shall we."

He peels your sticky panties from your slick pussy, pulling them down to your knees. He looks at your glistening cunt, then to you. He's clearly unimpressed. "Think I'm gonna need a better look."

Rough hands smooth down your soft thighs, meeting at their apex and digging his fingers lightly into your flesh. Large thumbs slide up the side of your pussy and pull you open, exposing you to his gaze. The action makes you clench, pushing a trickle of milky white out from your hole and down the valley of your ass, staining Joel's bed below.

"Baby," he says, a warning tone in his voice. "I think you've been lying to me."

He traces another trickle with his finger, catching it before it can drop down to his sheets. He inspects it, before putting it in his mouth to taste. He doesn't even bother to hide his moan as he suckles on his own finger.

"I think we both know why your pussy is messy, baby. You and Andrew played with each other down here, didn't you?" He slides one thick finger all the way into you with ease and you gasp.

"Yes, Daddy."

"I'm not mad at you, baby," he says as he begins to pump his digit in and out of you, coating his finger in the clear slick if your pussy and the creamy white of your playmates spend. "I just don't like you lying to me."

His finger hooks up into you, making you moan and curl your toes, back arching from the bed.

"You have fun with Andrew?" he mutters, smiling softly, a fondness in his eyes kept only for you as he strokes your thighs.

"Mhm."

"He make you come?"

You giggle at the memory of the many times Andrew had made you come that day. "Yes Daddy."

He shakes his head at you, trying, and failing, to hide a grin by biting the inside of his cheek. This was definitely his favorite game.

"He came too, huh? Right in here?" He pushes his finger into you as deep as he can, curling it upward to hit a spot that makes you groan.

He pulls his finger out without warning, watching your hole flutter in his absence, cum coating his finger and dripping out of you once again.

"I know. There's so much in here baby, he made a real mess o' you. Lemme get this pussy cleaned up." For anyone else, this might have meant grabbing a wet wash cloth or hopping in the shower. But not for Joel. Instead, he slides his finger into his mouth, sucking it clean, and pulls your ruined panties off the rest of the way, using both hands to push your thighs wide as he leans down to lick a thick stripe through your swollen folds.

You squirm, jerking your hips from his grip. "Mnnngh, it's sensitive," you whine.

"Do you want Daddy to stop?" he says, nipping and licking at your inner thighs. Andrew's cum had spilled from you and smeared on them earlier, drying and making them sticky before you'd slipped your panties back on to keep in the rest. Joel doesn't mind, he never does, and he continues to nibble at your skin, tasting the combined release of you and another man.

You look down at him and pout. Of course you didn't want him to stop, his tongue on your pussy was the best feeling in the world, even when it made you twitch.

"Didn't think so, baby. You always want your Daddy, don't you?"

"Always, Daddy," you sigh, practically melt into the bed at his words. Even when you were being filled by someone else, you could never stop thinking about Joel - how much he would love to be there, watching you, listening to your moans, tasting you.

"I'll be gentle," he croons, stroking your thighs with his rough finger tips. "She's so sensitive, huh?"

He keeps his word, going back to lapping at you softly, small licks all over your pussy, suckling at the skin, cleaning you of the evidence of your earlier activities. He presses soft kisses back to your clit, before holding you open, pulling back your hood and lapping directly at your over sensitive nub.

"Keep still for Daddy."

It is impossible to keep still.

"Oh, fu-Daddy," you moan, reaching down to grab at his shaggy mess of hair between your legs. He looks blissful, his eyes almost closed as his mouth engulfs your clit. His tongue laps at it in broad strokes, desperate to bring you to orgasm and force more cum from your tender hole.

You were so oversensitive, so tender, that when he brings a finger back to circle the outer rim of your pussy, you can already feel your release barrelling into you. You whine, high pitched as you come, a feeble little thing in the grand scheme of things, hips gyrating uncontrollably into his face as you tug on his hair.

"Ohhhh."

Joel wastes no time unlatching from your clit and plunging his tongue into your twitching hole. He swallows heavily after each deep lick, swallowing down Andrew's cum as some of the remnants pulse out of you. His tongue teases down beyond your hole, to the crevasse of your ass, flicking over your asshole briefly to collect any drops from earlier as he teases a finger back into your cunt, dragging gently at your walls to pull more cum from you before sucking it off of his finger. He repeats the action, groaning with each taste of another mans cum off of himself.

"Open up," he says, sticking his finger deep in you and dragging it around your walls to collect as much of your slick as he can. You do as he says, letting your jaw fall open as you stick out your tongue, eager to add to the taste still held in your mouth. "Good girl. If you make a mess you gotta help clean it up."

You watch dumbly as he pulls the finger from your dripping cunt and sits up to reach and slide it between your lips. You suckle on the digit, swirling your tongue around it to taste the salty tang of your used pussy. When he removes his finger his mouth quickly finds yours, tongue lapping at your own. You can taste the same salty sweet flavor on his lips, and you reach up to hold him, pulling him into you. You feel the painfully hard bulge in his jeans grind against your thigh.

"Such a good girl," he says into your mouth, biting at your bottom lip before entwining his tongue with yours. "He got your mouth all messy too, huh?" he says, and you nod in response, nose dragging up and down the side of his nose with the movement. "I can taste it."

He's shifting back from you then, pressing your body delicately, but firmly, away from himself. You try to protest as he pushes you down into the soft embrace of his bed, but he's soon slipping back down your body and between your legs, sliding two thick fingers through your folds and into your cunt. He slips them into you with ease, pumping slow and deep as he mouths all over your tender flesh, sucking your labia into his mouth and swirling his tongue over your clit with well practiced movements.

You convulse and twitch, bearing down on his fingers as pressure builds in you once more. You clench your muscles, wanting to grip his fingers and draw him into you, but the pulsing of your cunt does nothing but push more of your playmates creamy spend from your hole and into Joel's eager mouth. He keeps slurping at you, tongue plunging into your hole with his fingers to drink down every last drop that leaks out of you.

"Oh, fuck."

He yanks his jeans down, his thick cock painfully hard from being trapped in his jeans for so long. He's been thinking about this all day, sporting a semi for most of the afternoon as he dreamed of devouring another man's cum out of your pussy. He's so fucking close he can't help himself, and he grabs his cock as soon as it's free. He jerks himself frantically as he sloppily eats your pussy, hips rutting into his own fist and tongue desperately seeking out the creamy taste of your hole as it twitches.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he mumbles into your cunt, squeezing his eyes closed, staving off his orgasm as long as he can. You feel his hot breath fan across your exposed pussy as he pants, groaning as he tastes you and moves his fist harder and harder, tighter and tighter up and down his length. You wish it was closer, you wish you could taste him, have his cum flood your mouth and erase the taste of anyone else from your tongue. You could ask for it, beg him, but his face buried in your your sensitive swollen folds is so much that the oversensitivity makes words impossible. All you can do is whine and moan, pushing your hips into his face, grinding into him as you babble the only word your brain can muster.

"Daddy, d-daddy, daaa- fu- daddy!"

You come again, legs clamping hard around his head, pulling him into you tighter when all you want to do is push him away, as sensitive as you are. He's surrounded by you, he probably can't breath, but his tongue doesn't relent and neither does his fist. You try to tug him off of you, hands pulling on his hair as you sob, but it does nothing but spur him on, nose pushing hard into you as he breathes deep one last time before his jaw goes slack and he releases a deep groan directly into your pussy, his cock throbbing in his hand. He comes long and hard, spurts of thick white cum coating his fist and the bed sheets as he comes all over himself and the bedsheets.

You go limp, thighs falling open and hand slipping from his hair, flopping uselessly down between your own legs as you gaze off into space, small whimpers still falling from your lips.

He rests his forehead on your mound, breathing deeply as he comes down from his own high. He places one last gentle kiss to your clit before placing his broad hand over you, rubbing gently, possessively.

"S'all clean now," he mumbles into you and you moan in agreement, even if you feel like more of a mess than when he started.

Joel stretches back, rolling from between your thighs to lay on his back, pulling you toward him as he goes. You curl into him, not bothering to avoid mess of his cum splattered on the sheets. The bed always needed changing after a playdate with Andrew anyway, a little more mess wouldn't hurt.

You card your fingers through his hair as his breath finally starts to steady. He takes a deep breath and shifts, his cock hanging limply against his belly now. This was your favorite thing in the world - curled up in a messy bed with Joel, both of you spent and satisfied.

"Saw Andrew as he was leaving. Told me you came six times today, baby, a new record," he finally says, looking up at you and pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

You laugh, smiling as your mouth finds his. "I lost count after three."

"Mm," he sighs as you place gentle pecks all over his lips. "You'll have to thank him extra hard next time."

"I will, Daddy. Then I'll tell you all about it."

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[toxicanonymity]

How about (dbf?) Joel sharing you with Tommy? I know I always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower 🫣

Tommy's hard day (free use)

3k / darkish!Joel x fem!reader x darkish!Tommy

Joel master list: free use section

WARNINGS: I8+ mdni. free use, dubcon (pressure/gray area) blow jobs, MFM threesome w/ Tommy & Joel Miller, cucking, unprotected P in V, creampie, Pre or non-outbreak.

A/N: Shout-out to multiple Joel & Tommy Anons incl. under-table Anon, and @milla-frenchy, sorry if I'm leaving anyone off lmk.

🖤

“Lookin’ good tonight, baby."

Joel says that almost every night. He takes a sip of his Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, puts down the bottle, and rolls up his sleeves.  He leans back in his chair.  You steal a glance at his bicep flexing, straining his shirt as his arm moves slowly under the table. You’re doing dishes in the kitchen wearing a thin, cotton sundress he bought you with sunflowers on it.  

Joel lifts his hips to unbutton and unzip his jeans.  When he's done he picks up his beer again and his other hand beckons you with a finger as he takes a sip. When he puts it back down, he pushes his chair back a few inches from the table, and you know what that means. You're salivating for it. You wash your hands and smile at him knowingly.  He doesn’t return the smile, but you see it in his eyes as they follow you to the table.  

You come around his chair, walking between Joel’s seat and the door to the garage.  You put one hand on the back of the chair and one on the table and bend your knees. 

“Wait a minute, c’mere,” he says softly and slides a hand up the back of your leg under your dress.  He palms your ass, then rotates you toward him. He swings his legs around to face you and makes room for you between them.  Both his hands rub your thighs and ass, and he nuzzles his face into your breasts as you finger his hair. He kisses your nipples through your dress - no bras in this house - moaning into the cotton as he keeps groping your behind. He smacks your ass and says, “Okay, baby,” then turns back around to face the table. 

You get on the floor between his knees. His work boots and jeans are dusty with cement mix. He hasn't showered or changed since he got home from work. His big, veiny hand holds his cock for you to take.  He's already fully hard for you as you wrap your hand around it and inhale his musk. You lick the underside from his balls to the tip and he sighs softly.  Then you take him into your mouth, immediately sucking in half his shaft. You suck him as far as you can, getting his whole cock wet. The tip inches briefly into your throat - you can't do that for long since it barely fits. You start by bobbing your head halfway down his shaft and work the bottom with your hand. 

-

You’ve only been at it for a minute when the front door opens and you stop.  “You’re not gonna believe this shit,” Tommy booms. 

You freeze, but Joel mutters, “Don’t stop, baby,” and brings a comforting hand to your head.  “What happened?” Joel yells.  Tommy’s boots thud as he gets closer. You’re facing the opposite direction so you can’t see him, and the other chairs at the table hopefully block him from seeing you. Joel’s fingers lightly nudge your head and you resume sucking him off.   Tommy goes to the kitchen and opens the fridge.  

“It’s her goddamn doctor,”  Tommy says incredulously as he opens a bottle of beer.  Apparently, Maria has been cheating on him.  

“Damn.  Fucked up,” Joel says.

Tommy pulls out a seat from the table and sits down.  His feet are dangerously close to yours. You scoot closer to Joel.  You freeze again and Joel’s fingertips pull you back down on his cock.  You slowly, quietly continue your work.  

“Can you believe that?” Tommy says. “What do I do here? What would you do?” He’s so preoccupied with his marital agony that he hasn’t noticed anything amiss at all. Joel leans forward and puts his elbows on the table, his belly nudging your head as he grabs his beer then sits back. 

“What would I do?" Joel repeats. 

"Nah, she would never,” Tommy says about you. “You dunno how lucky you are, Joel.  A woman like that? So loyal, too.” He sounds genuine. “She’s a good girl, Joel.” 

“No shit,” Joel says. 

Encouraged by Tommy’s praise and Joel’s agreement, you suck Joel more thirstily, taking him deeper into your mouth, then your throat, sucking hard.  Joel leans back and takes a deep breath, then exhales "fuck."

Tommy mirrors Joel’s body language, leans back in his chair and stretches his feet out.  And his boot hits your bare foot. “Sorry,” he says, assuming he hit Joel. 

“For what?”Joel asks.  Then Tommy casually looks under the table.  

“Fuck me,” Tommy whispers. “What the fuck, man?” As if you can’t hear him. 

“Ya didn’t knock, ring the doorbell. . . “ Joel says.  Tommy starts to get up. “Yeah, sorry.” 

“Sit down,”Joel tells him quietly and you can imagine Joel’s stare when he does it. He’s so dominant, so quietly imposing.  He doesn't have to tell Tommy twice, but Joel continues, “Stay a while. Know it's been a hard day."

You look up at Joel and he winks at you.  He’s asked you before how you’d feel about Tommy watching.  You dared to ask why Tommy.   Joel said Tommy’s harmless.  What that really meant was Tommy’s not a threat.  Joel is so confident in his dominance and control over both of you that he doesn’t have to worry at all. 

Tommy says, “So, uh. . .” having lost his whole train of thought. 

Joel takes a deep, contemplative breath.  

“Tell ya what, go sit in my chair, take a load off. Be in there in a minute.”  Joel nods toward the living room. Tommy takes his beer with him.  

Tommy breathes a sigh of relief as he stands up and mutters, “sorry” again.  His boots thud across the linoleum then disapper onto the carpet. 

Joel’s voice is low and soft.  “He’s had a bad day, baby. Why don't ya give'm some sugar?” 

“What?” you ask, your face heating up.  

Joel makes a fist and sticks his tongue in his cheek pantomiming a blow job.

You’re hesitant - what if Joel ends up getting jealous?

“Just this once baby,” he whispers.  “Hot for me to see a different angle.”  

You don’t hate the idea of having another man’s cock in your mouth, and this might be your only chance.  But most of all, you love pleasing Joel. So if this is what he wants, you’ll do it. 

"Go on,” Joel says and nods toward the living room.

-

Joel doesn’t bother putting his dick away when he pushes back from the table and stands up. He walks into the living room and sits down on the sofa.  He’s hung and he’s proud.  Tommy tries not to look at Joel’s equipment but his eyes go wide and he looks away. 

You smooth your dress as you emerge from under the table and head toward the living room.  Joel is manspreading with his hard cock in his hand, sending a pang of desire through your chest to your core.  It occurs to you this may be a rare occasion to see or at least hear Joel jack off, too.  Normally you take care of all his needs, but it’s so sexy when he does it himself. 

“Look, I caught you at a bad time, man,” Tommy says to Joel when he sees you joining them.  He assumes you're headed for Joel, and he starts to stand up.

“Sit down,” Joel tells him again. Joel looks at you with those pretty brown eyes and nods toward Tommy.  You approach Tommy in Joel's chair then look back at Joel.  

“Go on,” Joel says.  You nudge Tommy's legs apart on the sturdy ottoman and push it flush with the chair.  His legs slide off to either side of it, spread wide. He's dumbfounded, frozen. You kneel on the ottoman. This gives you more of an overhead angle than you had under the table with Joel.  You've knelt here and sucked Joel off in this chair plenty of times.

“Whoa, Joel, this is –” 

First you feel him through his pants.  He’s semi-hard. 

“Don’t be rude, Tommy. Help her with your pants.”

Tommy still hesitates, like he thinks it’s a trap. You sense Joel’s going to get pissed if Tommy doesn’t get on with it, so you help him.  “Good girl,” Joel tells you from the sofa. The armchair is roughly perpendicular to the sofa, but a few feet away. Joel has a back corner view.

You sit back on your heels.  Tommy’s heart is racing, you can see his heartbeat through his shirt.  His shallow breaths make you nervous for him.  “Joel, I feel like you’re gonna snap out of it and kill me for this.” Tommy still hasn’t addressed you directly.  

“Won’t kill ya,” Joel says with an eye roll. "Promise. . .But come on, let’s go already."  He spits in his hand to supplement your saliva.

You brace your arms on Tommy’s thighs and take his cock out.  It's pretty nice - of course it is, he's a Miller.  To you, it's not nearly as commanding as Joel's, but you know you're biased. They're just different. Tommy isn't as girthy. You're not sure about length. Tommy's has virtually no visible veins. You look back at Joel to see how he's doing. He looks smug. "Go on, baby."

You wrap your lips around Tommy’s tip and he inhales sharply.  He puts his beer on the end table and digs his fingers into the plush arms of the chair for dear life.  You suck down on his shaft and he comes to full mast in your mouth.  He tastes different, too.  Blander and not as salty.  Tommy looks straight up at the ceiling, not wanting to see Joel or Joel’s cock.  Tommy occasionally glances down at you, but you never make eye contact.  Meanwhile, Joel isn’t looking at Tommy, just you.  The way your body is curled in on itself in your sunflower dress and how pretty your mouth looks wrapped around a Miller cock.  

“You’re so damn hot, baby," Joel says as he strokes himself. You keep sucking Tommy, aroused by the sounds of Joel jacking off.  He spits in his hand again.  You pretend it’s Joel in your mouth, but your jaw isn’t getting sore like it normally would.  You flex your toes then covertly slide a heel between your legs for friction as you listen to Joel jerk off.  Joel sighs, then the springs of the sofa creak as he stands up from it. 

-

Joel makes his way over to you.  You can feel him getting closer.  You move your heel out from under yourself lest he think you’re trying to get off with Tommy.  Joel presses his hard cock against the back of your bare shoulder, making your clit twitch. You freeze with the head of Tommy’s cock in your mouth. “It’s okay, baby," Joel says. “You look hot with a cock in your mouth.” 

This is starting to feel surreal. Joel grabs at your breast and you leave your arms on Tommy's thighs as Joel plays with your nipple.  Joel nudges you up on your knees, then lifts your dress up, leaving it pulled up over your ass. He steps back and inhales deeply at the sight, then his thick fingers slide against your wet cunt, sending a bolt of arousal through you.  Joel starts working your clit like only he can, making you wetter.  When he dips a finger into you to check, he mutters, "good girl."  You’re ready for him. 

The firm head of Joel's cock nudges your entrance. He wiggles it forward, notching it for entry. His large hands grip your hips. He pulls you back toward his clothed thighs and plunges his hard cock into you with a sigh, the momentum pushing your head forward on Tommy’s cock as your body adjusts to Joel's girth.  Tommy gasps at the jolting sensation, still looking at the ceiling.

Joel retreats then plunges into you again, to the hilt, almost gagging you on Tommy’s cock as  your ass slams into his jeans, held up only by their tightness.  Each time Joel fills you up, his strong hands pull you back, your ass pushes back into him on its own, too.  Joel grunts unrestrained as if it’s just the two of you – even more than usual, really.  The sounds of Joel’s pleasure always turn you on.  You’re getting wetter and wetter around Joel's cock as he rails into you.  You give up on controlling your rhythm on Tommy’s cock and let the force of Joel’s thrusts do it all. Tommy tries not to make noise, but he breathes heavily and the occasional sigh slips out. Joel sighs loudly as he slams his length into you. 

“That’s my good girl,” Joel murmurs.  “Always tight 'n wet”  He sighs and groans softly. 

"S'weird, man," Tommy says to the ceiling.  

Joel doesn't reply, but he does lean forward and stretch his arms out, putting a hand on each of your shoulders for leverage.  He fucks you harder, vocalizing and breathing louder.  You gag only because of the force and your nose is smashed into Tommy's public bone.

Joel buries his length deep inside you, hitting the right spot, pushing an obscene moan out of you and onto Tommy's dick. Joel freezes, all the way inside you. 

That's enough, baby," he mutters.  Joel seems to have no issue with Tommy's cock in your mouth, but apparently can't stand to hear you moaning into it. 

Joel reaches forward and firmly wraps his hand around the nape of your neck where it meets your shoulders.  He pulls your head off Tommy’s cock, wraps his other arm around your front, and gropes a breast as he pulls you up. 

Tommy starts jerking off feverishly.  You don’t dare to look right at him, but you can see him.  You feel the fear in his eyes boring into you,  like he wants to finish and get out before Joel kills him. 

-

"To the left," Joel directs you.  Without pulling out, he rotates you on the ottoman so you're not looking at Tommy. Joel’s arms are wrapped around you with one hand between your legs and one across your breasts. “Yeah, baby,” he whispers as he fucks you.  He grabs your tit and strokes your clit.  He doesn't often bother.  He doesn't often need to,  but the nerves have gotten to your head in this case.  And Joel’s not going to fuck his wife in front of someone without making her come.  He nibbles at your neck - the side away from Tommy - and murmurs, "ya did good.”  His voice is low, gruff, and quiet. He rails into you faster.  “Now come for me, baby.” 

Without the preoccupation of an unfamiliar cock in your mouth, your orgasm builds rapidly.  But not as fast as Tommy's.  Tommy comes with a stifled groan and you avoid looking in his direction, as hot as it is to watch a man come.  

Joel pistons into you faster and you feel like you might burst.  His hands feel so good when he's chasing your pleasure.  Surprisingly, you don’t really want this to end.  But your end is in sight.  You don't know if Joel wants you to be quiet or not, so you act natural.  You let the sighs flow out of your lungs with Joel's big cock filling you up on the edge of climax. Joel softly bites down and moans into your neck.  Your spine arches, you gasp, then say "Jo-" but cut yourself off with moan and he releases your neck from his mouth. 

"Yeah, baby," he growls quietly.  “Come on my cock.” 

Joel holds you steady as you unravel in his arms, moaning his name. You savor his arms tightening around you. 

Joel pants "Love you, baby," cock still railing into you.  Then he erupts inside you, pulsing massively.  You’re still coming, contracting around his shaft, your peak intensified by his own pulsations.  His arm and hand press your breasts into your body as he empties his balls and you savor each pump.  When he stops moving, you lean back into him, spent. He hugs you and kisses you tenderly on the neck.  

Out of the corner of your eye, Tommy tucks his dick away.  Joel pulls out of you and puts your dress back down. "Go clean up," he tells you, then gives you a kiss on the lips with an intense affection in his eyes.  You don't make eye contact with Tommy and you still haven’t spoken to each other. 

You go upstairs to take a shower. That was wild, but you didn't hate it. You got to hear Joel jack off, and it was special the way he paid so much attention to your pleasure. He touched you for you, not just for him.  It’s hot in its own way when he touches you for his own pleasure, but there was something about feeling him being so focused on yours. It’s not that it never happens, but it’s not very often, and never with such urgency.  He also talked much more than usual.  You hadn’t heard him like that in a couple of years.

With Tommy watching, Joel did all the things you thought you didn't need.  As much as Joel's cock does for you--and it does a lot--you're remembering that it can be even better.  You don’t want to end the free use. It turns you on, thinking about him taking you at any moment.  But you wonder if there’s a way to have Joel be like this just a little more often.

-

Meanwhile, Joel stuffs himself back in his pants and collapses onto the sofa to relax. Tommy stands up nervously to leave, unsure if he should thank Joel or what.

"Where ya goin'?" Joel asks, like nothing just happened. "You wanna tell me 'bout Maria? Want another beer?"

-

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@ireadwithmyears

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore

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[agentmarcuspike]

"Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?" part 2

cw: dbf!joel miller x f!reader, pre-outbreak, kinda... blackmailing? ig, no sarah here wc: 1.3k a/n: idek what this is, i'm just practicing, and hopefully someone likes it. working on my smut, don't feel quite confident enough with it yet. maybe in the next one...?

part 1 part 3 part 4

it’s been a week since your neighbor, Joel Miller, found you naked in his bed. you’ve been avoiding leaving the house since then, worried he'll decide to report you for breaking and entering. out of sight, out of mind, you hope, as if grown man Miller never developed a sense of object permanence.

admitting to yourself that not only being caught, but being caught fucking someone in your dad's friend's bed, had made you more excited than embarrassed was not gonna happen any time soon. although you had to acknowledge that the picture of Joel with your lacy panties in his big calloused hand, and the memory of his deep voice telling the younger man to get out of his house, had you chasing a high later that night, alone in your own bed, that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"earth to daughter, anyone home...?" your dad's hand waving in front of your face brings you back to the present. he's finishing a bagel, trying to cram a bunch of folders and loose papers into his work bag, which he only half-way manages without crumpling all of them. "you okay?"

he sends you a quick worried glance, and you nod as you swallow your coffee. "yeah, fine!" you give him a half-hearted smile, and he smiles back, grimacing as he takes a sip of his own now cold coffee.

you snicker at his usual urgency, and take another sip of your own, giggling into the mug. a knock on the door, and your dad yells for them to come in. the coffee doesn't make it all the way down your throat, and threatens to come back up when you see Mr. Miller in your kitchen.

"hey there, neighbor!" your dad says with a cheer in his voice, shaking Joel's hand. "to what do we owe the pleasure?"

Joel nods, quickly glancing at you, before looking back at your dad. "nothing good, i'm afraid." he places his hands on his hips, a confidence to his stance despite the news he's bringing. "my washing machine is broken, and i could use an extra pair of hands carrying it out in the garden to make room for the new one."

for a second you rest your gaze on his biceps, his t-shirt clinging to them for dear life, and you imagine how they would strain even more while he grunts and sweats to move the washing machine.

"i'm about to head out, i'm afraid," you hear your dad apologize, quickly moving your eyes to study the crumbs left on your plate before any of them can catch your keen eye. "but i'm sure my dutiful daughter will be more than happy to show off her strength. you've been working out a lot lotely, honey, haven't you?" your head snaps back up, as you look between the men, both looking at you.

you have. you've been doing a lot of pilates and yoga on the lawn, and you've caught your neighbor hungry stare from across the fence.

"please, no..." you mutter to yourself.

"what was that?" your dad asks, looking at you sternly, as if he didn't hear exactly what you said. "if you're gonna be living here rent free, the least you can do is give our neighbor a hand."

something playful, almost provocative in Joel's eyes renders you speechless long enough for him to say "great," and give your dad an appreciative nod.

"great!" your dad repeats, patting Joel's shoulder. "see you later, kid!" he waves at you, and disappears out the door.

you're alone with Joel.

"so..."

not a word has been spoken since Joel turned on his heel in your kitchen, expecting you to follow him, which you did. the silence feels awkward, but you don't want to break it, worried he'll bring up the other night, as you walk behind him through his house, and into his downstairs laundry room.

"grab that side," he says, pointing to the the back of the machine. it's a tight squeeze, but you manage to fit yourself between the wall and the washer, pushing it towards him.

"on three." he counts, and you lift together. it's almost too heavy, but even if you wanted to you couldn't have said anything, as you both grunt and pant your way out to his back garden.

Joel stops, and nods at you to put it down. you do. your arms feel long, and you lean forwards on your knees, catching your breath. Joel takes a second to breathe and wipe his brow before he breaks the silence.

"too early for a drink?" you look at him, still out of breath, and shake your head. not in this situation, you think to yourself.

"sit," he nods towards the sofa on the back porch and disappears back into the house again. you do as you're told.

Joel reappears with two beer bottles, extending his arm for you to grab one. he sits down next to you, a little too close for comfort. you can smell the sweat from the visible perspiration stains in the armpits of his grey shirt. you both take a couple of sips in silence, before you decide to break it.

"i can wash your sheets..." it's the only thing you can think of to make up for your sins, peeling at the label of the bottle as you say it.

to your surprise, he laughs.

you look at him, and he takes a big gulp of his beer.

"nah, that's okay," he snickers. "i kinda like it, to be honest"

Joel licks his lips before he looks at you, again with the mischievous grin of his. he gives you a quick up-and-down, sending butterflies to several parts of your body, and you swallow harshly.

"you--" you start, as he places a hand on your bare thigh, grin fading, but the mischief still very much present. he gives your leg a soft squeeze.

"i mean you can wash them if it clears your conscience... but it would be a disservice. i'd have to ask you to come mess them up again."

Joel's hand is moving up and down your leg, dangerously close to the hem of your pyjamas shorts you hadn't had time to change out of. you take a deep breath, and clutch your thighs a little tighter together around the beer bottle resting between them.

"you won't tell my dad?" you ask, knowing damn well that he wouldn't tolerate you breaking into your neighbor's house to get laid, and you'd have to find another place to stay.

Joel chuckles. "no, i won't tell your dad," he assures you. "as long as you don't bring that bonehead over again." that makes you smile. "s'he really your type? wouldn't have thought you'd be into guys like that." he takes a good sip of his beer, looking out at the neat-tended garden.

"excuse me?" you say accusatory. "what you mean, guys like that? he was really nice!" Joel looks back at you again, brows raised, before looking away again, shaking his head lightly. "whatever you say, hon." then under his breath: "if you can't see it, m'not gonna say it."

you roll your eyes, and let your legs relax a little. while lifting your bottle to your lips again, Joel's fingertips press a little harder into your inner thigh. you let them.

"so are we good, Miller? seeing as i nearly broke my back helping you move that thing?" you nod towards the washing machine, looking very out of place on the otherwise neat lawn. you had always been able to see parts of his backyard from your childhood bedroom window, and you'd seen him mow the lawn shirtless more than once, shamefully thirsting from afar.

"we're good..." his eyes meet yours, the tease in them ever present.

"for now."

[not-a-unique-snowflake-blog]

I made this GIFt for my emotional support Joelkemon NightWalks Joel😍♥️ @toxicanonymity could you pls show it to him in the brothel?🙏 I tried to capture his BDE and I hope he likes it!🍆🧎🏼‍♀️😵‍💫

And thank you for the new nightwalks coded Ghostface!🔪😮‍💨 Love you!💕💖💗

[flyers-deactivated]

is it me or does it look like joel tried to sit in santa’s lap and swiftly got rejected 💀

[noxturnalnymph]

The Cuck Nod™

Before you can respond to him, Joel presses a kiss to your temple and takes both of your dirted plates in his hands and stands up. He does a subtle nod in Tommy’s direction, imperceptible to you but one that Tommy can see, and Tommy surreptitiously joins Joel as he places your dishes on a nearby countertop to be cleaned. 

On Display

“At him. Look at him.” Joel turns your head back in Tommy’s direction. His gaze on you is intense, and you find yourself unable to bear it, looking down at the floor instead. “But Tommy says,” Joel whispers in your ear, his breath hot on your neck, “That if you want him to watch, you need’a ask him yourself.”

You crave more than just Joel’s eyes on you, so he gives you an audience. (6.1k)

Tags - smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism, tommy in the cuck chair, hella dom/sub vibes, fingering, cunnilingus, masturbation, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, orgasm delay/overstimulation, little bit of manhandling action, little bit of panty sniffing/licking, being instructed/talked through it by both Tommy and Joel, threesome adjacent - tommy just watches, the sex happens between reader and joel. Fic help - @noxturnalpascal, @endlessthxxghts, and @beefrobeefcal for their eyes and help editing!! thank you all my sweet loves <3 A/N - hello! we’re not making eye contact for this one. If you’re into this please tell me so because I think I wouldn't mind writing a little more about this trio 👀

Joel’s driving you fucking nuts, in more ways than one. He’s antsy, and he’s handsy, and he’s ready to walk you home. He always walks you home, no matter what, no matter who you’re working with. You’re safe and protected in Jackson, but that doesn’t keep Joel from wanting to protect you further. 

You’re working with Tommy at the bar tonight and it’s late and past closing time, but there’s still shit to do. There always is. Joel watches you from across the room as you wipe down tables and put the chairs upside down on top of them. You’re taunting him, you must be. Wearing those jeans, that pair that fits your ass like a glove and hugs all of Joel’s favorite curves of yours. To add insult, you’re wearing that sexy perfume that Joel loves. He could smell that fruity, musky scent when he walked into the bar. Fuck, he could lick it right off your skin. Fucking eat you. There’s nothing in the world he wants more than to be inside of you, feel your warm and wet walls clenching around him.

 Joel downs the rest of his bourbon and saunters through the bar until he’s pressing himself against your back, his warm hands sliding over your hips as you gather the billiard balls on the pool table. “Let’s get outta here. S’late,” he whispers, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching your neck. 

“Joel,” you whine, reaching behind yourself to cup his face. He kisses your hand as you complain, “We can’t. I gotta finish–” you gasp as he sucks one of your fingers into his mouth. 

“Correct. You do gotta finish,” he growls against your skin.

“Joel. I need to finish closing down the bar with Tommy.” You pull your hand from his mouth and turn around to face him, to show him you mean business. All of your efforts are futile when he looks at you with those dark eyes of his, a devilish grin on his lips.

“Tommy can handle cleanin’ some dishes, sweetheart.” 

 “Joel, I’m serious.”

He’s kissing your neck now, his hands making their way down to your ass and squeezing you there. He lifts you onto the edge of the pool table and spreads your legs to fit himself between them. “You tell me all about it. Go ‘head and tell me how serious you are,” he murmurs, taunting you. “S’not like it really matters. You ain’t callin’ the shots.” 

He’s insatiable. You have to pull away from his kisses to beg him please not here, not the pool table. He shushes you gently, “I’ll tell you when and where, my darlin’. You just take what I give you.” His hands are finding their way beneath your shirt, his rough and calloused palms warm on the skin of your tummy. You let out a shaky breath as he unbuttons your jeans and shoves his hand inside them, pulling your panties to the side and running his fingers up and down your lips. 

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. Tommy’s just in the other room, and you shouldn’t be doing this. He could walk out at any moment, see you and Joel on the pool table and you’d never hear the end of it. It’d be so humiliating, so shameful and unseemly. 

And it happens. It fucking happens. 

Joel doesn’t seem to hear it, but you do. The quiet footsteps behind the closed office door, the creak of the office door’s hinge as it opens. Tommy appears in the doorway and quietly approaches the sink, turns on the water to wash some glasses. Joel’s in his own world, his eyes closed as he kisses your skin and his fingers dip between your lips, chuckling when he feels just how wet you are. But you - your eyes are on Tommy. And maybe it’s because you were anticipating seeing him but you’re not startled by his appearance, really. You’re just watching him. 

You feel guilty. Joel’s circling your clit now and you should be focusing on how good it feels, and it does feel good. But then Tommy looks in your direction and it feels better - your heart skips a beat, your stomach drops. His eyes linger on you, simply observing as you lose yourself in the sensation, as Joel’s fingers dip lower and press against your entrance, he pushes them slowly inside and you groan quietly, your eyes still on Tommy, Tommy’s eyes still on you. You’re not sure if you or he should feel more ashamed. 

Tommy smiles at you before opening his mouth to speak. “Hey Joel,” he shouts, “Quit harassin’ my employee.”

“Fuckin’ dick.” Joel huffs quietly and pulls away from you, subtly pulling his hand from out of your jeans and sucks his fingers into his mouth as he rolls his eyes at you. He turns around and blocks your body so that Tommy doesn’t see you buttoning your pants, as if he doesn’t know what Joel was just doing to you. “Wouldn’t have to f’ya would let her clock out. Place is clean as a whistle, Tommy.” 

“Yeah, but not that pool table,” Tommy quips. When you slide off of the table, Tommy’s looking at you again as if he were waiting for your reaction. You shy away as you feel your face and neck warming up. Tommy does his final walk through as you wait awkwardly, Joel standing next to you impatiently. “Place looks good. She’s all yours, Joel,” Tommy says with a smile, a smile that almost makes you dizzy. “G’night, sweetheart,” Tommy opens the door for you and Joel and sends you on your way. You don’t tell him goodnight back. 

Joel walks you home quickly, practically drags you. You have trouble keeping up with his long and quick strides. He doesn’t make it to his bedroom and instead takes you in the living room, the blinds wide open as he pulls you down onto his cock. You look out the window as Joel fucks you knowing full well anyone could walk by and see you like this, that Tommy could see you like this. 

Tommy could see you, he could see all of you. Joel’s between your thighs, whispering praises in your ear and all you can think about is Tommy, the thrill of his eyes focused only on you. Back on the pool table, you felt so good with Joel’s fingers buried in your cunt, but even better under the heavy-lidded gaze of Tommy. It was all so arousing yet so wrong. It made you feel sexy and ashamed, taboo and salacious all at the same time. You come on Joel’s cock thinking of the smirk on his brother’s lips as he watched you from feet away. 

-

The next time Tommy’s in your line of sight is the following night at dinner. You and Joel didn’t feel like cooking, so you’re eating at the community diner. Tommy’s sitting just a few seats down from you and Joel, he’s chatting it up with some friends. Tommy’s mostly focused on his conversation but he glances at you now and then, and it makes your heart beat a little faster each time with the memory of last night. You’re lost in thought and barely even realize you’re staring at him until you notice him smiling at you. 

Joel’s low voice interrupts your thoughts. “Thinkin’ about trading me in for the newer model, aren’t ya?”

“Joel!” 

“No, no. I get it,” he teases, no real hurt in his voice. “Tommy’s younger, he’s stronger, less gray…” 

You smack his arm. You’re not sure if you’re more offended by his implication or the fact he caught you ogling his brother. “No. It’s not that.” you tell him flatly. Joel raises his eyebrows at you, waiting for you to continue. “It’s…” you sigh, and Joel’s expression turns from amused to concerned. 

“You can tell me.”

“Last night,” you begin, tugging his sleeve to bring him closer to you. He tilts his head for you to whisper in his ear, “Last night, when Tommy and I were closing the bar and you came to visit. And you - we - on the pool table…Tommy watched us.”

Joel eyes Tommy after hearing your admission, but doesn’t quite glare. “Right,” he says.

“Just for a second,” you add quickly. “Just for a second.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. “That’s all.” 

Joel pauses. He studies you, his dark eyes darting between yours. “I don’t think that really is all,” he says. He knows all your tells, and he knows that you’re lying right now. At the very least, he’s certain you’re not sharing the truth in full. And what he finds most amusing, is that he knows the way you look when there’s something you want. He knows exactly what you want. “You liked it, didn’t you? His eyes on us. His eyes on you.” Busted. You press your lips together to keep yourself from smirking. “S’okay if ya did.” 

Before you can respond to him, Joel presses a kiss to your temple and takes both of your dirted plates in his hands and stands up. He does a subtle nod in Tommy’s direction, imperceptible to you but one that Tommy can see, and Tommy surreptitiously joins Joel as he places your dishes on a nearby countertop to be cleaned. 

 Joel returns to you moments later with two slices of blueberry pie. “Check it out. S’your favorite,” he says. You eat your pie with Joel, and when you look in Tommy’s direction, his chair is empty.

-

Later that evening, you and Joel walk home hand in hand. He’s oddly quiet, and when you look at him you swear you see the faintest smile on his lips. Joel walks with you up the staircase and you’re immediately intrigued by your shut bedroom door, some light peeking out at the bottom. Maybe you or Joel forgot to turn a light off this morning. It could mean nothing. 

“Good evenin’, sweetheart.” 

It’s not nothing at all. Tommy’s there, in that old, navy blue La-Z-Boy recliner that sits in the corner of your room and faces your bed, gently rocking back and forth. 

“Tommy,” you breathe shakily.

Joel approaches you from behind and puts his hands on your shoulders. “Told Tommy about your dirty little secret,” he says. It takes half a second for you to pick up what he’s putting down, and your breath hitches in your throat. “You know the one. That you liked when he watched us.” 

You turn your head, “Joel–”

“At him. Look at him.” Joel turns your head back in Tommy’s direction. His gaze on you is intense, and you find yourself unable to bear it, looking down at the floor instead. “But Tommy says,” Joel whispers in your ear, his breath hot on your neck, “That if you want him to watch, you need’a ask him yourself.” Blood rushes to your core and your mouth goes dry at Joel’s words. You’re unable to form thoughts as arousal takes over your senses, that dizzying, heady feeling building inside your body, enhanced by the fact that you and Joel aren’t the only ones in the room.

 By the way Tommy’s eyes flicker above you, you have no doubt Joel’s smiling in sick delight behind you. It comes as no surprise that Joel’s gonna make you work for what you want, he does so with everything else. You don’t come without his permission, you don’t touch yourself without his permission. You can’t even touch him without his go-ahead. He knows how to make the wait and the work worth it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. It’s agonizing every time in the best possible way. Joel nudges you. “Well get on with it, then. Don’t make him wait.”

“Tommy,” you mumble, your voice barely audible.

“What is it, gorgeous?”

Gorgeous. The compliment spills from his lips like syrup. Tommy’s always had a sweet spot for you, and no matter how many times he makes that known through his words and his actions, it always, always exhilarates you. 

“Will you - will you watch?” 

“Watch what?”

You wonder if Joel primed him, it wouldn’t surprise you. If he told Tommy to coach you through it all, make every step of the process as tedious for you as could be. Or maybe this is Tommy all on his own, and he’s cut from the same exact cloth as Joel.

“Well, spit it out,” Joel says, not allowing you hesitation for a moment further.

“Will you watch Joel fuck me?” 

 “Nuh-uh, try it again. Let’s mind our manners this time,” Joel says to you. “Now what do you say?”

“Please,” you whisper.

 “And remember to tell him thank you f’he says yes,” Joel reminds softly.

“Pleasure would be all mine, darlin’,” Tommy replies with a smile. “Be happy to.” 

“Thank you.” 

Joel presses a kiss to your head. “S’a good girl,” he murmurs.

He undresses himself first, first unbuttoning his flannel and then pulling his white t-shirt off his torso. You’re not sure where to look - him, or Tommy - when he unbuckles his belt and lets his jeans drop to the floor. 

You’re up next. He stands behind you and wraps his arms around your body as he unbuttons your own shirt, peering over your shoulder as he undoes the buttons slowly, one by one until he reaches the bottom. He peels the fabric off of your shoulders and lets it fall to the floor, joining his pile of clothes. He unzips your jeans and bends down to help you step out of them and you’re stood there in front of Tommy, clad in nothing but a bra and panties. Not for long, though, as Joel stands back up and unclasps your bra. When the garment falls, you instinctually cover your chest. “Let him see you,” Joel whispers, and you drop your arms. 

Tommy lets out a low whistle as he scans you, his eyes tracing the contours of your body. “Fuck,” he groans, one of his hands palming the sizable bulge in his jeans. “Need ya to do me a favor, sweetheart, give ‘em some lovin’ from me.”

You maintain eye contact with Tommy as you bring your hands to your chest and knead the flesh of your breasts between your fingers. You sigh in pleasure as you massage yourself, circling your nipples before pinching and rolling them between your fingers. “Oh, that’s it. Jus’ how I’d do it,” Tommy praises. 

The moment lasts just a little longer, and then Joel’s guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed, facing Tommy. Gently, he takes hold of your wrists and lays both of your palms flat on the bed, allowing himself access to you. He tilts your chin up so he can kiss you, then kisses down your jaw and your neck, sucking and biting your skin on his way down. He kneels before you, teasing your nipples himself, one in his mouth and the other between his fingers, doing a much better job than you were. His mouth and his hand trade places, a trail of spit in their path. When he's done, he kisses down, down, down until he’s reached your pussy. He presses a kiss over the already damp fabric of your underwear and hums in satisfaction. “Lift up,” he says, pulling your panties down your legs before tossing the garment behind himself in Tommy’s direction. 

Tommy catches the fabric, and for the first time he pulls his eyes from you. “Goddamn. What a mess she made,” Tommy comments, rubbing his thumb over the damp spot of your panties. His eyes flicker back up to you as he brings them to his face, inhaling your scent deeply. “Shhh,” he mouths, his pointer finger in front of his lips. When he drops his hand, his tongue darts out to lick the arousal-soaked fabric and you gasp, gasp as Joel licks a long stripe from your ass to the top of your pussy. The room is quiet, save for the heavy breathing between the three of you. 

You moan louder than you’d like to when you feel Joel’s tongue travel lower before circling your tight hole again, and you can’t help but feel self conscious.  Joel presses a couple of kisses to the surrounding area, all wet and sloppy before he dips his tongue inside you. You squirm and wonder what Tommy thinks of this, of you, as he has a perfect view of what's being licked and what’s not. 

One of your hands finds Joel’s scalp and tugs on his graying curls and waves, your free arm is bent and supporting your body as you lean back. He swirls his tongue one, then two more times around your asshole before his lips travel higher. He kisses your slick folds, sucking one into his mouth and then the other. Joel dips inside your heat, all warm and slick just for him as he inhales you, tastes you - your musk, your sweet arousal, just like honey on his tongue. He uses the muscle to trace you lazily, more for himself than you before he finds your clit, licking and sucking the sensitive part of you. And as he does, it’s just you and Joel. You fall in love with him all over again every time he’s like this, between that heated, soaking wet and private place between your thighs, his favorite place to be. His big doe eyes sparkle as he eats you the way he wants to - savoring you and your body. He’s all passion and devotion, full of love, love for both you and the performance itself. He blinks slowly, in a feline sort of way - relaxed yet laser-focused, the only time he breaks eye contact with you. You feel like you’re his prey, the mouse that the cat eats for dinner tonight. 

“Quit lookin’ at Joel, honey. He’s not goin’ nowhere. You look at me tonight,” Tommy demands, his voice is less kind than it was before. 

You find him in the corner, steadily rocking back and forth in that old chair, twirling the end of his mustache around his finger as he watches you. Instinctually, you find yourself looking back down at Joel between your thighs, seeking his permission to obey Tommy. He turns his head to the side and bites your thigh, not hard but enough to startle, the way a dog does to discipline her pup. “What’d Tommy just tell you?” Joel scolds. “My apologies, Tommy,” he mumbles against your skin.

“S’alright. I know she’s new to it.” Tommy’s words go straight to your core. It’s that condescending tone, paired with that sugar-sweet smirk on his lips as he says it. 

Joel’s tongue and lips on your clit continue to work magic. He eats you the way he does every time - like it’s not something he’s doing for you, but to you, his own endeavor. It’s all lust and hunger, fingertips bruising your skin under his vice-like grip, tongue relentlessly laving over your sex. His patchy beard gently scratches your inner thighs, rubs you raw so that you’ll be feeling him in the coming days after this. Your skin will burn under the hot water of your bath and the lather of unscented soap on Joel’s hands as he washes you, and he’ll hush you as you wince at the sting. “Shhh. M’almost done,” he’ll tell you, like he tells you every time. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You writhe and grind against Joel’s mouth, attempting to take some semblance of control over your pleasure. Joel swats your ass cheek and holds you still. You’re gonna take what he gives you, feel exactly what he wants you to. Feel his aquiline nose circling your clit, his tongue dipping in and out of your slick hole. You let out moans, pleasure building quickly. You feel it everywhere - deep in your gut, up your spine, down your legs.

Tommy listens intently to all the noises you make as Joel eats you. Your cunt and those lewd, sloppy, wet sounds it’s making as it’s licked, sucked, lapped at and kissed. Your moans, how they turn from loud and spaced out between each other, to quick and breathy, shorter and higher pitched. When you begin to go quiet Tommy watches you closer, your eyebrows knit together, the muscles in your thighs begin to jerk and flutter. “You close, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, “S-so close.”

“Not yet, Joel,” Tommy says. And Joel listens. Your mouth drops, your eyes wide and dismayed like a wounded animal as he retreats from you, his lips and chin shiny with your juices. You look at Tommy with that same hurt expression.

“Hey. Don’t you pout at him like that,” Joel barks. “S’rude. Tommy’s a guest in our home. You need’a apologize.” 

A contrite look washes over your face and you apologize quickly, “I’m sorry, Tommy.”

Tommy looks impressed by the way you submit yourself so readily to him. “S’water under the bridge, darlin’,” he purrs.

Joel rises then, groaning as his joints softly pop and crack. He rounds the bed and props a couple of pillows up against the headboard, sighing softly as he sits on the bed and leans against them. He spreads his legs and reaches forward to grab you by your armpits and pull you back against him, his bare chest against your back, his warm, stiff package pressing into you. You’re still facing Tommy as Joel spreads your legs apart. “Can you spread ‘er a bit wider?” Tommy asks him. 

“Certainly,” Joel says. “Your wish is her command. Isn’t it, baby?” Joel nudges the side of your face with his nose, you can smell your arousal on his skin. “Show Tommy what he wants to see.” You spread your legs a little further apart, “Keep goin’,” Joel whispers. “You know what to do.” 

You do know what to do. You’re about to feel so exposed, so bare. With trembling hands, you reach for your center and spread your own lips a little wider for Tommy’s gaze. Joel kneads your breasts as Tommy takes you in and watches your pussy drip onto the bed sheets. “Prettier than a picture,” he says. 

“Yeah, ain’t she just,” Joel says. He pulls your hands away and replaces them with one of his own to cup your mound, the other sliding up your torso, your neck, until your jaw is held securely in his hand. He’s making sure you don’t look anywhere but where you’re supposed to.

Joel kisses the side of your head and pulls your earlobe between his teeth, biting you gently as he dips two fingers into your slick hole to gather your arousal, and then he drags it up your seam and circles your clit. 

“You takin’ requests, Joel?” Tommy inquires. Your eyes flicker to his and he meets you with a lopsided grin. It’s a dangerous one at that, one that tells you he’s going to like making you suffer, ache, and beg for it just as much as Joel does. 

“Name it.” 

“Go a little slower. Don’t give it all to her yet.” 

You whine and squirm at Tommy’s instruction. “Relax,” Joel grunts. “You’ll be fine. We’re goin’ nice an’ slow for Tommy tonight.” Joel whispers, his fingers no longer circling your clit but prodding gently at your hole. “Nice…and slow.” 

There’s no gratification at his touch, no relief. You stay upright and facing Tommy, willing yourself to stay focused on him, knowing that he’d probably find satisfaction in ratting you out to Joel should you look away. Tommy watches you carefully, watches the way your bottom lip wobbles and how you writhe with Joel’s teasing. He holds his palm against his erection and presses down hard on himself. He groans, he almost sounds like he’s in pain. He’s been denying himself his own touch for far too long and unzips his jeans to pull his cock out. It springs up, long and thick, his tip blushing an angry red color. 

You study him as he tends to himself. He spits in the palm of his hand and wraps it around his member, tightening his fist as he watches your pussy being teased. A couple of his dark curls fall forward over his eyes as he tilts his head down, and he frantically pushes them out of his face. You swear you’ve seen Joel do the same thing before. You watch all of Tommy’s mannerisms and expressions, and see them mirroring those of his brother. It’s almost jarring.

You wonder if he’d tease you like this too. If the tables were turned, and it was Joel in that old recliner instead of Tommy, if he’d tease you as agonizingly. Probably, but there’s a part of you that doesn’t think so. Tommy’s impulsive at times, impatient. Joel’s not - he’s calculated, careful. Intentional. You wonder if Tommy’s hands would have the same warmth that Joel’s do. 

Tommy chuckles as you buck your hips into Joel’s hand. “You’re torturin’ that poor girl, Joel.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Joel goads, his mind apparently thinking the same thoughts as yours.

“Oh, without a doubt,” Tommy replies., winking at you. 

Joel lazily draws patterns up and down your folds, circling around your clit now and then. You grip his forearms, nails digging into his skin, feeling his muscles flex under your palms as your hole clenches, arousal dripping from it and furthering the mess on the sheets. “Joel,” you whine, “Please.”

“M’just the middleman right now,” Joel purrs. It’s the most frustrating thing he could say. You know he’s at the top of the totem pole right now, that he holds all the power. But the way he pretends he doesn’t is what makes it all so fucking frustrating. 

You look at Tommy, begging him silently. “Give her a little,”  he says. “I’m feelin’ generous.”

Only then do you feel Joel's fingers dip inside you. Finally, you feel that stretch you’ve been craving as he pushes them as far as they can go, down to his scarred knuckles. You sigh in relief, “Fuck,” you breathe. Joel pumps his fingers in and out of you a couple of times, simply stretching you. 

“Hey Tommy,” Joel says. “You wanna see somethin’ cool?”

Tommy nods, still pumping his cock up and down. Joel adjusts himself some and begins to curl his fingers inside of you repeatedly, hitting that sweet spot he’s come to know so intimately. “Fuck, fuck,” you whine. The effect the action has on you could not be more glaringly apparent. You’re squirming, eyes rolling back into your skull as your thighs clamp around Joel’s arm, your toes curling as the feeling builds and intensifies. His other hand has left your jaw and he’s tweaking your nipples now. “Joel, oh my god, it - you - s’good–”

“Look at her go,” Tommy marvels. “Fuckin’ Christ.” He pumps himself more furiously now, watching as you melt under Joel’s touch. He’s so beautiful like this, fucking himself into his fist to your image. But it’s all too much, you retreat into yourself, eyes fluttering shut as you lean back onto Joel’s shoulder. He nudges you forward, “Don’t be gettin’ lazy on me, now. C’mon, up–” Joel pulls his fingers from your core unceremoniously, slick and shiny with your juices. He stuffs them in your mouth and has you suck on them, taste the tangy sweetness. When he pulls them out, you know what’s coming next. “On your hands and knees, sweetheart.” 

You move into position like Joel’s asked you to. Your legs and arms tremble as you do, garnering a soft chuckle from Tommy. “You’re alright,” he soothes, still chuckling a little. “One step at a time.”

Joel pulls his boxers all the way off and kneels behind you. He pushes your chest down a bit, angles your hips up as he uses a knee to spread your legs wider. He planned it this way - there’s a mirror on the wall opposite the bed that will not only allow him to admire your body rocking with his every thrust, but that allows him to see your face. To check in on you. To make sure you’re looking at Tommy, Just as you’re supposed to. 

Joel runs a palm up and down your spine before taking his rock hard and leaking cock in the other hand, pumping it a couple times and rubbing the tip over the swell of your ass before he lines it up with your entrance. He notches himself at your entrance and sucks in a deep breath as he pushes himself into you fully, in one swift thrust. 

You whine. It hurts, really hurts. It always does, always takes you a minute to adjust and get used to the delicious, aching stretch of his cock sliding inside of you to the furthest depth. “Just look at Tommy,” he tells you in a hushed tone, his way of distracting you from the pain. “Focus on him. You’re okay.” 

“T-Tommy,” you sob. 

“S’right, you just keep lookin’ at me, beautiful,” he coaches. “Look at how good you’re doin’. Doin’ so good.” 

Your eyes flutter shut and you arch into it, into Joel, allowing your body to welcome his intrusion. He pulls out of you slowly, admiring the way your arousal has coated his cock, and then buries himself inside you again. Tommy watches the way your fingers twitch as you grip the bed sheets. 

Joel grunts as he rocks into you at a slow and steady pace, working himself deeper and deeper inside your cunt. He loves the way his cock disappears into your body with each of his slow, calculated thrusts, the whimpers that fall from your lips to match. “Oh, there she is,” Joel purrs. “I know, baby. I’m listening. Tell me how good it feels.”

“So good,” you moan. You’re inundated by him, just like always. Lost in his touch, his palms so warm and heavy on your skin. Lost in the pleasure flowing between your hips as he fucks you. 

“Joel,” Tommy calls his name softly. Fuck. When your eyes find him, he’s looking right at you. “Your girl ain’t lookin’ at me. Beginnin’ to wonder what I came down here for, you know.” 

Joel laughs. “You’ll have to give her a minute, Tommy. She has trouble listenin’ when I got her stuffed full like this. Don’t you, sweetheart?” Joel leans forward and wraps a hand around your throat so he can whisper in your ear, “Don’t make him say it again.” It’s a warning, your one and only.

“Yeah, you said she’d do that,” Tommy says. “Poor baby.”

You watch him like you’re supposed to. He’s watching just as intently, his eyes are dark and his gaze is unwavering. He’s completely mesmerized by you as his stroking becomes faster, harder, sloppier. 

“Tell Tommy how much you like havin’ him watch you,” Joel pants. 

“Yeah,” Tommy says, “Tell me, sweet girl. I wanna know.” 

“I like it, Tommy,” you rasp. You didn’t even realize tears were brimming in your eyes until a few fall down your cheeks. Your stay focused on Tommy. He’s biting his bottom lip, breathing heavily through his nose as he pumps himself. “I love it.”

 “I do too, honey. I think you’re so pretty, gettin’ fucked like this.” 

Joel fucks you just like that for a little while longer, slamming his hips into you at a frenzied pace. He winks at Tommy as he curls himself a little closer to you and reaches between your legs, the pads of his fingers finding your clit to massage the sensitive part of you. Tommy quickly smiles before his face contorts in pleasure again as he focuses on you. Tommy can see it happening, and Joel can feel it - your walls begin to flutter around his cock, your sharp breaths begin to quicken and become unsteady. You squeeze your eyes shut and concentrate hard on the familiar pleasure building deep inside of you, because it’s too hard to concentrate on Tommy. 

“She’s off in her own world again,” Tommy’s complaint is barely audible to you as you really are lost in your own world. “She just don’t listen, huh?”

“We’ve been workin’ on it. But why don’t you remind her, Tommy. Maybe you’ll get through to her.” 

Your stomach drops at that. Tommy rises and approaches you and all you can feel is anticipation, excitement. Maybe even a little fear. He extends his free arm and cups your jaw, the other one now lazily stroking himself. He stands above you in an almost domineering sort of way, just like you love. You’ve got no choice but to look at him, admire his beauty - his dark curls, the freckles on his nose, a different shape than his brother’s but just as beautiful. His wide barrel chest, his cock from a closer view. His pubic hair neatly trimmed, and you wonder if maybe he did it for you. 

Tommy admires you right back. Your wide eyes, your lips parted and wet with drool. Your skin is damp with sweat as your body bounces under Joel while he fucks you. Tommy lets go of his cock and holds his hand under your chin, “Spit,” he tells you, loosening his grip on your jaw. You spit into his palm and he tightens his hold on you again and goes back to pleasuring himself. He notices that you watch him stroke his cock instead of his face, but he doesn’t mind that. Tommy rubs his thumb back and forth over your cheek in a soothing manner. 

“You’re gettin’ close, aren’t you?” Joel asks. “You gonna come?”

“Y-yeah,” you nod as best as you can with your head held by Tommy and Joel never faltering in his pace. “I’m gonna –” 

“Go ask Tommy. Ask him if you’re allowed to come on my cock.”

“Tommy?” your voice is small, weak. “Please.”

“Wait on it, sweetheart.” 

You groan, fighting as hard as you can to stave off release as Joel rounds your clit with his fingertips over and over. You know it’s coming, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it as you squirm and whimper. You’re desperate, and feel pathetic. Tommy wears a pitying sort of smile as he looks down at you. You look pathetic, getting fucked on all fours, your limbs trembling uncontrollably, your eyes tear-stained as you sniffle. “Christ, she’s makin’ me soft,” he groans, rubbing your cheeks affectionately. “Let her come, Joel. She earned it.” 

Finally, release. You moan loudly, coming immediately, your vision turning blurry from the intensity. You feel like you’re going to break into a million little pieces as Joel fucks you apart. It’s surreal, feeling Joel’s frenetic thrusts inside of you while you’re looking right at Tommy. 

Joel doesn’t stop. You can tell he’s close too, but he keeps it together, all for the sake of pushing you past your limit. “Joel,” you cry. “Joel, I can - I can’t.” 

“Bet Tommy thinks you can,” he grunts. “Tommy?”

“Mhm, I do,” he replies. “Let it ride, baby. Gimme one for the road.”

It’s all a blur even when you come again. Your own orgasm coaxes Joel’s, and you feel that familiar, comforting warmth as he spills inside you, “Fuck,” he groans. “Oh, goddamn. Fuck.” The steady decline from pleasure is overwhelming, you’re not sure if it’s even happening - it’s all so endless, no clear beginning or end. Joel fucks you through his own orgasm and Tommy’s grunting, moaning as he spills into his fist. 

The rest of it happens in a daze. Joel pulling out of you, flopping back onto the bed. You collapse onto your stomach but he pulls you into his chest again, scooping up your body to hold you through the comedown. Tommy licks his hand and Joel notices how you watch, practically salivating  at the sight. Tommy looks at Joel for permission, and Joel nods.

“Be a lamb,” Joel says as Tommy holds his hand in front of your face. The implication is clear. In Joel’s arms, you lick Tommy's hand clean of his spend, humming at the taste. When you’re done, Tommy bends to kiss you on the forehead. “You did so good,” he whispers. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Tommy leaves then, and the moment settles. Your breathing slows as you come back to earth in Joel’s arms. “I spoil ya,” he says. “You know that?”

“Mhm,” you nod. 

“Was it everything you wanted?” 

You nod again. It’s true, it was perfect. 

Perfect in the way you’ll be replaying this night in your head for weeks to come. You’ll think of it in bed and during mundane activities, you’ll think about it the next time Joel fucks you. You’re already thinking of it - the way Tommy lingered in your mind before, how he watched you being fucked on Joel’s fingers as he washed those glasses - the same thing happens tonight. Though it’s not Tommy’s image that you think of. It’s not Tommy pumping his cock and admiring you, it’s not his smile or his sweet praises. It’s his touch that haunts you. You can still feel the weight of his palm on your cheek, and can still feel his kiss on your forehead. 

And Joel knows you’re not yet satiated. 

If you enjoyed please reblog, send me an ask, leave a comment 🩷 your words keep me motivated to write for you all

Also if you read this and have had cavity fillings before, please tell me some encouraging things 🥲 I have my first fillings tomorrow and I am very nervous

[covetyou]

first steps

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist part one ⋆ part two ⋆ part three

pairing: cuck!Joel x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: cuckolding, daddy kink, unprotected PIV, creampie, cuddle!fucking!, kinda premature ejaculation, praise kink, pet names, reader gets a brief foot rub, mention of male OC, ddlg vibes, established relationship. word count: 3.6k summary: You can't get thoughts of him out of your head, and Joel does nothing (or everything?) to help matters.

A/N: this takes place at the start of cuck!Joel's adventures in being cucked. they're on a journey of self discovery here folks. I daresay this is almost sweet and soft. look at me go. I'm growing as a person. follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

You're in bed already; teeth brushed, washed up, and those god forsaken shoes off of your aching feet, waiting for Joel and his promised foot rub. It had been a long day, and an even longer evening, made longer still by the ache cramping your toes.

You huff to yourself - patience not being your strong suit when it came to Joel - and throw yourself back into the pillows. You were quite happily getting handsy downstairs, palming his erection through his dress pants when his phone had rang. At 11pm on a Friday. You'd rolled your eyes at him, pulling away as he swatted at your ass. It was a work call he said. He had to take it.

"I'll be up as soon as I can, baby," he called after you, and you had stuck out your tongue at him before disappearing up the stairs, shoes in hand.

It was okay, you figured. You'd spent the best part of the night mildly tormented. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt. From the moment you'd got to Joel's house that evening, he'd been touching you, whispering praise, telling you how beautiful you looked and how he wanted to just take you right there and then but sorry baby, we gotta get goin'. That hadn't stopped him sliding a hand up your thigh and dancing his fingertips across the front of your panties for the entire ride to the venue. By the time you got there, you were dripping and ready to come, but he had simply extracted his hand and got out of the car, leaving you hot and bothered and alone in the passenger seat.

And it hadn't got much better from there. Joel was making his way around the room, introducing you with a look in his eye that made you weak at the knees. You'd never known someone to be so proud to know you, so keen to show you off, before you'd met Joel. His hand would slide protectively up your back, drawing goosebumps across your flesh, or lightly ghost over your ass, whispering promises of later in your ear. He pressed endless kisses to your temple, and more than once you had to fight the supernova in your chest from exploding outward, flinging yourself at him with the force of it, and begging him to take you home as you wept into his mouth.

But then he'd introduced you to him. A contractor who he'd picked up on their latest job. He was shorter than Joel, and well dressed with dark hair and pristine shoes. You remember the shoes well - you'd focused on them for a long time, unable to keep looking at his face for fear of the heat that would spread to yours.

"This is my girl. Told you about her," Joel introduced you, shouting loud over the noise booming from the speakers. He kissed you on the side of the face then, watching you like a hawk as you looked up and smiled sweetly at the beautiful man before you - Andrew, from what you heard Joel say over the music - and choked out a small hello.

Joel took that moment to excuse himself.

"Gonna go get our friend here another drink."

You turned to kissed him square on the mouth before he could stride off, leaving you alone with Andrew, nipples puckering almost painfully beneath the thin material of your dress.

Small talk had been awkward all evening, mostly because you hadn't really wanted to be there, but with Andrew it was anything but. He spoke to you like it was the easiest thing in the world, laughing and joking together like you'd known each other for longer than a few minutes. You were transfixed, talking animatedly as you rested a hand on his arm, making a comment that made him laugh, a deep contagious thing that made your core drip with want. All the while, dark eyes from across a room stare at you, and you don't realize for a second that it's taken much longer than a few minutes to grab a drink.

Joel had known, you were sure of it. Maybe it was your wide eyes, or your shuffling feet played off as just the ache in your toes, but talking to Andrew did something to you, and Joel knew. Finding out he was here alone and would be going home to an empty apartment too was more of a thrill than it should have been. Not that you would be. You'd be going home with Joel, but that made the thought of him all the sweeter.

It's a thought that still lingers with you as you lie here in Joel's bed hours later. You sigh, trailing your fingertips softly up your body, willing Joel to hurry up and finish his phonecall so he can relieve the ache from more than just your feet.

And that's just how he finds you a few minutes later. Caressing your own soft flesh beneath crisp sheets, caught in a fantasy of a shapeshifting man.

"Sorry baby, was Tommy. Security called him in for a late delivery, ruined his date." You open your eyes, not realizing you'd even closed them, and look up at him with a soft smile. The shapeshift man is clear as day now, no longer shifting between the men that could be, but staying firmly as one that is right in front of you. Fuck, do you want him.

His back is to you tugging his shirt from his arms, revealing broad shoulders and his soft belly as he turns. He spots your hands moving beneath the sheets you'd tucked yourself into, unable to keep them still even now that he's here.

"Gettin' started without me?" he asks, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"You were taking too long," you say, dragging your fingertips across the swell of your breasts and up your neck into a lazy stretch.

Reaching for your outstretched leg, he pulls your foot from its confines, making you yelp and giggle as he tugs you down the bed. He did promise you a foot rub. Strong thumbs push into your arch, rubbing there, making your foot flex, the ache in your sole abating just a little with each slow rotation. You groan, lost in the relief his hands bring, before he's switching to the other foot and doing the same all over again.

You're Jell-o by the time he's finished, kissing all over your calves, knees, thighs, as he crawls up your body.

He nuzzles into the soft front of your panties, still damp or newly damp, you're not quite sure, and breathes you in. He mouths at you over the thin fabric, and you're so desperate for more friction on your clit after hours of waiting that you wiggle, trying to grind yourself against his face.

"I know what you want when you get all wiggly, baby," he says, a knowing smile pulling at his lips. He tickles his fingers across your damp crotch, making you wiggle even more. "You want your daddy, don't you?"

"Yes, Daddy," you say eagerly, reaching down to scratch at the scruff on his face, trying to tug him up to you for a kiss. "I've been a good girl."

He presses a long kiss to your palm, nudging your hand away with his head so he can burrow his face into your mound again. "Mm. You have. Know you didn't wanna stay that long, but you did so good for me." It comes out as nothing more than a mumble, the deep vibrations of his voice shooting straight to your pussy.

The truth was you hadn't expected to like anything about this evening that didn't involve Joel. But you had, and that had made sticking around far more tolerable than it should have been, even with the consistent trickle of want through your core.

"Think we should get these panties off o' you and see what mess we're dealing with. Been worked up all night, huh?" he asks, as if he hadn't been responsible for it.

He peels your underwear from you, tugging them down your legs and throwing them behind him without a care for where they land, before he spreads you open and takes a leisurely lick through your folds. He can never resist, the sight of you so worked up for him from so little always such a temptation. He licks again, looking up at you with a smirk as you melt further into his sheets. The slippery muscle of his tongue pushes into your slick hole and fucks you gently, tasting every drop of desire you'd had for him - and Andrew.

A final peck to your clit and he's groaning, shifting up the bed to slotting in beside you with a heavy sigh, curving his broader frame against yours. You find his mouth, needing to have him close to you in every way you can, and kiss him, holding his head in your hands as his own finds its way between your legs. Large fingers stroke delicately across your pussy. His own spit makes the soft drag of his fingers effortless as he finds your clit with practiced ease, and swipes gently at the swollen nub.

Your own hands roam, drifting from his face, slyly tracing down his body until you're tucking your fingers into his pants. Only, it's not sly at all, and he's holding back his amusement when he whispers into your mouth, unzipping his pants and pulling them down before settling beside you once more. "S'alright, I got you."

Your hand immediately flies to his cock, stroking across his smooth length, wasting no time in working him back up after it had softened since your antics downstairs. When he's stiffened in your palm, standing up and knocking rigidly against his belly when you let go, you trail your fingers down to his balls. You lightly squeeze, massaging them in your palm, rolling your thumb over the soft flesh.

He groans, closing his eyes as he grabs his own dick in his massive fist, long lashes tickling his cheek. "That's it, stroke Daddy's balls. Gotta get ready to go in that pretty pussy of yours baby."

You lightly drag your nails across his sack as his slowly jerks himself, stiffening further the more you play with him. You revel in the shaky breath your nails draw from him, nuzzling into his chest. The velvety scent of his cologne is faint now, but you breathe deep regardless - the smell of his bare skin and a subtle hint of his sweat was better than any bottled fragrance anyway.

He pulls his hand from between your legs to reach over to his bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube. Both of you know you're slick enough to take him without it, but the slip of his lubed up dick gliding so easily in and out of you without stretching you with his fingers first was too much to resist.

A sound you love to hear, a soft gasp, leaves his lips when he drizzles some of the cold liquid onto the head his engorged cock, letting you spread it over him with your own fist before nudging you onto your side, forcing you to release your grip.

He is everywhere, surrounding you in every sense. A broad arm tucks under your waist, hugging you tight to his chest with a palm pressed flat between your breasts. His lips are on your cheek, tracing wet biting kisses down your neck. You turn to moan into his pillow just as his other hand snakes its way back between your thighs, pushing the plush flesh aside to rub broad circles over your soaked pussy.

"Gonna take me in now baby, open up for me." Arching your back, you expose your cunt to him from behind as his length ruts against you, lube spreading across your thighs. He fucks between the meat of them, grazing your pussy and nudging into your clit and his own palm with each thrust.

"Don't tease, Daddy," you whine, already so far gone you're ready to plead with him to just fuck you already.

"No teasin' baby, you've been so good for me. Gonna give it straight to you. Here it comes," and he feeds the tip of his cock into you, gently fucking you with his thick head. You push your hips back, slipping more of him into your wet heat, delighting in the feeling the stretch in your cunt and his ragged breath on the back of your neck. Slick dribbles out of you, coating him as he pushes in to the hilt.

"Ohhh, f- mm."

He holds you tighter when you moan, his front flush with your back. You're totally cocooned in his arms as he begins sliding his cock in and out of you with minute thrusts of his hips.

Being cuddled and fucked like this was your favorite. His hands could roam freely, stroking your belly, tugging at your nipples, sticking a finger in your mouth for you to suck on, all whilst his hips gently rocked into you, your pussy coating him, dripping wet slick all over him and making a mess between the two of you the longer it went on. And it could go on. Sometimes he would make you lie here for what felt like hours, talking and watching a movie as he painfully slowly fucked you, keeping himself hard for so long you feared it'd do damage. When he eventually came, it'd be an easy thing, a few quicker thrusts pulling him over the edge and spilling his cum inside you, painting you, filling you so full it'd leak out of you where he had you plugged. You loved those days.

This was not one of those days.

He starts snapping his hips quicker, thrusts still shallow as his fingers start to rub deliberate circles over your clit once again. Remembering your manners you stutter out a quick thank you Daddy when his fingers pick up the pace.

"Can't get enough of your daddy's cock, can you? It's all you want."

You make a noise, somewhere between a groan and a negative. After today you couldn't say it was. You'd seen the way he had looked at you, and the way that Joel had looked at you because of it. Whatever that was, you wanted it, and you were pretty sure Joel did too.

"No? You want other dicks in this pussy?"

Biting into the pillow, you nod, stifling another whine. You'd almost be ashamed that you'd been so obvious with it, flirting too brazenly in front of too many people, but you're too far gone to care.

"Fuck yeah, you do. My baby wants to be filled with so many cocks, don't she? Have 'em fuck you and then you come crawling back to me to kiss it better."

And that's it, that's the thing that sends you over.

"Oh fu-Daddy, D-Daddy, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come."

His cock slips further into you, stretching you out and dragging against every part of you as his fingers pull an orgasm from your twitching clit.

"That's it. You come thinking about all those cocks that are going to ruin this pretty little hole."

You do. The arms wrapped around you are Joel's, but you imagine the cock buried in you is anyone but. Faceless strangers, acquaintances, colleagues. You want it so badly that when your orgasm finally wanes, you let out a feeble sob, burying your face into the pillow once more.

He holds you tightly to him, grinding into you slow and deep, your pussy sloshing wetly around him with your release.

"It's okay," he coos as you shudder, crowding over you now to nuzzle into your cheek. "Don't hide from me. You're allowed to have a greedy little pussy baby. Daddy doesn't mind."

He cradles you to him, letting his cock rest inside of you as he strokes you all over, coaxing you down from your orgasm. When you come to, unfurling from the ball you'd tucked yourself into, dried streaks from a few unnoticed errant tears on your face, he starts to rock again, peppering your face with kisses. You let out a small laugh, feeling silly now that his words, those words, could make you come that quickly and that hard. But then he blindsides you with an offer you weren't expecting.

"How 'bout we find you someone to play with when Daddy's not around?"

You'd almost approached it before, the two of you dancing around the idea of there being someone else, another body, shared with you or taken separately. Joel had joked about other men fucking you, watching you suck their cocks, but you never knew if he was serious.

"How 'bout Andrew, huh? Bet you'd like his mouth here," he touches your neck, trailing two rough fingers down your torso, stopping at your breasts to tease and pinch your nipples. "And here."

His hands move lower and you close your eyes, imagining Andrew's mouth. You can practically fucking feel it - whisps of well groomed facial hair scratching at your delicate skin. Andrew had been so handsome - suave, funny, interested. You'd noticed how his eyes had been drawn to you, subtle flicks down your body, taking you in, as he tried to maintain an air of politeness, of respect for his boss and his girl. You wish he respected Joel a little less.

Joel's fingers finally meet your clit and you moan. "Here too."

"I'm- f- I'm so close again daddy," you whine, not ready for another one so soon.

"You gonna come on your daddy's cock thinkin' about Andrew filling you up?" You nod frantically, unable to hold back anything any more as your cunt pulses around his stiff length. "You are? Oh fuck, you are."

He's cuddling you again, holding you tight as he snaps his hips into yours. He's breathless when he next speaks to you, whispering filth into your ear.

"You'd look so pretty creamin' around his cock baby, just like you do for Daddy." The moan that leaves your mouth is something next to a cry, ready to sob at the idea of how good it'd feel to have Andrew touch you, to come back and tell Joel all about it, to snuggle into his arms, safe and warm and used.

You're lost in the daydream as Joel fucks you, talking you through it, pulling you deeper into the fantasy. You can't stop it any more, your entire body convulsing as you come yet again, the imagined flick of Andrew's tongue on your over sensitive clit being the thing that finally sends you flying.

"Uhh-A-Andrew."

"Fuck yeah that's it, say his name."

"Andrew, f-yes. Please, Andrew, please."

Joel tenses behind you, gripping you harder around the middle as he can't hold back, barely moving his hips at all. The thought alone had pushed him so close to the edge he's tumbling over it without warning, spurting heavily into your dripping pussy, coating your walls with his cum. "Oh fuck, shit, fuck I'm coming, ohhh fuck."

He holds you tighter for a long while, his cock throbbing and heavy inside you, breathing deeply as his thumbs gently stroke over your skin, soothing you now that your second orgasm had abated.

"Mm, I'm sorry baby. Looks like Daddy made a mess of you quicker than he expected, huh? You're just such a good girl for me." You preen at his praise. Even now you were his good girl, and you loved how wanting another man to fuck you could make him lose control so easily. It's all a dream, it's got to be.

Your vision is still blurred when he turns your head to face him, brushing his nose softly against yours. "Just love how greedy your pussy is, baby. How much you want her filled up."

"I want it, Daddy," you whine pathetically into his mouth. "Want to be filled up." By Andrew.

You didn't need to say the silent part out loud for Joel to know what you wanted. After all, if you wanted something, it was a sure fire bet that Joel Miller already wanted it too.

"I can ask him. If that's what you want," he says it softly, almost a whisper as he caresses the side of your face. His softening cock slips from you, cum gushing out with the release of pressure, flooding your thighs with a wet mix of lube and Joel's cum and your own release as you think of him again.

Him. Joel would ask him for you - the fantasy could become a reality.

"Are you... are you okay with that?" You search his eyes, trying to find any trace of uncertainty there. There's none, just burning hot fire, a need, that courses straight from him into you and back again.

"Wouldn't be offerin' if I weren't, darlin'. Besides," he grins at you. "Good girls get to go on playdates."

"Joel!"

"What?!"

"A playdate? Really?"

"Well, if you don't want it.."

You hit him, hand slapping playfully against his chest and he's suddenly rolling on top of you, growling as he scratches his beard against your neck. It tickles, and your feeble attempts to fight him off are made even weaker by the laugh bubbling in your belly.

Your face hurts from smiling and holding back laughter when he pulls back from the onslaught on your neck. He's marked you, of that you're sure, and of another thing too.

"I want it."

tag list: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights

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[toxicanonymity]

beach walks - prequel.

3.8k surf instructor!Billy x f!reader, night walks AU

WARNINGS: I8+, situationship angst over Joel, infidelity adjacent, forced proximity, smut (mild dubcon?), in public, voyeurism, jealousy. See Billy in action (sex): hot ❤️‍🔥 gif set by @ilovewhiteroses or this video. Skeleton Twins (2014) Feel free to skip this fic if it bothers you.

✨NEXT FIC: Beach Walks

After your late night “swim,” you’re disappointed when Joel doesn’t try to get you into his basement. But he does kiss you goodnight before you walk home. You almost text him and invite him over, but something holds you back. You don't want to mess up the dynamic and scare him away. Maybe he’ll let himself in and get in bed with you. It takes you a while to get to sleep as you realize something has shifted. You're now craving more than his dick and his way with words. You’d be happy to fall asleep in his arms, with or without the morning wood to look forward to.

After this realization, you start overanalyzing things, debating whether and when to text him, reading into how often he texts you and what he says. After a few days of nothing but a dick pic, it feels like it's been weeks. And yet, this was normal before. One night, you break down and send him a pic of a freshly rolled joint with the text, “wanna join?” 

He replies “wish I could, gotta be somewhere early 😫.” 

After that, he seems to text you less and less. He doesn't initiate and barely texts back. You wonder if he’s bored without the chase, so you try to play it cool. You go for walks by yourself, in case he’ll come out and join you, but weeks go by, and he never does. Some nights you hear the weights clanging in his basement, so he must be fine.  

-

One day, you're outside, locking the basement side door, when an unfamiliar Mercedes Benz SUV pulls out of Joel's cul-de-sac. There's a speed bump just before your house, so it has to slow down, and you can  clearly see a woman is driving, and Joel is in the passenger seat. Your stomach drops. He looks more put together, like he spruced himself up for her. She’s pretty. Somewhere between your age and his. 

The keys are shaking in your hand as you unlock the door again. You go back inside with your heart racing. Don't text him again, you tell yourself. Don't do it. But after an hour, you do. You ask what he's up to, and he doesn't answer. He doesn't answer all day, and when he finally answers that evening, he acts totally casual, like nothing is up. Small talk. He doesn’t invite you over. Not so much as a dick pic. You leave your door unlocked and cry yourself to sleep. You judge yourself for caring so much. 

You keep leaving your door unlocked at night, but he doesn't come. Then, one day, he drives by in the same SUV, with the same woman, and you're not sure you've ever seen him so happy. You’re lightheaded. It's a harsh reality check. You’ve never been exclusive, never had a talk. He'd never even taken you on a date. When you think about that, it makes you sick. Is his wife still in the picture? You decide not to text him again. 

You’ve been invited on a beach trip that starts the next day, but you don’t go. You don't have the energy to pack, and part of you is still hoping Joel will just show up at your door one day. But the next few nights, when you walk by his house, all the lights are off. At first, you drive yourself crazy thinking about where he could be, but does it really matter? Your anxiety starts to fade into sadness.

You’ve got to get your mind off it, so you drive solo to catch up with your friends at the beach. 

******

The resort is humble but sprawling. There are kayaks and surf lessons. You're tempted by the kayaks, but on the first day, you just relax on the beach. As soon as you lay out your towel, your friends tell you about the hot surf instructor. Then, later that day, they swear he's checking you out. You catch a glimpse from behind first, and he has a nice back. 

You see the surf instructor at breakfast the next morning, and he smiles at you. It’s a devastating smile that erases all your thoughts for a second. You can’t even look right at him. You look behind yourself, and it couldn't be anyone else he was looking at. He laughs silently, then gets in line next to you. He looks at the eggs on your plate. 

You’re not expecting his Australian accent. “Sunny side up. . .good to know.” It takes you a second, then your chest flutters when it hits you. “Enjoy,�� he adds with a wink, then walks away. He moves like he has no worries and nowhere to be.

When you tell your friends, they lose their minds. All day they’re talking about what you could do, and speculating about his dick, and whether he’s that chill in the bedroom, too. They think he’s probably a freak. A few hours later, you realize you’ve barely thought about Joel all day, for the first time in weeks, and it feels good. You begin to think maybe a vacation fling could help you move on. Assuming that’s what you’re supposed to do.

Later that day, you're in the lobby waiting for a friend when the surf instructor comes in from the beach. You play it cool, but he sees you, stops, and takes off his shades. He approaches, and you get your first really good look at him up close. He's tall, tan, and shredded, with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. He’s got small ear gauges, and a tattoo of something with tentacles winding up his neck. He's chewing gum. 

A mischievous sparkle plays on his eyes as he spreads his feet and crosses his arms. "Saw ya layin’ out, nice ‘n’ dry. . .thought I should let ya know, the real fun’s in the water." 

“Oh yeah?”

He nods. "Love to get ya on a board, if ya don't surf already." 

You laugh. "No, I don't."

He checks you out, then asks, “How ‘bout it?” and waits patiently for your yes. 

"Maybe," you crack a smile. 

"No charge. . .Name's Billy." He extends his hand. As you shake hands, he leans in closer, lowers his voice, and says, "’Lot funner gettin’ wet." As he steps away, he offers, "Come down around five, yeah?" Your tummy is swarming with butterflies as he walks off, and it must be evident. Your friend immediately assumes he asked you out.

—

You go down to the shore at five to meet Billy. Storm clouds are rolling in. Billy is looking at the sky and idly spinning a whistle on a string. He has two boards laid out. As you approach, he looks at his watch. “Punctual, aren't ya?” 

First, he teaches you how to hop up on the board, something you weren’t even sure you could do. Then he demonstrates the right stance, and you can't help but notice the way his thigh muscles swell out from his swim trunks. The teal swim trunks are a little on the shorter side, which is only emphasized by the black, long-sleeve rash guard he’s wearing. Your gaze is dangerously close to his crotch when you pull your eyes back up to his face. 

He looks at your stance, and asks, “Mind if I touch ya?”

“Please,” you answer without thinking.

He clucks his tongue and shakes his head playfully. “Knew ya were a bad girl.” 

“I mean,” your face heats up with a smile, and he raises his eyebrows. “I mean I need all the help I can get.”  He indulges you with a contemplative nod. 

“Sure, love.” He comes around to stand next to you. Thunder begins to rumble, and he glances at the sky. 

He crouches down, and one foot at a time, you let him adjust your position on the board. As he begins to stand, he looks up at you and his hand skims up the back of your calf, breaking away at the knee.

He steps a little closer and gently presses on the small of your back. “There ya go.” Then he gets behind you and leans forward, curving his body with yours. He puts his hands on your hips and pulls them back. He’s so close you can feel his body heat. His hands slide up your sides, hitching briefly on the bottom string of your swim top. Then he slots his hands under your arms and adjusts your posture. “Good girl,” he murmurs, then there's a loud boom of thunder. Rain begins to dot the sand before you feel it on your skin. “It’ll blow over,” he reassures you.

-

To wait out the storm, Billy invites you into the surf shack, up past the dunes. He leaves the door open. He doesn’t turn a light on, but there are a few windows. It’s only one room. It's got surfboards, lifeguard stuff, an old TV with a DVD/VCR combo, and a loveseat. In front of the loveseat, there’s a coffee table with a bong on it. Almost as soon as he walks in, he’s taking off his long sleeves. 

“Gets muggy in here quick,” he warns as he plops down on the loveseat. He pats the space next to him, and you sit down. “Suppose we could watch a movie,” he muses and picks up two remote controls from the coffee table. He puts on Jaws at low volume so you can still listen to the storm. He offers the bong, but you decline.

He faces you, resting his head in his hand, with his elbow on the back of the loveseat. You mirror his posture, and he shamelessly checks you out, once again. 

You make small talk about the weather and the resort. With his free hand, he idly strokes his own sternum, slowly dragging his middle finger up and down between his pecs. His nipples are pierced – the bars are so subtle you couldn’t tell through his top.  

After a lull in the conversation, you adjust your position to face the tv. He stretches his arm across the back of the loveseat, and his hand is right behind your head. He begins to lightly caress the nape of your neck with his thumb. You don’t flinch or pull away. You chew your bottom lip, and your heart races. His eyes are glued to your body, and you’re barely pretending to watch the movie. 

“So,” he asks, “Could ya feel me starin’ at your arse yesterday?”

You laugh. “No.” 

“Well, I was,” he nods. “When ya were layin’ out.”

Finally you look at him, and when your eyes meet, he begins to let his fingers slowly dance on your thigh, sending a rush of desire to your loins. 

You’re suddenly nervous. You don't remember how to do this. You half heartedly begin to say, “Maybe I should. . .”

“Come a little closer?”  A loud clap of thunder shakes the whole shack. “Nowhere for us to go now, is there?”

He glances at the window where the sky has darkened and heavy rain is coating the glass. His voice drops.  “Kinda like this storm, if I’m honest,” he admits. 

“Yeah,” you quietly agree. 

His thumb separates from the back of your neck, then your halter string tightens for a moment before completely loosening. 

“Oops,” he whispers, looking at you. 

You gasp and your hand comes to your chest to hold the top up as you turn toward him again, bringing your knee up on the cushion. Your face burns and you laugh his name in mock admonishment. 

 "Got a boyfriend?” He asks. “Girlfriend?" 

"No," you shake your head. 

"Wouldn't stop me, anyway.” His hand curves lightly around your inner thigh, stroking your warm skin. His caress gets higher and higher, further toward your throbbing core. “Not if ya want it, love. What kinda feminist would I be then?” He tilts his head and slides his hand all the way up to the crotch of your swimsuit. “Nah, what she wants, she gets,” he murmurs, staring at his hand between your legs. A knuckle nudges the crotch of your swimsuit, and you’re gushing for him. One corner of his mouth twitches knowingly as he meets your eyes again. “And I think ya want it.” God, he’s hot. He’s so hot, and so right.

The hand behind you cradles your head, and his gaze falls on your lips. His blue eyes are dark with lust. He leans in, pauses with his lips about two inches from yours. You close the gap yourself, accepting the embrace of his smooth lips on yours. Soon he tilts his head, and his tongue slides into your mouth. You drop your hand from your chest, and the un-tied strings still dangling on your back precariously hold your top up. As the kiss becomes hungrier, his hand slides easily into one side of your loosened bikini. His fingers bracket your nipple as he caresses your breast then cups with a soft, “mmm,” into your mouth. You’re absolutely throbbing. 

There's a clattering outside, then an unfamiliar voice. "We've got someone out in the surf, down toward the pier."

Your eyes fly to the door, embarrassed, but the man doesn't even look at you. You quickly re-tie your swimsuit. Billy adjusts himself and replies, “Alright mate, let's hop on the jetski.” 

“It’s ready.” The man steps outside to wait. 

When Billy stands up, you see a massive protrusion in his shorts, resting against his upper thigh, and your breath hitches. You accidentally stare, and he smirks when he notices. “Yeah?” he asks with a downward glance. He holds his hand out and you give him yours as you stand up. He puts your hand on the bulge in his shorts. It’s stiff and warm and makes you ache to be filled. “All for you, love.” He drops your hand but it stays there for a split second. 

He pulls his rashguard on and adjusts his shorts, then gives you a short but heated kiss. “Find ya later.” 

—----

When the storm dies down enough, you run up the beach, arms squeezed together in front of you. You grab a towel from the hut by the pool and enter the lobby. A man has just left the vending area, and you do a double-take when you see a bag of takis in his hand, but he's already walking away.  Your heart jumps when you see he's wearing pj pants. But it couldn't possibly be Joel. Not this far from home. 

You brush it off, but for the rest of the day, you can't get Joel out of your mind, except for when you let your thoughts drift to being in that shack with Billy. It's gotten worse than you thought if you're thinking Joel is there on the island based on a bag of chips and someone dressing comfortably on vacation. 

You let yourself imagine what it would be like to let Billy fuck you. Maybe you need this. 

You're restless and don't have any privacy to get off. After dark, you go out to the pool, and quietly slip into the water, ignoring the sign that says “closed.”.

The water is about nipple-height where you are. You face the pool and rest your arms on the side, letting your legs float in front of you. You close your eyes and squeeze your thighs together thinking about what might have happened in that shack if you weren’t interrupted earlier. And just when you’re picturing what Billy looks and sounds like when he comes, you hear his voice. 

"Pool's closed, rulebreaker."

You look toward his voice, and he puts down a bag near your towel. You ask, "Gonna tell on me?"  

He takes off his rash guard and stretches, jutting his chest and pelvis forward with his hands clasped behind his back, then he walks over and dives in the deep end. He swims underwater and comes up for air a few feet from you. When he surfaces, he tousles his hair.

He slowly approaches, wetting his lips. He looks even sexier in the dark. "Where were we, love," he murmurs. His hands start at your floating feet–he spreads them apart, making room for himself between your legs. Then his hands slide all the way up your legs as he gets closer. He pulls you against him and you loosely wrap your legs around him. 

"There ya go," he murmurs, then dips his head and cradles yours. He kisses you long and hard. He pushes his hips forward, pinning you against the pool wall, and his cock stiffens against you. Then he pulls you off the wall and holds you by the ass so his arousal is firmly pressing against your tingling front. You wrap your arms around his neck as he sinks lower into the water. He kisses and sucks your neck, just above the waterline. He’s probably leaving a mark, and you don’t care. You don’t really care about anything but the mutual throbbing between your legs at the moment.

—

You feel someone watching, and when Billy goes after your neck again, you scan the balconies until you see a dark figure sitting on a second floor balcony. You look for a few seconds and can't make out anything. You scold yourself for thinking about Joel and wrap your legs tighter around Billy. His cock swells harder against your clit, and your thoughts are gone again. You moan softly as he grinds you on himself and kisses you needily, from your lips to your neck, your throat, under your chin, back to your lips. Billy pulls your top down enough to feel your nipples against his chest and lets out a sigh that makes you ache all over with need. 

The man on the balcony stands up, steps forward, and boldly leans on the railing and clasps his hands, watching. He’s still a silhouette, and you try not to look right at him. 

"There's, um. Someone watching," you tell Billy. 

"Bother ya?" Billy asks, keeping his eyes glued to you.

You adjust your swimsuit to cover your nipples, and he says, "Guess so, huh. Drink at my place then?"

"I dunno," you say reflexively. 

He whispers in your ear, “Come home with me,” then gently bites your neck and pulls you tighter against his massive erection. You quietly gasp. 

“I can't, we’re going to sunrise yoga.”

“Yours then,” he offers, undeterred and growing breathless with desire. 

“My friends are there.” 

“Mine’s just a few minutes up the beach. I'll bring ya back,” he offers, “Go to yoga with ya.” He begins to move your body against his again. God, you want that hard cock.  Just a few days ago, the thought of anyone but Joel did nothing for you, and now, here you are. 

You bite your lip and hum, “mm,” in contemplation.

"A drink at the bar," he offers, nodding toward the hotel bar. "Then my place." 

You smile and he presses a gentle, closed-mouth kiss onto your lips. You're smiling against each other’s mouths for a second, until his cock throbs against you, and he seals his lips on yours, and your tongues need each other again. He grinds you against him for a few seconds and moans into your mouth before you pull your head away, and remind him, “Drink at the bar.” 

“Alright,” he breathes. His cock twitches against you "Gimme a minute, love. . . Fuck, I can't walk in like this," he laughs.

Footsteps approach, and you pull away from Billy. The footsteps are from a man with shoulder length hair and a mustache. He's grinning, looking down. He keeps walking, and as he passes by he laughs, "hey, I didn't see nothin', man."

Billy looks up. "Tommyyy. Wanna catch a wave tomorrow?" 

"Nah, we're rollin' out in the morning."

"Alright, mate. Good seein' ya.”

The voice of the stranger has jolted you back from your horny stupor.  "I'm actually really tired," you say, facing the side of the pool. You put your forearms up on the side and rest your cheek on  your hands. 

Billy groans in disappointment, but he gets it. 

"Maybe tomorrow night," you muse. 

"I've got a set at Aqua tomorrow. You should come."

"A set?" 

"I'm a DJ. And as for tonight. . ." He gets close behind you and murmurs near your ear. "I won’t leave ya like this. What kinda gentleman would I be?" Thank God. He snakes his arm around your front. The stiff shape in his swim trunks presses against your crack. 

He cups your whole pussy, and his middle finger prods at the fabric right at your entrance. "Gonna let me in here next time, aren’t ya?" he whispers and begins to rub you over the fabric. Pleasure is building in your core. You begin to lose yourself under his expert touch. "Yeah, there we go." He slides his other hand up under one side of your top and his bare palm covers your nipple. You could cum any second with his hardness grinding against you.

He slips his hand into your swimsuit and rubs your clit as he palms your tit. Your head falls back, he kisses your neck, then you let it happen.  You gasp and try not to be too loud as your final ascent begins, with Billy slowly rutting against your backside, breathing heavily in your ear.

—----------------

Joel doesn’t have a great view, and his eyes are tired from the sun, but he keeps watching. He’s convinced himself it’s not you, that he’s just been driving himself crazy thinking of you.

Even from a distance, it’s really hot to see. It reminds Joel of your last hook-up. Desire stirs in his pants, and he’s going to have to jack off. Maybe he’ll send you a jack-off video—he can do that now. Joel palms himself as he turns to go back inside. Then, you moan loud enough that he freezes with his hand on the sliding door. He’s heard that moan too many times.

. . .Did he just watch you, in the pool with Billy, hours from home? He tries not to look back as he goes inside and closes the door behind him.

He’s not jealous. Not jealous, he tells himself. 

He has no right to be.

You don’t owe him anything, and he knows that.

He’s fine. Not freaking out.

Joel’s a chill guy, even without the weed. But his ears are hot, and his heart is pounding so hard he can hear it. He smacks the wall and yells, “FUCK,” as a picture frame falls. He tries to shake the pain off his hand. 

What are you even doing here? 

“You alright, man?” Tommy asks, muffled through the wall. 

Joel rakes both hands through his hair and takes a few deep breaths. 

“Joel?” Tommy asks and cracks open the door between their rooms. 

“Yeah,” Joel answers as he sits down on the bed. He interlaces his fingers behind his head, elbows pointing forward. “I’m just stupid.” 

------

------

thank you for reading!

[blckbrrybasket]

𓆩 𓉸 𓆪 Kinktober 2024

• MDNI! porn with little plot

• all of these are x reader with no use of y/n

• both female and gender neutral readers featured

꒰33k+ words total꒱

1st. — “Hotter than a Burning Fire”

        -> Face sitting + Inexperience, Robin Buckley

2nd. — “Give and Take”

        -> Squirting + Edging, Steve Harrington 

3rd. — “Bite her Hip”

        -> Caught + Hate Sex, Nancy Wheeler

4th. — “Yer Killin’ Me”

        -> Boot Worship, Arthur Morgan

5th. — “Girls on Film”

        -> Being Filmed, Mickey Altieri

6th. — “Heaven in Your Mouth”

        -> Throat Fucking + Breath Play, Rafe Cameron

7th. — “Closer”

        -> Mutual Masturbation + Forbidden, Robin Buckley 

8th. — “Oh Honey”

        -> First Time + Domination, Kurt Kunkle

9th. — “Hearts a Mess”

        -> Public Sex + Gag, Art Donaldson

10th. — “Ghosting”

        -> Under the table, Javier Peña

11th. — “Burning For You”

        -> Sleepy Sex + Cockwarming, Sejanus Plinth

12th. — “She’s in Parties”

        -> High sex, Rafe Cameron

13th. — “Melting With You”

        -> Double Penetration, Stu and Mickey

14th. — “As You Are”

        -> 69, Ellie Williams

15th. — “Of Love For Love”

        -> Cream Pie + Cum Play, John ‘Soap’ MacTavish

16th. — “Maneater”

        -> Dacryphilia + Masochism, Kurt Kunkle

17th. — “What I Need”

        -> Degradation + Cum Eating, Ethan Landry

18th. — “I was made for loving you”

        -> Praise Kink + Body Worship, Steve Harrington 

19th. — “Takin’ Time”

        -> Spanking + Orgasm Denial, Joel Miller

20th. — “Sweet As Whiskey”

        -> Blood Kink + Period, Vampire!Eddie Munson

21st. — “Wind You Up”

        -> Hair Pulling + Rough Sex, Trevor (Hellraiser)

22nd. — “Eyes On Me”

        -> Bondage + Femdom, Agent Whiskey

23th. — “Show and I’ll Learn”

        -> Sex Toys, Robin Buckley

24th. — “If You Knew”

        -> Overstimulation + Wet Dream, Joel Miller

25th. — “Hell And You”

        -> Mask Kink + Knife Kink, Stu Macher

26th. — “You’ve Got Me Now”

        -> Dry Humping + Tipsy Sex, Eddie Munson

27th. — “Happy Birthday, Baby”

        -> Lingerie + On The Counter, Walter ‘Keys’ McKey

28th. — “Quit While Ahead”

        -> Pussy slapping, Rafe Cameron

29th. — “Love My Way”

        -> Scissoring, Tara Carpenter

30th. — “Suck It Up”

        -> Marking + Possessiveness, Love Quinn

31st. — “Body Electric”

        -> Cucking + Breeding Kink, Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington

taglist closed!

[milla-frenchy]

The date

5k0 | Joel Miller x fem reader ; Frankie Morales x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: you’re in an established relationship with Frankie and both of you want to spice things up. You meet a man via a dating app, Joel

Warnings: 18+ mdni. cuckolding, cucking chair, fingering, public fingering, masturbation (m), dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, oral (m/f), ball sucking, piv, rimming, anal play, creampie No age specified

a/n: @aurorawritestoescape thank you so, so much as always, for beta-ing and everything, baby 💕😘 dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

The meeting was set for 6pm at a bar in Austin.

Frankie and you had been a couple for several years, and you wanted to spice things up. The idea of watching you ​being fucked by another man was turning him on since he playfully brought up the idea while you were fucking, his cock brushing your g spot. 

Taunting you that you would probably like to take a cock other than his and how beautiful you would look, spread by another shaft. How proud of you he would be if he could watch you, knowing that even in that moment, you would still be his, maybe more than ever. The way you had come instantly on his cock had made him spill his cum deep inside you in the second that followed. 

Since then, he whispered it to you regularly, in the hollow of your ear, or with his eyes fixed on yours. Just to feel you clench on his shaft. He also said it while caressing your tear-soaked cheek, his fat cock reaching the back of your throat. 

Until he really suggested to share you with another man. You carefully looked at him, to detect the slightest trace of a joke that did not exist. He suggested it timidly, but the idea of fucking another man in front of him, the fact that he wanted to watch it, was really turning you on. You loved that your man, who could sometimes be reserved, was so sure of himself, of your relationship. He wasn’t afraid to lose you, he knew what he meant to you and that no one could take you away from him.

So you discussed it thoroughly, until finally signing up on a dating app.

You were now waiting at the bar for the man you matched with (“cuckolding, man in his 40s, dirty talk appreciated, dom vibes”).

“Good evening,” you heard while you were kissing, sitting at the table. You looked up, and there he was. Joel Miller.

You had been breathless when you looked at his pictures on the app, just as you were now, meeting  him. His gaze was deep. His brown eyes, his face were beautiful. His beard was slightly covered with gray hair. His green flannel shirt accentuated his broad shoulders. His voice was warm, drawling. Hot.

Joel shaked Frankie's hand, then he nodded and smiled at you. A smile you returned shyly. Frankie invited him to sit at your table, and the conversation flowed immediately. Joel was no stranger to that type of gathering, while it was your first time. He was single, worked in construction, and he lived in Austin too.

The purpose of the meeting in that bar was to see if there was a connection between you. If you were attracted to him, if Frankie trusted him, and if Joel wanted to go further. You sometimes looked at his neck, his forearms, his prominent veins, his hands. His thick fingers. His attitude exuded quiet strength, and self-confidence.

You had agreed online that he could touch you at the bar, if the attraction between you was there. After the three of you drank your first shot, he brushed your back with his large hand, before resting it on your lower back. His caress was light but firm, and you felt shivers run down your spine. 

His eyes landed on Frankie, to check if he was still okay with it. He nodded. Seeing you being seduced by that man was already turning him on and he was getting hard.

Joel placed his hand on your bare knee, your skirt hiked up your thighs, just after Frankie said something funny that made you laugh.

“I love that little laugh, it’s really cute. It’s one of the things that is gonna get you fucked tonight. That and these hips that are just begging to be grabbed, sweetheart.”

You held your breath when you heard him. Your panties were soaked even though he had barely touched you.

His hand slipped between your thighs, and glided to your panties which he delicately pushed aside. His middle finger ran over your wet folds and you couldn’t stop a moan from escaping your lips.

“Quiet. Don’t want a sound here, keep your moans for the bedroom,” he said firmly as his middle finger found its way between your walls. Your pussy clenched on his finger as you squirmed on your stool, and he smirked.

“Curling your toes already? Oh, sweetheart… you’re never gonna forget this night.”

He brushed your folds one last time and removed his finger, leaving you panting. You looked at Frankie, surprised by the effect the man already had on you. Frankie was just as astonished as you, but you could see how much he enjoyed it. His eyes were sparkling and he adjusted himself.

Joel didn’t touch you anymore for the rest of the time you spent at the bar. Frankie and him talked like old friends, and all you could hear was your pussy squealing with excitement. 

When Joel was looking at you, you felt yourself losing your composure. If he saw it, he didn't show it, until a little smirk proved to you that he just didn't want to make you uncomfortable, which you appreciated.

You couldn’t wait for the three of you to leave, but you didn’t want to seem too greedy - as if you hadn’t already spread your legs and moaned for him.

An hour later, you finally left the bar. Frankie and you in your car, Joel following in his. You had decided that it would happen in your house. You didn't want to be in a cold, unfamiliar place.

As soon as you entered, Joel wasted no time.

“Let’s check on the rules. Frankie, if you tell me to stop, I’ll stop, no questions asked.” Then he turned to you “what’s your safe word, sweetheart?”

“I’ll use “red” if I want you to stop. “Orange”, if I want you to slow down.”

“Okay. If you use either of those words, depending on the color I’ll stop, or slow down, no questions asked. I want you to know that you have to use them if you don’t feel comfortable. Are we clear?”

“Yes, all clear.” His expression was serious and solemn, and it reassured you, even though Frankie was going to be there the whole time.

“If you don't use them, I'll consider that you're ok with what I'm doing. Do you agree?”

You nodded. 

“I need to hear it out loud.”

“Yes, I agree.”

He turned to Frankie.

“Yeah, ok with that.”

Joel looked at you again, and added “and if your mouth's full, tap on my thigh twice.”

You felt heat on your cheeks hearing the implication of his words, and said “Ok, I'll tap on your thigh twice. What… What do I call you?”

“Well, my name’s Joel, and I’m fine with that,” he answered with a cute smile.

You took a deep breath and then added “Ok, follow me to the bedroom then, Joel.”

An armchair was set up near the bed, and Frankie sat down in it, as planned. You had also agreed that he would barely intervene, so as not to influence what would happen.

Joel rolled up his shirt sleeves. His charm and aura were devastating.

You felt intimidated, being in your room with the two men. With your boyfriend, sitting in that chair, facing the man who was going to fuck you soon.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Joel asked in a calm voice.

“Yeah…yes, I’m ready.”

He moved closer to you and grabbed your waist. His mustache ran along the warm skin of your ear, your cheek, your neck. Then he placed his lips on yours, kissing you lightly. Testing the way you would respond. Your lips pressed against his, and he held you closer to him, one arm around your waist. His tongue caressed your lips softly, gently and you parted them, freeing your tongue to meet his and creating a sensual dance. His lips were warm and your mind was lost for a few moments, as you kissed a man other than Frankie for the first time in several years. His hands roamed your body, one brushing your back covered with your top, the other squeezing your waist against him, against his cock that you felt hardening. You moaned, feeling the moisture flow between your walls, your lips still against his, your tongue in his mouth, until you pulled away slightly to catch your breath, your bodies remaining pressed against each other.

“Show me how wet you are, feeling my cock against you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, before you caught yourself. That’s what you were here for. To have sex with someone else, a stranger, who would probably act differently than Frankie. You wanted someone confident. And that’s exactly the type of man you were facing. He wasn't aggressive, he knew how to make you feel confident. He was perfect so far.

You pulled away from him a little more, just to slide your hand under the hem of your skirt and panties. You slid your fingers along your folds and then pushed two of them into your pussy, to coat them with your wetness. You pulled your trembling hand out, holding it up near your face. Your digits were shiny. Joel gripped your wrist softly and brought it close to his mouth, and took your fingers between his lips. He licked your wetness, his eyes fixed on you. It was so hot and sensual that another flow soaked your panties. 

He released your wrist, once your skin no longer bore the trace of your arousal, and he unbuttoned his shirt before placing it on the dresser in your room. He then removed his t-shirt, taking his time. Aware of your gaze fixed on him, and of each new inch of skin he was offering you.

“You're dripping since the time I fingered you at the bar in front of your man, aren't you?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Now… You wanna be a good girl for me?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“On your knees, then.”

You didn't wait any longer, you couldn't wait to see his cock, to take him in your mouth, to taste him. You kneeled in front of him, then looked at Frankie. Joel lifted your chin while he unzipped, wanting your eyes on him only.

“I wanna see how pretty you look with your lips around my cock, baby”, he said, brushing your chin with his thumb. He released it to grab his cock resting in his jeans. 

You knew he was big, thanks to the pictures he sent you at your request. But you didn’t expect him to be that big. So thick and long. You had never seen a cock as big as Frankie’s. Joel’s seemed slightly shorter, but a little thicker. Your thoughts drifted, wondering how it would feel if they both fucked you at the same time. Joel’s voice interrupted your train of thought.

“Focus on me, and open up. Wide, or it ain't gonna fit, baby.”

You opened your mouth, parting your lips. He wanted to be in charge and you willingly let him lead. He pressed his tip to your lips then said “tongue.”

You darted it out, and he rested his cock on it. His thickness felt heavy. Then he placed his hand on the back of your head, keeping his shaft in the other one, before sliding it between your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Frankie grab his bulge, then unzip his jeans, and finally pull his cock out.

“Eyes on me when I fuck your mouth, baby. Your man’s gonna jerk off soon, and you’ll hear his wrist fuck his shaft. You can listen to it, but your eyes stay on me, clear?”

You nodded as he thrust deeper between your lips, and you moaned.

“I know baby, I know. You're gonna be a good girl, and you’re gonna let me fuck that hole. And then, I’ll fuck the next one.”

You heard Frankie mumble “fuck,” and Joel thrust his length into your mouth. He used your mouth like he promised you, like a fuck hole. He wasn't aggressive, just in charge, self-confident. He knew how to deal with you, and it was turning you on.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Sucking this big cock? I can see that your man has a thick dick too. You like sucking his dick as much as you enjoy sucking mine, sweetheart?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. He didn’t want, or didn’t need to. Instead, he squeezed your throat in his large palm, feeling his shaft slide into it.

“You take it so good, baby. I can’t wait to see how your pussy takes me.”

He held your head with both hands as his cock was buried deep in your throat, and told you “don’t move. Stay like that. Just take it.”

You tried to pull back but he held you down, saying in a calm voice “breathe through your nose, sweetheart. You can do it.” He loosened his grip slightly, long enough to feel your throat adjust to his cock, then added, “yeah, just like that. You’re doing great.”

He released you, letting you take control for a few seconds. The accumulated saliva flowed down to your chin. 

Then he fucked your mouth, alternating rhythms. Taking advantage of the warmth of your mouth for a long time, all the way to your throat, then fucking your mouth quickly. Sometimes making his length weigh on your tongue. Your jaw was sore, but you didn't want it to stop, intoxicated by the taste of his precum, by the width of his cock. Never ceasing to imagine how he was going to fuck you.

Sometimes, when you weren’t completely focused on Joel, you could hear Frankie jerking off, and mumbling “fuck” or “you’re so hot, baby” a few times. 

Your pussy was clenching regularly, eager to be filled. But Joel was taking his time.

“Lick my balls now. Let’s see if you’re as good at that as you’re at sucking my cock.”

He was so good at praising you that you felt like you would agree to anything he would ask you.

He held his shaft in his hand, and brushed his balls soaked with your saliva with the other. They were weighty, thick and fell heavily when he released them. Looking up at him, you licked one ball then the other, before taking each one of them in your mouth. Sucking, licking their thin, delicate skin. Releasing them with a “pop”. He growled, enjoying your tongue and lips on his balls full of cum.

“Ok, that’s it, sweetheart. Take off your clothes, now. Lemme see how pretty you are.” 

He removed his jeans and boxers, while you took off your blouse and skirt, standing shyly in front of him. “You’re beautiful, baby. Frankie's a lucky guy.” 

He approached you, unhooking your bra, his chest pressed against yours, his nose brushing your hair and breathing in their scent. Then he knelt down, sliding your panties down your legs. His eyes fell on your pussy as he removed that last piece of clothing from your feet. “Oh damn, they’re soaked… poor baby. You need it bad, huh?” Once again, he didn’t wait for your answer and asked Frankie: “wanna jerk in it? Bet it’d turn you on even more”, he added before throwing them at your boyfriend.

Frankie smelled your panties and wrapped them around his shaft. You knew how much he loved your taste, sliding his tongue into your pussy and eating it longly, but his gesture made you moan.

Joel told you to lie down on the bed, and said to Frankie as if you weren’t even there, “she’s a fucking natural. I love when they're a little shy. Knowing that they’ll lose control at some point. Being half ashamed, half cock dumb.”

You heard Frankie take a deep breath hearing him, echoing your own. Joel was a menace, in the best way. He was a combination of confidence, charm, and undeniable charisma. He had a natural dominance and he knew it, was playing with it. You realized that you were still lost in your thoughts, despite lying in front of him, offered. You met his amused gaze, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“I wonder when you'll lose control, baby. ‘cause you can be sure of it. Sooner or later, you’ll lose it.”

He knelt between your legs, grabbing his cock with one hand and spreading your folds with the other.

“Damn, look at that… Could you be any wetter?” He brushed your clit with his thumb for a few seconds. He seemed to be thinking about something, as you felt your pleasure rise again.

“I should eat ya. To make it easier for you. But I’d really love to feel you squeeze my cock right now. You’re okay with that?”

You looked at him and swallowed before nodding. Yeah, you wanted to feel him spread your walls.

“Wait,” you said as he nestled in your entrance. “I don't wanna use the safe word, just… show me. Show me your cock one last time, before you thrust in me.”

He took it in his hand. He was proud of his cock, you could feel it, and he was right. You looked at his red, oozing tip. Covered in precum and your saliva. Its thickness made your heart rate increase and salivate at the same time.

“Ok… fuck me, Joel.”

Still kneeling, he smiled and grabbed your hip with one hand, and lightly pushed his tip in your pussy. Then he paused and looked at your body. Your hard nipples, your heaving stomach, waiting for more. Your chest, rising quickly. Your fists clenching the sheets.

You looked at Frankie, who was leaning forward on the chair. He had let go of his cock, hard as steel. You saw his tip glistening with precum. Your panties balled up in his clenched fist.

Then you looked at Joel again. From his curls, to his broad chest, his lower abdomen. You couldn’t see any lower anymore. He pushed in, feeling your walls painfully spread for him.

“Fuck… fuck! you're big…”

“I know, sweetheart. But you can take it,” he added, continuing to push gently. “Fuck baby, that’s it. Let me in your small, tight cunt.”

You had never felt so open before, the sensation was suffocating. A mixture of pleasure flirting with a little pain.

“I know baby, I know. You're gonna feel so good, soon. Just a little bit more…fuck!”

He was breathing harder too, as if he was holding himself back from coming, already. He spat on your clit, before letting go of one of your hips to brush your most sensitive place, trying to make this easier for you. Your moans were the only sound in the room, as Joel continued to thrust slowly, and Frankie was now sitting on the edge of his chair, leaning forward. Finally, Joel’s balls rubbed against your skin, and he stopped, buried all the way into your core.

“You’re fucking gorgeous like that, all spread out for me.” He was still breathing heavily, trying to control his cum that only wanted to spur against your walls.

You looked at him, panting too. You couldn't take your eyes off him, while he was still kneeling between your thighs, totally offered to him. He was magnificent and his gaze couldn't detach itself from you either.

He held your legs wide open, his hands placed on your hips, as he slowly pulled back from your channel, keeping only the tip inside you, before pushing back in. His breathing wasn’t calming down.

“Fuck… you’re so fuckin’ tight. I gotta… gotta eat ya. Don’t wanna shoot my load yet.”

He pulled out totally and lay down, leaving you empty, a plaintive moan escaping your lips. His arms wrapped around each of your thighs, gripping them with his hands before diving shoulders forward. He didn’t pause, didn’t seek to kiss your lower stomach. His tongue snaked out, tracing a line up and down, just above your ass to your clit and you let out a whimper.

“I’d wanted you to come, crying my name, since I fingered you at the bar.”

“Fuck,” you murmured. 

He started licking you again, never taking his eyes off you. His piercing gaze fixed on you just above your sweaty, throbbing stomach. His tongue delved between your folds, deeply, seeking to drink all your flowing desire. He licked, sucked, patiently, your wetness that flowed continuously. You looked at Frankie quickly. He had moved back to the back of the seat, hands placed on the armrests, gripping them tightly. You assumed he didn't want to come right away either. He nodded when your eyes met, a silent way of telling you to enjoy the moment. Repeating, without any words needed, that he was ok with all of it. Yet he couldn't help but intervene, and a part of you was afraid he wanted to stop all of it, but he quickly reassured you.

“Fuck, baby… you know how much I love to eat you. And watching you, while another man is eating your beautiful little pussy... it turns me on so much, you have no idea.”

You moaned when you heard him. You loved him so much. 

He started to jerk off again.

“You gonna come in his mouth, baby? You gonna come in another man’s mouth?”

He jerked off harder, and you nodded slowly.

At the same time Joel's tongue left your core to lick your folds, flat, slowly, repeating the motion several times, brushing your clit. The touch was driving you crazy, and you tried to lift your hips to feel him more where you desperately needed it, but he held you firmly against the bed.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he smirked. So you stopped lifting your hips as long as you were able to, until your movement resumed unconsciously. And finally, his tongue focused on your clit, swirling over it. It was tense, out of its skin, just waiting to explode under his tongue.

“I need to stretch you more.. Cunt’s too tight, don’t wanna come too soon.”

He pushed one, then two fingers into your pussy, your walls squeezing them instantly.

“Mmmm… you like that, uh? Want you to come for me. I need to stick my dick in your cunt again.”

"Come, baby," Frankie said in a low voice. “Fill his mouth. Give it to him.”

Their praise was the last thing you needed to come, chanting “Joel, Joel…” your back arching violently as your clit pulsed under Joel’s tongue and your pussy on his fingers.

You heard Frankie moan louder, then saying “oh… oh. Fuck, fuck, baby!” just before coming, white pearls coating his thighs and fist.

Joel’s tongue stayed pressed against your clit until your shaking stopped, and you released your grip on his head.

“Damn, sweetheart… I love the way you moan for me. Your man loves it too,” Joel added as he straightened up, wiping your wetness from his mouth and chin with the back of his hand.

“That was so fuckin’ hot, baby,” Frankie said, making you smile, while your eyes were still closed and your breathing was slowing down.

Joel crawled up and lay between your thighs, his knees spreading them apart. He nestled his tip at your entrance and pushed himself in slowly, all the way in, in one thrust. More easily this time. His tongue sought yours as one of his large hands cupped your cheek. “Takin’ me so good,” he breathed between your lips before kissing you again.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and the feeling felt so familiar and yet so new. You loved feeling another cock inside you, you loved kissing someone else. You loved having your man watching you. And oddly enough, even though you wanted Joel to fuck you for as long as possible, you couldn't wait to feel Frankie's cock again.

Joel rubbed his lower stomach against you, exactly where you needed it. You wanted to come again, as he wanted it too. Brushing your clit with each thrust, his lips left your mouth to kiss your neck and then nibble on your earlobe.

“Joel…” you whined, accompanying his movement by pressing you more against him.

“Yeah. You're gonna come again for me, sweetheart? Gonna come on my cock?”

“Yeah, I… fuck, it's coming. Don't stop. Don't stop please…”

“I won't, want you to squeeze my shaft. It’s so hot to feel you rub against me to get off.”

“I… Joel… I'm gonna… I'm gonna come.”

His lower stomach brushed against you again and the orgasm took hold of you, your nails digging into his shoulders as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Your body was shaking even harder than the first time, and you clung desperately to him.

“Fuck, Frankie.... She’s coming so fucking hard around my cock.”

“Damn, baby…”

Your shivering didn't stop, and your pussy was contracting continuously.

“It's ok sweetheart, I got you. Keep comin’ for me.”

Your head leaned back on your pillow, as your fluttering stomach and limbs were still trembling slightly.

“Shit… You're fucking beautiful baby. Can't control anything, right? I got ya… I got ya.”

He held you tight against him, still thrusting, brushing against you with the same slow rhythm until he felt your muscles relax beneath him. He placed a hand on your cheek, his piercing gaze trying to catch yours. Until the ceiling stopped swaying, the room stopped spinning, and your eyes finally met his. You felt the heat reach your cheeks, realizing that the orgasm you just felt was one of the strongest you had ever experienced.

“That's it, I’m so proud of you. You're doing so good, sweetheart.”

He kissed your forehead, softly, tenderly, then he added “Now… I wanna hear how wet that pussy is. All fours, baby.”

You settled onto your knees and hands, still a little shaky, and as his hands settled on your hips, you didn't expect to feel his tongue run along your ass and linger on your ring, making you moan and stick your ass out.

He knelt and grabbed your hips, then said “fuck, you like it? I won’t fuck your ass tonight, I need you to dry my balls or I’m gonna explode. But another time, maybe.”

He didn’t wait for your answer and thrusted in one go, gripping your hips, leaving you breathless.

“Told ya your hips were just begging to be grabbed,” he said, before pulling back suddenly, leaving just his tip in your pussy and thrusting again roughly.

You bit your lip as you heard him, your body rocking back and forth as it could only follow the movement of his hips as they slapped against your ass. You could vaguely hear Frankie jerking off.

“Tell your man who’s fucking you. Whose cock’s in your cunt?”

“I… you… fuck… can’t…”

“Mmm sorry, what was that? I can barely hear you over all your moans, sweetheart…” he said, teasing you, but slowing down his pace so you could answer.

“Yours, Joel, fuck… Your cock is in my cunt. You're the one fucking me.”

“You’re doing so good. Keep taking it, just like that.” You didn't really have a choice, except to use your safe word and that was out of the question even if you were practically breathless. He was fucking you too good, filling you up perfectly.

His hands still tight on your hips, he was thrusting deep and hard, making you bend your elbows and bite the pillow. His thumb brushed your ring then he pushed in lightly.

“Gonna come… Gonna fill you up. Deep in your cunt.”

He thrust in, two, three more times, then his fingers squeezed the flesh of your hips as he pushed in as far as he could, his balls against your ass and you felt his cock twitch, just before his cum spurt out, covering your walls. His grunts made you smile, it was the only energy you still had.

He pulled out laying down next to you, and Frankie immediately took his turn between your thighs, spreading them wide, your bodies right next to Joel who was watching you, lying on his side.

Frankie buried himself in your dripping, sore cunt, hands on your waist, already thrusting all his length in, licking, sucking one of your nipples. He couldn't even talk, overwhelmed by the night, by your vision that couldn't leave his mind. He knew he would love to share you, but didn't know it would move him, turn him on, that much. He wanted to fill you now, not in a possessive way, but he needed to feel you around him, needed to feel your cunt filled by another man's seed. If he hadn't been in such a need to fuck you, he would have licked your sore pussy, cleaning it of someone else's cum. He told himself that maybe there would be a next time, and maybe another opportunity to do it. The thought made him even harder.

Your arms around him, you were kissing his cheek, his neck, his lips, holding him tight between your thighs. Proving him you were his, always, and it was making his head spin.

He asked Joel to kiss you, and he loved to hear you moan as you two were making out just below him. He knew he wouldn't last, he didn't want to. He knew you were spent, too. So he just thrust in, thinking about you blowing Joel. 

About Joel's head between your thighs. Frankie's favorite place in the world. About Joel's dick pushing your walls, slipping in your tight cunt.

He was surrounded by his love for you, by how good you felt around his cock. He shot spurs of cum quickly, adding it to Joel’s, and the thought made him moan one last time. 

He sighed contentedly when your pussy stopped milking his cock. He seemed as exhausted as you and Joel were, and you fell asleep without even realizing it.

When you woke up the next morning, Joel had left a note on the nightstand. “Any time.”

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[covetyou]

liquid courage

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist part one ⋆ part two ⋆ part three

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader, m!OC x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: creampie, comeplay, come eating, cucking, unprotected PiV, almost premature ejaculation, oral sex (m! receiving), fingering, anxiety (reader feels uncertain and confused briefly between dicking sessions), sex related home improvements, one ass slap, a brief wedgie word count: 4.9k summary: You thought it was all you wanted, until it wasn't, and then it was again. Why couldn't this just be easy?

A/N: despite the title, there's no alcohol, and there's also no watersports. it's just a hell of a lot of cum. get that cum courage, lads. you deserve it. follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

"Do you think you can come again?"

You don't know what possessed you to do it, but with time ticking down you're pulling him back toward you and palming his spent cock over his boxers.

There's a thrill to it that wasn't quite there before. Hours tangled together in a hazy mess of limbs and tongues and bodily fluids, and suddenly you want him, need him, one last time. The last hour of him cuddling you in cum soaked panties wasn't enough any more.

He looks like he's going to turn you down, but the incessant rub of your hand over his cock and the soft squeeze of your fingers on his balls quickly brings him back to life. One glance down at his phone, the time blaring 5:27pm on the screen, and he tosses it to the side, dipping down to kiss you and mumbling into your mouth.

"Fuck it."

You'd been all over each other the second he stepped through the door. Dragging him upstairs there had been no hesitation, no reservations, about fucking another man's girlfriend in his bed. Not this time. Even when you told him to fuck you bare he'd leapt at the chance, pulling himself into you and fucking you hard into the mattress.

From the moment he pushed into you, he was trying not to come. You were warm, and soft, and beautiful. Your cunt pulled him in so gloriously and the noises you made for him as he slid home, burrowed so deep inside you he could swear he could see heaven, were intoxicating.

Even more than that, you weren't his. You were his bosses, and that thought alone, the forbiddeness of it all, pulled a thread of want straight from his brain down to his cock. Here you were, one of the most important people to a man much more powerful than him and here he was, fucking into you with abandon, trying to hold off filling you with his cum.

"Tell me you want it. Please tell me you want it," he begged you. Begged you. And who were you not to oblige - you likely wanted it even more than he did.

So you'd begged him to come in you too - not in the sweet, soft, needy way you did with Joel, but in a new, different way, a way just for him. He'd been unable and unwilling to control himself longer than a few more thrusts before spilling inside of you, coating your insides with his cum, a feeling that you relished as you felt the warm wet spread of it seep inside you. You followed soon after him, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles over the oversensitive flesh until you were pulsing around his cock as it twitched inside you.

Then, after you finally said your hellos, having missed them at the door in your desperation, laughing at how insatiable you both were as you talked, you went again. This time he claimed your mouth. You cleaned yourself off of him, mapping out each ridge and vein with your tongue as you went, until there was a telltale tightness in his balls, his eyebrows pinching together, and then he spurted over your tongue and down your throat as you swallowed down each salty burst of his cum.

He'd helped you put your panties back on when you told him how much you wanted to be covered and filled with him. He'd helped to rub it in too, making you come as his fingers played with your pussy over the damp fabric. And then he'd fucked you again for good measure, pulling the crotch of your panties to the side and slipping into your swollen hole one last time to fill you with the remnants of what his balls could produce, before settling beside you, curling you into his side and dozing with you as you kissed and touched and explored each other in much gentler ways.

That had been enough, you thought. But now it wasn't, and with his hardened cock back in your hand and thoughts of nothing but Joel making his way home, you tell him exactly what you want.

"Want you to come on me. Want him to find me covered in you."

Moving up your body, his knees sit either side of your waist as you look up at him with wide eyes. His tip is flushed an angry red and you know at this point it must be so sensitive it's bordering on painful. You tell him you'll kiss it better another day as you squeeze your breasts, massaging them in your hands, trying to make them look like the most enticing place in the world for him to paint with his cum.

"Please come on me."

He fists his cock, staring at your fingers as they play with your nipples, darting to your face to watch as your tongue slips out to wet your lips. Gripping his thighs, you drag your nails down his soft skin, and he shudders, his grip on his cock tightening as his hips start to rock into his hand, fucking his fist as you dig your nails into him.

"Fff- I'm gonna come. Gonna come."

"Please-"

It's quicker than you expected. He's coming, thin spurts of white shooting from his tip while he stares down at you, watching you intently as his hand pumps. Cum spatters across your breasts, your ribs. You wipe up a spot with your finger, slipping it into your mouth as Andrew wipes the last trickle of cum from his slit across your belly. With no time to waste, he crowds over you, kissing you deeply, holding your face in his hands, trying to keep as much of his weight off of you with his shaking legs as he can.

"Hate to leave you like this, but I told him I -"

"Mm, it's okay. Go," you say with a smile, capturing him in endless kisses as he climbs off of you and dresses in haste, glimpsing the time as he tucks his phone into his pocket. 5:38pm, Joel's due any minute.

One last kiss and he's gone, and you fall back onto the bed to the sound of footsteps retreating down the stairs. Eyes closed, you drag your fingers across your chest, effortlessly gliding across the spattering of cum that covers your tits. You feel drunk. High off his cock, his cum, and his kisses. You couldn't have imagined this a few weeks ago, and now here you were, all your dreams coming true right where they always did - in Joel's bed.

In Joel's bed.

Uncertainty washes over you, just a trickle at first, but it soon settles low in your belly. You'd discussed it with Joel and with Andrew. All of it, all of this. You all knew where you stood, what this was, but now, alone in the aftermath of it all, doubt is seeping in.

In reality, there wasn't much different between this time and the last, but before where the only evidence of your time with Andrew was the smile on your face, this time you were wearing it.

The slam of a car door rouses you from the beginnings of panic. You know it's him by the crunch of his work boots on the gravel getting closer to the house before the hollow stomp of his tired feet climbing up the steps onto the front porch.

You're pulling yourself out of bed on unsteady legs before the thought even fully forms, ignoring the woosh in your ears when blood rushes to your head. A splash of water on your face will do. Maybe washing your hands, or wiping the cum from your chest.

But Joel is taking the stairs two at a time in his eagerness to see you after a long day at work. You just about make it to the bathroom door when he pushes into the bedroom, panting before his breath catches at the sight of you.

Stood there in soaked panties, chest heaving and eyes wide with uncertainty, you smile weakly at him, swallowing the lump in your throat. Your hair must be a mess, the remains of mascara smudged around your eyes, lips swollen and sticky from so many kisses and the lip balm you smeared on hours ago.

"Well fuck baby, he made a mess of you. You make a mess of him?" he says with a smile that only makes the lump in your throat feel drier. Dark eyes drag down your body and settle on the visibly damp patch spreading across your panties. A shrug of your shoulders is all you can muster, not trusting your voice not to waiver as you back into the bathroom with him on your heels.

All it takes is for your eyes to briefly catch his in the bathroom mirror before he's pulling you around to face him, spotting the splatters all over your torso.

His breath comes in shaky as he gently touches your chest, still sticky with Andrew's cum.

"Did he...?" he swallows thickly as he talks, eyes transfixed on your breasts as your lungs expand with another deep breath. You can feel the panic fizzling at your edges. This is all so new, you can't tell if Joel is okay or not, and the way he's staring at you with his eyes dark and blown isn't helping.

You nod, feeling meek where before you'd felt on top of the world. He'd never done anything like it, or even suggested he would, but you're half expecting him to turn and leave you standing in the bathroom alone. Big as he was, Joel was gentle, and the thing you feared most in the world was disappointing him or upsetting him. Suddenly, this felt like something that could do exactly that.

You flick the tap on as you turn back around, unable to keep his gaze now, but his strong arm darts around you and shuts it off just as quick, pushing you against the bathroom counter.

He looks so big behind you in the mirror, staring right at you.

"Inside too?"

"Yes, Daddy," you say softly, pushing down the panic. There's nothing you can do now, what's done is done. If he doesn't like it, you'll talk about it later when you're not still covered in another man's cum.

But Joel quickly puts a stop to all those thoughts when he grinds his cock into your ass. Eyes that were cast down uncomfortably before shoot up to find his, the look of shock unmistakable on your face. He's hard already, likely was the whole drive home judging by the heat of his crotch burning into your backside.

You don't know how you didn't see it, maybe your brain was too clouded by your own thoughts to see what was right in front of you, but his eyes, dark and blown as they are, contain a fire that you've never seen before. It burns brightly, licking at you and warming you through as he drags his gaze back down to your chest.

"Those the only places he came?"

"Mouth too."

And Joel groans behind you, the deep grumble sounding loud in your ear as he nuzzles your hair, rubbing his clothed cock against your ass. You swear you can feel his knees briefly buckle, but he masks it but grinding the swell of his cock into you some more.

"You... You like it?"

"I do, baby," he says, reassuring you, and although you're already wet and dripping from Andrew's come leaking out of you, you can feel your own arousal start to soak your panties again too.

Chest heaving, he breathes you in once more before stroking his broad hands down your arms, wrapping them around you. Tentatively, he trails a hand up your body to your chest, skipping over the drops of cum splattered and dried on your belly and going straight to your breasts. He lightly touches the sticky trails with his rough fingertips.

"He rub it in?"

"I did," you say with a shake of your head. You lift your hand a fraction, to show him your fingers. Fingers that you were about to rinse in the sink. Joel's large hand immediately captures your wrist, pulling it up so he can see the faint wetness on your fingers. His breath catches in his throat for just a moment, until he's moving your hand again, this time closer to his mouth.

It's your turn to gasp, and his eyes lock with yours just as your fingers touch to his lips. He takes in a deep breath, smelling the cum on you, before sliding them past his lips and into his mouth.

You both groan simultaneously, and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you. Joel smiles from around your fingers as he swirls around his tongue, cleaning Andrew's cum from your digits. When he releases, he licks a broad stripe up your hand, tasting the salt of your palm and the bitter salt of Andrew's cum.

"Joel, I -"

He cuts you off as you let out a yelp, his hands pulling your panties up with a tug, wedging the fabric lightly between your ass cheeks. He always did this, loving how the fabric framed your ass and exposed you to him, loving even more how any cum that trickled out of you would soak the fabric. He squeezed and kneads at you before hugging you close to him again, cock rocking more steadily into you now.

"He tastes good on you, baby," he whispers, and you've never been more grateful for his arms holding you up as your own knees try to buckle beneath you. "You like how he tastes?"

Nodding your head, you turn to breathe him in, his scent musky and woodsy after a long day at work, the familiarity of it all comforting you just as much as his arms wrapped around you.

"Bet those panties are a mess right now, huh?"

"They're such a mess, Daddy," you say, biting back a smile now as you watch the man behind you go wild with desire over the mess he's found you in.

He taps your ass and pings your panties against your skin. "Bend over a little so Daddy can see how messy you got, baby."

The joy spills out of you as you hinge over the sink, any thought of washing the cum from your body long gone, and Joel sinks to his knees behind you. All you can see in the mirror is the greying mop of hair on his head as he peels your panties from you, tugging them back down from where he had them pulled high and down below your ass.

"He sure did make you sticky," he murmurs to himself as his thumbs pull you apart, looking straight at your used pussy and the state Andrew had left you in.

Your hole flutters at his words, words you know to be true from the sticky peel of your thighs beneath his thumbs. There's a small gush of liquid, and you feel it dribble out of you and trickle over your clit under his gaze. He stiffens behind you, hands digging into the meat of your thighs and ass as he watches the trail of Andrew's cum.

"Shit," he whispers, hands kneading at you as he tries to steady himself. If his hard cock pressing into you moments ago was anything to go by, he was struggling to contain himself. As if to prove you right, his head shakes behind you soon after, and he's pulling himself up off clicking knees.

"Fuck, sorry, baby," Joel says, fumbling with his pants as you glance at him in the mirror. His belt rattles as he unbuckles it, frantically tugging open his jeans to pull out his cock, eyes focussed on your dripping slit. "Can't wait, I gotta - gotta -"

Cock in hand, he slides into you with a deep sigh, stretching you back open, the cum dripping from you guiding him in with ease. He slowly pumps his hips, arms wrapped tightly around you as he does, breathing in your hair that still smells like sweat and sex and Andrew.

"Oh, shit," he gasps, breathing as if he's just run for miles, before quickly pulling out. His cock throbs as it rests against your ass cheek and you watch him squeeze his eyes shut, desperate not to come so soon. Disbelief and adoration flood your veins as you watch him fight back control, his cock rutting against your bare, dripping pussy before slowly sliding back in. This time you wiggle back into him, moaning at the stretch even as he tries to hold you still.

"Careful," he warns, looking at you in the mirror, your lips parted as small moans fall out of you from Joel's shallow thrusts. Pulling out again, he takes a deep breath before pushing back in, fucking you in deep, broad strokes that feel torturously slow. All you want is for him to take you right here on the bathroom counter, to reclaim every part of you that Andrew covered in cum.

Before he can next pull from you, you clench around him, your pussy gripping him so tightly it has him moaning and pulling back, fingers digging into your hips as he struggles not to twitch and unload deep inside you.

"Please," you groan as his cock slips from you, falling heavy between your legs as he shoots you a warning look and lightly swats your ass.

"Baby," he warns. "Won't get Daddy's cock at all if you act like that."

You bite your cheek to stop yourself from smiling - you both know it's not true, you both know he'd never deny you anything, least of all his cock.

Littering your shoulders with kisses, his hips buck, sliding his cock between your thighs and dragging across your soaked pussy lips and swollen clit.

"Feelin' too good for me, baby, just give me a minute."

It does feel good, too good, and you can't take it. Your head is buzzing with excitement, too thrilled with thoughts of Daddy's home and look at the beautiful mess I made and please fuck me, Daddy that you can't wait any longer. So, much to his surprise, you push him until his back hits the wall with a thud, cock hanging between his thighs, dripping precum onto the cold tile.

You follow it down, sinking to your knees in front of him, frowning and pouting at the idea of a single drop being wasted. Even with your legs strapped together with the elastic of your panties below your ass, you spread your legs, letting him see the wetness between them where it glistens on your upper thighs. His cock is glistening to match, and you salivate at the idea of tasting him, tasting Andrew, tasting you on it.

"Please, Daddy?" You ask from your knees, looking up at him so sweetly his teeth feel like they could crumble in his mouth. He nods down at you, letting out a small shaky breath again as his cock twitches in front of you, bouncing as he flexes his stomach muscles.

"Go on, baby. Clean up, Daddy. You made me all messy too."

Making the first of many kitten licks over his length, he relaxes back into the wall, scrubbing a hand over his face. He's sticky with you and Andrew, and rock solid from it too. You trace the streaks of wetness up and down his length with the flat of your tongue, avoiding his head where it leaks his own arousal. As many times as you'd licked your own slick and Joel's cum from his cock, you'd never tasted another man's cum from it before, and the thought alone sends a bolt of want straight through you. With your pussy empty and wanting, all you can do is rock your hips and whine as you lick further down Joel's cock to his balls.

You suckle one into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the flesh. Joel groans above you, his head falling back to hit into the wall with a thud as the visual of you sucking his balls is too much for him to bear.

"That's it, lick 'em. Fuck. Good girl."

You clean your mess off of him, licking up every speck of wetness and every trace of Andrew's cum from his balls, giggling every time they twitch and draw tighter against him before relaxing. If the slow fuck of his cock into you felt torturous for you before, you can't imagine how this feels for him, having to fight off coming with every press of your lips to his balls.

Slowly, his hands relax from his sides, moving to grip the side of your face instead as you work over him. Not once have you taken him in your mouth, or even tried to, but now as he looks down at you with so much desire and affection you could melt into the ground, you pull back from his balls, sticking your tongue out as you look up at him.

"You gonna be a good girl for Daddy?"

You always were. "Uh-huh," you say with an open mouth and a smile.

"You gonna swallow it all?"

You nod eagerly, ready to prove yourself to the man standing in front of you. The moment he lets himself slip into the warm, wet cavern of your mouth you know he's not going to last. So, he dangles it in front of you, letting you chase the tip of his cock around, before holding you and it steady and slowly, slowly, feeding it into your mouth.

You groan immediately at the taste of him, swirling your tongue and watching as he tenses, trying desperately not to buck into your mouth. You hold onto his thighs, shaking beneath the rough denim of his jeans, and begin to suck him down. You can hear his groans and moans around the wet slurp of your mouth around his cock, taking him deeper and deeper until his hand holds onto your shoulder, steadying himself as he tenses, ready to blow after so little stimulation.

Hollowing your cheeks around him, you suck, swirling your tongue around his head as precum seeps from his tip and coats your mouth.

"That's it. Suck, suck, suck. Come on, baby. Fuck yeah, here it comes."

He doesn't breathe for a beat, and then two, as you suck deeply on his cock with each bob of your head, whining around his length and willing him to come in you, to finally fill you.

Then he's gasping in air and letting out a deep moan, and you push your mouth further back down his cock as he fills your mouth completely and unloads into your throat.

"F-uhhhh."

You swallow around him, gulping down rope after rope of his cum, savoring the taste of him just as you did Andrew. There wasn't time for your jaw to ache, Joel hadn't taken long enough, but there's an ache settled deep in your pussy as you watch him come in you. With each salty burst, you feel your cunt twitch with the threat of an orgasm you can't quite reach.

"A-aah, fuuuuck," he gasps, looking down at you. His balls are still tight, and while he's stopped spurting into your mouth, he still fucks shallowly into your throat as the last few drips of him empty into you.

"Such a good girl," he whispers down at you, as you sit knees splayed, covered in Andrew's cum, pussy practically dripping onto the floor below. He sighs, stroking your face gently as he slumps against the wall. You would think you'd just sucked the bones out of him, his rounded shoulders lifting with each deep breath as he finally comes back to himself. "You had a good time? Playing with your new friend."

Anxiety and shame have faded away, so when you nod up at him, your eyes blaze with certainty as you answer him. "The best, Daddy."

"S'good. Now, looks like you've made even more of a mess down there, baby. Let's get you cleaned up."

Joel helps you to your feet, the ache in your knees easily ignored as he takes you into his arms. The shower is soon turned on through a haze of kisses and whispers, and you're pushed into the cubicle with him following quickly behind.

He indulges first, capturing your cum coated nipple in his mouth, getting one more taste of Andrew from your skin before directing you under the warm spray of water. It feels glorious, being propped up by the warm mass of Joel behind you whilst water cascades down your front. You run your hands across your chest, feeling the slick slowly wash away with each swipe.

"Foot up," Joel whispers, pulling your leg to rest in a shelf low in the wall. Anyone else would have been confused by its placement, too low to be useful for storage, but it was one of the more genius ideas of Joel's bathroom renovation. Placed perfectly for your height, it opened you up perfectly to him whenever the two of you took a shower together.

With your toes resting securely in the shower alcove, Joel brushes his hand down your front, over the swell of your belly and between your parted legs. His fingers glide through your folds easily, slipping two fingers into your used pussy. You feel wetter than you've ever been, between Andrew's cum and the sight of Joel coming undone in your mouth so easily, how could you be anything else.

Curling his fingers, you feel the deep squelch of them inside you, dragging across your front wall before pulling out. He rinses them under the stream of water, watching more of Andrew's come rinse away down the drain, before he plunges them between your legs once more, fucking you with them harder now. Gripping him tight as you buck into his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers, he wraps an arm tight around your waist, sucking hard on your neck. Andrew had already given you a small bruise there, you can feel it, and the incessant sucking of Joel's mouth, the nibbling of his teeth and the scratch of his beard send you into sensory overload. As good as his figners feel fucking into you, pulling wetness out of your cunt and into his palm, you need more friction. You try to rock your hips, to find any sort of pressure against your clit, but he's pulling back, shushing you with gentle kisses to your cheek. It's then that you realize you've been whining and moaning loudly, the noise echoing off the bathroom tile.

"I know what you need, shh, it's okay."

A gentle brush of his fingers against your neglected clit has you writhing in his arms, before he finds it again with firmer pressure, swiping your slick and Andrew's cum over it again and again. You'd come so much today, at the hands of another man, but you were desperate to come on Joel's fingers now too.

"You gonna come?"

"Mmhm."

"Words, baby."

"Yes, Daddy."

"S'good," he whispers, his fingers thrumming against your clit whilst water pelts your skin. "You can do it. Come for me. Come for Daddy."

"Ff- unnngh."

And you're coming, twitching and gushing around his fingers as they rub your clit.

"Oh fuck, that's it. Push it out, push it all out." You don't know what makes him ask, or what makes you do it, but you bear down, pushing, as Joel's fingers relentlessly swipe over your clit, and you buckle in his arms, coming so hard you see stars as your head briefly descends under the stream of water. Your thighs are soaked and shaking, too weak to keep you standing, when Joel finally gives in, pulling you up and cupping your pussy in his broad hand and holding you tight to his chest. Blowing water away from your face, you pant and moan in his arms, a total mess of words tumbling from your mouth with each whine.

No one could make you an incoherent mess like Joel Miller could.

He stands, rocking his feet from side to side, and you sway with him, held in his loving arms under the warm water as you come down from your high. Finally, your breath steadies and you can turn to kiss him, pressing the sweetest of kisses to his plush lips, smiling as his mouth chases yours.

"You said you were going to clean me up, not make me more of a mess."

"Can't help that you're so pretty when you come for me."

You roll your eyes, swatting him with a wash cloth.

"I always come for you."

"Do you?" he says with a raised brow and a smirk, and for a moment you consider it. Whether you come at your own hand, or his, or Andrew's, you think it's true. You want Joel to know about every time, every moment of happiness and joy and pleasure you have. That's what you want to share with him, and that makes you even more grateful that he's willing to share you. Squeezing soap onto the wash cloth, you slap it into his hands, pulling him into you for one last kiss before you finally get clean.

"Always, Joel."

And he believes you. taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

[toxicanonymity]

Toxic: this is from 🎃 anon who kindly asked about writing something for me. this is amazing and it starts after cucking stepdad with another Joel so read that first. so many references 😭 💗

Anonymous asked:

Halloween here! Here's my lil fic just for you. I had fun rereading both Joels' fics and tossing in some inside jokes and hopefully captured their mannerisms and speech (dialogue is hard for me). Thank youuuuu!:) (also ur the genius not me lol). SDJ=Stepdad Joel

Joelkemon Universe What If?

(what if you met up with Thighs after your latest cucking fun) BY HALLOWEEN ANON

1.5k, thighs out!Joel x f!reader, cuck!SDJ

After the three of you come off your high, SDJ shuffles into the pool’s bathroom/locker room to clean up. He doesn’t come out for a while, and you and Thighs Out swim around a little and you chat and flirt together. You find out he's staying at the resort for two weeks partly on vacation and partly for work. He's a sports agent for a very famous golfer who now in old age is more famous for their spokesperson work for the resort and makes surprise appearances in the course for golf fans.

You both agree to meet for dinner that evening at the nicest restaurant on the water. “If you need anything in the meantime, sugar,” he brushes his thumb against your lip and you sigh. He looks up past your shoulder and his eyebrows go up. “Just give me a call.” He kisses your hand and nods his head, calling over your shoulder “Take care buddy!” to SDJ who just came back from the locker room and has a permascowl across his face. He looks between the two of you and shakes his head. “For god’s sake”, he mutters under his breath and huffs off while you lay on one of the chairs, soaking up the sun with your book. 

You tell your mom and SDJ you have dinner plans with someone and your mom says something like “good for you girl!’ but SDJ's jaw drops and he blurts out a short "No!" and then covers his mouth. Your mom laughs and smacks him in the chest. "Oh c'mon hon she's an adult. Don't be such a square.” You hear them leave while you're in your room getting ready.  

You change into a snug, lacy swimsuit coverup that could pass for a dress. You put on a new, skimpier swimsuit underneath and some strappy, tall sandals. Thighs sends you the name of the restaurant and you send him a mirror selfie from the bathroom. “Damn, sugar 💦 Don’t keep Daddy waiting 🦪” You mentally agree to yourself to send him at least three nude selfie that night during dinner. 

At the restaurant Thighs treats you to drinks and the best meal you’ve had the whole vacation. He asks about SDJ’s deal and you tell him the abridged version of your history. 

“Yeah, he sounds like a-” 

“Jackass, I know” you sigh. 

“I was gonna to say a dumbass prude, but that works too." He leans back and takes a drag of his vape (🍃) and blows it out to sea. "No way I could stop myself if you were under my roof. Hell, no way I'd wanna.” He licks his lips. This stirs something in you and you feel your core pulse under your dampening bikini bottoms. He passes you the pen and you take a huge hit.

“So, do you want to fuck him? No judgement if you do.” He puts his hands up defensively. You hesitate and he laughs.

“Alright..do you want to fuck with him?" You decide he's onto something and you both start plotting.

You move to the bar of the restaurant after dinner and the sun has almost set. You send SDJ a snapchat pic of you holding your near empty margarita glass in front of the sunset. He opens it but immediately notices a glint of light on your chest: it's a very familiar looking gold chain. He immediately messages you to Take That Off and Who Took That Picture. You ignore him and ten minutes later he sends you a link to a stunning and extremely expensive Zeels diamond necklace and message that just says "please" and “im sry”. Maybe we're being too hard on him you tell Thighs. “You could be harder on me,” Thighs pouts jokingly. “You know I’d be happy to return the favor.” You smile and tell him to close his eyes. His eyebrows shoot up and he grins, eyes closed. “Okay, you can open them.” There’s something soft and hot pink sitting on the small bread plate he didn’t use from dinner. Thighs out drops his jaw, for once since you met him, he is speechless.

You text SDJ a thumbs up emoji and a selfie of yourself without the chain. You're leaning over, giving him a decent view of your tits that he came to not four hours earlier. 

SDJ tries to video chat you and you decline the call. He calls you and you pick up, "What is it now?". "Just missin' you s'all." SDJ slurs drunkenly. Your mom made friends with a bachelorette party so I'm in the room…alone…" He sounded more pitiful and sultry. "Look" you say, cringing at how pathetic he sounds. "The only way I'll even think about giving you another chance is that you prove to me you're sorry. For being such an overprotective, prudish, selfish, cheating asshole." 

There's a long pause. "So you don't want to fuck me?" he whimpers. 

"I didn't say that" you say bluntly. He hears a loud laugh and woo that's my girl on your end of the phone. “Just wait for my text, ok?” you say. “‘Kay baby. Love-”. You hang up.

You send SDJ one last picture, this time over text, you’re in your coverup looking out over the bar's balcony at the beach. He replies with a picture of his bulge nudging his veiny hand while laying on the couch and a heart emoji next to his head.

Thighs and you head to the beach with two pool chairs after dinner. It's late enough in the evening that there are only a few people left straggling by the water. The beach bar is far but close enough that someone could see you two if they were really looking for something filthy. 

You really do feel sorry for SDJ. And you really do miss teasing him and sneaking around. But if you two are going to fuck again, he has to prove he was in the wrong. And if that ends up blowing up in your face you can at least blackmail him. It’s a win-win for you either way.

You lay on the chair as the evening cools down your skin. Thighs holds your phone with one hand and with his other peels your coverup off and unties your bikini. He kneads your breasts, continuing to point your phone at your tits and face. "Are we filming?" you purr at him. "Hell yeah, baby. And you look like a fuckin' star." You blush and he chuckles, rubbing his inner thighs off camera where his swim shorts end. You flop back in the chair and he grinds his shorts and his growing dick outline into your core. A little bit of trimmed pubic hair peeks out from the tent in his shorts standing almost at full attention. That show is just for you however. He keeps your phone's camera pointed at your jiggling breasts and face screwed up in ecstasy. "Say stop," Thighs growls as he grips the fleshiest part of your hip and thrusts his covered erection into your dripping seam. "M-more!" you loudly beg and arch your back. A few silhouettes at the bar look in your direction. This only makes your nipples harder and you grind quick little circles into his crotch, aching for some friction. "Be patient, baby. You can do it. Tell your Stepdad your offer." he smacks your bottom playfully as he continues to record. You blush and turn away from the lens, biting your lip and say, "I will forgive you, if you do something for me." You look into the camera lens. 

"There's room service and a box being delivered to your new room, you can thank him [Thighs Out] for covering the cost, in about an hour.” you say. “Open the box and text me if you're game or not. Talk soon!" you wink and the video ends. You send it to SDJ and he texts back "Anything for you. I'll pick up the key now." 

Thighs Out kisses down your neck and sucks your nipple while manhandling your ass so much it starts to feel sore. "Wanna come to my suite, sugar? That is if I can take my hands off this sexy fuckin' ass of yours." He jiggles it while playing with your bikini straps and slowly ties them back up. You nod your head yes and pull on your coverup. You both walk back to the main road in the resort and take a shuttle bus to the expensive side of the resort. You find yourself back in his room, legs splayed and laying on your tummy completely bare. You wiggle against the soft white comforter, Thighs already rubbing your ass and murmuring in your ear. "Do you want to wait for him before we record?" You shake your head and say, "I'll still want to even if he doesn't."

"God I love your energy, baby." Thighs presses a hard kiss into you and carnally licks your mouth. He breaks it off to grab his phone and opens the camera app. 

"Let's get started, baby girl. Let Daddy teach you what a real cock can do."

-------

Toxic: Ok the "woo that's my girl" took me out 😭 like ik it's my line but the context is so perfect and you can just imagine stepdad hearing it on the other end of the line. 😭 Also I 100% imagine thighs out being no-judgment, very in character.

Thank you, 🎃 anon 🖤

--------

[javier-pena]

three's a crowd

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader x Joel Miller

Word Count: 9.9k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You’re in love with Frankie and he is in love with you, but you both have no idea how to act on it. Until Joel Miller comes along.

Warnings: friends to lovers | alcohol consumption | smoking | pining | jealousy | reader’s hair can get wet without it being an issue | Joel is kinda sleazy in this (but reader is very much into it) | mentions of cheating | protective Frankie | threesome m/f/(m) | a surprising amount of biting | the oral fixation in this is insane, I’m sorry | it’s all about hands and fingers | voyeurism | semi-public sex | cuck!Frankie but also not really (guess you’ll have to read it to find out what that means) | nipple play | (brief) fingering | (very brief) masturbation (m) | unprotected p in v sex | rough sex | spanking | orgasm delay | overstimulation | creampie

Notes: I started writing this fic in June and it was supposed to be a fun little summer thing and then stuff happened and now it's October - but here it finally is. There isn't really much I can say about it except that Dani @alexturner saved the whole thing by pointing out that the final fic wasn't really like what I had talked about while discussin the idea with her and after editing it, it's much, much better. I also had a lot of fun talking about Frankie's and Joel's backstory with you, Dani 🤭 maybe I'll write that one day ...

“D’you wanna fuck her, Miller?”

BEFORE

It must have been two years ago, or maybe it was three. Your hair was longer, you had just broken up with your boyfriend of five years, had just moved to a town where you didn’t know a single soul. “A fresh start is what you need.” That’s what your therapist said to you when you cried your heart out after Derek dumped you and moved in with his new girlfriend a week later. But she hadn’t been talking about this, moving halfway across the country, all the way from Maine, where the winters are cold and the air is always salty, to Texas, where it almost never snows and the tornado sirens make you run for cover.

That’s how you met Frankie, sweet, smiling Frankie. Your truck broke down in the grocery store parking lot and he jump-started it. He stuck out to you because he was wearing a pale blue baseball cap, bleached from countless summers under the hot Texan sun, and not a cowboy hat like all the other men around. You bought him dinner at that steak place that would become your favorite, and after three shots of tequila you opened up to him. He held you when you started to cry, took you home, slept on your couch when you asked him not to leave.

You’ve been friends ever since.

He showed you around San Antonio, he flew you to Enchanted Rock in a helicopter he rented, he even took you to Mexico where you found out he speaks Spanish fluently. He helped you fix the roof of your bungalow when it started leaking. You, in turn, took him to the cinema, made him watch horror movies that made him squeal, dragged him along to a rodeo, taught him how to ride a motorcycle when he told you he had always wanted to learn. The two of you just clicked. It felt right.

Now, after three years, you can’t imagine your life without Frankie in it. You don’t remember who you were before him, and you don’t want to. He’s your best friend, and you’re his. Where one of you goes, the other follows. And of course, people mistake you for a couple, of course they ask, “And what about your girlfriend here?”, they say, “You’re lucky to be dating such a nice young fella”. You always laugh, correct them lightheartedly. But sometimes you wish they were right. You love Frankie as a friend, more than you ever thought you could love anyone, but sometimes you want more.

You almost got that more about a year after meeting Frankie. One of his friends, Santi, was in town, and you went out with a group before taking advantage of the hot tub that came with Santi’s motel. There were drinks involved, one thing led to another, and suddenly you found yourself straddling Frankie, wearing nothing more than a bikini, your fingers tugging on his curls, his hands roaming all over your body. It didn’t go any further than that, and the next morning he dropped you off at your house with his usual, “See ya ‘round.” He never talked about it and neither did you. He was probably regretting it and you didn’t want to lose him over something like this, so you left it all unsaid.

He started dating someone soon afterwards, first Arabella, then Bessie, and you hated them both, even though they were probably decent women. Luckily, neither relationship lasted long because it hurt. You didn’t tell Frankie, acted perfectly civil around them, but it felt as if your heart had been dropped from a great height and had shattered against the pavement. You had to ease that pain with a couple of meaningless one-night-stands but they couldn’t take your mind off Frankie buried deep in another woman when it should have been you. And when you told him about Billy and Carson and Hank and Landon and Clara to provoke him to do something, he just shrugged it off and said, “I’m glad you had a nice evening.”

Frankie is single now, and so are you, and life is good. It isn’t always easy, but it’s a far cry from how it was in Maine. You’ve made peace with the whole Frankie situation, realizing it might just be enough knowing you’re the most important person in his life, even if you’ll never have him completely. This way, there also won’t be a messy breakup, hurtful things said in anger, actions you can never undo. You’re content with being Frankie’s best friend, and that should be enough.

It's summer now, one of the hottest on record. The AC in your bungalow broke and Frankie wanted to help you fix it, but then he got busy at work. That was almost a week ago, and you use these circumstances as an excuse to hang out at Frankie’s place as much as possible. He doesn’t mind. He has a big pool in his backyard that he always shares with you, and he loves your company. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s putting off fixing your AC on purpose.

You’re floating on your back, eyes closed, the sounds around you muffled by the water. Frankie is lounging in a chair by the side of the pool, resting in the shade after a hot day. Every time you glance over at him, his eyes are closed. That gives you the freedom to truly look, to see him how not many people are allowed to see him.

You take a deep breath and dive, floating weightlessly for a few seconds. It’s so easy to imagine this to be your life, Frankie to be your boyfriend. If he were, nothing would be different. You’d get to use your shared pool, watch him doze in the shade, help him prepare dinner later, laugh at his corny jokes … Your heart squeezes when you realize you have all of that and still it isn’t enough. What’s missing is riding him by the side of the pool, your bodies sticky with sweat. What’s missing is kissing his neck while he’s watching the brazier. What’s missing is knowing he’s yours and you’re his, come what may.

There’s a shadow by the side of the pool, and you scramble upwards, breaking through the surface with a gasp. “What?” you ask, smiling up at Frankie, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand.

Frankie gives you a thumbs up. “Just making sure you’re not drowning.”

You’re treading water as you say, “Would you jump in and rescue me if I was?”

He laughs. “I’m pretty sure you’re a better swimmer than me.”

“I’d make it worth your while.” You wink at him.

He lowers himself into a crouch so he’s closer to the surface of the water, closer to you. “How?”

“Ever heard of mouth-to-mouth?”

He laughs one of those laughs that comes from deep inside his chest and shakes his whole body. “Leave it to you to make saving someone’s life sound sexy.”

“But it is sexy,” you say emphatically. “Imagine pulling me from the pool, your big, strong arms wrapped around me. I think you’d stay calm and collected; you’d know exactly what to do. Any woman who doesn’t fall for you after that would be a fool.”

Frankie dips his fingers into the water and flicks some of it in your direction. You squeal and try to duck, but the drops still hit you in a quick shower. “Shut up,” Frankie laughs.

You use your whole hand to try and shove the water back toward him. You miss. “Stop it,” you tell him, no weight behind your words, a broad smile on your face.

“Hey!” he shouts. “Don’t make me come in there, young lady.”

He always makes you laugh when he calls you that, the air of authority he puts into his words. You’re not that much younger than he is, but he always acts as if you’re 20 years his junior, while you have started calling him “gramps” to rile him up.

You propel yourself backward, away from him toward the opposite side of the pool. “You’re too chickenshit.”

“Oh, just you wait.” He starts to pull his shirt over his head, his cap that he always wears getting caught in the hem of the neckline. You really try not to but you can’t help looking at his soft belly, the white skin such a stark contrast to his tanned arms. You wonder what it would be like to touch him, what sounds he would make in response to the difference in pressure, if you were using your nails or –

“Am I interruptin’ somethin’?”

You don’t mean to, but you squeal at the sudden appearance of a strange man next to Frankie. You were so preoccupied staring at your friend you didn’t notice someone else approach.

Frankie lowers his shirt. His cheeks are slightly flushed. “Joel!”

You glance between the two men, but neither of them offers an explanation. Instead, a heavy silence settles itself over this already muggy afternoon.

Finally, the stranger, Joel, speaks. “Is this a bad time or –?”

“No, no,” Frankie quickly assures him while you bite down a harsh, “Yes, it is”. Frankie runs his palms down his shirt, trying to smooth the creased fabric. “I just … I had no idea you were in town.

“Well, I am,” Joel replies in a tone of voice that rubs you the wrong way. “I thought I’d drive by, see if you’re home.”

Frankie glances at you, seemingly only now remembering your presence. “This is Joel Miller,” he says in an oddly formal voice. “We sometimes work together.”

“Hi.” You raise your hand out of the water to wave at Joel, the smile you put on not reaching your eyes.

If you had to guess, you’d say Joel was older than Frankie by at least five years, maybe even ten. He’s taller too, broad-shouldered where Frankie tends to fold in on himself. His graying hair is slightly too long, but his graying beard makes him look handsome, especially when he gives you a twisted half-smile as if he’s fully aware of what he just interrupted and is taking pleasure in your discomfort and annoyance. You want him to leave but with a clench of your stomach you realize you also want him to stay.

“She your girlfriend?” Joel asks without pretense, nodding at you in a way that makes you clench your fists.

Frankie chuckles awkwardly, a sound you only heard a few times before and always hated. He lifts his cap with one hand to scratch his scalp, then shakes his head. “No, we’re just friends.”

Joel shifts, rolls his shoulders ever so slightly. “Nice to meet you, just friend of Frankie’s.”

Can’t say the same about you, you want to say but if there’s one thing you learned from your years spent in the south is that there is nothing more important than hospitality. “You too,” you say instead, and start kicking the water, doing laps in the pool. If you ignore him, maybe he’ll leave soon.

But Frankie opens a beer bottle for him and Joel sits down in the lawn chair next to him, taking a big swig. You try to ignore them as best as you can, but you can’t keep your ears from straining to catch snippets of their conversation.

“… between jobs … just a couple o’ nights …”

“… go out tomorrow … bar in town …”

“… broke up with me ‘cause she … her friend …”

Sometimes Frankie laughs in a way he only does when he wants to impress someone. Usually, you can see it too, usually you admire the same people but there is something about Joel that makes alarm bells ring in your head. And you don’t like the way Frankie behaves around him. You don’t want to call it submissive because you hate that word, but it feels as if he’s putting up a front for Joel, not saying what he really wants to say, not doing what he really wants to do.

But then sometimes Joel’s eyes are on you, his gaze hooded, and he doesn’t look away when you catch him staring. There is something in the brazen way he does it that makes you crave more, and you’re a little bit disgusted with yourself for wanting that. You don’t know this man, and you don’t like what you glimpsed so far, but when he asks, “Any chance of you joinin’ us, sunshine?” you’re so very tempted to say yes.

“I wanna shower first,” you answer, pushing yourself up on the edge of the pool. Joel’s eyes immediately shoot to your chest while Frankie’s are glued to his bottle, his fingers busy picking at the label.

“Don’t keep us waitin’,” Joel says in a tone of voice that grates on you and makes you tighten your jaw. You want to flip him off, and he knows it too because he raises his half-empty bottle to you. You wish Frankie would say something, or at least acknowledge your presence, but a loose thread on his jeans has caught his attention now. Your chest tightens with annoyance and, even though you’re loath to admit it, hurt, and you huff at Joel before grabbing your towel and making your way toward Frankie’s house. You feel Joel’s eyes burn a searing mark into your back.  

You have no right to feel the way you do, you tell yourself as you work shampoo into your hair. Frankie can be friends with whomever he wants to. This is his house and he can let himself be treated however he sees fit. And you’re not dependent on him to defend you against a jerk like Joel, you can manage that all on your own. Besides, it’s not as if Joel is going to be around for long, he will most likely leave after another beer or two, so there really is no reason for you to get so worked up about it.

And yet …

You turn off the water with a quick jerk of your hand.

Stepping out of the shower, locating a fresh towel, it’s like second nature to you. You briefly bury the face in the soft fabric, inhaling the clean scent of Frankie’s detergent, a scent that will always bring you comfort. Then you pull one of the several dresses you keep at Frankie’s house over your head before using the towel to superficially dry your hair. It comes away smelling like him, which sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You’ve come to terms with it, you really have. Yes, you sometimes dream about kissing him, yes, you can’t stop fantasizing about what the two of you would be like as a couple, but what you have is nice. And it feels like it should be enough, which should count for something, right?

“Took your sweet time in there, sunshine.”

You jump, only registering Joel’s presence leaning against the opposite wall as you pull the bathroom door closed behind you.

“There’s a half bath next to the kitchen,” you tell him, avoiding his searing gaze. “You know, if you need to go.”

You try to scurry down the hallway and back out into the garden, but Joel pushes himself off the wall and steps into your way. “I don’t,” he answers. “I was looking for you.”

You sigh and look up at him, hoping he’ll notice your mild annoyance. “Why?”

“Frankie’s busy with dinner.” His gaze sweeps you from your damp hair down to your bare feet, widening as he notices your dress is slightly too tight at your chest. “And you look like good company.” Before you can come up with a snide remark, he’s two steps closer and his hand is suddenly resting on your waist, his palm hot to the touch even through the fabric. “You’re certainly prettier.”

The sudden contact, his brazen approach catches you off-guard. It’s been years since a man has treated you like this, and many years more since you were free to do with that whatever you wanted.

“Come on.” Why is his voice so low suddenly? “Cat got your tongue?”

You roll your eyes. “N-”

But before you’re able to finish the second short sound, the thumb of his free hand is on your bottom lip and he starts to pull it down. “Let me check.”

Before your brain can consider all your options, you bite down on his finger, hard, out of reflex, drawing a hiss from him. He pulls back, steps away, shakes his hand. But that sleazy half-smile is still firmly fixed on his face. “Oh, you’re a little fighter, is that it?”

You take a step closer to him in an attempt to intimidate him, but he doesn’t budge. “I just don’t like it when people touch me without my permission.”

“I bet that sweet little pussy of yours is tellin’ a different tale.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shove him, both palms hitting his chest, and he loses some ground.

He tries to snatch your wrist but you’re too fast for him. “Careful, sunshine. Don’t irritate me.”

“Why?” You push your chin forward in defiance. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Oh, I have some ideas.” Joel reaches for your waist again, but you manage to step back quickly. He balls his hand into a fist. “I just ain’t sure you’d like them very much.”

“Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“I’d like to teach you some,” he shoots back.

The sound of Frankie clearing his throat makes you jump. He’s standing behind Joel, just inside the sliding door that leads into the garden, a cocktail shaker in his hand, an apron covering his chest. “Drinks are ready,” he announces, his voice tense. Then he turns around, leaving you to wonder how long he’s been standing there and how much he heard.

Your stomach curls tightly with shame. Not because of anything he might have overheard or because of anything you did, but because you liked the way Joel talked to you, you liked that he decided he wanted you and went for it. You liked being close to him, feeling his uninvited touch on your body, hearing him say those lewd things. And all the while you forgot about Frankie, for the first time in months.

Joel glances at you and some of the shame must show on your face because he says, “If I kissed you right now, do you think he’d punch me?”

And just like that you’re back to feeling the slow grating of annoyance, like nails scraping down a chalkboard. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you huff before pushing past him and stepping back out into the garden.

The evening light is softer now, the heat feels less oppressive. The sun has begun to dip toward the horizon, and Frankie’s shadow is long against the grass as he waits for you to rejoin him by the pool. You want to put on your brightest smile for him, want to show him how much you appreciate everything he is doing for you, but with him you never have to pretend. Your face lights up when you see him whether you want it to or not, your steps quicken, your heart feels full of happiness. Even someone like Joel can’t ruin that, no matter how hard he might try.

“All clean?” Frankie has a lopsided grin on his face and a martini glass in his hand. When you nod, he hands it to you. “I made it just the way you like it.”

“Thanks, honey,” you tease and playfully kiss his cheek.

“This one’s for you.” Frankie hands Joel a tumbler full of amber liquid.

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Just whiskey?”

“You seem like a whiskey kinda guy,” Frankie answers with a shrug before taking off his apron and hanging it over the backrest of his lawn chair.

“What are you having?” you ask, sitting down on one of the sun loungers Frankie keeps next to the pool.

Frankie lightly shakes his beer bottle. “I’ll stick with this for now.”

You glance from him to Joel and then back to him as both men remain standing, clutching their drinks. “Well, this is nice and relaxing.”

“Sorry,” Frankie mumbles and lets himself fall back into his chair. “Long day.”

Joel chuckles and steps forward, but instead of choosing the chair next to Frankie’s, he sits down on the sunbed right next to you. The rough denim of his jeans scrapes against your naked thigh and you scoot away from him, clearing your throat. Joel doesn’t seem to have noticed; his eyes are fixed on Frankie.

“You never told me you had a nice place like this,” he says, vaguely waving his hand at the pool and the manicured lawn. “I would’ve come over much sooner.”

“Where do you live?” you ask before Frankie can say something.

Joel chuckles before taking a sip from his whiskey. “You know what would go great with this?” He pulls a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of the back pocket of his jeans, conveniently having to lean against you to retrieve it. You push back, refusing to make yourself small. He holds the pack out to you first, but you shake your head. He doesn’t offer it to Frankie.

“She asked you a question.”

Your eyes snap from the sight of Joel lighting a cigarette, the filter hugged firmly between his lips, to Frankie, who has his elbows propped up on his knees, a thumb and forefinger wrapped around the neck of the beer bottle, holding it precariously.

Joel takes a drag from his cigarette and exhales slowly. The smoke tickles your suddenly very dry throat. “I live here and there,” he finally replies. “Wherever work takes me.”

“Okay, so where do you currently live?” you probe.

Joel waves his hand around. “Y’know …”

“What he means to say is that he’s currently between houses,” Frankie clarifies, a slight tension in his voice you haven’t heard before.

“Oh, so you’re a bum?” Is Frankie’s face lighting up with satisfaction at your comment or are you only imagining that?

Joel takes another drag. “I’m whatever you want me to be.”

It was bad enough that he had no regard for your boundaries when Frankie wasn’t right there next to you, but he can’t expect you to just take it now that Frankie is this close. You try to stand up, but his hand closes around yours and pulls you back down next to him, the force of it making some of your drink spill.

“Hey!” you protest loudly, but he only slings his arm around your shoulder.

“His girlfriend just kicked him out,” Frankie goes on, pretending he didn’t notice what just went down. “He cheated on her with her best friend.”

“Couldn’t have been a very good friend then.” You pick Joel’s heavy arm off your shoulders and let it fall down next to you.

Joel shrugs. “If I see somethin’ I want, I take it.”

“Must be lonely, going through life with that mindset,” you observe, watching him as he stubs out the cigarette against the tiles surrounding the pool.

“Depends on what you want out of life, I s’pose.”

You glance up at the slowly darkening evening sky, currently a soft, darkening blue, then take a sip from your very strong martini. “And what is that?” you ask, watching a bird glide across the sky.

“D’you wanna fuck her, Miller?”

AFTER

“Yes.” It comes out rough and breathless and eager, and suddenly your blood is rushing in your ears. You have no idea when the evening shifted to this, but you suppose it was inevitable from the moment Joel walked in. You just didn’t think Frankie would be the one to ask the question.

You glance at Frankie, sweet Frankie, who always respects you, always treats you like you’re royalty, and you see something in his gaze you’ve never seen before, a sort of strangled curiosity, like he’s desperate to find out where this might go, but unsure if he can handle the way there. You smile at him, and you nod, and his pupils dilate immediately, setting your heart pounding. That’s all he needs from you, and all you need from him.

Frankie puts his beer bottle on a small table next to his chair, leans back, crosses one leg over the other, ankle resting against his thigh. “Tough luck, pal,” he says, and next to you Joel stiffens. “You can kiss her though.”

For a moment, you’re right back there in high school, a bottle pointing at you, your friend Ines grinning at you from across the circle, Billy licking his lips nervously. But you’re all grown up now, you’ve played these games a million times, should know their rules by heart. Then why are your hands so sweaty?

Joel doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t even wait for you to turn toward him. His hand is already at the back of your neck while your eyes are still on Frankie, and his lips have found yours while you’re still trying to decipher the look in Frankie’s gaze. The kiss is rough, almost unpleasantly so, and you can taste the nicotine and whiskey on Joel’s tongue that claims your mouth with hungry licks. Joel’s whole body is pushing against yours, and you push back, pressing your chest against his, making his concentration slip briefly. You use this moment of inattention to gain the upper hand and bite his lip, less violently than you bit his finger but hard enough for him to inhale sharply. Maybe even hard enough to draw a little bit of blood.

Joel shifts, tightens his hold on your neck, and pushes up against you even more, like he’s trying to get you to lie down and submit to him. Resisting his efforts gives you a feeling of power you’re unable, maybe even unwilling, to control. You’re still trying to come to terms with the newness of the situation, with the shift that has taken place, but you know exactly what you want, and that is not to give up one inch to Joel without making him work hard for it.

Joel’s hand is on your naked thigh now, tough callouses rubbing against smooth skin. Just like his kisses, it almost feels too violent, but then you remember Frankie’s hands roaming your body in that hot tub, the way the water hadn’t managed to soften his skin. You remember how much you wanted him that night, and suddenly you wish Joel would touch you more.

As if he can read your thoughts, Joel’s hand is suddenly at the underside of your breast, cupping it through the fabric of your dress, his thumb finding the nipple so confidently as if he has touched you a million times before. Your body responds to the touch immediately and you lean into it, your lips parting in a stifled moan. The pad of his thumb rubs across your hardening nipple, rolls it through the dress and the bra you’re wearing, and you should push him away, make him feel like his efforts are futile and he has no effect on you whatsoever, but it’s been too long. Too fucking long. You’re on fire, unpleasantly so, feeling like you’re burning up too fast, like the flames have barely touched you and you’re already turning to ash. You press yourself into Joel’s touch as your jaw slackens, and he grabs your breast and squeezes it roughly while pushing his tongue into your mouth with the sole intent of making you gag.

“Hey!” Frankie’s voice is sharp, but when you flinch away from Joel and glance over at him, he’s still sitting in his chair holding his bottle of beer.

Your ears feel hot with shame as you refuse to acknowledge Joel’s presence and avoid Frankie’s gaze. Frankie was the one to suggest the kiss, Joel made the first move – then why do you feel such shame? Like you’ve been caught cheating? Why do you feel it’s wrong to –

“What?” Joel asks, interrupting the spiral you’re about to slide down.

Frankie squeezes the neck of the bottle, his skin making a wet sound against the glass. “We said kiss.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see that sleazy smirk return to Joel’s lips. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a little second base.”

Frankie seems to consider this, his eyes fixed to the ground beneath his feet. You wish you could tell what was going on in his mind, but your heart is still racing like you’re being hunted for sport and your body is screaming for Joel to put his hands on you again, and all of that is too much to read Frankie.

Frankie holds out a hand to Joel. “Cigarette,” he says, and Joel obliges. You watch Frankie light it up and take a deep drag, a sight so unfamiliar it makes you eager to commit it to memory. “So you really wanna fuck her then?” he finally asks.

There is a pressure low in your abdomen that makes you shift against the lounger.

Joel only laughs, crude and hoarse, as if deigning that question with an answer is below him. “Where did you get that idea from?”

Frankie takes another drag, a short one this time, before glancing directly at Joel’s crotch. You follow his gaze to find a bulge there, one that definitely wasn’t there before, straining against the stiff fabric. When Joel’s eyes find yours, you make sure he sees you lick your lips. His jaw twitches.

Frankie leans back comfortably in his chair, some of the ash from the cigarette landing on his pants. He brushes it off with a flick of his wrist. “I’ll let you fuck her. But you’re gonna do exactly as I say.”

You think you must have entered a parallel universe or another dimension. For a short while at least. None of it makes sense: the cigarette in Frankie’s hand, the way he talks and what he says, that man next to you who is nothing more than a stranger, who had his tongue in your mouth two minutes ago, and that all of this makes you wetter than you can ever remember being. But then Frankie’s eyes meet yours, dark pupils blown unfamiliarly wide, and yet there is something in them you recognize – this isn’t a stranger who is looking at you, this is your best friend. No matter what happens next, he’s going to look out for you. All you need to do is trust him.

Next to you, Joel shifts, adjusting his crotch. He licks his lips. “Yeah.” He nods. “Okay.”

Your eyes are on Frankie now, heart racing in your chest, mouth completely dry, as you wait for what comes next. Your brain is running hot trying to go through all the possibilities of what Frankie could have Joel do to you, but all you come back to is Frankie kneeling in front of you, spreading your legs. Joel is nothing more than a shadow beside you, watching with a hungry gaze.

Frankie leans forward and reaches out his hand as if he means to touch you, but then stops himself and leans back. “You don’t have to do as you’re told.” The softness in his voice catches you by surprise, but he goes on before you can analyze it. “To start, do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You glance at Joel, at how stiff his shoulders are, and you face him, trembling fingers pulling his shirt up where it is tugged into his jeans. Up and up you pull it until he has to raise his arms for you to get it off, and then you finally see his body betray his nerves as his chest flushes a deep red. There is a scar on his left collarbone, old and slightly brighter than the skin around it, there are some sparse, dark gray hairs on his chest, and his stomach is so much firmer than Frankie’s, so much less inviting.

Joel huffs and your gaze shoots back up to his face. “Kinda boring, don’t ya think? Pullin’ off my shirt when you could’ve done anythin’ to me?”

You won’t let him get to you, not like that, not when Frankie’s eyes are on you. “There’s no shame in me enjoying myself by taking things slow,” you retort. “I know your first move would’ve been to stuff two fingers into me but where’s the fun in that?”

“Oh, you’re gonna see where the fun in that is when you’re comin’ ‘round ‘em,” he replies with that infuriatingly sleazy smile darkening his face.

You lean in just a tiny bit closer. “Only if Frankie lets you.” God, that thought turns you on so much your head starts to spin.

Once you recover, Joel’s right hand is cupping your jaw, his grip firm, while his thumb rests against your lips. “Someone should stuff that mouth o’ yours.”

You open your mouth then, until his thumb is only pressing against your bottom lip. You let it slide in past your teeth until you can feel it on your tongue, heavy, tasting like nicotine. You close your lips around the digit and suck on it, your cheeks hollowing, your tongue massaging it. The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches. Somewhere to your right, you hear Frankie’s chair groan.

The sound of Frankie’s voice interrupts you. “I want you to take off her dress.”

With a wet plop, Joel pulls his thumb out of your mouth and then starts pulling at the straps of your sundress, pushing them down your shoulders.

“Slowly,” Frankie adds, his voice calm as if he’s talking to a semi-feral animal.

Joel moves you so both your feet are planted firmly on the ground, then shifts so he’s behind you. He finds the zipper at the back of your dress and begins to pull it down, torturously slowly as if there is something he wants to prove to Frankie. As more and more of your skin is revealed, he brushes over it, calloused fingers making you shiver. His hands feel so much like Frankie’s, and yet not at all like him. Frankie would be soft and gentle too, but he wouldn’t scrape you with his short nails, he wouldn’t tremble like it takes everything in him not to devour you whole.

The fabric of your dress glides down your shoulders and back, and comes to rest around your hips. It isn’t anything Frankie hasn’t seen before – your breasts are still covered, after all – and yet there is something in his gaze when you look at him, a strange kind of longing, like desire that has been kept in check for so long it has become second nature to him. You can see it in the flare of his nostrils, in the darkening of his eyes, in the way his bottom lip trembles briefly before he darts out his tongue to wet it. And yet he sits there, watching, his body unmoving like it has been trained not to give in.

“Take off her bra.”

Even Frankie’s voice is controlled and even. You shift, pulling back your shoulders and pushing out your chest in an attempt to get him to break, but his gaze shifts from you to Joel as he waits for the other man to follow his orders. Joel doesn’t need to be told twice. He flicks open the clasp at your back with one hand and your bra falls away. You push out your chin, willing your face not to heat up.

Frankie’s throat works as he swallows, a small crack in the otherwise impenetrable wall he has put up. “You’re perfect …” His voice, too, cracks on the second syllable and he coughs. “Wouldn’t you agree, Joel?”

Joel doesn’t reply. Instead, he cups one of your breasts again and squeezes the nipple tightly between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch you back as a small stab of pain shoots through you. Now that the protective barrier of fabric is gone, you can feel just how rough his skin is against your sensitive spots, how his callouses catch in places your own fingers smoothly glide over. Your head falls back against his shoulder as he pinches your nipple again, as he begins to roll it roughly, pull on it from time to time to hear you hiss.

Joel’s chest rises and falls against your back, hot skin pressing into hot skin, his breath caressing the back of your neck. He runs his nose from your earlobe all the way down to your shoulder, then back up again, but before he reaches the starting point, he sinks his teeth into your neck and bites down, drawing a shivering gasp from you. And then he doesn’t let go. He bites down harder, holding you in place, while cupping your breast with his entire hand, kneading it until your world tilts.

You’re not aware of how desperate you are to find purchase, but the garden and the pool and the sky above right themselves when your hand finds Joel’s thigh. The denim is rough beneath your palm, but he is a rough man so it doesn’t surprise you. What does surprise you though is how hard you have to fight to keep yourself from bucking your hips.

“Joel, stop.”

For just a short little while you had forgot Frankie is there with you, but his voice reminds you with brute force. And when Joel does as he’s told and you are left with nothing to distract you, all you can do is look at your best friend, at his fingers wrapped around that cigarette, and wonder what it would feel like to have him play with your nipple instead of Joel. The painful way your heart constricts at that thought utterly catches you by surprise.

Frankie takes a final drag on his cigarette, flicks the butt away, and clears his throat. “You’ll only do what I tell you to do.”

You shift, the fabric of your underwear rubbing against your clit sending a bolt of desperation through you, mixing with that unbearable longing to create a heady, dangerous cocktail. “Frankie, please.”

Frankie takes you in, and you have no idea what he sees, but he runs his thumb across his bottom lip and asks, “Do you want him to touch you?”

Joel runs his fingers up and down your arm, his touch so light it feels like torture. You try to squirm away but he keeps you trapped against his chest.

You exhale shakily. “Yeah.” There’s a brief moment of hesitation, one that makes your heart flutter as you decide whether you should keep going. You do. “God, I’m so wet.”

Joel’s wandering fingers close around your upper arm like a vise.

But Frankie keeps up his walls. “Show me how wet she is, Joel.”

You don’t think there has ever been a moment in your life where you were more turned on, a single moment where you were less in control of your body and your desires. You try to stand up, your legs trembling like you just finished a marathon, hands wrapped around your dress, ready to pull it all the way down. Joel doesn’t even let you straighten your back. He pulls you back against his chest and wraps an arm around yours before running his free hand down your stomach, not seductively or teasingly but as if he has a task to fulfill. You’ve barely registered the sensation of his fingers against your lower stomach before he has pushed them past the fabric bunched around you hips and into your underwear, and this time you lose the battle against your own body. You roll your hips into his touch as your eyes flutter shut, you push and push, moans and whimpers urging him on. He doesn’t need to be encouraged – he rolls your clit beneath his index finger, just like he rolled your nipple, before dipping it lower, pushing past the muscles at your opening and up into you.

Before you can make sense of it all, he removes his hand and holds up two fingers right in front of your eyes, glistening with your slick. Your chest heaving, you try to catch your breath.

Frankie’s eyes are wide open. “What does she taste like?” he asks, his voice rough as if he hasn’t used it in quite some time.

Joel rubs his thumb against his index and middle finger, toying with your slick. “Don’t you want to find out for yourself?”

Frankie nods so slightly you can’t be sure it really happens, then hides behind a smirk, and you feel something unbearably insisting curl up tightly in the pit of your stomach. “You tell me.”

Suddenly, Joel’s fingers are at your lips, pushing into your mouth. You open up, surprised by the sudden intrusion, and then his thick digits are pressing down against your tongue, making you gag. Tears are filling your eyes, and spit drips out of your mouth as you feel Joel’s hot breath against the shell of your ear.

“Tell him.”

You can’t, not even if you wanted to. Not because you can’t taste yourself on Joel’s skin, not because you can’t talk with his fingers filling up your mouth, but because Frankie flies out of his chair, brow furrowed and fists clenched. Before he can come to your aid, you close your hand around Joel’s wrist and push his fingers even deeper into your mouth, not breaking eye contact with Frankie, not even for a split second.

Joel presses down against your tongue and you suck on his fingers eagerly, but none of that matters to you. The only thing you care about is the red flush creeping up Frankie’s neck and into his cheeks, and the way he keeps closing the distance between the three of you until he’s standing right there, close enough for you to reach out and run your hands up and down his thigh.

Frankie’s hand is warm and heavy as it closes around yours, pulling Joel’s fingers out of your mouth. You gasp, unable to prevent a thin thread of spit from connecting your lips to Joel’s hand. It winks out of existence a second later when Frankie’s mouth clashes against yours, drawing another gasp from you, one that releases months and months of pent-up longing, one that originates deep in your chest but almost dies on your lips, stifled by wonder.

It isn’t a soft kiss, it isn’t even particularly well executed since your teeth clash painfully and Frankie pushes too hard too quickly. He also tastes more like Joel than himself, of beer and cigarettes, but none of that matters. He could have given you a small peck on the cheek and it would have been the greatest kiss you had ever shared with anyone. You feel his breath against your cheek, a shaky exhale, and before you can stop yourself, you find yourself fisting his shirt, fingers clenched so tightly you will never be able to let go again. That is all you ever wanted, all you ever prayed for, and now that you have it, you never want to lose it again.

Eventually, Frankie pulls back ever so slightly and whispers against your lips, “Summer, that’s what you taste like,” and it’s such a corny line it should have you rolling your eyes, but instead you crane your neck and seal your lips to his again, high from the feeling of your tongue in his mouth. He huffs and pushes up against you, but he’s not close enough – there’s still so much space between you. You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt and pull him even closer, but suddenly rough hands grab your arms and hold you back forcefully.

“I wanna go first.” It isn’t a request, that much is clear.

Frankie pulls back and smiles down at you, his face soft and open, searching for any indication you don’t want to do this anymore. Even though you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you want him right now, the thought of him watching while Joel fucks you, utterly in control of the situation, makes you clench around nothing. Frankie can tell – he switches back to his neutral mask in the matter of a second. “You didn’t do as you were told …”

It isn’t a threat, but it might as well be.

Joel hooks a thumb into your mouth and pulls down your bottom lip. You try to bite him again, but he is prepared this time, holding you in place. “Let me come in her mouth at least.”

Frankie grabs Joel’s wrist again and pulls his hand away from your face. “No.”

You have never heard him use that voice before, that kind of voice that makes you snap to attention, that voice that commands people to follow him. You shift, trying to rub your thighs together, but it’s just a primal reaction you have no control over. All your attention is on Joel trying to pull his wrist out of Frankie’s grip, and on Frankie holding him in place, the muscles in his arm straining.

“I’m going to sit back down, and you’re going to fuck her.” Frankie’s voice is so calm it sends a shiver down your spine. “Slowly,” he adds, letting go of Joel’s wrist. “And if you make her come before I tell you to, there’ll be consequences.”

Every muscle in your body tightens. You’re too wound up to rationally consider what Frankie is proposing, too wound up to think about how much you want this and what that might mean. You glance behind you to catch Joel’s reaction, to see if he’s just as affected by Frankie’s proposition as you are, just in time to watch him lick his lips.

“And I get to fuck her however I want?”

Frankie’s gaze shifts to you. It’s nothing more than a glance, a quick check-in, and you nod, just as quickly, just as imperceptibly.

“Yes,” Frankie answers.

Next thing you know, you’re up on the lounger, knees and hands braced against the soft pillows, faded from long summers under the hot Texan sun, focusing on the sounds of Joel unbuckling his belt. You feel your throat tighten at those sounds, leather scraping against skin, metal clicking against metal, but your mouth is too dry to swallow. Joel unzips his jeans, then there’s a rustling sound, followed by a deep, needy groan. It’s enough to make your heartbeat stumble over itself with excitement. You try to turn your head and glance behind you to see what he is doing, but Joel catches your movement and forces your head down, firm grip at the back of your skull.

“Stay.”

To your right, you hear the sound of Frankie shifting in his chair. He doesn’t intervene.

Joel grabs the bunched-up fabric of your dress with both hands and begins to tear it with quick, jerking movements, ruining it. It falls away and glides down to the ground where it comes to rest next to the lounger, leaving you almost completely exposed to Joel. And Joel doesn’t hesitate. He pushes the thin fabric of your underwear aside and sinks into you with one deep, calculated thrust you can feel in your chest.

Your fists clenched, your head hanging low, you try to take it, but his thrusts send shudders of pain up and down your body. It’s not unbearable, and it shouldn’t surprise you; he fucks like he does everything else – rough and with an edge of violence to it – but the stretch is uncomfortable, and the thrusts are greedy, so much so you wish he had surprised you after all.

“Slow down,” Frankie orders, and you lift your eyes to him. A muscle twitches in his jaw, and when Joel does as he’s told, he watches you closely, searching your face for any signs of the discomfort lessening. You shift, your body adjusting to the feeling of being so full, and when Frankie asks, his voice low, “You okay?” you realize that you are. You’re more than okay, actually. Two more shallow thrusts from Joel and you’re completely relaxed.

“Yeah,” you answer, just for Frankie to hear and his lips quirk up in a smile.

“We’re good,” he tells Joel.

Joel’s open palm lands against your ass cheek catching you unawares, as does the moan you let loose at the sudden burst of pain. Frankie swallows, or at least you think he does – you can’t be sure with your eyes flutterin shut. You push back against Joel, eager for more, pulling him deeper inside of you with a greedy clench.

“The way you’re clenchin’ ‘round me makes me think you’ve never had dick before.”

Joel’s voice comes out restrained, the words are punctuated by more slaps, one harder than the last. Their meaning is lost on you as you are reduced to a babbling mess, unable to retain anything that is happening outside of your desire for him. You gush around his cock, hot and wet and wanton, and somewhere between the thrusts and the grunts, you hear a chortle.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t ya.”

That chortle is what pulls you back into yourself, and you risk another glance behind you, hoping that this time he will let you see. He does, and you watch him pound into you, both hands on your hips, denim pulled just low enough to free his cock, dark hairs curling just above it, streaked with bulging veins. He has one knee braced against the lounger, one foot firmly planted on the ground. You almost hate yourself for being so affected by that sight, but you can feel everything tighten, your body begging for release.

“Fuck,” you groan, your voice breathy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna –”

With a condescending smirk, Joel reaches for your clit. “Go ahead, sunshine.”

You close your eyes, focusing on how you’re clenching around him. You’re so, so close, you can almost taste the release on your tongue. Your mouth hangs open, a moan begins to emerge from someplace deep inside your chest and –

Joel’s hips falter and still, and you can feel yourself flutter desperately around him, but it’s not enough. You glide along his length, coming down from the edge, frustration blossoming in the pit of your stomach. Joel’s fingers rest uselessly against your swollen clit, still as the rest of him, and whenever you try to grind yourself against them, his touch lessens.

“Joel …,” you whine, opening your eyes to look back at him.

It’s not Joel your gaze lands on. It’s Frankie, standing right there next to the lounger, one hand on Joel’s head, fisting his hair, pulling on it so his chin is raised high, his neck exposed, a thick vein pulsing near its base. Joel is breathing heavily, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t try to free himself, while Frankie looks down at him, darkness clouding his features.

“You’ll do as I tell you or I won’t let you come inside of her.”

Frankie lets go of Joel’s hair with a shove to drive home the point. Even now, freed from his restraint, Joel doesn’t fight back. He glares at Frankie as if he’s imagining beating him bloody, but he does like he’s told, removing his fingers from your clit to dig them back into your hip. He picks up the pace again, thrusts a little shallower than before, drawing a sigh of relief from you, scratching that undefinable itch Frankie restraining Joel like that triggered in you. That itch you don’t want to examine too closely right now but that you know you’ll return to.

Frankie pats Joel’s shoulder, two firm raps against the straining muscles. “Good boy.”

You clench so hard around Joel he must notice, but he doesn’t remark on it. He resumes the steady snapping of his hips while your eyes fall shut and drop down to your elbows, those two words floating around your mind like an echo.

Good boy.

A desperate little whimper escapes you, one at least Frankie seems to hear, because he runs two knuckles up and down your spine in a movement that is meant to calm you but shoves you toward the edge with a violent jolt. He must know what he’s doing to you, there is no way he hasn’t noticed. And it should fill you with shame, it should make you resent him, the way you lie bare before him, showing him the most vulnerable parts of yourself, but it only makes you want him more. You open your eyes to find him standing right next to you. This close, you can see how tight his pants stretch over the bulge you hadn’t noticed before, how you think you can even make out a dark spot of precum forming against the fabric. You lick your lips.

“Frankie, please.” Your voice is rough and broken, laced with desperation.

Joel shoves into you so violently you feel the thrust in your throat, but he doesn’t say anything.

Frankie leans down and places a soft kiss against your temple, then runs his thumb across your furrowed brow. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

You whish you could tell him you’ve been ready ever since he suggested Joel should fuck you, but you can only laugh, a broken sound followed by a hard swallow.

Frankie straightens his back, his eyes bright with excitement. “I see.” He makes his way back over to his chair and sits down, the wood groaning beneath his weight. “Go ahead, Joel.”

Joel picks up the pace, making every thought, every doubt you might have, instantly disappear from your head. His fingers find your clit again, rubbing you hard, and after that it doesn’t take long at all. After that, you let out a deep moan and push back against Joel so hard it makes him lose his rhythm, but it doesn’t matter. You’re coming, pulling him deeper into you as he fucks you through it, letting you squeeze him as you sink deep into pleasure, losing track of your body’s movements.

You come back to the surface when you’re spent, and everything feels sore and tender, but Joel doesn’t stop. There is a burning between your legs now and you hiss, reaching back for him.

Frankie is there next to you again, cupping your cheek. You have no idea when he approached, what made him leave his role as spectator this time, but you instantly relax when you feel his touch on him. “Just a little more,” he murmurs, calming you. “You can take it, I know you can.”

You watch him squeeze the bulge in his pants, and giving it another, harder squeeze when Joel grabs your wrist and pins it to the small of your back. The proof of how much he’s affected by you is enough to chase away the discomfort and rekindle the fire in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes glued to the bulge in Frankie’s pants you wonder what it would be like to feel him thrust into you, chasing his release, to feel him take what he needed from your body, fueled by how much you want him in return.

Finally, Joel stills and spills into you, groaning as his orgasm sparks through him. But your eyes are locked to Frankie’s, as neither of you dares to look away.

THE OUTCOME

The neon sign of the motel casts deep shadows into the cabin of Frankie’s pickup. Your gaze is fixed to the flashing letters, promising vacancy. A car rushes past, its tires whispering against the concrete, still hot from the Texan summer day. You try to ignore the tightness in your stomach, but when a door falls shut with a rattling bang somewhere nearby, you feel that sound like a punch to your gut.

“That was fun,” Joel says from the backseat. He stretches his legs, kicking his foot against your backrest. “If you ever wanna repeat that …” He lets the offer hang there in the air between you.

Frankie grabs the steering wheel tightly, the wood groaning under his skin. “We’ll know where to find you,” he finishes the sentence.

Joel braces both hands against your backrest and leans forward so his lips are close to your ear. “I think I’ll stick around for a while, so if you ever wanna grab some drinks, sunshine …”

Only half-listening, you reply, “Whatever,” fighting down the nausea you’ve been feeling ever since you climbed into Frankie’s truck.

“Whatever,” Joel echoes with a huff, opens the backdoor, and climbs out. “You know, I’ve had better,” he adds, before shutting the door with a loud bang.

“Hey!” Frankie barks, but you shake your head, and Frankie lets him walk away.

It doesn’t matter what Joel says to you. You couldn’t care less. Because as soon as Frankie starts the car, he’ll drive it straight over to your place, say goodnight without really looking at you, and tomorrow, he’ll pretend that none of this happened. Just like he did before. And as much as you hate that thought, you’re going to have to live with it.

As Joel climbs the stairs to the second-floor landing of the motel, you say, “You’ll want to take me home now, right?” It’s best to get it over with as quickly as possible.

The wood groans again, but this time from Frankie loosening his grip. He takes off his cap and runs his fingers through his ruffled curls. You don’t look at him, but you study him out of the corner of your eye, trying to read his face. He puts the cap back on, then slings his arm across the backrest of your seat. “Actually … I was hopin’ you’d come back to my place.”

The nausea you’ve been feeling pricks up its ears with interest and then curls up into a tiny ball, tugged away in a corner of your stomach. “Oh?” you say. And that’s all you manage before he closes the distance between you, his left hand cupping your jaw, his lips brushing against yours, tentatively, asking for permission. You give it to him by fisting his shirt, pulling him toward you, by smiling against his lips, exhaling all the tension in one short giggle, full of relief. He strokes his thumb across your cheek at the same time as you open up for him so he can brush his tongue against yours. You find yourself mirroring him, hand on his cheek, thumb running over the stubble there, relishing the feeling of him being so close.

You pull away first, and he follows you, mouth slightly open, chasing another taste. “What are we gonna do at your place? Do you have more friends who want to fuck me while you watch?” you ask, high from the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, from that promise that he won’t forget about any of this in the morning.

A neon flash lights up Frankie’s face, once, twice, as you watch his cheeks darken with a flush. He takes his time, studying your face closely. “No,” he says, his voice a low rumble, so unfamiliar it draws a smile from him, “I want to fuck you myself.”

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dividers by @saradika-graphics

[thetriumphantpanda]

two for the price of one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Tommy has always been the loyal and doting boyfriend, the literal man of your dreams. Ready to take things to the next step, you soon find that Tommy is unable to have children. A family is all you've ever wanted, and neither of you are going to let this get in your way. Enter Joel, dark and mysterious and willing to do anything for his little brother, including fucking his girlfriend to get her pregnant. That's what brothers are for, right?

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader & Tommy Miller x F!Reader

Warnings | Like, I literally don't even know anymore. Tommy is a cuck in this one, Joel is a dirty talking menace. Pre/No Outbreak AU. Talk of infertility, mention of consuming alcohol, Breeding kink, girlfriend sharing, masterbation (M), oral (F receiving), unprotected PiV sex, creampie, plenty of dirty talk, praise kink.

Word Count | 4.2k

Authors Note | I just want to shoutout the anon who left this request in my inbox. It rotted my brain and now we're here. Special shoutout to the JFC - specifically @sinsofsummers for telling me I could do this and @dinsdjrn and @cavillscurls for their help with some of the dialogue here. This is just filth. Pure unadulterated filth. Enjoy.

That damn piece of paper was haunting you, even from its place deep in the drawer where Tommy had stuffed it when he’d opened it and showed you. Its words telling you what you’d both anticipated but had wanted to prove wrong. Tommy. Infertile. Dashing those hopes of your beautiful babies with thick curls and big, beautiful eyes. He’d taken it hard, like it was an abject failure of his own manhood – the one thing he should be able to do beyond anything else, give you the child you so desperately yearned for, he couldn’t. 

There was a week of tension, where you treaded on eggshells, trying not to bring it up, despite desperately wanting to discuss other options. Then came his acceptance of his emotions, late at night, curled up behind you in bed. It started with a light sniffle, then you could feel his tears drip onto the skin of your shoulders, then the whole-body sobs as he held you, told you he was sorry. You’d turned in his arms, wrapped your arms around his neck and held him, whispering softly that it was okay, that it didn’t matter, that you had options. You could still have a family, just perhaps not in the traditional sense. 

Then came the weeks of appointments. You’d met with an adoption agency first. They’d talked you through the application process, what they expected of you, talked about the type of family you want, but Tommy had been adamantly against it for your first child. He wanted something borne of your blood, of your flesh, even if it wasn’t his that joined it. 

Then there were the medical appointments talk of special drugs Tommy could take, or the possibility of IVF, even a sperm donor. It had started to look like these could be an option until the cost was placed in front of you. There was no way either of you could afford it, not even together, not even if you sold the house for something smaller. You’d reached the end of the line with no answers and the thought that you’d have to resign yourself to being childless. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? You could take all the love you’d wrapped up for a baby and put it somewhere else. You could love your niece Sarah harder, give some of it to the children you worked with each day at the school – you didn’t need to be a mother to feel complete. The longer you sat with it though, the more you felt something missing. The end of the line was frustrating and lonely. That was, until Tommy came up with an alternative. 

It's late on a Thursday evening. You’ve just cleaned up from dinner and you’re lounging on the couch with Tommy’s arms wrapped around you, your head resting on one of his shoulders. 

“Can I ask you somethin’?” He muses above, settling his lips on the crown of your head. 

“Always.” You squeeze the hand you’re resting on his thigh. 

“What if we ask Joel?” 

“To fix the back steps?” You ask, referencing the rotting steps that had needed sorting since winter cleared, “Can’t you just do it yourself?” 

“No sugar,” He clears his throat, “Y’know what, forget I said anythin’.” 

“Tommy,” You grumble, pushing yourself off his shoulder, you rest an arm across the back of the couch where he’s sitting, “You can’t just say that and not elaborate.” 

He’s nervous. You can see the bouncing of his knee, something you’d clocked was a nervous habit on your first date. He’s also running a hand along the back of his neck, exactly what he always does when he’s got to say something difficult. You can also see the start of prickles of sweat on his brow. He’s not just nervous, he’s uncomfortable. You rest a hand on his shoulder, the way he’d taught you to do it when you’d first met, when he was still grappling with the anxiety and PTSD of being a veteran. 

“I’m worried I’m gonna scare you, sugar.” 

You run a hand through his thick head of curls, “Tommy, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Promise to just hear me out before freaking out, okay?” 

You stick your pinky up, motioning for him to join his own with yours, “Pinky swear, Tommy Miller.” 

 “What if we ask Joel, you know….” He trails off, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he searches for the words he needs, “Fuck, I don’t even know how to say it.” 

“Just take a deep breath and say it all at once.” 

He takes a deep breath in like you instructed, blowing it out through his mouth, “What if we ask Joel to help with gettin’ you pregnant?” 

It takes a minute for what he’s said to properly sink it. Your first train of thought, stupidly, is that Joel is a carpenter, not a doctor, so there’s no possible way he’s qualified to help with this. Then it washes over you all at once. Heat prickling at your cheeks, breath hitching in your throat, you think you might be sick. 

“You want me to sleep with your brother?” You ask, tone coming out far more accusatory than intended, you soften your expression and squeeze his shoulder when you notice how hurt he looks. 

“Well, it certainly ain’t my first option, or the second and third for that matter,” He sighs, “Look, it was stupid, forget I asked.” 

He moves to get up from the couch, but you’re dragging him back down, fingers gripped around his wrist, “It’s not stupid Tommy, but you gotta help me understand how this is an option.” 

He’s looking at you now, big brown eyes with a hint of sadness staring into your own. He cups your cheek in one of his palms, “I know how bad you want this sugar, how much you want a family,” He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “And I’m sorry I can’t give that to you, sorry we can’t afford the fancy drugs that would make this easier,” He sighs deeply, “The only option we have is to do somethin’ like this, and if I’m gonna let another man touch you, I want it to be someone I trust, and he’s the only person I would ever trust with this,” He rubs a hand over his face, “Least I know it might have a chance of lookin’ somethin’ like me too, instead of goddamn Steven from Ohio or whoever they’d use.” 

You feel your gut twist when he speaks. This absolutely batshit crazy idea is actually coming from an incredible place of care. He knows you want a child; lord knows you were trying your hardest together to make it happen before that damn piece of paper had to go and ruin it all. 

“You wouldn’t find it weird, knowing I’d had sex with your brother?” 

“Well, it doesn’t mean anythin’, does it baby?” 

“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” You shrug, it was just a means to an end, “You think he’ll agree?” 

“I don’t know baby,” He answers honestly, wrapping you back into his arms, “I’ll take him out this weekend, ask him and see what he thinks.” 

There’s still something here that doesn’t sit right with you. Sure, it makes sense, and of all the people who you could choose for yourself you’d probably have settled on Joel too. Stoic and sensible Joel, brooding and grumpy Joel. He’d always been kind, had welcomed you into the family with open arms, praised you multiple times for finally keeping his brother on the straight and narrow. He was a good man, loved his little girl with all his heart, would never hurt a hair on your head, but you were still uncomfortable. 

“If he does agree,” You shift nervously on the couch, “I want you to be there.” 

“You don’t trust him?” 

“No, of course I trust him Tommy,” You sigh, “I’d just feel more comfortable if you were there.” 

“Anythin’ for you, sugar.” 

It’s early on Sunday morning when Tommy rolls into bed, 3am to be exact, smelling of whiskey to tell you he’s finally asked Joel to help you. He slinks onto bed and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing over your neck and down your shoulder to wake you. When you finally grumble and admit you’re very muchawake now, with his hand gripping your hip, he’s speaking in a hushed whisper. 

“He said yes.” 

“He take much convincing?” You ask, shuffling around in his arms so you’re facing him, his face gripped in your palms. 

“He was wary, thought I’d lost my mind for a good few minutes,” Tommy leans forward, pressing a kiss to your lips, “Told him it was my idea and you’d thought the same, but he came around, think he knows how much we both want this.” 

A part of you had thought he’d say no. That there was no way that stoic, sensible Joel would ever consider sleeping with his brother’s girlfriend in order to knock her up, but he’d proved himself a man of many surprises before. As Tommy presses kisses to your lips and settles you both to sleep, there’s the bubbling of nerves in your belly, of doubt. Are you really doing the right thing? Is this going to make the dynamic between the three of you awkward as hell? Sure, you’re all grown adults and this is just a means to an end, but there’s still the unknown of what comes after.  

Tommy goes out that morning and brings back a bag, filled with ovulation tests and, perhaps a little prematurely, pregnancy tests. You do one of the ovulation tests that morning and as expected, the screen shows a sad face, gratefully showing you that you still have time to prepare for what you’re going to do. Three days later when you do the test again, there’s a grinning happy face, almost taunting you that it’s time to face the music. You show the test to Tommy, who places a palm on the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his lips. He murmurs that he’ll tell Joel, and that’s how not even twenty-four hours later, it really is time to bite the bullet. 

It's late, Joel having insisted that he needed to make sure Sarah was settled and asleep before he came over. You’re sitting at the foot of the bed, legs dangling aimlessly whilst you wait. You really had no idea how this was going to play out, so you’d dressed yourself in a simple cotton nightdress, silk robe tied around your middle for extra coverage. There was an empty whiskey tumbler on the nightstand. You’d had three, maybe four? Enough to take the edge off, but not too much that you weren’t aware of what was happening. 

You hear the doorbell chime and then Tommy’s heavy footsteps downstairs as he opens the door. You can hear his voice and Joel’s mingling together, but you can’t decipher what either are saying. You probably don’t want too either. What could two brothers’ possibly have to say to each other when one is getting ready to sleep with the others girlfriend? You listen to them talk for a bit before you can hear two sets of feet ascending the stairs. You stand from the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself for another layer of comfort when there’s a knock at the door. 

“Come in!” You call, bouncing nervously from foot to foot. 

The door swings open and Joel is stood there, dressed in his usual attire, dark wash jeans and a black t-shirt, work boots obviously discarded downstairs, Tommy knew you hated people tracking dirt into the house. He takes a moment to take the sight of you in and you think you must look ridiculous, silk robe making way to bare legs – it had seemed like such a good idea at the time, he could just push the material up, do what he needed to do and be gone, but now you wonder if it looks like you’re trying to seduce him. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Joel’s voice is soft and when you look into his eyes, they are too, and it does put you at some ease, “C’mere.” He’s motioning for you to step closer, opening his arms so he can pull you into a hug. 

You’ve hugged Joel hundreds of times before this, in much the same way. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders, the other squeezing into the middle of your back. It’s usually friendly, meaningless really, but when you take in the press of his broad frame, you can’t help but realise you’re going to know him far more intimately than you’d ever imagined by the end of the night. 

He releases you and you’re semi-aware that Tommy has slunk into the room behind his brother, he’s leaning against the wall as he watches Joel take hold of your hand, guiding you back to sit on the bed where you had been before. God, you think, he’s not wasting his time, he wants this to be over just as much as I do. You look up at his broad frame towering over you, if this was anyone else, you’d be intimidated, but he’s still got that soft look to his brown eyes. He shocks you next, cupping your jaw in his hand and running his calloused thumb over your bottom lip. 

He turns his head to Tommy, “You wanna tell me what she likes?” 

Oh. Oh. You’d expected something much more clinical than this. You’d never imagined he’d work to make sure you enjoyed it. You also turn your head in Tommy’s direction. He’s still leant against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other with his arms crossed. 

“She likes getting her pussy eaten, don’t you baby?” 

Joel is gently coaxing your face back to look at him, staring directly into your eyes, “That right, darlin’?” You look up at him as you nod, mouth open a little in shock, “Wanna make sure you enjoy this,” He’s saying, “Gonna take real good care of you.” 

Then, he’s dropping to his knees at the front of the bed, shifting so your legs are draped over his wide shoulders. Whilst Joel is focused on kissing trails from your knee, slowly up the expanse of your thigh, you look to Tommy, who has moved from the wall to sit in the small chair in the corner of the room that you would usually use to read in. He gives you a nod and a small smile, silently telling you to enjoy yourself. Your turn your attention back to Joel between your legs, who has slowly hitched up the cotton of your nightdress to pool at your hips, exposing your pussy to him. 

You can feel his hot breath skittering across your skin and there’s an anticipation building that you hadn’t expected. You’re moving your hips, almost subconsciously, to chase the relief you know his mouth was about to bring. Joel has his big palms on your hips then, holding you steady before he’s licking up the length of your pussy, tongue dipping ever so gently between your folds to find your clit. You let out a shaky breath that you hadn’t noticed you were even holding in, then Joel is moving again, tongue dipping into the entrance of your pussy, licking all the way up again before he’s laser focused on your clit. 

Your hands instinctively rake through his hair, gripping the strands between your fingers to keep him in place as he uses the tip of his tongue to run tight, wet circles to your bundle of nerves. You’re propping yourself up with a hand on the mattress behind you whilst the other keeps its place locking in Joel’s hair. Then, you’re actually grinding your pussy into his mouth, desperate for more but scared to ask for it. 

“It’s okay baby,” You hear Tommy speak from his place on the chair, “We want you to feel good, don’t be shy about askin’.” 

You look down between your thighs and see Joel looking up at you, mouth still latched to your aching pussy, “Joel,” You groan, “Fingers, please.” 

“So polite, darlin’.” He murmurs against your skin before he’s doing as you asked. 

He’s still showering your clit with attention, the sounds of his literal slurping doing nothing to stop the flush of arousal you’re feeling right now, as he pushes two of his thick fingers inside your slick cunt. You don’t know what you’d expected of Joel in this kind of scenario, perpetually single Joel, who never really seemed interested in anyone. You knew now, as he was curling those fingers inside of you, pressing into the spot that had you crying out and gripping his hair tighter than ever, that it wasn’t because of his abilities that he was single. 

“Fuck, holy shit Joel, I think….” 

“You gonna come for him baby?” You hear Tommy ask from the corner of the room. 

“I think…” You let out a sharp cry, “Don’t stop.” 

And he doesn’t. He keeps thrusting his fingers into your pussy, tongue still running those tight circles over your bud, but now he latches his lips around it and sucks, actually sucks at your clit. You’re lost. Your elbow buckles and you collapse on your back onto the bed, crying out a string of expletives as Joel works you through your high. Pleasure has burst across your skin, finding every single possible nerve ending and setting you on fire, your thighs are gripping his face as you ride out the last of the shuddering aftershocks on his fingers, pussy walls fluttering around them as you try and catch your breath. 

You can feel Joel recoiling from between your thighs. You can hear the sound of him undoing his belt and then it clattering to the floor. You use your weak arms to push yourself up the length of the bed, head settling in the pile of pillows at the top. You turn your face to Tommy and gasp, hunger igniting in your belly at what you see. Somewhere in the middle of Joel shattering your world between your thighs, Tommy has shucked his jeans and underwear down just enough to free his cock. He’s using his fist to work himself in slow strokes at the sight of you. 

You can feel Joel’s body clambering onto the mattress with you, settling between your thighs with his wide hips spreading your legs an obscene amount to accommodate him. He’s taking hold of your jaw in his hand, dragging your attention back to his face, “You’re fuckin’ me tonight pretty girl,” He growls, “Eyes on me.” 

It isn’t a torturous job by any means. Joel is weathered, his skin holding the early sign of wrinkles at his eyes, beard starting to grey, but you can’t deny that he’s handsome. Especially when he’s looking at you with eyes that are begging to devour you. He sits back on his knees, taking hold of the belt that is keeping your robe shut across your body to undo the loose knot you’d tied in it. He’s dragging you up by a wrist just far enough to shuck the material from your shoulders, laying you back down to play with the straps of your nightdress. 

“Can I undress you properly, darlin’?” He asks. 

You gulp. Finally noticing that he’s stripped to just his boxers, outline of his incredibly hard cock visible when you let your eyes drag down that far. 

“Go on baby,” Tommy encourages from across the room, “Let him see how beautiful you are.” 

Your eyes are back to holding court with Joel’s own and you nod. He’s pulling you up by the wrist again, sitting you up so he can drag that final bit of material off your body. You lie back down and watch as his eyes drag over every single inch of your skin. 

“Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.” 

He’s got those wide palms dragging down the curves of your sides, holding you in place to just watch you for a second before he’s hooking his thumbs into his underwear and dragging them down his thighs, freeing his cock. He’s fisting himself a few times before he hooks your knees over his arms and slides himself into your waiting cunt. 

It’s all you can do to let out a high-pitched moan at the intrusion, but fuck he feels good. You look up at his face, eyes closed and breathing deeply as he stills inside you once he’d buried in you to the hilt. 

“So fucking tight, darlin’,” He groans as he pulls himself almost all the way out before starting the long, torturous thrust back inside you, “So fuckin’ perfect, ain’t ya?” 

“Fuck Joel,” You throw your head back into the pillow, “Feel so good inside me.” 

He’s picking up the pace now, thrusting into you in earnest now. The angle he’s got you folded into means his cock in brushing that fucking spot inside you that is driving you crazy, raising goosebumps and setting you on fire, drawing high-pitched whines from your throat whenever he finds it. 

“Touch yourself baby,” You hear Tommy’s throaty request, you don’t dare look at him for fear of the sight of him finishing you off, “Joel’s gonna want you to come on his cock, so show him what a good girl you can be.” 

Joel is already circling your wrist with his hand, dragging your fingers to your pussy as he watches where his cock disappears inside you. Your own movements are sloppy but the slick that Joel’s mouth has dragged from you make the movement of circles on your own engorged and sensitive clit easy. It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit you, clenching your pussy around Joel’s hard cock which hasn’t let up for a single second since he started pounding into you. 

“She’s so fuckin’ pretty, Tommy,” Joel’s voice is low and husky above you, almost desperately so, “So fuckin’ pretty when she comes like that.” 

“Don’t I know it, brother.” You hear his strangled reply. 

Joel is all of a sudden flipping you on the bed, your legs straddling his hips, palms planted on his chest to steady yourself. 

“Take what you want darlin’,” He’s groaning, “Ride my cock and knock yourself up.” 

You do just that, grinding your hips backwards and forwards on his cock with your fingers digging halfmoon shapes into the meat of his chest as you lean forward, bouncing on his cock in earnest. 

His palms are gripping the globes of your ass, knees coming up to rest on your bare skin as he starts fucking up into you, meeting your thrusts halfway. The sounds of your skin slapping together is obscene but oh so delicious. 

“You like when my brother fucks you like that?” Tommy’s deep voice draws your attention to him, he’s still got his cock in his hand but he’s thrusting up into it and you can tell just by the look on his face that he’s close. 

You look him dead in the eyes, breathy moan falling from your lips when you say, “I fucking love it, Tommy.” 

It all happens at once. Tommy is moaning and you can see him start to spill across his hand. Then Joel is gripping your hips, stilling your movements as you feel him start to come inside you, filling you up with his cum, your name falling from his mouth with a tangle of expletives built in for good measure. 

“Fuckin’ take it, pretty girl.” Joel is growling from beneath you, pushing his cock impossibly deep inside you like he’s begging your pussy to soak it all up, to get it to take. 

The room is silent save for the sounds of the three of you trying to catch your breath. You collapse, somewhat unceremoniously off Joel’s body and onto the mattress, placing an arm over your eyes to try and calm yourself down. Why the fuck was that so hot? Is all you can think. You’re only semi-aware of him shifting and gathering his things, only semi-aware of Tommy cleaning his hand off on his jeans to re-dress himself. You’re almost asleep when you feel the press of a kiss to your cheek, opening your eyes to find it was in fact Joel who did it, thumb running soothing circles across the skin of your hip. 

“Thank you.” You say meekly, reaching up to cup his face in your palm. 

“My pleasure, darlin’,” He smiles down at you, “I hope it helps.” 

Then he’s gone, following Tommy out of the bedroom and back down the stairs. You can, once again hear their muted voices, but this time, instead of setting you on edge, it lulls you to sleep. By the time Tommy comes back, climbs into bed and spoons you from behind, you’re almost asleep. 

“Did so fuckin’ good for me baby,” He murmurs into your ear, “So fuckin’ proud of you.”

Through the haze of sleep taking over you, you manage to mumble out, “Hope it works.” 

He chuckles, his body shaking your own where he has you wrapped in his embrace, “Me too baby, me too.” 

Within minutes you’re asleep. So asleep that you don’t feel his hand resting above your womb, silently praying that sooner, rather than later, he’s going to start feeling you swell there. Silently thanking the good lord for giving him such an understanding brother and a girl willing to do anything for him. 

[milla-frenchy]

Oh my gooooooood 🥵🥵🥵🥵

Homecoming (Joel Miller x f!reader x Frankie Morales)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader x Frankie Morales, no outbreak!Joel Miller

Summary: Frankie asks his neighbor to keep an eye on things while he's in South America.

“I think that’s what he wants,” Joel finally speaks. His voice is low and dark, his eyes narrow. He’s talking to you but he’s looking right at Frankie. “I think when he asked me to look after you, he was hoping to come home to that. To see his woman treated right by another man. Tell me I ain’t right.”

Words: 5.6k

Rating: E 18+

Warnings: Frankie has to watch, he likes it, cuckolding, dom Joel, oral sex, voyeurism, orgasm denial, hand job, mentions of Frankie's addiction, toxic relationship, Frankie kind of sucks (canon, I said what I said), Joel steal your girl Miller (I'm sure I forgot some, let me know!)

a/n: I'll be honest, I don't see how Frankie was coming home to anything other than divorce papers after leaving his lady with a new baby (suggesting other babies!?) and giving all of his money away. Let's torment him!

As always thanks to @ezrasbirdie for the beta. Consider this my toxic Catalyst verse.

MASTERLIST - follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

--

Frankie drums his fingers on his thigh. Flight leaves in an hour and he’s thinking about the front door. 

He should be thinking about this gig. It’s risky as hell. If things go sideways, they’ll be completely fucked in the jungle with a narco on their ass. The money’s good but there are a hundred ways it could get hairy. 

But you had a bad habit of leaving the front door unlocked. You’d done it just the day before when you picked the baby up from daycare. 

“Christ, Frankie. My hands were full, ok?” you said when he mentioned it.

“Just don’t forget while I’m gone. You’ll be alone with the kids and I don’t want the house to be wide open,” he said. 

“If you’re so worried about us, don’t go,” you said.

You’d given him a raft of shit about it. Leaving you with a baby and a three year old and no help. 

“You promised me you were done doing stupid shit,” you said. 

He’s promised you a lot of things. 

You’re still so pissed that when he kissed Franny and the baby goodbye, you barely acknowledged he was leaving. 

Which means if something does happen, you’ll never forgive him. He’s biting on the side of his thumb when he reaches for his phone.  

 …I’m going out of town for a bit but I’d feel a lot better if you’d just keep an eye on things…

He shoots the text off to his neighbor. Frankie doesn’t know him all that well—they’ve shared some beers at backyard barbecues— but he’s a good guy. His daughter babysits Franny all the time. Frankie feels a little better. At least you’ll be safe while he’s not there. 

—

When Joel sees you a few days after he gets the text from Frankie, he knows you’re going through it. 

You’re juggling a diaper bag, keys, and a water bottle while trying to lug the car seat up the front walk. The humidity isn’t doing anything kind to your hair and he’s pretty sure he saw you wearing the same yoga pants and oversized t-shirt the day before. Your daughter is whining about something he can’t quite make out from his driveway. She hovers around you doing dramatic, exasperated stomps. 

He remembers Sarah at that age. It was hard enough to be a single parent to one, he can’t imagine how you’re doing it with two even if it’s just temporary. 

Joel has to admit, he’d be looking over at you even if Frankie hadn’t asked. He likes you. You always ask about Sarah and even remember her birthday. When she stays late babysitting, you stand at the door and watch to make sure she gets in safe even though she’s just crossing the yard. And he’ll admit it, you’re attractive. He knows you’re spoken for but  he can’t help the way his eyes linger when you’re bent over the back seat vacuuming up cheerios. 

“Maybe when daddy gets back,” Joel hears you say. You’re out of breath but trying to keep a light air in your voice. 

“But when is he coming home?” she complains. 

The little girl tugs on your arm and the carefully balanced tower in your hand topples to the ground, the bottle making an especially loud clang that sets the baby off crying. 

“Franny!” you snap. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Franny says. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose. Joel watches your chest rise and fall, one deep breath to collect yourself. He imagines that you’re counting to ten in your head as he’s done a thousand times.  

“I know, mija,” you say. 

You run a hand over your messy hair and begin collecting your keys from the grass. Joel’s sure you’re on the edge of tears. 

“You need a hand?” he calls over. 

You’re startled when you look over at him. Maybe you’d been so focused on getting everybody into the house, you hadn’t even noticed he was in his yard. Your brows knit together and it looks like you’ve been clenching your jaw for hours. Finally, your shoulders lower slightly and Joel feels like he’s lifted the weight right off of you just by asking. 

“Yeah, actually,” you say. 

—

Motherhood is torture. Even on the good days. You’re covered in spit up and boogers and sticky lollipop sugar. Your eyes are ringed from sleep deprivation. Most meals are the sandwich crusts Franny refuses to eat. 

But what really gets to you is the noise. Franny is a chatterbox, the baby is always at an 11, and the house is full of plastic toys that each play a series of increasingly infuriating songs. Even the white noise machine feels like taking a cheese grater to your ears. 

It’s not so bad when you can share the load. But Frankie’s gone. He’s been gone more and more often. A stint in rehab. Pounding the pavement for a new job. Now off with Pope and the guys being weekend warriors. You’ve lost count of the number of second chances you’ve given him.

You’re just about to lose your shit when Joel calls over to you. He’s a godsend. He carries the carseat into the house for you and has Sarah come over to help keep Franny entertained. He insists you take a shower– something you haven’t had time to do in three days– and when you come back into the kitchen, you nearly burst into tears when you see he’s done the dishes.

The kids are in bed now and Sarah’s gone back next door to do homework. Joel sets grilled cheese sandwiches on the table for the two of you and you give him one of Frankie’s beers. 

“A little crispy,” Joel says as way of apology for the bread that’s absolutely blackened. “Cooking’s not really my thing.”

“That’s ok. It’s just nice to have someone else do it for a change,” you say. “Thanks again. And Sarah too. She’s a good kid.”

“She is.” Joel smiles to himself. 

“You raised her right,” you say and his blush is so handsome. 

He’s older than Frankie but just as good looking. Strong arms, narrow waist. The light over the kitchen table picks up all the gray hairs around his temples. He’s definitely not hard to look at after a long day. 

Eventually it comes up.

“So where’s your man off to?” Joel asks innocently enough.

“Fuck if I know,” you grumble. You don’t want to think about him, not now in this nice moment. You weren’t pretending to play house with Joel but you didn’t mind forgetting about Frankie for an hour or two. “Maybe he‘ll do us a favor and stay there.”

You don’t mean it. Years of putting up with his crap has made you bitter, downright mean. 

“He asked me to check in on you while he was gone,” Joel says.

“He did?” you ask and he nods. “I wish you hadn’t told me that.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because every time I decide I’m done with him, he does something sweet and I lose my nerve.”

Joel’s quiet. Probably doesn’t know how to respond to such a personal bombshell when he was just making small talk.

“Sorry. You don’t want to hear my business.”

“Did I say that?” Joel asks. 

You sigh. His eyes are so kind and you’re so goddamn tired.

“He told me three days before that he was going. Doing some Rambo shit with his boys. He said it was going to pay well and I can’t argue with him there because we need the money because he lost his job. Drugs. I couldn’t even call my sister and ask for her help this week because I was so embarrassed. You know how many times she’s told me to dump his ass? And I should, you know. I’ve got nobody to blame but myself.”

By now, you can feel tears coming. You’re so angry with Frankie and you’re mad at yourself. You can’t imagine what Joel must think— that you’re an idiot, that you’re weak. 

But he cups your chin in his big hand. He’s got a deep crease between his eyebrows and, the way he’s looking at you, you feel like someone’s seeing you for the first time in years. “That’s not true. You don’t deserve any of that.” 

The air feels thick between you and you feel so fucking grateful for the words he’s just said. 

You kiss him, practically falling into his lips. He’s been so damn good to you and it’s been so long since you’ve felt taken care of. And he kisses you back. He pulls you into him. His thumb strokes your cheek and he opens his mouth to you. You can taste the beer on his tongue and it’s familiar. You’ve tasted it a thousand times on Frankie. 

You realize what you’re doing. You’re sick of Frankie’s shit but he’s still your partner, the father of your children. Maybe this is really the last straw and you’ll finally end it with him but you haven’t yet. You’ve always considered yourself the better person, the bigger one, who put the kids first and doesn’t keep secrets. You don’t get to act all morally superior if you’re cheating on Frankie. 

You break away and slap a hand over your mouth. 

“Fuck. Shit. I’m sorry,” you say. 

“No. That’s alright.” Joel’s blinking like he’s trying to make sense of what just happened. “My fault. I came on too strong there. You’re having a bad day. I didn’t mean to take advantage.”

“I want to but I shouldn’t,” you tell him. You’ve never felt so mixed up in your life. “I guess I’ve got some thinking to do.”

Joel stands. “Listen, why don’t I get out of here. You can go to bed early.”

You’re mortified. He’s practically running away because you’re acting like a maniac. This man was kind to you for a minute and you blew it. 

“Sorry again. Thank you,” you add as an afterthought. 

He lingers in the doorway. 

“Why don’t I bring Sarah back tomorrow if you’re still needing help? Promise I can keep my hands to myself,” he says with a little chuckle. “Unless…maybe you just want Sarah?” He’s jiggling his hand nervously. 

You feel the faintest relief. You want him to come back. Not just for kissing purposes. He made you feel less alone. 

“That’s be great. Both of you,” you say. 

He gives you a sweet smile before leaving you to bury your face in your hands. 

—

Frankie knows what to expect when he gets back. When he finally got cell service, you’d sent it his call straight to voicemail. He couldn’t blame you. He’d all but disappeared. And now he was returning home with nothing to show for it. 

It’s not like this is the first time. He’s slept on Will and Benny’s couch more than once, come home to an empty house with a note on the kitchen table that you took Franny to your friend’s place. Don’t call until you get your shit together. 

He’s got a whole speech in his head that he’s been thinking about for days. He wishes that he could tell you how close he’d come to death and how much he wants to turn things around but even he knows how hollow those words sound. This time he’s going to make it up to you. 

It’s dark when he gets in. The house is quiet. He’s nervous again, jingling his keys in his hand. You’re sitting at the kitchen table which means he’s in deep shit. He’s ready to launch into his monologue but Frankie’s thrown off when he sees his neighbor sitting beside you. 

“Is everything ok?” he asks, eyes darting between you and your guest. His mind immediately goes to the darkest places, worse things than the failure of your relationship. 

“No, Frankie,” you say. 

“Did something happen to the baby?” Adrenaline floods him for what must be the millionth time since he last stood in this room. 

You sigh. “The kids are fine. They’re next door. Sarah’s watching them.”

“Oh.”

There’s a long pause where Frankie tries to recollect everything he was going to tell you, all of the promises he’d really keep this time. All he can think about is the fact that Joel’s sitting there looking at him like he’s a piece of shit. Frankie pushes up the brim of his hat to rub his forehead.

“Do I have to say it?” you ask. You look as exhausted as he feels. “I can’t do this any more.”

“I know,” Frankie says. 

The guilt has made his throat go dry. He’s fucked up so many things. He remembers the last time you were sitting there, the little bag of white powder you’d found in his jacket resting on the table.

“You said you were extending the trip. I haven’t heard from you in a week,” you go on. 

“Can we talk about this alone, baby?” he asks. 

“No I don’t think so,” you tell him. 

It’s hard enough to face the fact that he’s five minutes from losing you with without someone gawking. He shifts awkwardly. 

“Can you give us a minute, man?” Frankie tries. 

“Stay,” you tell Joel. 

You put your hand on his upper arm and Frankie feels sick. He can tell just by that touch that Joel’s not just your shoulder to cry on. It boils in his gut. 

“You’re going to do this in front of a stranger?” Frankie asks. It comes out louder than he meant. He’s got no business being angry. Not when he drove you away. But it’s suddenly not so easy to own up to his own failures. 

“Frankie,” you say, level and quiet. 

Joel crosses his arms and it feels like a warning. If Frankie doesn’t get his emotions in check, he will. Frankie’s almost tempted to test him. It would feel good to get hit. 

“What’s this? Did you fuck him?” he asks. 

Frankie wants to hear you say yes, to feel the knife slide in and twist. 

“I didn’t,” you snap back. “But I wish I had.” You look like you want to stuff them back into your mouth but you raise your chin defiantly. 

The words rattle around in Frankie’s ears. It hurts just the way he thought it would, imagining you spread out over this man’s lap. 

There’s another feeling, too. He can’t name it. There’s a place where jealousy turns into violence but somehow it’s taken a left turn to self loathing. You deserve to have someone to make you feel good and Frankie, well, he’s hitting rock bottom again. 

“I think that’s what he wants,” Joel finally speaks. His voice is low and dark, his eyes narrow. He’s talking to you but he’s looking right at Frankie. “I think when he asked me to look after you, he was hoping to come home to that. To see his woman treated right by another man.”

Frankie’s glaring at him but his breath shallows. The gravel in Joel’s voice goes straight to his groin. It’s twisted and he ought to punch Joel right in the mouth. Instead he’s frozen in place wondering why the blood is rushing to his cock. 

Joel stands lazily and takes two steps to cross the distance between them. His eyes travel up Frankie’s body, slow, dangerous, until he meets his gaze. He’s mere inches away, close enough that Frankie can smell the clean scent of his soap.

“Tell me I ain’t right,” Joel says. 

—

You’re on your feet in a flash to pull Joel away before they can come to blows but then you spy the growing bulge in Frankie’s pants. Your eyes go wide. Suddenly you're flooded with arousal though you can’t explain why. It should piss you off but you can’t help but imagine the look on his face if he’d walked in on you riding Joel in his own bed. You want to see it. 

Before a cooler head prevails, you’re pulling Joel by the hand down the hall to your bedroom. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Frankie asks, following behind. 

“Looks like you’re getting your wish,” Joel says. 

Frankie stands there gaping but he doesn’t do anything to stop you. 

“You can stay there and watch or you can leave,” you tell him. That last word has a heavy finality to it. This isn’t like the other times when you took him back. He’s not coming home again. 

Frankie says nothing, just shuts his mouth. 

“You want to do this, sweetheart?” Joel asks. His tone is gentle. 

You’re breathless. You’ve been fantasizing about fucking Joel since he swooped in and saved you. Behind Frankie’s back, maybe, not right in front of his face. But you want him to see, to know exactly what he lost each time he fucked up. You want to punish him. 

“Yes,” you say and your eyes fall on Frankie. 

His expression is a strange mixture of hunger and melancholy. Those sweet brown eyes are always what make you take him back no matter how much he’s hurt you. 

“Pretend he’s not here,” Joel says, guiding your face back to him with his fingertips. 

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” you say. It feels so good to be cruel. 

“Good girl.” 

His praise makes your mouth twitch into a smile.

“Tell him to take his clothes off,” you say.  

 Joel’s brows tick up. 

“You heard her. Show her how hard you got,” he says. 

“You fucking kidding?” Frankie asks but his words are toothless. 

“You can go right now,” you say. 

Frankie’s jaw shifts, grinding his molars. As he hesitates, Joel grabs the brim of his hat and pulls it off of Frankie’s curls. He examines the old thing with disinterest, then tosses it to the floor. 

“Strip,” he demands. 

The command makes you clench. 

Joel turns his attention back to you once Frankie’s reluctantly begun to work at the buttons of his shirt. He brushes your cheekbone with the back of his knuckles, the pad of his thumb on your lips. 

“Been thinking about kissing you since the other day,” he tells you. 

His lips brush against yours, his nose nuzzling your cheek. The prickle of his mustache makes you gasp. 

“Went home and thought about doing more than kissing you,” he says. 

Your cheeks heat. He gives you a good, proper kiss now, pulling you in with a hand on your waist. It’s deep and slow, practically romantic though you’re in a situation that feels quite the opposite. Either way, you’re left swooning a little, tangling your fingers into his full hair so your knees don't buckle. 

Frankie’s completely bare and Joel glances in his direction. His eyebrows lift momentarily when he catches sight of Frankie’s erection then he scoffs quietly and goes back to kissing you. He gets his hands under your shirt and slides it over your head. 

You can feel Frankie’s eyes dancing over the two of you. You crack yours open to look at him while you let Joel’s tongue into your mouth. It’s like he’s watching a car crash and he can’t look away— horrified, exhilarated, disgusted. It feels as sinful as Joel’s mouth traveling down your neck. 

You want Frankie to know just how badly you want this so you snake your hand down to palm at Joel’s cock straining against his jeans. He’s big, more than a handful. Joel groans against your collar bone. Frankie winces. 

Joel’s touch leaves goosebumps on your skin. He trails his fingers down your chest and teases around the fabric of your bra. You unhook it and toss it aside then wriggle out of your pants. He lets out a low hum at the sight of you exposed. 

“I’d hate to be the man that let this gorgeous thing get away,” Joel says. 

He cups your breast, then puts his mouth to it. His teeth graze against your nipple and you hear Frankie hiss before you do. 

Joel sits down on the bed, the one you’ve shared with Frankie for years, and draws you down to his lips. As he kisses you, his forefingers notch in the waistband of your panties and drags them down painfully slowly. He’s drawing it out for his audience, inch by inch before dropping them to the floor. His eyes look over the newly revealed flesh hungrily. The heat of his gaze and Frankie’s longing stare has you slick and needy. 

Joel turns you around and sits you between his legs. He pulls you into his chest and spreads your legs wide, putting you on display for Frankie. His fingers strum at you, feather light and your hips buck. 

“Fuck,” you sigh. 

“Sensitive,” he says. 

His stubble bites into your shoulder as he continues to touch you, carefully, finding the spots that make you melt. You tip your head back into him, tuck your face into the crook of his neck as you  begin to lose yourself to pleasure. He smells so good— earthy and fresh and masculine. You want his scent all over your sheets. 

“Come here. On your knees,” Joel commands. 

Frankie swears under his breath but he obeys, kneeling in front of you, his nostrils flaring as he watches you writhe under Joel’s touch. 

“Open up,” Joel says and swats at Frankie’s cheek. 

It doesn’t seem like he used much force but still you say, “Don’t hurt him.”

None of the scars you have from Frankie are physical. 

“That’s okay,” Frankie mumbles. 

You’re surprised by him once again. He wants it, the full force of this torture. 

“Yeah. She’s too nice to you,” Joel tells him. 

He sticks two thick fingers into Frankie’s mouth, so deep that he gags. Joel returns them to your pussy, sliding one inside. The stretch pulls a dreamy sigh from you as the heel of his hand creates unbelievable friction against your clit.

Frankie’s eyes are riveted to the spot where Joel’s finger disappears inside of you.  

“Hey,” Joel barks. 

You look past the edge of the bed to see Frankie’s hand over his dick, thumb brushing down its length. It’s glazed in strands of precum, desperate. 

“Hold on, beautiful,” Joel says, kissing your neck and removing his hand. He shifts around you on the bed and stands up. 

“Do you think ought to be doing that?” Joel asks. 

You bite down on your lip at the sight of him towering over Frankie, fully clothed while the other man shrinks beneath him like a scolded puppy. 

“Next time you want to touch yourself, think about how you wronged this woman.”

Frankie makes a choked sound and he looks up at you with an apology in his eyes. Your first impulse is to go to him, comfort him, but then you remember why you’re here— the litany of fuck ups you’ve had to suffer. The nights you were home with the baby while Frankie went to Benny’s fights. The money that went up his nose. The excuses you made for him. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. He’ll make it up to you. You know what she likes?” Joel asks him. 

Frankie nods. 

“Show me.”

Frankie moves slowly like he’s worried Joel’s trying to trick him. He puts his lips to you, tongue rounding your clit in the way that always drives you wild. Your head falls back with a long, slow release of breath. There’s no denying how good those luscious strokes feel. If there’s one thing you can count on, it’s Frankie disappointing you and then giving you a mind blowing orgasm as penance. 

As you rock your hips up towards his mouth, he starts to work faster like his life depends on it. Little grunts escape him and the sensation mounts, muscles tensing. 

“Joel,” you whine as if he’s the one that’s making your legs begin to shake. 

Frankie falters for just a second upon hearing the other man’s name. Though he lost that perfect rhythm, knowing you’ve hit him again makes up for it. 

You go inwards, focusing all of your attention on the heat at your core, sure that you’ll break at any moment. 

Suddenly, he’s gone and you gasp, your high stolen away. You look up to see Joel holding Frankie back by the scruff of his neck.

“You don’t get to make her cum,” Joel says. 

If you were disappointed, Frankie looks absolutely devastated to be parted from you. His face is screwed up in torment, his glistening lower lip turned down in a frown. 

Joel casts him aside and takes his place between your thighs. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, hooking his forearms around your open thighs. 

His strokes are different but it feels just as dizzying. You close your eyes and lay back again, melting into his wet mouth. He hums against your lips and you feel it vibrate through your whole body. It’s been such a long time since you’ve felt something wholly different, the newness makes everything you experience heightened. 

It’s not long before your ass is lifting off the sheets, panting and absolutely coming undone. Your tightening around nothing, your legs threatening to snap shut around Joel’s ears. 

You’ve completely forgotten about Frankie in this moment of bliss. Especially when Joel says, “That’s my girl. Deserve to feel like that all the time.” 

He kisses the crease of your thigh and up your belly, putting his lips to every inch of you. 

“You look beautiful, darlin’. Doesn’t she look beautiful?” 

“Yeah.” Frankie’s throat sounds dry like he just crossed a desert. 

A blissful smile softens your face. 

You roll into Joel’s chest and tug on his belt loops, grinding his hips against you. The denim is deliciously rough against your swollen clit and you can feel a damp spot. He wants you. 

“Get these off so you can fuck me,” you say. 

Joel chuckles. “Needy girl.”

He gets up and you see Frankie at the foot of the bed, helpless. You know him well enough to understand that look in his eye that’s begging you not to go all the way. You’ve made your point. Mercy. 

You arch an eyebrow. Does he really think he’s paid the price?

— 

All of the muscles in Frankie’s legs burn. His knees ache. It’s his ego that’s taking a beating. 

He doesn’t have to sit here and watch this. In fact, he probably could’ve stopped this before it even began. But he hasn’t moved an inch. There’s part of him that knows he deserves this torment, another part that enjoys it. So he stays there watching you from a wholly new perspective. 

“What’s her favorite position?” Joel asks as he shucks off his pants. 

You’re watching him strip down eagerly, licking your lips like some kind of hungry beast. You used to look at him like that. 

“She likes it from behind,” Frankie admits. 

Joel’s eyebrows raise and he looks at you for confirmation. You can’t help but giggle. 

“Filthy little thing,” Joel says. 

Frankie’s always thought that too. You drove him wild with the dirty things you asked for. You’d get him hard under the table at the bar, pull him into the bathroom at Will’s place for a quickie. Things haven’t been like that between you for a long time, though. 

Frankie’s eyes rake over Joel’s naked form. His arms are muscular and tan, well built for a man in his 50s. Well endowed, too. He doesn’t want to look but how can he stop himself from comparing his own cock to the one that’s about to fuck you? He doesn’t want to think about the way his mouth waters either. 

“Frankie, you got a condom?” Joel calls. 

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him. “You can cum in me.”

Frankie’s stomach turns but the desire twists in his belly. He can’t wait to be put out of his misery. 

“Fuck,” Joel growls. 

You get on all fours for Joel, ass up in the air, tits swaying just the way Frankie likes. You’re about eye level with him so he’s right there with you when Joel pushes inside of you. You moan, so pretty, and your face strains at the pressure. It’s such an obscene sight— only problem is that he’s not the one giving it to you. His cock still responds, twitching with need. He hates it and he loves it. 

Joel’s swearing, gritting his teeth. His fingers dimple the flesh around your hips with a strong grip. Frankie knows exactly how exquisite it feels to be inside you, surrounded by warm velvet. He wants to be the one who’s hips, thighs are fucking against you, splitting you open and making you shake.

Instead he has to watch. Watch your back arch. Listen to that succulent squelch where your bodies meet. Savor the taste of you still on his tongue. 

And because he wants to touch himself and he’s good at following a command, he thinks about all the times he’s forgotten your anniversary or gotten high before Thanksgiving dinner. It hurts and it feels so good. 

When Joel finishes, he spares Frankie by not doing it inside of you. But Frankie has to see him paint your ass with it, marking you as you touch yourself and whine. 

It stings. You’ve been looking at him like a cockroach and he’s so fucking turned on it’s painful. He’s still throbbing, surprised he hasn’t yet burst from hearing you cum. His cock is swollen, leaking and slick. 

He’s obediently waiting, biting on his lip so hard that he can practically taste blood. Each moment of torment only intensifies the pleasure. 

You’re glowing now, laid out on your side, chest still heaving. Joel’s caging you between his arms, kissing your jaw as you rake your fingers through his hair. He glances at Frankie like he just remembered that he’s there. 

“How does he look?” Joel asks.

“Pathetic,” you say, still out of breath, and give a little laugh.

It makes him ache. 

You stretch your arms over your head luxuriously 

and sigh. “Let him cum.”

Frankie lets out a whimper. You’ve always been so generous with him. You’ve been patient and loved him when he’s made it so damn difficult. He’s never deserved you and he doesn’t deserve to get this release. But fuck he’s never needed it more. 

“You do it,” you tell Joel with a mischievous smile.

He shakes his head with a laugh. 

Frankie swallows thickly when Joel approaches him. He takes Frankie’s chin in his hand, the pad of his thumb grazing against his stubble. From his place on the floor, Frankie can smell you on him. 

“Up,” Joel says. 

He gets to his feet as quickly as he can but it takes some effort. His toes are tingling and even the air moving around his cock as he rises feels unbearable. 

Joel’s near enough that Frankie can feel his breath on his neck. He lets out a moan and shuts his eyes. Joel’s hand closes around him, squeezes the base of his cock and Frankie bucks. 

“You like that Frankie?” he hears you ask. “You like feeling his hands on you?”

He doesn’t know, can’t form words or even thoughts. Frankie’s never been touched by another man before, not like that. He’s so senseless he doesn’t even bother to figure out how he feels about doing this. If that’s what you want for him right now, he’s willing to do it.

Joel tugs at him, his hand rough except for what’s leaked down Frankie’s length. He’s so sensitive, so delirious. 

“She asked you a question.” Joel’s lips are pressed against his ear, the sweat of his chest sticky on Frankie’s back. He sets a steady pace with his strokes. 

Frankie tries to answer but he chokes, sees white behind his eyes. His climax is as violent as a slap in the face. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby,” he babbles as he coats Joel’s fist. 

When the fog lifts and Frankie blinks his vision back into focus, you’re staring at him and Joel with your lips parted. You look turned on and awe struck and exhilarated. Frankie wavers and Joel catches him by the shoulder.  

“You gonna make it?” Joel asks him. 

Frankie can only nod. He feels relieved. Not just from the release. He tries to catch his breath, sitting on the floor. 

“Let me clean you up, sweetheart,” Joel offers. 

“Mm,” you respond. 

Frankie’s left alone. He hears the shower. There’s so much to make sense of and he’s still, quite frankly, delirious. 

He’s shocked when you come out of the bathroom a moment later, your robe hangs in your naked body. He wishes he could touch you but he’s not sure if he still has that privilege. 

You crouch down beside him, a damp washcloth in your hand, and you begin to clean him. It’s warm and soft on his chin and you’re gentle as you mop up his thigh. He’s overcome. Once again you’re so good to him and he’s unworthy. 

Your face is a mix of emotions and he can tell you’re thinking. You’re careful not to meet his eye until you’re finished and when you do, all of the mischief and desire is gone. 

You sigh. 

“You can stay but you’re sleeping on the couch,” you tell him. 

A knot forms in his throat and he thinks he might just cry. 

“Thank you,” he manages to whisper without tears.

You nod and then hesitate. Another sigh. Finally you put your lips to his forehead, a light, quick kiss. It feels like something close to forgiveness.

---

thanks for reading!

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[almostempty]

Paris, Texas pt. 2

aka: 2 Texans, 1 Lady 🎀 The joel x javi x f!reader threesome PART 2!!

WC: 8k | Other fics | Rating: 18+ | Read on Ao3 | PART ONE

this one goes out to my fellow mlm fans and voyeurs, i hope it’s everything you wanted and more <3; dedicated to everyone that gets a tag bc i love you 5ever

Summary: Joel, still struggling with his conflicting feelings about the threesome with Javier, gets a surprise visit at work from the man himself that leaves him even more confused. After a week of seeing Javier in his dreams, he gets another surprise visit at work.

Note: it’s pretty heavy on the m/m action so if that’s not ur thing no worries you can still have a forehead kiss from me 

Tags/warnings: pwp, smut on smut on smut, internalized homophobia, dubcon joel/javi, infidelity, oral (m and f), consensual f/m sleepy oral, m/m anal, it’s not exactly a cuck chair–but there is a chair and u get to watch from it, top!joel, bottom!javi, but also switchy/vers in the future bc, respectfully, i would to experience the best of all worlds, i do not have a dick (i’m just a member of the fanclub) so if any of the m/m action is wildly inconceivable or something pls let me know i’m happy to receive feedback (spit as lube just pretend ok), some angsty guilt and shame in between the smut bc joel is still in denial, uhh dom!joel, idk if contractors have offices and i spent too long googling about it before remembering the point was the porn so pls forgive if that ruins ur immersion, tell me if i forgot something important

standard almostempty warnings at this point: unprotected sex with no consequences bc it’s fiction; f!reader is able-bodied otherwise no descriptions of skin tone, blushing, hair, idk tell me if there’s something that takes you out (physically); everyone is probably bi; no y/n, no beta just fueled by the power of adhd and delusion, if u see a mistake it was the gremlins i’m sorry 

PLEASE TELL ME IF U LIKE IT OR IF U HATE IT OR IF YOU WANT MORE

Joel is buried in paperwork. Permits and invoices are stacked up on his desk in organized chaos. The week has been a disaster. He blames his low-grade headache on the deadlines and number crunching, but he knows something else makes him uneasy. He rubs the pads of his fingers between his brows as if he could massage away the stress or erase the permanent worry line carved into his features. 

The noises outside his office blend into static as he recommits himself to getting caught up. 

He rolls up the sleeves of his worn plaid shirt, sighing to himself before he resumes. His pen scratches across a form he doesn’t care much about when the door to his offices creaks open. 

His head snaps up, looking across the room with a sharp glare. He’s not in the mood for interruptions, and he's already irritated at being stuck behind a desk playing catch-up. He isn’t expecting the man that enters the room. Stifling a surprised noise, he narrows his eyes to a sharp glare. He’s not in the mood for work-related afternoon interruptions, let alone a surprise visitor.

“So, this is the boss’s office?” Javier’s voice is smooth like he didn’t just appear out of nowhere and uninvited.  

“Yep,” Joel mutters, grip on his pen tightening in his fingers. Dropping his eyes back to his work, considering ignoring the man. Maybe he can will away the pest by avoiding eye contact and ignoring the intruder sizing up his space. 

Javier scans the sparse office. Empty walls, bare bones, and practical. 

Joel assumes he’ll have a snarky comment about the size of the room or the view. He keeps flipping through the paperwork in his hand, braced for Javier’s attitude. Joel is tense and prepared to snap back, but his shoulders are tight and stiff as if he’s been sleeping on concrete for a week. 

The signature scent of Javier, spicy and smoky, fills the air. The fragrance stirs Joel's memories and causes a visceral reaction. It makes his gut churn and fingers itch with restlessness. 

The last–and only–time he’s seen Javier plays out like a well-edited montage. New images flash every time he blinks. Dark eyes. Sweat glistening on Javier’s chest. Lips, tongues, and teeth, he tries to subtly shake the thoughts out of his head.

Javier drops into the chair in front of the desk, eyeing Joel with a casual bravado. He crosses one leg over the other, resting his ankle along his knee in his dark jeans and rusty red button-down. He links his hands behind his head as if he’s prepared to settle in and bask in Joel’s discomfort.

Javier’s eyes roam over Joel’s desk. “You don’t have a secretary for all that paperwork?” he muses. A smile pulls at the corner of Javier’s mouth that Joel could sense without looking at him. He can feel the heat of Javer’s gaze pouring over the desk between them, making the air feel heavy, thick with something unsaid. 

Joel can feel his pulse jump in his throat, chest constricted. “Nope.” He hoped his clipped tone would push Javier out of the room, but that hope flickers and dies when he takes in the nonchalant sight. Irritation spikes in Joel at the whole disturbance. He’s not interested in letting Javier take up residence in his office. Or his mind. 

“You need somethin’?” Joel’s throat feels dry as he spits out the blunt question. He flips through the next invoice without processing a single word on the page. He’s tired and has a low threshold after a week of poor sleep. Though, he’d never admit, except maybe to you, that he’s easily irritated even with a good night of rest. But you always slice right through his grumpy shell.

“Just in the neighborhood,” Javier drawls, “thought I’d stop by.” 

“Right.” Joel rolls his eyes, ”We supposed to be friends now?” Or what? Something more?

Javier shrugs casually, like that’s up to Joel to decide. 

Joel tosses his pen and paperwork onto his desk. He takes a breath, forcing his features into something neutral. The night you brought Javier into your home, and your bed has haunted him. Made it so he couldn’t think straight. Tortured him, not with regret, but with the messy, tangled knot of shame and desire. 

Now Javier is here. In the flesh. Self-satisfied and content, watching Joel and waiting expectantly. Waiting for what? 

“Is staring me down part of your ex-cop deal? You come here uninvited to interrogate me or something?” Joel accuses with annoyance in his eyes. 

“I don’t need to interrogate you,” Javier answers, mellow and cloying, “already know what you want.” He shifts, leaning forward, speaking quieter. “Just wanted to see if you’ve figured it out yet.” 

Joel works his jaw as he crosses his arms. A brick wall of resistance. The fuck is that supposed to mean? 

He clocks when Javier’s eyes lower, tracing the line of his arms, the same way you do when you catch Joel in a mood. You so easily diffuse his anger, disarming him with your wit or completely dismantling him with your body, unlike the instigator in front of him, who seems to only get under Joel’s skin. 

Joel lets out a deep sigh. Javier isn’t here to be friends. 

“It was what she wanted,” Joel says, his eyes hard, his voice firm. It felt like a weak excuse the second the words left his mouth. Shit. 

Javier can taste the blood in the water. His eyes glint at the thrill of the chase. “Is that all?”

The room feels like it’s shrinking. Heat crawls up the back of Joel’s neck, anger entwined with something else he refuses to name. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he replies, standing up from his chair, trying to tower over Javier in some pathetic attempt at dominance. 

A move he immediately regrets.

Javier also stands, circling around the side of the desk to look Joel up and down. Boldly. He admires Contractor Joel. The way he fills out his well-fitted work jeans, the way his deep green plaid hugs his broad shoulders and strains around his biceps as he crosses his arms again. 

The workwear suits him. A strikingly masculine figure. Powerful and seductive. Tempting Javier just by existing. “I get it,” Javier murmurs to himself, understanding what you’d mean when you first described Joel. The disgruntled expression, the furrowed brows and sharp eyes–he only makes it worse. 

“Always thought the whole construction thing was a cheesy porn gimmick,” Javier admits, “you could pull it off though. You got the toolbelt and the hat?” 

“You can leave,” Joel replies dryly. 

Ignoring Joel, Javier steps closer, “I’m just saying,” he rests a finger on Joel’s shoulder, drawing a line down towards his chest. Joel’s body is rigid, the contact searing his skin even through the soft material of his shirt. “You look good. This is your color,” he tugs at the dark green fabric below Joel’s throat. He drops his hand, and Joel feels like the earth could swallow him whole. 

Javier’s mock compliments make Joel’s stomach flip before he steels himself again. Javier flashes a diabolical smile, catching the flare of Joel’s eyes and the hard swallow of whatever retort he couldn’t muster. 

“You’re really trying to convince yourself, aren’t you?” Javier’s voice is dripping with mock sympathy. 

Violent, intrusive thoughts race through Joel’s mind—socking Javier in the jaw to wipe that smug look off his face, grabbing him by the collar and running him through the wall, slamming him onto the desk. Face down so he could lean over his body and tell him, hot breath on the back of his neck, that he’s about to learn to watch his mouth. 

Joel’s hands flex, knuckles popping, and heat stirs at the base of his spine at the dark desires. Suddenly, very aware of their close proximity. Close enough to feel the heat of Javier’s body, and to see the unwavering confidence in his face. 

Amused by Joel’s volatility, Javier scoffs gently. His warm breath fans between them, and a smirk spreads on his face. Out of context, it’s only a gentle tease. A flirty smile and charged moment. But to Joel, strained like the last barricade holding back a beast, it’s too much. He snaps, and the beast gnashes its teeth. 

“Get fucked,” Joel’s voice is a rumbly, low growl. 

Javier’s smirk blooms into a Cheshire Cat grin. “I’d ask if you were offering, but I don’t think you’ve got it in you.” 

Blood pounds in Joel’s ears. Drowning out the voice that wonders why Javier can rile him up so easily. The reminder that he’s got no reason to be jealous. That you’ve done nothing to make him worry. 

“You were only doing it for her, huh?” Javier’s voice was quieter but still laced with danger.

Joel’s jaw is clenched tight when he replies, “Yep.” It doesn’t carry the conviction he needed to convey. 

“Shame she isn’t here now, then,” Javier keeps pressing. The honesty in his tone throws Joel off. 

“Would do anything for her,” Joel adds, softening fractionally at the truth in it.  

“Anything?” Javier repeats. 

“S’right.” 

“For her.” 

“For her,” Joel nods in agreement. Letting out a breath, he didn’t realize he had been holding.  Javier rocks back on his heels like he’s about to turn and stroll away, satisfied by God knows what part of that interaction. 

But he pauses. 

Time feels weighted until Javier moves in closer. Another smile breaks across his face at how easily he can shock Joel into a trance with his audacity. Acting in defiance of all of Joel’s words. 

His hand snakes up Joel’s chest until his fingers are slipping between the curls at the base of his skull. He leans in close, lips ghosting over the shell of Joel’s ear, “Is this for her too?” He shifts back half a step, and with the hand on the back of Joel’s head, he urges him to look down. 

Javier’s hand had moved between them, palming the bulge in Joel’s jeans, his fingers pressing against his erection through the denim. Joel’s lips part, his whole body jerking forward instinctively, and a low groan rumbles in his chest before he can stop it.

Javier’s smirk deepened. “That’s what I thought.”

For a moment, Joel’s mind blanks out, lost in the haze of physical sensation. His body reacts before his brain catches up. 

“The fuck are you doing?” Joel snaps, grabbing Javier’s wrist and yanking it away. His voice is hoarse, breath ragged. 

“Anyone could walk in here.”

Javier didn’t pull away; he didn’t flinch. His head cocks in contemplation at Joel’s specific reasoning. 

Leaning in closer, Javier’s voice drips with amusement. “You’re afraid of them?” he nods towards the door. “Worried about what? That your crew is gonna find out their boss likes cock?” he laughs softly, a dark, teasing sound. 

Joel’s chest heaves, heart pounding. Anger, lust, and frustration all swirling together inside of him.

“You think they won’t take orders from you if they hear the noises you make for me?” 

He knows Javier is running his mouth to provoke him. But it works on him anyway. Joel huffs dismissively, without a thought, “You think I’d make a sound for you?” 

“I think you’ll beg me to stop before you do.”

Before he can dwell on the ramifications, Joel acts on impulse. Stepping back, his face hardening as he stares Javier down. That smug bastard. He’s consumed with a defiant urge to remove that smirk from Javier’s face. 

“On your knees,” he orders, his voice cold, flat, and restrained.  

Javier’s eyebrow raises, lips curling into a lazy smile. “Why, Joel?” he asks, voice playful. 

“You know why.” The presumption is underscored by the sound of Joel’s belt clinking before he unzips his jeans. He grips the base of his thick cock, menacing and erotic, as he keeps his hard gaze on Javier. 

He accepts the challenge, kneeling slowly, never breaking eye contact. 

“Yeah,” Javier murmurs, “you look even better like this. All frustrated and desperate to be touched.” His voice is thick and low, like molasses. Almost reverent, but at the same time gloating, as if Javier’s only proving himself right. It’s infuriating to Joel that the man can so freely express his desire and rile Joel up further with the same words. 

Javier’s hand covers Joel’s as he gives Joel’s cock an experimental stroke. Joel hisses through clenched teeth, slamming his eyes shut and tilting his head up to break the eye contact. To sever the intimacy. He’s taut, impatient, and ready to snap. 

Until Javier’s lips wrap around his weeping tip, and they both groan in unison at the sensation. The wet heat of his mouth sends a sharp throb of pleasure through Joel. The intensity causes his hand to shoot out to his desk, fingers digging into the edge in an attempt to ground himself. 

But it’s no use. 

Javier knows exactly what he’s doing, taking him deep, fast, his mouth warm and eager. His hands work in symphony with his mouth, twisting around his length, massaging at his thighs and hips, deliberate and competent. He has nothing to be shy or restrained about. 

Sinking into the pleasure, Joel starts to reason with himself. A mouth is a mouth, he can allow himself to have this, to let himself enjoy it.

And he does. 

Javier’s tongue teases underneath the sensitive head of Joel’s cock before he slides past his lips, along the flat of his tongue, and deep into his throat. It’s good. Why is it so fucking good? Joel’s head tips back down, blinking his eyes open. His body shudders. 

It’s not just a mouth. 

Seeing Javier’s head bobbing, his cock disappearing past the man’s lips, it stirs something wild and untamed within him. 

It’s a mistake to finally look. To really watch, taking it all in. The handsome features on Javier’s face, the unapologetic pleasure he takes from every reaction he pulls from Joel’s body. The strength and finesse of his hands are so different from you. He’s drawn to follow the movement of  Javier’s hand dropping to readjust himself, to ease the pressure on his own aching cock. 

The brief friction looses a moan from Javier, vibrating around Joel’s length. It’s undeniably fucking hot. Joel’s control slips, possessed by his urges. 

He reaches for Javier’s face to cup his jaw and hold him still. And he gives in. Fucking into Javier’s mouth, hips jerking recklessly. It’s a desperate strain to tamp down the groans clawing at his throat, and it doesn’t help when Javier watches him with his half-lidded eyes. No. 

“Shit,” he admonishes himself. Suppressing the captivating draw he feels. He tries to find focus, to keep it together–but there’s a loud knock that staggers him. 

A voice, muffled outside of his office door, shouts to him, “There’s a vendor here, says he needs your sign-off.” 

Joel’s breath hitches, “Fuck,” he spits, hands grasping the desk and Javier’s jaw, forcing out a coherent response. “Be there in a minute!” he calls out, voice strangled. 

Javier doesn’t stop. He doubles down, hollowing his cheeks and greedily coaxing Joel to lose control. And, of course, he does. Joel’s climax hits fast and hard. His last attempts to stifle any noises falter. He gasps, body jerking as he comes, spilling into Javier’s mouth. 

Dazed, he can only blink as Javier pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking. 

“Seems to me like that was just for you.” 

Joel is wrecked, leaning against the desk, his heart racing. He doesn’t have time to process anything before Javier kisses him—brief, chaste, leaving behind the taste of himself on his lips.

“Better get out there before anyone worries, boss,” Javier whispers with a wink before walking out of the office, leaving Joel standing there, stunned, unable to move. 

As the door clicks shut behind him, Joel isn’t sure if the knot in his stomach is anger, guilt, or worse, wanting more. 

Seems to me like that was just for you. 

It echoes, slowly settling over Joel. 

He nearly doubles over when the reality finally hits. His thoughts race, consumed by the thought of you. What did he just do? 

…………..

Joel is wracked with guilt and misery for days. Suffering in his own self-imposed torment. 

He needs to tell you, but he can’t figure out how. There’s no version of, “Hey baby, you know the guy from the threesome? The one that I threatened to kick out of the house? Well, he showed up to my office, and I may have come down his throat before he disappeared without a trace like a dick-sucking fairy.” that he can come up with that sounds redeemable. 

Worse, he still can’t get over the guilt and shame of how it even happened. Seduced by another man? He can’t fathom the reality that another man could turn him on, refuting the way he felt when he watched Javier sink to his knees. And rejecting the truth when his cock stirs at just the memory. Joel is at a complete loss for how to explain it away. 

It fucks with his sleep. He jolts awake in the middle of the night, aching and hard and furious that Javier has invaded his dreams. He sits up in bed, dragging his hands over his face. And you stir, always attuned to him. 

You’re warm and sleepy, but concern washes over you in the moonlight. 

“Can’t sleep?” you murmur, reaching out to pull him towards you. “What do you need?” Always so grounded, so considerate. It twists the guilt inside of him. He tries to erase his self-loathing and reassure you, to ease you back to sleep. 

You aren’t quite conscious enough to listen, but when you shuffle beneath the sheets to cuddle up to your man, you gasp when you accidentally brush over his hard cock. Not because it’s a shock to find, but because in your barely lucid state, you’re uninhibited. Earnestly expressing the desire his arousal sparks in you. 

“Use me,” you whisper, slow and syrupy. Difficult to deny. 

“No, baby, it’s okay. Go back to sleep,” Joel argues softly. 

You roll over, muffling a low whine into your pillow, before turning back towards Joel. You can make out his profile in the dim glow of the room. You can feel the resistance, but you give it another shot. 

“It’s not okay,” you grumble, and his head jerks towards you, “can’t go back to sleep now, you’ve got me all wet already.” 

“Okay,” he gives in like he could ever hold out on you anyway. He pulls back the sheet, exposing your sleep-warmed skin to the cooler air. Running his palm down your spine as you melt face down on the bed. He crawls overtop of you, straddling behind the curve of your ass, before lowering himself, caging you under his body. 

The skin contact is overwhelmingly intimate as he presses soft kisses to your neck and shoulders. You settle with ease and whine softly into the dark room as he rubs his cock along your slick folds. He continues, grunting in his own pleasure, as he glides along your seam, soaking in the sensation of you. Wet and needy from his touch. Until your legs are twitching and your whines grow louder, impatient, and sharp until he hears you say his name. When you plead for him to fuck you already. 

Then. He adjusts and sinks slowly into you, filling you inch by inch, grinding languidly against your plush body. 

You’re soft. Warm and wet. You take him so well, and he knows how to find the angles to make you shake and cry out for him. Now he chases it, needing to please you, to give himself to you. He plunges into you deeply, whispering praise against your skin until you’re shuddering and gasping beneath him. He nearly comes with you, but when the thought of Javier pops up, he falters. He pulls out of you and gently flips you over. 

“Sleep,” he commands as he settles between your legs, and you let it take you. Drifting off before you can process that he didn’t finish. Content to dream about Joel’s tongue dipping into your fluttering entrance and his hands spreading your legs wider. 

Joel stays between your legs, making your dream a reality. Trying to purify himself by worshipping you. Pouring his sins out between your thighs. Seeking forgiveness through your pleasure until he’s too tired to dream. 

He’s convinced this method will work. That eventually, he’ll forget about Javier altogether. But Joel underestimates how deeply the other man has sunk his claws into the back of his mind. It’s unsustainable, and his exhaustion becomes more and more apparent throughout the week. 

Despite thinking he’s able to cover up his internal torment, you always seem to know when something is wrong. You don’t push. You’re patient and gentle with him. It adds to his guilt. 

You help out in any way you can. Commenting that he seems stressed and tired but never asking for an explanation. You let him stew on his own emotional nightmare in solitude. As he prefers. 

For now. 

When Joel admits to you on Friday night that he’s behind at work, you simply nod. He doesn’t argue when you offer to bring lunch to him the next day. But he can barely meet your eyes when you smile and trail off about how you know just what will help him get through the day. 

You tell him decisively that he deserves to finish up early if he’s going to the office on a Saturday. He can only nod. Determined to spend the morning figuring out how to confess to you. With words. 

He’s still in a haze of fatigue the next day. Despite the rest of the office being quiet, his head is loud and buzzing. Likely the reason he’s so taken off guard when the door to his office swings open. 

“Working on the weekend?” 

Joel’s pulse spikes as the sound of Javier’s voice fills the room, smooth and mischevous. 

Anger floods his bloodstream and cuts through the fog of shame that had been clouding his vision. Joel crosses his arms and levels a ruthless glare at the man leaning against the doorframe. 

Javier should be the one that looks out of place. Overdressed for the occasion, in the wrong place. But he stands confidently, neatly groomed, and polished. His dark blue collared shirt and fitted jeans highlight his broad shoulders. He looks like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be, and his expression says he knows it. 

“No,” Joel says gruffly. Unperturbed, Javier sails into the room. 

“I don’t have time for this. Get out.” Joel says, his voice low, dangerous. He stands, hips leaning against his desk, prepared to back up his threat. His tolerance is already out the window for Javier. 

Javier shrugs, movements so fluid in relation to Joel’s fixed demeanor. 

“You didn’t say please.” His smirk is maddening. Joel’s fuse is short. He’s not interested in games. Not interested in having anything to do with his surprise guest at all. But he doesn’t move. Words caught in his throat. 

“Besides,” Javier continues breezily,  “you aren’t very convincing. I told you last time, I like this look on you, all mad and–”

Joel feels thorns clawing at his throat. Furious that his nerves flutter in response to Javier’s backward flattery. He can’t be thinking straight, that’s all. 

In fact, it’s damned near impossible to think when Javier keeps running his mouth, pushing every button he’s got. 

“Fuck you,” Joel hisses, vibrating with frustration, cutting off whatever Javier’s next words would have been. 

Amused by the interruption, Javier’s smile widens, eyes gleaming. “Mm,” he purrs, stepping closer, “You would like to, wouldn’t you?”

That’s it. 

Joel snaps, his hand shoots out, grabbing Javier by the front of his shirt and shoving him roughly against the nearest wall. The loud thud of Javier’s back hitting the drywall echoes in the small office. But the smirk on Javier’s face only deepens. 

“Touchy today, aren’t you?” Javier teases, breath coming out in a soft laugh. His body is pinned between the wall and Joel’s, but he doesn’t seem fazed. In fact, he looks pleased with the predicament. 

Joel’s breath is coming out hard and fast, fists still gripping the fabric of Javier’s shirt. This is the last person he wants to see right now. He seethes. Pent up and compressed into a dangerous coil. 

“You think this is funny?” Joel snarls, his face mere inches from Javier’s. 

Javier’s smile softens into something darker, more intimate. “A little,” he admits, leaning in just enough that their noses almost brush. “But, you seem to be taking it pretty seriously.” Javier shifts under Joel’s grip, his hands skirting up Joel’s waist. “You’re so worked up.” 

Joel grits his teeth, a ferocious-looking expression that only eggs Javier on. 

Dropping to a whisper to demand that Joel listens closely, Javier adds, “Maybe you’re not mad at me at all.” 

Before Joel can snap back, Javier shifts, movements effortless and exact. 

In an instant, Joel finds himself flipped, his back flat against the wall, slammed with a force that he wasn’t expecting. Javier’s arm presses across Joel’s chest, and his hips press against Joel’s in a way that sends a hot wave of need shooting down Joel’s spine. 

“Maybe,” Javier murmurs, lips to Joel’s ear, “you’re just mad at yourself.” Javier rocks his hips into Joel’s, grinding against his body in a slow, deliberate motion. A shudder ripples through Joel’s frame, even as his mind rebels against the thrill. “Denying the truth.” He emphasizes his point, pelvis pressing into Joel’s hardening cock, rolling his hips again. “Denying the pleasure.” 

No. Joel holds out. He isn’t going there. Not now, not ever.

But damn, the way Javier has him, the heat of his body against Joel’s. It tugs at the tangled knot of confusion in his chest. The knot that’s close to unraveling. 

“Fuck you,” Joel spits again, but it lacks the venom from earlier. His voice is a little shaky, resolve crumbling the longer Javier stays this close.

Javier smiles, his lips brushing against Joel’s jaw. “Say it, Joel.” He’s all-consuming, like a tidal wave crashing over and destroying all of Joel’s hastily constructed defenses. Javier is a relentless force. 

“Say it,” Javier demands. “I already know. Knew the first night we met,” he murmurs. “Just need to hear you say it.” 

Joel’s heart pounds against his chest, and his mind races. He wants to shove Javier off, wants to do anything other than stand there and feel his body respond to every damn word Javier says. Instead, he can’t seem to do anything. Can’t stop the muscles spasming in his core, or the way his chest heaves under Javier’s arm. 

“You can’t, though,” Javier whispers, his voice a dark, teasing rumble. He drops his arm, releasing Joel from his hold. “Such a shame. I wanted to know what you could do with that pretty cock of yours.” 

That was the last straw.

Joel grabs Javier by the waist, roughly spinning him around, and shoving him face-first onto the desk. 

“You wanna know what I can do with it?” his voice is harsh and wild. 

A reckless energy blazes between them. He pushes Javier down, leaning over him, chest pressed into Javier’s back. One hand snakes down Javier’s side, stopping at his hip. The other hand firmly planted on the back of Javier’s neck, pinning him down. 

Javier catches his breath. He doesn’t resist. If anything, he leans into it, arching his back, breath coming out in soft pants as Joel’s firm body boxes him in. With their bodies pressed tightly together, Joel’s straining erection isn’t subtle. “That’s more like it,” Javier murmurs, breathless but still smug. 

“Shut up,” Joel’s voice is hoarse. He is losing himself in it, the heat, the tension. Javier’s solid, toned body beneath his. He doesn’t want to think anymore. Doesn’t want to feel. He just wants to take control. To push past all the noise in his head. 

His body is on fire. Adrenaline, testosterone, and arousal all surge through him. Heightening every sensation, forcing him to be present. Rooted in his physicality. 

Gritting his teeth, Joel’s hands grip Javier tighter, a bruising force. 

“You’re gonna be good now,” Joel orders, “For me.” His voice is rough dark, and he doesn’t bother trying to hide the anger—or the heat—coursing through him. He can’t deny it right now, not when it burns so intensely.

He shifts his stance behind Javier, grinding his hips forward and feeling how Javier’s body responds. How he invites the contact and braces against the desk. Sweet, thick satisfaction pools at the base of Joel’s spine. 

Javier is still mouthing off, taunting Joel. Despite his voice sounding more breathless, it still brims with arrogance. “For you,” Javier repeats Joel’s words. “I thought it was all just for her? Have you changed your mind now?” 

Joel doesn’t answer. He’s too far gone. His hands move to the waistband of Javier’s jeans, yanking them down roughly, exposing the curve of his ass. Javier lets out a small gasp but doesn’t protest. In fact, Joel can feel the anticipation humming in Javier’s body, and he’s amused when Javier presses back as if he needs to dare Joel to go further. As if he could stop now.

Curling over Javier’s body, Joel presses his fingers to Javier’s mouth. “Suck.” Javier complies, allowing Joel to slip two fingers past his lips. Javier lets a hum vibrate around Joel’s fingers that causes Joel to roll his hips, grinding his still-clothed erection against Javier. 

Losing the war with himself, Joel takes out his resentment on Javier. He hooks his fingers into Javier’s cheek–jerking his head to the side. He glowers at the signs of arousal on Javier’s face. The undignified hunger. 

Remnants of disgust curdle in Joel’s gut. “You’re fuckin’ sick,” he accuses in a husky whisper, removing his fingers and straightening, breaking the eye contact that stirred something fierce and hot in his veins.

Accusations aside, Joel continues. He watches, smirking to himself, as Javier tenses at the sudden contact when Joel runs his hand over the curve of his ass. He takes his time. Enjoying his own exploration of Javier’s body. Smooth skin and firm and muscular. 

When he slowly pushes a finger inside, Javier’s body tenses at first, but Joel is persistent, working in deeper and stretching him open. 

Javier lets out a soft moan, still managing to sound smug even with the sharp gasp that follows. “You act all pissed,” Javier’s whispers, “but you love this.” His voice drips like warm honey with a teasing bite. 

Joel grunts, ignoring the taunts, focusing instead on the way Javier’s body relaxes beneath him, allowing him to add another finger. Javier’s breath hitches and he drops his head onto the desk. 

“Yeah,” Joel mutters, “you like that.”  

His words on encourage Javier to continue, “Know you wanted this,” he breathes, “that you’ve been thinking about it since last time, since the first time.” He continues his murmuring, words spilling over Joel’s desk, “I know because you’ve been in my fuckin’ head since that night.” 

“You’ve got an awful smart for someone in your position,” he continues, mindlessly flipping the attitude back at Javier, pointedly ignoring his confession. 

A strained chuckle comes from Javier, his body tightening with every twist of Joel’s fingers. “You still think you’re in control here?” he breathes, voice challenging and raw. “You’ve got no idea.” 

Joel pulls his fingers out abruptly, letting out a throaty growl as he shoves his jeans down just far enough to free himself. He spits in his hand, slicking himself up with rough, hurried strokes, his mind focused on the sight of Javier bent over his desk, waiting for more, begging for it. 

“Let’s see if you can keep running your mouth with my cock inside you,” Joel’s voice is layered with satisfaction. A challenge. He’s firm, gripping Javier’s hips and lining himself up. The room feels still, their ragged breath the only sound filling the air. 

He feeds his cock into Javier slowly. The tight heat of Javier’s body draws a guttural noise out of Joel, and he pauses for just a moment, letting the sensation wash over him. Then he pushes in deeper, inch by inch. 

Javier lets out a sharp moan, hands balling into fists against the flat top of the desk. “Fuck,” he breathes, and this time there’s no teasing edge, just raw need. 

Holding still while they both catch their breath, Joel’s hands dig tightly into Javier’s hips, anchoring the two of them together. He buries himself to the hilt, savoring the overwhelming sensation of heat and friction. 

And then he starts to move. 

Slowly, at first. Deliberate. He moves with measured control, hips snapping forward, pushing deeper with every stroke. Javier groans beneath him, then manages to mumble something about Joel being desperate, about how much he wanted this, but the words are broken, breathless. 

“Yeah?” Joel growls, picking up the pace, his movements growing rougher, harder. “That’s what you think?” 

Javier’s body jerks with each powerful thrust, breath coming in short bursts. “I know it,” he rasps, his grip on the desk tightening as Joel relentlessly continues. Slamming into him harder now, control beginning to slip. 

“You talk too much,” Joel decides, pounding harshly into Javier, reveling in the sweet clench as his pelvis meets Javier’s ass. He’s entranced by the sensation, the skin-to-skin contact, the heat, sweat, and musk. 

Joel feels reckless. Intoxicated with the rush of adrenaline and dopamine. Chasing an escape and taking it out on Javier. He is distantly aware that Javier has stopped with his taunting. The only sound either of them makes are low groans and throaty grunts as he pounds into the man beneath him. 

So absorbed with the immorality and the thrill he’s blind to the rest of the world and the rest of the room. 

Until the door opens. 

Joel freezes, his heart dropping into his stomach. 

It’s you. 

You shut the door, locking it, before turning back to face both men. Joel’s mind goes blank. His body is still pressed against Javier, his hands still grip his hips, his body flush against his. 

For a split second, he thinks he can pull away and cover up the situation somehow, but there is nothing that can explain this away. No excuse. No cover story. His body runs cold, at a loss for words, mouth agape. 

Then he sees the look on your face. 

You stand still, like a prey animal caught in the line of sight of two apex predators. You can see the fear in Joel’s eyes, and your heart lurches, aching to comfort him. But the rest of the scene has you stopped in your tracks. 

Joel sees your eyes widen; your breath is shallow, but there’s no shock. No confusion or hurt. Just a raw, undeniable hunger. You aren’t prey. 

You stand, taking in the sight of Joel fucking Javier into his desk, and your lips part in a small, breathless sigh. 

Javier turns to take you in, noticing the shift in the room, but he doesn’t pull away either. He is glowing, flashing his teeth with a wicked smile. The locks of hair on his forehead are damp with sweat, and his chest heaves as he remains braced atop the desk across from you. 

“Look who’s here to watch. Her own private show.” 

Joel swallows hard, still buried deep inside of Javier, his heart races. Adrenaline and arousal tangle together in a haze that leaves him unsure and adrift. 

You step further into the room, your gaze never leaving Joel’s as you cross the room. Setting down the lunch you brought, you perch on the edge of the chair that sits in front of the desk. 

“Don’t stop,” you encourage. 

Joel still looks like he’s forgotten how to blink or breathe. 

“The deli had a long line, and I couldn’t get parking,” you trail off a little breathlessly, watching the confusion on your man’s face. 

Statuesque and still, Joel is dumbfounded that you’re talking about being late for lunch while he’s balls-deep in the man bent over his desk. Is this real life? He’s been plagued with dreams of Javier for the last two weeks, waking up hard and sweating. But they weren’t like this. None of them were like this. 

“Don’t stop,” you repeat, voice dropping, sultry and encouraging. But he’s still locked in a trance.

“Can’t perform for an audience this time?” Javier quips, and Joel can hear the eye roll in his tone. 

Joel swallows hard, his mind spinning. He doesn’t know what to make of this. How to handle the fact that you’re here, watching. But with the heat in your eyes and the lack of surprise, you seem so relaxed–no, you’re enjoying this. 

That does something to Joel. 

Something dangerous. 

The invitation in your eyes sets him off. 

“She said don’t stop,” Javier continues on, smirking playfully at you, pushing back against Joel. 

Slowly, Joel regains feeling in his body. His hold on Javier constricting, his breath steadying, “I won’t.” He starts to move again, indulging in the sensation as he slowly drags his cock almost all of the way out before burying himself deep with a harsh snap of his hips. The motion forces a gravelly moan out of Javier that makes your cheeks hot. 

Joel continues, unhurried, fixed on the expression on your face and the depravity of the situation. You have a sparkle in your eye that he’s familiar with. “You knew,” Joel states. You nod in affirmation, a grin spreading on your face. 

“I set it up,” you whisper. 

Your admission hangs in the air. The sex-filled, debacherously thick air. Joel's remaining hesitance dissipates as it all sinks in. Washing away the fear of being caught or ashamed. He can see the glow on your face, your eyes dark--blown out with lust, wetting your lips as you wait for more. He can ask questions later. 

For you. 

He tells himself, dismissing the last of the voices in the back of his mind. 

You can see the gears turning in Joel’s head before something settles in, and the dark look he gives you makes your body burn up. Joel grunts, and you nearly melt, knees weak at the eroticism. It’s a good thing you’re seated. 

Joel slams harder into Javier, giving in to the primal heat driving him forward. Every broken breath from Javier feeds Joel’s growing need. His intensity shoots straight to your core. Your cunt throbs between your legs. You settle back into the chair, savoring the fruits of your labor. 

Your eyes trail over both men. It’s better than you could’ve imagined. You only wish you’d been in the room last week. However, getting the details from Javier kept you aching all week, even with Joel’s newly acquired midnight oral fixation. 

You feel the hungry look on your face, gaze darkening as you marvel at the lewd scene. You don’t wait for Joel’s approval. Hand dipping beneath the waistband of your shorts, slipping over the seam of your pussy, already needy and wet from the debased view of the two gorgeous men. 

“Oh, shit,” Javier’s eyes nearly roll back as he watches you, eyes flicking from your hand disappearing beneath your shorts and up to your face. 

Your lips part, arousal flooding your body at the dynamic between both men. You watch them in awe, like your very own porn starring your two favorite men. It’s indescribably hot to see you Joel so unraveled, his teeth clenched in a feral snarl as he continues. And to see Javier so blissed out beneath him. 

“Show me,” Joel’s plea sends a tingly thrill down your spine. You remove your hand from between your legs to show off the tips of your fingers, glistening from tracing your slick folds. The way both men are glued to your display gives you a different thrill, something powerful and bright that starts in your chest and flows through your body. “Show me everything, baby,” his gruff voice is irrefutable. 

You slip the shorts off, spreading your legs wide and parting yourself boldly to give your men their own private show. You trace your fingers from your entrance to your clit, drawing circles and seeking relief from the pulsing need that has you already feeling precariously close to the edge. 

Joel’s breath comes in harsh pants now, body slick with sweat. The desk rattles beneath them as he drives into Javier, losing himself in the rhythm, the heat, the friction, and in the sounds Javier makes–those desperate moans, ragged breaths, the way he was trembling beneath Joel, taking it all. 

And all the while, Joel’s gaze flicks back to you, watching the way your breath quickens, the way you touch yourself more urgently. Like a live wire had been lit between the three of you, charging the room with an intensity Joel had never felt before.

You’re spread out in front of both of them, a vision he’ll never forget. You freely let out soft whimpers and sweet whines that drive him wild. It all surges through Joel like a fever, threatening to consume him and driving him harder into Javier, who lets out a strangled moan. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you sound frustrated. “You have no idea how fucking hot you are like this–shit.” You watch them with rapt attention, your hand moving quickly between your legs as you touch yourself. Joel can hear the soft, slick sounds of your fingers working and can see the way your body shivers with the same need that builds inside both men. 

Your soft moans fill the room, blending with Javier’s broken gasps and Joel’s deep, gruff groans, creating a symphony of debased pleasure. 

“Let’s see,” Joel encourages you in a hoarse voice. You can feel all of the need radiating from both men, it’s salacious and empowering. Joel’s gaze stays on you as he pounds into Javier, watching as you arch your back slightly, fingers working faster. Your parted lips and breathless noises make Joel’s pulse pike. 

“I’m gonna come,” You can’t stop drawing out deep and bright waves of pleasure as your eyes dance in a flurry between Joel and Javier, taking in every detail. You can vaguely hear Joel’s praise as you work through the sensations. Panting shallowly, you’re fixed back on them as you start to relax. 

Joel’s cock throbs inside Javier as he watches you, and for a brief moment, his rhythm falters, overwhelmed by how much it was turning him on to see you like this, to know you were getting off watching him like this. 

Having caught on to Joel’s shift in focus, Javier lets out a choppy laugh. His own voice cracks with need. “She likes watching you fuck me,” he says, his words slurred with pleasure. “Look at her,” he begs in earnest. 

“Shut up,” Joel grits out. 

But Javier only laughs again, his voice still jagged. “Can’t blame her,” he continues, testing Joel’s patience. “Told you already, that sexy angry look you get–” 

Joel doesn’t let him finish. He slams forward, thrusting into him deep and hard. Cutting Javier’s words off with a loud, choked moan. “Talk too fuckin’ much,” Joel spits out roughly as he leans over, his chest pressing against Javier’s back. 

Joel catches the telltale hitch in Javier’s breath, the sharp, desperate moan that slipped from his lips as his need builds, coiling tight in his gut. He slides a hand over the curve of Javier’s ass, snaking around his hip, tracing over the curls at the base of his cock, and finally wrapping his fingers around his length. 

Javier’s entire body jolts, clenching tightly around Joel at the contact. Joel strokes Javier’s cock firmly, matching the rhythm of his own thrusting. He revels in the delicious sensation of Javier tensing beneath him, and his breath catches in his throat. 

The display of dominance and ego keeps you enthralled. Skin ablaze as you can barely keep up with the intensity of the two of them. You sink two fingers into your throbbing cunt, aching to feel filled and as wrecked as Javier seems. 

Javier’s body clenches tightly around Joel as he watches you come in front of them, for them, but Joel isn’t about to stop. “You,” Joel growls as he pulls Javier’s head back just enough to hear him better. “You’re next.” 

“Just–fuck,” Javier groans, hips pushing back to meet every thrust, practically vibrating under Joel, the usual cockiness faltering and replaced with something more intimate. “Don’t stop.” 

Grinning through clenched teeth, leaning forward, breath hot against Javier’s ear, Joel’s voice is velvety smooth, “I know.” 

“You gonna come for me?” Joel asks, his fist tightening as he jerks Javier’s cock, his other hand holding him steady by the hips. 

“Please,” you add, desperate to see them fall apart. 

“You–” Javier’s head drops forward, his voice a ragged gasp. He can’t finish the sentence as Joel slams forward, his hand moving faster and harder as he feels Javier’s cock pulsing in his grip. 

“Come on,” Joel taunts now, rough and demanding. “Do as you’re told for once, Javier, come for me.” 

And with a sharp gasp and cry, Javier’s body tenses, his cock jerking in Joel’s hand as he comes. The sheer intensity of his release is all too much. 

Javier slumps forward, panting and spent, Joel’s gaze shoots back to you. The sight of you–the way you are losing yourself in watching them–makes Joel’s entire body light up with a new intensity. 

You let out another soft groan, your gaze locked on Joel’s as you touch yourself, your fingers glossy with slick arousal. “Fuck, Joel,” you whisper. “Please.” 

His body reacts immediately to the sound of your voice, the sight of you so undone, and he knows he’s close. He can feel the way his cock throbs inside of Javier, the heat of his release building in his gut, tightening with every rough movement. But this. Having you here, watching pushes him to the edge in a way he hadn’t anticipated. 

Hips stuttering, Joel’s orgasm tears through him. Groaning deep within his chest, his body jerks forward as he comes inside of Javier. His fingers dig so hard into Javier’s hips that he knows he’s going to leave bruises. 

Javier shudders beneath him, panting, body spent, but still bracing himself against the desk as Joel rides out the last of his release, breath coming in harsh, uneven pants. He looks at you, and a grin spreads on his face. The wrung-out expression really does it for you. 

Your eyes are half-lidded, face hot with arousal, fingers desperately reaching for the sensitive spot inside your cunt that Joel reaches with ease. Both men’s dark eyes rake over your body, spurring you on. Writhing under your own hands and their heady expressions. 

“Goddamn,” Javier breathes raggedly, but his tone is laced with admiration as he watches you. It makes you glow. “So pretty like that.” You moan louder, body arching as you ride the edge of your release. 

“Such a good girl,” Joel says. “Come for us.” 

With a shattered breath, you come–moans filling the room as your core contacts in waves. Until you’re cursing and panting softly. Letting the praise flowing from Joel and Javier wash over you. You giggle softly, acknowledging you feel more cockdrunk than the two of them look despite only watching. 

You feel a warmth settling between the three of you. 

It makes your limbs feel loose and floaty as you smile lazily, watching both men tuck their softening cocks back into their jeans. You swell with pride. For your own luck, snagging two incredibly gorgeous men. And for successfully executing your plan. 

You know there’s more work to do. You catch the awkward pauses and shuffling, but you can only allow your heart to swell as Joel helps you to your feet as if your legs stopped working. A deep-seated contentment unfurls in your chest when his arms wrap around you. And when he releases you, watching as you pull Javier towards you, you remain hopeful. 

You’ve got more in mind for your two Texans. 

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