#floralcyanide 2k celebration

[floralcyanide]

Gasoline

Joel Miller x Reader

request: "congratulations on 2k my dear friend!!! ana i would love to see smut prompt 5 (“I think you lost your underwear somewhere.”) with our emotionally stunted apocalypse daddy joel miller if you have time and/or the inspiration for it 👉👈" by @she-is-juniper

smut prompt #5: "I think you lost your underwear somewhere."

warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, use of a makeshift gag, car sex, mentions of a gun.

summary: When a mission suddenly turns awry, you and Joel have to make a run for it. Later, you discover you left something behind.

word count: 1237

author’s note: welcome to the 2nd request of my 2k celebration and my first Joel fic!! I hope everyone enjoys this (: if you do, please let me know! I hope to write more for him in the future.

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here | 2k celebration prompts here | request a prompt here or in my asks.

“There’s a sickness that is going ‘round, but no one’s got a vaccine.”

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Your eyes burn into Joel’s, unblinking and unwavering, as his fingers bury themselves deep inside you. The pads of his pointer and index fingers hit a spot inside of you, causing you to whimper. But the sound is muffled by your underwear that’s been bunched up and shoved into your mouth to keep you quiet.

You were on your way back from abusing Bill and Frank’s shower and getting some supplies from them when a storm began blowing through. Not wanting to get drenched and come down with a cough, you and Joel broke into a car that wasn’t completely submerged in vines and had a viable backseat. The two of you are now cramped in the said backseat, passing the time as rain pelts down on the car. It wasn’t long that the two of you were in the car before Joel began to get handsy. He had hurriedly yanked your old jeans down your legs, to which you warned him to be careful- they were your only pair that survived the apocalypse- and then he did the same to your fresh underwear, which is now obviously being used for other things.

A spring from the torn-up backseat digs into your back as the smell of stale gasoline fills your nose. You figure the action of you thrusting your hips forward is making it move around in the tank as the car jostles slightly. You’re desperately trying to chase that familiar warmth in your lower stomach as you push away your thoughts.

“That’s it, doll. So good for me, taking my fingers so well,” Joel drawls, his eyes heavy with lust.

His free hand has your wrists enclasped, holding all his body weight on them as he relentlessly stretches you out with his deft fingers. You’re still burning your gaze into his, willing yourself not to let your eyes roll into the back of your head. You’re stubborn when it comes to Joel, who is also very stubborn himself, and you two often battle over who's in charge in many aspects. Including sex. So, even if you’re the one on the receiving end right now, you aren’t letting your guard down completely. Which means you’re not gonna break eye contact until you absolutely have to. But that comes all too quickly when Joel snaps his head to his right, eyes now wide with alert as he stares out of the back windshield. His fingers pause their movements as well, much to your dismay.

“We need to go. Now,” Joel mutters, pulling away from you.

You rip your underwear out of your mouth, tossing them somewhere on the floor of the car, “What’s going on?”

“I thought I heard someone yell,” Joel says, his eyes still focused on the street outside.

“Wouldn’t it be better to stay here, then?” you whisper, trying to listen for the voices he heard.

“The rain stopped, and we need to head home with our stuff as soon as possible anyway,” Joel says, “It’s gonna get dark soon.”

You sit up wordlessly, trying to regain your composure from the cloud of pleasure you were experiencing. Suddenly, you hear the yelling Joel was referring to, and in a panic, you grab your jeans and pull them up your legs as Joel grabs the backpacks with your stuff in them from the front seat. Joel pulls his gun from his waistband as he slowly opens the car door, ushering you to get out quickly with one of the bags.

Before you make a run for it, Joel grabs your shoulder, “You see that dumpster over there?” he jerks his head in its direction, and you nod, “Make a run for it and hide behind it until I get there.”

Looking in both directions of the street before pushing yourself off the side of the car, you bolt for the dumpster without issue. You watch nervously as Joel sprints across the street, gun in hand. He hunches beside you before slowly rising up, peeking over the rotted dumpster to make sure no one is coming. After a few minutes of silence, Joel sinks back down.

“Let’s go,” he says, and the two of you, very carefully, proceed to your usual route back to the QZ.

The night begins to fall right as you and Joel reach the apartment building the two of you have holed up in. You two weren’t far from the QZ when it began raining, so thankfully, the trek back home wasn't too strenuous. You sit the backpack down by the door, sighing as you slump your shoulders and drag your feet toward the bed. Joel follows you, hovering over you as you lie down. 

“Now,” he says, “Where were we?”

You giggle as he unbuttons your pants again, but your smile fades when an unreadable expression crosses Joel’s face, and he pauses his movements.

“What?”

“I think you lost your underwear somewhere,” he says, stifling a laugh by pursing his lips.

You furrow your eyebrows and become aware of the feeling of denim on your delicate skin. 

“Damn, I left them in the Buick,” you groan, covering your face with your hands.

“It’s alright. Makes my job easier,” Joel smirks as he fully removes your pants and tosses them on the floor.

He lowers himself and levels his eyes with your core, taking a gentle hand and spreading you open before planting a kiss on your clit.

“So beautiful,” Joel says, his breath fanning against you.

He ever so slowly licks a stripe up your slit, circling your clit carefully when he finally reaches it. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you squirm, and Joel grips your hips with his large hands, keeping you still against his face.

You clamp your thighs around his head, squeezing as he begins to suck lightly on your bundle of nerves.

“Be nice,” Joel mutters as he briefly pulls away from you, only to resume his soft torment seconds later.

His tongue laps at your growing wetness, swirling around your clit before he takes it between his lips again. You whimper, squeezing your legs around his head again. Joel pulls them off his and spreads them, pinning them to the bed by your knees. Now you were on full display for him. Joel flattens his tongue against your clit, shaking his head side to side vigorously. You let out a guttural moan, your legs struggling against his grip. Joel then gently nips at the bundle of nerves, rolling it between his teeth lightly before sucking it between his lips again. He flicks his tongue on the bud as he sucks, causing your stomach to tie in a familiar knot.

“Close,” is all you could muster, your stubborn facade melting away. 

Joel grazes his teeth over you again, sucking harder than before. The feeling of his teeth pinching you slightly sends you over the edge, your legs shaking under his hands as your hips buck wildly against his face. Your stomach tightens as your release washes over you, Joel’s name slipping from your lips repeatedly. 

After letting you come down from your high, Joel pulls off of you and wipes his face of your arousal.

“God, that was definitely worth losing my new pair of underwear,” you sigh as Joel climbs beside you and lays down next to you. 

“They were gonna end up ruined anyway,” he jokes.

You just roll your eyes at him and smack his chest playfully.

[floralcyanide]

Could Never Be Heaven

Austin Butler x Reader Smut

request:

smut prompt #13: “Get back down here, we’re not done yet.”

smut prompt #8: “The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused, is making me lose my mind.”

smut prompt #4: “Stop looking at me like that or my knees will not hold me any longer.”

smut prompt #1: “I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist.”

smut prompt #9: “I want to count every one of your freckles with my lips.”

by @purejasmine

warnings: smut, phone sex, that's basically it.

summary: After a stressful day, you unwind with a nightly call with your boyfriend, Austin.

word count: 945

author’s note: I'm not gonna lie, I'm definitely a sucker for long-distance relationship tropes lol but here is the 3rd request for my 2k celebration. I hope everyone enjoys <;3

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here | 2k celebration prompts here | request a prompt here or in my asks.

“And all of the songs were about you.”

Being in a long-distance relationship was difficult sometimes, especially when it came to being intimate. Phone calls or FaceTime were the only options to engage in anything sexual other than text, which you and Austin didn’t really prefer unless necessary. It had been a hard day at school and work, and all you wanted was to wind down. But you had your nightly call with Austin, who was in his trailer during the day in his time zone. All alone and hopefully missing you. The perfect opportunity to wind down.

You stare at your phone screen as you zone out to the sound of FaceTime ringing. After a few seconds, Austin finally picks up.

“Hey baby!” he grins, adjusting his phone on the coffee table in his trailer, making sure you could get the full view of him sitting on the couch.

“Hey,” you wave, returning his smile, “How is filming going today?” 

“Good, good. I’ve missed you all day. I had a dream of you last night, and it felt so real that I was sad when I woke up,” Austin says, a slight glint in his eye.

“What did you dream about?” you ask curiously.

Austin peaks out of his trailer window before closing the shutters, “I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist.”

“Oh really?” you raise an eyebrow, a smirk growing on your face.

Austin always knew how to read your mind, “Yes, really. You look like you had a hard day, sweetheart.”

“I did,” you frown, “But it’s better now I get to see you. I wanna hear more about this dream you had, though.”

Austin chuckles, “I figured you would.”

You take your phone with you to the kitchen so you can quickly make yourself a glass of water. As Austin describes his dream, you regret leaving the comfort of your bed as you become more aroused. You calmly sip your water, trying not to give yourself away.

“Hey, look at me,” Austin says, his voice slightly raspy.

You reluctantly look into the camera, your face growing warm from how seen you feel.

“The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused is making me lose my mind,” Austin says, running a hand through his hair as he looks at you with heavy eyes.

You bite your lip as your knees grow weak from his alluring stare, “Stop looking at me like that, or my knees will not hold me any longer.”

“Tell me what you want, doll,” Austin mutters, his voice almost inaudible.

You feel a rush of adrenaline at your sudden power to tell Austin what to do.

“I want you to,” you trail off, walking to your room as you think of what to say, “Unzip your pants and take your cock out.”

“As you wish,” Austin smirks at your slow decision-making.

He does as told, taking out his length, “Now what?”

You hurry to your bed and dive under the covers, “I want you to stroke it like I do, nice and slow.”

Austin then begins running his hand along his shaft, slowly, as you said. 

“Good boy,” you whisper as your free hand travels underneath the covers and to your dampening underwear.

“God, I wish you were here,” Austin moans, closing his eyes as his pace quickens slightly.

“I do, too,” you say, as your index finger circles your clit over your underwear, “I wanna kiss you all over. I want to count every one of your freckles with my lips.”

Austin throws his head back against the couch, his hand moving slowly as you had told him.

“You can go faster if you need to, baby,” you say, biting your lip when you add another finger to your circling motion against your bundle of nerves.

“Are you touching yourself?” Austin asks, his voice deep with lust.

“Yes,” you say, “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Austin says quickly, lifting his head, “I just wanna see.”

You place your phone on the nightstand next to you, positioning it so Austin can see your hand moving in tight circles. He groans at the sight, his grip on his cock tightening.

“You look so good like that,” he exhales, letting his head loll back on the couch, but not too far so he can still see his phone screen.

“Fuck, Aus, I wish you were here,” you whine, removing your underwear entirely before returning your hand back to your clit.

“I’m close,” Austin says, and you quickly move your phone between your legs, where he has the full view of your slick core.

“Fuck,” he curses, running his thumb over his tip, “You’re so pretty.”

You smile at him as you edge closer to your release, “You’re so pretty. Are you gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Yes,” Austin nods, “I’m gonna cum, all for you.”

A moan bubbles up your throat, and your orgasm suddenly crashes over you like a rogue wave- unexpected and intense. The sound and sight of your body coming undone triggers Austin’s own release. He spills over his hand as he continues pumping himself, riding out his orgasm as both of you catch your breath.

“I love you,” Austin says, reaching for the tissue box on the coffee table before cleaning himself.

“I love you too,” you say softly.

Before you let yourself completely melt into the mattress, you get up to walk to your bathroom to retrieve a washcloth.

“Get back down here. We’re not done yet,” Austin says from your phone, where you left it under the covers.

You chuckle and return to your spot in bed, “Now, it’s your turn to tell me what to do.”

taglist:

@anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @austinbutler17 @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @thatonemoviefan @kittenlittle24 @tubble-wubble @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @amiets2 @mrs-butler @ari-nicole @austin-butlers-gf @feral4austinbutler @inlovewithchrisevans @shynovelist @mommy-maia @karamelcoveredolicity @thtguyovrthere @starry-night-20 @coldonexx @hangmanswhorey @mavericksicybabe @coco-bitch @bobthefishiesworld @emmymaehereeeeee @myguiltypleasures21 @rainydayz101 @finelineskies @cryingabtab @kaitaesupremacy @ash-omalley @latenighttalking13 @tom-whore-dleston @oh-kurva @cece05 @poppet05 @every-dayiwakeup  @whore-for-hewitt  @eliseinmemphis @butlerslut @buttrry11 @rosepresley

[floralcyanide]

The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot

Joel Miller x Reader

request: BOY HOWDY MY DUDE do I have a challenge for you if you’re up for it. Can I pls request a little Joel x Reader with Angst 20 and Smut 2? I feel like there’s some way that the two could come together perfectly 🥴😈 Love you! by @o-holynight

angst prompt #20: “Please, don’t make this worse than it already is.”

smut prompt #2: “Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”

warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), angst, situationship/ exes with benefits

summary: You have an on-and-off relationship with Joel, and have for quite a while. What happens when he shows up one last time? Will it really be the last?

word count: 2548

author’s note: hiii here is the 6th request for my 2k celebration!! sorry it's so late >.< I hope everyone enjoys!! I barely proof read so I'm sorry if it flows weird

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here | 2k celebration prompts here | request a prompt here or in my asks.

“And if it makes you less sad, we'll start talking again. You can tell me how vile I already know that I am.”

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

You always told yourself you’d never overstep for a man, even after the world quite literally went to hell. No matter what, you stood by that rule you set for yourself. Until you met Joel. You find yourself back with him a lot despite your rule, and you’ve chalked it up to a form of self-harm. Yeah, you had your issues, everyone did nowadays, but you went through a lot before the end of the world. You had your reasons for clinging to someone who gave you a little bit of light in the never-ending darkness. And Joel was that light, as much as you hated it.

And boy, do you hate it. Because he never knows what he wants when it comes to anything. It frustrates you to no end. The two of you were seriously dating for two years until he started acting weird. Tommy, Joel’s brother, had left the Boston QZ, and you figured Joel was acting oddly because of it. But as time went on, Joel became preoccupied, it seemed. And then you found out about Tess. She was someone Joel worked with in trading, and you never thought much about her until you heard whispers amongst people about them being together. After stewing about it and deciding whether or not to bring it up with Joel, you choose to mention it to him to see how he would react.

You remember a pressed look crossed his face before he flatly told you they were sleeping together. Two years together, and for what? For a sudden lack of communication, cheating, lying, and not talking to you at all? You wondered what she had that you didn’t for a long time. But you realized it wasn’t her; it was Joel. He had his problems that you just couldn’t solve. You broke up with Joel, of course, but not long after, you got back together. But you couldn’t trust him like you used to. He was still sneaky and reserved, and you couldn’t take it anymore, so you broke it off again. Then came the rendezvous. You and Joel would sleep together every other week with no strings attached. Most of the time, neither of you would speak a word to the other. But it got to the point that it was unhealthy, and you had to stop it. Now, you just pass each other in the street with shifty eyes. After knowing each other for years, you now don’t speak a word to one another. 

But today, it was more of a longing glance that was shared between the two of you. You were in line to sign up for next week’s work when Joel was walking out of the front of the line. His eyes meet yours, and you almost look away, but his eyes burn into you. After a minute of staring, you tear your gaze away and let your eyes focus on the ground below you. When you look up again, very hesitantly, Joel is gone.

When you return to your makeshift apartment, you let your body fall into your old, dusty couch. As you tiredly stare at the opposing wall, you sit there, sinking into the cushions. You tried not to, but you thought about Joel a lot. What life would’ve been like if you had stayed together. What life would've been like if you had met before the apocalypse. You’re torn from your thoughts when there’s a knock at your door. You sit on your couch very still for a moment before cautiously getting up. Quietly, you step on the firm floorboards that don’t squeak to approach the door. You weren’t expecting anyone; very few people know you live here. You grab the shotgun that’s in the corner by the door, looking through the peephole. You see a figure through the scratches and blurriness of the peephole, but they’re turned away.

“Who’s there?” you mutter through the door.

“It’s me,” the person says with a sigh.

“It’s who?” you snap, “I can’t see you.”

“Joel,” the person says, now facing the peephole.

You relax, pulling away from the old metal door.

“What do you want?” you ask, still clutching the gun.

“I wanted to talk.”

“About?”

“If you open the door, maybe you’ll find out.”

You’re silent for a minute before answering, “What if I don’t want to open the door?”

“I’d understand if you didn’t.”

You sigh, weighing your options. A part of you doesn’t want to bother with Joel, but another part of you is curious as to what he wants to talk about.

“Alright,” you say, unlocking the numerous locks on the door and opening it slowly.

You step aside and let Joel enter your apartment, his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets.

“Were you really about to use that?’ Joel motions to your shotgun, a slight smirk on his face.

“Yes,” you say, rolling your eyes, “I didn’t know who was at the door.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t shoot me on the spot even after seeing me,” Joel jokes.

“You and me both,” you scoff, sitting the gun back in its spot in the corner.

Joel falls silent after your response to his little joke, clearing his throat as you return to the couch. A cloud of dust shoots out of it as you slam yourself into the cushions again. 

“So,” you wave away the dust, “What did you wanna talk about?”

Joel crosses his arms, “After seeing you earlier, I felt like we left things on the wrong foot.”

You hold back a surprised laugh and nod, crossing your arms as well, “Yeah. Go on.”

“And I know you probably think I’m an awful person. And I’ll be the first to admit that I am,” Joel says, still standing in the middle of the room.

“Uh-huh,” you say, pressing him to continue, still trying not to laugh.

“But I’m sorry. For not treating you well and being a dick.”

You don’t respond momentarily before blurting out, “Are you dying or something?”

“What?” Joel asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

You pat the spot next to you on the couch, “Seriously. Why are you apologizing for stuff?”

Joel hesitantly removes his jacket and sits beside you, “No, I’m not dying. But I am leaving.”

“Leaving?” you ask, confused.

“I’m going out West to look for Tommy,” Joel says.

“Oh,” you say, rubbing your arm awkwardly.

You aren’t sure how to feel right now. You appreciate that Joel didn’t just up and leave without telling you where he went because you definitely would’ve worried yourself to death. But you don’t know whether to feel sad or happy for him for getting out of this place. 

“I just wanted to tell you,” Joel turns to you, his face a few inches from yours.

You’re still leaning back into the couch as he sits forward, his arms resting on his thighs. The room is quiet, and you turn over his words in your head, trying to come up with a response. 

“Thank you for telling me,” you whisper, blinking at the wall before you. It has an old picture from the previous owners hanging on it. It’s covered in dust that you don’t bother to wipe off anymore. 

“No problem,” Joel says just as quietly.

He is still turned to you, and you reluctantly move your gaze to him to see what his face looks like. His eyes are fixated on your knees, but he glances up and notices you staring at him. He holds your attention, leaning in slightly. Joel is now hovering over you, slowly putting his left hand on the other side of your lap. His body traps you into the couch as you allow him to lean into your lips. They graze yours softly, asking for permission. You nudge his nose with yours to allow him to press his lips against yours, and the air shifts. You know you shouldn’t, but this time is different. It could possibly be the last time. Joel kisses you softly at first, carding a hand through your hair as you melt into the couch. Suddenly, he grabs hold of your hips with both hands, pulling you onto his lap. You let out a small yelp at the quick movement before Joel interrupted your exclamation by kissing you again. He keeps his hands on your hips, his fingers massaging the skin that revealed itself from under your shirt when he moved you. 

You lightly run your tongue across Joel’s bottom lip, nipping at it and trying your best to get him to open his mouth up for you. He obliges finally, but not before he takes the reins. He smartly controls your tongue with his, heavily breathing through his nose as the kiss becomes even more heated. You wiggle your hips slightly against Joel’s lap, trying to get a little bit of friction. His grip on you tightens when your core presses against his at a delicious angle. You moan into Joel’s mouth quietly, which drives him crazy. He wants to hear you moan louder. So, he sneaks his hands up from your hips under your shirt and to your breasts, giving them a harsh squeeze. A whimper leaves your mouth as you grind your hips against Joel harder than before. Before you can react, Joel moves you off his lap back onto the couch, and he moves to the floor onto his knees in front of you. He moves his hands to the fly of your jeans, deftly unbuttoning and unzipping them before pulling them down your legs. 

You feel dizzy with the whirlwind of everything happening so quickly, but your heart is racing in your chest in a good way, and you grow wet at the sight of Joel on his knees for you. He kisses and bites at your thighs, avoiding the area where you need him most. You squirm as his stubble tickles your delicate skin, and he spreads his hands on your thighs, pressing his palms down to keep your legs still. Joel’s breath hits your clothed core, sending chills up your body. He moves one of his hands to run a finger up your slit, a smirk growing on his face from the dampness that appears on your underwear. 

“Who’s got you this wet, hmm?” he hums, sinking his teeth into your thigh, making eye contact with you through his lashes.

“You,” you say shakily, putting your hand in Joel’s hair.

“Good,” he says, pulling the middle of your underwear from you and letting it snap back into place, eliciting a whine from you.

Joel peels your underwear off you, slowly gliding them down your legs before tossing them somewhere beside him. He carefully licks a stripe up your wet folds, gathering spit and arousal with his tongue before circling it around your clit and sucking it once before pulling away. Joel all but gawks at the sight of you, all wet for him and only him. One thing he loved about sex with you was how soaked he could get you. Joel laps at you, the sound of your wetness the only sound in the room other than your shaky breaths. Joel rests your calves on his shoulders, allowing him to shove his face closer into you. He sticks his tongue inside you as far as you’ll allow, licking around and twisting his tongue in languid movements. A cry escapes your lips at the feeling of his index and middle finger pinching at your clit as his tongue fucks you. 

“You taste so good,” Joel groans, pulling back from you momentarily before delving right back in without mercy.

His fingers dig into your calf and shin muscles as he sucks and licks you up. You bite your lip to not moan too loudly for others in the building to hear. You grasp at your breasts through your shirt as Joel assaults your clit with his tongue and lips, sucking at it harshly. The feeling causes electricity to spread through your body as a familiar warmth stirs in the pit of your stomach. Your fingers in Joel’s hair curl and pull as a warning, and he continues his rhythm of nipping and sucking your clit between his teeth and tongue. One particular roll of it suddenly sends you over the edge, and you’re writhing around on the couch as you all but gush all over Joel’s face.

“Sorry,” you say shyly, trying to catch your breath as you watch Joel wipe his face with his jacket.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Joel shakes his head.

“Do you want me to?” you ask, motioning toward his bulge.

“No, it’s fine,” Joel waves a hand at you, putting his jacket back on.

“You’re acting weird,” you say without thinking.

“How so?” Joel pauses.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Joel says, “I just have to go.”

You figure he had something to do. He always does, but why come here for a goodbye and a quickie and suddenly leave? This was probably the last time you’d see Joel again, and he’s just abruptly leaving after giving you an earth-shattering orgasm. 

“So fast?” you ask, fumbling for your underwear and jeans from the floor, “You just got here.”

Joel stands up straight, wordlessly looking at you the way he does when he’s trying to reiterate his point. You purse your lips and glared at him.

“This could be the last time we see each other, Joel. Please stay for a little while longer instead of just fucking me and leaving like always.”

“Please, don’t make this worse than it already is.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “What are you talking about?”

“Yes, this could be the last time we ever see each other again. And I don’t want to drag it out because it hurts,” Joel looks down at the floor, unable to look you in the eye.

“Are you sure that’s why you’re acting this way?” you say. You have a feeling there’s something more.

“I’m not acting any sort of way,” Joel says coldly.

“Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago. Either I did or said something, or you’re hiding something from me.”

“I love you,” Joel spits.

You physically react, leaning back into the couch. You cross your arms, “That’s not fair, Joel.”

“I know it isn’t fair. That’s why I’m upset. Because I love you, and I fucked up, and now I’m leaving.”

You stay quiet, looking him in the eyes. You take a deep breath, “I love you too.”

You stand up from the dusty couch, taking a few steps to be directly in front of Joel. You tentatively wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. He wraps his arms around your waist, squeezing you tightly to his body like he’s afraid you’ll disappear forever if he lets go. But he has to. He has to let go. And so do you.

So you do. And after that, you don’t see Joel again. But you know he’s probably taking good care of himself wherever he is and that he found Tommy. Not a day goes by when you don’t think about him in some fashion. But eventually, you let go completely.

[floralcyanide]

At the Bottom

Austin Butler x Reader

request:

angst prompt #2: “It’s my fault, I didn’t listen to everyone saying this would be a mistake!” by @jolovesfandoms

warnings: angst, unrequited love

summary: You're getting married to the love of your life, but will that all come crashing down because of a confession?

word count: 1112

author’s note:hiii thanks again for 2k followers! here is the first request! I hope everyone enjoys it even though it's angsty lol

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here | 2k celebration prompts here | request a prompt here or in my asks.

“I watched you throw out your bouquet, now I think about you every day. I’m alone now in my bed.”

Today, you’re getting married. It’s supposed to be the most magical and amazing day of your life. But so far, it’s been really stressful and nerve-wracking. Your photographer is running late, rain clouds are beginning to form on the horizon, and your best friend has decided to confess his undying love for you.

You don’t know that yet, though. Currently, you’re standing in the courtyard of the venue as rain begins to fall softly, and you cringe as it hits your skin. Austin needed to talk to you about something, and he’s nowhere to be found as the rain starts falling faster. Shielding your face from the rain, you look around and finally spot Austin jogging over to you.

“Should we go inside now?” you ask as he approaches.

“What I need to tell you isn’t something I want others to hear,” Austin grimaces.

You furrow your eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

Taking a deep breath before slowly exhaling, Austin runs a hand through his hair, “I’m in love with you.”

Your blood runs cold, numbing your body as you search for the words to respond with. His words play over and over in your head. I’m in love with you. You can’t decipher if you’re angry because you gave up on your feelings for Austin long ago when you realized it would never be mutual, or because he decided to return those feelings today of all days. Either way, anger and grief have gathered up in your eyes and begun to spill down your cheeks.

“No,” you say, lip trembling, “You’re lying. Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” Austin reaches his hands out to grab yours, but you yank them away from his grasp.

“I loved you for so damn long, Austin,” you whisper, shaking your head at him, “I loved you for so long, but you never saw it. You never saw me.”

“I’ve always seen you-”

Austin pauses as one of your other close friends runs up to you, “Are you okay? Is everything alright over here?”

“Everything is fine. I was just about to come inside,” you lie, gently tapping at the corners of your eyes, trying not to make your face blotchy and swollen.

Your friend eyes Austin carefully before turning to you, “Let’s get you inside. We need to hurry and fix you up.”

What are you supposed to do now? Thinking about marrying your partner after knowing the person you were deeply in love with loves you back seems very difficult. You don’t say a single word or answer anyone’s questions as you pass by friends and family on your way to the wardrobe room. Everyone begins whispering about the obvious tears in your eyes. Soon enough, word gets to your fiance that you’re upset. You’re holed up in the wardrobe room of the venue, face in your hands, when they knock on the door.

“Is everything alright, sweetheart?” 

You sniff, uncovering your face, so your voice is clear, “Everything is fine.”

“You can tell me anything, you know,” your fiance says through the door.

“Yeah, I do,” you frown.

You’ve been thinking about how to bring up the situation with them, but only two options come up. One, you tell them you don’t know who to choose, and you cancel the wedding. Two, you tell them Austin has feelings for you, pretend you don’t reciprocate them, and get married to your fiance. Either way, you’re going to lose someone you love today. So, you decide just to tell them Austin confessed and see how they answer,

“Then tell me what’s going on, love.”

You stand up from the chair you were sitting in and begin pacing the room, your teeth worrying at your bottom lip.

“Austin told me he is in love with me,” you blurt out.

“Oh,” your fiance says plainly. A brief moment of silence follows until they clear their throat, “I kind of know that already. I think everyone does.”

Your eyes widen in shock and then squint in anger, “Am I seriously the last one to find out?”

“It appears that way,” your fiance chuckles.

“I wish I could find it funny, but I don’t. I loved him- I don’t know what to think, I don’t know what to do,” you stutter, gliding your hands into your hair and pulling at it in distress.

“It’s okay. Just think about it and decide what you think is right.”

A minute passes before you speak up, “Okay.”

And you do think about it. About an hour passes before you finally decide to continue with the wedding. As much as it hurts you and as much as it’s going to hurt Austin, you really love and care about your fiance. And you aren’t about to call off your wedding because Austin waited too late to say how he felt, much less waited until the day you were getting married. Not to mention now that this has happened, along with the photographer never showing up, the wedding has to be rescheduled.

You finally unlock the door and head downstairs to the courtyard, where Austin has remained this whole time. His forearms are resting upon his knees with his head hanging in embarrassment.

“Hi,” you say as you quietly approach Austin.

He looks up, “Hi.”

You take a deep breath, “You can leave, we’re doing this another day.”

“The wedding? I didn’t ruin it did I?” Austin frowns.

You purse your lips together, “It isn’t completely your fault, Aus.”

He sighs, “It is my fault, I didn’t listen to everyone saying this would be a mistake.”

“I’m sorry,” you look down at your feet as tears well in your eyes, “You’re just too late.”

“I understand,” Austin mutters. 

You pull him into a hug, and after a moment of not returning it, he finally wraps his arms around you.

“I’m sorry I was too late. If I had told you before, how would you have felt?”

“I love you,” you say sadly, pulling away from the embrace, “But waiting until the day I’m marrying someone else is not acceptable. I wish you would’ve said something sooner. I’m sorry.”

Austin nods, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I guess I’ll head out, then.”

“Alright. I’ll see you around?” you ask.

“Sure,” Austin smiles solemnly.

The two of you remain friends after that, but it isn’t the same. You end up marrying your fiance a few weeks later without issue. To this day, you still think about Austin and wonder how different things would have been had he told you sooner. But, you don’t dwell on it. You’re happy with your partner, and that’s what matters.

taglist:

@anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @austinbutler17 @misspygmypie @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @thatonemoviefan @sarachacha @kittenlittle24 @tubble-wubble @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @amiets2 @mrs-butler @ari-nicole @austin-butlers-gf @feral4austinbutler @inlovewithchrisevans @shynovelist @mommy-maia @karamelcoveredolicity @thtguyovrthere @starry-night-20 @coldonexx @hangmanswhorey @mavericksicybabe @bobthefishiesworld @myguiltypleasures21 @rainydayz101 @finelineskies @cryingabtab @kaitaesupremacy @ash-omalley @latenighttalking13 @tom-whore-dleston @every-dayiwakeup @butlerslut @rosepresley @fangirl125reader @dre6ming @butlerettes @inthegardensofourminds @edgeofrealitys-blog

[floralcyanide]

Last Chance to Lose Your Keys

Austin Butler x Reader

request: Can you write a fanfic we’re Austin is so madly in love with the reader and wants to be more then friends they start dating and have the time of their life while together. And the reader can be whatever you want and the story can also be who ever you want. But can the two have a kiss I the fanfic at times. by @austinstyles

warnings: from Austin's POV, gender neutral reader, fluff.

summary: Austin has some trouble with how he feels about you, but what he doesn't know is that you feel the same.

word count:1063

author’s note: hello hello! here's the 4th request for my 2k celebration! I hope everyone enjoys (:

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here | 2k celebration prompts here | request a prompt here or in my asks.

"I've been thinking about you and me girl, and we've got something going on.”

You’ve got this. You’ve totally got this.

I brush off my button-up for the tenth time, trying my best to get rid of the non-existent wrinkles. I tousle my freshly cut hair a little again, studying my reflection in the mirror timidly. Shaking myself out, I take a few deep breaths before forcing myself away from the mirror and out of my bedroom. I quickly grab my keys and head out of the front door, trying to convince myself that my plan will go exactly how I keep imagining it. Today was going to be the day.

Trying to keep myself pumped up, I played some Elvis on the way to Y/N’s house. We were having a movie night like we always do every weekend, but this time it was different. This time, I’m telling them how I feel about them. Usually, I’m cool and collected, but whenever I’m around them, that facade just melts away. I find myself stuttering and struggling to find the right words to say. I get this fluttery feeling in my stomach, and my heart races every time we hang out. We’ve been friends for so long, and a part of me is afraid they don’t feel the same about me. But I guess we’re about to find out. 

When I pull up to Y/N’s place, my heart begins to thump wildly in my chest, and my palms start feeling clammy. I remind myself to take deep breaths, so I don’t get too overwhelmed. I force myself out of my car and make my way toward their front door. I stand there awkwardly for a moment, wondering if I should knock on the door and go through with this. What if they don’t feel the same? What if they laugh in my face? What if-

“Hey, Aus! You okay?” they open the door, their face falling in concern at my visible nervousness.

“Oh, yeah, of course! Just had too much coffee, is all,” I lie, smiling to cover it up.

Y/N steps aside for me to walk through the doorway, and I enter their place. They go to sit on the couch and motion for me to join them. There are snacks all over the coffee table, ranging from popcorn to sweets. I sit down on the couch but not directly next to them. They furrow their eyebrows at me for a moment but then focus their attention on the tv.

“So, what are we watching tonight?” they ask me, scrolling through the various streaming apps.

“I haven’t had time to think about that,” I say, “Maybe we can finish watching that show we started a few weeks ago?”

“Good idea,” Y/N says, opening Netflix.

I try to focus on the show, but my mind wanders anxiously. How do I bring up that I need to talk to them without worrying them? What do I even say? I can’t just blurt out, “Hey! I am lowkey in love with you!” I try to push away the thoughts, turning my attention back on the show. But still, my imagination keeps getting the best of me. For a while, everything seems fine. Well, to me, anyway. We’re into our second episode of the night when Y/N suddenly pauses the show.

“Are you okay? You’re acting weird,” they frown, studying my face for any giveaways.

“Of course I’m okay, and why do you say that?” I scratch my head.

“Because you have hardly said a word so far, you haven’t dug into any snacks, and this show always makes you laugh, and you haven’t laughed once.”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair, “I’ve been thinking about you and I. A lot.”

“What about you and I?” they ask, a concerned expression still etched on their face.

“I have feelings for you,” I gulp.

A look of realization crosses their face, and then a big smile.

“So you’re telling me the Austin Butler has a crush on me?” Y/N jokes.

“Yes,” I say, nervously looking them in the eye, searching for any hint of rejection.

“I have feelings for you too, I’m not gonna lie,” they confess, scratching the back of their neck, “I figured I’d have to hide it forever, but I’m glad I don’t have to anymore.”

“Really?” I ask, raising my eyebrows in surprise. They like me back?

“Yes, really,” they chuckle, “But the thing is, what are we gonna do about it?”

“I have a few ideas,” I say, feeling bold.

“And what are they?”

“This,” I say, moving closer to Y/N and grabbing the back of their neck, pulling them into a kiss.

They kiss back, and I try not to smile into the embrace. Finally.

The rest of the evening is spent watching the show and cuddling on the couch. We decided to take things slow and plan a first date, nothing too serious. A coffee date that following Monday is the final decision. We sit in the back of the coffeehouse, where it’s somewhat private, and we often sneak kisses when there’s no one around. 

“I like kissing you,” Y/N smiles when she pulls away from yet another kiss.

“I like kissing you, too,” I smile back, and it feels like there are hearts where my eyes should be.

That Friday, we went out to dinner and had a great time. When we leave, I sneak my hand into theirs as we walk to the car. They beam at me, their face bashful at the gesture. We arrive at their home, and I walk them to their door, our hands still grasping each other. 

“I had fun,” Y/N says, and I nod in agreement.

“We should definitely do it again sometime,” I say, looking into their eyes.

They lean into me, connecting our lips for the first time tonight. I let go of their hand, running my now free hand around the back of their head and through their hair. After a few minutes, we both reluctantly pulled away.

“See you later,” they say, smiling at me before heading inside.

I stand there momentarily, wondering how I should surprise them with another date. As I walk back to the car, I keep mentally pinching myself because I can’t believe this is real and they like me back. I never thought I’d be so lucky.

taglist:

@anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @austinbutler17 @misspygmypie @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @thatonemoviefan @sarachacha @kittenlittle24 @alltheflowerstomav @tubble-wubble @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @amiets2 @mrs-butler @ari-nicole @austin-butlers-gf @feral4austinbutler @inlovewithchrisevans @shynovelist @mommy-maia @karamelcoveredolicity @thtguyovrthere @starry-night-20 @coldonexx @hangmanswhorey @mavericksicybabe @coco-bitch @bobthefishiesworld @emmymaehereeeeee @myguiltypleasures21 @rainydayz101 @finelineskies @cryingabtab @kaitaesupremacy @ash-omalley @latenighttalking13 @tom-whore-dleston @cece05 @poppet05 @every-dayiwakeup  @whore-for-hewitt @butlerslut @rosepresley @fangirl125reader

[floralcyanide]

Soco Amaretto Lime

Jerry Schilling x Reader Smut

request: congrats on 2k!! could i get 12: “I could make you feel better.” w mister jerry schilling?? i love him sm 🙏🏾 by @dilfelvis

hi its mila!! congratulations on 2k 💕 💕 6. “My tongue still remembers the way you taste.” by @sassy-ahsoka-tano

smut prompt #12: "I could make you feel better."

smut prompt #6: "My tongue still remembers the way you taste."

warnings: gender neutral/ afab!reader, smut, mentions of alcohol, underage alcohol consumption, brief cigarette smoking, inexperience, oral (afab receiving), fingering, oral (m receiving), cum eating, throat fucking, all the fun stuff.

summary: When your new neighbor Elvis Presley becomes your best friend, you meet one of his other friends, Jerry. The two of you share a special night together, only to never see each other again. At least, not for many years. What happens when you finally meet again?

word count: 4317

author’s note: welcome to request 5 of my 2k celebration! I have a soft spot for Jerry so this was super fun to write!! I hope everyone enjoys!! (: also, the timeline in this fic is kinda altered because Jerry would've been 18 in 1960, but for plot purposes, we'll say he was 18 in 1954 instead. also I kinda got carried away with the plot I had in my head so I'm sorry if this is kinda long lmao. also if it doesn't flow smoothly, I wrote half of this on campus earlier, and the rest just now so oop. (I don't feel like proof reading my stuff anymore atp sorry lol)

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here | 2k celebration prompts here | request a prompt here or in my asks.

"I'm gonna stay eighteen forever, so we can stay like this forever.”

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Your neighbor and new best friend, Elvis Presley, was throwing a small get-together at his big house down the road from yours. He’s invited you, insisting that you meet his other friends and family. You oblige, deciding that getting out of the house would be good for you. Besides, you got a nice new outfit you wanted to show off. Maybe you’ll make some new friends.

You’re studying yourself in the mirror, repeatedly fixing your hair to get it just right. You aren’t impressing anyone in particular, but you never know. Dusting yourself off, you head downstairs and bid farewell to your parents as you swing the front door open. You begin your half-mile trek to the Presleys, kicking at rocks in your way every now and then. It’s a mild day temperature-wise, so you aren’t surprised to see Elvis tossing a football back and forth to some of his friends when you finally reach Graceland. Elvis spots you and immediately waves you over to him excitedly.

“Hey! I’m glad you made it,” he yells, tossing the football to one of his buddies before meeting you halfway in the yard, “Let me introduce you to some people.”

You follow Elvis to where his friends are standing and talking amongst each other. They pause when they notice the two of you approach.

“This is cousin Billy,” Elvis gestures to a boy with dark hair, “This is Roger,” he then points to another guy with red hair, but your eyes land on the taller person next to him with sandy hair.

“This is Jerry. Say hi, Jerry,” Elvis slaps a hand onto his shoulder, grinning at you.

“Hi,” Jerry says a bit awkwardly, but you smile at him.

“Everyone, this is Y/N. They live down the road,” Elvis returns to his spot next to you.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N!” Billy says, and Roger nods at you. Jerry remains quiet, looking down at his feet.

“Don’t mind Jerry, he’s a little shy is all,” Elvis jokes, causing Jerry’s face to flush slightly.

“I completely understand. I’m kinda shy too sometimes,” you say, trying to make the sandy-haired boy feel better.

“Now, who wants to play some football?” Elvis grins, motioning for Billy to toss the football back to him.

The five of you play a few football games before Gladys beckons everyone inside to get washed up for lunch. Three of the guys make a beeline to the front door while you hang back with Jerry, who is moving a little slower.

“So,” you say, walking alongside him, “How old are you?”

“I’m eighteen,” he says, glancing over at you, “How about you?”

“Same,” you say, shielding your eyes from the glaring sun, “How do you know Elvis?”

“Believe it or not, we met playing football several years back,” Jerry chuckles, opening up to you a little.

“Really? That’s fun. Do you guys play football a lot?” 

“It’s few and far between now that Elvis is getting attention for his singing, but he tries to make time,” Jerry says, opening the door and letting you walk inside ahead of him.

“That’s good! I’m glad Elvis makes time for the little stuff,” you turn around to look at Jerry and walk with him to the washroom.

The both of you take turns washing up before heading to the dining room, where everyone but Billy is seated.

“Billy! Hurry up!” Elvis calls from the table, where everyone has now sat down.

“Imma comin’!” Billy shouts back from the kitchen.

He comes out with a pitcher of sweet tea and carefully sits it down at the center of the table before taking a seat across from Jerry, who is next to you. Everyone enjoys lunch and casually converses, including you and Jerry. You learn a lot about his everyday life, and he learns about yours. Every now and then, you’ll look up to see Elvis smirking at you knowingly. You just roll your eyes at him and look away.

The afternoon seems to go by quickly after lunch. You and the group of guys gather in the living room, and Elvis plays his vinyl collection. You all take turns dancing with each other.

“Would you care for a dance?” Jerry asks abashedly, scratching the back of his neck while avoiding eye contact.

“I’d love to,” you smile, taking Jerry’s offered hand.

The boys all watch the two of you dance in rhythm to the music. Billy nudges Elvis, who is still nose deep in his collection, searching for the next one to play. Elvis observes Jerry and you carefully, a smile growing on his face at the sight of his friends getting along.

The album ends, and Elvis and his friends all clap at your dancing skills, and you take a bow with your face burning in slight embarrassment. Jerry just stands next to you with a blush taunting his cheeks. You glance at the clock, noticing it is almost time for dinner at your house.

“Well, I best get going,” you sigh, turning to Jerry, “It was nice meeting you!”

“You too,” he says, his gaze lingering on you as you bid farewell to everyone else.

As you leave, you wonder if you’ll see Jerry again.

It’s now nearing ten at night, and you’re still in your clothes, lying on your bedroom floor as you listen to your favorite album. All you’ve been able to think about all evening is Jerry. You don’t know him extremely well, but well enough to have taken a liking to him. You wonder if he’s thinking about you the way you’re thinking about him. Suddenly, your thoughts are interrupted by a sharp noise. You sit up and look around, unsure where the noise came from. It happens again, and you realize it’s coming from your bedroom window. You quickly get up and go to investigate. Resting your hands on your windowsill, you peer out of the glass, and your eyes fall onto someone standing in the yard.

“Jerry?” you wonder to yourself as you open the window.

“Jerry, what are you doing? It’s late,” you scold, looking behind you to ensure your parents aren’t coming.

“I just wanted to see you,” Jerry shrugs.

You sigh, wondering how you two could hang out without getting caught. Then, you remember your treehouse that’s in the backyard. 

“Do you see that treehouse in the back?” you ask quietly.

Jerry steps backward, studying the dimly lit backyard before nodding.

“Meet me there,” you say, fighting a giddy grin.

“Alright,” Jerry says.

You pull away from the window before shutting it, smoothing out any wrinkles on your outfit hurriedly as you look around for your shoes. Before leaving your bedroom, you go to your dresser and fish out a pack of cigarettes you’ve hidden from your parents. You didn’t smoke often, but you thought it’d be fun to do with Jerry if he also smoked.

Shutting your bedroom door quietly, you tiptoe down the hall, down the stairs, and through the living room and kitchen to the back door. You shut the door behind you, sneaking through the dewy grass to the treehouse ladder. You climb up and finally reach the top to see Jerry sitting in the corner, waiting for you.

“Hi,” you say, sitting across from him.

“Hi,” he says back.

You look around the treehouse for a moment before spotting the outline of a lantern you left up there, switching it on. There was enough light for you to see the bottle next to Jerry that he brought with him. You raise an eyebrow.

“Elvis got me a bottle to bring to you,” he says, noticing my curiosity, “But you don’t have to drink it if you don’t wanna.”

You shrug, “I don’t mind it. Do you smoke?”

“Only when I’m drinkin’.” Jerry chuckles.

“Alright,” you grin, handing him the pack of smokes with the lighter.

He offers you the bottle, and you break the seal, taking a swig. Your face twists into disgust as the alcohol burns down your throat, “That’s retched.”

Jerry laughs as he lights up a cigarette, taking a puff before handing it to you and taking the bottle from your hands.

“It’s whiskey, it’s not supposed to taste good,” he jokes.

You shrug, lighting your cigarette and taking a drag, “I don’t drink whiskey, so,” you trail off.

The two of you pass the bottle back and forth, taking puffs of your cigarettes as the bottle begins to empty quickly. You’re both now lying on the treehouse floor, staring up at the stars through the open roof, and you’re giggling over something Jerry had said about Elvis. You’re glad to see Jerry’s shyness slowly slip away the more the two of you drink. You both fall silent, and you start thinking about how you probably won’t see Elvis as much anymore with him becoming more musically successful. This also means you may not see Jerry anymore.

Jerry turns his head away from the sky and looks at you for a moment.

“I can hear you thinking too hard.”

You turn your head to look at him, “I’m just thinking about how I may not get to see Elvis as often since he’s getting famous.”

Jerry hums in response.

“And I may not get to see you as often either.”

This causes Jerry to turn his head back in your direction, his blue eyes scanning your face closely.

“You wanna see me?” he questions, “Usually, people care more about Elvis.”

“Well, I care about him, of course. But I care about you in a different way,” you say, focusing on the stars as if they’ll give you the courage to tell Jerry you like him.

“How so?”

You bite your lip, eyes burning into one particularly bright star, “I kinda like you.”

“Only kinda?” Jerry jokes, trying to lighten your obvious tenseness.

You turn to look at him, rolling your eyes and letting out a scoff, “You know what I mean, Jerry.”

“I do,” he says, “But I’d like to see you prove it.”

“How so?” you say mockingly, repeating his words from moments ago.

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“No,” you say, “I really don’t.”

Jerry sits up and offers his hands to pull you up with him. You take them and lift yourself from the wooden floor of the treehouse. You almost don’t want to let go of his hands for a second, but he releases your grasp before you can decide.

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?” Jerry asks, and you furrow your eyebrows.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, I’m trying to ask if you’ve ever kissed anyone without blatantly asking. Because I want you to kiss me.”

“Oh,” you say, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, “You could’ve just asked.”

“You know I’m not good with being out there with other people,” Jerry says, his drunken honesty showing.

“True,” you giggle.

You stare into Jerry’s eyes, moving closer to him. 

Both of your knees are pressed against his, your body almost involuntarily moving closer to his because of the intoxicating proximity. The truth is, you’ve kissed a boy before. But not one that you were attracted to like you were with Jerry. You glance down at his lips as you lean into him, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek. You close your eyes before letting your lips press to his. And it feels like magic when you do, even if that seems cheesy. Jerry cards his fingers through your hair, pulling you as close as possible. You open your mouth slightly to run your tongue along his bottom lip, and he allows you to slip it inside his mouth. But before you can fully take over the kiss, Jerry dominates your mouth with his tongue. You let him, feeling dizzy with growing lust. You’ve never done anything other than make out in your whole life, so the more intense the kiss gets, the dizzier you feel.

Jerry pulls away for a moment, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“Sorry, I don’t want to move too fast if you don’t want-”

You interrupt Jerry by gently kissing along his jaw, nipping at the skin lightly as he shakily inhales. You return to his lips, kissing him deeply. He returns the kiss with equal passion, his fingers curling into your hair and pulling a little. You quietly moan at the motion, allowing Jerry to slip his tongue back into your mouth. As the kiss gets more heated, you climb onto Jerry’s lap, much to his surprise. He removes his hand from your hair and places both hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin when you press your core against his. Jerry pulls away from the kiss again; this time, his eyes are no longer blue from how large his pupils have grown.

“I uh,” he says, unable to look away from your lips and unable to look you in the eye, “I’ve never done anything like this.”

“Me either,” you say, “I can stop if you want me to-”

“No,” Jerry says, stroking your face, “I want to take care of you.”

Jerry slowly guides you off his lap, “Lay down.”

You do as told, and Jerry hovers over you, giving you a kiss before slowly making his way down your neck. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on your skin until he reaches the top of your shirt. He pulls the hem up to reveal your stomach, where he continues to pepper kisses, and you fight the urge to laugh from how it tickles. 

Jerry runs a finger along the waistband of your bottoms, “Is this okay to take off?”

“Yes,” you say, growing slightly nervous.

You’ve never let anyone near you like this before, so you’re a little worried. You’re a little drunk but trust Jerry nonetheless. Besides, sober you wouldn’t allow yourself to be so bold and willing. At least you aren’t alone in not having done anything sexual in your life, so you don’t expect this situation to be perfect. But hopefully, it’ll still be fun. You push your nerves away as Jerry pulls down your bottoms and underwear simultaneously, gently laying them next to your legs. You almost feel the urge to cover up as Jerry has his eyes on your half-naked body. He leans down on his forearms before moving his face downward. You feel his breath against your sensitive skin. Carefully, Jerry licks a stripe up your slit, gathering the small amount of arousal that resulted from the intense make-out session. He circles his tongue experimentally around your clit when he finds it, which makes you let out a shaky moan. It feels too good. Jerry continues the exhilarating movement, going faster as you let out the slightest noise. Your hands fly to his sandy hair when he dips his tongue into you, lapping at the growing wetness. He runs his tongue up and down your slit before gathering up spit and letting it fall onto your bundle of nerves. Jerry then swirls his tongue around it again, nipping at it with his teeth very softly to see how you react. You accidentally let out a loud moan, and your hand covers your mouth quickly. Jerry chuckles before he envelops your clit with his lips, sucking lightly and gauging your reaction with his pupil-blown eyes. You look down at him, your mouth covering your muffled moans. Jerry starts to suck a tad harder, before switching between kitten-licking at the bud and sucking harshly. You try your best not to wiggle around or make any noise, but the way Jerry makes you feel is making it difficult.

Jerry then gathers your slick with a finger, still assaulting your clit as he gently pushes in a finger. When he curls it, you have to bite down on your knuckle to keep quiet. Shortly after, Jerry adds another finger, and then a third as you grow impossibly wetter from the stimulation. He finds the sensitive spot inside of you, rubbing it with his fingers as he licks your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re so close to orgasm, and it’s an intense feeling. Your stomach is in knots, and your body shakes from the newly experienced pleasure. Your thighs clamp around Jerry’s head as the knots come undone, pleasure overcoming you in waves. Your chest heaves as Jerry licks you and his fingers clean. He sits up and watches you twitch from your orgasm, softly running a hand over your thigh.

“That was,” you say shakily, “That was amazing. How did you know to do all of that?”

“I’ve seen some things but have never done it until now,” Jerry says, his face turning red.

He helps you get your bottoms back on after you offer to take care of him. He politely declines, saying it could be saved for next time. 

Except, that would be the last time you saw Jerry. Elvis rose to fame very quickly, and Jerry and cousin Billy joined him on tour, and every tour after that. Years go by, and you never forget your first time with Jerry. You don’t blame him for not seeing you again. He had things to do and take care of. When you’re 21, you finally move out to California for school. You finish school and work odd-ended jobs for a few years until you see that an opening for an internship at NBC is available. On your first day as an intern, you meet producer Steve Binder, who offers you a job as his assistant. This job could open doors for you while you get experience. You accept it right away. 

One day, Steve excitedly tells you about an idea for a comeback special for Elvis Presley. You perk up at this idea, hoping, after all this time, that you’d be able to see your friend again. It’s been nearly 15 years since you last saw Elvis, and so much has happened since then. It’s also been almost 15 years since you last saw Jerry. You and Steve work together to develop ideas for the special, bouncing stuff back and forth daily. 

The day you’ve been waiting for finally arrives when Elvis enters Steve’s office to talk to him. Steve is currently doing something else, so you’re in his office instead, organizing some papers. When Elvis enters the room, you almost don’t hear him.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

Your head snaps up at the familiar voice.

“The one and only,” you say, a huge smile spreading across your face, “How have you been?”

Elvis chuckles, walking over to you, “I’ve been dealing. How about you? I never thought I’d see you at NBC.”

“I’ve been wonderful. I came here for university a long time ago and decided to stay,” you explain, and Elvis nods.

“Jerry will be here in a second if you wanna say hi to him,” Elvis says.

“I’d love to,” you say, suddenly feeling nervous at the thought of seeing Jerry again.

You and Elvis continue the conversation until there’s a knock on the doorframe.

“Steve is on his way.”

You look over to see a much older Jerry with longer hair standing in the doorway. His eyes meet yours for a moment before he recognizes you. But before he can say anything, Steve approaches, and everyone dives into a conversation about the special.

You find yourself alone in the hallway outside of Steve’s office after the guys leave, and Steve shows them around the studio. You’re leaning against the wall, flipping through stapled pages of the plan for the special so far. You’re focused on reading until someone taps your shoulder. Turning around, you’re surprised to see Jerry behind you.

“Hi,” you say, surprised.

“Hi,” he says, looking you up and down not-so-subtly.

“It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” Jerry looks down, “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s alright, I understand,” you say, “You got very busy very fast.”

“You moved away,” Jerry frowns.

“I did. I moved here for school.”

“Makes sense,” Jerry smiles, “I know you wanted to get into this business.”

You’re surprised he remembers anything you told him about yourself.

“You look good,” you say, eyeing Jerry carefully, taking in how much he’s changed. It was obviously a good change. He is still very much attractive to you.

“So do you,” Jerry says, stepping closer to you, “Are you doing anything right now?”

“Not really, just waiting for Steve’s next appointment in,” you glance down at your watch, “About an hour.”

“Wanna kill some time?” Jerry asks, his eyes not tearing away from you.

“What do you suggest?” you ask, trailing your eyes up his body, knowing what he’s hinting at.

“Follow me, and you’ll find out,” Jerry says, offering a hand for you to take.

For a moment, you hesitate. Did you really want to have sex with Jerry? Not to mention you’re in your workplace- did you want to risk getting caught? But you can't say no when his blue, familiar eyes meet yours. So you throw caution to the wind and take his hand. 

Jerry leads you to a private restroom toward the basement where no one would likely intrude.

“How romantic,” you joke as he opens the restroom door for you to enter.

When Jerry flips the light on and closes the door while locking it, you get down on your knees. You never forgot about him saying he’d let you take care of him the next time, even if that next time was a decade and a half later. So you were ready. Jerry turns around and looks down at you, surprised at your eagerness.

“You said I could take care of you the next time,” you say, running your tongue along your bottom lip with your face level with his zipper, “It’s now the next time.”

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” Jerry says, placing a hand under your chin, his fingers gripping it softly.

“Well, you’re the only man who has ever made me cum while eating me out. It’s the least I can do,” you shrug.

It was true. You’ve been in many serious relationships over the years, but none of them could satisfy you with oral. It was a little tragic knowing that the best you ever had was when you were 18 by an inexperienced guy you had just met. 

“Really?” Jerry exhales, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“No man has ever made me feel good,” you pout, bringing a finger up to trace the outline of Jerry’s dick in his pants.

“That’s because only I could make you feel better, sweetheart,” Jerry lifts your head with his hand still under your chin, “And I will after you suck me off.”

You look up at him as he unbuttons his pants, pulling them and his underwear down, letting himself spring free. You immediately grab his length, circling your tongue around the tip as you feel him grow harder in your hand. Enveloping Jerry with your lips, you let him slide inside your mouth as far as you could allow him. Jerry’s hands steady your head, his fingers in your hair. With your hand, you pump the rest that wouldn’t fit in your mouth. Jerry’s head hits the restroom door he’s in front of, and a groan bubbles out of his mouth. His tip hits the back of your throat as you bob your head. Your hand and head set a rhythm, both moving back and a little faster with each movement. Jerry has to grip your hair in order not to thrust forward. You let go of his cock for a moment and grab both his hips, pulling them forward, wordlessly telling him you’ll allow him to fuck your mouth. 

“Fuck,” Jerry mutters, letting his hips snap forward sloppily. 

You nearly gag but breathe through your nose as best as Jerry’s cock slides down your throat. You hollow out your cheeks as your head bobs to his thrusts, creating a delectable rhythm that causes Jerry to moan. He grips your hair to keep your head still, fucking into your mouth quickly as obscene choking noises fill the room. You don’t mind, though. You thought about this experience many times when you were younger. Now that it’s come to fruition, you will gladly be cock drunk. Jerry’s pelvis slams into your face as he gets closer to the edge. You feel him twitching in your mouth with every erratic thrust. Jerry stills his movements, hot spurts of cum shooting down your throat and onto your tongue. Before he can offer a paper towel, you close your mouth and swallow. 

“You didn’t have to-”

“I know,” you shrug, “I don’t mind.”

Jerry just looks at you while completely blissed out, pulling his pants up.

“And you don’t have to make me feel better right now,” you say, standing up and dusting off your knees, “Maybe dinner first, and then you can make me feel better.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Jerry says.

You walk to the mirror to check your reflection, knowing you probably look like a wreck. Jerry walks behind you, running his hands along your hips as you wipe away the tears that gathered in the corners of your eyes from choking.

“You know,” Jerry leans into your ear, “My tongue still remembers the way you taste.”

A shiver runs up your spine at his words, “If you don’t shut your trap, I’ll take you right here and now, Schilling.”

“Sounds like a deal,” he smirks.

“I think I’m rather hungry, though. Do you think you could behave for a few more hours?” you tease, staring at him through the mirror’s reflection.

“I can, just as long as you behave too,” Jerry says.

“Sounds like a deal,” you repeat his words with a smile.

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