#grey vinyl tile floor

[lihvamay1990]

Kitchen Pantry Example of a large transitional l-shaped vinyl floor and gray floor kitchen pantry design with raised-panel cabinets, medium tone wood cabinets, granite countertops, beige backsplash, an undermount sink, stainless steel appliances and an island #grey vinyl tile floor, #double wall oven, #kitchen+, #3 pendants over island, #kitchen, #large kitchen island

[hekyll-jyde]

Kitchen Pantry Example of a large transitional l-shaped vinyl floor and gray floor kitchen pantry design with raised-panel cabinets, medium tone wood cabinets, granite countertops, beige backsplash, an undermount sink, stainless steel appliances and an island #grey vinyl tile floor, #double wall oven, #kitchen+, #3 pendants over island, #kitchen, #large kitchen island

[floorings101]

Modern Architectural Trends: The Rise of Vinyl Ramp Profiles

In the ever-evolving landscape of modern architecture, the pursuit of inclusive design and accessibility has become an integral aspect of creating spaces that cater to diverse needs. Among the innovative solutions contributing to this ethos, vinyl ramp profiles emerge as versatile and aesthetically pleasing components, seamlessly blending functionality with design. This article embarks on a journey into the realm of vinyl ramp profiles, exploring their significance in modern architecture, their adaptability in design, and their transformative role in fostering accessible environments.

Vinyl ramp profiles represent more than just a means of facilitating mobility; they embody a commitment to breaking down barriers and ensuring that spaces are welcoming to everyone. As we delve into their applications in modern architecture, we will uncover the versatility of these profiles in both design and function, examining how they harmonize with the principles of inclusive architecture.

From residential spaces that prioritize ease of movement to commercial environments striving to comply with accessibility standards, vinyl ramp profiles play a pivotal role in shaping the accessibility narrative. In this exploration, we will unravel the various design possibilities these profiles offer, providing architects, designers, and homeowners alike with insights into how vinyl ramp profiles can be seamlessly integrated into modern architectural styles.

As we navigate through the intersections of form and function, this article aims to showcase the transformative potential of vinyl ramp profiles in modern architecture. These unassuming components not only bridge physical gaps but also bridge the gap between practicality and aesthetics, demonstrating that accessibility in design can be both purposeful and visually appealing. Join us on this journey into the world of vinyl ramp profiles, where inclusivity meets innovation, and spaces are crafted to be truly accessible for all.

Versatility in Design and Function

In the dynamic realm of modern architecture, the integration of accessibility features has evolved beyond mere functionality to encompass a seamless fusion of design and purpose. Vinyl ramp profiles stand out as exemplars of this paradigm shift, offering unparalleled versatility in both aesthetic adaptability and functional efficiency.

Inclusive Design Principles

Adapting Spaces for Accessibility:

Vinyl ramp profiles serve as instrumental elements in the implementation of inclusive design principles. They provide a means to seamlessly integrate accessibility features into the architectural fabric, ensuring that spaces are welcoming and navigable for individuals with varying mobility needs.

The adaptability of vinyl ramp profiles allows architects to envision spaces where accessibility is not an afterthought but an integral part of the design process.

Seamless Transitions with Vinyl Ramp Profiles:

The versatility of vinyl ramp profiles lies in their ability to create smooth transitions between different elevations without compromising on design aesthetics. These profiles can be tailored to match the existing flooring, ensuring a cohesive and visually pleasing integration.

By facilitating seamless transitions, these profiles contribute to a design ethos that embraces diversity and prioritizes the creation of spaces where everyone can navigate with ease.

Aesthetics and Material Options

Exploring Design Possibilities:

Vinyl ramp profiles come in a myriad of designs, allowing architects and designers to explore a spectrum of possibilities. From sleek and minimalist to textured and patterned profiles, these elements can be customized to align with the overall design language of a space.

This exploration of design possibilities goes beyond mere accessibility solutions; it transforms these profiles into design elements that contribute to the overall visual identity of a space.

Vinyl Ramp Profiles in Harmony with Modern Architectural Styles:

Modern architecture often embraces clean lines, open spaces, and a minimalist aesthetic. Vinyl ramp profiles, with their contemporary designs and material options, seamlessly align with these architectural styles, becoming integral components that enhance rather than detract from the overall design vision.

The ability of vinyl ramp profiles to complement modern architectural styles further emphasizes their role in creating environments that are both accessible and visually cohesive.

In the synthesis of design and function, vinyl ramp profiles emerge as transformative elements that go beyond their utilitarian purpose. They embody the essence of inclusive design, where accessibility is seamlessly woven into the fabric of architecture, ensuring that spaces are not only accessible but also visually captivating. As architects and designers continue to explore the potential of vinyl ramp profiles, the boundaries of inclusive and aesthetically pleasing architecture are continually pushed, fostering environments that embrace diversity in both form and function.

Application in Residential and Commercial Spaces

Vinyl ramp profiles, with their versatile design and functional adaptability, find compelling applications in both residential and commercial settings. Their ability to seamlessly integrate into various architectural styles while enhancing accessibility makes them invaluable components for crafting inclusive environments in diverse spaces.

Residential Accessibility

Integrating Vinyl Ramp Profiles for Home Accessibility:

In residential architecture, the need for accessibility often arises without sacrificing the aesthetic appeal of the living space. Vinyl ramp profiles offer a discreet yet effective solution, allowing homeowners to create barrier-free transitions between different areas of the home.

Whether incorporated into entryways, thresholds, or indoor spaces, these profiles become discreet aids that enhance accessibility without compromising the overall design integrity of a residence.

Design Considerations for Residential Spaces:

The adaptability of vinyl ramp profiles extends to various design considerations within homes. From ensuring wheelchair access to different rooms to creating smooth transitions in bathrooms and kitchens, these profiles cater to the diverse needs of residents.

Homeowners and designers can select profiles that complement existing flooring materials, ensuring a cohesive design that prioritizes both aesthetics and accessibility.

Commercial Accessibility

Enhancing Public Spaces with Vinyl Ramp Profiles:

In commercial architecture, where public accessibility is not only a necessity but often a legal requirement, vinyl ramp profiles play a pivotal role in creating universally accessible spaces. Entrances, corridors, and common areas benefit from the seamless integration of these profiles, ensuring equal access for all.

The discreet nature of vinyl ramp profiles allows businesses to prioritize accessibility without compromising the overall ambiance of their establishments.

Compliance with Accessibility Standards in Commercial Design:

Vinyl ramp profiles contribute to compliance with accessibility standards such as the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). By providing a gradual incline for wheelchair users and individuals with mobility aids, these profiles ensure that commercial spaces are welcoming and inclusive.

Their use in commercial architecture signifies a commitment to social responsibility, creating environments that cater to the diverse needs of patrons and visitors.

In both residential and commercial applications, vinyl ramp profiles transcend their functional role to become integral components of architectural design. As architects, designers, and homeowners embrace the principles of inclusivity, the incorporation of these profiles ensures that accessibility becomes a seamless and harmonious aspect of the built environment. From private residences to bustling commercial establishments, vinyl ramp profiles exemplify the transformative potential of design solutions that prioritize both form and function.

Conclusion

In the tapestry of modern architecture, where inclusivity is a guiding principle and design innovation knows no bounds, vinyl ramp profiles stand as silent champions of accessible spaces. As we conclude our exploration into the transformative role of these profiles in contemporary architecture, it becomes evident that they are more than functional necessities – they are integral components that bridge the gap between universal accessibility and striking design.

Vinyl ramp profiles exemplify the essence of versatility, seamlessly adapting to both residential and commercial settings. In homes, they discreetly enhance accessibility, providing smooth transitions without compromising the aesthetics of the living space. In commercial environments, these profiles become symbols of a commitment to inclusivity, ensuring that everyone, regardless of mobility, can navigate public spaces with dignity.

The beauty of vinyl ramp profiles lies not only in their ability to facilitate accessibility but also in their capacity to harmonize with modern architectural styles. From minimalist designs that complement clean lines to textured profiles that add visual interest, these elements showcase how inclusive design can coexist seamlessly with the overall aesthetic vision of a space.

As architects, designers, and homeowners continue to push the boundaries of what is possible in modern architecture, vinyl ramp profiles remain at the forefront of this evolution. Their discreet yet impactful presence signifies a shift towards environments that prioritize the needs of all individuals, creating spaces that are not just visually captivating but universally accessible.

In the journey towards a more inclusive built environment, vinyl ramp profiles serve as a reminder that thoughtful design solutions can transcend their practical roles to become transformative elements. By weaving accessibility into the very fabric of modern architecture, these profiles contribute to a world where spaces are not defined by limitations but enriched by the diversity of those who inhabit them. May the integration of vinyl ramp profiles continue to shape the narrative of modern architecture, creating environments where everyone is not only welcomed but empowered to navigate and thrive.

[triciarkg]

Enclosed - Farmhouse Kitchen

[autumnlesterhowell]

Farmhouse Kitchen

[oldmanweldon]

Contemporary Bathroom (Seattle)

[nsfshews]

Lookout Basement (Montreal)

[funny-junks]

Montreal Home Bar

[betafishtank]

Jacksonville Powder Room Bathroom

[nutsamodebadze]

Seattle Contemporary Bathroom

[hellishjoel]

say my name 

8.5k / pairing: brat tamer!joel miller x f!reader

psycho masterlist main masterlist

summary: It’s Joel’s birthday, and his brother, Tommy, is in town to celebrate. You meet the more charming Miller for the first time, and the two of you flirt up a storm. By the end of the night, Joel’s pissed and jealous. But that doesn’t stop you from moaning Tommy’s name in bed. 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, brat tamer!Joel, somewhat established relationship (whatever that relationship may be ((situationship, relationship, etc.)), toxic!couple, swearing, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, slapping, degradation, praise kink, spitting, choking, blood, marking kink, creampie, pussy smacking (??), lots of dom!joel brought out by jealous!joel, overstimulation, Tommy being a flirt, angst, mentions of being cheated on, Joel being a menace, unprotected p in v (wrap your willy or whateva), half-ass editing tbh

A/N: happy birthday to Joel Miller!! I was picturing this entire prompt with pixel Joel, thanks to @macfrog - this part is based off this request sent in! 

You did a lot of stupid things tonight. Wearing your shortest dress, stalking Joel to his hangout with Tommy, flirting with his brother for the majority of the night. But now, you were ready to do the stupidest thing yet.  You moan into his ear, your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as you feel your orgasm begin to approach. “Fuck me, Tommy.” It hits Joel like a ton of bricks. All his movements pause. He pulls away just half an inch and stares down at you. A cold, downright mean look crosses his face once you’ve popped your eyes open to take a look at him. The room suffocates you in silence.  “What did you say?”

September 26th, 2023. It’s Joel’s forty-second birthday!

The thought alone riles you awake. You love birthdays. You especially love when it’s Joel’s birthday because he hates his birthday. You have no idea why, he looks more and more handsome with each year that he blows out a candle. 

You think about these things curled up into his side, chin on his chest while your fingers lightly grazed over his stippled grey chest hair. It was barely past the early morning hours. You gently trace over the etched lines in his forehead and between his brows. He must scowl at you even in his sleep. You should be asleep, too, especially after having spent the late hours of September 25th celebrating the end of Joel’s forty-first year with a bang. Literally.  

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, clutching his comforter to your bare chest as your panties are just out of reach on the floor a few feet from the bed. You huff and flee the warmth of his bed to retrieve them in as much silence as you can muster, watching him carefully let out a puff of air through his parted lips before lightly rolling over and spooning your pillow in the process. You stifle a giggle as you grab his t-shirt he threw off in the midst of getting handsy with you last night. 

“Happy last day of being forty-one, old timer.”

“Shut up and bend over.”

He always did have a way with words. 

You managed to sneak downstairs without Joel catching you in his arms. Your bare feet meet the cold tile of his kitchen floor. 

Joel’s home looked like you might imagine. Dark walls, not exactly black but not exactly grey or navy. He has a desk, a messy one that is littered with bills and invoices scattered with pencils that had the erasers shaved down to nothing. There was a large flat screen mounted to the wall, and a television console below it filled with old vinyl records and random CDs. He did have a few plants scattered around, and he actually took very good care of them. There were a few dishes in the sink from dinner last night. Empty beer cans on the half-wall by his back garage door. His keys and wallet were thrown haphazardly on the counter. 

These are the things that make you adore staying at Joel’s place, it was so homey and cozy. These were the things that made Joel, Joel. 

You throw your hair up and out of your way, finding the box of cake mix you stashed in the back of his pantry for this very special occasion. And just like that, you were a chef in Joel’s kitchen. Or was it a baker? 

Despite your best efforts, the cake was just a mess. And there were no redoes with cakes. And when you were shopping, you were thinking a little too much about yourself rather than Joel, so the cake was coated in pink icing. It was a shit cake, but you hoped Joel would like it. He wasn’t a guy with a big sweet tooth, but you’d force him to have a slice since this was your labor of love. 

U CAN’T PICK YOUR FATHER BUT U CAN PICK YOUR DADDY was lettered with red icing and cute pink assorted sprinkles. 

The smell of freshly baked cake woke him up. 

“You burnin’ somethin’?” Joel’s tired voice echoed in the kitchen. 

He was wearing grey sweats and his black boxers, the band peaking out from the top of his waistband as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. He looked like a big oaf fresh from sleep, shuffling past you to the oven and turning on the fan to air out the smoke and smell. 

“Ha-ha. Nothing’s that burnt. It’s your birthday cake!” You cooed as you showed him what you made. 

The word birthday was enough to make him roll his eyes. 

“Didn’t have to make me anythin’. Just another day.” He muttered but came up behind you to take a look at the cake nonetheless. You watched with a proud smile as the left side of his mouth quirked up upon reading the design. 

“Do you like it?” You asked, turning your back to the counter and letting his hips pin you there. His large, warm palm settled low on your waist. You watch as he swipes his index finger into the frosting, observing the sugary cream before his eyes set on yours. His orbs are as black as night as he offers you a taste. 

You maintain his eye contact as you lean in and wrap your mouth around his finger, hollowing your cheeks as you suckle it off and lap your tongue around the tip before letting him go with a soft smirk. 

“Like it ‘cause you made it. That’s all.” Joel’s chest hums as he speaks, his head ducking down to catch your lips in a delicate kiss. The delicate part doesn’t last for long. His kisses turn heavy, and his cock hardens against your thigh as he bends you backward against the counter. 

Your nails catch his shoulders in a desperate attempt not to smash into the cake. You know that if he gets too into this, he’ll end up pushing it aside so radically that your creation will end up on the floor, so you quickly nudge it out of reach before continuing. 

He’s hungry, his tongue lines your bottom lip, still coated in a sugary taste, before he explores the inside of your mouth dominantly. You’re whimpering in excitement as his possessive hands lift you up onto the counter, your baking instruments clattering around you and rolling, making a complete mess, but you don’t care. It’s Joel’s birthday, after all. 

You gasp into his mouth as he cups your clothed pussy and gently pats his fingers against you. The sensation makes your head fall back, and your eyes flutter closed. Your lips part just a fraction, Joel takes the opportunity to slip his tongue back inside to wrestle with your own. He pats you again, and you feel your panties grow a wet spot as white heat pools your insides. 

“Just how I like it, ready to be taken like a little slut in the mornin’.” His rigid voice growled, suppressing you of any strength you had left to resist collapsing across the counter. 

Both of you pause, irritated facial expressions matching when Joel’s phone starts to ring. 

Your heavy pants mingle in the air between you with indecision. You glare at him as he moves half an inch away, the grip on his shoulders tightening in need. Don’t pick it up, Joel. 

He closes his lips and lightly squints at you in disapproval as he stands up straight and starts toward his phone. You throw your head back and groan, slipping your hand over where his fingers just ghosted over the material of your panties. You lick your lips and watch him as he takes the call. He looks over the screen at the contact, his eyes shift to you. He’s hesitating. Not because he’s left you hot and heavy on the kitchen counter, but because he’s shielding his phone from you. 

So help me god, motherfucker, if I find out you’re cheating on me, I will-

Your nerves are settled when he huffs and swipes right to answer the call. “‘ey Tommy.” After a beat, Joel rolls his eyes to himself. “Yeah, yeah, thanks. Just another day.” 

Your eyes blink slowly. It was his brother you had yet to meet. You hum lightly as you sink your hand past the band of your panties, soft lace grazing your knuckles while you slip your fingers between your delicate folds. You slowly pry open the one foot you have kicked up on the counter, spreading your leg wider so Joel can see you playing with yourself. He’s still not looking. You need his attention. 

“Yeah, we can do somethin’, if that somethin’ means you’re payin’ for beers at the bar.” He said with a tired, but playful smirk. You’re growing so wet at the sight of him. Your fingers make a squelching noise as you slowly push two fingers inside your aching hole. This catches his attention. 

His head whips to you like a prowling lion hearing a twig snap. His eyes narrow on the target of the noise before they dart up to you. You know that look. 

Take your hand out of your fuckin’ panties. Don’t you fuckin’ touch yourself. 

You cock your head with an attitude. “Say it with your chest.” You pipe up, so loud that the voice on the other line chirps in. 

“Who was that?” You smirk at the attention Tommy’s already given you. 

“Hi, Tommy!” You shout, and now Joel’s really pissed. He comes up and clamps his hand over your mouth, glaring daggers into your big doe-eyed pupils. 

“Is that your girl, big brother?” 

Joel’s jaw clicks tighter, his breath coming out in hot, annoyed puffs through his aquiline nose. 

“You hidin’ her from me? Invite her to drinks tonight!” Tommy shoots out the invite before Joel can take it away. You slowly lick up the hand that’s holding your mouth hostage. Joel is used to this. He only adds more pressure to his hold on your mouth. 

He glares at you and juts his jaw around in annoyance, considering Tommy’s offer. “Yeah.. yeah, we’ll see,” Joel murmurs while you keep tonguing his hand. He gives your face a little slap, a stupid moan escaping your lips before he grips your cheeks again once more and covers your mouth. 

Don’t forget who’s in charge here, little bitch. 

You hum quietly against his hand and wrap your legs firmly around his hips. He stumbles forward half a step. You can feel his hardened length protruding from his gray sweats, your cores lightly grinding against one another as you purposely whimpered against his palm. 

Not long after, Joel ends the phone call with Tommy, and he begrudgingly releases his slobbery hand from your mouth and pushes back from the hold you attempted to lock him in. You huff as he leaves the kitchen, watching as he rakes his fingers up and down his beard and gently scratches at the skin. What was up with him? 

“We’re going out for drinks tonight?” You pester after you both have taken a shower for far too long, the steam fogging up his mirror and making Joel’s skin a light rosy pink. 

He lets out a short sarcastic chuckle. “I’m goin’ out tonight. You’re stayin’ here.” 

You frown as you look Joel over, his stern facial expression matching his tone. 

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, I’m going out tonight. With you. This is the third time I’ve tried to meet Tommy in person and-”

“And nothin’.” He intercepts, venom dripping from his words that makes your throat become scorching hot with anger. 

You have a hard time letting this go. Especially since whenever Tommy was in town, Joel magically came up with every excuse in the book to keep you from properly meeting his younger brother. Was Joel ashamed of you? He didn’t want Tommy to think that this was the type of girl Joel kept in his company. He didn’t want you to embarrass him. That’s always what it came down to. 

You brushed past him, your shoulder laying a heavy hit to his arm as you fled the bathroom with haste. You enter his bedroom and find your bag carrying your clothes for the weekend. You pulled on whatever you could find as hot rage made your skin tingle.

“Where you goin’, angel?” Joel tries to half-ass console you, stopping your movements, taking the keys you had just dug out from the depth of your bag, and holding them up so tall they were out of your reach even on your tippy toes. 

“Give them back, Joel.” You had a burning feeling in your chest, and Joel was fighting with fire. 

He just shakes his head, his eyes looking over you with a tight jawline. “Need you to relax. Last time you got this pissed at me, you keyed half of my fuckin’ truck.” He muttered, your eyes narrowing on his as you crossed your arms. 

“And I’ll key the other half if you don’t give me back my-”

“Keys?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow, wiggling the keychain with the cute dangly accessories on it and making you absurdly annoyed. You swallow a lump that’s growing in your throat. Joel sighs and cautiously brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek. You hate denying how comforting it is when his warmth courses through your body like this. 

“Why won’t you let me meet your brother?” It sounds more whimpery than you intended, big soft eyes looking into Joel’s hardened ones. “I mean, I know we’re not anything serious, but we’ve been together for a while, and it’s your birthday, and I know that you hate that it’s your birthday, but I love your birthday, and I sort of love you, and I want to meet the people you care the most about.” 

The room tenses as your eyes connect. Shit. That’s how you chose to tell him? That you sort of loved him? Fucking idiot. 

Joel pauses before he starts slowly shaking his head, and your chin dips defeatedly. You think he’s shaking his head because he doesn’t feel the same way, he doesn’t sort of love you like you sort of love him. How could he? Your emotions for one another were a mangled mess. One night, you were fighting like cats and dogs, and both of your eyes lit up during the heat of yet another fight. Then the next night, you were begging him not to stop fucking you, to never leave you, to never betray the trust you had in him that you two had built together over time. 

His thumb delicately courses up your cheekbone then gently across the arch of your chin. His hand moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in until you’re close enough he can set a delicate kiss on the crown of your head. This was what made it so confusing. Were you still fighting? Were you two making amends? 

“You’re not meetin’ Tommy. Not tonight. That’s final.” His words are whispered but somehow still piercingly cold, his voice monotone and flat as he forbade you from meeting his brother.  “Want you here when I come back so we can celebrate together. Just you and I.” 

A frown etches into your features. More like so he could have a warm body to fuck on his birthday. 

He brushes by you and starts his day like any other. He didn’t even say he sort of loved you back. 

---

Did he really think you’d give up without a fight? 

You managed to convince Joel that you were fine without meeting Tommy tonight, that maybe he just wanted some brotherly time together. He leaned into that shit-ass excuse like it was his last lifeline. He could care less about his familial bond, he just wanted you not to be fucking pissed off. But you were pissed off. And you looked hot pissed off. 

You especially looked hot and pissed off in the skin-tight dress you wore, accompanied by the designer clutch Joel purchased for your last birthday. 

You’d assume that the hardest part of your little plan was knowing which of the many bars Joel and Tommy could make their trek to. But Apple Air Tags came in a bundle of four, so you slipped one into Joel’s truck. What else were you going to do with the extra ones? Might as well put them to use. 

You took a car service to the downtown Austin brewpub, Blue Owl Brewing. Let’s just say you were a bit dressed up for the establishment. 

You spotted Joel sitting at a small table in the back, facing the entrance of the bar as you strolled in with a devilish smirk on your face. His large hand was nursing a tall glass of amber-colored beer, a wide and genuine smile on his lips as he jeered conversation back and forth with Tommy, whose back was to you. 

You slowly made your way through the dark oak bar, Joel’s eyes connecting with yours almost immediately. He looked like he could break you in half the way his eyes narrowed on you. But Joel was smart. He didn’t let much of his anger or annoyance seep through, because the damage was already done and you were already here. 

“Hi, Joel,” you innocently coo before resting your hand on his brother’s bicep. “You must be Tommy?” You ask with a smile so sweet it was probably giving Joel a toothache. He was taking a long, steady drink of his beer, the foam lightly frosting his mustache as he observes you with cautious eyes as you interacted with his brother. 

Tommy looked starstruck by your beauty. His eyes don’t hold back from lightly grazing over your short dress and the exposed skin that accompanies it. “Aren’t you a beauty,” he pauses and looks to his brother with a small smirk of disbelief that his brother could bag a catch as hot as you. “You must be Joel’s girl he keeps me from.” 

His comment makes you giggle, your hand cascading down his bicep to his forearm, your nails lightly adding pressure which makes Joel’s stature more domineering, even from across the table. 

Tommy was younger, with medium-length dark curly hair and a mustache that mirrored Joel’s. But he doesn’t have Joel’s beard, the facial hair you’ve grown to love. His mouth carries a dangerous little smirk, and it hasn’t left since you joined their table. He was handsome, it was a family trait the two brothers shared. 

“Please, sit down, beautiful.” 

You hum softly at the compliment, watching as Tommy grabs a nearby barstool from a table close by and sits you down at the end of the table, between both Tommy and Joel. 

“Joel, I thought you said your girl couldn’t make it out tonight?” Tommy inquires, waving down the waitress to come and get you a drink. 

“Oh, did he?” You ask curiously, crossing one leg over the other and lightly leaning over the table as your breasts nearly spill out of your dress. Your eye contact with Joel was on fire. He was torn between chewing you up and spitting you out right here in the middle of the bar, or dragging you away and ripping off this too-short dress of yours. 

You and Tommy were quickly buzzing with conversation. He was buying you cocktails and complimenting you every chance he could get. If you didn’t know any better, he was flirting with you openly in front of his older brother. Joel didn’t say much, a grunt here and there, a swift kick under the table to Tommy’s kneecap after he talked a little too much about the gorgeous curves of your body. 

“Just can’t believe you are datin’ my brother, didn’t know he could score someone so-” As Tommy attempts to find the words, his warm palm settles on your thigh, dangerously high too. He takes an inch or two of your dress with it, and your breath snags in your throat. You can’t deny the jaded way you feel about it, feeling a hot flash course through your body as you feel your head flush with heat. 

“Watch it.” Joel finally mutters coherently. Perfectly coherent. Like he needs Tommy to hear it crystal clear. No one touches you. 

Tommy seems to like the rise out of Joel just as much as you do. Which is perhaps why you’re leaning into it.

“You’re too kind, Tommy, really.” You take his hand off your thigh and maneuver it back into his lap. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the one Joel has to deal with, not the other way around.” You tease, and Tommy lets out a drunk laugh. 

“Trust me, gorgeous, if you were my girl, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. That was Joel’s first mistake tonight, leavin’ you at home.” 

Your eyes soften, and you glance over to Joel. He’s damn near snarling the way he’s gritting his teeth and staring daggers into Tommy. You had never seen him so possessive before. 

“That’s enough out of you,” Joel remarks as he heavily sets down the empty pint glass and shuffles his barstool back, letting out a screeching scrape. 

“We’re leavin’,” Joel tells you, making your jaw tick tighter. Where did he get off telling you what to do?  

“I don’t think I-”

“Now.” He says more seriously. The giddy feelings you shared with Tommy were now squashed under the weight of Joel’s boot. You decide to hop off the barstool and call it a night, for both of our sakes. You accomplished your mission, met Tommy and disobeyed Joel. So let’s leave while we’re ahead. 

You turn to Tommy, who is also stepping down from the barstool and putting cash on the table to cover the tab. “It was nice meetin’ you, sugar. Take care of my big brother, will ya?” He asks as he settles his hands warmly on your waist and pulls you in for a kiss on your cheek.  

Heat sets your body alight. Tommy was gentle, if not even a bit calculated with his movements. Why did all of a sudden you feel like the pawn in Tommy’s game rather than the other way around? 

“Goodnight, Tommy.” You whisper with a tight-lipped smile, taking Joel’s hand and letting him guide you out of the brewery. 

---

The ride home in the truck was quiet. Real fuckin’ quiet. You tried to be content just listening to the low volume of the radio or the soft rumbling of his truck. You went to switch the station off of country and more to something you liked, but Joel smacked the volume to mute, making you groan. You grew so bored that you started counting the random tar lines in the road, adding to the total with each one you passed over. You stopped counting after fifty, or so. 

“Joel-”

“Enough.” 

He doesn’t let you speak. It makes your blood boil. 

“If you just-”

“I said enough, god dammit. Don’t you think you’ve done enough tonight?” His words cut sharp, and you feel as small as you did this morning. This morning after you confessed that you sort of loved him. He’s breathing in heavy puffs, and he’s driving faster as he tries to get both of you back to the house. 

“Why are you going so fucking fast?” You finally ask. You’re already in deep shit, you don’t care about him telling you to shut up. He ignores you for a moment before you probe him again. “Joel?” You ask with an annoyed tone. His eyes finally meet yours in a quick glance. 

“Getting you home and out of that fucking dress.” He mutters, his large palm reaching across and cupping harshly at your upper thigh. A whiny gasp leaves your mouth as his fingers dig deliciously into your flesh. So that’s what’s got him driving so damn fast. 

He pries your leg open, and he takes one look at how beautiful you look. More importantly, he’s looking at your lacey panties. 

“Red. Perfect for you. Like the fuckin’ devil.” 

You smirk as you grip his wrist and guide his hand to your clothed mound, a weak sigh leaving his lips as he cups over the wet spot that was forming just for him. Joel didn’t have to put in much work for you to be on the edge for him. 

“I fucking hate you, Joel.” 

He puffs out another breath of air through his nose. His way of laughing lately. 

“Fuckin’ hate you more, baby.” 

He toys with your panties for the remaining minutes of the drive, your nails having sunk so hard into his arm that you’re drawing small bits of blood from the moon-shaped cuts. 

He damn near hauls you out of the truck once you’re parked. You leap into his arms as soon as the two of you walk past the threshold of his front door. 

You force him to walk blindly through the house. He’s easily holding you up by one arm as you tighten your legs around his waist, causing your dress to ride up from the tension. You kiss him in a clash of teeth and tongues. You’re both ferociously horny for one another. And he’s pissed. 

“Flirtin’ with my brother all fuckin’ night? You have fun with that?” He mutters against your mouth, slamming you up against the wall with a thud as your breath nearly knocks out of you from the force. He takes the opportunity of you planted there to grab the hem of your dress and push it up and off your body. His mouth latches to your exposed breasts, a throaty moan leaving your mouth as your small fists take him by the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Fuck,” you let out breathily, throwing your head back against the wall and humming lowly. 

“Answer me.” He ruts his hips up against your core, and you’re painfully aware of how naked he’s making you and how clothed he still is. 

“He’s actually really nice-” He suckles harder on your nipple, forcing a hiss out of your mouth. “Think I might trade in my older model for something younger.” Your tone is teasing, but the words are enough to make him detach from your nipple, a sinister look wavering his features cold.  

He sneers and tilts his head to the side and back before shaking his head slowly. “I don’t think so.” 

He rips you from the safety of the wall, your hands quickly scrabble to his shoulders to keep yourself upright while he leads you up the stairs to his bedroom. His heavy boots thud menacingly. You try to hide your smile in the crook of his neck, leaving angelic kisses on his neck and marking him with your lipstick, knowing how good Joel is about to make you feel. 

He tosses you onto the bed like a ragdoll, your bare body finds warmth in his sheets. You admire him from below as he pulls his shirt off by gripping the material at the back of his neck and hauling it off him in one swift motion. The sight alone makes your pussy ache and your insides churn. 

God, he was so handsome. He had this soft bulk to his body that expanded from the hardened planes of his chest and toned tummy to the light bulge in his biceps. His chest hair was a sprinkle of dark black stippled with light grey hairs that became sparse before trickling to a thicker patch, creating his happy trail.  

Holy fuck, he looked like he was going to devour you. 

Joel wasted little time with formalities. He had your legs parted, the rough denim of his jeans grinding against your soft skin. His tongue explored your mouth while both of his palms massaged the supple plushness of your breasts. He was pinching your nipples between his fingers, making you whine into his mouth for relief while they hardened in his hold. 

You slip your hands between your middles, fingertips gently trailing down to capture the button of his jeans and push down his zipper. You have to wiggle around a bit, as Joel is pinning you to the spot. You’re so desperate for him that it almost turns into a fight to get his jeans off. He tugs on your bottom lip, a light whimper leaving you upon tasting the metallic tang of blood fill your mouth. 

You smack Joel’s arm until he releases you, huffing at him. 

“Asshole.” You mutter.

He sneers at you as he places a delicate kiss to your lips in apology. “That’s what cunts get.”  He mutters under his breath. The term makes you flinch, your hand coming up to give him a good smack across the face, but he captures your wrist and pins it back to the bed. You both eagerly consume one another in a desperate kiss. You think you see him smiling as he tastes the light scrape of blood he’s caused. 

Joel moves his weight to his forearms and aids you in the ongoing war between you and his pesky jeans. With his weight off you, you easily push down his jeans and his black boxers, your feet pushing down the last of the material around his ankles. He sits back on his haunches, heavy hands gripping the sides of your panties as he pulls them down your legs, leaving you bare with him. 

You immediately slip out of the hold he has on your wrist and put your hand between your legs. Your fingers move eagerly between your glistening folds and slick them up with arousal. He smacks your hand away and pins your wrist to the bed once more. So fucking disobedient. 

Once he settles between you, a soft gasp escapes your lips once you feel his thick shaft landing heavily against your sex. He was thick and ready for the taking, his tip was red with anger and need. 

“You were a real fuckin’ handful tonight.” He mutters, letting his tip slide up and down your glistening folds. You were not in the mood for teasing. 

You grit your teeth and glare up at him. “I think Tommy agreed.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He growls, your chest rising and falling quickly. He takes notice as your body tingles with excitement. 

“Such a pain in my goddamn ass sometimes, more trouble than your worth.”

“Why don’t you toss me to Tommy then, huh? That way I can see which Miller brother fucks me better.” You sneer, a sloppy smirk crossing your features. It’s harshly stripped from you as Joel takes your face and squishes your cheeks with the grip of his hand. Your eyes clench closed at the slight pain, feeling him angle your head to face him. He’s power-hungry. 

“Open those eyes, pretty girl.” His voice is rocky and lust-filled, dangerous like gasoline. It takes a moment, but you flutter them open. You didn’t realize that you were holding onto Joel’s puffed-up biceps, hard as a rock under your hold. 

He slowly scans you, up and down, weighing his options of how to handle you. The problem that you were. His little brat. “You wanna cum tonight?”

Your ultimate weakness. A sheepish whimper leaves your squished lips, trying to blink back the slight tears that are forming from his manhandling. Mascara stings your eyes, but you hold his eye contact, because he asked you to, because it’s Joel, and you’d do anything for him at the end of the day. 

You manage an “Mhm, please.” Joel’s eyes soften as he comes back to you and your warmth. 

He doesn’t say anything, just angles his hips just right since you two fit perfectly together and thrusts inward. The breath in your lungs is punched out, head grinding back into the bed as your chin angles to the ceiling.  You hiss at the initial discomfort that his thick cock causes. He’s fucked you a million times, but there’s nothing better than the first thrust where you’re still adjusting to his size, his girth, his length, his everything. 

The clamp his hand has on your cheeks eventually releases, shifting the weight back to his forearms as his head settles above yours. He places another gentle kiss on your lightly swollen bottom lip. His loving reassurance warms your body. He’s starting steady, honorably letting your arousal take the lead in getting you both lubed up. He feels like heaven coursing through your tight hole, making himself the perfect fit for you. 

You wrap your arms around his neck a little too tight, bringing him down into you as he breathily laughs against your ear. 

"Y'know, it's kinda hard to be rough with ya when you're bein' so sweet."

Your chest heaves with his words, a sudden and impactful sense of vulnerability passing through you. It makes you nervous. It makes your skin swelter with warmth and makes a bead of sweat form at your temple. You and Joel don’t have this type of warmth in your relationship. Warm in the sense of boiling, too hot, too much, screaming and shouting and fighting and kissing. Not this. Not the gentle thrusts lightly rocking into you, letting you adjust to him, pulling him in for a gentle embrace as you capture him in a needy hug. 

You’re not the I love you type, yet you said it to him this morning. Sort of. You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly shake your head. 

You remind yourself that he didn’t say it back this morning. He wasn’t saying it now. Was he just using you? No.. no, it wasn’t that. But he wasn’t going to let you meet his family. He wasn’t going to say he loved you. He wasn’t going to marry you if that’s even what you wanted right now. It wasn’t. But you couldn’t deny you thought about your future with Joel. Even with all the fighting, the anger, the jealousy, it was all out of love. But maybe that love was one-sided. 

The arms you had draped around his neck turned into sinking your nails into the base of his back. You slowly began scraping them upwards and forming long, raised red lines in their path. Joel grunts and hisses at the burn he’s feeling, broad shoulders tightening and his hips snapping into you more ferociously now. 

Your lower lip trembled with anger, but you didn’t let him see as you pushed his head down to your breasts. He took the hint with a broken moan as he suckled a bruise on your collarbone. 

The pain of his thrusts turned into numbing pleasure, his tip kissing your cervix with each and every heavy snap of his thrusts. 

“Fuck yeah, Joel,” you moan. You stroking his ego only makes his movements more methodical, one of his hands pushing your leg down onto the bed rather than snaking around his waist and exposing you to a new angle that left you searching for air. Joel returns his forehead to rest over yours, both of your sweat glistening. You stare into his eyes, and all you feel is anger and regret for saying you loved him. He was fucking you so good too, you both had never gone as slow as you had at the start. It was twisting the coil inside of you so smoothly, that your brain was getting foggy. 

You did a lot of stupid things tonight. Wearing your shortest dress, stalking Joel to his hangout with Tommy, flirting with his brother for the majority of the night. But now, you were ready to do the stupidest thing yet. 

You moan into his ear, revenge and regret swirling inside of you like an insidious tornado. Your eyes flutter close in pleasure as you feel your orgasm begin to approach. “Fuck me, Tommy.”

It hits Joel like a ton of bricks. All his movements pause. He pulls away just half an inch and stares down at you. A cold, downright mean look crosses his face once you’ve popped your eyes open to take a look at him. The room suffocates you in silence. 

“What did you say?” His voice is slow, slick with a cursed concoction of lust and fury. 

Too far. Way too fucking far. 

You pause as you try to recollect yourself, having just been nearly blinded by your approaching orgasm. “I- I said Joel,” Now you were just trying to convince yourself that you didn’t accidentally or not accidentally just moaned his brother's name in bed. “I-”

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.” He mutters, chest puffed up and muscles straining with veins like thick rivers coasting up his arms. 

He starts slow. His hand shifts to fasten around your throat, and with each word that leaves him, his grip tightens. “Tell me… what you said.” He speaks through gritted teeth, eliciting a whimper from you as he snarls. 

You swallow a lump in your throat, cold goosebumps flooding over your previously scorching hot skin. You were starting to feel the neglect from his lack of thrusts, whining softly as you tried to grind your hips up into his. 

His large palm slams into your hip with force and pins you to the bed, letting out a whine of annoyance. 

“You want Tommy fuckin’ you instead? Huh?” His jaw is tight and only clicking tighter as he stares daggers into you. Fuck, you were only flooding him with more of your arousal. You purposely flexed your tight walls around the swell of his cock. 

“N-No, Joel -- fuck -- want you.” You whimper out as your hands soften on his shoulders, and you gently cup his face. He shakes his head loose of your hold, annoyance and anger still shooting up his spine. 

“I don’t think you do, pretty girl, think you want someone else. Tommy.” His hips were thrusting again, harsh snaps that physically rocked your body up the bed with force that made your jaw drop. Fuck he felt so damn good. The lack of air was making your head swirl. 

You took in a sharp breath as he manhandles your face once more, forcing you to look at him. “Dirty fuckin’ slut, you want both of us, don’t you?” Well, you can’t deny the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. He licks his lips before he spits on your face, lathering you in his saliva as you gasp in shock. 

“J-Joel,” your words can’t come out smooth with how roughly he’s fucking you. His hips are slamming your thighs, and the bedframe is smacking the wall with all his might. “Fuck-ing- shit,” you throw your head back now up into his pillows and try to grip onto the sheets to maintain your position. That coil that was smoothly coursing you towards a gentle orgasm was long gone, as was Joel’s right mind. Now the coil was tightening and nearly breaking, your mind going blank and seeing stars. 

“Say my name,” Joel grunts, his hand coming up and smothering the saliva he spat on your face. It runs black with your mascara tears and messy red lipstick before he brings his hand back to your throat. 

You breathe heavily as your mind tries to connect syllables and make a coherent word. “I- I..” You can’t focus, and Joel punishes you for it. He spits on you again, hot and warm on your face, and all you can picture is if it was his cum showering you instead. “Fuck!” You shout at him. He takes the opportunity of your mouth open to speak, forcing two fingers inside. 

“Suck’em, pretty little bitch,” Joel mutters, watching you with eyes from hell. 

You whimper and suckle around his fingers, trying not to choke on them, focusing all your energy on trying not to get in more trouble. You line your tongue up and down both digits, tasting him, tasting Joel. He pulls his fingers from you with force and leaves your own saliva dribbling out of your messy mouth and down your chin. 

He puts his slimy fingers to use and starts slowly circling your clit. Your eyes light up, wide, and you grip onto his bicep for desperation. “P-Please, too much, Joel,” you whimper, feeling the coil close to snapping as he starts doing precise figure-eights on your swollen nub. It was all too much. 

“Say my name,” Joel says on repeat, your glassy eyes only being able to focus on him, just like he wanted. 

He starts marking you with his mouth, ferocious teeth nipping at the sensitive skin along your breasts and collarbones, so harshly that they burn once he’s done, and covering you in red and purple splotches. 

Joel’s grunting above you, withholding his own orgasm as another form of torturing you. “Say my name, god dammit, tell me who owns this fucking pussy.” He spits on you, mean and hot, and he’s all you can see, all you can think. 

Say my name. Say my name. God dammit, say my fucking name. 

“J-Joel!” You cry out his name and clench your eyes closed, but he doesn’t slow his thrusts or his fingers. “Fu-Fuck me, Joel, keep fucking me good, Joel, Joel, Joel- fuck!” you swallow down the lump in your throat as you see his goading smirk, his hips slamming you with all he’s got. 

“Come on baby, want Tommy t’hear you, want the whole damn neighborhood t’hear you-- shit,” he mutters, eyes clenching closed as your walls flutter around him in a nearing orgasm. 

“Say my name!” He shouts, and you cry out in pleasure. 

He was like God, your God. 

“Joel!” You cry out. The coil snaps, and the curtain falls down. Your back arches, and you throw your hips into Joel’s, fisting the sheets and dipping your eyes closed again as you let out a moan that shakes the entire house. Joel’s not long behind you, he paints your walls white in adoration, load after load marking your walls as his own, no one else's. 

A few minutes pass and he’s still buried inside of you. You look psychotic, fucked dumb and raw. “I’m yours, Joel.” You say barely above a whisper, desperate eyes searching his own for warmth. 

You’re twitching below him, overly exerted and tired. You’re motionless, half-dead under the man who resurrected you. He’s panting heavily from doing all the work per usual. His mouth is agape, trying to catch his breath as your numb limbs lie in place while he pulls out of you. He’s dripping with your arousal-cum mixture. Oh, but he’s not done. He kneels on the bed and smacks his hand against your pussy before cupping it. 

It makes your eyes widen, and you let out an overstimulated cry at the feeling. You quickly shake your head, grip his wrist, and meet his eyes with a pleading expression. “N-No Joel, can’t -- fuck -- can’t do another one right away, give me a sec baby-” 

“Do you know why I didn’t want Tommy to meet you?” His words ram your numb brain senseless. 

You whimper as he’s already starting slow circles on your clit, goosebumps forming once more. You muster up a shake of your head. 

No. No, I don’t know why you won’t let me meet your fucking brother, the question has been gnawing at me all damn day, though. 

“When we were younger, Tommy had a bad streak of sneakin’ off with my girlfriends.” He did? You had no idea. Joel’s voice is deviously quiet during his story-telling, wrecked with residual anger and desire for you. 

His thumb takes over massaging your clit, feeling both his index and middle finger slowly curl their way into your entrance. Your head nudges back against the pillows again, releasing a string of whimpers as he works you up again. He’s pushing his cum back inside of you while his fingers squelch.

“He was flirtin’ with ‘em, harmless at first, ‘til he decided he wanted ‘em for himself.” Your jaw tightens as he moves his thumb faster on your clit, angry that you let Tommy manipulate you into getting a rise out of Joel, just like he used to. He was using you as a pawn tonight. 

“Got into so many damn fights over it. S’why my nose is a lil’ crooked. Tommy broke it with a punch, fightin’ about some girl I was seein’ in my twenties.” You frowned. Stop talking about your other girlfriends, Joel.  

A quiet whimper left your lips as your pointer finger came up to brush along the light curve of his nose that you loved so much. 

“Don’t feel bad for me, angel. I broke his goddamn arm for fuckin’ me over like that.” He had a dangerous smirk on his lips, one that you liked, one that made your heart race as he circled your clit even faster and started massaging your walls with his thick fingers. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you whispered, the heated coil in your tummy churning again out of the protectiveness and jealousy he felt for you today. 

“He’s never met any of my girls since, so when I saw you walk into that bar..” he trailed off and started shaking his head. Your clit pulsed anxiously under the pad of his thumb, biting down harshly on your bruised and bloody lip. “Would never let him take you away from me. Never.” Your heart gushes for him. 

“I’d never leave you, Joel,” you lightly whimpered, your body twitching and writhing under him. He shook his head and gently shushed you, cupping your cheek with his free hand. Your glassy eyes watched him in adoration, seeing crooked stars in your vision as you felt another orgasm heatedly approaching. 

“Should’a told ya sooner. And you should’a stayed home. Listened to me for once,” He told you in a warning tone. You swallow the lump in your throat and gently nod, your thighs shaking against his legs that pinned yours wide open. 

“S’why when I saw ya in the bar, knew I had t’take you home and make you mine, devil woman.” He muttered with a small smirk. The nickname made a desperate smile trickle on your lips. 

“Yeah?” You said in a sheepish whimper, your walls fluttering around his fingers that were gently exploring your insides, leaving you so close to cumming again. It was too fast, and too damn hot in the room, but Joel was making you his, and that’s all you were going to focus on. 

“So what d’you say?” He asks, raising a curious eyebrow. 

“‘M sorry.” You muster up. “I-I’m sorry, Joel,” He’s got you panting for dear life as your thighs twitch while you near closer and closer to the edge. 

He slowly shakes his head. “And what else, pretty girl?” 

You cock your head and furrow your brows at him, unsure of what he wants you to say next. 

“Say my name, tell me you love me again.” His fingers abandon your entrance and solely focus on pleasuring your clit, going so fast, too fast. His head comes down by yours, resting his forehead against your temple as your eyes force themselves closed.  

“Fuck, Joel,” you whimper. 

“Look at me, baby.” He whispers to you, placing light kisses by the corner of your eye to bring attention to him. 

Your long lashes flutter on your cheeks before your fucked out face turns to Joel. “I love you, I love you, Joel, I love y-you- fuck,” you moan out loudly, throwing your head back and grinding your hips up into his hand. You do love him, the sick bastard that he was. 

Your second release is only minutes from your last; it sparks you like a firework, and you feel your bones tingle. This man was not one to contend with. But you did anyway because you loved him. 

You come down from being overstimulated. He plays this mean game where he grazes his fingers as light as a feather on different parts of your body, watching as your muscles and body twitch from being short-circuited. 

“Fuck you.” You murmur. 

His feet find the floor, his cock still hanging by his thighs, drenched in residual slick. He disappears into the bathroom, and you hear the faucet run. It rings in your ears, still trying to center yourself after being fucked to oblivion tonight. 

You didn’t realize your eyes had fallen close until you heard his feet padding towards you as he approached with a warm washcloth. You hum softly gently wipes your face from his spit and your mucky mascara before he rotates the washcloth and wipes at the inside of your thighs. You’re still a little sensitive, you can’t help but let your face twinge. 

He’s careful as he makes sure you’re clean, catching any residual spill. He tosses the washcloth into the laundry basket before he goes searching in your bag for something you can wear. 

“Joel?”

He pauses his movements. “Already know what you’re gonna say.” You instantly smile and observe him. He was so handsome. 

He stops looking through your bag for clothes and moves to his closet. He takes his time choosing what he wants you to wear, which makes you giggle a little bit from bed. You’re motionless, with no energy to move or even roll over. Barely enough to speak. 

He settles on a Metallica band t-shirt, at least twenty years old, with the cotton perfectly soft and worn in. He moves to his dresser and fishes out a clean pair of boxers. They were the most comfy to wear, you had to admit. Panties were to show off your ass before sex. Boxers were for after all that was finished. 

“You okay?” he whispers, to which you slowly nod. He’s always been so good with aftercare, even after a full day of arguing followed by a full night of fucking. 

The boxers are soft as they coast up your legs, and he settles them on your hips. The band reads Calvin Klein. You muster up enough strength to sit up on your elbows, and he helps you put the baggy shirt on. It messes up your hair, and he tries to smooth it over, which makes you bubble up a laugh. “It’ll just get all messed up when we sleep, but thanks,” you whisper before falling back into his pillows once again. 

Joel smirks widely before he lays down tiredly beside you on his front, like a big giant collapsing with a large huff. Your hand travels gently up his back, seeing the raised and jagged lines your nails had caused, your anger had caused. His jaw twitches, but he doesn’t let you know he’s feeling pain. 

“Joel?” You whisper and work up the energy to shimmy closer to him, your foreheads gently resting together. 

“Hm?” He murmurs. 

You feel shy all of a sudden, still vulnerable. “Happy birthday, Joel. I love you.” 

He slowly smiles, a sense of pride flooding his body as he pulls you in closer to him by your hip. He gently glides his thumb across your swollen bottom lip and kisses you lightly. “I love you, too. No matter how much of a brat you are.”

You slowly grin and close your eyes as your heads rest beside one another. 

“Oh my god.” You mutter to yourself. Joel pulls his head away to look down at you. 

“What is it, angel?”

You groan lightly and hide your face in your hands. “The cake! I left it out all day, it’s probably dry as fuck now!”

Joel lets out a puff of laughter, stroking your sweat-soaked hair away from your face. “S’okay, wasn’t gonna have any, anyway.” 

“Yes, you were.” You huff, your finger gently gliding down his nose once more before you gently kiss the tip in adoration. 

He hums softly at your decent behavior. “Good girl.” 

---

masterlist

A reminder that I no longer use taglists!! to keep up with my writing, follow @hellishfics and turn on notifications to keep updated!

[yellowbunnydreams]

Only Donors Left Alive [Vampire! Dave Miller x F! Reader] (Part 1)

~By popular demand, like weirdly popular for a cameo character in another fic, we're writing Vampire Dave today! Wooo! Also a big shout out to @ruh--roh-raggy and @springlockedfool for being feral over this man with me and springlockedfool for making some awesome art of the wet spaghetto based on our conversations/Do You Need Some Vitamin D?.~

Taglist: @ruh--roh-raggy @springlockedfool

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI- Female Reader, legal age gap, older man/younger woman, graphic acts of violence, biting, knife-play, blood, blood-drinking/licking, unbalanced power dynamic, anaemia, possessive behaviour, partial nudity

Hurricane was a small town with a nothing of particular note going on in it. Or at least, that was what you had been told by the realtor when you'd been looking for somewhere quiet to move to after you'd decided to move out of your parent's house. They seemed content to let you move to a small apartment in somewhere suburban, it had apparently been much more of a thriving town in the eighties, but you preferred the quiet.

As you'd dragged your suitcase from the cab in front of the apartment complex on the edge of town however, you'd already begun to notice a few things that weren't quite right with Hurricane. Although, you easily brushed it off as nerves with moving to somewhere unfamiliar and new.

The apartment complex itself was a drab, dusty grey concrete building that looked like it hadn't been externally renovated since it was built some time in the peak of Hurricane's history and as you let yourself inside the foyer, you noticed the lights had a sickly glow to them. Flickering hallogen lamps that gave you a subtle creepy feeling, like you were walking into somewhere you weren't meant to be.

The place was crap, the rent was cheap, but you were sure you could make it work out for yourself. At least, when all your things arrived over the next few days.

Sighing to yourself, you looked at the notice in your hand and shoved it roughly into the pocket of your denim jacket. Noticing a little elevator nestled into the back of the lobby, you went to try the button, waiting for the doors to open up. Hearing the grinding of metal against metal, and the squeal of the service brakes as the doors to the elevator shaft creaked open, the floor itself an inch or so above the level it should be, you decided it was in your best long-term interests to take the stairs.

Dragging the suitcase up wasn't easy, especially when you realised that you were on the top floor. But you had paid extra on the deposit for a larger apartment, and with four units of each floor and only two on the top floor, you weren't going to complain too much.

The hum of the lights as your breath sounded loud in your ears was somewhat comforting. Looking between the two doors, fishing the paper out of your pocket, you confirmed the number and shuffled over to your new door, wrapping your fingers around the metalic key in your pocket and unlocking the door.

Despite the dingy exterior of the building, the apartment inside was quite clean and somewhat modern. Spacious, painted a soft creamish beige on the walls, the floors were shockingly even laid down with a fresh layer of linoleum. The cupboards were painted a faint pastel bluish-grey, and the vinyl counters were clearly freshly laid, mimicking a black granite. The whole apartment smelt faintly like fresh paint and bleach.

"Well...this is home, I guess." You muttered to nobody. Leaving your suitcase by the door, you decided to explore the space.

The rest of the apartment was just as spacey. A slight hallway, a combined kitchen and lounge, you were quite surprised by the spacious bathroom too, the dark tiling along the walls contrasting to the white floors and a seemingly generous shower. And finally, the bedroom, it was perhaps a little smaller than you originally anticipated, but it was still large enough for you to fit a double bed inside and it came with a built in wardrobe along one wall. This place could easily be home, once the smell of heavy duty cleaning products aired out and you made sure to check the lease on how you could decorate.

Looking outside, you realised how late it was getting and decided to see if you could find somewhere that would deliver food to you. Scrolling through your phone and selecting a pizza place that sounded good, you began to unpack what little belongings you had managed to fit inside your suitcase, wanting to keep yourself busy.

After-all, you were sure you would have time to look around the sleepy little town in the morning.

The next few days were uneventful, much to your boredom and frustration.

All your boxes had arrived, you'd set up furniture, made sure appliances were up and connected. But you had begun to realise there were a few things that were not quite right with Hurricane when you had ventured out into town to grab supplies and things.

Firstly, there were the telephone poles, covered in staples like they were once decorated with posters of some kind, but the few you saw seemed to be missing pets and the occasional human face staring back at you. It made you sad, but when you asked the cashiers about it at the local store, they simply stared at you with wide eyes like they were surprised you had noticed. People didn't talk to each other in the same way as they had back home either. Back there, you went into a store and you could hear something like ten different conversations, but you had only heard whispered conversations amongst small groups that seemed tense when you passed by.

But you shrugged it off, you'd moved states, moved towns, brushing it off as simply strange, you tried to ignore the gut feeling you had that there was something else lurking beneath the surface of it all.

Entering your apartment building, you nearly tripped over a package sat in the lobby. Glancing over it, you realised that the box was addressed to the unit besides yours. Despite being there for a few days, it had seemed strange to you that you hadn't noticed anybody else living in the building, but you assumed that you would all meet at some point.

Balancing your groceries on top, you grunted as you picked up the box. Surprised by it's weight as you glanced at the elevator before sighing and lugging it up the stairs, knowing your legs were going to look great after how many times you'd taken the stairs recently. Although you had to admit that you really hoped your landlord fixed the elevator soon and allowed you to have a day off from going up and down to the top floor each and every time.

The usually twenty minute climb took about forty with the additional box and groceries.

When you reached the top step, you were glad to put the box down. Breathing hard and sweat beading against your brow in the Utah heat, heart pounding in your chest and ears as you let out a frustrated sigh. Closing your eyes for just a moment to gather yourself.

"Well aren't you a pretty sight?" The voice behind you suddenly made you gasp and whip around, heart beating even faster as you were met at first with a white-ish shirt that seemed a little baggy for whoever was wearing it.

Stepping back involuntarily, you noticed a tall, lanky man standing a little too close to you for your comfort. Having to look up slightly, you watched a crooked smile creep across his gaunt face, dark eyes darting about in a way that made you wonder if perhaps he was as flustered as you. Glancing over him as a whole, he appeared to be wearing some kind of unbranded security uniform, white with black epaulettes and black slacks. Not hiding his wiry figure, he looked greyish and like a particularly strong breeze might take him out upon initial inspection.

"Sorry?" The word tumbled from you quickly, and his gaze finally settled on yours for long enough to realise that he had blueish eyes, although they looked darker thanks to the heavy dark circles beneath them giving them a more sallow appearance.

"Oh you don't need to apologise, sugar, it's not often I get visitors all the way up here. And certainly fewer that look as....delectable...as you." The crooked grin spread, revealing crooked teeth, those blue eyes focused on you intently still as he looked down at you, you could feel your cheeks heating up under his intensity. But something about that same intensity made your skin crawl uncomfortably.

"I'm not a visitor, I live on this floor. That means you must be my neighbour, right?"

The man blinked and you felt a sense of relief washing over you as his smile faltered for a moment before that lopsided, cock-sure grin crept back onto his sharp face. Rubbing his hand along his black slacks before offering it to you, making you worry what he'd been touching before you tentatively shook it with a polite smile, caught off guard as his thin, dexterous fingers squeezed and you felt the strength behind his boney appearance. His skin felt cool to the touch and a little clammy, and you thought that maybe he'd just wiped down his sweaty hands to make it a little more pleasant for you.

"So you're my new little tenant. My my, aren't I a lucky guy."

"Come again?"

"Oh I will, pet, don't you worry. Dave Miller, landlord and your neighbour." He introduced himself as he kept hold of your hand for just a moment after you loosened your grip, making you laugh nervously. Bringing your hands back to your sides as you tried not to let your shocked expression show. "How are you enjoying the unit? I've had to perform some renovations after the last tenant....left some damage."

The way Dave spoke was a little odd, and you heard something of a British accent in that raspy, gravelly voice. People could be socially awkward, you reasoned with yourself, and Dave didn't look like the kind of man who easily socialised as his eyes once again were darting about in a way that made you subconsciously think of a wild animal. His dark hair looked slightly greasy, tousled like he's simply run his fingers through it when he woke up.

"The apartment is great! I love how spacious it is." Glad to change the topic as you suddenly remembered your groceries, picking them off of the top of the box and gesturing towards the large package with your free hand. "Oh, and um, I found this in the lobby? I hope it's yours, it was a pain lugging it up here, but at least I got my cardio in!"

"Hmmm? Oh yes, thank you sugar. And don't worry, I know you did, I could hear you all the way downstairs." Continuing to give that wide, crooked smile that felt uncomfortable as you swore his eyes darted to your neck and trailed up before focusing on you once again.

Bending over, Dave picked up the package easily, making you raise an eyebrow as you were still thinking about how rude his comment seemed, were you really that out of shape carrying up the box that he could hear you?

"I should...go put these groceries away,"

"Of course, I should put mine away too. It's been a pleasure meeting you," your name dripped from his tongue in a way that made your heart race and cringe at the same time. Like he was almost tasting it, a thought that made you shudder as you headed for your door. Turning your head over your shoulder to see if he was still there and found him staring after you, seeming to watch you with that crooked smile that didn't quite reach his darting eyes.

You decided you didn't know what to think of your landlord as you closed the door behind you and shut him out.

You rarely saw Dave after your initial introduction, at least for the first week or so. Occasionally you'd spot him in the evenings wearing that white uniform shirt that you were sure he'd stained permanently grey, but whenever he saw you, that lazy smile creeped onto him and you couldn't help but smile back. Often afterwards, you were left confused and disoriented by the action, like something had over ridden your senses to force the action. Dave made you feel slightly uneasy, at the very core of each interaction.

As did the growing number of missing posters in Hurricane.

You'd been in the supermarket when you heard your name called, one of the locals that you recognised as working in one of the mechanic's shops was stood by the register with a frown on his bearded face. The elderly cashier looking concerned as you pointed to yourself before moving over cautiously, wondering if you broke some small town ettiquette.

"You're new to town, right?" He asked gruffly, making you shrug and smile a little nervously at the sudden question.

"Yeah, moved in about a week or so ago now, sir."

"You live in that apartment complex on the edge of town, don't ya?"

"Yes?"

"Be careful, there's been...things...happening..." He gesticulated vaguely and the older cashier scoffed, blinking behind her thick glasses at you as she smacked on on his shoulder, tutting disapprovingly.

"Don't mind him lovely, he don't know how to talk to people. What he means to say is that there have been a few people going missing in Hurricane recently, and all the locals are nervous. Especially since they're mostly out of towners and...well...people that live on the fringes of our social circles." She explained, making you think back to your walk home, how you had noticed a few more posters up than when you first arrived. "Do you need a ride home? Jason here can give you a ride, I worry about a young lady walking home this late if there's been all this strangeness about."

You smiled and thanked her, assuring her and who you found out to be her son that you would be fine. You were always fine. If anything, you refused to mention how it felt like the last few nights you had been followed by somebody. However, whenever you turned around or glanced into a reflective surface as you walked past, you never saw anybody. Putting it down to your paranoia about the missing people. Soon, it was time to walk home again however, and you said your goodbyes.

The streets were beginning to turn dark as you walked through the cooler evening temperatures. Stopping to look at one of the telephone poles that had many posters stapled to it, finding a total of five people and four pets that had gone missing over the short time you'd lived in Hurricane.

If anybody had been more superstitious, they might have blamed you for it all.

As you were lost in thought however, you heard the screech of barely working brakes and turned to look at the noise naturally. Spotting a Toyota Corolla pulling up, beat up silver, the tyres looked like they were on the verge of needing replacing, and as the window rolled down, it was both to your dread and delight that you realised it was Dave behind the wheel. An uncustomary scowl on his face even as he looked at you.

"The fuck are you doing out here?" His rasp sent a shiver down your spine, frowning, you crossed your arms across your chest and raised an eyebrow.

"Good evening to you too Dave. I tried knocking on your door this morning to let you know that another package had arrived for you." Watching his scowl lessen as he ran his slender hand over his angular face. Sucking his crooked teeth slightly.

"I don't do mornings, sugar, no matter how tempting the little treat at my door is." You felt your cheeks flushing as you felt that gut twist once more despite the flutter that the compliment caused in your chest. "You shouldn't be out here all alone."

"So people have said."

"Let me give you a ride."

"Absolutely not."

"Alright, let me give you a ride back, please, sugar. This ain't even about rent, it's the principle of the thing." Dave sighed, looking at you with a scowl until you sighed and nodded your head. Walking around to his passenger side and barely had yourself buckled in before he pulled a u-turn in the middle of the road.

"Jesus fucking Christ."

"Nope, Dave Miller. I'd rather hear you screaming that." The comment crawled under your skin and made you cringe, watching that sleazy smile come back. There was the Dave you'd seen and knew. Unsure on how to respond as he drove through the darkened streets, hurtling towards your complex with a practised precision.

"Are you heading to work?" Attempting to change the subject, he nodded as his face contorted into a mask of concentration, his eyes darting wildly, although they seemed to focus a little too intently on you whenever you spoke to him directly.

"Yeah, the night-shift is always fun as long as you're not afraid of what goes bump in it." His way of speaking still resonated to you as a bit odd, but despite it being something like the second time you'd spoken to your landlord, you couldn't help but think that it was simply him.

Sooner than you expected, you were outside your building. Unclipping your seatbelt quickly, only for Dave's hand to reach out and hold onto your wrist. Your eyes widening as you turned to look at him, watching that somewhat feral smile with sharp, slightly disarrayed teeth lazily spread as he gazed up at you, bending in his seat and bringing your hand up to his cold, thin lips. Making you cringe physically and mentally, seemingly to his amusement as he began to chuckle. Swearing his fingers were positioned like he was taking your pulse before he let you go, licking his lips slightly and humming in thought.

"Have a goodnight, sugar. Make sure to lock your door tight, you wouldn't want....something...unsavoury...getting in, would you?" Phrasing it like a question, but your heart pounded as you weakly nodded and felt your body shaking slightly, climbing out of Dave's car and heading into your building as quickly as you could. Feeling his eyes burning into your back before you made it into the lobby and peered out, watching his silver car slowly pulling out of the parking lot once again.

No wonder the rent was so cheap. You weren't sure how anybody could stand being neighbours with Dave for extended periods of time.

[brehaaorgana]

OH UPDATE BTW my final answer was I am going with the cheapest 1930's apartment building option and I thiiiink (pretty sure??) they're giving me the unit I toured specifically and it has the stinkin cute tile in the half-dining room:

Now. The floor of the kitchen/half dining area? Hideous. I'm making a promise to myself now to buy some kind of peel and stick to go over that grey vinyl.

Everywhere else had ok vinyl faux wood I think?

So whatever.

Point being, I need to fix the sad grey linoleum in the kitchen to elevate its cuteness. Then maybe find a way to change up that flush mount light. It's not the worst boob light! But surely I can improve it.

[floorings101]

[landverbunny]

1950s Linoleum, hand pieced from period designs (above: blue, green and yellow) Unlike a lot of 70's and 80's flooring, this stuff was pieced together smoothly, though usually people just pieced together simple squares or rectangles, however, if you were going for something a bit nicer, these were some suggested patterns. You could even get them pre-cut.

Pink and Grey Lino theme

Green and Beige theme

and a Red theme In the 50's you could get these in classic linoleum, but some tiles could also be found in vinyl and even asbestos You can find these for download here: Blue, Green and Yellow Pink and Grey Deep Green and Beige Red

[stuckasmain]

“How could anyone cover up this hardwood/tile?!” I want you to take a wild guess. Old houses are cold as shit. It’d trap heat/make your feet not freeze it’s not rocket science

That being said am happy to see og floors preserved and re exposed

“Why would anyone tear this out for Grey vinyl” now that is the question you should be asking and future generations will be asking.

I have seen atrocities…