#i don't care that they have a year age gap in the book

[adalineozie]

Me after reading Thrillkiller and seeing another version of Dick Grayson die and Barbara and Bruce have a romantic relationship

[bunkernine]

society if hoo had them at uni age and the lost trio went to chb and chiron is like "how tf are ANY of u alive and unclaimed". wilderness was just community college.

[masochistartt]

Can you tell us your favorite age gap books

i am not even going to lie to you anon, the football brainrot has kept me from reading anything for longer than i'd like to admit, and i have a generally bad memory in the first place so it's kind of tough for me to recall things i have read.

the first one that came to mind was something to talk about by meryl wilsner, it's a sapphic book about a screenwriter who wrote one of the biggest shows on tv (i think again sorry shit memory i'm pretty sure she just got a massive job to write a movie when the book starts) and her personal assistant. who i think. i think is younger than she is.

parable of the sower has a pretty significant age gap relationship in it but that's not what you're there for if you're reading that book tbh - it's a great sci fi that i'd def rec, but it's not like. it's not like you're going to read a dystopian book about a girl who starts a new religion to try to survive a waterless hellscape just for the age gap relationship. unless you are. if you are good for you

i also want to recommend amberlough by lara elena donnelly. i can't remember if the mc and his love interest have an age gap or if they're both old men but whatever they've got going on is fucked up (complimentary)

on the same page of i don't remember if there's an age gap but whatever the mc and the love interest have going on is wild (complimentary), a memory called empire by arkady martine. this is also sci-fi (so not primarily focused on the romance, there's more shit going on), but there's also a power dynamic (complimentary) in this one.

that's all i can think of right now ?? i might be able to come up with more given time and less brainrot tbh but. i hope those are good enough recs ?? i hope ?? enjoy ??

[ozzgin]

Yandere! CEO Headcanons

Just a little idea I had some time ago of a rather bizarre dynamic: a CEO with no time to spare, introduced to a young student his wife befriended. Perhaps he does have a moment, after all. (I need to dump my preference for a cultured older man somewhere)

Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, NSFW, dating the wife is optional

[Original works masterlist]

Yandere! CEO who is in his mid 40s and terribly invested in his job. So much, that he and his wife agreed on an open relationship many years ago and barely interact anymore. Not a gloomy business by any means: she gets to meet new people and he can enjoy his work and hobbies in peace and without guilt.

Yandere! CEO who doesn't think much of it when his wife brings home a young student she befriended at a convention. He nods dismissively, returning to his papers and phone calls. At dinner, he just hums in acknowledgement and fiddles with the cutlery while the woman talks about you excitedly. "You know, (Y/N) reminds me a little of you." Nonsense.

Yandere! CEO with whom you scarcely interact: he's a borderline workaholic, and your relationship is cordial at best. That is until you're asked by the wife to retrieve some important documents from their ridiculously luxurious apartment. You quietly tiptoe past the office, but can't help glancing at the imposing library, stacked with books. The man's sudden arrival startles and you begin to mumble apologies, but he seems more interested in your curiosity than anything else.

Yandere! CEO who can't believe you both like the same authors. He discreetly removes the folder from your hands, tasking one of the assistants to deliver it to his wife instead. There are more important matters at hand. Have you had your coffee yet? Oh, you must stay longer. What's the hurry?

Yandere! CEO who has become awfully perceptive whenever your name is mentioned in conversations, innocently probing for more details. Naturally, he wouldn't mind meeting you again, but it's not...a need, per se. He was just pleasantly surprised to find someone he could so easily engage in conversation with. Hell, you're old enough to be his daughter. Don't be ridiculous, he'll scold himself sternly whenever his mind wanders too far.

Yandere! CEO who begins to feel like each encounter is a flirty tease. Is it just wishful thinking, or are you becoming cheekier by day? The way you bat your eyelashes, the way you cast your eyes down whenever he looks at you. The next time you're alone in the apartment, he's too far gone in his delusions to act rationally. How unusual for him to act so nonchalant. Unbuttoning your shirt with haste, trailing your neck with hot kisses, lifting your leg and pressing you against the wall. He never considered himself the type to fuck a much younger woman out of raw lust.

Yandere! CEO who loves taking you on dates despite his busy schedule. Art museums, theatres, the Opera. He is eager to introduce you to his interests and will answer any question or curiosity you have. Who would've thought everything is better in two? Of course, there could be other factors involved. Like the added bonus of watching you squirm in your seat and biting your lips to be quiet while he fingers you at the peak of Act 3. Then smirking to himself when everyone stands up for applause, and you have to rearrange your dress to hide the wet mess underneath.

Yandere! CEO who worries about you when he's on work trips, so he tasks his right-hand man to look after you and keep you company. If you ever get lonely, you can rely on his assistant to take care of all your needs. Now, he's not one to share, despite his marital arrangement. As bizarre as it sounds, he just sees the employee as a mere toy, an idle occupation who can temporarily entertain you in his absence. What he does perceive as a threat is swiftly taken care of. It's enough for you to mention another student flirted with you, and you'll never see that person again. You have to understand that he doesn't play around with his assets. One he has something, he holds onto it with ironclad strength. And he's never been more desperate to keep something in his possession.

Yandere! CEO who makes sure to remind you why dating him is your best (and only) choice. You would've wasted your time with boys your age. He can offer you the world and more, all you need to do is ask for it.

[thedropsofblood]

A wolf in hunter's clothing

Warnings: Dub-con, age gap (????), mostly gender neutral but made with male reader in mind, size difference, started as rough -> slightly sweet mid-way, bratty reader, overstimulation, blindfolding, implied obsessive behaviour.

Word count: 8k

Minors DNI, do not report, I WILL cry /nsrs

Isekai, the act of transporting a person from earth to a different planet, world, universe, usually of a novel or a video game. It was a childish concept that you haven't bothered and never intended to look into, until you got 'isekaied' yourself.

Unlike what your younger siblings have told you, instead of beautiful vast magical worlds filled with sub-human species and a logical storyplot, you ended up in the most boring case scenario, a fairy tale. Specifically, the "Red Riding Hood" children's book that fell out of the shelf and onto the ground next to you while you were at a bookstore.

As any normal person does, you picked up the book, hoping to put it back to it's original spot, but got your body sucked into the pages instead. To be fair, it could've been worse, so, so much worse. You luckily didn't become the new Red Riding Hood, instead, you became the older brother of the Red Riding Hood.

It's not as bad as it sounds, like, you have a loving and caring family of both parents and an adorable younger sister, as well as a grandmother who you occasionally visits for the first 18 years of your life. What more could you ask for?

The life of your younger sister, that's what you could ask for. Even if they're technically not real, you couldn't help but care for them, care for the years of family meetings, the little happy moments, the vacations, even something as trivial as a meal together. And yet, imagine how your heart sunk in once you heard your mother tell your sister to deliver the cookies to your grandmother tomorrow after hearing rumors of the hunter being on break on the same day.

It made your anxiety levels go wayhire. Your sister's and your grandmother's life depended on the hunter after all, what would happen to them if there's no more hunter? Will they die under the wolf's hands? Can you even escape this book if they die?

.

.

.

Would you be trapped here forever then? What about your family outside of this? Would they even still remember you after 18 years? Worse, what if they just, hate you now?

Why should you even leave this place if that's the case?...

You crawled onto a ball on your bed, hugging onto the soft pillow in search of even a little bit of comfort. This place wasn't real, none of this is, your world was simply a scramble of words combined together by some random old man hundreds of years back, hell, you weren't even supposed to be here, why would you care if your supposed 'sister' and 'grandmother' dies?

Yet you found yourself restless. You had an idea on what to do, god knows if it'll work, but... It'll never hurt to try, right?

You throw your pillow away and change into warmer clothes, turning off the lights before sneaking out of the house through the window, heading directly towards the bright tavern in the middle of the town.

"Brother, why are you not eating? Do you not like it?" The voice of your sister knocked you right out of your thoughts, scrambling to take a bite out of the sandwich she made for you.

"No no- it's good, it's good, I'm just thinking about what I need to get for groceries." Your sister barely bought your excuse, barely. You can still see her crossing her arms and pouting in the corner of your eyes. She was glaring at you for a few solid minutes, as if trying to pry the truth from you. With a huff, she leaned back against the chair and muttered under her breath.

"Remember to buy some candy for me while you're at it then, I'm gonna go now. I don't wanna leave grandma waiting." You let out a mental sigh of relief, ruffling your little sister's hair. "You're just as childish as ever." You chuckled.

Before you sister leaves, she jumped into your arms to give you a hug causing a small smile escapes from your mouth. Your hand reached up to pat her on the head, if you had to be honest, you don't know if you regret your deal with the hunter or not anymore.

"Shit... If I knew slacking off would get you on my dick, I would've taken so many vacations."

The hunter chuckled, leaning in to place a loving kiss on your forehead. You pushed his head back to give him a glare, well, as best as a glare could be with the blindfold covering your eyes. You barked, gritting your teeth as you tried to kick him in the stomach.

"Shut the fuck up and just get it done with already. This deal was only for my family, bastard. Bet you can't even get anyone else to get into bed with you without forcing them into shitty deals-" Your words were cut mid way when he firmly slapped you across your face, his other hand gripping your ankle and hosteling your leg onto his shoulder.

You hissed in annoyance, yet a part of you felt pride for successfully pissing the hunter off. You can only assume what his face was like right now, is he glaring down at you like a lamb in the slaughter or is that stupid smug smirk on his face away? You didn't even have time to guess twice before he shoved his fingers into your mouth with a firm "Suck."

You held yourself back from laughing when you got your answer immediately, this guy was pissed as fuck. You decided to comply anyways, sucking on his fingers and making sure to bite them lightly as you pulled back.

"Sweetheart, did nobody teach you to not play with fire?" His hand wandered down to thrust his fingers roughing into you, his other hand gripping onto your chin to muffle your noises with a kiss.

This fucking bastard didn't even give you a warning before he turned you into puddy over his fingers, you bit onto the bottom of his lips, but instead of him pulling away, he continued on, ignoring the way you clawed onto his back as if you were trying to murder him.

Your hands reach up to try and remove your blindfold out of annoyance, leading to his hand snapping up to hold your wrists together, the other one pulling out of you to unbuckle his belt. "Good boys don't disobey their orders, sweetheart." He chuckled half-heartedly.

That scratched you in the worst way possible, but before you could even react, he thrust the tip of his dick into you, stealing all the air out of your lungs. "Fucking! Ugh- Warn me!" Your nails dug onto your palm, you felt like all your body strength just disappeared into thin air.

You didn't even have time to complain about it after he thrusted fully into you, huffing at the sight of your body shaking like a leaf under him. It was adorable how your attitude went away as soon as he entered, but to be fair, you would probably be more horrified when you realized his dick made a small bump on your stomach.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead as he started moving at a fairly gentle pace. He freed your wrists to grip onto your hips, leaning forward to place comforting kisses on your neck. "Come on, let me hear those beautiful noises of yours, sweetheart."

You bit the bottom of your lip to the point of drawing blood, your hands gripping onto the bedsheets underneath to the point of your knuckles turning white. Despite your efforts, some small muffled noises still managed to escape your throat, which was enough for him to speed up his ravage with a satisfied grin.

"You're truly so, so adorable, sweetheart." He groaned, hugging you and burying his face into your collarbone. Your hand moved to grip onto his hair to try and push him away, but it barely felt like anything to him due to the lack of strength in your body. Your antics didn't last long anyways, you were already a cock-drunk moaning mess under him, and at this point, he thinks he likes you better this way.

Those thoughts made him bite your neck roughly as he threw away all self control he had, prioritizing on chasing his own pleasure instead. You wouldn't have complained if you didn't get overstimulated from that, you already came a few moments beforehand, and he didn't even give you a break from abusing your sweet spot even more.

You couldn't be bothered to try and stay quiet when you felt like you would break under him. As a warm feeling filled your stomach, you felt lightheaded as you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down from the climax.

He pulled you into a hug, his hand patting you on the back of your head as he pulled out and rested you on your side. Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt a kiss on your cheek as he muttered something you couldn't make out.

A/N: This was supposed to be wolf X reader but I felt like writing some dilfs today, wondering if I should start writing more dilfs...

[jaal-ama-daravv]

dissecting the mortal emmrich argument scene (all routes)

dissecting the graveyard scene dissecting the mortal romance path scene how I think an argument reconcilation scene could've went emmrich x rook cinematic (mortal)

lich version dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) mortal vs lich romance path emmrich x rook cinematic

Emmrich Volkarin - Dissecting the Mortal Argument Scene

welcome back dearies

lets not dally with this one and get right into it -

starting strong with emmrich reviewing his will and testament/s -

important, but not yet, so do go on -

the emphasis on will tells us alot. coming from a storyboarding background, its easy to see why the emphasis was put on will. emmrich chose mortality, and will thereofre face death head on, as will rook. but due to rook being younger than emmrich (in any capacity), emmrich states that rook will outlive him. now he hasn't said it yet, but his fear is about to rear its head. keep in mind throughout all of this that this man is scared of how much he adores you.

but in the same sentence, we've got, "You've... grown to mean much to me..." - head over heels in love, rip my heart out and serve it to you in a platter, my heart, body and soul is yours type o' love.

I just wanna shake him, oh i just wanna shake him like a bag of treats, but very aggressively. he is so obviously LYING, rook makes a comment earlier in the game about how he is a SHIT LIAR. it sounds the exact same. BUT, and I say but with a hint of 'ah -ha!', lets read between the lines -

I care for you Rook! Deeply. - man has never been down as bad as he is - emmrich has never felt love like this. But there are such years between us - shut up rn I shouldn't heap you with that burden - HERE. he knows that Rook loves him, he can feel it. I imagine between quests they hold eachother's hand as the read books together on the balcony. as they make tea. as emmrich shows rook his mothers recipes. emmrich knows rook loves him, he just doesn't realize can nor accept how much rook loves him.

bonus, BURDEN ME, Im begging you, to BURDEN ME.

DIVERGENCE

god it hurt to replay this scene 3 times

Path 1 - Please don't worry, Emmrich.

he also broke my heart by worrying because i too, love him

fuck this line. i love you but look, I get where emmrich is coming from, but no. no no no, no no. whats fair would the world to be ending and being able to spend every waking moment in eachothers arms, to spend the final moments of 'what if' craddling your insecurities and nurturing love. instead we at the end of the world, arguing, because both rook and emmrich are fucking terrified to lose eachother. something about 'being fair' to someone by 'leaving' them irks meeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

solid and appropriate response

moving on because i have nothing nice to say

get his ass

emmrich is shockingly, overthinking the concept of death. ya know, that thing that cant be soothed or mulled over, pierces his heart and shakes his core? that, thing. yes shockingly, overthinking it. i get both perspectives here. Rook just wants to be taken serously and not for their age gap to come between the love they have finally found. emmrich so scared out of his mind he's trying to avoid it entirely. if you want a really gutteral playthrough before point of no return, pick this. I did, on my blind playthrough, it was a mistake, i cried alot.

unfortunately, very valid on both statement, but also true on both statements. Emmrich is both worried about Rook and insecure about dying. because either way, he loses rook, he loses his time with her. in this line of dialogue, emmrich is vry concerned with burdening rook with his death and the grief that will follow. Rook essentially tries to calm him in the worst way possible and it escalates. im not a fan of this dialogue path at all as the "at your age" comment is so out of pocket.

Path 2 - I mean something to you!

if you were to of told me that the purple rook option is the 'nicest' in these scenarios, I would...not believe you at all. It's still painful, but it's not an 'argument?'

strong start ngl

mans immediately defensive, but his tone of voice isn't raised like in the other scenarios. its more poised with care through it, more 'ugh, yes, i care about you, but this is about death'

in this dialogue path rook attemps to 'waylay' emmrich, aka, distract him and change the subject to something nicer, more comforting. though unfortnately, for people with crippling anxiety, nothing calms the mind when its in black and white mode.

eh, not what I would've gone with saying rook but ya know. eve before a battle, tensions high. still not great

emmrich wants to discuss being a burden to rook and rook is just not having it, im kinda into it.

again rook is trying to waylay emmrich into realising that he is overthinking things. however, to emmrich, this is real, rook may as well be dying in his arms rn. thats how real his fears are. we think back to emmrich being a child and losing his parents in a collapsed building accident. its likely he was there, and survived.

hence why it is so very important that we remember that his romance confirmation is the question, what would my parents want for me? and the answer is HAPPY WITH SOMEONE WHO CARES ABOUT YOU.

he is so terrfieid of death, and you and I both know, that when you have such a fear, it is amplified by 14747% when it is someone you truly care for. let alone the type of connection these soulmates have.

emmrich desperately pleading to talk about being a burden to rook, and rook is still just going, 'no', youre my burden now.

wee woo, a winner in my books because rook is not insulting his very existence or dismissing emmrich.

rook knows that emmrich is scared and would rather talk to him about being SCARED, instead of him being a burden because she fucking loves him and would never leave him.

rook is just as scared as emmrich but in this path, is trying to level with him. this is probably the one path where it concludes and I dont have a clear answer on who said the worst shit. i dont think any of them did, it was just riddled with concern, and a lack of communication.

Path 3 - Love scares you.

Rook pointing out the obvious. blunt and to the point. I do love that Rook is able to identify this straight away

Emmrich, taken aback by the comment by Rook, because it's the truth. he is scared because he loves rook. both by actually loving her and by how much he loves her.

"I can't... at my age" Is what this line is meant to be.

But once again, and we have discovered in previous posts, Emmrich has never considered himself 'worthy' of this type of love. And now that he has the love he has craved for decades, he considers himself too old. most likely due to his belief ssystem morphing over time to, "if it hasnt happened by now, it never will" probably in his 30's. Thats almost 20 years of doubt. We know Emmrich has been in relationships and involved with others since then, but nothing that even comes close to what Rook and Emmrich have. Keep in mind as well that Emmrich hasn't formed a connection with anyone in several years and has solely focused on work (i.e., lichdom) because what else do you do when you have given up?

straight to the point again

reiterating that this is a hard topic for him - kindness in this situation would desecalate emmrich and calm his mind, but unfortunately the end of the world takes no prisoners

man is terrified of love and the grief and vulnerability that embodies it

ouch

ouch

Rook's defensiveness and frustration reaches an all time high. rook wants the love of her life to tell her that he loves her, and emmrich doesn't want to burden his love with the grief that will embody her for the rest of her days. rook walks away feeling defeated, with a hole in her heart. emmrich is left with his overthinking thoughts, and most likely spirals.

Conclusion

In their facial expressions, and I have slowed them down to each frame per second whilst analysing, and both Emmrich and Rook share the same process of emotions after Rook's final statement.

Both Emmrich and Rook start out with a cross look on their face, eyebros tilted, eyes squinted, portraying anger, which is covering defensiveness, which is a defense mechanism for being vulnerable. After Rook says their final statement, this line is what 'pulls them out' of their defensive trances, but its too late, the damage has been done. Their facial expressions switch to a more, 'oh, oh that was just said', it turns to regret. the over arching theme of the game. they regret what they said, and their pride wont let them budge rn. the argument scene is important to the romance considering what happens next in the game.

"We'll talk when we get home, Emmrich. I promise." (the reconciliation line before fighting ghil)

hit me like a frieght train that did when i found out we were in the fade for weeks. emmrich, canonically, cries alone and has cold sweats at night when he is upset. do with that information what you will. it definitely happened when rook was gone. Hence why it takes Rook dissapearing in the fade for several weeks for their walls to collapse completely.

god fight, stuck in the fade, emmrich meticulously searching for rook, crafting the fake dagger, pulling them out.

At the end of the scene, Emmrich looks frustrated and devastated. the type of facial expression where it is clear he wish that conversation had gone differently.

Emmrich has low self-esteem, there is no simpler way to put it. This is apparent in the way he holds himself, in his mannerisms, and the way he reacts to rook expressing romantic interest in him. As two examples, consider the date with Emmrich, "apart from the compliment of your interest?", and in two flirt dialogue lines, he responds stating that he is surprised rook has shown interest in him. he wants this love SO BADLY, but he is so scared especially with how much death is around them. but emmrich is braver than he believes. it just takes, almost losing rook for him to embrace it.

phew, what a rollercoaster. ill have the mortal romance scene break down for you in coming days ♥

[motherofdogs1010]

Guys Not My Age I (Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary: They say sometimes older men are better when it comes to relationships, but Y/N finds that isn't always the case when she wakes up in bed with a certain younger man after breaking up with a certain Winter Soldier

Warning: 18+ only, age gap relationship, older woman/younger man!, everyone is over 18!, fratboy!Peter Parker, cheater!Bucky, computergenius!reader, hacker!reader, toxicex!Bucky, consensual sex, semi public sex, heavy smut, drinking, swearing, unprotected sex, eventual pregnancy

A/N: Re-write of 'Need to Know'

Series Masterlist

Banner @vase-of-lilies Dividers @firefly-graphics

Her head throbbed and pulsated as she begun to wake up.

The overall shittyness of a hangover taking over her body as the loud, blarming phone alarm rung hard in her ears as she groaned. She buried her face into the pillow as she felt movement coming from next to her, immediate confusion filling her mind as she heard, "Shit, sorry. Forgot that I had the stupid alarm on."

She recognized that voice even with it being laced with grogginess and sleep as she snapped open her eyes, wincing from the daylight that peeked over the curtains.

She was met with an unfamiliar room that looked like the standard college dorm: books and notes in an slight mess on the desk with a laptop hanging by it, posters on the walls and the distinct sound of boys laughing and footsteps coming down the halls.

Turning her head, her eyes widened as the memories of the previous night filled her as she resisted to gulp as she was met with the shirtless image of Peter fiddling with his phone.

The memories of the night before felt like a tidal wave washing over her as she remembered having gone out to drinks with the Avengers team to celebrate their latest takedown of yet another Hydra compound (she handled hacking into the tightly encrypted computers) and she knew Tony had partly also wanted to take her out to get her back out onto the dating scene.

She watched as Peter scratched his head for a moment, seemingly beginning to wake back up as she came to the realization of her naked body under the blanket and the realization of her memories being confirmed as she saw a glimpse of the scratches on Peter's back.

Sitting up as she tugged up the blanket, she wondered how the hell she was suppose to do a walk of shame out of her as Peter said, "anyway, want to get breakfast?"

"What?"

Peter tilted his head a little, "want to get breakfast? I thought since we were getting along so well..."

The ache between her legs from last night a reminder of how well they got along.

It wasn't like she didn't enjoy it or anything, but it was the realization that she had slept with someone nearly ten years younger than her.

"Peter, I'm-"

"I know. You're 30 and I'm 21, I don't care." Peter shrugged and she couldn't help but get distracted by his strong physique. "I told you I don't want a girl my age, I've wanted you."

It made her heart clench at statement.

"All I'm asking for is you take a chance", Peter pleaded, bringing their lips into a soft kiss.

It made her melt.

"Fine. One chance."

Peter grinned.

"But I refuse to be seen by a bunch of frat boys so you better make sure they clear out of here. I'm too old to be dealing with that."

"You're barely 30, no even that old."

Y/N downed the shot of tequila that Tony had passed her, laughing as she felt the burn in her throat and hearing Tony cheering. Say what you want about Tony, but he knew how to party as he had taken them to some nightclub that he bought for shits and giggles.

"Enjoying the burn", Tony teased, Y/N laughed.

"It's the tequila sweats that I hate", she said back.

Standing up from the little VIP booth Tony had rented for them all, Y/N scoped out her surroundings. She saw Nat dragging a bashful Steve to the dance floor, Steve was awkwardly moving around before he finally got the hang of it and began dancing with Nat. Y/N laughed as she watched Steve get down on the dance floor, she spotted Vision (who had his human form on) with Wanda near the bar as Wanda was getting another drink.

"Are you having fun?"

Y/N looked in the direction to see Peter standing there with a grin, Y/N smiled back at him.

"I wondered where you were", Y/N responded, "I always forget your 21."

"My baby face makes it that way", Peter joked.

Y/N had to admit, Peter Parker was a very attractive man, especially right now with his hair gelled back, a white button down that had the sleeves rolled up and dark slacks. Tony said Peter had changed a lot since high school, having managed to join a fraternity in his first year of college; she had only met Peter in the last year so hearing that he was anything but confident before was a little shocking since he walked around like a little mini Tony sometimes.

Peter moved a little closer to her as Tony announced that he was going to join Wanda at the bar.

Sam and Clint were missing, both men having taken some time off to go visit their families, especially for Sam since he wanted to be there for one of his nephew's birthdays.

Although, the person that everyone seemed to ignore that wasn't there was a certain Winter Soldier, but it seemed everyone was on the rocks with the man at the moment. But cheating and immediately bringing around the girl you cheated with will do that, won't it?

Of course that was the second main reason behind Tony bringing nearly all of them out to the club was because of her confiding in Tony about being ready to get back out there. She felt no issue confiding in Tony considering how close of friends they were, she was coming out in his upcoming wedding to Pepper in just a few months time.

"It's a cute baby face", Y/N teased, Peter chuckled.

"I'm glad you're having fun", Peter said, "you deserve it."

Y/N smiled as she tugged up the neckline of her red mini dress, the fabric clinging to her large breasts and hips. It was an off the shoulder dress that she chose just for the occasion with long sleeves and paired with some red bottoms that Nat was letting her borrow.

Y/N watched as Peter looked a bit indecisive as if he was second guessing himself before he blurted out, "Would you like to dance?"

"Don't you think you should be dancing with someone your own age?" she teased before Peter snaked a toned arm around her waist.

"Age is just a number, right?" Peter answered with a wink. "When it comes to two consenting adults, of course."

She wouldn't be an idiot to say she hadn't noticed the younger man's eyes roaming her figure. But she never thought much of it considering she had been in a relationship with Bucky, but that bridge was burned a lot time ago.

She was here to have fun, dance a little, drink... there was no harm in just a dance, right?

"Alright, Spiderboy", Y/N said, "show me what you got."

~

Wanna know what it's like (like) Baby, show me what it's like (like) I don't really got no type (type) I just wanna fuck all night

The sound of Doja Cat singing could be heard even in the women's restroom, the door locked in a rush as Peter pressed her harder into said door. Their tongues dancing across one another as she could taste the alcohol on his tongue, Y/N moaned as Peter slotted his knee between her legs, pressing against her wet cunt and beginning to rock her hips against him.

But Peter pulled his knee away and she whimpered, breaking the kiss for a moment before she felt one of his hands trail under her dress, finding her thong.

"You're soaked", Peter teased, she shuddered as Peter ran a finger down her slit. "I bet I could slid right in."

As if that was his cue, Peter slid a finger into her, Y/N let her head fall into Peter's chest as he slowly began to pump his finger in her.

"Don't tease", she moaned as she brought his face down to hers.

What's your size? (Size) Add, subtract, divide ('vide) Daddy don't throw no curves (curves) Hold up, I'm goin' wide (wide) We could just start at ten (ten) Then we can go to five (five) I don't play with my pen (pen) I mean what I write

She connected their lips again as Peter slid another finger into, fingering her harder now as he began to rub her clit in tight circles. Y/N cried out at the sensations as she rocked her hips in time with Peter's movements.

Peter began to trail kisses down her neck as her eyes rolled back into her head, her mouth falling open as pants escaped her mouth.

"Fuck you're beautiful", Peter said as he quickened his fingers. "Come on, Y/N, cum on me."

Y/N felt like she was in the Twilight Zone right now, but fuck it, she was enjoying it with the way Peter was fingering her. She could feel that tight knot building in her as Peter's fingers reached an area in her that made her nearly tear up in pleasure, his fingers practically massaging it as she began to tug on his hair as her toes began to curl.

"P-Peter", she panted, "gonna...cum..."

She saw Peter grin in satisfaction as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. She felt breathless and fuzzy as Peter fingered her through it before she whimpered at the overstimulation, which Peter pulled his fingers out.

"Still think I should find someone my own age?" Peter teased, she narrowed her eyes as she panted.

Peter slid his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them.

"I always knew you'd taste sweet", Peter said as she reached for his belt buckle.

Peter brought a hand up, squishing her cheeks together and forcing her lips into a pout; he pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips as she successfully managed to get unzip Peter's slacks, slipping her hand inside to begin to tease the younger man in front of her.

"Now, you wanna be a tease?" Peter groaned as he began to move her to one of the many sinks in the bathroom.

I just can't help but be sexual (whoa) Tell me your schedule (yeah) I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will) I do what I can to get you off (I will)

Peter had gotten her on the sink, legs spread and her thong stuffed in one of his pockets as he began to rock into her. Her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she felt Peter hike up her leg on him higher, sending him into deeper territory and brushing up against her G-spot as he began to rub her clit in time with his rocking.

"P-Peter", she slurred, eyes beginning to water from pleasure.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so good", Peter whined as he gripped the sink below her.

His thrusts becoming rougher as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Might just fuck him with my makeup on (I will) Eat it like I need an apron on (yeah, ay) Eat it 'til I need to change my thong (yeah, ay) We could do it to your favorite song (yeah, ay)

Her makeup was ruined, she was sure of it from the amount of kissing, sweat and tears. Y/N shivered as Peter bite down on a part of her neck, making her clench around her even tighter and causing him to let out more groans of pleasure, his hips slapping into her even rougher.

The sound of skin slapping skin rung in bathroom, echoing off the walls as she brought Peter's face back to her own, smashing their lips together as she squealed when her second orgasm hit her, her legs shaking and back arching.

You're exciting, boy, come find me Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me" Fuck that feeling both us fighting Could he try me? (Yeah) mmm, most likely

She had pushed Peter onto one of the toilets in the bathroom, his dick red and leaking when she had straddled him before sinking down onto him. Y/N shivered as she felt Peter stretching her out again and she knew she was going to be feeling him the next day as she moaned and threw her head back at the delicious stretch his cock gave her cunt again.

Peter gripped her hips before grabbing her ass and smacking it, she pulled her face towards his, connecting their lips as she begun to rock her hips.

Oh, wait, you a fan of the magic? Poof, pussy like an Alakazam (yeah) I heard from a friend of a friend That that dick was a ten out of ten

She could someone knocking on the door, but she could care less right with Peter buried so deep inside her as his hands that gripped her hips so tightly began to help rock her.

Baby, I need to know, mmm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🕷️🕸️💻~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes Y/N wondered what Peter had been like before he went to Empire State and joined his fraternity, and in this moment as they sat across from one another at one of the on-campus cafes, she figured maybe this might have been it with how he fidgeted a little.

"Nervous?" she mused, "this was your idea."

"I can't be nervous on a date with a pretty girl?" Peter remarked and she chuckled.

"Not after last night." Peter grinned and ran a hand through his fluffy, chocolate brown hair. "Besides, this isn't a date. This is you trying to convince me why I should go on a date with you."

"Sorry, it's just... I've liked you for awhile, but I didn't say anything because-"

"Because of Bucky?"

Peter looked down sheepishly and Y/N reached over to grasp his hand.

"And then when you two broke up, I didn't think it would be right to tell you because of how everything went down."

"You're doing a lot better than he did", Y/N said. "I appreciate that you waited, Peter. That's really sweet of you."

Peter grinned a boyish grin that Y/N couldn't help, but replicate back at him.

~

She had agreed to a date with Peter.

In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but think of the thoughts that others might have with her being seen with Peter. She examined her face in the mirror, trying to see if she had any wrinkles, age-related blemishes and sighed.

"You look stressed." Slightly startled, Y/N turned around to find Nat standing the doorway of her room with a curious look on her face.

"Just a little."

"Where are you off to? Hot date tonight?" Nat asked with a grin.

"About that", Y/N trailed off, looking at her outfit.

A white, blue-floral printed dress that cinched at the waist and was off the shoulder adorned her body with her keeping her makeup clean and simple, and her face loose and away from her face.

"Who's the lucky person?"

"Peter."

Nat was silent for a moment as Y/N felt the pit of anxiety in her stomach at the thought of her friend's judgement before Nat said, "well damn, didn't think the kid had the balls to make a move."

"What?" Y/N asked as she went to grab a pair of platform sandals.

"Anyone would working sense could tell the kid was eyeing your ass all the time", Nat nonchalantly said with a shrug. "Don't tell you didn't notice?"

"I noticed", Y/N defended, slipping her feet into the shoes. "I just thought it was because he was young."

"I also take it that you were with him when you disappeared from the club?"

Y/N's eyes widened as she looked away before Nat let out a laugh.

"Damn, you have to tell me all the details when you get back", Nat teased. "But I'm glad you're getting back out there again."

"You don't think it's weird? With me being older than Peter?"

"If men in their sixties can date women young enough to be their daughters, why can't you go on a date with a younger guy?" Nat shrugged.

Y/N gave Nat a smile and sucked in a breath.

"So, how do I look?" Y/N asked, posing for a moment.

"Like Parker will most likely fuck the shit out of you."

"Perfect."

Peter texted her not too long after that he had arrived and in an air of her favorite perfume, she met him out in the living room of the compound.

A sense of satisfaction fell over her as she noticed Peter's eyes raking over her body as she took in his appearance. His hair slightly gelled away from his face, a white button down shirt and black slacks framed his body.

They were alone in the living room, a rare event since the space always had at least one person present but apparently not today.

"You look amazing", Peter complimented, stretching out his hand and grasping hers.

He gently pulled her towards him as his eyes hungrily stared into hers.

"Thank you", she said with a small smirk. "I thought you'd enjoy this. Never worn it before."

Lost in their own world, they never noticed a certain figure hanging around the corner, seething as he watched Peter met her lips in a soft kiss.

His metal hand clenching into a fist as he turned away, fuming at the sight before him.

TAGLIST

@theoraekenslover

[slimybeth69]

"i'll be here."

rating: explicit- for drinking and joel's dirty thoughts. This is pure fluff NO SMUT and it's probably kinda corny but I DON'T CARE.

summary: Joel wants to make sure your New Years Eve isn't lonely.

tags: jackson!joel, Joel's POV, no use of y/n, no physical description (just an outfit) fluff, so much fluff, pining, age gap, him being handsome and perfect, mentions of food, drinking, being intoxicated so maybe dub-con (but not really)

w/c: ~3.6k

a/n: the holiday was hard as hell this year and it really didn't feel like christmas at all, so i wrote this for myself because i was sad. i hope any of you all that needed Joel to come and sing you songs and play gui-tar find some comfort in this.

thanks for @creepycorbeaux for reading this over. thanks to @thelastofgala for those beautiful gifs and thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

Joel wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing walking to your house with a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and his guitar in the other, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what you had said last night on patrol. 

“Whaddya end up doin’ f’Christmas?” 

The face you make when you look over at him almost makes Joel smirk for a split second. The way your nose scrunches and the corners of your mouth turn down slightly. Like you’re confused and upset with him ,and all he did was ask you a simple question.

Then you respond, “Whachya mean?” 

Joel doesn’t know how to answer that because… what do you mean? Your eyes are still squinted— like there is some sort of distrust in your soul. Like Joel is playing a joke on you right now.

“Uh, well… Ellie and I went to Tommy and Maria’s...” Joel is uncomfortable suddenly; he forgets that not everyone is as lucky as he is to have family here in Jackson. He doesn’t know you nearly well enough, so now he feels like an ass. He shouldn’t be asking you anything like that.

Or anything at all not pertaining to patrol. 

You don’t say anything for a while, you just hold onto the strap of your rifle over your shoulder, and then adjust your grasp on the reins with your other hand. “I just stayed home,” you answer him quietly, almost like you don’t really want him to hear you. “Made myself a nice dinner, read a book and went to bed.” 

That ‘put your foot in your mouth’ feeling creeps into Joel’s stomach and he wants to ask if you’d like to give him a nice rocket to his left jaw. He doesn’t stay quiet for too long, he doesn’t want you sitting in this awkward smog he’s created. “That doesn’t sound t’bad, honestly. Whaddya make?” 

Joel watches you out of the corner of his eye as you once again adjust the reins in your hand, waiting for you to either respond to his question or tell him to shut the fuck up. 

He wishes you would tell him to screw off because he never tries to make small talk, and this is why! He always regrets it!

“Just a venison roast with veggies from the greenhouse.” You finally tell him with a little more life in your voice this time, like you were actually proud of what you cooked yourself. “What did you and Ellie do at Tommy and Maria’s?” 

“Had a few drinks, ate some food. Nothin’ crazy.”

Joel didn’t have the heart to tell you that Tommy and him spent most of the day drinking and reminiscing, laughing about being young, stupid kids. Or that Ellie and Maria baked all day, listening to Christmas music someone had found a while ago. He didn’t wanna subject you to all that, knowing now you were home alone.

Since that night on patrol, Joel can’t get the image of you sitting at home on a holiday all by yourself. 

Probably being sad. 

There isn’t any particular reason why he feels so compelled to come knock on your door, there are plenty of other lonely souls that spend every holiday with no one else around. 

There was just a pull. Something inside of him that said go go go. 

Go to her.

He doesn’t really even know what he’s going to say to you if you decide to open the door for him. Hell, he’s not sure you’re even going to let him in! You’ve only ever gone on two patrols together. Y’all never really talk outside of that, but that’s mostly because he doesn’t see you around.

Not like he’s looking for you, or anything. 

When he knocks, it’s like his heart might hammer right out of his chest. Why is he so nervous? He’s just here to offer you a couple drinks so you don’t have to ring in the new year all alone. 

Ellie was with Dina and the rest of her friends, Tommy and Maria wanted to call it an early night because of the baby, and so Joel had two options: the bar, or sitting at home alone. 

It’s not that Joel didn’t like being alone. He had been alone since Tess, and that was still something he didn’t like to think about too much.

Too much loss for not enough of — whatever they had been. Losing her had almost been the final nail in the coffin, and if it hadn’t been for Ellie -

Don’t think about it.

Now Joel finds himself on your front porch, holding the screen door open with his large frame, and knocking lightly with the ass end of the bottle of whiskey.

From inside he can hear you moving around. His breath hitches in his throat when you finally open up for him. Joel watches your eyes scan him very quickly, taking in the picture in front of you. Your eyes go wide for a second like you don’t understand why he’s here.

Joel Miller on your front porch with a bottle of whiskey and his guitar. 

“Whaddya doin’ here?” 

Joel holds the bottle up for you to inspect closer as you wrap your arms around yourself like you’re trying to hide from him. 

Joel’s never seen you without your winter jacket, hat and gloves. Right now in your house, you have on a blue sweater, a pair of tight elastic tights that Joel wishes he could see you in more often, and the warmest looking socks he has ever seen.

His eyes scan the length of your body again involuntarily. His gaze lingers on your pants once again– so tight and they hug your curves (that Joel didn’t even know you had) in all the right ways.  

“Well, I reckon I came over here hopin’ you had cooked another roast, since it sounded so damn good when you told me ‘bout it on patrol–”

Joel continues his bullshit rambles about why he came over here as you start to smirk, and take a step back so the door can swing open a little wider and he can make his way in.

“The guitar?” You ask as Joel toes off his boots so he doesn’t track snow through your house. He hands you the bottle of whiskey, shifting the guitar between his hands as he takes off his jacket. 

“Figur’d if you wanted to share any of the food you made– I could share the whiskey… maybe play a lil gui-tar for ya.”

The last time he played the guitar for anyone besides Ellie– Sarah was still alive. 

Who is this man?

There was just something about the way you said ‘I just stayed home’. Joel was thinkin’ maybe you didn’t read a book and go to bed. 

Maybe you cried a little, missing whatever you remember from home. 

Joel knows all about that, all about the sleepless nights when you just can’t turn your brain off. You can’t stop thinking about the people that are no more, about how different things are now and how you’d give anything for them to go back to the way they used to be. 

Joel has Ellie and Tommy. Who do you have?

“You’re in luck because I did cook tonight,” you’re smiling at him and he thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you smile, too. 

So many firsts for Joel, he feels like a teenager as you lead him further into your house - which is clean and smells phenomenally good - and into the kitchen. 

Joel hadn’t expected you to actually offer him food, he didn’t know if you cooked dinners like that for yourself all the time, or only on special occasions. 

You take the guitar from him and pull out a chair at your kitchen table. For a moment he feels like his brain malfunctions and he’s not sure how to react. 

“You can sit,” You’re already in your living room. “I’m just gonna…” Then you trail off. 

When Joel peers around the corner to check on you, you’re very carefully leaning the guitar against the wall, holding your hands out to catch it in case it leans too far one way or the other.

Joel feels heat creeping up his chest and neck as he watches you, slightly bent at the waist. The tightness of your pants— 

Nope.

Once you’re satisfied that the guitar won’t fall, you turn around and smile at him, even though he’s just standing there watching you like an idiot– blushing!

Blushing?

Part of him thinks this was the worst idea he ever had. How could you be doing this to him and you’ve done absolutely nothing? 

He should go home. 

“Sit!” You urge him to take a seat at the table while you basically prance into the kitchen to start serving him a plate. Everything is still sitting on the stove in the pots you cooked in.

You explain that you already ate because you weren’t expecting company.��

Joel almost tells you not to worry about the food, but then what would he do? Play guitar for three hours? Getting drunk and talking all night seems like a terrible idea. 

What the fuck was he thinking? This was the dumbest thing he’s ever done, it really was. 

He shuts his mouth though when you set down a plate of steaming food in front of him. 

“Dig in! I have more than enough if you want a second plate.” 

The way you talk so casually, like you’ve known Joel your whole life while you walk back into the kitchen makes him jealous. 

How are you so nice? Sweet? 

You haven’t even been here for four months and this is the first time either of you have said more than ten words to each other that didn’t have to do with patrol. 

It’s the way your body moves when you walk without all your winter gear on. You sway… almost like you’re floating.

Knock it off, old man. She’s half your age. 

Joel has to squeeze his eyes shut for two seconds until he hears your feet padding back to the table. When he opens them, you’re pushing one of the glasses in his direction.

“You brought the booze, so you have to pour it.” 

The smile on your face makes Joel feel a mix of pride and guilt. 

What are you expecting of him? He can’t give you more than just tonight. He knows that, he hopes you know that too.

Joel opens the bottle and pours each of you a decent, sippable glass.He should have poured himself less. 

Probably should have poured you less.

The food tastes better than Joel’s had in years. He even finds himself asking for seconds, something he rarely does.

You’re making small talk as he eats, asking about his travels and how long he’s been in Jackson. If he likes it here, how old is his daughter.

Joel decides not to tell you that Ellie isn’t really his daughter, because biologically she isn’t, but it hasn’t felt that way in a long time.

As he eats, and you chat, Joel starts to relax a little. Your presence is calming, and he finds himself enjoying your company more than he thought he would. He pours both of you another drink, his regrets of pouring less last time completely forgotten.

The food is gone and you’ve cleared his plate. But the two of you are still sitting at the kitchen table. He’s not sure if it’s the fact that this is another first— seeing you up close like this. In the light of your kitchen Joel can really take in your features; your cheeks when you smile, and the way your eyes light up when you laugh at some dumb joke he tells.

You ask him about his life before the outbreak, and Joel hesitates before giving a very brief summary of his past. He doesn’t like talking about it all, and he avoids bringing Sarah up completely.

Not tonight. Probably not ever.

You listen attentively and ask Joel questions that show you’re actually interested in what he’s saying.

Joel continues to pour the two of your drinks each time your glasses are empty and you never tell him to stop. You suggest moving to the living room where it’s more comfortable, and Joel agrees without hesitation.

Go home. This is going to end badly.

There is a fire going in your fireplace, and Joel can’t sit down until he puts another log or two on, and he has to move some things around to get it going again.

“I can do it myself,” you say from directly behind him, sounding a little offended.

Joel doesn't even look at you when he responds, "I know you can. Just helpin'."

When he finally turns around, you quickly look away. Joel can’t help but smirk and feel that familiar in his lower belly.

Had you been staring at him?

Joel watches as you sink down into the brown leather couch, curling up with your feet underneath you. He settles beside you with just enough distance to be polite.

“What songs do ya’ know?” Your voice is soft and your words are slightly slurred. The alcohol has definitely started to affect you, but Joel doesn’t think you’re that drunk yet.

Joel looks at the clock on your wall and it reads 10:45 PM. He can do this. An hour and fifteen minutes left, then Joel can escape.

Not that he wants to. He has to or something bad is going to happen. Something he regrets. 

Something you might regret. 

But when you ask him about songs, he can’t help but smile. The alcohol is going down too easily, way too easy for both of you.

Joel clears his throat. "Whaddya wanna hear?"

You shrug, your cute blue sweater sliding off one shoulder. Joel has to fight himself to keep his eyes on your face as you mindlessly tug the sweater up. It’s like you didn’t even realize it happened. You kept your eyes on him the entire time.

"Somethin' that makes you happy."

The fact that you’re moving your feet to tuck your toes underneath Joel’s right thigh is sending electric shocks to his brain. He leans and grabs the guitar off the wall– careful to not move too much so he can keep the contact between the two of you. 

Shit. What is he getting himself into?

Joel holds the guitar, fingers tracing the old wooden curves. It's been a while since he's played at all. The strings feel ice cold under his calloused hands.

Joel strum a couple cords, “Know a few songs,” he says, clearing his throat. “Might be a lil rusty though,” he smirks at you and gives you a sideways glance. 

You smile from behind your whiskey glass and Joel feels something shift inside him. Something he hasn't felt in a long time. 

Something dangerous.

Your eyes are glittering in the firelight— different than they had looked in the artificial light of your kitchen. It casts a warm glow across your face, softening the edges that Joel has only ever seen sharp and alert on patrol.

He clears his throat once again and continues to move his fingers along the frets. The first few notes come out slightly off-key, but Joel quickly finds his rhythm. He starts with a Garth Brooks song.

Joel knows he’s not the best at the guitar and he doesn’t play it nearly as often now that Ellie is so busy with her own life. 

You don’t seem to mind, and sometimes Joel misses a chord or messes up completely because he can’t stop glancing over to watch you watching him.

He starts to sing, his voice low and gravelly. It's not a perfect voice - never was - but there's something raw and honest in the way the words tumble out.

… Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots And ruined your black tie affair The last one to know, the last one to show I was the last one you thought you'd see there

You shift slightly, your toes still tucked under his thigh, and Joel catches you watching his hands. Even as he continues to sing. You never take your eyes off of him. Not once.

… 'Cause I've got friends in low places Where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away And I'll be OK Yeah, I'm not big on social graces Think I'll slip on down to the oasis Oh, I've got friends in low places

Joel's voice falters for a moment when he notices the concentration of your gaze. His fingers momentarily stagger on the guitar strings, creating a clashing note that lingers in the air for a moment before he continues.

You don't seem to notice, or care. Your eyes are locked on his hands, watching how they move across the guitar with a kind of reverence that makes Joel's breath catch. 

Joel finishes the song, letting the last chord ring out softly in the quiet room. For a moment, neither of you moves. You're still watching him, your eyes heavy-lidded from the whiskey, but there's something else there too.

Joel’s eyes fall on the clock on your wall and it’s only 11.

He’s completely fucked.

Joel becomes acutely aware of how close you are.

Your toes are still tucked under his leg, and the warmth of your body seeps through the denim of his jeans. Joel swallows hard, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing.

"Another song?" you ask, your voice soft and slightly husky from the whiskey.

Joel clears his throat. "Sure," he manages, repositioning the guitar.

Joel starts strumming again, this time a slower, more mournful tune. His fingers find the familiar chords of an old country ballad, something he used to play for Sarah when she was real little. Before the weight of being a single dad started to apply pressure.

The memories threaten to overtake him, but he forces them down, focusing instead on the way the light flickers across your face. He can feel the heat of your body against his leg, the whiskey making everything feel soft and blurry around the edges. His voice is lower now, almost a whisper, like he's singing just for you.

Joel sings a couple more songs, a few at your request.

"That was really good," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. There's something in your gaze that makes Joel shiver - it’s a weakness, a longing that mirrors something deep inside himself.

When he looks at the clock again it’s 12:30.

“We completely missed new years,” Joel points to the clock and chuckles. He had completely forgotten that’s why he came over here originally. Once the music started, everything else kind of faded away. 

It was just the two of you while the rest of Jackson, and possibly the rest of the world stopped existing in that short time. 

“I was havin’ a good time,” you’re still smiling at him and now he can see how glassy they are from the whiskey. 

“Y’look like y’were havin’ a good time, darlin’.” Joel smiles and starts to stand up from the couch. It’s not until he’s standing directly in front of you realize what’s happening, Joel watches your eyes shift and change. 

Are you panicking?

“Are… were–” you cut yourself off and shake your head, waving a hand at Joel dismissively. “Nevermind. Thank you for coming over.” When you turn to look at him, your eyes are rimmed with a glossy sheen. The whites of your eyes had turned a hazy shade of red.

“S’wrong?” 

You shrug your shoulders, your sweater falling off your shoulder again. You don’t notice and twirl your whiskey glass in your hand slowly. “Nothin’. I had a good time… just sad you gotta go.” 

Joel knows he shouldn’t, but he gently replaces your sweater, his fingers lingering on the warm skin of your collarbone for a moment before he pulls away. “I’m all outta songs, sweetheart.” 

“You don’t wanna stay?”

Joel swallows hard and then cuts you off, “For what?” Joel whispers it and you snap your head up to look at him, almost as astonished as he is. Joel knows that the liquor and the way you had been looking at him all night is a recipe for disaster. 

Make me leave, please. Kick me out. Don’t ask me to stay again because I won’t be able to say no.

You finish the last of your whiskey before setting your glass down on the coffee table in front of your couch. 

“You know what.” 

“I do… but we’ve been drinkin’... ‘n I don’t want ya’ regretti–”

“What is there to regret?” you whisper. Your hand snakes into his and Joel doesn’t pull his away or nothing. “You gotta know more songs.”

Joel sits down beside you again, sighing loudly like this is a giant inconvenience to him, but a part of him knows that this isn’t going to end–

Not at all. 

Once he takes you upstairs, it’s over for the both of you. It’s like he can taste it in the air. 

“One more,” Joel nods his head at you. “Then I’m leavin’.” 

He and you both know that’s not true. 

His fingers find their holds on the neck of the guitar and he looks over at you before he strums the first note. 

You shy away from him, tucking your toes back under his thigh. Joel lifts his leg slightly so you can slip them deeper under his leg. 

There's no stronger wind than the one that blows Down a lonesome railroad line No prettier sight than looking back On a town you left behind There is nothin' that's as real As your face that's on my mind

Joel changes the lyrics just a little, and he doesn’t know if you notice, or even if you know this song. He's not ready to sing about love, not at all.

He confidently sings you the next part though.

Close your eyes I'll be here in the morning Close your eyes I'll be here for a while

hopefully y'all had a better time than I did.

love you all so so much

[talaok]

Keeping up

Pairing: No outbreak!Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You convince Joel to go on a hike with you, but being that he's 56 years of age, he gets home barely in one piece, which means he needs a massage, which may lead to something more...

Warnings: age gap (reader's 25 and Joel's 56), a lot of sexually allusive jokes and stuff, and very soft and fluffy smut (unprotected p in v sex)

"Keep up, Grandpa!" you called, turning around and catching him taking yet another break.

He had his knee popped to the side and his hands on his waist as he pretended to take in the view while really just trying to calm his heavy breathing

He had fallen behind a while ago, but kept insisting you continued at your pace.

It took a lot of convincing to persuade him to go hiking with you, some unconventional, but definitely effective methods of persuasion were used, and finally, this morning, you had managed to make him cave in.

It was only a two-hour hike, but he was acting like he'd been walking for ten days and nights with no food and water.

"I'm coming!" his voice sounded through the woods.

"You sure?" You couldn't help but grin, watching his chest rising and falling way too quickly

"I just need a moment"

Letting out a breathy smile, you retraced your steps on the makeshift track to reach his side.

"Tired?" you asked, already knowing the real answer, and the one he was gonna give you.

"Nope" he lied, making you chuckle.

He was so predictable

"Ah" you hummed, mocking him "so you're choosing to walk ten steps behind me"

He turned to look at you, his hazel eyes sparking with mischief

"Well, I don't mind the view these leggings of yours are giving me..." he arched a brow as his hands reached for your ass through the fabric.

"perv" you smirked

"Yup, that's me" he nodded, bringing you in for a kiss.

He could never get enough of you.

He had no idea how he had managed to make you fall in love with him, and so he acted accordingly, kissing and touching you every chance he got in case one day he was gonna wake up and this turned out to be just a dream.

"at least you admit it" you joked, biting his bottom lip playfully.

Oh how he fucking loved you

"C'mon now, we're almost there" You smiled that stunning smile of yours that made him almost forget how tired he was.

"You said that an hour ago too, angel" he reminded you

"I did, didn't I?" you smirked, starting up the hill again, and leaving him behind to wonder how the hell he had ended up there.

But then of course he knew... his ability to say no to you seemed to disappear every time his cock was in your mouth.

__ __ __

"goddamnit sweetheart" he groaned, laying on the bed face down.

He didn't bother to change into his clothes simply because he couldn't, the towel around his waist was gonna have to do.

By the look of it, your advice of "A hot shower will help you out" hadn't really worked.

"Poor baby" you cooed, setting your book down on the nightstand to pay attention to him.

"I'm never hiking with you again" he sighed "I'm hurting everywhere"

"I'm sorry" You stifled a smile at his pained expression "Here," you said, getting an idea "How 'bout a massage?"

"Mh that does sound good" he considered

"Yeah?" you asked, getting on your knees beside him

"Yeah darlin'"

You smiled, as you gingerly straddled his hips, not wanting to hurt him.

You rubbed your hands together to make them hot and then gently pressed them against the very top of his broad back, slowly starting to make your way to his shoulders to rub his pain away.

He groaned in pleasure beneath you

"fuck that feels good" he breathed once you applied more pressure.

You chuckled "I've heard that one before"

"Mh, I'm sure you have, angel" he grinned, closing his eyes as you took such good care of him.

You smiled as you started massaging his lower back too, drawing circles with your thumbs and relaxing his muscles one at a time.

"You're really good at this sugar," he spoke, as his hand found your right leg and started caressing it slowly to try and pay you back a little bit.

"Why thank you" Your lips pulled into a smile "I'm a woman of many talents you know?" you murmured sultrily, bending down to gently press a kiss to his neck.

"I know that very well, darlin'"

"Good" you nodded, finishing up his back "Now turn around"

"Yes ma'am" he obeyed immidately once you got off of him, just to climb back immediately once his back was on the mattress.

His heart couldn't help but skip a beat at the sight above him.

You looked so fucking sexy drowning in that shirt of his, and the fact that he was pretty sure you only had a pair of panties underneath it, only made it worst for him.

You didn't seem to notice the way he was practically eating you up with his eyes as you started massaging his chest.

God those hands of yours deserved their special place in heaven

He watched you biting your lips to concentrate as your fingers made all his pain disappear for just a moment.

Suddenly, he noticed a smirk splitting your face as you looked up at him.

"I see somebody isn't as tired as you" You raised an eyebrow before gently rubbing your core against his growing bulge.

"oh fuck" Joel breathed heavily 

"Sweetheart..." he murmured pleadingly as you did it again

"What?" you teased

"Trust me I'd love to fuck you right now, but I'm afraid that if I move one single muscle I'll have to go to the emergency room"

The chuckle that left your throat sounded more like angels singing to Joel.

"Who says you have to move a muscle?" you asked mischievously, as your hand slowly reached for the towel around his waist, undoing it in one swift move.

"Oh darlin'" he grinned lazily, "I'll never know what I did to deserve you"

You laughed softly at how happy he looked, before getting rid of his towel and taking his cock in your hand.

He was throbbing already

You stroked him a few times before you let your fingers find your panties and quickly pulled them to the side.

You wasted no time sinking down onto his length.

Giving him this massage had worked you up just as much as him.

his groans merged with your moans at the motion

"f-fuck" you muttered

No matter how many times you had sex with him, your pussy never really got used to the stretch.

"goddamnit darlin', you feel so good" he breathed

You smiled down at him before deciding to take off your shirt.

You didn't want it to get all sweaty...

He groaned even louder at the sight.

Your perfect tits bare before him, your perfect cunt hugging his cock so well, your perfect mouth parted as you sucked in ragged breaths, and then finally your perfect blown-out pupils staring down at him like he was the most handsome man on earth.

You were a fucking vision.

"fucking christ angel-" he growled as you started moving up and down his shaft "Look at you" he whispered, not able to stop his hands once they reached for your waist "How are you this fucking perfect?"

You just let out a breathy chuckle, continuing to bounce on his cock.

God, it felt good.

He always managed to hit that spot inside of you that made you feel better than anything else.

Your nails clawed at his chest, no doubt leaving some scratches, not that he minded... he loved when you marked him up.

Suddenly, you sped up your movements, making him tighten his hold on you

"Jesus Christ sugar" he groaned "How do you still have any energy left?" 

I mean every muscle of his had given up even trying, while you... well while you still had the energy to ride him like a damn pornstar.

And he would have liked to say this was the first time something like this had happened, but the truth was that the difference of age between him and you had made itself heard more times than he liked to admit.

He wasn't a teenager anymore, his back wasn't the same, his stamina wasn't the same, and you... Well, you were the exact opposite.

You were unstoppable, and fuck but you were insatiable

Before you, Joel got laid maybe once every six months, and now he found himself having sex at least twice a day.

Not that he was complaining obviously, it's just that he sometimes still wondered how the fuck you managed to pull it off.

"That's what being 25 will do to ya" You smiled, leaning closer to him to kiss his neck

"Mhh" he hummed, as one of his hands reached upwards to grab your tits "You're saying I'm old?" 

The soft sound of your laugh tickled his ear 

"I'm saying I'm young" you answered, rubbing your nose against his beard until his mouth was right in front of yours and all you needed to do was kiss him.

One of your hands had to grab at his shoulders as you felt your orgasm approach.

"oh fuck baby" you breathed, ghosting his mouth

"you coming?" he asked, watching as you shut your eyes, lost in pleasure.

"mh-mh" you managed to nod, before you hid your face in the crook of his neck and bit down onto whatever piece of skin you could reach.

"That's a good girl" he praised as his left hand found your butt and gave it a good squeeze "Give it to me angel" he urged

And without another word, you did, squeezing him and making him come just as you were coming down your own climax.

If he had to be honest he had been close since you had taken off your shirt.

"mhhh" you hummed satisfied, as you leaned away a little to look at him.

His lips looked way too delicious, so for good measure, you met them with yours for a brief moment.

"goddamnit sweetheart, you're gonna kill me one of these days" he smiled, gently stroking your sides

"Yeah..." a mischievous smirk erupted from your lips "and that day might be today"

"What are you talking about?"

You grinned

"Ready for round two cowboy?" 

[haymitchsbunny]

Drink Me Away

dividers by @anitalenia

Series: Hunger Games (Suzanne Collins)

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x F!Reader

Warnings: Age gap, porn with so much plot, smut, vaginal sex, daddy kink, slightly weird dynamic, traumabonding(?), underage drinking/alcoholism in general

Summary: You were never more than just drinking buddies with Haymitch, until you came to him for consolation when your parents disowned you. He never planned to make a move, but you couldn't handle it. He was your favorite person- but that could never progress, right?

A/N: Absolutely no writing of the actual Games- just there for plot reasons. I've loved Haymitch for so long and theres absolutely no xreader fics with him, so I wrote my own.

Please let me know if i missed any warnings! happy readings ☆

You came from a well-off family, one that had never had to put their children in danger with tesserae, one that got the freshest bread, one that had no idea about their eldest daughter's after-school activities; heading to the hob as often as possible, paying anyone she could for a bottle of spirits. You began when you were 16.

Your only true drinking competition was Haymitch Abernathy- he had known your family for years, but as close as he was with your father, he had never known you. You never cared to approach him when he entered your house or when your parents spotted him in the square.

When you became a regular Hob attendee, you saw much more of him. Drinking competitions became a regular occurrence between the two of you when you were 17, praises of your tolerance always boosting your ego at 18. This lasted until you were 19.

Your father had a rough day at work. He had visited the Hob for the first time in year, accompanied by Haymitch. He had come to try and spot you before your father could and tell you to book it. It didn't work out that way.

Haymitch spotted you two seconds too late, after hearing the deafening screech of your father yelling your name across the Hob. You froze in place, glass in hand and arm on a man who's name you couldn't remember. The sounds around you died around somewhat, all eyes on the father-daughter exchange.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He hissed, approaching rapidly.

"I'm 19, dad, I'm allowed to have fun," you huffed.

"Since when is 'fun' illegal drinking in the black market?"

"A while now, actually."

"You're grounded."

"I'm 19."

"Then get your shit," he snatched the drink from your hand, throwing it back like water. "And get the fuck out of the house." He slammed the glass against the table, turning tail and leaving.

You sat, stunned at the confrontation. You slipped off your barstool and followed your father's path in a haze. You jumped when a hand clamped around your wrist, eyes flickering to Haymitch standing there, concern splashed through his features.

"What happened, sweetheart?" He questioned genuinely.

"Nothing, Haymitch, don't worry about it," you sighed, trying to pull away and not drag him into family business.

"I said 'what happened', kid. Not 'do you want to tell me'," he demanded.

"I- nothing," you stopped yourself. It was none of his business!

"I want to help you, let me, please." Well you never thought you'd hear him say please.

"My dad kicked me out- happy?" You fumed, a sudden rage building in your belly as you yanked your wrist away from him with all your might and began stomping off.

"You can stay with me," he called after you. "The couch is comfy." You turned on your heel back to him.

"You're kidding," you blanched. "Seriously? You'd let me stay with you? Why?" The questions spilled out, confusion and appreciation mingling.

"Because I care about your wellbeing, kid," he chuckled. "And if you're living with me you ain't gotta head all the way to the Hob for a drink or two."

And so began the complicated relationship between the two of you. Two unemployed day drinkers with no hobbies, no friends, and no family. You found out that your mother wanted nothing to do with you, and they wouldn't allow your siblings to see you. Haymitch had no family left alive. You were both stuck drinking away your sorrows together.

He didn't make you get a job- just run errands. Get food, get living supplies, relax. He got the liquor. He kept you from drinking too much, usually limiting you to three glasses at a time. A good majority of your time was spent cuddling. It wasn't weird. It was just.. comforting. For the both of you. Nothing weird.

The night you had moved in with him was the first time. You were vulnerable, and ended up sobbing on the floor with a bottle in your hand. He slipped it out gently, setting it on the ground next to you. He leaned down and picked you up off the ground with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms around his neck. He laid down on the couch with you in that position, letting you blubber and yap until you fell asleep.

When you awoke, you were squished between the back cushions and his body comfortably. His arms laced around your waist, holding you to his chest, his face in the crook of your neck. You dozed back off and when you awoke he was sitting at his armchair, unphased and watching the news.

it had been 6 months since that night. You drank with him almost every day, had two friends which were men you had drank with at the hob, and had hobbies and a black cat that roamed freely through Haymitch's house. Things were.. good.

And you were falling for your housemate.

He was nothing more than someone who you cared for. You were legal, yes, but he was so much older than you. He was a respectable man- sure, drinking the days away with a friend's disowned daughter wasn't exactly mature behavior, but at least he held you close every time you cried. But that was purely platonic affection, him caring for your well-being and holding you through the night being the only way he knew to comfort you.

That night, you drank your feelings away with him. He was getting louder and you were getting quieter, watching him carefully. Trying not to expose the vile thoughts running your mind into the dirt as he blabbed about his favorite liquor.

The heat in your tummy only got worse as you drank more, giving him professional fuck-me eyes by your 4th. If he noticed, he didn't say anything. But by the way his eyes never left yours, even when you looked away, you were sure he had.

"H-Haymitch," you hiccuped, certain you were bordering alcohol poisoning. You never drank this much- either you had enough or he stopped you. Not tonight. "I'm not, I'm really, uh," you couldn't get your thoughts straight. "Take me to our room, please." You managed to get out.

"Our room?" He questioned, brighter than you'd ever seen him. "Last I checked, we've never slept in it at the same time. If anything, the living room is our room." He sauntered over to you slowly, placing his bottle on the table in front of you. You reached for it and got your hand smacked. You were already feeling a little green.

"Just take me," you groaned, choking back a gag. "I'm sleepy." You whined at him.

"Sure you don't need to vomit, sweetheart? Do it before I tuck you in, if you would be ever-so-kind," you shook your head no, but then stood swiftly and shook your head yes. He guided you to the sink as you emptied the contents of your stomach in it. He held your hair. You tilted your head back up and turned the water on, washing the liquid away.

"Atta girl, let's get you some water, why don't we," you groaned and nodded, washing your hands and turning back to him as he handed you a bottled water. You chugged it, feeling a tad more sober, and you began to walk to the bathroom. Haymitch sat back down and swirled his finger around the lip of his cheap whiskey bottle.

You brushed your teeth and tongue thoroughly. You wouldn't have cared, you didn't. But something in the way Haymitch's fingers continued to linger on your skin made you start to. You exited the bathroom, swishing a bit of mouthwash through your teeth before walking to the kitchen sink and spitting it out there.

"Take me to bed." You requested, standing in front of haymitch in your big tee-shirt and shorts.

"Awfully bold now, aren't you sweetheart?" He rasped, standing almost as soon as you had asked. He walked towards you, leaning down and scooping you up bridal style. You were not expecting this- a belly laugh escaping from you as he began to walk you up the stairs.

You were drenched. Absolutely soaked through your panties. You just prayed he wouldn't notice anything off about your demeanor- maybe he would just chalk it down to the abundance of alcohol in your system?

"Haymitch! Do you have to be so rough?" You gasped as he nearly threw you and himself onto the bed. As you recollected yourself, he stood. "Leaving so soon?" You whined playfully.

"Not if you don't want me to, doll," he chuckled. His raspy voice sent a chill down your spine.

"Well, I mean," you sputtered. "I would- I don't, no. I don't." You finally got your words out, pursing your lips and peering up at him through your lashes as he laughed at you.

"God, you're a mess, aren't you sweetheart?" He mocked, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you. "I would almost think it's more than just the alcohol at this point, wouldn't you?" You inhaled sharply through your nose at the insinuation.

"What? No, I'm just really drunk, that's all-" he pressed his thumb to your lips.

"Quiet," he whispered, leaning closer to you. "Lying won't get you anywhere in life, sweetheart." God, he was so close. You could smell him, more than usual. Pine and whiskey, mingling into the sexiest thing you had ever had the pleasure to smell.

You whimpered out loud when he pulled away. He smirked at you. Your eyes went wide as he began stripping. "Wh- why, what-" You tripped over your words, nearly beginning to crawl towards him. He was clearly relishing in your newfound behavior.

"Calm yourself, doll," he chuckled, flopping down next to you on his bed. "I'm just getting comfortable- you wanted to sleep after all. Right?" He was asking for your honesty.

This was the make-it-or-break-it of the night- he was giving you the chance to tell him what you were feeling. "I, uhm," you began with so much confidence and hope. But then, your critical thinking kicked in. He didn't actually want you to respond like that! He was warning you not to act on your obvious desires.

"Yes, just want to sleep," you muttered, beginning to pull your shirt from your body. You stood before you could finish. "I'll go to the bathroom, sorry." You apologized, melancholy. He grabbed your wrist.

"You're fine, sweetheart," he was serious. Your heartbeat increased and you suspected he was feeling at your pulse with the way he was squeezing. "Lying won't get you anywhere." He intentionally repeated his words from earlier. A shiver ran down your spine and settled in your bones. You were on edge and dripping wet. You whimpered.

"Haymitch, please," you whispered. "Don't make me say it." You pouted at him with glazed eyes and he pulled you back onto the bed in front of him. You were looking at him with need in your eyes, and he nearly matched your expression.

"Well, if you're so tired, you'd better get ready for bed, right, sweetheart?" He rasped, and you felt disappointment settle in your gut.

"Oh, uhm, yeah, I guess," you spoke quietly, scooting yourself to be more comfortable as you reached under your shirt to unclasp your bra. You were looking away from him, trying to avoid facing the cause of the weight on your chest.

A featherlight touch on your abdomen drug your attention away from your failed attempt, arms falling to your sides as he replaced your hands, unhooking the garment with ease. The straps fell from your shoulders as he reached to the bottom of your shirt. You raised your arms and let him lift it, leaving you in nothing but shorts and your loose and unsecured bra.

You looked at him in curiosity. He noticed and smirked. "You have to be comfortable to sleep, don't you, sweetheart?" His gentle grip turned demanding and you gasped as he snatched the only thing covering your breasts. Your arms flew to cover yourself and he slowly reached to restrain your wrists, shifting his weight so he was holding himself over you, pinning your wrists into the mattress.

"H-Haymitch," you whispered, barely audible.

"Yes, love?" He matched your volume, leaning so close that you could taste the whiskey on his breath.

"Kiss me," you asked. "Please." He looked from your eyes to your lips, silent for a moment.

"There's no going back if we do this," he warned, staring into your eyes for any tell of your thoughts. All he could see was desire. The same burning desire that fuelled the hard-on in his briefs. "I won't pretend anymore, especially not if you let me do what I want right n-"

"Shut up and kiss me, Haymitch," you groaned, bucking your hips up and rubbing yourself against his clothed erection. "Before I change my mind." You giggled.

He pressed his lips to yours fervently, touching you in a way that all the hours you had spent together could have never prepared you for. His hands flew from your wrists and his weight shifted to his knees, pressing your heat to his cock as he practically dry-humped you through your makeout. He was rubbing his thumb into your hip, squeezing it so tightly but you relished in it. His other free arm was pressed into the pillow next to your head, keeping him from crushing you under his weight.

"Good God," he groaned out needily, pulling away from your lips to begin kissing and sucking on your throat. He threaded his fingers through your hair, tilting your head for more access to your quickly purpling neck. "Sweeter than candy, you know that?" He grumbled against your skin. Your hands were settled in his hair and on his broad shoulders, taking in every sensation.

"There's something I would like to taste," you smirked slyly, pushing at his shoulders gently, sitting up with him.

"Oh, really? And what might that be, darling?" He reached up and held your hands as they sat on his shoulders. You reached down to his briefs and pulled them until his cock sprung from the waistband. You gasped at the size of it, watching it slap against his stomach with a soft sound.

"Y-You're so," you stammered. "I'm not sure I can take all of that, Haymitch.." He chuckled, replacing his hand in your hair as he pushed you towards his cock, pulling you with him as he readjusted against the headboard.

"You'll learn." Was all he said as he pulled you until your lips were wrapping around his broad head.

"You're so," you spoke around his tip. "So girthy, Haymitch.." He laughed at your muffled words, spoken with his cock bumped against your cheek. You began to swirl your tongue around his tip and he sighed, letting his laughter die down. He shifted his hand and shoved his dick straight into the back of your throat. You gagged and sputtered, pulling off and coughing with your cheek against his rigid member.

"It ain't Haymitch to you anymore, sweetheart," he growled. Your eyes widened, not sure what his next words would be. "It's daddy. Got that, doll?" You gasped- how vulgar, why would he ever think you would call him something so, so-

"Yes, daddy," your own words caught you off guard. You picked your head up and proceeded to gag on his cock until you felt as though you could throw up. A few times, you were enveloped in pure bliss. Those were the moments when he groaned and shoved your head down so far that your nose buried in the thick hair at the base of his cock. You felt so used and proud of yourself.

"Atta girl," he praised, lifting your head off his cock and smirking at you. You were panting, saliva and precum coating your chin. "So gorgeous like this, should get you drunk like this more often." He kissed you gently, contrasting the roughness of which he just fucked your throat.

"Please," You begged quietly. "Please fuck me." Haymitch chuckled at you.

"Say my name, darling," he growled. You began to say Haymitch, but he interrupted you. "Not that name, doll." He corrected, grabbing you and pulling you on top of himself until you were straddling him. You were slightly caught off guard, grinding down on him and moaning. You were still clad in your shorts and panties.

"Please, daddy," you whimpered. He chuckled, gripping your hips and pressing you harder against him. "Please fuck me, daddy!" You cried out, throwing yourself forward into a kiss. He flipped you over, pressing your back into the mattress. He sat up and yanked your shorts down before ripping both sides of your underwear. You yelped in surprise and scolded him.

"Consider it a souvenir, sweetheart," he chuckled at you. "A souvenir from the first time you're getting fucked by me." You gasped, feeling him begin to align his thick head with your entrance. He pushed in slowly, and you cried out.

"Daddy! Be gentle, plea-" You were cut off by a silent moan getting caught in your throat as he bottomed out. "Mmhm, please wait a- a momen- mm." You could barely speak, he wasn't thrusting but he was circling his hips ever so slightly, giving you friction in parts of your pussy you didn't even know you had.

"Oh, I'll be gentle for now, sweetheart," he groaned, beginning to thrust gently. "But I can't promise that'll last." He kept a slow and rhythmic pace, bottoming out with every lingering thrust. You let out a sharp breath every time.

He picked up his pace, your breath hitching with every thrust. You did your best to hide any moans, but could barely contain yourself. He began suckling on your neck and unintentionally digging his fingers into your hips.

Then, he pulled out. You whined at the unwanted emptiness, but then he grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your stomach. He began pounding into you, faster and harder and deeper than before. You became a slurred, moaning mess. He didn't stop, ignoring all of your moans and pleas of pure pleasure.

He had already begun to bruise your hips, squeezing and pushing and pulling to fuck you oh-so-nicely, penetrating you over and over.

He started getting rough, leaning over you and removing his hands from your hips. He started fucking you with the force of his whole body weight, leaving you moaning like a whore underneath him.

"I'm close, sweetheart," he growled. "You?" Not taking a break to let you answer, if anything going faster.

"Ah, uh, mm-mhm!" You cried. "K-keep, nn, going! Please daddy!" and with that, he lost all tempo and fucked you ruthlessly. He picked you up, put you on your back, pressed your knees into your chest, and slid back in one smooth motion.

This new angle was so deep, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You cried out, reaching to Haymitch and gripping your hands in his hair.

"Daddy! Please, please, please, PLEASE," you screamed, begging for release with all your might. He reached down, playing with your clit for a moment, and you burst.

You felt the heat in your tummy rush to all your pleasure points, overwhelming you. Haymitch didn't slow down, but when you began to squeeze his cock like a vice, he pulled you close and started with short, deep thrusts.

You fell asleep immediately.

When you awoke, you were alone in the bed. You looked around groggily, no sign of your newfound lover. You slipped your feet to the side of the bed, attempting to stand. Your knees gave out, but you caught yourself on the bed.

You noticed that there was no trace of your earlier activities- a clean bed that you had just been tucked nicely into, your legs had no residue of either yours or his juices. Your hair was neatly combed.

You heard the sound of water shutting off, and figured Haymitch had been showering. A few minutes later, he exited with damp hair and a towel around his waist. You were intrigued.

"Good mornin', darlin'," he chuckled at the way you were looking at him. "Looking so eager for another round, huh?" He teased. You settled back into bed.

"Soon," you told him. " But for now, come lay with me." You smiled, scooting further into the bed to give him space. He dropped his towel and walked towards you. You dampened at the sight of his semi-hard cock.

He slipped into bed next to you, flipping you over so your back was to his chest. His cock rested between your legs, the head bumping your clit.

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he whispered, moving his hips and making his cock bump your sensitive nub. "That's what you wanted, right dear?"

A/N: hope you enjoyed! please leave asks/requests! BEGGING YOU!!!

[megangovier]

Comforting him🫶🏻

Older! James x soft wife! fem reader

Mention of y/n Summary: James walks into the house and collapses on the couch defeated and tired. You've just came downstairs from running him a bath, he heads upstairs and relaxes. His dinner was in the over warming up, you'd cooked him his favourite and made a cookies and cream cheesecake.

Warning: Fluff, soft! Reader, alcohol, age gap, pet names, mdni ♥️

four years ago..

You were heading down the park, coffee in hand, book in the other. Headphones in ears listening to podcasts, when you accidently bumped into a handsome looking man "sorry sir-" your eyes widened. You couldn't believe how gorgeous he looked, he looked older than your dad but couldn't care about that "sorry ma'am, I wasn't paying attention" bending down to get your book James grabbed it before you could "here you go ma'am, I'm James btw but people call me Logan" shaking his hand "nice to meet you James, what a lovely name by the way, I'm y/n" James's face heated up, he didn't get much compliments but you made his day already.

"You're stunning y/n, want to go for a coffee one day maybe?" a twinkle in his pretty eyes appeared, and a shy smile appeared on your face "sure, here's my number I'll text you when I get home and we can set a coffee date" you haven't been on a date for years, it was surprising when a handsome man asked you, your stomach flipped, and your heart was dancing in your chest. You didn't know this man but why was your body reacting this way? he's a stranger to you but something about him made you somehow interested in him. The kindness in his eyes, the cute smile. You didn't know.

When you got home and closed your door, you were leaning against it with the biggest shit eating grin on your face, heart beating out your chest and knees weak. No man has made you feel like a jelly mess before, there's definitely something about him you like. Once your legs stopped feeling like jelly, you looked in your diary to plan that coffee date with James looking through you had a free day Saturday which was a few days away. You left James a voice mail as he was busy today and hopefully, you'll hear from him soon.

three years later... You both get married and brought a house together♥️

James was known to have such a strong work ethic; at times it did worry you when you didn't see him for hours on end. Sometimes he wouldn't come home which would cause panic, but he always came back to you in the end. So, when James walked through the door, he collapsed on the couch looking so defeated a sad smile washed over your face "I've ran a bath for you sweetheart, take your time up there darling, I've cooked your favourite meal and it's currently warming up in the oven and made your favourite cheesecake" James getting up from the couch, he kissed you on the cheek lovingly "Thank you honey, you're so good to me! see you soon"

James heads upstairs, you check on his food and turn down the temperature. The cheesecake was currently in the fridge, the table was set with one fork, knife and spoon. You've already ate a few hours ago but wanted to make sure he'd ate all his. Red wine on the table, whiskey in his glass. An hour later, you could hear footsteps coming downstairs, birchwood and vanilla scent in the air. You went around the table and pulled out his chair for him and he sat down "thank you gorgeous, this looks amazing" sitting oppose him, taking in the beautiful view.

You couldn't believe how lucky you're to have such a protective and caring man as James. When he ate, it always put a smile on your face, you always made sure he ate something throughout the day especially when he's busy away or close to home. He had just finished his meal and rubbed his stomach in satisfaction licking his lips "that was so nice, you sure know how to make my favorites don't you honeybun" a smile fell onto your face, getting up to put the plate and cutlery in the sink you head to the fridge and took out the homemade cheesecake you made for him this morning.

"So, how's your day been sweetie?" James said.

Looking at his beautiful brown eyes "It's been good, better now that you're home" a smile appeared onto his face, he definitely looks tired so after his dessert you are going to take him to bed and appreciate all of him. After a few more glasses of red wine, you took his hand in yours, opened the bedroom door and went into the bathroom to brush your teeth, went to the toilet and slipped into your pj's. James went in after you, did the same and both went to bed you being the big spoon. James was lying on his back now, your head on his chest. You always felt safe in his strong protective arms, you remember the very first-time meeting, James.

James always looked so peaceful sleeping, his chest heaving slowly up and down. This man beside you, weren't just your husband, but best friend too. Your lips were beside his ear nibbling on it, making him giggle "what are you doing?" eyes slowly opening to look at you. A playful look on your face appeared, he could smell your arousal, but he was too tired. At times like this, he would normally let you do what you wanted to him, but you just wanted to appreciate him the way he appreciates you.

[threadbearsweater]

lemonade | rafayel, love and deepspace

you're the neglected wife of a financial mogul, left to your own devices for weeks at a time while your husband is away on business. rafayel is the cute, much younger maintenance man who takes care of your pool. it's been a long time since you've felt the touch of a man, and rafayel is eager to change that.

tags: female reader. age gap- rafayel is in his early 20's, reader is in her late 30's; reader and her husband are financially blessed (they're rich asf); infidelity and the guilt that comes with it; cunnilingus, making out, overstimulation, dacryphilia if you squint. 3.9k words (i don't know what happened)

Your husband comes to bed hours after you retire most nights, and is long gone before you even open your eyes most mornings, leaving only the scent of his aftershave and expensive cologne hanging in your bedroom. He’s always sure to leave a kiss somewhere– on your shoulder, your cheek, your forehead. It’s sweet and tender, sure. He’s sentimental like that in a morbid sort of way; what if it’s the last time he’ll see you, and one of you has to go the rest of your life without the other, knowing that there wasn’t some sort of affectionate exchange when you last saw each other? 

You wish with all your heart that he would wake you to make love. Or that he would– at the very least–  sit down to have dinner with you once in a while before you slide his plate into the microwave and ready yourself for bed. Of course you love him, and you know that he loves you; the lack of intimacy, however, makes you stir crazy, worried, agitated. You knew when you married him that much of your life would be spent without him, but it doesn’t change the fact that you began to feel neglected and forgotten. No amount of money he could spend on you could ever make up for the basic biological need to be touched, to be loved. To feel desired. To know that your husband– the man you promised yourself to so many years ago– wanted you for more than just a sense of security and a pretty face waiting for him to come back home.

This morning was no different from any other. You wake slowly and pull the silk sleep mask from your eyes to find that it’s already past nine. You curse yourself silently for sleeping longer than you intended and slip out of bed to open the blinds. There’s already a sultry summer haze that seems to have settled in, making everything appear out of focus when you look out across the expanse of your property. Nothing moves to indicate that there’s a breeze of any kind at all. You sigh and stretch your arms above your head, deciding that today will be a pool day. 

The pool was dug last spring as an anniversary gift, and your husband spared no expense in creating a little slice of paradise for you to enjoy. You had hoped it meant he would spend a little more time at home with you, but so far he’s only been swimming in it once. You, on the other hand, enjoy it almost daily in the warmer months. Alone, most of the time, excepting the periodic presence of a groundskeeper, your cleaning lady, or the pool maintenance guy. 

You're expecting to be alone today, so after breakfast you choose one of your more revealing swimsuits and a sheer coverup, figuring you’ll work on a nice, sun-kissed glow while enjoying the controlled temperature of the water. You bring a book, some tanning oil, and a few snacks to avoid having to return to the house until you’re sun and chlorine soaked enough to satiate yourself for a little while. The poured concrete patio is already hot, so you tiptoe across barefoot quickly, your steps punctuated by little exclamations (“ooh! ouch! shit!”) as you make your way poolside. The cool water is a balm as you lower yourself in, breathing a sigh of relief before treading out into the middle of the pool.

For a little while you float with your face turned toward the sky. The sun isn’t quite directly overhead, but it’s late enough in the morning that you feel the heat on your skin, the humidity already heavy in the air. You breathe, you relax. You take in the moment, appreciating it for what it is, and vow to make your husband swim with you when he comes home this weekend.

You spend a little time in the water, then a little time reading, snacking, and sunning yourself on a patio lounge chair. It’s peaceful and easy, and since you don’t really have any other plans for the day, you let yourself enjoy the leisure and luxury without worrying about the time. At some point while reading, you drift off to sleep like a cat on a sunbeam, warm and content.

~

“Madam?” 

You blink awake and frown, a little disoriented to see someone else’s face so close to yours– a relatively unfamiliar one, at that. Instinct tells you to push away this person who intrudes upon your personal space, so you shove your palm against his nose and sit up quickly. The culprit yelps in pain, his own hands flying to his face and pushing yours away.

“Hey, what was that for? I was just trying to wake you up so you don’t get overheated out here.” His voice is a bit nasal and hollow sounding from where he has his hands cupped around his nose, but you recognize him immediately once you’re fully awake and coherent.

You apologize profusely. “Rafayel! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was you!” You cover his hands with yours and pull them away from his handsome face, scanning for any damage you might have done. Thankfully, all looks well, except that maybe his nose is a bit red, but that could also be from sun exposure. He rubs it and pouts, almost as if he wants you to believe that you did indeed hurt him. “You don’t usually come on Thursdays. I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here today.”

Rafayel has been taking care of pool maintenance for you since the beginning of this year. Your other maintenance guy was a local university student, and when he graduated and moved on, your husband hired Rafayel to take his place. He’s been a reliable employee so far, hardworking and trustworthy; not to mention, he’s easy on the eyes, and you’d shrivel up with embarrassment if he knew how many mornings you spent admiring him from the kitchen window. 

He gestures toward the enclosure where most of the pool mechanics are hidden. “Needed to change one of the filters I didn’t have with me last time I was here. I was at your neighbor’s house this morning and figured I’d stop here too.” 

“Well thank you.” You rub your eyes and yawn, shielding your eyes as you squint up at the sky. “How long was I out?”

Rafayel shrugs and perches on the side of your lounge chair, resting his elbows on his knees. He wipes a sheen of sweat from his forehead. “Couldn’t say. I’ve only been here for like, ten minutes? And you’ve been asleep the whole time.”

You lean down to grab your cover-up that fell onto the patio at some point during your little cat nap. Rafayel swoops down to grab it first and hands it to you with a cheeky smile. You thank him and slip it over your head; if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you saw a shadow of disappointment pass through his gaze, but it’s gone before you can be sure. 

“Don’t let me keep you from your work,” you tell him, gathering the rest of your things. “I’m sure you have other things to do this afternoon besides save old housewives from heat stroke.” The latter part of your statement is very tongue-in-cheek. You certainly don’t see yourself as old, but you do have a few years on Rafayel.

He scoffs and stands up, offering a hand to you, which you accept. “Please.” He calls you by your married name, and you correct him to use your first name instead. He says it very deliberately then, and you watch the way his mouth forms, his eyes fixed on your face so intently it makes you feel warm down to your chest. “I’ll change the filter and be out of your hair in no time.”

“At least stay and get a drink before you go,” you insist. Rafayel raises an eyebrow. “What do you like? Lemonade? Iced tea?” You’re already stepping backwards toward the house, feeling buoyant, giddy. The way he smiles, the way his pretty eyes shine as he stands there in the sun stirs something almost foreign in your belly. Something you haven’t felt in months– perhaps even years. It’s almost overpowered by a gnawing sense of guilt, but you rationalize it as just a harmless flirtation. Some silly, girlish feelings brought about by the temporary rise of your body temperature from laying in the sun too long. You explain it away in your head, waiting for Rafayel to stop looking at you like he wants to say something other than what he likes to drink.

“Lemonade,” he says slowly, stepping toward you, keenly aware of how the sleeve of your sheer cover-up has fallen off your shoulder. It feels scandalous for him to witness your bare shoulder with nothing but the strap of your bikini between him and the softness that beckons. He’s thankful for the sun that has kissed his cheeks peony pink because it hides the flush he feels when he wonders how you smell. If he could just–

“Great! I’ll get you a glass while you get the filter changed. Shouldn’t take long, right?” You smile brightly at him and retreat as fast as you can into your house, closing the sliding glass door with a shuddering sigh before slumping against the wall to calm yourself. Your heart flutters. An anxious energy seems to bubble up from your throat and you giggle in spite of yourself, covering your mouth as if someone is going to overhear. 

Outside, Rafayel blows out a long, cool breath and goes about the business of changing the pool filter with trembling hands. He doesn’t want to overstep, but he can’t deny the way he feels when you look at him. He thinks it’s a damn shame that your husband works so much and misses out on seeing you every day. Whether you’re lounging by the pool, wrapped up in one of your books, chatting with friends on the phone, or otherwise keeping yourself entertained, he finds you beautiful in ways that put girls his own age to shame. And you’re all alone in this sprawling house with no one to talk to. He’s doing you a favor by showing up unexpectedly. 

The air conditioning kicks on just as Rafayel slides the door open to find you at the kitchen counter, mixing a fresh batch of lemonade. You offer him a seat at the counter. “So you’ve already been to the neighbor’s house?” you ask, trying so hard to come across as though you don’t have a reason for asking. Pure curiosity, that’s all. Polite conversation.

“Yep. I’m free for the rest of the day,” he says with a stretch and a satisfied sort of groan, leaning onto the counter as if he owns the place. He rests his chin in his hands and watches you taste the lemonade, wondering if you know how cute you look when you wrinkle your nose at the tartness. You add a couple more teaspoons of sugar and mix again, meeting his adoring gaze and feeling suddenly shy.

“What are you going to do? Any fun plans?” You taste again, satisfied this time with the sweetness, then pour a glass for Rafayel. As you pass it to him, he reaches for it at the same time. His fingers glide over yours and you gasp. Rafayel looks at you, and something passes between the two of you that feels like a live wire. You draw your hand away quickly– too quickly– and the glass topples over on the counter, lemonade lost.

“Oh!” You scramble for a paper towel, forgetting where you keep them in your panic. Rafayel is quick to help, noticing a roll of them on another stretch of countertop behind you. He grabs them as you’re using your hand as a dam to stop the stream of lemonade from carving a path to the floor. He steps in directly behind you and slaps down a fold of paper towels, and they soak up the mess on the counter immediately.

You know he probably didn’t mean to step so close, but his chest is against your back and his breath tickles the side of your neck. He huffs out a laugh– he sounds just as breathless as you feel, though you chalk it up to panic about the spill more than anything else. 

“Sorry. I’m so clumsy,” you say, silently willing your heart to beat just a little bit slower.

“Nah, you’re okay. Accidents happen.” His voice is so close to your ear you’d swear he was inside your head. He wipes the mess away, then takes your hand, leading you to the sink to rinse it off. He’s tender and deliberate, taking meticulous care to lather the soap so there’s no sticky residue left on your skin.

���Thanks,” you tell him, your face positively on fire. “You should, ah– you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” You reach for a hand towel and dry yourself quickly. 

Rafayel looks offended. “You sure? I’d hate for you to have another accident and there’s no one to help you clean it up,” he teases.

It makes you laugh in spite of yourself. “I’ll be fine,” you insist. “I’m sure you have friends waiting. It’s a beautiful day. Go, take advantage of it.”

Feeling bold, Rafayel steps closer to you again and lifts your chin so that you have to look at him. You’ve never noticed before the depth of color in his eyes– iridescent, incandescent. He is mischievous and devious all at once, and it would take a real idiot to not see what he very clearly has in mind when he steps so close to you that you could count his lashes. He begins to call you by your married name again, but you stop him with a whispered plea. 

So he says your first name– deliberate, slower still than when he said it before. His lips are so close to yours that they touch when he speaks. “May I kiss you?”

Whatever happened in the moments leading up to this one leaves you speechless, searching for the reason that you’re standing here in the middle of your kitchen– the one that you custom designed with your husband, purchased and decorated with his money– kissing the years younger man who maintains your pool. If you try too hard to rationalize it, you’ll never forgive yourself as long as you live.

Oh, his lips are impossibly soft. Silk and gentle heat, breath that tastes faintly of bubble gum, a clever tongue that slips between your lips and over the sharp edges of your teeth while his arm threads around your waist to draw you closer. Your body seems to move of its own volition; you slide a hand across the back of his neck and comb your nails up through his hair, and he moans so unabashedly it almost makes you laugh.

You’re first to break the kiss; breathless, reeling, you weakly paw at his chest, and when you don’t meet his penetrating gaze, he lifts your chin again and speaks so earnestly to you that you wonder if he’s said these words before to some other lonely housewife whose husband also left her alone too often. “This…doesn’t have to mean anything.” He brushes his knuckles across your cheek and you lean into his touch, seeking, cat-like. “Just let me make you feel good.”

You shove the guilt aside. If it’s wrong to feel desired, you don’t want to be right. Not right now. Not with Rafayel kissing along the graceful column of your neck, his hands already wandering underneath your little cover-up to knead the soft, supple curve of your hip and the round of your ass. You let him touch you, and you soak it all in like the desperate, affection deprived woman you are. 

Rafayel is fascinated with you, and you feel it with every slide of his warm skin against yours. He traces a path across your cheek and along your jaw with just the tip of his nose; he blinks, and his eyelashes whisper against you while his fingers fan out across the side of your neck. You grow bold and curious enough to lift the hem of his shirt, sighing into his mouth when your fingers trace the toned contour of his abs, the subtle indentations between ribs when he sucks in a breath at the onset of your touch. He kisses you as if to devour you. You kiss him back with the same fervor, and when he reaches to grab the back of your thighs, you let him lift you. Arms linked around his neck, legs squeezing his waist, he asks you between kisses, where is your room?

Down the hall, you murmur, fingers in his hair, lips on his brow. Second door on the left.

He carries you there, and when he kicks the door shut and lays you out on the bed, he looks at you with a reverence that nearly brings you to tears. With painstakingly slow movements, he peels away each piece of your swimsuit, breathing out in wonder as he studies each curve of your body. “So beautiful,” he whispers, kneeling on the floor in front of where you lie.

A younger version of you would have played coy. Perhaps you wouldn’t have been as confident in how your body appeared to an attractive man who wanted nothing more than to take you apart in the most carnal sense of the word. But as you lie there under his watchful gaze, as you feel his beautiful mouth tracing a path from the arch of your foot to your knee, to your thigh, you know you’re beautiful. You feel beautiful. You feel like a goddess of the highest order. And Rafayel has most certainly helped you feel that way.

So you whisper a thanks that turns into a satisfied sigh when his hands press you open and you feel the tip of his tongue between your folds. Rafayel groans and presses his open mouth to you, his grip on your thighs strong and sure. You link your ankles across his shoulders and bury your hands in the softness of his hair again, making sure that he doesn’t move farther than you want (need) him. 

And like the giver he is, he stays there. Shirtless, his pretty face buried in your cunt, strong hands pressing your legs open to keep you pliant for him. He’s so desperately turned on for you that his hips rut into the side of the mattress. He releases one of your legs to reach down and stroke himself when the need becomes too great.

He’s good with his tongue, even better with the suction of his mouth when he draws your clit between his lips. You ride the waves of your pleasure, kneading the soft flesh of your own tits, lifting your hips to press yourself further into his mouth when he moans for you. It’s been so long since you’ve felt the touch of another that you’d forgotten what it was like. Your toys worked well when the need became too great to bear, but they were nothing compared to this. 

Rafayel pulls back to gaze up at you, chin and lips shining with evidence of you. The loss of him makes you whimper and scoot toward him. “I just wanted to look at you for a minute,” he says with that teasing lilt in his voice that you’ll never quite get used to. “Do you still need me to touch you?” 

You’re not above begging– not in this state. So you ask him, please, to touch you, that you’re almost there, just a little more. He laughs through his nose and slides two fingers inside you, marvelling at the sticky, wet sounds your body makes for him. He curves those fingers once he’s inside and you arch so pretty for him that he thinks he’s going to lose his mind. 

“Mouth, Rafayel. Need– neetd y–” You can hardly form a coherent thought, let alone actual spoken words.

He gets a kick out of that, but keeps those fingers moving, slow and steady, really enjoying the way your body seems to suck him in. “You need my mouth, cutie? Is that what you want to say?”

You nod. Oh, please. Please yes, and he nudges your clit with his nose before sucking it back in his mouth. You cum with lightning intensity, both the penetration and the stimulation entirely overwhelming. Your vision goes white, your breathing ragged and hoarse. Rafayel, like the good samaritan he is, grips your thighs like a vice to keep you open so he can drag his face through the silky softness of your climax, overstimulating you to the precipice of madness. You try in vain to push his head away, but he won’t be moved.

“Need to clean up this mess,” he says. His face glistens with your pleasure, and you think you’ve never seen him more beautiful.

Vaguely aware of a tear that runs down your temple to rest in one of the folds of your ear, you lie back and let him take care of you. The aftershock of your orgasm dies away eventually, though the muscles in your thighs twitch involuntarily until he decides he’s finally satisfied with his work and crawls up to lie beside you. 

Neither of you say a word for a long time. You let him hold you until your heartbeat returns to normal. He rubs your back in long, slow strokes, and you cup his face in your hands, tracing the strong line of his jaw, hsi gentle brow, the delicate fan of his eyelashes. 

“We don’t have to tell anyone,” he says, as if he can read your mind. “You just seemed so lonely today. More than usual, I mean.”

You scoff a little, though you know what he says is obvious. “More than usual? Do I really mope around here that much?”

He shrugs and shifts a little to lie back, pulling your hand across his chest. “I’m only here once a week, but you always look so sad. You were practically begging to be kissed today.”

That makes you laugh, and you give him a playful shove. “You’re one to talk.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about it before?” He quirks a brow and turns his head to look at you.

Busted. “Maybe once or twice. But we can’t–” You sigh. The damage has already been done, if you can call it that. You’re the unfaithful wife. A literal stereotype. There’s no way you can rationalize it to yourself. “We shouldn’t have done this.”

Rafayel hums, tracing his fingertips up and down your arm. “But did you like it?”

You nod before you can overthink it. Your body still pulses with arousal, despite knowing you should be feeling anything but. “I really did.”

“Me too,” he says. “So, if it happens again, is it really so bad?”

You decide that it really isn’t so bad, especially when your husband calls later that evening to tell you he won’t be home this weekend after all. 

[nikalaeva]

It's easier for me to criticize than to praise, but I'll try. And to make it more interesting, I'll compare my favorite fantasy romances with most empty waste of my time.

Your Feyre became High Lady by marriage, devaluing the title of Cursebreaker. She had magic of seven High Lords, but it didn't help at all in most important war, and she has no friends or allies of her own.

My Jude became Queen of Elfheim because the land chose her, saving from death. She outsmarted her father, the most cunning and cruel general, ruled in secret as seneschal, and made advantageous alliances.

Your Rhysand is supposedly the most powerful, surrounded by strongest fighters, his army is the best of all, but he couldn't protect his wife's sisters, fucked up with Book of Breaths and almost lost the war.

My Cardan is a pathetic loser twink, very young and almost always drunk. But he is cunning as hell, saved the woman he loved from underwater captivity, avoiding the war, pal up with her allies while being their prisoner, and created an entire island.

Oh, Jude is still human. And Cardan is a true fairy, not just a guy with pointy ears.

Your Feyre left the man she died for in a fucking message and married her rapist. My Rose went to a strange, faraway country to save her man, but to kill him if she couldn't. Not to turn into a bloodsucking killer to be with him forever - kill him.

Your Rhysand thought for a second that age gap between him and his wife more than between her and their son. My Dimitri was going crazy and pushing away his love because he was her teacher just several years older. He is more responsible than 500+ years old ruler.

Oh, and despite being coolest, Dimitri became a monster. And Rose had an "alternative" - Adrian, who wasn't turned into an abuser and asshole, to show how beautiful love with Dimitri is.

Your Feyre hasn't done a damn thing for women (or anyone), her "feminism" is to be proud of role as a thief, saboteur and half-naked toy of a powerful man. My Vasya Petrovna (I'll die and rip anyone's throat out for her) dresses up as a boy and defends her right to be a witch, challenges ancient monsters, and saves everyone she can with her brains, courage and unbending will.

Your Rhysand chose to die with his mate, leaving his son an orphan, and at 500+ years old he's an infantile sexoholic. My Morozko, the ancient god of death and winter, make a deal with his enemy, a monster of chaos, choosing to be an eternal prisoner without memories about his love, saving woman that he loved as he could.

Whoa, Morozko didn't rape her in order to "protect" her. And it wouldn't be Vasya who would have to change - he would have become a mortal for her. One PG-13 sex scene was hotter than all the sex in ACOTAR series.

Why am I only comparing to Feyre? Well, she's the FMC, three books were enough to show her. I just don't believe Nesta would go to HoW with Cassian, and not decide to die in slums or run away. Elain is so side character that most of discussions about her will be fiction, not canon. Rhysand and Cassian were not even close to any of the men mentioned above. They are not otherwordly, old creatures, not morally gray, but only insulting to women whom they supposedly love more than life.

Romance in ACOTAR is vulgarity, violence and gaslighting, feminism is a mask and illusion, and the characters are too "cool" and therefore boring and flat.

Respect yourself. Read books where authors give a care about the plot, worldbuilding and development of unusual, fairytale love.

[hischeapcigar]

the rock in our throats

Pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x fem reader

Summary: Joel and Y/N face the society reacting to their age-gap. 

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings: MISUNDERSTANDING-TROPE, ANGSSSTTTTT, SMUT SMUT (these are definitely not in order or you’ll be spoiled) MDNI 

a/n: im back with another Joel fic!!!! This is a whole rollercoaster so buckle up!!! Also know that Snow, Lace girls) and Lock (boy) are three of my OCs, I named them after inanimate objects just so they don’t offend anyone with the same name. <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated. 

Feet with their mind of their own carried you downstairs with a speed of light. You had heard Joel’s truck pulled in the driveaway, causing you to abandon the book you were reading to keep your mind from racing about his arrival. 

Just as your feet planted on the floor, your eyes fixed on the door as it slightly pushed open revealing the man you had hopelessly fell for two years ago. He hadn’t acknowledged you as he quietly shut the door. Turning around, the pair of warm brown eyes set on you, when he sees you standing there in your pajamas, adoringly staring at him, his face softens. 

He dropped his bag, a sigh of relief escaping his lips and within a heartbeat you launched yourself at him. Arms flying around his neck as his hands gripped your waist, steadying you. 

“Missed you so much” you mumbled in his neck. He tightened his grip on you at the admission. 

Joel had been to San Antonio for a week to negotiate a contract with a customer.

“Me too, baby,” he whispered, bringing his right hand to stroke your hair

You pulled away as you realized he must be tired, but before you could ask anything, he pulled you into him,

 “Shouldn’t have stayed up, ‘s late” he placed a kiss on your lips that you were quick to deepen. You sighed as he lightly bit your bottom lip. 

“Mmm, couldn’t sleep without knowing you made home safe,” you smiled up at him, “you hungry?” 

He shook his head no, loving the way you treated him like a child and cared for him.

 “Not hungry, back pain ‘s all, wanna sleep” 

You smiled drop as he gently tugged you towards the stairs. Your small hands in his much larger ones. He led you to the bedroom you shared for the past month,

Moving in with Joel after almost two years of hidden relationship was a way to make it official to everyone that you both were together. Though whatever you had anticipated could happen, did happen; continual discussion of your age difference, about him being divorced, about you being naive, about him being a father. 

Given that you both placed a high priority on your relationship, you hadn’t truly heard the gossip by your own ears. However, you had observed the glances that were directed towards you on two separate occasions when you and Joel were present at the mart.

His steps halted in front of Sarah's door, “she was good?” he asked over his shoulders. 

You nodded your head, “Joel she’s not a kid, of course she was alright,”

He pulled you in the bedroom, as you continued, “Plus i think since i moved in, we’ve bonded even more” 

Joel was quick to introduce you and Sarah once you both had confessed the love to each other. And Sarah was quick to welcome you in her life. It was perfect among you three. It was your perfect world. Except that you had to face the world outside your bubble, which was a little too far from perfect. 

 Joel turned around to peck your cheek, “so proud ‘f my girls” 

My girls. You smiled

You were his. You belonged with him. With them. The fact still released butterflies in your stomach. 

Joel took off his shirt and winced. Your facial expression displayed a distortion of worry which Joel was quick to observe, “back’s hurtin’ is all, don't worry,'' he smiled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, pulling your forehead close to his lips to place a chaste kiss. 

“We need to get some gel, Joel” you reminded him

-

This is how you found yourself standing in the mart, in front of the shelf with gels. You had dropped Sarah school before heading here. Joel was asleep when you both left. Sarah wanted to meet her dad but you suggested that she lets him get enough sleep and meet him when she returns from school, to which she happily agreed.

Skimming your eyes through the rack, you found the one you were looking for, Voltarol. You grabbed one and walked toward the counter. You picked a few snacks on the way there. 

“y/n?” you heard a lady call your name

Turning around, you met none other than the most gossipy woman of the town, Nancy. 

“Hi!” you put on your best fake smile to greet her

“Whatcha got there?” she asked, eyes already prying your arms. You could have taken a basket but snacks weren’t planned. 

“Oh, just snacks” you shrugged, you kept your answer short, avoiding the long conversation

“And, what’s that? A gel?” she asked earning a groan from you, 

“Yeah, Joel’s got a back pain so i figured-”

“Of course!” she exclaimed startling you

Looking at your furrowed brows, your confused stance she continued, “I mean,” she sang, “Joel’s old. Don’t you think you’re too young to settle for that old man and tend to his back pain?” 

Your heart sank at her words, and more at the amount of venom that dripped from that single sentence alone. 

“Don’t you think you’re a little too nosy in others’ decisions?” you spat as you moved to the side, 

“Jeez, relax! You’re turning into an old grumpy woman. Maybe something about the company-” 

You left before she could say more. The longer you stood, she would’ve fed you with her sick mindset. 

Of course Joel was old. But that never lessened the love you had for him. You had been with guys around your age and all you ended up with was a broken heart and then came Joel, treating you like a real gentleman would.

You both took sufficient time to make a decision about living together. Your relationship being a secret never attracted comments but once the news spread through the town about you and Joel living together, every other mouth was murmuring about you both. 

Staying in most of the time had its perks; you never found out about all the gossip. But it could only last so long. 

You paid the cashier before hurrying to your car. Settling in, you took a  few deep breaths. 

She’s just being mean. I won't let her ruin my day. Her words don’t mean anything. Joel and I love each other, that's what matters the most. 

As soon as you closed the door, entering the house, you were met with silence. Joel‘s still asleep. 

Placing the snacks on the counter you climbed the stairs, a gel in your hand, and a planned massage for him in your head. You opened the door to see Joel lying on his stomach. With his moments you could tell he had woken up and then his voice sounded, 

“Where’d ya go?” eyes closed, he muttered, his voice hoarse. You crossed bed to stand on his side, 

“Dropped Sarah, and picked this” you grinned, showing him the gel 

He squinted his eyes to read the label, “darlin’ you didn’t have to” he turned around to lay on his back. 

“Of course, I had to!” you tapped his legs, urging him to sit up. He obliged without any protest and god did you love it when he was submissive to you, knowing the outside world would never see this soft Joel. 

“Still hurtin’? You asked as you noticed a slightest distress in his face as he sat up

“A little” he grunted

You tugged at his shirt, “off” you demanded 

“You don’t have to-” he looked up at you as he rubbed his eyes

“I know, Joel. I want to” you softly cut his sentence 

He layed back on his stomach again as you straddled his legs. Just having him naked except for sleeping boxers, totally submitting to you, sent a tingle down your core. But you ignored it. Your only focus was to make Joel feel better. 

You squirted some gel on your palm, setting the tube on the side, 

“I’ve never done this before,” you warned him,

“Neither have I, honey,” his muffled voice giving rise to a small giggle leaving your lips

You carefully splayed your hands on his lower back as you spread the gel. the delicious combination of the hotness of his skin mixed with the coolness of the gel stirred something in your stomach, 

Focus. Focus. Focus 

You pressed your fingers in his muscles, feeling the knots. He moaned at the relief. 

“Felt so good,” he muttered, 

You continued massaging his back, digging your fingers wherever you felt the stress. Taking notes of and following what brought him pleasure, you moved your small hands through his back and shoulders. Occasionally scratching his back with your nails and pulling the sounds of pleasure from his throat. 

All the sounds he made did not help, but only worsened the condition between your legs. You felt giddy, knowing you made him feel this good. 

You only prayed that the wetness between your legs didn’t seep through your thin pajamas and on his skin. Because this was about him and him only. Completely oblivious of Joel's situation underneath you, that after a few digs and dips of your fingers he started getting hard and by this time he was rock hard. 

“Baby” he breathed, “st-stop” he started to move, his cock taking control of his brain, 

You were startled, immediately getting off of his legs, “did- did i do something wrong?” you asked innocently,

He laid on his back as he stared at the ceiling, his breaths heavy “no darlin’, you did a good job, ‘s jus’-” he huffed as he took your hand and placed it on his member

Your mouth hung open as you felt his cock through his boxers, your mouth salivating just at the imagination,

He looked at you, waiting for you to say something, 

“Good thing I know how to take care of that too,” you smirked as you moved to hook your fingers on the waistband of his boxers as you slowly, teasingly, slid them down, closely watching his reaction change.

“That’s my gir- mmph”

 As soon as his cock sprang free from its confines your gaze immediately left Joel’s. 

His angry reddened tip, decorated with beads of his precum stood hard. You wasted no second in stradling his laps. Your petite fingers wrapped around his member, thumbing on his tip; spreading his leak through the length. You pushed your hair to one shoulder as you bent forward, maintaining eye contact with Joel’s hooded eyes, you kissed the tip, earning a strangled moan. 

You smirked, loving the effect you had on him. His eyes begged for more. You hollowed your mouth, taking his length in your mouth. Your fingers toying with his base. The taste of him was the first taste of your day. His hand made its way to your hair, guiding your mouth; in and out.

“Jus’ like that, baby” he praised 

 He grunted when you twirl your tongue around him, his cock twitching letting you know he’s close. 

“Such a good girl, f’ me,” you watched his eyes closed as he bucked his hips in your mouth, losing himself in the pleasure. 

You quickly removed your mouth, saliva spilling from the sides of your lips, 

“Eyes on me,” you demanded and god did that turn him on 

“Y-yes mami, please continue” he struggled to keep his eyes open, with your plush lips wrapped around his thick cock. 

He guided his cock to your throat causing you to gag. He smirked, repeating the action until tears spilled from your eyes. He used his free hand, gently wiping the tears. 

Perfect combination of rough and soft

You were soaking wet at this point, his dick in your mouth, hand fisted in your hair, and his sinful moans and grunts in your ears. 

He guided your head away, as he manhandled you and in a split second your positions were switched. You gasped as your head hit the soft pillow while Joel towered over you, on his knees. 

“That…was impressive” you breathed as Joel connected your lips in a feverish kiss.

“I’ve still got some strength y’know,” he mumbled as he pulled away slightly before he captured your lips again. It was nothing soft and slow but all teeth and tongue fighting for dominance. 

You would've just giggled at his response but instead you felt a pang of hurt in your chest, 

Joel’s old. Her voice rang in your ears as you blinked your eyes to focus in the moment

Joel grumbled tasting himself on you. Too lost in the kiss you missed when his hands slipped to your sides, pulling down your pajamas and panties in one swift motion. 

You broke the kiss, “Joel” you took a deep breath, his eyes finding yours, waiting for your command, “fuck me wreckless” 

His smirk grew at the command, “yes, m’lady” 

His fingers found your cunt in an instant. You moaned at the contact of his calloused fingers with your aching center. 

He circled your clit a few times before plunging his middle finger knuckles deep without a warning, 

You screamed, “of fuck, Joel-” 

“M gonna wreck you, darlin” he grunted as he drove his finger in and out while his thumb pressed on your pussy, making you squirm, 

“Nngh feels so good” you moaned, 

“So needy, huh?” his eyes glued to throbbing pussy and the juices it squirted, 

He added another finger, building the pressure and maintaining the pace. You felt the knot in your stomach tightened. 

“Close, mmh Joel, i'm close” you struggled to speak, your knuckles turning white as your gripped the sheets beneath you

You arched into his touch, your legs started to tremble as you felt the climax reach. He used his strong free arm across your stomach to keep you in place as he assaulted your cunt. 

“Cum for me, darlin” 

And you did, right then and there. You closed your eyes as you screamed his name like a prayer,

“Look at me” he ordered and you blinked away the tears that had formed in your eyes to obey him, 

He held your gaze as he lowered his mouth and lapped the juices you had released. He devoured it as the first meal of the day,

“Taste so good,” he mumbled more to himself

He drank every drop until you finished. Your chest heaved as he climbed on top of you and connected your lips,

You both moaned in unison as you tasted yourself on his lips, 

“Ready?” he asked as he guided his cock to your entrance

You nodded your head, 

“Words” he spat

“Yes, yes Joel, I'm ready!” you whined, 

And he slipped in, inch by inch until he was balls deep. 

He had fucked you countless times but his size always surprised you and your pussy always hugged him like the first time. 

“So fuckin- tight, this pussy,” he grunted as you adjusted to the size

“Move” you croaked and he obliged, setting a slow and steady pace, 

“My pussy,” thrust “mine to ruin” thrust, harder, “mine to love,” thrust, harder and faster, 

Your walls clenched around him at the words, at the possession, 

He had picked up the pace, fucking into you relentlessly. It wasn’t usual he fucked you this hard but you asked for it, and you were glad.

“So thick” you breathed

He sat on his knees as he wrapped your legs around his waist, holding you there, pounding into you through a different angle, brushing your g-spot everytime. 

“Right there, yes” you bit your bottom lip, 

“Don’t hold back, darlin’ let me hear you” his pace was unbelievable, you felt nothing but him. The coil tightened in your stomach, it was embarrassing how quickly he was pulling another orgasm out of you, splitting you in half,

“Joel, can i cum–” 

“Not yet darlin” he stuttered

The feeling was a lot, you tried your best to hold back. The feeling of his cockstretching your walls, his balls tingling your inner thigh in every thrust. Your thighs twitched, as he held them tightly around him, 

“Joel, please-” you begged, 

His thrusts started to become sloppier, his cock twitched inside you and he nodded, 

“C’mon baby, milk my cock,” he urged

That made you trip from the edge and you came, harder. Your mouth forming incoherent words between his name

He never stopped his movement throughout your high, only when you were done did he spill his seeds, covering your insides with his release. 

He let go of your legs as he collapsed over you, making sure to shift his weight to his elbows

He looked ethereal, post sex suited him so well. His skin glowing with sweat and morning light. His brown curls were a mess. He placed a lazy kiss on your forehead, then lips, “you ‘kay?” he whispered

You nodded, too blissed out to reply verbally. Too much in awe of his soft, sweet side. 

He pulled his cock out and you both winced. He pecked your overstimulated cunt once causing you to shiver before he left for a cloth. 

He cleaned both of you, murmuring praises on your skin as he wiped your legs. 

“Wrecked ya, huh?” he said as he observed your fucked out state, 

You hummed in response, “forgot you even had a back pain” 

“What back pain?” he feigned confusion as he tossed away the cloth, causing you to giggle 

You knew you couldn’t share your encounter with Nancy at the mart, you knew he was already silently insecure about the age gap.

-

Joel was quick to return to work after his trip to San Antonio. He headed to a bar with Tommy before returning home. The brothers conversed about a deal that Joel had made.

“Hey, there’s Frank, wanna come?” Tommy said, looking over Joel’s shoulder. 

Joel turned his face to see Frank talking to a woman before bringing his attention back to his neat whiskey,

“No, ‘m a’right here” He grumbled, watching Tommy leave from his peripheral vision

He downed his half empty cup before he ordered another. He zoned out looking at his whiskey, his fingers tracing the rim of the glass. 

A low grunt beside him caught his attention, turning his face and he was met with Arthur ordering his liquor. 

Joel returned his gaze to his whiskey and taking a sip, 

“Howdy, Joel? How was San Antonio?” Arthur asked

“Was fine, made a deal” Joel replied, already wanting an out from his company. His head is already cloudy from drinking.

“And how’s ya little thing doing?” Arthur leaned, instantly causing Joel to lean away. He wasn’t sure he heard it right

“What?” Joel barked,

“Ya know,” Arthur swung his wrist gripping the glass of whatever he ordered, he shrugged, “that sweet little y/n-” 

“Watch your mouth” Joel growled

“All i’m saying is she’s too young, deserves someone who can actually take care ‘f her” if Arthur was any sober he would’ve shut up after Joel’s first warning, but he just mindlessly continued,

Joel’s bore a hole on the side of his head with his intense gaze, his grip tightening on the glass as he watched Arthur speak, “jus’ feel bad for her, stuck with you–” 

Joel gathered Arthur’s collar in his hand,

POW!

Joel’s fist collided with Arthur’s jaw in a swift motion. 

-

“- and when i told Chris about it, he was equally appalled and said, no offense” Lace lightly held your arm before quoting her boyfriend, “it’s a phase for you and that you’d get over Joel, either way its- ” you gaze shifted to Snow who stood beside Lace, offering you an apologetic smile,

Snow and Lace were your best friends since school. Snow never judged you for your relationship with Joel. Lace, on the other hand, did not always agree with your choices even if she did love you. 

“Lace,” you began, cutting her rambles, “i’m happy, isn’t that enough?” you sighed, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes. 

The three of you were at Millie’s, one of your mutual friends, birthday party. It was your first public appearance after moving in with Joel. you were too scared to join but Lace and Snow were adamant about you joining them. 

Few of the girls asked you weird questions but thanks to your two friends who cornered you to avoid more conversations. 

Lace was quick to notice your eyes, as she took your hand, “of course! but-” 

“No ‘but’s, we’re done. I think I should head home, it’s pretty late,” Snow announced, your gaze darted to the clock, 11:45 stared back at you.

“Yeah, i’m leaving too-” 

“y/n?” it was, Auburn, one of Millie’s friend who you met twice at parties, you knew she cheated on multiple boys just because she thought she was too good for them, “wh- are you guys leaving already?” Auburn looked around the three of you,

“Yeah, can’t stay out late, y’know” Snow carelessly answered as she fished something from her bag, leaving the kitchen

“And let me guess, y/n, you have to go home to your old man?” Auburn directed at you

“Well, at least I have someone to go home to,” you knew it was a cruel jab, but you didn’t care at the moment. 

She gasped, clearly taken aback, “Wow, the old man-” 

“It’s Joel” you interrupted, to which she only rolled her eyes before continuing, 

“Yeah, poor Joel, i mean, having to deal with you every single day, God, i’d be damned” 

Before you could reply, Lock showed up at the kitchen door, “hey, I was leaving, ya need a ride? Snow’s in the car” He was one of your close friends. 

Lock got a nod from you before you pointed at Auburn, “Maybe you need to grow up,” you muttered, already heading out of the kitchen before you heard her voice, “don’t go falling in love, it’s all about good fuck-” you shut the door behind you,

You quickly got into Lock's car, not bothering to bid anyone goodbye. Your vision was glossy, you held back your tears through the small distance to your house, 

It was around 12 when you stepped in the house, the television was on in the living room. You peeked to see sarah on the couch,

“Sarah, what are you doing up?” your voice was harsher than intended, 

She jumped and you almost felt guilty for the way you scared her, 

“You’ve got school tomorrow, go to bed. Now.” you scolded watching her turn off the tv as she muttered a small ‘sorry’ heading upstairs. 

Joel still wasn’t home. And as an unspoken rule, you didn’t want to go to bed without him, like he doesn’t without you. 

You removed your earrings, placing them on the table before you slumped on the couch,

The voices in your head growing, 

Is this wrong? 

Why can’t they keep their noses out of my relationship decisions?

Does Joel feel that I'm way too young for him? 

Is he embarrassed too?

 The longer Joel took to come home, the louder the voices became, 

Does Sarah get questioned about me and Joel?

Does Sarah still like me?

Does Joel still-

You heard the door unlock and you brought yourself up. Joel stumbled in, you knew he had a few drinks. Quickly you got up to hug him and to have him silence the noises in your head, 

Too disappointed about your night, you didn’t notice the bandage on his knuckles, or the sour expressions he wore, as you moved your body to hug him, 

His figure stiffened against you. His hands coming up to your arm as you shuddered under his touch, 

“What’s wrong?” he muttered as he stroked your hair, putting aside his pain to try and heal yours.

You shook your head, not wanting to feed his insecurity, “party was a bit exhausting” you lied

“C’mon baby,” as he moved you both toward the couch, “ya wanna talk about it?” 

You straddled his lap burying your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent of whiskey and cigarettes 

His hands traced your back softly and you whimpered, you loved Joel so much. 

You picked your head up to face Joel. He looked tired. Nevertheless, one of his hands cupped your face and instinctively, you placed a kiss on the inside of his wrist before intertwining your fingers with his, and that's when you felt the skin of bandage under your fingertips, 

“What happened?” it was your turn to be concerned

He stayed quiet for a beat, both of you looking in between you, your intertwined hands but feeling miles away emotionally,

“Just a random cut, nothing serious” and it was his turn to lie,

That was the turning point of your relationship. 

“C’mon let's go to bed,” Joel suggested,

-

The next few weeks went by the same. Everywhere you went, they talked shit. Sometimes you defended but other times you were tired of talking back knowing they won’t stop either way. 

You noticed how Lace kept pushing Lock to you. Always calling him over when you had plans with her and then leaving quickly so you and Lock can spend some time alone. He was a nice guy, but you only saw him as a friend, nothing more, nothing less. And Joel knew it too. 

But oh when he kept getting “with Lock” as your response to his “where ya at”, did he start to feel otherwise. Almost everyday at work he was defending his relationship with you, and after knowing you’re with Lock most of the time, he started believing the criticisms. 

“Things alright between you two?” Tommy carefully asked Joel one day,

“Yeah, why?” Joel didn’t remove his gaze from the contract paper in his hand,

Tommy shrugged, “i don’t know, been seeing her with that Lock guy a lot these days so–”

“Look good together, don’t they?” another man chirped in, but as soon as he received a deathly glare from Joel he backed off immediately. But the words stuck with joel, look good together

That night when you clung to him, like you always do, he didn't reciprocate. The voices in his head were getting loud and you weren’t there to silence them. 

-

“Where?” he snarled 

It was just another rough night for the two of you. Joel had canceled plans with you because work buddies are insisting on game night , delaying it to the next week. Both of the times Lace and Snow had swung by. With Lace reciting her “you deserve better” mantra. 

Earlier this week, Snow had asked you to go shopping for her vacation. And you couldn’t say no, given she had dropped her things just because you were depressed when Joel canceled the plans for the second time. 

If he could, why couldn’t you?

“Shopping” you put another popcorn in your mouth as your eyes fixed on the movie. 

You were upset. You were mad at him. And the whole week had passed without Joel noticing it. Maybe it was about time. 

You felt his eyes on the back of your head. You wanted nothing more than to turn around and make up for the lost time. Clear all the distance that had somehow forged its way between two of you. 

But you didn’t. You resisted. You wanted to check your and  his limits

“Of course, and Lock is gonna be there” Joel scoffed, placing his hands on his hips where he stood at the back of the sofa you sat on. 

That hit the button instead. You exhaled a shallow breath, not believing your ears, 

“What is that supposed to mean?” you turned to face him, his typical annoyed stance in display for you; fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You know very well,” his eyes met yours for a brief second, before he moved to exit

To say you were furious was an understatement. You abandoned your popcorns and movie as you scurried away to chase him,

He faced the cabinets before he heard your angry stomping in the kitchen. 

“What the fuck, Joel?” you barked

He just stood there, leaning against the counter. His arms folded against his chest as he glared back at you,

Frustration bubbled inside of you. Taking a step closer, you let the anger get the best of you, 

“You fucking canceled on me for sake of your buddies,” you were fuming, “you didn’t even notice me being upset” you voice rose with every sentence, “and now you’re accusing me?!” 

“Lower your fucking voice!” he roared causing you to shudder, 

“You’re unbelievable, Miller” you back stepped to the door of the kitchen before you left 

As soon as you stepped out of kitchen you spotted Sarah sitting on the sofa hugging her legs,

“You guys are fighting again?” she mumbled

Your heart shattered at her state. You were quick to sit by her side, engulfing her in your arms, 

“Oh no, honey,” you kissed her hair, “it’s just- you know- we don’t always agree on the things” you caressed her hair

She sniffled, facing you, “so- so you’re not leaving, right?” her wet eyes shining with hope and that was not helping to your breaking heart, 

Your throat tightened so you stuck with shaking your head ‘no’ and a tight smile

Few minutes had passed and Sarah was already asleep on your shoulder. You calmly woke her so she doesn’t hurt her neck in that position. Tucking her in the bed, you closed her door and were met with Joel.

He stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He jerked his head in the direction of your shared bedroom, asking you to join him, and so you did. 

Once the door closed, he turned to you, grasping your small hands in his, 

“I’m sorry” he croaked, “for everything,” 

You looked up at him and gave him a sincere smile as you nodded, “let’s go to sleep,” 

None of you talked about your feelings. None of you shared about the insecurities that you both had regarding each other. None of you reached out for the other to cuddle. 

-

“I’ll wait outside, you can grab whatever you need, yeah?” Joel said as he digged his wallet for his card 

You only nodded as taking the card and hopping out of his truck, rushing into the mart. 

Joel lit a cigarette as he watched you from the driving seat. He knew this was all wrong. It was a lose-lose situation. He couldn’t be with you openly, scared of more rude comments towards you (he could manage the ones thrown at him) but still everyone was aware of your relationship and hence, bringing up the topic out of nowhere.

You, on the other hand, were embarrassed, feeling Joel didn’t want to be seen with you. You both had moved past the point of discussing your feelings and knee-deep in the mess

Once you returned, Joel tried to reach for your hand but you were quick to pull away. It was like a reflex and you almost regretted it. Almost. 

He cleared his throat in an awkward way, “uh- you’re still up for Bill and Frank’s party tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, but I’ll go there with,” you swallowed, too hard to push the words out of your mouth, “with Lace,” 

Joel took a double look at you, “uh, any specific reason?” he asked trying his best to stay calm,

“Yeah, she wanted me there to help her with outfits and make up so i might as well leave with her,” you shrugged, nervously tugging on your nails.

“Okay,” he said lowly, almost as a whisper,

-

“Don’t make dinner tonight” Joel said a few hours after you both had got home, 

“Why? Are you with your boys tonight?” No matter how much you tried to keep the anger at bay, somehow it slipped, 

Joel sighed, as he walked to you, his eyes trained on you. But your gaze couldn't meet his. As if you were hiding something, like you were not honest, except that you were. You were just fed up with your fights with Joel. Fed up with not sharing thoughts like you used to. 

“No, I'll get take-out on my way back,” he said. Your brows furrowed, “We’ll just relax and maybe watch a movie, your choice. How does that sound?” he explained his plans for the night, 

You nodded, “okay, sounds good, but can we maybe dine out? There’s this pretty place-” 

“Baby, I really want just the two of us, we can go next time, ‘kay?” he pressed his lips on your forehead, 

You gave him a tight smile, “sure” 

All you wanted was for him to love you openly. All he wanted was to keep you from any and every hurt even if it meant he had to avoid being seen together. If only you both spoke your feelings. 

-

“Honestly, I think he’s not opening up to you because you won’t get it since you’re young, y’know?” Lace said as she fixed her dress, “Do you really think you’re the best match for him? Woman his age are dying to marry him,” 

You tried to stop another flood of tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Your eyes were already swollen from the crying you had today at Lace’s because you were watching your relationship with Joel fall apart. It was all perfect when the world didn’t know. The bubble had bursted.

“You’re right,” you sighed,

-

Joel didn’t really prepare for his appearance as much as he did for the looks thrown his way when he moved with you. You and him didn’t know how to handle the criticisms and that had your relationship at stake. 

He arrived at bill and frank’s and eagerly started to look for you. But you were nowhere to be found. He had texted you but there was no response from you. Were you even coming?

He met with his friends and like a habit, everyone asked about you. 

He stepped on the front porch, desperately escaping from endless questions and trying to muster up excuses of your absence. Two shots in, he felt his brother hand on his shoulder, “heartbreak?” Tommy asked as he sipped his whiskey, 

Joel only grunted in response, not really paying attention to his question, “so when did it happen?” 

That had his attention, “what?” 

“The breakup and that” Joel followed Tommy’s gaze. 

You had just gotten out of the car and stumbled your way inside. Lock’ hand pressed to your lower back as he guided you inside the house. Lace quickly trailing behind you both, struggling with her own dress. 

Joel’s lips parted in shock. How could you do this? What was happening? The liquor had started to dizzy his mind. 

The look on Joel’s face was enough to let Tommy know that he was oblivious to the situation just like him. 

“There’s someone I'd like you to meet,” Tommy said carefully, and convincingly.

Joel eyes took a few seconds before moving from the door from where you had just entered the house, 

He just nodded in response, before he chugged the entire bottle in one go. 

He was mad. He was disappointed. He was angry. But most importantly, he was hurt. But one thing about him, he was a hard person to go and confront. Why would he do that when he can do things he won’t remember the next morning? 

The last sober thought was you. Then the rest was alcohol in his veins controlling his mind.

—-----

You left Lace’s apartment as you hurried to Lock' car. 

“Hi, Lace is coming, told me to go,” you said as you greeted him, 

Lace took solid 10 minutes before she appeared on the entrance door of the building. Those 10 minutes you listened to Lock talking about some girl he’s madly in love with and will ask her out tomorrow. She was a friend of your friend, she was nice. You were genuinely happy for him. 

You were on your way when you checked your phone. You didn’t realize you had missed a text from Joel. You swiped to reply to him, telling him you were on your way. But Lace snatched the phone from you, 

“Enough using phone for tonight,” she grinned 

You instinctively chased her hand and turned to the backseat. Unknown to you, your dress had stuck in the door. 

Rip. 

You heard and felt your fabric tearing from your back. With your shocked expression, Lace was concerned, 

“I think I ripped my dress from the back,” you said slowly, reaching your hand on your back and you felt your skin. “Oh my god, I just ripped my dress!” you cried,

“Is it something a needle and thread can fix?” Lock asked as he tried to calm the chaos you both had created, 

Lace inspected the ripped part, “i think so, i can do it but where do we get the needle and thread?” 

“Frank has it,” Lock informed, 

Your face was contorted in worry, your phone long forgotten, 

“Okay, Lock you cover her way up to the restroom, I’ll go get the things I need from Frank,” Lace ordered as you all got off the vehicle. 

And so you all rushed in. Your mind was directed to; will Lace be able to fix my dress? 

You didn’t greet anyone as you bolted toward the restroom. Lock stayed outside as you rushed inside. Lace quickly returned and fixed your dress. 

“And all done!” she said excitedly

You turned your neck to the mirror to see that indeed she had done a good job. 

Leaving the bathroom, you parted ways with Lace and Lock as you went out looking for Joel. 

“Hey! Have you seen Joel?” you asked Bill,

“Why yes, he’s finally got some sense back,” he tilted his glass in Joel’s direction, 

There stood Joel, no, there swayed Joel in the arms of a stranger. Joel’s arms linked loosely around her as her’s around his neck, pulling him closer, 

“perfect match,” Bill added, 

Your lips parted to say something but no words came out, “wh-” you began but were immediately cut by Bill as he clicked his tongue and shook his head, 

“Don’t go ruining a good thing now, kid,” 

You couldn't avert your gaze from the scene in front of you until it was blurred by your tears. 

“Excuse me” your voice shook, as you turned away, tears spilling as you ran to the restroom again. 

How bad you wished you didn’t leave the restroom, or that you left a little later until he detached himself from her. 

Did he really fall out of love? Did he really let them dictate him? You wanted to go and confront but-

You broke down. Bad. 

You didn’t mind your makeup, that you put on with precision, smudging. Your knees hit the bathroom floor as you cried your eyes out. 

The ringing of the phone caused you to take a break. Taking out the phone more tears fell from your eyes as Joel’s name displayed on your screen. 

The ringing ceased and a text followed a few minutes later, 

Joel: Where are you? 

You scoffed at his text. You wanted to go to him and scream at him. But you didn't want to give in to all the people who told you this was never gonna work. Sure your relationship had gone down the hill since last month. But was ending the relationship really better than running in a circle every other day? Loving Joel only in the boundaries of your house? 

You wanted to go home, Joel’s house, and move out. This wasn’t going to work. You had decided. The thought of officially ending the relationship pulled new strings of tears from your eyes as you texted Lace about going home before you stuffed the phone in your purse. 

Just like you had entered, keeping your gaze lowered, you left the exact same way. You heard the unmistaken sound of a voice calling your name but you couldn’t stop and turn. No, you kept moving. 

You exited the main gate and walked on the side of the street. You were walking quickly, wanting to go away from him as fast as possible. You heard the familiar voice called you again, 

“What is it, Joel?” you seethed as you turned around. 

You looked horrible, you knew it but you couldn’t care less right now. 

Joel eyes widened at your appearance, 

“Jus’ wanted to ask, how long have you been with Lock?” he whispered as if even he was ashamed of asking the question. He looked down, prepared for any answer that you had to offer

Your heart dropped at his question, “what?” oh how bad you hoped you heard it wrong, 

“Ya heard it,” he muttered, “i saw you both, ‘s okay, i understa-” 

Before he could complete his sentence, you had walked up to him, staring deep in his eyes, “are you fucking kidding me right now?” your voice was low but hid a menace beneath it, 

Joel stayed quiet, he looked at you but his eyes were empty. 

“Are you serious, Joel?” your voice shook, all of your power was used up at keeping your tears from falling, 

“How about you tell me about you dancing in someone else’s arms?” your voice rose and you pushed him back, “was that what you've been doing in my absence?!” you hit his chest, “tell me!” your voice wavered and once again the dam broke, “tell me Joel!” 

The sides of your fist kept colliding with Joel’s hard chest as you let everything out, “tell me why were you so embarrassed of me? Of us?” joel stayed silent as he received your weak punches and watched the tears stain your face

“Tell me where did we go wrong?” you energy had drained before you slowly uttered the last question

“When did you stop loving me?” that was his last straw, as he held your wrist just as you were pulling away, 

“Don’t” he said firmly, “anything but that” 

“We’ve fallen apart,” you croaked, “Gonna take a miracle to save us this time-” 

“I still love you,” he promised

You shook your head as your released your hands from his grip,

“Then tell me why didn’t I feel loved?” you whispered 

Joel once again fell silent, “I-” he shook his head, wanting to wake up from the worst nightmare,

His throat tightened, he wanted to tell you that he wanted to protect you. But your outburst told him the only way you would’ve felt protected was if he held your hand in front of everyone. 

He began, not knowing what to say but his mind screamed one thing, 

Don't say goodbye, don't say goodbye

You wiped the tears from your face as you took a deep breath, 

“Goodbye, Joel” 

You turned and walked away as Joel stood still. The wind blew cold against his skin. 

Did he throw away the best part of his life? 

It’s alright, Just two hearts breakin’ even tonight

You’d go and get on with your life, he’ll get on with his’, broken hearts can’t call the cops, it’s a perfect crime.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

[simpxxstan]

best friend's older brother vernon

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the members' headcanons in the event too as i post them through this month!

warnings: mention of cheating (not vernon or reader)

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who is two years older to you, but doesn't feel older at all

he may have lived in the world for two years more than you or your best friend, but you don't see where the years except the fact that he's taller than you

it's clear that vernon needs someone to take care of him. someone to show him which stop to get off at on the subway. someone who feeds him snacks when he's skipped lunch because he was too busy riding his bicycle. someone to push his hair back and make him wear a beanie when he's long due for a haircut. someone to remind him to take a certain book to class because he's bound to forget.

and mindlessly, unconsciously, you've taken up that role. of course, his sister and his family members are there, but you get involved too. partly because you spend so much time with his sister, but also because you like doing this. somehow, seven-year-old you felt very grown up taking care of a boy, so you go with the flow, and even after eleven years, the habits have stuck.

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who introduces you to his relatives as his 'girlfriend'

ten year old vernon learnt the day before that a girlfriend is a female friend you want to marry. hence, he finds no problem in introducing you to everyone as his girlfriend. consequently, he absolutely does not understand why you smack him on the back and go all red and pouty, and everyone in the room begins laughing at him. he didn't say anything wrong, did he?

"why do you want to marry her, vernon-ah?" his mother asks him later. "because she's the nicest girl i've ever met. and she knows everything about me, and i know everything about her." his mother laughs, "that is quite true. well, you can't go about calling anyone your girlfriend, okay? it's only something you can do later, when you're older, and the girl also agrees to being your girlfriend." "why can't i do it now if y/n agrees to it?" "because that's how it is, nonie."

vernon doesn't understand why it is like that, but he lets that occasion. it doesn't mean that the joke doesn't persist. and even at the age of twenty, when you meet his relatives at his birthday party, they all call you his girlfriend.

of course, vernon understands what it really means now, and he also realises his mistake back then. even you don't mind the joke anymore, and just go with it. but it's wrong- he should correct everyone and put an end to it. and yet, he doesn't. does he, maybe, like people referring to you as his girlfriend?

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who grows up to be a fine specimen of the male sex

and you, along with everyone else in the neighbourhood, are awed by his curly hair and chiselled features. he doesn't let everyone get close to him, owing to his shy nature, but you're fortunate enough to still remain in his closest circle, even after he graduates from school and joins a music production course in college. the age gap between the two of you feels lesser and lesser as you both grow up.

when you join the same college as him, he becomes your guardian angel in college. from giving you tours in the college to getting you involved with societies and the joys of dorm life, the two of you are again always together. except, his sister enrolled in a different university so unfortunately, you have to bear a long-distance friendship now. it is a comfort, still, that vernon is right here.

the roles are slightly reversed now. although vernon's still lost in daily life- losing track of time and place often and hoping for your guidance- he takes a more proactive role in supporting you in other, important matters.

like how he drives you to the interview of your first internship. you leave the office crying, and he pulls you into a hug. two weeks later, when you receive an acceptance offer letter, he hugs you close again. "i had said so," he tells you when he buys you ice cream as a treat.

like how he ensures you get in touch with the top seniors from your major so that you can prepare your notes well. "how do you even know him?" you ask him after he introduces you to one such senior. "oh, i see him around." "is he your friend?" "no, but he's not not my friend either."

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who also sees you fall in love for the first time in college

it's with a senior he introduced you to, youngjae, and he regrets the decision completely. he had introduced you to him because of his academic merit, but beyond that, he knew youngjae was up to no good. a playboy through and through- he would break your heart the second the chase dies out.

he ends up spending lesser and lesser time with you these days because of how you go everywhere with your new crush now. "has he asked you out yet?" vernon raises a brow at you when the two of you meet again in front of the dorms. "not yet," the blush is clear on your cheeks, as your eyes lit up. "but i'm sure youngjae will, soon! we've been texting a lot, nonie. i must thank you for introducing him to me, of course." you giggle, but vernon's face doesn't reflect your happiness. he's still confused about how to feel about this entire affair.

rationally, he should not be confused. this is protectiveness he feels. he felt the same way towards his sister when she started dating her current partner. it's worse in this case because he knows your heart will be broken. so it's just his instinct that's making him more protective.

but it's not just protectiveness, he knows. he knows it when you're going to parties with youngjae on your arm. he knows it when you laugh too loudly at any of youngjae's stupid jokes. he knows it when people start referring to you as youngjae's girlfriend.

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who is the person you run to when you find out that youngjae has been sleeping with someone else all this time

vernon doesn't ask or say anything. he simply sighs when he sees the tears streaming down your face, and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug against his chest. and he lets you cry into his sweater, all snot and wetness.

but it's the best thing he could do for you, and you wouldn't trade this for anything else. you know he understands in the silence, and you don't leave his side all night, as he plays soft jazz on his phone and you both sit on the bed in his dorm room in silence. his roommate also surprisingly doesn't question it, the two of you sharing earphones and sitting on the bed without saying anything, all night.

the next morning, you finally come to terms with your grief, having overcome the shock, and tell vernon everything. thankfully, he doesn't say, i knew it. he only says, "he never deserved you anyway. such a fool."

when you go to the cafeteria for lunch, as both your and vernon's classes start after lunch that day, vernon's hand is around your shoulders. every person in the cafeteria turns to look at the two of you, even youngjae. he steps up to you to talk to you, but you don't even look at him and walk straight past him. the two of you finally reach a table where your friends are sitting, who you'd texted earlier about the situation. they all sympathise with you, consoling you and genuinely making you feel better. but the best medicine is the weight of vernon's warm hand on your back throughout lunch time.

soon the entire college gets to know about the situation. it's comforting to know that no one's standing up in defense of youngjae and everyone's isolating him for his shameless actions. when vernon walks you to your classroom after lunch, youngjae confronts you again, forcefully making you stop in your way. when he sees that his pleas and apologies aren't melting you in any way, his eyes flare up with rage, and he looks to vernon instead.

"and what the hell are you doing? why are you walking around with her like that?"

"because she's my girlfriend, that's why."

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who takes everyone by shock by his declaration

of course, this new addition to the ongoing situation spreads like wildfire through all students also. and it has the same effect it has on them as it does on you. vernon almost laughs at the way your cheeks flare up and your lips purse into a pout. it's hauntingly similar to the incident eleven years ago, except vernon knows he's not saying it without understanding this time.

"what was that for?" you ask him later. "i had to do it. you know he would beg you to come back if i'd moved away." "well, i would be strong and resist him." vernon's glare makes your words falter. "are you sure?" "vern-" "okay just play along with it for a few days. will help you forget him faster."

you spend that night thinking about the events of the day, and you finally realise that the burning sensation in your chest is not sadness. that seems to have run out totally after your crying session with vernon last night. then what is this feeling?

you don't get time to yourself the next few days- when everyone's bombarding you with where when and how you and vernon got together. "it- it just happened," is what you say. and vernon doesn't clarify it either- so it just goes along.

and everyone actually accepts it immediately. no one gives it a second thought, no one needs a longer explanation. "oh we kinda saw it coming," one of your friends say. well, you certainly did NOT see it coming.

apparently, him playing along with it means he has his hands constantly on you, either looped through your arm, or a touch at the small of your back, or his fingers weaving through your hair. it also means him spending every moment outside class with you. soon, he becomes a permanent feature in your friend group, and your and his friends merge to become a big group sitting together at lunch, and creating an endless cacophony.

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who tells you that you can end this play-acting after a few weeks and the initial gossip has died down

but every weekend, his heart thumps in his chest as he anticipates when you'll tell him that you want to end the ruse now finally and you're sick of him. he knows he's putting on a very bold face in front of you, but inside? god, he's all nervous putty. he knows he's taking big risks- risks which are more likely to not pay off than actually succeed. but he can't not take the chance when it's right in front of him.

for these fifteen days, vernon lives his dream into reality. before this, he had no idea it would make him so happy to be your boyfriend. even if it's a fake relationship. is this what he's been yearning for all these months when he's seen you going around with another man? is this why he detests youngjae even more than he deserves for his faults?

he doesn't want to think too much about why he's so enthusiastic about doing this. he doesn't want to understand why his heart is fluttering all the time and he's losing focus on everything- even things he's usually very concentrated in, like music or films. he doesn't want to think of why his heart is thumping in his chest whenever the weekend comes around.

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who invites you over for movie night to his dorm on sunday

"you'll break up with him now." you tell yourself, looking into the mirror, even as your body moves with a mind of its own. you're wearing a silk dress that's completely not appropriate for a friendly movie night. you're even tying up your hair in a ponytail because vernon once said that hairstyle looks good on you.

"you will draw it to an end for your own good." that's what you tell yourself, but what is your own good? kinda blurry at the moment, because a big part of you doesn't want to let go of vernon. you know that ending things today will have an impact on your closeness- but you can't figure out why it is that you're so worried about letting go of vernon. is it because you don't want to lose a friend, or is it because you've found your ideal man in him?

because one thing you can't lie to even yourself is how perfect vernon would be, hypothetically, as a boyfriend, especially to you. he knows everything about you- your coffee order so that he always knows what to bring from the cafeteria, your menstrual cycle so that he can remind you to buy pads when your week's due, your workout routine so that he knows exactly where to massage that night while the two of you chill.

he's everything youngjae could never dream of being. you're in fact glad youngjae did cheat on you. you've been so blind for stooping down so low when you have had a perfect man around you for all your life. and yet, you don't know if these feelings are just the butterflies from his attention through this make-believe relationship, or whether you've really lost your heart to him. and in fear that it's the second, in which case you're going to regret the steps you plan to take tonight, you make haste to vernon's dorm room to tell him to break up.

"you will tell him to end this right now." you tell yourself when you knock on his door. but when he opens the door wearing his old, ratted t-shirt that you've seen him wear since high school, his hair messy over his forehead, and his pink lips plump, you forget all about breaking up and instead just go in with him, taking his hand as he helps you sit down on his dorm bed and sets up the movie on his laptop. when he gets under the blanket, his body unimaginably close to yours, the exposed skin of your legs graze against his hands and you can see the way he gulps.

"you have to tell him now, y/n!" your brain screams to you, so you blurt out. "vernon, i have something to tell you." vernon moves his hand away from you and sits up. "me too. but you go first." he doesn't break eye contact, and you can see the way he's biting his lip and fidgeting with his hands. symptoms of nervousness, you recall from your psych class. why is he nervous? "no, you go first, nonie."

he raises his eyebrows for confirmation and you nod. then he gulps before answering, "i like you, y/n." "what?" "i know i- fuck, i swear i'm not a creep. i swear i didn't start this fake ruse with you because i like you. hell, i didn't even know then that i liked you." "then, when?" " i realised it last night. but i think it wasn't even like a epiphany per se. just a realisation.... and a way to label some feelings that have been occupying my heart recently."

dear god, help me. you cry out silently for help, because fuck, he looks so earnest right now. so soft, so genuine, his words stunted with how fast he's speaking and his eyes a little dazzled in that on-brand look only vernon can pull off as cute. "nonie, are you serious?" he nods his head fervently. "i am. and i know this may be overwhelming, so you don't have to respond to me right now. but if you do want to reject me, you can tell me right away, i won't be-"

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who didn't see this coming in any of his mind's versions of how his confession would go

but it's certainly the best version when he feels your lips press against his. you pull away almost instantly, and he asks, "y/n?" you don't reply immediately, your eyes cast downwards to your hands. "y/n-ah? did you mean that?" after a long pause, he finally hears you squeak back, "yes, nonie. i- i wanted to try it and see what it felt like."

oh. so it was an experiment. well, that's manageable- although vernon doesn't think he'll ever forget the way your lips feel. "y/n-ah if you want to leave, you can. you don't have to-" but you don't let him continue. you kiss him again, pressing your wet, warm, soft lips against his own, and his hands find their way towards you. one of his hands settle on your cheek, and the other on your waist, and he pulls you nearly on top of him as he kisses you back hungrily.

they're all chaste kisses, until you open your mouth slightly and he takes the opportunity to let his tongue roam inside your mouth. but he underestimates you, you quickly suck on his tongue, making him moan out as he pulls back, breathless. "y/n, you've gotta tell me what this means. i can't keep kissing you without any clue of your feelings."

"do you need me to say it aloud, nonie?" "yes? please!" you pout slightly, as if offended by his demand. but then you whisper, "i like you too, nonie. i just wanted to see if my suspicions are real or just a figment of my imagination because you're so perfect." "perfect? har-" "no, you are. and that's not a recent discovery of mine. i've known it forever. you are too perfect to be real, vernon."

and that does it for vernon. the floodgates of his heart burst open, and all the feelings he'd been suppressing for so long flood into his system. it makes him warm and tingly all over, and he leans it to cup your cheeks. "you're the one who's perfect for me y/n-ah. i wasn't wrong all those years ago, you know. you are the woman i've always wanted to marry." you giggle shyly and hide your face in his chest, and vernon knows he's found his soulmate in you.

[joelscruff]

for what it's worth (joel miller x reader) 18+

part 3 of the soft!dom joel collection has arrived! this one tackles some backstory; it's time to see how they met and how exactly their little "arrangement" came to be. i hope you guys like it, your feedback means the world to me. i also have a kofi if you'd like to give me a tip (but of course this is completely optional). previous parts: you know i don't mean it & don't think we could help it summary: your relationship with joel has always been complicated, but it's about to change drastically, for better or for worse. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: fem!reader, smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), mutual masturbation, praise kink, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), mentions of porn (specifically magazines) word count: 10k (it's a doozy) | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major but i figured i should warn for it anyway.

To say that your first day in Jackson is alienating would be an understatement.

You feel like everyone is staring at you (they are) and no one will let you out of their sight (they won't). You understand immediately that there's a lack of trust which will need to be formed as soon as possible, otherwise you'll never be able to create a home here.

"They're wary of you," Maria explains in your brand new living room - you still can't believe you just went from having barely any possessions to having your own house - and gives you a weak smile, "It'll pass, they just need to make sure you don't have any ulterior motives."

You get it, but it still hurts. Especially that night when you join your new community for dinner and find yourself sitting alone in the corner of the room, poking at your food and trying not to let your emotions betray you. You're determined not to show weakness, even though you've never felt more isolated. You can feel their eyes on you constantly, like they're waiting for you to pull out a rifle and start picking them off like a shooting gallery.

There's only one person who seems to be consistently minding his own business, a middle aged man who sits in the opposite corner of the room. He's hulking and broad, kind of intimidating, but there's a softness to his jaw and the grey scruff covering it that makes you see something else, something kind. He takes large bites and seems lost in his own thoughts, eyes fixed on the wall to his left but unfocused, like he's looking through it. He's by himself too, mirroring you, but you can tell by the way people move around him that he's been here for a long time. He must just enjoy his solitude.

"That's Joel," Maria tells you, sitting next to you and following your gaze, "He's my husband's brother, came down here a few years ago."

"He doesn't stare at me like everyone else does," you say, still looking over at him, "Does he just not care or...?"

To your surprise, she laughs, and everyone who's giving you dirty looks suddenly seems to soften. You're grateful for Maria then for bothering to talk to you, to try and trust you.

"Don't ask me to explain the things Joel does, I wouldn't be able to tell you," you notice that she has a full plate of food with her and that she's decided to sit next to you for dinner, an attempt to alleviate the mistrust for you in the room. You can't help but smile, thankful.

"He's a closed book," she continues, "Even Tommy finds him hard to read and he's his own brother."

She changes the subject then, wanting to know more about you and what you've been through, a not so subtle way of trying to get some information for the council. You humor her; you have nothing to lose.

Your eyes still stray to the man named Joel every so often as you speak, but you're not sure why. After about ten minutes he gets up to leave, and you watch him place his empty bowl in the dishwashing area and give the woman working there a small smile. She smiles back, says something to him. He laughs, and you can almost hear it over the bustle of the dining area. You watch as he says something else to her in parting, gives her one more smile, and turns and walks out the door. He doesn't look at you, not even once.

-

Over the next few weeks, things get better. Less people are looking at you and more people are actually trying to talk to you, get to know you. You have some nice conversations and answer questions about yourself - mostly appropriate, save for the one teenager who kept asking how you got the different scars along your bicep, the long one on your neck, the one on your cheek, stories you really didn't want to recount. After hounding you for a few minutes, her friend had pulled her away with an apology, "She likes scars," she'd said sheepishly, tugging the girl's arm, "Come on, Ellie, leave her alone."

You meet everybody, shake hands and even hug a few people. You start getting invited to things, asked to suggest films for movie night, help set up some games for the kids, Tommy even asks you one evening to help him herd a few sheep that had gotten loose. They trust you, and it feels good.

You still see that man, Joel, every night in the dining hall. But that's the only place you see him. You're not sure where he goes during the day or after dinner; he must just be a bit of a recluse, which you can't blame him for. The people here are nice but a lot are overbearing and a bit too friendly sometimes, plus it's hard to find time for yourself when everyone has tasks to complete and always likes to help each other out. You begin to wonder if he'll ever notice you, which leads you to wonder why it even matters to you that he does.

-

Your patrols start around the three month mark. Tommy takes you out with a small group beyond the borders of the community and shows you the ropes, points out where most of the patrol spots are with a pair of binoculars and goes over the routine. Your first assignment is simple: manning the watchtower with Maria. You spend most of the patrol getting to know her, hearing about her past and telling her more about yours. You like her a lot, she's easy to talk to and has a strong spirit akin to your own. The conversation gets pretty personal around the seventh hour, and you end up telling her how exactly you got the scar along your cheekbone. She listens deeply, thoughtfully, nodding along as you detail the more difficult things you've had to deal with in the past, the things that have made you stronger.

"You're tough," she says near the end of your shift, nudging your shoulder, "You don't really belong on watchtower, do you?"

You shrug, "I mean, if there's somewhere else I'd be more useful..."

"How'd you like to head out to the ski lodge with Joel next week?"

Your ears prick up at the name and you nod quickly, unsure exactly why, "Yeah, that'd be great!"

"He knows the area well," she adds, then grimaces, "I have to warn you though, he might not talk very much. He keeps to himself, I'm sure you've noticed."

You wonder why she's so quick to put you on patrol with someone who might not even speak to you, but it starts to make sense as you're walking back from the watchtower in the early hours of the morning. Tommy exits the dining hall and walks over to the both of you with a smile, pressing a tender kiss to Maria's cheek.

"How's my girl?" he asks flirtatiously, and she bats him away playfully.

"Was just telling the new recruit that she's gonna go on patrol with Joel next week," she replies, and Tommy stops in his tracks, raising an eyebrow.

"Her? With Joel?" he appraises you and bites his lip, "I don't know, honey, wouldn't she be better off with someone who'll actually talk to her? I thought she was on watchtower with you."

"Tommy, I never see you anymore," she gives him an exasperated look, "The weekends used to be for us and ever since the Kingstons left-"

"I know, I know," he looks at you again, twisting his mouth in thought, "I've been, uh, a lot busier than usual lately. We had this family here for a while, big family, they helped out with the patrols. But they decided to go south a few months back, so-"

"So Tommy's been filling in for every shift he can," Maria finishes for him with a sigh, "And I never see the damn idiot anymore."

You smile, "I'm totally fine with taking over for you, really."

Tommy raises an eyebrow, "Seriously? You sure?" Maria slaps his arm lightly and he gives her a look, but then shrugs, "I mean, okay, if you wanna give it a try. It won't be all the time or anything, maybe just every other weekend, but it would actually be a big help."

"It really would," Maria adds, "You have no idea."

"But... you gotta understand, my big brother, he's.... he's complicated," Tommy's expression is serious now as he looks at you, "He's not very talkative these days, not since..." he shakes his head and you don't push it any further, though you do wonder what's changed.

"So you'll do it?" Maria asks, eyes bright.

"Even if he doesn't talk to you?" Tommy adds with a grimace.

You nod, somehow believing it won't actually be that bad.

-

It is that bad.

The first time you're officially introduced to Joel he doesn't even bother to shake your hand, just nodding vaguely to you as you stand there like an idiot with your palm outstretched. Tommy makes a face at him and then looks back to you with a reassuring smile.

"There's not usually much trouble up at the ski lodge," he says kindly, ignoring Joel's ambivalence, "The trek back and forth is arguably the worst part. The lifts were already damaged beyond repair when we got here so it's a bit of a hike, 'bout an hour to get up there and the same back."

You begin to wonder if maybe this really isn't the best idea, eyeing Joel silently as Tommy explains what you should expect. You've seen this man smile, know he's capable of making some kind of small talk, but it's clear that you're not an ideal candidate as he stands there stiffly and lets Tommy do the talking. Tommy had told you earlier that if the patrol didn't go well he wouldn't make you do it again, and you're already thinking this might be your first and last shift with Joel.

Tommy walks with both of you to about the halfway point, still going over the routine as Joel trudges silently ahead of you. He hasn't said a word, not one word. It's honestly starting to piss you off.

"Well, I gotta head back," Tommy says, giving you another smile of reassurance, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, see how it went, see if we might make this more permanent." He seems doubtful but you can't blame him.

A few moments later it's just you and Joel, hiking in complete silence save for the sounds of nature. The cogs in your head frantically turn, trying to land on something you can say to make things less awkward.

"So, when's the last time you saw infected up here?" you settle on, hoping it'll be enough to start some kind of conversation.

"'Bout a month ago," he replies immediately, voice gruff but quiet, "Weren't too many."

He's got an accent like his brother but it's fainter, less obnoxious, like he's spent more time with non-southern people in the later years of his life. Tommy had said they'd grown up in Texas and lived there 'til he was in his late 20s and Joel his mid 30s, then somewhere along the way they'd separated. You don't know much else about him other than that.

"It's the people you mainly worry about though, right?" you ask, quoting something Tommy had said a few weeks back, "Tommy said you've had more run-ins with raiders than infected."

"Tommy's tellin' you too much," he replies with a grunt, "Don't know what he's even thinking sendin' some kid up here."

You feel anger rise in your chest immediately, "I'm not a kid, asshole."

He stops then, turns around and appraises you with his eyebrows furrowed. It's the first time he's actually gotten a good look at you, his gaze catching on your face for a lasting moment before his eyes fall to your gun. You feel slightly vulnerable, intimidated by his heavy stare.

"How old are you?" he asks, genuinely curious.

"Twenty seven."

His brow furrows even more, "Coulda sworn he said you were seventeen."

"Well, I'm not," you reply awkwardly.

"No, you're not," he acknowledges, "I'm sorry," He seems to mean it, giving you the smallest of apologetic nods and then turning around again to keep walking.

"You thought Tommy sent a seventeen year old up here with you? I thought you had to be eighteen to patrol outside the border."

"You do, I just wouldn't put it past Tommy to send a kid up here with me," he grumbles, "Wouldn't be the first time."

"...Why?"

"None of your business."

"Okay, but now I'm just thinking you're some kind of pervert," you say it in a joking manner but he doesn't laugh. Instead, he stops again and spins around, looking at you with what you can only explain as pure rage. You flinch backward, eyes widening.

"Do I look like a fucking pervert to you?" he asks, voice hard and angry.

"I was joking," you say immediately, shaking your head frantically, "It didn't land."

"No, it fucking didn't," he starts walking again at a faster pace, leaving you standing there completely floored.

Yeah, it's bad.

-

"Ellie's not speaking to him," Tommy explains to you the next morning in the dining hall, hands gripping his coffee mug. You've just told him about your patrol with Joel and the horrible impression you've already managed to make. "I really shouldn't be telling you this but with an outburst like that...I need you to understand why he reacted the way he did."

You look at him, bewildered, "Ellie? That teenager who plays guitar down by the stream?" And the one who'd relentlessly bothered you with questions about your scars, but you keep that part to yourself.

"Yeah, she's...well for all intents and purposes, she's Joel's kid. And she stopped talking to him a while ago, maybe six or seven months back now," he takes a sip of coffee, "Don't ask me why 'cause I have no idea. I've asked both of them and neither'll give me any kind of explanation. All I know is they ain't speakin' and he's heartbroken over it."

"Must've been a bad argument," you say, scrunching your nose in thought, "I mean...seven months? That's a long time to not speak to someone, especially your dad."

"Eh, you haven't met Ellie. She's one of the most stubborn people I've ever met. They both are," he shakes his head, "Anyway, you calling him a perv probably pissed him off 'cause Ellie's real special to him, a surrogate daughter. He wouldn't like someone misunderstanding that, seein' somethin' dirty or wrong there."

"I wasn't-"

He puts a hand up, nodding, "I know you weren't, I get it, no worries. It's partly my fault anyway 'cause he's right, I have tried to send a teen or two up with him, thought it'd do him good to mentor somebody again. But he doesn't want it, I know that now. He doesn't want it if it's not Ellie."

"Well, he doesn't seem to like me anyway, no matter how old I am," you sigh, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms, "I mean, he didn't talk to me once after that, not for the whole shift. It was bad. I don't know if it's gonna work, Tommy. I'm sorry."

He nods and gives you a small smile, thumbing the handle of his mug, "It's okay, I didn't think it'd work out anyways." He tries to hide the disappointment in his expression but fails miserably, and you leave the dining hall feeling bad about your failure.

-

A few days later you're back in the dining hall finishing up dinner, chatting with a few of the community members who you've warmed up most to. There's not many, but you are starting to find yourself feeling more and more comfortable around people as the days go on, more like yourself. You're caught up in a story about an infected you'd encountered in a gas station when their gazes suddenly divert from you and instead fix above your head. Confused, you slow your words and turn around.

"Oh, hi," you say, voice a bit breathless when you see Joel standing there, hands in his pockets, "Did you need something?"

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you," he says it softly, kindly, completely the opposite of how he'd talked to you before, "When you're finished, of course."

"Oh, yeah, sure," your words are broken and awkward, "Uh, I'll meet you...?"

"I'll be outside the main doors," he says quickly, "Take your time."

"Okay, I'll be out in a few."

He nods to you and then to your friends, then turns on his heel and walks out through the big double doors at the end of the dining area. You watch him go, bewildered.

"I thought he hated you," one of your friends says, voicing exactly what you're currently thinking.

"Yeah," you reply, furrowing your brow, "So did I."

You finish your story much quicker than intended and shove away from the table, waving goodbye to your friends and bringing your empty dish to the cleaning station. You push past the double doors and scan the outside area for Joel, eyeing the picnic tables where a few people are enjoying their meals in the fresh air.

"Hey," you hear behind you, and you turn to see him leaning against the left side of the building, arms crossed, "Over here."

You walk over, trying to plan out exactly what you're going to say so you don't end up making some stupid joke again that'll push him further away from you. It turns out you don't need to, because he speaks first.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry," he says it seriously, a soft and genuine look in his brown eyes, "I treated you horribly the other day, you didn't deserve that."

You raise an eyebrow, "Did Tommy put you up to this?"

He frowns, "No."

"Are you sure? 'Cause if he did...I mean, I get it. It's nice of him to look out for me like that but you really don't have to apologize. You didn't do anything, I'm the one who said the tactless joke."

"Tommy didn't say anything to me," he seems to mean it, kicking the toe of his boot against the building, "And I know you were joking, I knew it then too but I'd just..." he takes a breath, avoiding eye contact, "I was havin' a bad day. Doesn't excuse my behavior by any means but it...you just..." he finally looks at you again, expression pained, "I wasn't expectin' you to be there. Tommy only told me you were takin' over for him about ten minutes before you showed up. And then I thought you were a kid and-"

You put your hand up, silencing him, "Joel, it's okay. You don't have to explain."

"I didn't even shake your damn hand," he says gruffly, sounding genuinely ashamed.

You extend your hand to him immediately, splaying your fingers out into the cold air, "Here, shake it now." He stares at it, unsure, and you wiggle it a bit in response, "Seriously, it's okay. Let's start over, clean slate."

He slowly reaches up to take it, his much bigger hand enveloping yours completely. His grip is strong and firm and you can feel calluses along his fingers, showing you exactly who taught Ellie how to play that guitar.

"Clean slate," he repeats, and it begins.

-

He's annoying, but you kinda love it.

He's grumpy most of the time, hates when you don't obey his orders, isn't afraid to give you shit, and gets irritated with you very easily. But it goes both ways. You're stubborn and set in your ways, you hate being told what to do, you dish it just as much as you take it, and it doesn't take much to get you riled up. And somehow, as much as you'd both probably hate to admit it, you work well together.

After your little conversation with Joel outside the dining hall, you'd flagged down Tommy and told him you were willing to try again with Joel on another patrol. He'd looked at you like you were crazy but hadn't shot the idea down, telling you that if it's what you really wanted, he'd keep the schedule the same.

You've been up on the mountain with Joel three times now, and while there's certainly been challenges and a few arguments, it's starting to become a routine. He doesn't talk about himself - it's a bit of an unspoken rule that you dare not break - but in return you don't tell him much about you either. Your main conversation points are usually tied to your interests, not your pasts, and you find yourself discussing movies with him, as well as music and books. He's surprisingly well-read for someone in an apocalypse, but you suppose he could say the same thing about you.

-

The fourth trip is what sets things in motion.

"Did you catch the movie last night?" you ask nonchalantly as you hike beside him, almost to the ski lodge. It's early morning, around five, and the sun is just beginning to crest the tree line, "I don't think Maria knew about the sex scene."

He groans, reaching up to rub the space between his eyes - you've noticed that he does this a lot, a quirk you've become rather fond of.

"Yes," he replies, wincing, "I heard her givin' Tommy a piece of her mind afterwards."

"The way she was yelling for him to turn off the projector was so fucking funny," you grin at the memory, still fresh in your mind, "And listen, I get it, sex is taboo, yada yada yada, but it's not like there were any little kids there last night, it was just the teens. And it's not like it was a porno or something, it was one little sex scene."

"Oh, I know, but I think Maria's trying to keep 'em as innocent as possible for as long as she can."

"Good luck with that," you snort, "I think we all lost our innocence a long time ago, for better or for worse."

"For worse," he replies instantly, "Definitely for worse."

"You're probably right," you grimace, "Although, you know what? I've actually never seen a porno."

He raises an eyebrow at you, "Seriously? Never?"

You bristle slightly, suddenly a little self conscious, "Well, it's not like there's an adult video store in this town, is there?" You can remember them existing when you were a kid, before everything happened, but it's not like you'd had any use for them at that time.

"No, you're right," he turns away from you, lost in thought for a moment, "They do still exist though. Pornos, I mean. Just in other forms. There's a stack of magazines up at the ski lodge, actually."

Your eyes go wide, "Wait, really?"

"Yup."

"Could I maybe..." you trail off and stop speaking, realizing that you should definitely not be asking what you're thinking.

"Look at 'em?" he finishes for you, not looking behind him as he keeps walking, "And you call me a pervert."

The conversation ends there, and you don't dare try to continue it.

-

The day is spent keeping watch along the ski lodge balcony, binoculars passed back and forth as you trade shifts and chat here and there about irrelevant things. Your main objective in this patrol spot is to keep watch of the main watchtower's blind spots, keeping an aerial view of the border perimeter in case people - mainly raiders - decide to make themselves known. You'd thought early on in your admittance to Jackson that infected were their main concern, but you've come to learn that's not the case at all. When Joel had said they'd come across infected up here he'd been lying to you; they'd actually come across a group of raiders who'd tried - and failed - to murder Joel and Tommy during their watch. Not the most reassuring thing to hear now that you've taken over, but you needed to know.

"It's why we got the trip wires down near the entrance now," Joel had explained to you during your second patrol with him, "We won't get snuck up on again," he'd made a face, "Not unless someone decides to disobey my orders."

You'd given him a weak smile, remembering how you'd decided not to heed his warning about going outside the ski lodge after light's out and ended up almost getting your leg shot off by a booby trap, "My bad." He'd rolled his eyes and grumbled to himself.

Now that it's your fourth watch you've gotten the hang of things and have learned to enjoy the semi-solitude of being on the mountain with Joel. He's got a battery operated radio and a box of cassette tapes that keep you from being bored out of your mind, plus a few containers of books that he and Tommy had carried up over the course of a few patrols. Now that you really think about it, you don't remember seeing any of the aforementioned porn Joel had spoken of in any of those crates.

It's midday when you decide to glance through them again out of curiosity, handing the binoculars over to Joel and slipping past him as he traipses out onto the balcony. You head for the boxes immediately and start to dig through them, not sure exactly what you're even looking for. Someone naked, you guess.

"They're not in there," Joel calls to you after a few minutes and you stiffen, turning to look at him through the glass where he can very clearly see what you're doing. He's got a shit-eating grin on his face and you feel your skin flush red.

"I don't know what you're even talking about," you call back, walking away from the books and plopping yourself in the chair by the unlit fireplace, which has somehow become your chair via another unspoken rule, "I was looking for a tape."

"Okay, well the 'tape' you're looking for is in the back of the supply closet," he sounds like he's fighting back laughter and your skin burns even more, "Underneath a box of cleaning supplies."

"I'm ignoring you," you yell out, "Get back to work."

You swear you hear a muffled laugh through the glass.

-

When he comes in from his shift he barely looks at you, just pushes past you lightly and heads for the supply closet. You follow behind him, heart pounding a bit harder in your chest the closer you get to the stash. He opens the closet door and you watch as he yanks out the cleaning supplies, then digs a bit deeper and reappears with six or seven magazines in his arms.

"Here," he leans them toward you and you hesitantly reach forward to take them from him, "They're mostly from the 90s."

"And you know this because....?" you raise an eyebrow and you swear his cheeks go pink.

"I'm a man," he shrugs, trying to be nonchalant as he passes you again to head back to the living room.

"Perv," you call after him, but he doesn't turn around this time.

"You got ten minutes."

-

You've never seen so much nudity in your life, which is saying something considering you'd seen your fair share of it back in your QZ when life had been a bit easier. But seeing it on paper, in photographs that have somehow lasted through years of this shitty reality, it's something else entirely. You stare with wide eyes at the onslaught of naked bodies, most of which are posed in extremely graphic sexual positions, and feel your heart continue to pound in your chest.

Without much thought you'd opened the first magazine right there where Joel left you standing outside the supply closet, and you now find yourself sitting in said closet with your flashlight aimed at the pages, breathing heavily and trying to comprehend exactly how you feel about what you're looking at. A lot of it feels kind of fake, especially the looks on the faces of the models, but there's enough sexual energy there that makes you start to feel a bit wet in your underwear, a feeling you haven't experienced for quite some time; not since a few a years ago in the QZ when you'd been in your last relationship.

"I gave you ten minutes," you suddenly hear Joel say from the other room, and you quickly scramble to your feet and frantically shut the magazine, "In case you forgot, it's your turn."

"Fuck," you trip out of the closet and dash to the living room, clutching your brand new collection of media to your chest, "Sorry, I got distracted."

He stands by the balcony door and looks you over quickly, eyes scanning from the magazines to your face and back again, "Enjoy yourself?" his expression is unreadable and it makes you self conscious.

"Oh please," you reply, making a face, "Do not start."

-

"So which was your favorite?" he asks you casually once darkness has fallen and you're both safely settled in the lodge for the night.

"Which what?"

He looks at you from over his book and gives you a look, like he's questioning your sanity. You stare for a moment and then slap your hand over your eyes when you realize.

"Oh for fuck's sake," you groan, "I'm never gonna hear the end of this now, am I?"

He laughs and you look over at him again, laying there on the couch with a smug look on his face. You retaliate by grabbing the pillow behind you and tossing it at him, making him drop the book he's reading.

"Hey!" he reaches down to pick it up again, "I showed them to you, I'm allowed to ask."

"False," you say, flipping your hair, "And for your information, I only managed to look at one of them."

He chuckles to himself and returns to his book, "Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone. I was just kiddin'."

"Joel Miller? Kidding?" you make a faux-shocked face, "I fear we've entered the Twilight Zone."

"Don't even pretend you know what that is," he says it seriously but his smile betrays him, "You didn't know about the Twilight Zone 'til I told you about it last week."

"That's just what I wanted you to think."

He rolls his eyes and keeps reading, letting the silence take over again. You watch his eyes scan the page back and forth, taking in the story - whatever it is - and transporting himself to another world, away from the ski lodge. He does this every patrol once it's too dark to see outside, sets the battery powered lantern to its highest setting and reads until he falls asleep. You wish you had his concentration and focus; instead, you curl up in the red armchair and force your eyes shut until your thoughts quiet down enough to let you sleep. Which is difficult tonight especially, seeing as all you can think about are those damn magazines.

After about five more minutes of silence you take a deep breath, then quietly say, "The one with the blonde girl in the bunny ears."

You don't dare look at him, waiting for his response and focusing instead on the empty fireplace beside you. You hear the crinkling of paper as he dogears the page of his book and then the gentle thud as he places it on the floor.

"That's a good one," he says just as quietly.

Another moment of silence passes, and your skin feels like it's on fire as you whisper, "I like the page where she's like...bent over."

"I can't remember the pages, if I'm being honest," he replies, "I haven't looked at them in a while."

You nod to yourself, "Well, there's this page where the guy has her bent over a table. And he's like...pounding into her from behind." You wait for him to say something else but he doesn't so you continue, "It's one of the only pages where she actually looks like she's enjoying herself."

"Hey, uh, I really was just kiddin'," he says awkwardly, "You don't have to tell me, it's okay."

"Oh," you can't help but sound dejected and embarrassed, your fingers trembling a little bit as you push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Sorry."

"I mean, if you want to, you can," he corrects, sounding slightly embarrassed himself, "I know you probably....you probably want to talk about it."

You bite down on your lip and sigh exasperatedly, placing your hands over your face, "Kinda," you mumble against your fingers, "It's all I can think about right now."

"Did it make you uncomfortable?" he asks, voice still gentle, "A lot of people are offended by that kinda stuff, you wouldn't be the first person to find it weird."

"It's definitely weird," you take a shaky breath and drop your hands, "But no, I'm not uncomfortable. It was....I mean, it was hot," you bite your lip, "I haven't even thought about sex for a long time so it made me...uh..."

The silence is deafening and apparently neither of you wants to break it as you sit there without speaking, letting your words hang in the dead air. You suddenly feel like you want to crawl out of your skin for saying anything to begin with, for even asking about the magazines in the first place.

"Wet?" he suddenly says, voice breaking a bit, "It made you wet?"

"Very," you reply, relieved that he's not freaked out and trying to change the subject.

"Well, that's normal," he says, voice stiff.

You can't help but laugh, finally peering over at him and seeing that he's just laying there, staring at the ceiling, "I know it's normal, Joel. It's not my first time being turned on, trust me."

"Well, what am I supposed to say?" he grumbles, looking at you in exasperation, "You can't just say that and expect me to give you a casual response. It made you wet, you got turned on, congratulations."

You stare at him, watching as he reaches for his book again, "Wait," you clamor out of the chair and reach beneath it to grab the magazine you'd looked at earlier. You shuffle over to him, thumbing through the pages until you find the right one, "Here," you open to the correct page and show it to him, "This is the one I'm talking about."

His eyes assess the page, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily in his throat as he takes in what you were referring to. He nods slowly, "Okay yeah, I see what you mean. She's about to come, that's why she looks like that."

Your brow furrows, "You can tell that from a picture?"

He shrugs, eyes still on the magazine, "Well, see, he's rubbin' her clit," he points to it and your face goes hot again, "And he's fuckin' her pretty hard. So yeah, I'd say she's either already comin' or about to." his gaze shifts back to you, noticing that you're staring, and he awkwardly pushes the magazine back toward you, "What?"

"I just..." you swallow, shaking your head apologetically, "Sorry, it just sounded really dirty hearing you say that."

He suddenly looks uncomfortable, shifting on the couch and leaning away from you as he crosses his arms, "Well, you asked."

"I know, I don't mean it in a bad way," you step back and realize you're suddenly throbbing in your jeans, feeling that familiar wetness again, "It just... hearing you say it out loud like that, it makes the picture hotter, somehow."

He looks at you, gaze trailing from your eyes to your lips. You suddenly feel like you've said too much, exposed even though you're fully dressed, and you walk back over to the chair and quickly plop back down in it. You give him another look and see his lips parting like he's going to say something else. Instead he takes a breath and drops his eyes from your face, twisting around on the couch to face the opposite way, "It's late, we should sleep."

"Y-yeah," you breathe, crossing your legs, heart stuttering as your clothed core presses wetly against the denim of your jeans. "You're right."

You curl back up in the chair and try to calm your breath, slow your heart, try not to focus too much on the fact that hearing Joel of all people say the phrases he's rubbin' her clit and fuckin' her pretty hard has made you start falling to pieces. Do you even see Joel that way? Has there ever been a moment where you found yourself thinking about him like that? You want to tell yourself the answer is no, that your body is simply experiencing some pent-up sexual frustration and he has nothing to do with it, but you know you'd be lying to yourself.

He's hot. It's not some shocking revelation or something you've realized over time. There's a reason you'd felt so drawn to him that first day in the dining hall, a reason you'd watched out for him every day and hoped he'd notice you. Hell, there's a reason you're still doing patrols with him despite him being a pain in the ass. You're not an idiot, you know yourself well enough by now to know what these things mean.

You're attracted to him. You've been attracted to him this whole damn time.

You shut your eyes tight and curl up into a ball, holding your knees to your chest. He's rubbin' her clit, his voice echoes in your mind, and your cunt begins to ache.

Stop thinking about it, you shake his words away and try to focus on falling asleep. There's no way you're gonna touch yourself right now, not with him in the room, and you're not gonna excuse yourself either like some horny teenager. You can do this, you can get through it, it'll go away soon.

-

It doesn't go away.

About twenty minutes later you're still sitting there with your eyes shut, trying your hardest not to touch yourself. But it's so fucking difficult. His words are playing on a loop in your head, over and over, soft yet rough, kind yet sexy, his southern drawl making it all the more hotter:

She's about to come, that's why she looks like that.

He's rubbin' her clit.

He's fuckin' her pretty hard.

I'd say she's either already comin' or about to.

You squirm in the chair, imagining what he'd sound like whispering that in your ear with his fingers pumping in and out of you as you came undone beneath him. Rubbin' her clit, his voice breathes in your mind, fuckin' her pretty hard, she's about to come.

You're ten seconds from breaking your own rule and heading back to the supply closet to find some release when you hear an unfamiliar sound coming from a few feet away. Your eyes flutter open, thoughts stopping momentarily as you try to figure out what it is. You turn slightly in your chair to see if Joel hears it too, and you feel your breath stop completely.

He's turned off the lantern so you can't see him properly, but you can make out the shadow of him in the moonlight, see the long shape of him directly mirrored against the floorboards and his hand stroking himself up and down, quick and rough. Your lips part in disbelief, realizing the noise you're hearing is the sound of his palm slapping against the base of his cock as he jacks himself off.

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

Here you've been, desperately trying to push away any and all sense of desire so you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself, wouldn't make him uncomfortable, and here he is doing that exact thing. Angrily, almost out of spite, you sit up in the chair and stuff your hand down your jeans.

Two can play at that game, asshole.

Your finger goes straight to your clit and you begin to rub it furiously, eyes trained on the dark outline of his hand moving up and down. You can only vaguely make out the shape of him but it's enough to make you start dripping, the base of your palm getting slick as you stimulate yourself continuously. He's well endowed, that much is obvious, and you watch his silhouette as he releases his large cock for a moment to bring his hand to his mouth and lick a stripe along his palm. You have to bite down on your lip to suppress the moan that threatens to bubble from your throat at the action, watching through lidded eyes as he brings his wet hand back down and fists himself once more.

Without much thought you slip your middle finger inside yourself, eyes trained on him as you pretend it's his cock pushing past your entrance. It's pretty difficult to imagine though, considering his cock is probably five times as girthy as your one finger, but you make do. You can kind of make out the shape of the tip, wide and shiny, disappearing and reappearing over and over. You slip a second finger inside and bite back a whimper.

The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin and the sudden wet squelch of your fingers; you don't even bother to try and make it softer, you're getting off now whether he knows or not, the fullness overwhelming you as you lick your lips and furrow your brow. You haven't masturbated in a long time; you know it won't take you long to get what you need.

"Are you-" he suddenly gasps into the darkness, and your head snaps up to look at him again, heart pounding when you see that his hand has stilled on his cock and he's looking over at you with an expression of pure disbelief.

You should probably be embarrassed, apologetic, but instead you can't help but feel a rush of pride, of spite, as he realizes what you're doing.

"Like you're not," you hiss back, practically spitting as you continue to fuck yourself, "I'm not deaf."

"Thought you were sleepin'," he says back, and you can see his fingers clench around his length, like he's doing everything in his power not to stroke himself.

"And that makes it less weird?"

He groans and lets go of himself completely, sitting up slightly on the couch and shaking his head like he's trying to wake himself up from a dream he isn't having. When he looks at you again his eyes fall to where you're still getting off, not bothering to be sneaky about the way he practically bores a hole in your jeans with his gaze.

"So what are you gonna do about it?" he challenges gruffly, eyes coming back up to meet yours, the hint of a cocky smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

Oh, he's proud of himself, isn't he?

You glare at him, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going," you mean it too, fingers not even slowing down as you pant breathlessly in his direction, "And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."

It does matter, actually, it really does. If he was to get up and walk out... it would basically be a rejection, something you're not sure you'll be able to deal with. You don't break eye contact with him, staring him down as you give him your own challenge.

He swallows, gives you one last look, and then flops back down into a horizontal position as he reaches for himself again. He returns to his quick strokes, almost purposely more heavy this time as he mutters, "No talking. Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"

"Deal," you reply immediately, and add a third finger.

It doesn't take long for you to find your release, a particularly hard slap of skin from Joel on the couch pushing you over the edge. You don't try to stifle your moan this time, focusing completely on enjoying your orgasm as your hand stills in your pants and you begin to shake in the chair. Your hips buck pathetically, eyes shutting tight as you whimper and cry out in pleasure.

"Jesus Christ," you hear Joel pant a few seconds afterward, followed by a long groan as he starts to come too, "Fuck."

You manage to catch a glimpse of the way he twists his wrist, aims his cock against his button-down and stains it with his release. You wish you had a better view, that it wasn't so dark, but just hearing him come apart is enough. It's exactly what you hoped it would be.

You lay there in silence for a few moments, both of you panting breathlessly from your orgasms as the weight of what you've just done starts to creep in. You're suddenly slightly afraid of what he'll say, what he'll do. Will he get mad? Will he say he doesn't want to patrol with you anymore? You decide immediately that you don't want him to have the first word.

"What were you thinking about?" you ask, barely a whisper.

It takes a few moments for him to reply, and you start to worry that you've already ruined everything, but then he answers.

"Bunny ears," he says quietly.

"What?"

"I was thinkin' about the bunny ear girl," he's still breathless, "From the magazine. Weren't you?"

You figure you can't dig the hole any deeper.

"I was just watching you, Joel," you breathe, feeling butterflies tingle in your belly at the words, "Didn't have to think about anything else."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, then mumbles something to himself that you don't understand. You can't fully make out his expression but you swear you see him frown in the moonlight, not exactly the response you were aiming for. He suddenly turns on the couch again to face away from you, exhaling loudly, "Go to sleep."

The words strike you hard, lips parting in surprise. You obviously hadn't expected him to completely reciprocate, to jump into your arms and kiss you, but that? "Go to sleep"? What the fuck kind of a response is that? You stare at him, hoping against reason that he'll turn around again and apologize, say something different, but he doesn't.

"Yeah, sure," you mutter, curling back up into a ball in the chair and hoping sleep finds you as soon as possible so you don't have to think anymore, "Asshole."

You hope he hears you.

-

You wake the next morning to the sound of someone rummaging nearby, and you open your eyes blearily to see Joel crouched near the door, packing his bag. You stretch and yawn automatically, momentarily forgetting what had transpired between the two of you last night. His head tilts up to look at you and it all comes flooding back when you see that familiar frown on his face.

"Do you ever smile?" you say, voice rough with sleep.

He rolls his eyes and goes back to his pack, shaking his head, "Like you're so chipper."

"Well, at least I have a good reason to be annoyed," you snap, sitting up in the chair and stretching your legs, "Asshole."

"You love to call me that, don't you?"

"Just calling it like I see it," you mutter, pulling yourself up and heading past him to the door, "I'm taking a piss."

"Watch out for th-"

"The trip wires, I know," you interrupt coldly, "I'm not an idiot."

He doesn't say anything else but you feel his eyes on your back as you walk out onto the balcony and down the steps. You both have to pee in the woods when you're out here - the ski lifts aren't the only things that don't work properly anymore - so you've managed to each figure out your own designated area. You feel relieved once you're out of his eyesight and beneath the thick layer of tree branches that keep your makeshift bathroom secluded.

You really shouldn't be so pissed at him, it's not like he owes you anything. You know you're projecting your own feelings onto him and that it isn't fair, but god, him telling you to go to sleep after you'd essentially confessed your attraction to him makes your blood boil. He'd really had nothing else to say? Couldn't have come up with something a little softer, a little kinder? Let you down easy?

You grumble to yourself on the way back up the steps, questioning whether or not you should keep ignoring him or just get over it. Is it really worth an hours hike of hostility? You already know this is your last shift with him, there's no way you can come back from this in any way that will keep your dignity intact. It's over.

"You say you're not a kid but you sure do act like one," Joel says the second you re-enter the ski lodge, and you stop dead in your tracks. He's got his arms crossed, nose flaring in anger, "I'm sick and tired of the silent treatment, the cold shoulder, all that shit. What happened to people just talkin' to each other?"

You shut the door behind you and shake your head, "I'm not giving you the silent treatment Joel, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down," his voice is firm but you can hear some emotion there, something deeper. He doesn't like being ignored and you know why, but it doesn't soften your resolve.

"I'm pissed at you, yeah," you admit, shrugging, "But I think I have a pretty valid reason."

"And what is it?"

You stare, scrunching up your face in confusion, "Are you serious? Jesus, Joel, I thought you were smart."

"Oh, fuck off," he grumbles, rolling his eyes again, "I ain't a mind reader."

You shake your head again, inhaling deeply, "I'm not asking you to read my mind, Joel," you exhale and try to calm yourself, feeling the angry tears begin to sting your eyes. God, you hate how emotional you get when you're angry. You hate showing weakness like this.

"Then tell me," he groans, "Is it about last night? 'Cause I thought we made a deal that we're not gonna talk about it."

You laugh at his words, cold and hard, "Right, yeah, sorry. Deal's a deal, right? My bad," you couldn't sound more sarcastic if you tried, stuffing your roll of toilet paper back in your pack and zipping it up, "Come on, let's just head back and forget about it." Your voice cracks on the last few words and you bite down hard on your lip, feeling the tears spill over.

"Are you crying?" his voice falters, and you hear a twinge of kindness in his tone, something you'd desperately wanted to hear last night.

He crosses the room before you even have a chance to reply, striding over to you and placing his hand on your shoulder firmly, making you turn around. His face softens immediately when he sees the tears streaming down your face, the tears you're already trying to wipe away.

"Fuck," he says, brow furrowing in concern, "I'm sorry."

You snort involuntarily, shaking your head, "I'm just stupid."

"You're not stupid," it's almost a whisper, "I'm the stupid one, believe me," he brings his hand up like he's going to touch your face but seems to think better of it, bringing it back to your shoulder again, "I shouldn't have... I don't know what I was thinkin' last night, I'm sorry. You showed me that magazine and-"

You put your hand up to silence him, "I don't care about why, Joel. I don't even care that you did it, it's not like I told you to stop."

His brow furrows deeper, "Then what...?"

You close your eyes, breathing deeply before putting on your best impression of him and mumbling, "Go to sleep," like he had the night before, opening your eyes again to see if he understands.

He stares at you for a few seconds, confused, but you watch as it suddenly dawns on him, realization spreading across his features. He suddenly lets go of your shoulder and takes a few steps back, eyes falling to the floor.

"You can't... you can't think of me that way," he says it gruffly, swallowing and shaking his head.

You stand there without saying anything, waiting until he finally looks back up at you to speak. When he does, you make sure to look directly in his eyes.

"Why not?"

His hand comes up to touch the back of his neck and you swear you see patches of red begin to bloom along his collarbone, like he's embarrassed...or flattered? You take a step forward and he quickly takes another step backward.

"If it's because of the age thing... I really don't care, Joel," you say earnestly, heart beginning to beat heavily in your chest, "I think you're..." You can't believe the words are even coming out of your mouth, the tears on your face already beginning to dry as you try to process this new situation you've found yourself in, "I think you're sexy."

His brow furrows again, not in anger but in confusion. He doesn't take another step backward when you move toward him this time, staying rooted in place as you peer up at him, waiting for him to speak. He remains silent, his eyes trained directly on your face, lips set in a firm line.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

He shakes his head slowly, "I don't."

"Why?"

He doesn't reply, just keeps staring at you like he has absolutely no idea what to say. You suddenly feel the need to reassure him, comfort him. Your hand moves upward, aching to cup his face in your hand, feel that grey scruff beneath your palm.

He pulls back before you get the chance, shaking his head again, "Don't," it's barely a whisper, voice breaking as he says it, "Just...gimme a minute."

"Okay," you nod, dropping your hand, "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizin'," he breathes, still not breaking eye contact, "Just let me think, please."

You swallow, teeth tugging on your lip as he continues to stand there motionless. He's still looking at you but his thoughts are miles away; you can practically see the wheels turning in his head, calculating exactly what he's supposed to do in a situation like this. Part of you wants him to kiss you, part of you wants to kiss him, part of you wants to wait until he makes a decision. You settle firmly on the third option.

"I lied," he finally breaks the silence, jaw tense and firm, "I wasn't thinkin' about that fuckin' bunny ear model."

Your lips part; you hadn't been expecting him to say that.

"Then...what were you thinking about?" You already know the answer before he replies.

"You," his voice is strained, broken, like he's holding himself back, "I was thinkin' about you and the stupid magazines in the supply closet."

You feel your skin flush, a tingle trailing up the back of your neck as you try not to show him how pleased you are, "W-what?"

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about you in that closet, lookin' at those pictures, getting...." he trails off and swallows, then whispers, "Wet. Gettin' all wet in your panties from that girl getting fucked."

His words send an immediate throb to your core and you can feel your heart in your throat, pounding relentlessly as he continues to speak, continues to say exactly what's been on his mind as you stand in front of him, so much smaller than him, letting his words get lost in the sudden warmth of your body and the buzz of your thoughts.

"I couldn't stop thinkin' about it," he repeats, voice rough, eyes dark, "Your wet panties, your big eyes, your..." he practically chokes then, "Your pussy, all wet and aching."

"Oh my god," you whimper, crossing your legs involuntarily as you feel an immediate surge of wetness in your underwear, "Please, keep talking, please."

"Wanted to see it and touch it," he murmurs, his breath ghosting across your face as he peers down at you with desire in his eyes, "Wanted to fuck it and make you come."

Without hesitation your arms shoot up to wrap around his neck, burying your face in his warm chest and tugging at the collar of his coat, "I want you to," you practically moan, clawing at the material, "Joel, I need you to fuck me right now."

To your absolute dismay he reaches up and removes your arms from him, taking a step back so neither of you are touching. His eyes are so dark, pupils blown wide and that red blush of heat now spread all over his neck and cheekbones.

"I can't," he says, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, I can't."

You're about to protest, whine and beg if you have to, but his eyes fall to your groin. You watch with wide eyes as he goes for his belt, begins to unloop it and remove it.

"Take your pants off," he groans, and you don't need telling twice.

-

You end up masturbating together again, this time in the light of day. You find yourselves laying on the couch where he'd slept last night, the memory of what he'd done there fresh in your mind as you pump two fingers in and out of yourself steadily and watch him stroke his cock to match your pace. He watches you behind hooded eyes, his lips parted as he pants and gets himself off to your pleasure, watches you do the same thing to him.

"That's it," he murmurs, eyes scrunching in arousal as he scans your face, watches you come undone, "Rub your clit, nice and fast."

You whimper, unable to hold on for much longer as you eye his cock and see the way the fat head of it drips for you, slicking his hand and allowing him to stroke faster and faster. You want to say something to help get him off too but your words are completely lost in the sensation; you couldn't speak even if you wanted to.

He knows you're about to come, can see it in your face the way he saw it in the face of the model in the picture. He swallows heavily and fucks himself impossibly faster, harder, silently asking you to match his pace. You do it, thumbing your clit and feeling the tense coil in your belly snap as your jaw drops and you let out a long and ridiculously loud moan. Your eyes shut tight and you throw your head back, feeling your body begin to shake from the stimulation.

"There you go," he grunts, and you hear the slapping of skin stop as he rides out his own release, coming into his fist, "Fuck." Your eyes open at just the right time to see his jaw go slack, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head from the pleasure. It somehow makes you ache for more, even though you can't possibly imagine being any more overstimulated than you already are.

You both lay there, chests heaving, hearts pounding, completely undone. It goes without saying that you've both just managed to each have one of the best orgasms of your lives.

"New patrol rule," you whisper to him, legs still wide and cunt dripping with your release, "We do this. Every time. Please."

"Yes," he replies immediately, still catching his breath, "I can do that."

-

"It can't be any more than this," Joel says to you quietly as you hike down the mountain a little while later, the sunrise cresting the trees again the way it had yesterday when you'd hiked up; it's like nothing has changed, but you both know that everything has.

"Okay," you say just as softly, though part of you aches to reach for his hand, loop your pinky through his and have some degree of touch between you. But you can tell he means business, that there won't be any more discussion on the matter today.

"Just this," he whispers, glancing at you with a meaningful look, eyes soft and tender as he peers at you, knowing what he's done, what he's started.

"Just this," you agree, but you don't really believe it.

You hope, deep down, neither does he.

thank you so much for reading! there will be more in this collection coming very soon. i'd like to do some short fics of certain nights they've had, especially the first time he calls her a good girl. that was originally going to be in this part but it was just getting wayyy too long and i have so many ideas i need to flesh out more lol. i'm also going to continue where they left off in "don't think we could help it", and yes, eventually they will do the deed, i promise. among other things....

if you liked it, please let me know! and again, if you'd like to give me a tip you can do so on my kofi 💖