#like focus on the inherent power imbalance of a boss and an employee how would they deal with that? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gasolinerainbowpuddles · 6 months ago

Text

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝚅𝙸𝙸. 𝙵𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜��𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || ��𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: POV switching, inherent power imbalance due to boss/employee dynamic, fucked up family relationships and drama, abusive relationships, tooth aching fluff, everyone is incredibly horny | WORD COUNT: 9k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: Life at home is the worst it's been in a long time, and you've never felt better.

Winter drags on in the wet, tedious sort of way that it does in Texas. Luckily for you, Joel Miller fills all those dull gaps with his own personal brand of sunshine. Morning kisses when he picks you up. Stopping somewhere to sit and have a morning coffee for 10 minutes and pulling faces when he tastes your overly sweetened caramel flavored drink. Sneaking kisses at the office when no one else is around. Sending flirtier and flirtier texts throughout the day until he comes to pick you up from the office and drives you home.

It’s never been easy to shift from the nebulous bliss of being with him, but lately it’s even more challenging. It’s entirely possible the nature of your relationship advancing has created a stronger attachment and thus a stronger sense of loss when you have to part, but a large component of your misery whenever you have to say goodbye is the heavy, mercurial domestic picture that awaits your return every evening.

Kenzie continues to send texts, but you haven’t responded to any of them. You aren’t sure how to or if you even want to. Apologizing and making amends feels tempting and like the “obvious choice,” but you’ve grown sick and tired of placating and doing all the work to fix things in your relationships, especially when it always seems to be for someone who’s done wrong by you. So, you let it sit, and, before you know it, weeks of ghosting her fly by.

It’s not like you don’t have enough bullshit to deal with already. You do work full time, and when you get home it’s even more of a rotten environment than usual. Your dad has been on edge ever since Calum came to visit. He hadn’t spoken a word about it to you, although you had a feeling he was well aware that you knew exactly what had transpired. Instead of sitting with his own unpleasant feelings and thoughts in the aftermath, your dad had decided he’d rather distract himself from it with heavier drinking and lashing out at you.

Baskets of laundry flipped over because one shirt was “folded wrong.” Every plate in the house broken in half because you left the dishes in the sink from dinner one night. Holes punched into the hallway leading to your bedroom when his sports team lost a big match. Screaming at you until he was red in the face when you forgot to bring the mail in before it started raining.

It was the worst he’d been in a while, but something about Calum’s visit and Joel’s constant peripheral presence gave you the sort of resilience you’d long thought had been leached from you. There was nothing to do except ride this wave out and hope his wedding planning with Denise would start to serve as a distraction to shift focus away from you. She’d been overly eager to start outlining and scheduling right away, and you could tell it surprised your dad in a way that bordered on irritation.

But for now, you had to turn down Joel’s invitations to dinner at his house several times even though it shattered your heart into a million tiny pieces to have to tell him no. Worst of all was his unconditional, forgiving nature about it. You’d just say your dad was “strict” and “in bad moods” because of Calum’s visit. He’d tried pressing the subject once, but you shut it down immediately. It was bad enough having to deal with all this at home. When you were with Joel, you didn’t want to think about all that. Being with him was the only part of your life that wasn’t marred by your home life, and you wanted to keep it that way.

You wish you could tell him every day you’d love to stay for dinner and for bedtime and for all times. He’d mentioned how he “didn’t mean to keep buggin’ you about it” but that his house is quiet these days and he “misses the company.” He’d cringed at himself and laughed. “Christ, that sounds so fuckin’ pathetic.”

You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs how it made you feel warm and appreciated just to be wanted in his presence. To share his personal space with you like it was yours, too. How much you ached for him. How every time you had to say goodbye to him felt infinitely harder than the day before.

You know you’ll get there eventually. Spending as much time as you please with him once you strike out on your own. Away from the toxic homelife keeping you from blooming into more than just a shell of your full potential. Separated enough from the dark cloud hanging around your head to understand how to speak freely and without fear of being abandoned. But, until then, you just have to take it day by day and keep reminding yourself there are good things on the horizon.

Eight times. You’d already turned him down eight times when he asked you to come have dinner with him at his house. Just something casual. No expectations. Just to enjoy each other for a little longer than the end of the work day. He’d only kept asking because you very clearly wanted to say yes. He wasn’t sure why you didn’t. Just another puzzle in the heaping pile of puzzles that already veiled you.

Your brother’s visit had revealed a few things, maybe more than you’d realized, but Joel hadn’t been successful in broaching that topic with you even though he’d tread so carefully in his approach. Your hackles were already raised when he inquired after your brother’s injuries and if they’d healed up. When Joel tried to be sly and ask the same of your father – a roundabout way of indirectly confirming he and Calum and gotten into that bad of a physical altercation – you’d briskly and coolly replied that “everyone was back to normal” and “thanks for asking.”

So, he left it at that, at least outwardly. Inwardly he’d begun to finally admit what’d been subconsciously festering for a while now: your dad was aggressive and volatile, past the point of somebody with a bad temper or an attitude problem. You’d never shown up with any physical indications that someone was hurting you, but Joel wasn’t stupid enough to think that external harm was the only type of mistreatment that could negatively impact someone, especially a parent to their child.

He wanted to get you away from your house as often as he could just because he didn’t know for certain you were truly safe there. If Calum had been on the receiving end of that, what sort of shit was coming your way? What did your dad deem necessary and appropriate when interacting with you? It was driving Joel insane with dread, but he focused his energy on what was within his control instead of worrying himself sick over everything else.

It’s why he’d started sending you goodnight texts that quickly turned into goodnight texts with pictures and sometimes goodnight texts with pictures and a phone call. Sometimes you’d share your screen with him – something he was completely unaware was possible and thus blown away by the concept – and pull up something on a streaming service app. You’d watch a show or part of a movie together and talk and laugh the whole way through.

It was a good way to spend time together, particularly since the opportunity for even moderate physical intimacy was practically nonexistent. Now that he’d had those small facets of you, that small taste of what he was missing, he was ravenous for everything that was you. Luckily for him, you never shied away from taking the lead on that.

10:28 p.m.

Your dad is passed out drunk by now. It should be safe to call Joel without any interruptions. You just hope he’s still awake. You were horny to the point of being antsy, and, while you weren’t sure exactly what it would entail, you knew a call to Joel would help things. The video call rings only a couple of times before his cheesy grin is taking up your screen.

“Hi, handsome,” you purr into your headphones.

“Hi, beautiful,” he greets in return. “You sittin’ in the dark again? Sure wish I could see more of you.”

You tap a low light lamp on your bedside table and dimly illuminate yourself for the call. For Joel.

“Pretty.”

“I, um, I guess I just wanted to call because I wasn’t ready to say goodnight yet,” you admit.

“Me neither,” he says softly. “I’m glad you called. Love seeing your pretty face and hearin’ your voice.”

“What if there was… other stuff that was pretty to look at? And hear?” you propose in a throaty voice.

He perks up at the insinuation immediately. “Yeah? Whatcha got to show me, sweetheart?”

“I was just feeling sort of wound up, I guess, and I thought maybe you could, um, talk to me while I… you know.”

His lip twitches up, devilish and smug. “No idea what you mean. Gonna have to spell it out for me, I guess.”

You huff and roll your eyes, which just makes him chuckle. “When I came over that day and you were saying all that stuff to me, I really liked it. It, um, made me really wet. The stuff you were saying to me.”

Joel groans and tilts his head back. He gets closer to the camera like he can get a better look at you that way. “Yeah? Got you all wet talkin’ about how bad you need me to touch that soaked little pussy of yours?”

You let out a small gasp and nod vigorously. Your hand travels with a mind of its own below your clothes.

“Mmmmm, already touchin’ yourself? Take your panties off and spread out real wide for me.”

You comply and nearly tear your clothing with how forcefully you yank it down and off. You lay on your back and let gravity take your knees to the mattress on either side.

“Lemme see her.”

You hold the phone under the covers and angle it so your glistening arousal catches on the screen. For good measure you ghost a fingertip across your clit and over your entrance to spread the wetness and create more shiny contrast for Joel to gorge himself on.

“Put the other headphone down there,” he husks. “I wanna hear you touch yourself.”

You promptly pluck one of the earphones out and drop it between your legs. You give a test rub and triumph at how well the sound picks up. Joel notices as well and makes a strained throaty sound in response.

“Fuck yeah, that’s so good, sweetheart. Just like that is perfect.”

“Tell me what to do,” you breathe. You don’t want to think about anything. You don’t want to call the shots anymore. You want to hand it over to someone who will do all the decision making for you and turn you out the other side fully satisfied.

“You’re gonna take that finger and rub it right on that pretty little clit. Gonna write out on it who makes you get like this, all needy and wet. I want you to spell it out for me: j-o-e-l. Lemme see you spell it out for me, baby. Out loud so I can hear it.”

You whimper at the simplicity of it that somehow evokes so much command and control. It’s like he’s marking you as his territory without even being in the same room, and it makes the back of your neck prickle and sweat.

“J.”

His breathing is notably heavier as you begin spelling his name.

“O.”

“Nice and round. Just like that.”

“E.”

It’s hard to concentrate on keeping the phone angled so he can see everything, but you do your best.

“L.”

You let out a small sigh and relax your back into the mattress. “I put your name on me, but I know the real thing would’ve felt better,” you pout.

“Soon, okay? I promise real soon I’ll take care of you. For tonight we’re gonna make this work. You tell me what your favorite letter was to write on that pretty little clit of yours.”

“O and L felt really good.”

“Yeah? You do some O’s on it again while I get my cock out for you, okay? Got me fuckin’ hard as a rock over here listenin’ to ya.”

You do as he asks and rub small circles on your sensitive pearl. Your mouth goes a little dry watching him unzip his pants and pull his stiff length from his boxers. Your absentminded swirling grows faster when he grips it and eases vertically in smooth, slow tugs.

“You’re gonna go up and down now when you do L. Now watch me and see how fast I go, and you’re gonna go the same speed, okay?”

“Okay,” you quiver in excitement.

You’ve never done anything like this before, and it’s exhilarating. You study his pace and mimic it on yourself. It’s a heady little exercise to watch him try not to rush, and everything feels like a warm fog around you as he picks up speed.

“Doin’ so good. Just like that. Look at how good you’re doin’ for me. Sound so pretty, too.”

It could be 5 minutes or 5 hours since you started. You’re so locked into following his tempo that time sort of softens and liquifies. The lewd sound of him spitting into his hand for lube takes you right up to the edge, and you tell him so.

“Hang on just a little longer, sweetheart. We’re gonna come at the same time. You just hang on a little longer,” he rasps. Your breathy panting and wet fingering sound loud in your ear, but you can still hear the slick drag of Joel’s fist as he jerks himself faster. His voice sounds ragged and pitched when he speaks now. “Okay, baby. You just – ah fuck – you just keep goin’ until you come for me. Make some pretty – christ – pretty sounds for me to come to, sweetheart. Give me those pretty sounds so I can come for you.”

“You’re gonna make me come,” you whine.

“Keep goin’. Keep talkin’.”

“I’m thinking about if it was your hands instead of mine, and it’s gonna make me come.”

Joel doesn’t get another word in before the hot band in your lower belly snaps. You tuck your head sideways into your pillow to muffle your cries, which becomes much more difficult when you glance at your phone just in time to hear and see him moaning and shooting white ropes of spend.

You stay quiet as you both come down from the intoxicating cloud of each other. You could drift off, peaceful and unaware, right then and there. Joel cleans himself up with some tissues, and, even in a nonsexual context, watching him hold and maneuver himself sends a fresh wave of arousal through you.

“You feel good? Feel better now?”

“Yes,” you hum, all loose and mellowed. “Thank you.”

“Should be thanking you. You’re the one that made the call.”

“Next time’s your turn then,” you titter.

“Next time it’s gonna be in person, and next time instead of your fingers playin’ with that pretty little clit it’s gonna be my tongue spelling it out on you.”

One thing to always be grateful for: Joel Miller doesn’t break his promises.

Some of the downright alarming things Joel has seen and learned about your life recently are apparently of no concern to you. Noticeably more buoyant and lighthearted, you were more touchy, more talkative, more relaxed over the past few weeks, and as much as he’d like to claim it all as his impact, Joel knew a huge factor in your sudden radiant ease was getting to see your brother for the first time in months.

He seemed like a good kid if not a little guarded, but at this point that just seemed to be a familial trait. You’d divulged – or let slip – that he hadn’t texted in all the time he’d been away because your dad had cut off his phone line and left him virtually stranded, and he didn’t know your number to reach out once he got a new line. You’d tensed up immediately after sharing that tidbit, but Joel had known you long enough to understand when he needed to train his emotions and make no sudden reactions or expressions. It sounded a bit callous to respond with “sounds like a pain in the ass,” but it was a better choice than ranting about how your dad sounded like a complete piece of shit who didn’t even deserve the title of father.

You’d relaxed again when that’s all he responded with, and he added it to the growing list of reasons why he had to frequently talk himself out of confronting your dad about what the fuck his problem was and threatening him within an inch of his life if he ever, ever thought about treating you with an iota of the same energy he gave your brother.

And the way Calum had seemed so earnest when saying his goodbyes and declaring his appreciation for Joel’s protectiveness for you, his big brave kind strong sister. It felt like an unspoken moment of gratitude, something deeper and weightier than just what was being said. Between everything that had gone down in your house on New Year’s and whatever had happened New Year’s Eve with your friend, he was surprised if not relieved to see you doing so well. It felt a little selfish to so quickly embrace this burgeoning relationship with you, but he couldn’t deny it felt right more than anything.

And when your file came across his screen when he was double checking stubs for payday, it felt like a sign from the universe that he caught the tiny numbers next to your name that revealed a February birthdate. It was roughly a week and a half away, but that was enough time to plan something for you. He wasn’t sure if Calum would be coming to visit or if your friend from the store would be celebrating with you, so he decided to just go as big as he could without it feeling like too much – just to make sure you were getting the sort of fanfare you deserved without making you feel embarrassed or guilty for being prioritized.

Valentine’s Day was coming up, and he’d been panicking about whether or not he should do something for you. Of course he wanted to, but he wasn’t really sure what was fitting for whatever the two of you had. The last thing he wanted to do was make some big show of his feelings and send you running the opposite direction. Maybe one day you’d let him do that, though. He hoped, at least. He wanted nothing more than to learn every part of you so that he could praise it and show it the reverence he already felt.

He almost blows it a few days leading up to it when he asks if you have any plans for your big day. You skirt around the question, of course – something about not really being the “birthday type,” but he doesn’t believe that for a minute.

“Real believable comin’ from the girl who made me a lemonade cake for my birthday only a few months of knowing each other because she remembered that was the drink I got at her grocery store job every time,” he snorts.

You huff and hide a bittersweet smile. “It’s different when it’s somebody else.”

He nearly told you all the details of his surprise right then and there just so you could know that he saw you for you and wanted to celebrate ever being lucky enough to know you.

“Well, if you don’t have any plans, you care to indulge me with my little gift idea?”

Joel clocks the way you shoot him a dubious look, no doubt thinking back to the numerous Christmas presents he couldn’t help himself from giving you. It makes him feel a strange sense of pride knowing how much that had meant to you. Hopefully lightning could strike twice in the gifting department and this birthday could be as much of a success as Christmas had been.

“Yeah, because you famously do impersonal, thoughtless gifts,” you deadpan.

“Everybody has a different spectrum of gifting, okay?” he chortles. “So, you gonna be nice to me and let me take you somewhere?”

“I dunno. Depends on what you had in mind,” you tease.

He leaves out the finer details but tells you the date and the timeframe, and your face falls. “Oh. I can’t be out that late. My dad wouldn’t let me do that. Thanks for thinking about me, thou–”

“Just tell him you��re stayin’ at your friends like you were on New Year’s Eve. He doesn’t have to know you’re just around the corner.”

It’s a simple enough scheme, and your eyes light up. You know it makes sense, and, best of all, you know it could actually work. He’s relieved you didn’t take it as some loaded, suggestive offer because in all honesty he just wants this birthday idea to work out. If you get to stay in his house overnight again, that’s just the cherry on top.

When he drops you off that evening, the kiss is long and tender. He's more determined than ever to make you see how much you deserve to be celebrated.

You’d been reserved to your loss of doing anything fun for your birthday with your and Kenzie’s falling out. Calum had sent a little text to say happy birthday earlier since he was going to be swamped with work on the actual day. But then Joel had stepped up – a tendency over the last several months that had now formed into a full blown habit of his – and informed you of some “simple, fun” idea he had to celebrate with you. It was a relief to know he hadn’t bought you a gift like he’d done at Christmas because you still hadn’t completely gotten over the weird feelings of guilt over it.

You had never been fond of surprises and had more than your fair share of bad ones in your lifetime to turn you off the concept entirely. But for Joel, you’d let him surprise you with something. He’d earned enough of your trust to have your blessing to do that. It sounded silly when put so simply – I trust you enough to let you spoil me – but it was genuinely how you felt. You knew there was nothing he expected in return, and you were going to try your best to accept the genuine gesture without any feelings of guilt or unease that you weren’t giving something back tenfold.

Accept the affection and attention from a person who solely wants to give them because they care about you. It was a difficult concept that didn't quite resonate in your mind yet, but you were trying.

Your dad had slowly given into the wedding planning with Denise. Her parents and sister had taken an interest in it as well as in him from what you could gather, and that meant it was time to pull out all the stops. Beguile and soft soap them all until they would never suspect the wolf in sheep’s clothing, would never think in a million years this was a man who would readily and without provocation put his hands on those weaker and smaller. Sometimes you felt sick to your stomach knowing what awaited Denise and her kids, but there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. You know even if you tried to warn her, she wouldn’t believe you.

You weren’t going to dwell on any of that tonight, though. A gift of grace from the universe left you in your house alone to get ready and pack an overnight bag. It also left your thoughts in overdrive trying to figure out where and what this “simple, fun” gift was going to be. Joel had said to wear something comfortable “but not like pajamas or anything.” It was as helpful as it was vague, so you opted for a comfortable t-shirt and some wide legged lounge pants that were probably pajama bottoms but whatever.

Kenzie still had all your best pair of jeans at her house since you’d never gone back to get your stuff left behind. Her dress and tights as well as your bra and panties from that night were still somewhere floating around Joel’s house. You’d have to grab them tonight. Maybe you could mail her things back to her, and she’d return the favor.

Joel’s truck barely shifts into park before you’re bounding down the front steps and wrapping yourself around him.

“Hi, birthday girl,” he greets with a warm, tight hug.

“It’s technically not until two days from now.”

“Okay, then it’s a three day affair. Party starts tonight and doesn’t stop ‘til 12:01 the day after your birthday.”

You grin and giggle, planting a soft kiss on his chin and jaw. “What happened to ‘simple’?”

“Gotta adapt to the times, Pluck. Things change, and now we’re turnin’ this into a full blown event.”

You groan and shuffle to the passenger’s side where Joel cuts you off and opens it for you. He takes your bag and loads it up and doesn’t let you get out of the car when he drops it off at his house before heading out to the mystery location. It’s about 10 minutes of driving before you realize his energy has shifted into something uncertain and nervous.

“So, listen,” he starts and clears his throat. “Your birthday bein’ all close to Valentine’s Day — well, it sorta – it’s kinda ended up a little romantic themed, but I don’t mean for – I don’t want you to feel like it’s a — I don’t want you to feel pressured like it’s a date or anything, okay?”

You force down the pitched cackle that’s threatening to burst from your chest. That is what he’s so worried about? That it might be too romantic? That it might be so thoughtful and tender-hearted that it was unmistakably intimate?

“Well what if I wanted it to be a date? What then?”

His head practically turns off its axis with how fast it whips your direction. He’s never looked so excited and jubilant in all the time you’ve known him.

“Yeah?” he breathes.

“Yeah,” you giggle. “So, is it a date?”

“I guess it’s a date then, sweetheart.” His cheeks go round and flushed with delight as he beams.

You faintly recognize the shopping center that the truck just passed, but you can’t remember what all is out this way. You’re in the parking lot of the “fancy cinema” before you recognize where Joel is taking you.

“Alright, birthday girl. We’re gonna go inside and get some popcorn and whatever else, and then we’re gonna go grab our seats,” he informs you brightly.

“We’re gonna go see a movie? What are we gonna go see?” You’re excited to know what kind of movie Joel picked out for you.

“Well, not just one movie. It’s a special double feature with an intermission in between and everything. Figured we’d make a whole night of it since this is the Year of Movies for you.”

“Really?” you squeak.

“Yep. They’re a little older, but they’re good. I’ve seen both of them, but it’s been a long time. Pillow Talk is first and then it’s Some Like It Hot for the second one. I think it’s about an hour and a half for the first one and then a little break before the second one, which I think the site said is a little over two hours runtime.”

“This is amazing,” you gasp. “I didn’t even know we had something like this around here.”

“Yeah? You like it?”

“You weren’t even joking when you said this was going to be a whole event. This is so… I can’t even believe— I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m so excited! Thank you, baby!” you gush.

You lean across the seat and draw him into a brisk, intense kiss. You pull away and plant several pointed pecks on his cheeks and jaw and chin for good measure.

“You called me baby,” he notes in a soft, low voice. “You’ve never called me anything but my name before.”

“Oh, is that okay? I didn’t even realize I said that.”

“I liked it,” he admits sheepishly.

“Well, baby, let’s get outta this car before we miss our double feature,” you croon.

He chuckles a little and kisses your cheek before hopping out of the truck and coming around to your side to open your door for you. It’s almost dizzying how floaty you feel walking next to him. There was something about just being out and about with him like this so publicly, how freely and easily he wrapped his arm around you, and you don’t even care if you run into somebody you know. A fellow Miller Construction employee, an old coworker from the grocery store, or even your dad. It felt like it didn’t matter if someone saw you. It didn’t matter whether their reaction would be friendly or hostile or favorable or neutral or dismissive. It didn’t matter because Joel was with you, and, even if you couldn’t exactly say how, you just know down to your bones that he would face it head on and handle it for you both, no questions asked.

There’s a sort of implied promise of safeguarding with Joel that makes your brain feel quiet and sharp, like it can fully receive information and expunge all the burdensome, defunct neural pathways that were forged in all the years of stress and loss and fear you experienced prior to knowing him. Mental faculties refreshed and favoring clean new circuitry that optimized your well-being and happiness.

You sip on the bubbly, bright Coke he got for you to share as he grips a comically large bucket of popcorn in one hand and various sweets in the other. This place is like no theater you’ve ever seen before, and you start to wonder if this actually was a super expensive gift after all. When you see the dual pod reclining seats and swiveling side tables, you know without a doubt this costs way more than your average movie date night.

There are a handful of middle aged couples dotted throughout the gorgeous theater space, but it’s mostly older couples filling the seats. You’re the youngest person in the room by a longshot. When you locate your seats, Joel pauses and looks over the middle armrest separating the seats. You wordlessly lean forward and push it back, making for one large space without any barriers.

You get situated in your seats and play with all the buttons to see what they do. Joel watches on, amused and smiley, and nibbles on popcorn. You finally settle on partially reclining for both of you so you can still snack. The lights flicker and dim, and the first film starts.

“Can we cuddle?” you whisper.

He grins ear to ear and answers by way of wrapping an arm around you and pulling you snug into his side, his other hand coming to rest on top of yours in your lap. He kisses your temple and takes the pieces of popcorn you feed to him.

The movie is funny and silly even if you don’t entirely understand all the references and older technology mentioned and used. By how mellow and cuddly you both are, you’d think that was your hundredth time having an evening out like this. There was something familiar and comforting about being with Joel, and the lack of pressure or nerves about it all the entire time had you thinking Pillow Talk might just end up being your favorite movie after this because how could you not be biased now that it was associated with something so lovely?

You both get up to stretch and use the bathroom during intermission. Joel finishes first because for some reason there’s never a line in the men’s room, but he’s waiting in the hallway for you when you get out. He wraps you into a tight hug and kisses on you before walking you back to the theater. This feels like the soft launch of your relationship, and it’s hard to not get ahead of yourself with what it meant and why and how it already felt so fucking good and right.

The second movie is another lighthearted feature with solid comedic elements. You burrow and snuggle into Joel’s side this time around, hand rubbing gently across the little pouch of his belly that’s overfilled with popcorn and soda and small chocolate candies. His thumb traces your arm in gentle lines, and you can feel his whole chest vibrate when he laughs. You can’t help but look up at him a few times with a mawkish grin, which he uses as an excuse to dip his head down to kiss you.

Despite the literal hours and hours of movies you’d just sat through, you don’t feel tired in the slightest. Raw energy emanates from you, and you know Joel must feel it, too. You spend the drive back to his house thanking him roughly a million times for such a wonderful birthday and perfect gift. He basks in the influx of positive feedback and appreciation, so you make sure to lay it on as thick as he’ll tolerate.

He’s got a bounce in his step as he walks around to get your door for you. You don’t make it all the way inside his house before you’re already asking if you can stay in his bed with him tonight instead of the guest bedroom like you’d planned.

“Of course,” he huffs in disbelief. “If I ever say no to somethin’ like that, haul my ass to the doctor because somethin’ would be seriously wrong with me.”

He carries your bag upstairs for you, and your chest pounds with errant heartbeats as you pass the guest room and head for his bedroom. You creep up behind him and run your hands over his hips and towards his groin.

“I’m not really tired,” you say soft and suggestively.

“No? You need somethin’ to help get you all relaxed so you sleep?” he returns, none too intent on hiding the darkened want dripping from his words now.

“Kinda wanted to see your dick again,” you hum. “Feel it in my hand again.”

“Oh?” He turns his head sideways to gauge your unexpected admission.

You nod firmly and rub your palm over where his pants have tented and are now straining against his hardening bulge. “Can’t stop thinking about it.”

That much was true. Perhaps a burning curiosity now that you had a male partner, you’d begun imagining all the things you could learn to make him feel good, to touch him in just the right way that makes him cry out for you louder than any other partner he’s had in the past. You might’ve rubbed his name all over yourself at his instruction, but he wasn’t the only one with a possessive side.

“Maybe we could get undressed for bed, and…” you trail off and shrug.

He turns around completely to face you and crowds your body. “Just said you weren’t tired,” he points out cheekily.

“Beds aren’t just for sleeping.”

He concedes to that and runs his hands under the hem of your shirt, pausing for a moment for you to give him the go ahead, and gently pushes it up until it’s over your head and forgotten on the floor. He repeats the action on himself and focuses his attention to undoing your bralette.

“This okay?” he checks.

“Yes,” you say firmly so he knows you want it, no doubts and no hesitation.

He continues on like this - an item of clothing off you followed by the same item of clothing off him - until you’re both bare. You can’t decide what you want to touch first and more of, so your hands just end up traversing his body in frantic little passes. He’s much more methodical – and proficient – when it comes to you. Teasing his thumbs across your hardened nipples, cupping your ass in his warm palm and squeezing it, nosing at your temple, neck, and ears.

You settle onto the bed together, and his deliberate exploration of your body has your mind going blank. He pairs sensual caresses with attentive kneading, and the combination has your entire body feeling like a willow tree in the wind. Before you can’t think of anything other than what he’s doing to you, you prop yourself up and bid for his attention.

“Can I put it in my mouth?” you ask softly.

“Yeah? That what you want?” he groans. “ You wanna taste your first cock, sweetheart?”

“Mmmhhhhhmmmm, yes. Can I?”

“Okay, go ahead.” He lays back and cups your face, tenderly caressing it for a moment, and looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. “It’s all for you.”

The assertion that his patent arousal and carte blanche invitation was all yours sent an intoxicating, simmering thrill through you. It’s just the sort of endorsement you need to delve into this new sort of sexual experience and not be so in your head about it. You shimmy down, planting chaste little kisses along his chest as you work your way to his stiff length, and let yourself pause at the thicket of coarse hairs surrounding the base. You breathe in the scent of him – a concentrated, earthier smell of his usual aroma – and gently run your fingers from base to tip.

You look up at him and feel a rush of power when you see his face already warping into a pleasured frown and pinched brow. You hold his gaze and draw tiny kitten licks all the way up to his cockhead. His breath hitches when you lick at the topmost portion of the underside, so you do it again. He can’t look away as you round out your lips and slowly sink them over his tip before just as slowly drawing them back up with a little bit of suction.

You can already tell you’re not going to be able to fit much of him into your mouth. Maybe with a little practice and just getting used to the sensation, but not a viable option today. You work the rest of what you can’t fit into your mouth with your hand and switch out suckling his tip with messily tonguing at it and the slit. You soak in the small sounds of surrender he’s making and try to just let your instinct guide you to make him feel good.

“Look so pretty,” he husks. “What’re you thinkin’ about?”

You could try to save face and lie, but it didn’t feel right to do that. It was feeling less and less right to ever not be completely honest with Joel. “I know I’m supposed to inflate your ego by saying how big you are, but you’re actually — like, you really are big, Joel,” you point out a little bluntly. “How the hell do people do this and not have their jaw hurt the rest of the day?”

He laughs under his breath and brushes some stray hair away from your eyes. “S’okay, sweetheart. You just show me your best. Just wanna see those lips wrapped around it. Don’t gotta take all of it at once.” You nod, and he grins like an imp. “Not today, at least.”

He’s teasing, of course, but for some reason it makes you want to learn how to take him to the hilt. You flatten your tongue and take him down until your gag reflex threatens to go off. Your eyes are watering by the third time, but you don’t look away from Joel.

“Christ, you can’t look at me like that when I’m in your mouth,” he groans. “Gonna make me come way too fast lookin’ up at me like that.”

“Like what?” you breathe, a little teasing and a little turned on by his admission.

“Like you–christ– like you wanna tell me thank you just for lettin’ you suck it.”

“Like I really, really like it?” you tease. “Like it’s all I’ve been thinking about doing since I first saw how hard you get for me?”

His brow pulls in a pained sort of bliss, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. You take him in your hand slowly while you talk.

“Because I have. I’ve been thinking about touching it. And licking it.” You accentuate your words with a flit of your tongue around the slit. His eager responsiveness to your talking gives you the confidence to keep going.

“Thought about how big it’s gonna feel inside me but I don’t even care. I just want you to fill me up with it and stretch me out on it. I know you’ll make it feel so good for me.”

“Oh fuck, yeah. Ah, fuck, I would make that tight little pussy feel so good takin’ my cock, baby.”

You moan and mouth at the underside of his cockhead, letting the fat tip of him smear and bob across your lower face. You think he might just enjoy seeing how messy and uninhibited you get when you’re lost in the buzz of sucking him off.

“You’re so warm and hard. Feels so nice in my hand. I wanna know what it’s gonna feel like to have it inside me,” you say, sounding a little out of breath and needy. “I get wet sometimes just thinking about it, ever since I watched you on the couch that first time. I wanted to know what you tasted like after you were done and it got all over our hands.”

“Christ you gotta—” he grits. His hands are clenched into fists on either side of him, bunched up fabric caught up in his grasp. “Since when have you had a mouth like this on you? Jesus fuckin’ christ.”

“I like you watching me. I like you seeing how much I want this. You taste so good.” You spit loudly onto his cock and mouth at his balls for good measure but decide to pull away from them when the sensitivity and movement of them are a little too foreign for you to feel confident focusing on when he’s this close to climaxing. You flatten out your tongue and run it up and down his length while you work his tip in wet circles with a strong turn of your wrist.

“Thank you for letting me suck your cock, Joel,” you murmur in a syrupy, coy tone. You bat your eyes for good measure and continue getting as much slobber as you can onto him so the noises are louder and louder with each suck or tug.

“Ohhh ffucckkkkkk.” He’s writhing and panting, and you want to give him that final push to where he can’t hold back any longer.

“I want you to fuck me raw so I can feel you come inside me,” you moan. “I wanna feel your cum drip out of me, baby.”

His eyes snap to yours, and then his whole face is pulling and contorting as you lick and suckle along the underside of his cock. Hot ropes of his seed splash onto your face, but you keep your mouth open as wide as it will go so you can wiggle your tongue side to side on him. He’s making the most incredible sounds you’ve ever heard, and it resets something in your brain. You know you want to hear those same exact sounds as many times as humanly possible.

“Wow,” you breathe when he finally starts to come down. “That was incredible.”

“God dammit I didn’t mean to come that quick,” he hisses. “Snuck up on me. You’re a damn devil in angel’s clothing, holy shit. Talkin’ like that and lookin’ at me like that.”

His flushing is attributable to his release, but you also recognize a delightful little nugget: he’s slightly abashed at orgasming so quickly. When he’s walking back from the bathroom with some hand towels to clean you up, you catch him muttering to himself about get a fuckin’ grip, Joel. Considering this was your first attempt at a blowjob, you are admittedly proud of how fast he unraveled.

“Well look who’s pleased as punch,” he snorts. “Over there with that shit eating grin.”

You giggle and cover your face but don’t deny you’ve got a sense of pride at making him come so easily. He playfully pulls you to the end of the bed, and you squeal in surprise and delight. “Yeah, real proud of yourself now, but we’ll see who’s laughin’ when I get back to business down there,” he laughs.

He gently wipes your face clean of his spend and huffs a laugh when you’re lying there beaming up at him.

“You sure you never done that before?”

“Positive,” you chirp. “But I’m glad that out of anybody it was you.”

“Now you’re just tryna soothe my bruised ego,” he chuckles.

“No, I mean it. And… I mean, if there was other stuff we could do that was new for me… I wouldn’t say no to that,” you extend. You roll your hips against him and relish the stifled groan that vibrates through his chest.

“Well, coupla things gettin’ in the way of takin’ it there,” he says after a beat, like he’s trying to let you down gently.

You deflate a little at the rejection, now feeling a tinge of embarrassment yourself, until he clarifies that it’s nothing to do with not wanting it.

“First off, I just came. A lot. So, with guys it’s different. It takes a while to, uh, ‘get operable again’, if you know what I mean,” he explains.

“Oh, I– Sorry, I didn’t realize—”

He’s waving your apology off and continuing on before you can expose just how inexperienced you are with men. The last thing you want to do is come across as naive and incompatible with him. “Trust me, if it was up to me, I’d already have your legs thrown over my shoulder and be drilling down into you, sweetheart.”

Your lips part slightly at the mental image, and he grins knowingly.

“And then there’s also the fact that I don’t have any protection, but I can, you know, I can pick some up soon if you’re feeling like — if you’re sure you’re ready for that. No rush at all, though. There’s no pressure, okay?”

“I want to,” you insist.

His expression is tender and amused with an edge of sleepiness. “Okay, sweetheart. Then we will,” he promises. “I’ll pick some up soon, and we’ll take that step.”

“Okay,” you pout.

“Lemme make it up to you in the meantime,” he suggests, crawling into bed with you and running a hang up your inner thigh and making you gasp.

He takes you apart in his mouth, spelling out his name just like he promised, and it’s him you dream about that night when you’re curled up into the swell of his broad chest.

Something hard and insistent prods at your thighs and finally stirs you awake. The sun hasn’t come up all the way yet. The heavy scent of Joel fills your nostrils when you take a deep breath. Sleeping next to him in his room was ecstasy on an entirely different level, a rehabilitation for your nervous system if there ever was one. You’re very much awake now when you realize just what it is that you’re feeling pressed against you.

You stay on your side as you were when you woke, but you turn your head enough to see the gentle rise and fall of Joel’s chest. He was still knocked out with no indication that he’d be conscious any time soon. He’s not on his side, but he is angled towards you enough that his hardon continues to make direct contact. You turn in nimble, measured movements so as to not disturb him until you’re facing him completely. Your eyes are drawn to the hefty length of him, thick and resting on his thigh.

You reach a hand down and curl around it with featherlight touch. He shifts slightly but doesn’t wake. You get a firm hold and give an experimental stroke. This garners a stronger, definitive response. His forehead and eyebrows twitch and wiggle, mouth drifting open a little and making small, silent shapes. Heartened by the effect you have over him, you stroke a little faster and study his face for any changes.

He lets out a soft grunt and subconsciously ruts towards the friction. He’s got a sour little shape to his mouth now as he becomes half-conscious of his surroundings and fully hard.

“Mmmmmm, what’reyoudoin’?” He sounds groggy, voice thick with sleep and dazed arousal.

“Woke up to it,” you whisper throatily. “Looked like it needed a little attention.”

He sighs and opens his eyes, and they twinkle back at you with something challenging and playful. “You decided to give a helpin’ hand, huh?”

“Hand. Mouth. I’ll give you whatever you want,” you murmur.

“Missin’ a couple orifices for that list to be complete,” he chuckles. His eyes are resting shut, still not entirely awake for the day, but a big grin spreads on his mouth. That is, until you say to hell with it and resort to begging.

“Can you fuck me without a condom? Just once? Please? I wanna feel you so bad. Please, Joel. Please.”

His eyes are wide open now and darkened by your shameless appeal. “We really shouldn’t…..” Even he doesn’t sound convinced.

“I won’t ask again,” you promise, doing your best to not sound too let down. “Sorry. I just keep thinking about it.”

He studies your face for a moment, and the flicker of a decision dances on his own. “Maybe just once. Right? Just for your birthday. Just a little gift for your birthday, just this once, okay?” he rambles, sounding eager in the way his voice pitches up the longer he speaks. You nod, a yes yes yes whispered, and resume stroking his now leaky cock.

He’s quickly between your legs and making out with your pussy. It’s only been a handful of times, but he works you like he already knows every little spot you like and every little tell you have. You come when he adds a second finger. He wipes his glistening mouth and chin on the sheets and crawls back up your body like a cat on the prowl.

“Think you’re ready?”

“Yes, please. I can’t wait any more. Please.”

He notches himself at your entrance and holds your eye as he begins pushing inside. You’d expected more of a painful sensation, but it doesn’t go past slight discomfort and stinging as you adjust. Joel looks worse for wear as he tries to keep a level head and not go too fast.

God you feel so good and so warm and fuckin’ soft and fuckin’ chokin’ me spill from his lips as he feeds you his cock inch by inch until he’s fully seated inside you. You whimper at the stretch and fullness, clawing at him to hold you closer while your body accommodates him. He obliges and cradles you against him. It’s overwhelming in the best of ways feeling him above you, inside you, all around you.

He slips a finger between your legs to work your clit and help you fully relax around him, and you’re both caught off guard when the simple motion elicits an orgasm. You’re making insane noises, you’re sure of it, but you don’t care. The sensation of clamping down onto him is otherworldly. He himself is making little grunting noises of effort – to not move or to not come, you’re not sure.

The spasming begins to subside, but you can’t stop whimpering. It only worsens when Joel starts to shift his hips and gently fuck into you. Your head snaps back the first time the drag of his cock gets plunged all the way back inside you.

“Feels good, huh? Comin’ all over me just from a little touch. Coming just because you’ve got this fat cock in you, huh?” he goads. “You gonna choke my cock again, sweetheart? Gonna come all over this cock again once I start fucking you just how you wanted?”

You speak, but it’s mostly just babbled whines. You tilt your hips slightly and cry out when the change of position gives him an open range of motion.

“There you go, there you go,” he rambles. “Takin’ it raw, aren’t you? Didn’t want anything else for your birthday, did you? Just wanted to open up this cock and have me shove it into this tight fuckin’ pussy. Never had a cock before and now she can’t get enough.”

He bends his head and latches onto a peaked nipple, and you’re gone. Your entire body seizes up with the force of your climax, and you swear your vision goes flat for half a second. Joel fights against the drowning clutch and pull of your cunt as he hastily pulls out and finishes on your mound with a gravelly moan.

By the time you both regain enough energy to speak, the sun is fully in the morning sky. Joel convinces you to get up so you can shower together and eat breakfast. He tends to you every step of the way of your blissful morning together.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

tagging:

@thethirstwivesclub @cumberpegg @survivingandenduring @windsweptarmadillo @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu

@bizarrelove-triangle @doblasftcisco @canteenee4 @koshkaj-blog @sunandmuun

@janaispunk @halfpastgrace @toomanystoriessolittletime @pastelpinkflowerlife @bonezone44

@pastelnap @ellenmunn @sherrycherry03-blog @confusedpuffin @reneerocks3617

@r3dheadedwitch @fishingforpike @zooty-and-fruity @drunk-and-capable @umnitsa

@jupiter-soups @heartstoptrying @beelzebeth87 @copperhalfcent @gay4magnetobutfanfiction

@ficrecreblo @witchy-and-persnickity @lyuir @indiegirlunited

#fic: chrysalism #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller au #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #hurt/comfort #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fluff

116 notes · View notes